Harvest of Hearts (8 page)

“Gut. And the fields?” Mamm seemed determined to keep the focus off of Shanna. She retrieved two shoofly pies, which had been cooling on the counter.

“Had Judah and Johnny out there working the fields to get them ready for planting. Figured we’d start putting them in by next Monday.”

“My seed order came in,” Mamm said as she sliced a piece of pie, then transferred it to a plate, which she set down in front of Daed. “The girls and I will start getting that garden planted after school on Monday.”

“I can help with the gardening, Mamm.” Shanna heard the hoarseness of unshed tears in her voice, but she hoped no one else had noticed. She stood up and started collecting the dirty dishes from the table and carrying them over to the sink. Her two younger brothers dashed by her on their way out of the room, and her hands shook nervously, rattling the stack of plates. A fork slid off the top plate and clattered to the floor.

Shanna imagined the reprimands that probably hovered on the edge of Daed’s tongue. Something about breaking all their dishes, maybe. Okay, her nerves were on overdrive. This stress was probably wreaking havoc on her blood pressure, though she’d never had a problem with it before. She placed the stack of plates on the counter, then picked up the fork and placed it in the sink before returning to the table.

Lightning flashed outside, followed by a deafening crack. The smell of charred wood drifted in through the window. She looked outside just in time to see the tree in front of the house split down the middle. Joanna wailed, then turned around and wrapped her chubby arms around Shanna’s legs. Shanna picked her up and cuddled her close, taking in the fresh scent of her hair. Mamm must still use baby shampoo on her, though, at five years old, she was hardly a baby.

Daed got up and opened the front door to peer out. “Sky’s turning green. Looks like it might be bad.” He glanced over his shoulder at Shanna. “You might consider staying in the haus tonight.”

Shanna opened her mouth to refuse, but the top part of the tree fell to the ground with such impact that the house shook. Daed turned from the doorway. “We have some sawing to do tomorrow, Matthew. God has given us some firewood.”

Matthew nodded and reached for the coffee cup in front of him, cradling it in both hands, as if he was trying to warm his cold fingers. “Anyone up for a game of checkers?”

***

It wasn’t that Matthew was really eager to play checkers. It was that…well, he was glad for anything to get his mind off of the storm brewing outside. The greenish tint to the sky made his stomach roil. Tornadoes. He hated them. And he probably should have considered the frequency with which they occurred in Missouri before moving here. Maybe he would have decided not to come. Maybe he ought to have abided his brothers’ attitudes and the dearth of land in Lancaster, where such natural disasters were extremely rare.

Of course, he’d never met a girl at a singing in Pennsylvania who had attracted him enough to begin the courtship process. Well, except for Katie. He’d taken girls home from singings, but never the same girl twice. Truth be told, he hadn’t had much luck here so far, either. His friend Jacob Miller had tried to set him up with Annie Beiler, who was best friends with his sweetheart, Becky Troyer. But Annie scared him. She was bossy and had somewhat obsessive tendencies. Matthew had seen her organize the desserts in alphabetical order at church socials.

Funny, the only girl he’d met who made him think of marriage was Shanna. And he barely knew her. He knew only that she was in her rumschpringe and very deep in the Englisch world. Which made her completely off-limits, especially considering he’d joined the Amish church.

“Looks like we might have some tornado activity tonight,” Levi commented from his position at the open doorway. He frowned and shut the door. “We’ll keep an eye on the sky at this point. Feel the heaviness in the air, Matthew? That’s what tornado weather feels like. Do you ever have them in Pennsylvania?”

Matthew remembered one. It had torn their barn apart and reduced it to a pile of lumber yet left the buggy completely intact. Several of their cows had been killed. It’d been enough to put the fear of the Lord in him.

He opened his mouth to answer when a loud crash came from upstairs.

Deborah looked toward the ceiling. “What are those buwe up to?”

Upstairs in her brothers’ room, Shanna helped clean up the broken glass from the window that had been shattered by a tree branch, which now protruded through the opening. Daed and Matthew worked to saw off the branch, while Joseph went in search of a board to cover the window. Joanna clung to Mamm’s skirt, her thumb stuck in her mouth the whole time. She sucked it only when she was scared.

When they finished, Shanna helped Mamm wash the supper dishes, enjoying their quiet conversation about her work in town and her schooling—topics they hadn’t discussed until now. They kept their voices muted so that Daed wouldn’t overhear. He’d probably make some hurtful comment. If only she knew how to improve her relationship with Daed. She glanced over her shoulder at him, seated again at the table, where he half watched Matthew and Joseph play checkers. The
Budget
was held open in front of him.

When the last dish had been dried and put away, Shanna grabbed a cookie from the bear-shaped jar on the counter, then pulled out a chair at the table and sat down next to Matthew. He grinned at her, then moved a round black piece one space to the right, blocking the path of his opponent. Shanna studied the board.

Joseph picked up one of his red pieces and jumped one of Matthew’s.

Daed reached for his coffee cup, rustling the pages of the
Budget
as he did. “Says here that Leah Swartz died while visiting her cousin in Ohio. Did you know about that, Deborah?”

“Nein. Let me see.” Mamm moved to peer over Daed’s shoulder.

Matthew jumped two of Joseph’s checkers. “King me.”

Shanna grinned. “I’ll play the winner.”

“Ach, jah. And we’ll mop you up.” Joseph plopped a black piece atop Matthew’s new king and then moved another of his own checkers. “Doubt your skills improved any.”

Shanna scooted her chair a bit closer to Matthew’s. “Well, maybe not. I haven’t played since I left home. Monopoly’s my new favorite. Have you ever played that? I brought the game with me. It’s in the barn.” She focused on the board and took a bite of the cookie. “Mmm. What kind of cookies are these, Mamm?”

“Applesauce. I need to make another batch tomorrow. Want to help?”

“Jah.” She couldn’t believe how her family was welcoming her back. Like she’d never gone. Well, except for Daed. Although he hadn’t said a word about her being dressed as an Amish woman, she could feel his disapproval. Or maybe she imagined it.

“Careful. You might get domestic on us.” Matthew leaned over and bumped her shoulder with his.

“Ach, you might be surprised by how domestic I can get,” Shanna teased, then caught herself when Daed peered over the top of the newspaper at her.

“Aren’t you the same one who used to burn the koffee and get her hair stuck in the wringer washer?” Daed pointed out.

Ouch, that hurt. Her laundry skills had improved since she had started using automatic washing machines, but her cooking abilities had probably suffered from the conveniences of a microwave and an automatic coffeemaker. And, since leaving home, borrowing a broom from the community supply closet to sweep out the dorm room had been the extent of her cleaning chores. Shanna frowned and pushed her chair away from the table. “You know, maybe the storm isn’t that bad anymore. I’ll go back over to the barn, and—”

Matthew pressed a hand on top of hers, and her breath lodged in her throat. Sparks sped up her arm, causing her heart rate to escalate. Her mouth dropped open, and she snapped her head to the side to look at the man sitting next to her. He had a skittish look in his eyes, like the buggy horse got when it was spooked.

He jerked his hand back. “Um, you might want to wait a bit.” He pointed toward the window with his other hand. Rain and hail pinged off the glass.

“The electric will probably be out, anyway,” Mamm put in. “Plan on staying here tonight. There’s still an extra bed in your old room. Or, you can share with Joanna, if the storm is still bad.”

“Better you than me,” Joy said, ambling into the room with a book in her hands. “She kicks.” She sat down at the table and pulled a lantern closer.

“I do not!” Joanna pulled her thumb out of her mouth.

“Jah, you do.” Joy opened the book to a page she had marked with a torn piece of paper. “I need to do my homework.”

Shanna relaxed. She’d missed her family, even the squabbles. She squirmed a bit in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. These wooden chairs were nothing like the soft, overstuffed ones in the dorm lounge. She wished for a good fiction book, one by her favorite Amish author—funny how she wanted to read about the Amish but didn’t want to be one—and a cozy chair by the window. She’d never cared much for watching television. That was an Englisch thing she could live without.

Joseph cackled, and she glanced back at the checkerboard, finding that it had changed while her thoughts had been focused elsewhere. Now, Joseph’s remaining pieces were all kings, and Matthew had one left that hadn’t been kinged yet.

Still, the game failed to hold her attention. She got up, wandered over to the window, and stared out at the trees, their branches whipped by the wind. A second later, she opened the door and stepped out on the porch. The rain and hail had stopped, leaving pea-sized pellets melting on the deck, like a late snow. They shifted and crunched under her bare feet. She shivered.

“What are you doing?” Matthew stepped outside and shut the door behind him. At the edge of the porch, he peered up at the sky. “Looks like the worst is over.”

Shanna shrugged. “Not like it got bad, anyway.”

Matthew lifted one shoulder. “Bad’s debatable. I saw a tornado when I was little. Killed some of our cows and damaged some of our property. Do you have a storm cellar here? Just in case?”

“Not a storm cellar, exactly. It’s more of an outside-entrance basement.” She led the way around the corner, trying not to step in the mud—she’d always hated the feel of mud squishing up between her toes—and pointed to a trap door beside the house. “There. Mamm keeps her canning equipment and canned goods down there. There are some camping cots, all folded up, if we have to be down there overnight. Just have to watch for spiders. Brown recluses like it down there.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “They bite Johnny around his ankles, almost every year.”

“Ugh.” Matthew frowned at the sloped wooden door. A strong breeze blew past them, and he reached up and clamped his straw hat in place.

Shanna felt a couple of raindrops hit her cheek, and she looked up at the sky.

“We’re going to get rained on again. Best get inside before you get that dress wet,” Matthew advised.

“Jah.” Shanna grinned and twirled as she followed him back to the porch. “So, what do you think?”

His face colored, and he looked away. “Um. You look like a very nice Amish girl.”

***

Matthew thought they would go back inside, but Shanna stopped on the porch and leaned against the rail. It appeared that she wanted to stay out awhile. “Do you think you might take me for a buggy ride sometime?” she asked. “Do you go to singings or frolics?”

Matthew hoped that his facial expression didn’t reveal his shock at her boldness. Hadn’t anyone ever told her that men preferred to do the chasing? He shrugged. “Jah. I’ve been a time or two. You should go with your brother Joseph and see if anyone asks to give you a ride home. I think someone will.” If it was someone other than he, though, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel. “But then, you don’t want to be Amish. You’re returning to school and your Englisch world.”

Shanna nodded. “Jah, I am. But I think it’d be fun to enjoy the Amish community while I’m home. I sometimes miss it.”

“You do?” Why didn’t she quit school and return home, then?

“Jah. Springfield is so busy. In the part of town where I live, there’s a lot of crime. Occasionally, we receive text messages and e-mails from the school, telling us to stay locked inside our dorms because there’s a gunman on campus. That’s happened twice, so far. After dark, we have to walk in pairs, or call for security to give us a ride. Sometimes, I miss the quiet country. The safety. The comfort in knowing I can walk down the dirt road to my friend’s haus and not worry.”