Autumn Winds (22 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

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

BOOK: Autumn Winds
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“Polly,” Ben said in a stern voice, “you’ve got no reason to call here, disruptin’ Miriam’s bakin’ time—”
“Ya told me ya loved me, Ben! Ya said we’d be together forever!” Polly’s reply came over the phone. There was no mistaking what she had said, for her strident voice filled the little phone shanty.
Miriam bit her lip. When Ben reached back to grab her hand, she felt him trembling with the effort to restrain his impatience. Or . . . was Polly telling the truth? Expecting Ben to keep his side of a bargain Miriam knew nothing about?
“And we were what, nineteen then?” he reminded her. “We were makin’ our plans, like young people do, while your
dat
, the bishop, had other things in mind for ya. And they didn’t include a fella without a farm.” Ben sighed, gripping Miriam’s hand more tightly. “I’m sorry ya weren’t all that happy in your marriage, Polly, but like I told ya last week—I’ve got a new life here in Missouri. A woman I intend to marry, too.”
“But, Ben!” Polly shot back, “the only thing that kept me sane while I was with Homer was thinkin’ you and I would meet up again someday—”
“And meanwhile, my life has followed a different path.” Ben cleared his throat, shifting in the old wooden chair. “There’s no doubt in my mind that God has led me here, and that Miriam’s the woman He intended for me to make my life with . . . to have a family with. Ya have to accept that, Polly. I’m not comin’ back,” he said emphatically. “And when I saw ya for those few minutes last week, I never made ya any promises. I told ya how it was, straight-out.”
Miriam felt sorry for Ben. How awkward he must feel, dealing with a woman who was weaving a fantasy like a spider spun her web, imagining Ben Hooley’s feelings for her hadn’t changed as he’d matured. It didn’t help that Polly had begun to weep, so now the sound of her anguish filled the space around them.
“I could tell while we were talkin’ that ya might need to get some counselin’—some
gut
advice about settlin’ your husband’s affairs as well as some help for your loneliness and your . . . mental state,” Ben continued in a gentler voice. “But that’s not help I’m qualified to give, Polly. I’m sorry you’re not doin’ so well, but you’ve got a nice home and money enough to keep ya. For that ya should be grateful.”
Ben paused to breathe deeply, awaiting what she might say next. When he turned and met Miriam’s gaze, she saw sadness and regret in his soulful eyes . . . and she realized that on yet another level, this man was far more understanding and compassionate than many Amish men she knew. She smiled at him, rubbing the tops of his shoulders.
“I’m gonna hang up now, Polly,” he said as another of her wails came through the phone. “I wish ya all the best, but please don’t call me again. I’m not gonna change my mind. Do ya understand that?”
A long pause followed. Miriam hoped Polly would follow Ben’s advice and get some help for her grief and her financial affairs.
“
Jah
. I—I was just hopin’ . . . but I won’t bother ya again, Ben.” Polly sniffled loudly and then blew her nose next to the phone.
“I’ll keep ya in my prayers, Polly. Good-bye.” Ben laid the receiver back in the cradle with a sad sigh. “Wasn’t my intention to drag ya into somethin’ so heavy, Miriam,” he murmured, “but I wanted ya to see the truth of it, in case Polly keeps callin’ to tell ya things are different from what I’ve just said. I’m sorry about all this.”
Miriam wrapped her arms around Ben’s broad shoulders and rested her head against his. “Ya handled her real nicely, Ben. I admire that about ya—the way ya don’t fly off the handle or expect other folks to see everythin’ your way.”
He turned sideways in the chair so he could slip his arms around her waist and hold her closer. When he looked up at her, he smiled ruefully. “Will ya pray with me now? I’m thinkin’ Polly Petersheim needs all the help she can get—even from halfway across the country.”
Nodding, Miriam bowed her head as she kept her arms around Ben’s shoulders. It felt odd to pray in this position, hanging on to a man, yet maybe the power of their prayers would intensify if they lifted up their hearts together. The preachers told young folks wishing to marry that praying together was the most important thing they could do to ensure a stable, happy union . . . so why wouldn’t that be true for her and Ben, as well?
After a moment, Ben stirred. When Miriam opened her eyes, he was gazing up at her with so much love on his handsome face she couldn’t speak. She could only hold him close, blinking back tears.
“I love ya, Miriam,” he whispered. “I hope ya can still believe that.”
“More than ever, I do,” she replied. “And I love ya right back, Ben.”
His sigh joined hers, and then he smiled. “Well, then—better be gettin’ ourselves inside or my brothers’ll wonder what we’re up to. Not that I share every little thing with them, ya know.”
Miriam swiped at her tears, chuckling. “Are ya callin’ this a
little
thing we share between us, Ben?” she teased.
His laughter filled the phone shanty as he stood up. He kissed her soundly before grabbing the doorknob. “How is it ya always see right through to the point, and then don’t let me miss it, Miriam?”
She shrugged happily. Now that this situation with Polly was settled, she felt ever so certain that Ben Hooley was the man she’d hoped he would be. No more wondering about his past. No more letting Hiram twist things around, making her doubt what Ben had told her.
“Will ya marry me, perty girl?”
There it was, the moment every girl dreamed of—the words she’d longed to hear from the man she loved—and the thrill felt no different at forty than it had at eighteen, when Jesse had proposed to her. Indeed, this moment felt even sweeter because she was fully aware of what marriage entailed. The long-haul reality was a different thing altogether from what a young bride envisioned when she said
I do
.
Miriam hugged him hard. “
Jah
, Ben, I’ll be proud to be your wife,” she replied joyfully. “And I’ll never let ya live it down that ya popped the question in the phone shanty, either!”
He laughed, his body rocking with hers. “Didn’t I tell ya the
where
and the
when
were a secret? Goes to show ya that I’m not so
gut
at keepin’ things to myself, ain’t so?”
Miriam smiled up at him, loving the way his face shone with the same commitment she felt in her heart. “Can we take our time at this now? I can tell ya from experience that courtin’s more fun than takin’ on the responsibilities of marriage,” she remarked wistfully. “Kids Rachel and Micah’s age don’t appreciate that. So let’s enjoy gettin’ to know each other better while ya help your brothers get established.”
“And while ya adjust to Rachel bein’ married, too,” Ben agreed. “Somethin’ tells me she and her man’ll be startin’ a family soon. Ya might need to find other help for the café.”
“Matter of fact, Naomi and I already have somebody in mind.”
“
Des gut
. Because as much as I love the work ya do here,” he murmured as he hugged her again, “there’ll come a time when I want ya all to myself for a while.”
Miriam grinned, feeling as tingly as a newlywed. Was it her imagination, or had the wind died down? Even though the clock might say it was too early for the sunrise, she sensed a glow in the sky . . . a new shine in her life. “
Des gut
,” she echoed, “because I want that, too.”
Chapter 21
By midmorning, when he and his brothers were returning to Willow Ridge from the bank, Ben couldn’t suppress a continuous grin. The meeting with Derek Shotwell had gone so smoothly it was almost too good to be true—which was frosting on the cake, considering how Miriam had agreed to become his wife this morning. As Pharaoh trotted along the county highway ahead of their wagon, the
clip-clop! clip-clop!
of his huge hooves defined the happy rhythm Ben’s entire adult life on the road had followed—and now that same cadence made music his heart could dance to.
As they crossed the old one-lane river bridge, Ben tugged on the traces to halt his horse. He and his brothers gazed at the rapids, upstream a short distance. “Well, can ya picture yourselves there on the bend?” he asked them. “It’s
gut
that folks’ll be able to see the big mill wheel turnin’ from the road.”
“Real perty spot for it, too,” Luke remarked. “The trees hereabouts have some nice color to them in the fall.”
“Couldn’t have asked for a nicer fella to be doin’ business with at the bank, either,” Ira chimed in from his seat in the wagon behind them. “He said some mighty fine things about Miriam and the way she runs her bakery business—and the way she got the ball rollin’ so we could get on with our buildin’ before winter sets in.”
Ben’s heart hammered. He wanted to shout out about Miriam accepting his proposal earlier today, yet he also wanted to let this news simmer . . . wanted to enjoy their little secret for a while before they turned it loose. “You’ll find no better friend here than Miriam Lantz,” he agreed. “It’s just her way to help folks—”
“I’m thinkin’ you and Miriam are more than friends, Bennie-boy! Ya had her smilin’ a mile wide this mornin’,” Ira shot back. “C’mon now—tell us what-all ya said to Polly when she called so bloomin’ early.”
“
Jah
, I knew as soon as Polly pulled up into the lane back home that she’d be festerin’ like a splinter ya can’t pull out of your finger.” Luke, who sat on the seat beside him, looked at Ben as though he had all day to wait for a full response.
Ben clapped the reins on Pharaoh’s broad black back and they rolled on across the bridge. The wind had picked up, so the horse moved faster. “I told Polly the way it was—that I wasn’t comin’ back for her, no matter how bad she wanted that. I—I told her to get some help for her grievin’, and for settlin’ her husband’s affairs, too.”
“And?” Ira asked pointedly. “Ya can’t tell me that’s all that got discussed in that phone shanty, as long as you two were gone.”
Ben chuckled but kept a straight face. He couldn’t keep his proposal to himself forever, because everyone in Willow Ridge knew how the two of them had hit it off from the start. “Miriam and I prayed for Polly.”
“Oh, go on with ya!”
“For sure and for certain we did,” Ben insisted. He nodded toward the Sweet Seasons, about a quarter mile up ahead of them. “But Polly’s situation is between her and God now, and I’m lettin’ Him handle it. By the looks of the buggies at the café, folks are showin’ up for lunch. It’ll be a
gut
time to get better acquainted with fellas who might want to raise some grains for ya.” Ben glanced up at the gathering clouds. “Lots of men without women to cook for them will be there—or single fellas like the Brenneman brothers, who eat there because their
mamm
cooks with Miriam.”
Luke turned to raise an eyebrow at their youngest brother. “Did ya hear how Bennie just switched right off the subject of Miriam and the phone shanty?”
“
Jah
, sure did. Are we surprised?”
“Nope. He hasn’t changed much, even though he’s moved to Missouri.”
Ira chortled. “
Jah
, Missouri—the Show-Me State. And I’m ready for somebody to show me some
gut
eats for dinner. That French toast and sausage left me long ago.”
Ben pulled off the road and on down the lane toward the Lantzs’ barn. “By the looks of those dark clouds rollin’ toward us, it’s
gut
we got back. Let’s pull Miriam’s wagon inside and let Pharaoh into the corral.”
Between the three of them, it only took a few minutes to park and tend Ben’s horse. As they sauntered down the driveway, Ben noted whose horses and buggies were in the gravel lot behind Miriam’s café. “Looks like Hiram decided to get his dinner here, too, instead of havin’ the aunts cook for him,” he remarked.
“Now
there’s
another story!” Luke said with a laugh. “And ya can’t tell me it’s those little goats the bishop was interested in.”
“No doubt he’s already learned to stay out of the aunts’ way when they’re cleanin’. No man’s safe once Jerusalem and Nazareth get on a mission.” Ira sprinted ahead, opening the front door and gesturing for his brothers to precede him inside.
A lot of the usual crowd was there. Ben nodded and waved to several of them: Tom Hostetler, Gabe Glick, and Hiram had a corner table as though they were holding a preachers’ meeting. Rhoda grinned at him as she filled water glasses for Nate and Bram Kanagy, while beside that table the three Brenneman brothers were rising to head for seconds at the steam table. Some English tourists filled a long table near the cash register, where Rachel was ringing up Matthias Wagler’s bill.
Ben felt deeply, satisfyingly
happy
. It felt good in ways he’d never anticipated, to walk into this place and feel he was among friends, after knowing them for only a few weeks. Nothing sounded homier than the chatter of folks over a meal. Nothing smelled better than home-cooked food, either, and as Ben hung up his hat he glanced at the whiteboard on the wall. The soup he saw cooling in Micah’s bowl tempted him with its chunks of hamburger, potatoes, and carrots, but he was hungry for something more filling. Something new and different, to celebrate a morning like he’d never known.
“So tell me about those stuffed shells on the menu,” he said as Rhoda came to the table his brothers had chosen. “Don’t know what they are, but I bet they’re
gut
.”
“Oh,
jah
,” she confirmed as she set napkin-wrapped silverware in front of them. “Naomi cooked up bulk sausage and mixed it with a couple kinds of cheese. Tucked it into big macaroni seashells,” she explained. “Covered it with spaghetti sauce and baked it with more cheese on top.”
“Can’t argue with that!” Ira said. “Bring me a double order, and some of that lemon icebox pie.”
Luke flashed her a big grin. “I second the motion.”
“Make it three,” Ben added. “Who knew my brothers had such
gut
taste?”
“Be back in a few with your food,” Rhoda confirmed. “Ya get salad from the buffet with that, too, so help yourselves.”
On the way to the steam table, Luke stopped to shake Micah Brenneman’s hand. “So how’s married life treatin’ ya?” he teased the burly blond. “I’ll have ya know the banker gave us the thumbs-up this mornin’.”
“
Jah
, the lights are all green!” Ira crowed. “Won’t be long before the mill at Willow Ridge is off the paper and sittin’ perty on the riverbank!”
“Congratulations!” Micah said, and his brothers all nodded, adding their cheerful remarks. “We’ve got a Mennonite fella with a dozer and the know-how for settin’ the pilin’s and pourin’ your foundation. I’ll tell him you’re
gut
to go.”
“I’m thinkin’ we ought to give these Hooley brothers a big, official welcome to Willow Ridge!” Matthias Wagler called out from the cash register. He began to clap his hands, and the applause caught on like wildfire all over the dining room.
While his brothers stood there, amazed, Ben’s heart overflowed with gratitude. He flashed the
okay
sign at Matthias; he had shod the harness maker’s horses and had strengthened the axles on the big wagons his brother Adam hauled his painting and flooring tools in. Adam Wagler was a remodeler who often worked with the Brenneman boys, papering, painting, and finishing hardwood floors in the places they built, so Ben sensed Adam would have a hand in the living quarters and the mill’s sales room, as well.
Ben also glanced toward the kitchen, tickled to see that Miriam and Naomi had come to the pass-through window to applaud with their customers. Oh, but Miriam’s face had a fine glow to it! She was a woman in love, for sure and for certain. And as he turned further, Ben saw that Tom and Gabe were clapping, too, while Hiram looked on with a nod. When the ruckus died down, they all jumped at a big clap of thunder. The dining room had dimmed with the darkening of the sky and the trees outside were swaying in the wind.
“Well, looks like we’re gonna be here for a bit,” Bram Kanagy remarked. “The sheep’ll go into the barn and I’m not much on walkin’ home through the rain.”
“
Jah
,” Preacher Gabe remarked as he glanced out at the first fat raindrops. “Best to get more pie and coffee and sit tight.”
“Pie and coffee!” Luke repeated gleefully as he looked around the dining room. “Rachel and Rhoda, I wanna buy pie and coffee all around, as thanks to these new friends who’ve made us so welcome. Can ya add that to my tab?”
“
Jah
, I can do that!” Rhoda replied. “I’ll bring around a tray so everybody can choose a slice of pie—”
“And what if we put a scoop of Preacher Tom’s ice cream on the side?” Rachel suggested. “We had some left from our wedding supper, and it’s just too
gut
to be sittin’ in the freezer. We’ve got vanilla and blueberry ripple.”
Ira’s eyebrows shot up. “Do these folks know how to party, or what?”
Another round of applause broke out—
The slamming of the front door got everyone’s attention. In stepped Jerusalem Hooley, wearing a rain-soaked bonnet and shawl—and a scowl that warned Ben she hadn’t come to the café for lunch. She looked like a big black cat caught out in the rain. She held a Knepp twin with each hand, and the boys’ anxious expressions bespoke a serious situation as they searched the crowd for their
dat
.
Before Ben could walk over to ask about her mission, his aunt spotted Hiram at the corner table. With a purposeful
thunk-thunk-thunk
of her stout heels on the plank floor, Jerusalem made her way between the tables with one boy ahead of her and one behind. “Bishop Knepp,” she said in a teacherly voice, “we’ve got a few things to discuss, and one mighty big question to answer.”
Hiram blinked and stood up. “If my boys have found themselves some trouble—”
“Oh no, it’s far worse than that,” she replied stiffly.
“—we’ll head on home to—”
“I’m not goin’ out in that rainstorm again to talk to anybody about anythin’!” she declared as she planted herself in front of him. “The change in the weather got the goats riled up, and when one jumped out of the pen, the others followed. Curious creatures that they are, they scattered and explored the stables—”
“They got in with my Belgians?” Hiram’s frown matched Jerusalem’s now as he leaned down to scold his sons. “I’ve told you time and again—”
“And you’re gonna let me finish what I’m sayin’ before ya butt in, layin’ blame where it doesn’t belong!” she replied sharply. “Goats and horses make natural companions, after all. But when the boys and I went lookin’ for the kids, tryin’ to round them up before the rain broke, to his credit, your stable manager—”
“Jason?” the bishop breathed.
“—
jah
, Mr. Schwartz came runnin’ out to see what the fuss was about, and he helped us gather up the goats,” Jerusalem continued. She was building to her climax, and the two boys who held her hands were shifting with their five-year-old excitement and energy.
One look from their keeper made them stand absolutely still again. “We got the three nannies straightaway,” Jerusalem went on, “but Mr. Schwartz had inadvertently left a side door of the stable open. Lo and behold, your sons rushed in and found—”
“Billy was standin’ in a big black car, Pop!” one of the twins blurted.
“
Gut
thing we got there before he chewed the seat!” his brother added.
“
Jah
, but when we ran at him from both sides, he pooped.”
The café and kitchen got totally quiet, except for the fork that clattered onto the dishes Rachel was scraping. Ben bit back a snicker, as did several of the fellows near him. He knew better than to let on that he found this conversation humorous.
Hiram’s face had gone deathly pale. He was learning: it wasn’t wise to speak out of turn while Jerusalem Hooley was teaching a lesson.
Ben’s aunt cleared her throat. Her gaze didn’t waver. “To his credit,” she resumed in a tighter voice, “young Mr. Schwartz didn’t make up any stories by sayin’ the car belonged to him, as a Mennonite. And there’s no need for you, Bishop Knepp, to explain how you came to be the owner of a black Cadillac convertible, but I do expect to see you on your knees, come the next preachin’ Sunday.”
Hiram’s face went from milk white to raspberry red. “You have no right—you are totally out of bounds, coming here this way to—”
“
Jah
, there’s nothin’
right
about it,” Jerusalem insisted. She straightened her shoulders, still gripping the twins’ hands. “The
Ordnung
expressly prohibits ownership of a car—as you well know, sir—so I consider this one of those teachable moments inspired by God himself.”

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