Autumn Winds (15 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Christian, #Romance, #Amish & Mennonite

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Neither Miriam nor Ben nor Derek replied to that as the bishop got into his carriage. As the
clip-clop! clip-clop!
of his horse’s hooves faded in the distance, the banker cleared his throat.
“That man continues to annoy and astonish me.” Derek pulled a small form from his notebook and quickly wrote out a receipt for Ben. “We’ll keep in touch, of course. If this mill proposition goes sour, rest assured you’ll get your money back, Ben. And if that happens . . . and other investors from outside the Plain community wish to build a mill in such a perfect spot,” he added with a purposeful smile, “don’t be surprised if they want your brothers to manage it.”
Miriam grinned. “
Jah
, the Lord has worked in such mysterious ways before, ain’t so?” she asked. “
Denki
, Derek. It’s a pleasure to work with ya.”
As the loan officer drove off in his silver SUV, Ben looked after him. “And what did he mean by that? Derek seems like a trustworthy fella—interested in expandin’ Willow Ridge’s horizons, which, of course, will make his bank some money in the meantime.”
Miriam nodded. “Neither he nor I were expectin’ it when my Rebecca’s English
dat
, Bob Oliveri, bought the Sweet Seasons buildin’ by outbiddin’ Hiram. It’s just another example of how things work out for the
gut
of them that love the Lord, ain’t so?” She smiled up at Ben, pleased with how their meeting had gone, all in all. “Shall we see what the girls have cooked up for dinner? We’ve got a lot of plans to discuss tonight.”
Chapter 16
As Ben sat in the large, cozy kitchen that rang with the Lantz women’s laughter, he recalled his
mamm
’s kitchen, where his two sisters had worked every bit as efficiently as Rachel and Rhoda. He realized how much he missed them . . . felt a little sad that he’d left them behind. While Plain folk had welcomed him wherever he went, it wasn’t the same as being home.
He shifted in his chair, which he’d taken mostly to stay out of their way. The girls had set places for him and Miriam across the table from theirs, leaving their
dat
’s seat empty, and for that he was grateful. When a red sports car roared up the driveway and Tiffany Oliveri—Miriam’s Rebecca—climbed out, Ben felt warm all over. What an excited, noisy welcome this English-raised girl received! She hugged Rachel and Rhoda as though she felt honored to be included in the wedding plans—and in their lives.
“Isn’t that a sight to behold?” Miriam murmured as the triplets all chattered at once. “It makes those eighteen years, when we assumed Rebecca had drowned, a reminder of how God works in mysterious, miraculous ways even when we don’t have the strength to believe that.”
“
Especially
when we can’t believe,” Ben clarified. He took in the pale yellow walls and modest oak cabinets . . . the pedestal table that had probably belonged to Jesse’s parents. “All the more reason to keep the faith, concernin’ this mill. Though if your girls object to the idea, I’ll not even call my brothers to tell them about this place.”
As Miriam removed two beautifully roasted chickens from the oven, he noted deepening lines between her brows, like parentheses.
“That’s
not
to say I’ll leave ya to keep lookin’ for property,” he added quietly. “Truth be told, Ira and Luke have been keepin’ an eye out, too, and they might’ve found a place closer to home.”
“And if bein’ close to home is where they’ll be happy, that’s the most important thing.” Miriam flashed him a grateful smile that made his insides quiver. After the long day in the café, she’d changed to a dress in a shade of lavender that brought out a velvety, roselike freshness to her cheeks. As she turned toward her girls, her sleek profile, mature yet fit, teased at him.
He felt mighty blessed that such a woman as Miriam Lantz would go along with his business plans, as well as his dream of their life together.
“Shall we set everythin’ on the table, girls?” she asked after another outburst of their giggling. “We’ve got lots to talk about besides Rachel’s big day.”
Rhoda raised an eyebrow as she carried the buttered beets and a yam casserole to the table. “Sounds like things have been simmerin’ in places besides the café,” she remarked playfully. “And I’m
gut
with that, too, Ben. I didn’t mean to come between you and Mamma, or act like my feelin’s mattered more than—”
“Honey-bug, it was a natural thing to do,” Miriam remarked with a loving smile.
“I’m glad it didn’t turn ya against me, when I asked ya to leave the apartment,” Ben remarked. “There’s another fella out there waitin’ to find ya, Rhoda—even if he doesn’t know it yet. Sometimes it takes us men a while to figure out who’ll make us happy.”
“Well, your bishop wasn’t any too happy with me when I showed you his website.” Rebecca grabbed pot holders to carry the platter of steaming chicken Miriam had cut into pieces.
Miriam glanced at Ben with a subtle smile. “
Jah
, well, Hiram’s not been happy with me since long before your
dat
bought the café buildin’, Rebecca—and now he’s peeved at Ben, too.” She shrugged. “I’ve learned to see the situation for the challenge it is—and to believe God’s teachin’ me to stand up for what I believe instead of assumin’ Hiram’s right just because he’s the bishop.”
Rachel brought a bright yellow gelatin salad from the refrigerator, and a prettily arranged plate of fresh vegetables. “Here’s the last of the tomatoes from the garden, and some of our carrots, and celery with peanut butter—and we’ve stashed so much celery in the root cellar for the wedding! Creamed celery is one of the dishes ya just have to have for the feast, ya see. You’re comin’, ain’t so, Rebecca?”
“I wouldn’t miss it!”
“And you, too, Ben?” Rachel grinned at him, alight with a special glow that graced every bride-to-be. “Micah’s glad ya happened along to work on that wrought iron railin’ for the historical home they’re restorin’. He says ya might have another project for him and his brothers to build, too, but he won’t tell me about it!”
As they sat down, Ben hoped the girls would see his brothers’ mill as progress rather than a takeover of their family’s land. When they bowed their heads to pray, he wanted her wedding plans to be the priority for their dinnertime discussion. “So will the ceremony be here?” he asked as he took some of the yam casserole. “How many do ya think might be comin’?”
“Upwards of a couple hundred, maybe,” Rachel replied happily. “Which means we’ll be as busy as Leah’s bees reddin’ up the house for the ceremony and linin’ up folks to help with the meal.”
“The dinner’ll be served in the Brenneman’s big shop,” Rhoda continued as she helped herself to the chicken. “Those fellas have a
lot
of reddin’ up to do. But once they move their big saws and wagons and what-all, we’re hopin’ we can feed everybody in two sittin’s.”
Rebecca was listening with wide eyes. “You’ll have the wedding here in the house? How on Earth can you seat everyone?”
Miriam and her girls chuckled. “You’ll see how all the wall partitions between these downstairs rooms lower to make room for the pew benches—”
“And we’d love it if you’d help us cover the tables and set the places, a couple of days before,” Rhoda added. “It’s lots more fun when a bunch of us girls do it.”
“So, Mamma, are you making all that food? My English mom would’ve freaked at the thought of so many people cramming into her house—and at having to feed them, too!”
Miriam laughed. “I’ve helped with many a wedding. And I bake a lot of the local girls’ cakes now—but, bless her, Naomi has taken charge of the food. She and the Schrocks from the quilt shop will be cookin’ in the Sweet Seasons kitchen. We’re closin’ the café for the Wednesday before the Thursday of the wedding, and the Friday after,” she explained. “Usin’ the café’s ovens and fridges and dishwashers’ll make it easier for all the helpers.”
“And we’re gettin’ sixty-five chickens from Reuben Reihl,” Rachel added, her eyes aglow. “He’ll have them all butchered and ready to cook—”
“Better him than me,” Rebecca remarked with a grimace.
Rhoda laughed. “
Jah
, I’m a lot better at eatin’ chickens than killin’ them. We’ve got apples from the orchard set aside to make the applesauce ahead of time. And along with the celery for creamin’, Aunt Leah planted us an extra row of potatoes for mashin’.”
Rachel was nodding happily, spooning more beets onto her plate. “Mamma’s sister—our aunt Deborah—makes wonderful-
gut
breads and jellies, so she’s bringin’ those when they come in from Jamesport. Mamma’s makin’ the pies, of course,” she added as her grin widened. “But best of all, she’s makin’ us one of her tall, perty coconut cakes!”
“And it’ll be a special privilege, too.” Miriam smiled and then focused on Rebecca again. “So ya see how lots of hands will make light work of all that cookin’? And I’m so glad you’re wantin’ to join us, Rebecca, on account of how many of my Raber family and the Lantzes have heard about ya comin’ back to us. They can’t wait to see ya again after all these years! Ya weren’t even three when ya washed down the river, so they’ve got a lot of catchin’ up to do!”
They ate for a moment and passed the platter of chicken around. Ben closed his eyes over the tender, seasoned meat, once again grateful to be included in this family’s meal—and in their future plans. “Sounds like the whole town’s been preparin’ for your wedding for months now, Rachel. It’ll be the biggest day of your life, and I know you and Micah’ll be real happy. He’s a
gut
fella.”
Rachel nodded, but then looked at him and her mother. “What was I hearin’ when Hiram and the preachers were back in the kitchen the other day? Somethin’ about havin’ him confess on the next preachin’ Sunday . . . maybe bein’ put under the ban just a few days before our wedding?”
Although Ben had plenty of opinions about Hiram’s actions of late, he let Miriam answer that one while he savored a bite of sweet, buttery yams that had been layered with apple slices.
“Don’t ya worry about that, Rachel. Preacher Tom’ll make sure your big day goes on, even if the bishop from New Haven or Morning Star comes to perform the ceremony.” Miriam smiled at her daughters, all three of them seated across the table: Rebecca, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, between her Plain sisters in their cape dresses, aprons, and kapps. “He’s a
gut
friend and he thinks the world of you girls.”
Rhoda grinned. “Do ya suppose he’d make ice cream for the supper that night? Nobody’s ice cream tastes like Tom’s!”
Miriam’s laugh had a sly edge to it. “Maybe I’ve already asked him about that. If my Rachel gets her cake, my Rhoda should have her favorite treat, too.”
Rebecca was following this conversation closely as she ate, fascinated by how this big Amish celebration would take place. “So, do you have a wedding party, and flowers, and music?”
“Well, some of that. For side-sitters—those are the
gut
friends who sit up front with us during the ceremony—we’re havin’ Rhoda and Aaron Brenneman, and Katie Zook and Bram Kanagy,” Rachel explained. “But no bouquets, and no wedding rings. We sing some hymns, on account of how this is a regular church service along with the wedding. But there’s no organ or piano, ya know.”
“
Jah
, it’ll be three hours or more by the time the preachers deliver two sermons and the bishop does the wedding ceremony,” Rhoda chimed in. “And what with folks stayin’ after the main meal to visit—on account of so many comin’ from a distance—it’s an all-day party.”
“And first thing Friday mornin’, Micah and I clean it all up—with help, of course!” Rachel laughed at Rebecca’s amazed expression. “Then, on weekends for the next month or two, we visit the aunts and uncles and other kin who live out and around, to collect our wedding presents.”
“No honeymoon?” Rebecca looked from Rhoda to Rachel. “This is a big switch from my friends’ destination weddings, where everybody flies to some exotic beach or an island in the Caribbean.”
Miriam passed Ben the fruit salad. “It’s a family gatherin’, first and foremost, because to us, family means everythin’,” she remarked. Then she shook her head. “Sounds like a lot more fuss, arrangin’ for so many folks to fly off hither and yon.”
“It’s expensive, too.” Rebecca sighed. “But I’ve got no wedding in my future, so I’m glad you want me to come to your big day, Sister.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be the same without ya!” Rachel exclaimed.
“You’ve got a lot of cousins to meet!” Rhoda added.
Rachel and Rhoda embraced the girl between them . . . affection such as Ben had rarely seen displayed in his own family. He reached for Miriam’s hand under the table, gratified when she squeezed it. She, too, was visibly affected by the sight of her three daughters enjoying each other so much: her eyes softened and she quickly thumbed away a tear.
“Oh, Mamma, did we upset ya with somethin’ we said?” Rhoda asked, which made all three girls focus on Miriam, wide-eyed and concerned.
“Puh!” Miriam waved them off, chuckling. “It’s such a wonderful-
gut
thing to see you girls gettin’ on so well. But it’ll take some gettin’ used to, callin’ Rachel Mrs. Brenneman and not havin’ her under my roof anymore.”
“Which makes me wonder if I should bunk in my wagon after I get back from Lancaster so you and Rhoda can have that apartment, like you’d planned.” Ben figured it was a good time to set that matter straight; he didn’t intend to inconvenience Miriam—or to intrude upon the newlyweds, either.
Rachel and Rhoda’s eyes widened. “You’ll be leavin’ us?”
“You’re not comin’ to the wedding?”
Ben chuckled at the way the two sisters responded as one person without missing a beat. “Well, I let a cat out of the bag there, didn’t I?” He gazed at Miriam, whose slight nod gave him the go-ahead to reveal his plans for the land along the river. “First off,
jah
, I’ll be leavin’ but I hope to be back for the wedding. And I’ll have my two younger brothers, Ira and Luke, along if you ladies approve of an idea your
mamm
and I have been discussin’.”
The girls all looked at each other, their blue eyes alight with speculation.
“Ben’s been lookin’ at some of our land along the river,” Miriam began in a low voice. “Right at the spot where Rebecca got washed away, truth be told. He thinks the rapids would make a fine place to build a new gristmill for specialty grains.”
“My brothers have always wanted to start up a mill, but back home there’s no property available,” Ben continued. He looked at the two girls in matching blue dresses, so much like their mother must have been at that age. “So, if it’s all right with you that we buy a parcel of your
dat
’s land, I’ve been talkin’ to Micah about constructin’ the mill. Take your time and think about it, because I want ya to believe it’s a
gut
idea before I call my brothers. It means you’ll have new neighbors right close.”

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