Huckleberry Harvest (30 page)

Mammi and Dawdi emerged from the house. Dawdi wore a bright yellow scarf around his neck and carried a box containing half a dozen bottles of newly canned applesauce. Mammi had on a lovely lavender sweater. She looked quite spectacular.

“Davy,” Mammi exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were here. Is today kite-flying day?”

Davy looked up from his phone. “Nae. I’m coming tomorrow.”

Mammi’s eyes danced in delight. “How nice to have you here two days in a row. Cum reu and have a piece of Mandy’s lemon cake.”

Davy looked at Kristina. “Do you want to come in with me? I can show you all my games.”

Kristina nodded. “Do you have Angry Birds?”

“Jah. And Angry Birds Star Wars and Bad Piggies.”

“Go on in,” Mandy said. “I’ll be right there.”

Kristina and Davy strolled into the house with their eyes glued to their phones. They wouldn’t care one whit if Mandy joined them.

Mammi smiled her best grandmotherly smile at Mandy. “How nice of Davy to come up today. Once I sparked his interest with my kites, I knew he’d come through for me.” Mammi turned to Dawdi, who waited patiently while she buttoned up his black jacket. “Your dawdi and I are going out for a bit.”

“Do you want to come?” Dawdi asked, winking at her as if she were in on a secret.

“Now, Felty,” Mammi scolded. “Mandy can’t come with us. We might be gone for hours, and Junior Schwartz and Junior Shrock are coming for lunch.”

Mandy lifted her eyebrows. “They are?”

“They both go by ‘Junior,’ so try not to get confused,” Mammi said. “On the counter, I left a list of questions to ask them. Be sure to inspect them thoroughly. You’ve only got two weeks left.”

Mandy wasn’t quite sure what Mammi meant by “inspect them thoroughly,” but Mandy had no intention of doing any such thing. “One more week, Mammi. Only one.” Staying a full five weeks was out of the question. Noah Mischler was here. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

She exhaled slowly. In truth, she wanted to be by his side forever, but he didn’t want her and she wouldn’t put herself through the torture of being so close to him and yet feeling so distant. He hated her. She wanted to get as far away as possible.

Mammi’s disappointment was as thick as smoke. “Are you sure? There are still dozens of boys to meet. An extra week would give us time to bus them in from Cashton and Augusta.”

“I’m sure, Mammi. I need to get home and help Mamm with the canning.”

“The roof will be done by then,” Dawdi said.

Mandy had no idea what that had to do with her leaving. Her only concern was that Mammi and Dawdi would get a sturdy roof over their heads. “Lord willing.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get time to make something for lunch,” Mammi said, “but there are chicken wings in the fridge. Junior Number One has a big appetite, so be sure to make extra.” She furrowed her brow. “Oh dear. Chicken wings will never do for a boy with a big appetite. Do you want my spicy meatball recipe?”

Mandy smiled in resignation. She dreaded the thought of having to entertain more boys and “inspect them thoroughly,” but cooking something would help take her mind off Noah. “Chicken wings will be fine, Mammi. I’ll make a big potato salad to go with it.”

Mammi nodded. “That will fill them up. Be sure to invite Yost to eat with you. He can’t be on that roof all day with no nourishment.”

“I will.”

Mammi reached into her canvas bag. Among other things, she carried her knitting with her wherever she went in case she had an extra minute or two to make a pot holder.

“We should be home before dinnertime. Be sure to get rid of the lunch boys by four o’clock because John Shirk is coming at five.”

Mandy’s stomach felt like a pile of rocks. “John Shirk?”

“We’ve only got one more week, dear.” Mammi found what she had been looking for in her bag and pulled out four knitted creations that looked like oversized, stuffed pot holders. “I thought about making lentil stew tonight for dinner, but if you’ve got something else you’d like to make, I’ll save the lentil stew for later.”

Even though Mandy was in no way interested in a relationship with John Shirk, she didn’t want him to have a stomachache as his only remembrance of Huckleberry Hill. “I will make fried chicken, Mammi. You can relax.”

With her pot holder–like bundles in her hand, Mammi tagged along behind Dawdi down the porch steps and out onto the lawn. Both of them stopped and gazed up at Yost on the roof.

“Yost,” Dawdi called. “How is the work coming?”

“Slow,” Yost called back.

Mandy followed her grandparents so she could get a good view of Yost.

Dawdi shielded his eyes against the wind while he looked up at Yost. “And Noah says he’s not coming back?”

Yost studied the nail gun in his hand. “That’s right. He’s mighty busy with other repair work.”

Mandy ignored the way her heart thumped in her chest.

“Where is he today?” Dawdi said.

“At Yutzys’ fixing their egg sorter. At least that’s where he was going this morning.”

Mammi waved her yarn creations around her head. “Yost, I made these for you and Noah. They’re knee pads so your knees won’t get sore kneeling on that roof all day.”

Yost raised his eyebrows. “Denki, Anna. I’m sure they’ll come in handy.”

Too bad one pair of knee pads would go unused.

Mandy took the knee pads from her mammi. “I can take them up to him if you want.”

“That would be very kind of you, dear.”

Dawdi took Mammi’s elbow and led her to the barn to fetch the buggy. Mammi waved at Mandy. “Have fun with the Juniors. Pay special attention to their teeth.”

Mandy climbed the ladder. Yost met her at the top so she didn’t have to set foot on the roof and took the knee pads from her. He gave her a doubtful smile. “Denki.” Who knew what Noah had told him about her? He was probably reluctant to be in the same state with a girl who ruined people’s lives.

“How much longer do you think the roof will take?” Mandy asked.

“Three or four days. Lord willing, the weather will hold off until it’s done.”

“What’s left to do besides the shingles on this side?”

Yost wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “After that, I need to do the ridge cap. It’s a lot of cutting.” He examined Mammi’s knee pads, trying to figure out how they fit on his leg.

A very gute idea began to formulate in her brain. Yost needed more time. Noah wasn’t going to come back. “Could you use some help?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Noah’s not coming back. I’m happy to finish it for him.”

“What would you say if I knew someone who works for free, is really gute with a nail gun, and has two hours to kill?” She hadn’t actually ever used a nail gun, but she was sure she’d be good with one. How hard could it be?

Yost nodded. “Any little bit helps.”

“Gute. I will go and put on my sweatpants.”

Yost’s mouth formed the words before his tongue took action. “What? You?”

“Jah, me.”

“I could never allow a girl to help me. Noah wouldn’t like it. Neither would my mamm.”

Mandy hoped she’d get to meet this mamm who had drummed the manners into her sons such that they wouldn’t dare go against what she’d taught them. Rose Mischler must have been a very strong woman, and her sons must have loved and respected her for it.

“Neither Noah nor your mamm has to know,” Mandy said.

She stepped halfway down the ladder before Yost stopped her. “I don’t think this is a gute idea.”

“That’s okay. I’m not offended.”

She ran into the house where Davy and Kristina sat at the table studying Davy’s phone. “Slide your finger like this to see how many pieces of fruit you can slice in half,” Yost said.

“I got a watermelon,” Kristina said, bursting with excitement.

“Be careful. They start to come really fast.”

In her room, Mandy put on a pair of sweatpants she wore when she rode horses, plus another sweater under her jacket. It would be cold on that roof. She retied her shoes and buttoned her jacket and ran outside mere minutes after she had gone in. Working on the roof sounded like the most exciting thing she’d done all day—maybe because she needed to feel useful. Maybe because Noah would be furious if he found out. Gute. Let him be furious. He had no right to tell her what to do. She didn’t care what he thought.

If she kept telling herself these lies, she might forget the truth.

After a quick visit to the toolshed for an extra hammer, she bounded up the ladder with less caution than she’d ever used.
Take that, Noah Mischler.

Dawdi walked the horse and buggy out of the barn. Mammi sat inside with her knitting already wrapped in her fingers. Dawdi glanced up. “Mighty late in the year to try to get a suntan, Mandy.”

Mandy made sure she was securely planted on the roof before she lifted one hand and waved at Dawdi. “I want to be sure you to have a tight roof over your heads before I leave for Charm next week. Yost is teaching me.”

Dawdi wasn’t one to fuss when one of his relatives did something out of the ordinary. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t fall in the bushes behind the house. They’re stickery.” He climbed into the buggy, and it rolled down the lane. Mammi never looked up from her knitting.

Yost pulled a shingle from the bundle. “Are you sure about this? Have you ever laid shingles before?”

“You can teach me.”

He shook his head, reluctant to do anything that might get him into hot water. “Noah won’t like it.”

She took the shingle from his hand. “I don’t want to talk about Noah. I want to talk about your sister Lisa. Has she thought more about wedding colors?”

Yost stared at her. “Wedding colors? Lisa’s not engaged.”

“Every girl thinks about wedding colors. I might do something daring and go with pink plates.”

“Are you engaged?”

“Not at the moment, but there’s probably a boy somewhere in Ohio who will have me.”

Yost cracked a smile. “I don’t doubt more than one. There’s more than one in Bonduel who’ll have you too.”

He meant it as a joke, but to Mandy, it was like the poke of a pin in her heart. The boy she wanted didn’t want her. She pretended to be amused. “Show me how to fit this shingle, and I’ll tell you all about my wedding plans. I’m sure you’re dying to know.”

He chuckled uncomfortably. “If you show me how to put on these knee pads, I’ll show you how to match up the shingles.”

They determined they needed to tie the knee pads around the back of their legs. Yost’s were navy blue and Mandy’s were deep purple. “We look adorable,” Mandy said.

Yost seemed to relax more and more the longer they sat on the roof together. “I hope not. Here, slide away from the edge.” He picked up a shingle and pointed to a notch at the top. See this? You have to match this with the line and the shingle already down.”

With only the slightest misgivings, he showed her how to fit the shingle into place and how to use the nail gun. Soon they were working side by side, Yost with his nail gun and Mandy with Noah’s. He moved twice as fast as she did, but she had to believe that her help did him some good.

At least her help was of some value to somebody.

After a few minutes of not talking about wedding colors, Mandy said, “Yost, do you mind talking about your family? I’d love to hear all about them.”

The question took him by surprise. “Of course I talk about my family. Who doesn’t?”

Who doesn’t, indeed.
She pinned him with an earnest gaze. “Tell me about your mamm.”

Noah stepped back from the conveyor belt, careful not to step on one of the two dozen wire baskets of eggs on the floor near his feet. The Yutzys’ eggs were piling up for sorting, and he wasn’t anywhere near figuring out what was wrong with the sorting machine. There were so many moving parts and so many places where something could go wrong, he almost had to examine the machine inch by inch to figure it out.

It didn’t help that it was nearly impossible to keep his mind on the task at hand. Mandy’s stricken face, her pleading, her declaration that she loved him, all worked against him until he felt as if his grief would bury him. He barely knew which way was up.

He tried to ignore the twist of pain in his chest at the thought that she didn’t really love him. If she loved him, she would stay out of his business. She wouldn’t bring this horrible, paralyzing shame down on his head simply because she wanted to be right.

He’d be better off rid of her so he could pick up the pieces of his reputation in the community and try to move on with his miserable life.

He took a hex wrench from his toolbox and loosened a bolt at the front of the conveyor belt. Mandy might know how to use a hex wrench, but she knew nothing about fixing people’s lives. She’d made a mess of his. Who cared if she could wield a screwdriver with the best of them? It didn’t matter anymore.

Barbara Yutzy and her daughter Lizzie squatted near a basket of brown eggs sorting them by hand until Noah could get their machine up and running. “What do you think, Noah?” Barbara said. “Can you fix it?”

“Not yet,” Noah said, jiggling the wrench to loosen the bolt. “I’m working my way around it yet.”

“Well, if anybody can fix it, you can. I’ve never seen a mind better suited to figuring things out. Amos is good for nothing when it comes to machines.”

Noah let the praise slide off him like he always did. The Plain people tried to avoid the temptation to be proud. “I thank the gute Lord for my talents.”

“The Lord gave you your talents. You have sense enough to know how to use them.”

The bolt fell to the floor, and Noah scooped it into his hand and dropped it in his pocket. The floor of the barn where the Yutzys sorted their eggs was sparkling clean. Not an easy task on a chicken farm. A large window in the wall to his left revealed the main warehouse area where over two thousand chickens pecked at grain from dozens of feeders. Those chickens put out about two thousand eggs a day. The Yutzys needed their sorter something wonderful.

With his attention centered on the conveyor belt, Noah heard someone step into the barn.

“Come to help sort eggs?” Barbara said.

Noah looked up. Felty and Anna Helmuth stood in the wide doorway, grinning as if the idea of thousands of eggs made them ecstatic. Felty carried an old, heavy-looking apple box. Noah immediately stepped around the egg baskets and took the box from him. No sense in Felty pulling a muscle.

“Hullo,” Felty said, gladly giving the box to Noah.

The box contained six quart jars of something yellowish brown. Probably applesauce. Hadn’t Felty said something about doing applesauce yesterday?

“Barbara,” Noah said. “Do you want me to take this into the house?”

“Nae, Noah,” Anna said, folding her hands together. “The applesauce is for you. Mandy thought you might like some.”

Of course Mandy thought he might like some. She’d been to his house. She’d seen the condition of his cupboards. By now, everybody in Bonduel probably knew the condition of his cupboards. Anna and Felty’s offering was probably only the beginning of the food donations. Since Mandy couldn’t keep her mouth shut, his neighbors would feel sorry for him and probably start dropping off all sorts of food.

“Denki,” Noah said, even as the bitterness grew in his heart. What was everybody thinking about him now that Mandy had spread his private business all over town? “How did you know I was here?”

Felty walked farther into the room, eyeing the overflowing baskets of eggs that filled every corner of the room. “You could make a lot of Eggs Benefit with these, Annie Banannie.”

“Now, Felty,” Anna scolded.

“We heard you was having trouble with your egg sorter,” Felty said.

Barbara nodded while slipping eggs into their carton compartments. “Do you want to help sort, or what?”

Felty thumbed his suspenders. “I think we could spare some time to sort eggs, couldn’t we, Annie?”

“Jah. We would love to help,” Anna said, surveying the room with a subdued grin on her face. “This room is lovely, Barbara. It reminds me of the barn where I was born.”

Noah was pretty sure Anna wasn’t born in a barn, but he didn’t say anything. And there wasn’t much lovely about the egg sorting room. The walls were painted a very light blue, but other than that, there wasn’t one thing in the room that wasn’t functional to the process of packing eggs. Was Anna trying to butter Barbara up for something? Noah had known Anna long enough that he knew she always seemed to have a plan.

“It don’t matter how lovely this room is if we don’t get that egg machine fixed,” Barbara replied.

“We are ready and willing to sort eggs,” Anna said. “With my knitting experience, I’m sure I’ll be very quick at it. But first we need to talk to Noah.”

Noah wanted to avoid any such thing. There was no possible way that Anna and Felty would talk him into coming back to Huckleberry Hill to finish their roof. Yost could manage on his own.

Barbara stood and propped her hands on her hips. “Well, he’s busy. My egg sorter’s got to be fixed.”

Barbara was blunt like that, and she didn’t give an inch if she thought you didn’t deserve it. Maybe he wouldn’t be forced to explain himself to Anna and Felty after all. He said a quick prayer of thanks for Barbara Yutzy.

“Of course it does,” Felty said. “But we come all this way. Could you spare fifteen minutes for ajar of applesauce?”

Barbara wanted to say no. Obstinate annoyance was written all over her face. But the applesauce must have softened her up. Either that or she thought better of rubbing her neighbors the wrong way. Some of the lines around her mouth disappeared. “Okay, but make it quick. The eggs ain’t getting any younger.”

Felty’s eyes twinkled as if he were about to burst into laughter. “I’d say those eggs are about as young as they can get.”

Barbara didn’t laugh. She didn’t even crack a smile. “If you’re gonna go, go. Time’s a-wasting. And leave the applesauce on the table over there.”

Anna pulled a jar of applesauce from the box and laid it on the table as directed. “There’s a lovely willow outside, Noah. Shall we sit under it?”

Noah felt guilty as soon as he walked outside. The wind whipped through the trees, sending leaves tumbling to the ground like rain and making a fantastic racket. Yost would be having a terrible time getting the last of the shingles on.

He’d cook an extra nice meal for dinner to make it up to him. Yost understood why Noah couldn’t return to Huckleberry Hill. He loved his brother and didn’t begrudge him the extra work.

Noah still carried the box of applesauce. “I’ll put this in my wagon,” he said.

He tromped to his wagon while Anna and Felty ambled to the giant willow that sat in the Yutzys’ front yard. With the wind blowing branches every which way, they wouldn’t be able to hear a thing under that tree. Gute. They didn’t need to hear what he really thought of their granddaughter.

Noah laid the box of applesauce in the bed of his wagon and turned to see Felty and Anna pointing to a small toolshed behind the tree. “It’s too noisy,” Felty yelled over the din of the wind. “Let’s go to the shed.”

Anna and Felty still weren’t going to hear what Noah really thought about Mandy. He’d keep his mouth shut, like he always did.

First Anna and then Felty disappeared inside the shed. Noah came last, opening the door and letting it swing shut behind him. He gasped as he nearly plowed Anna over. The shed was almost pitch black with dim slits of light squeezing between a few loose slats. They stood in a small circle facing each other. With tools, shelves, and bags of feed lining the walls, there wasn’t much room for them to spread out.

Felty held up a penlight and shined it at the ceiling in the center of their little circle. “It’s a little cramped in here,” he said.

Anna clapped her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Barbara won’t know what became of us.”

“That might buy us an extra five minutes,” Felty said.

Taking a deep breath, Anna wiped the smile off her face. Even in the dim light, Noah could see her intense gaze. “Noah,” she said, “the Bible says that if my brother has aught against me that I need to go and be reconciled to that brother.”

He held his breath, ready for a lecture. Mandy, who didn’t seem to know how to keep quiet about anything, must have told them how he’d yelled at her yesterday, and the Helmuths didn’t like how their granddaughter had been treated.

He clenched his jaw. They were probably justified. He hadn’t been very nice. In his anger, he’d forgotten everything his mamm had taught him about how to treat a girl. She would be ashamed if she ever found out.

But what did one more person matter? The shame already smothered him like a pile of dirt. What was one more stone on the heap?

Anna rummaged through her big canvas bag, which she had managed to fit in the shed with them. Felty nearly fell backward into a stack of fertilizer bags when he tried to make room for Anna’s oversized purse.

She pulled something from her bag and slipped it into his hand. He raised it to the light. It was a pot holder. “Noah, dear, I’m afraid I have offended you.”

Noah stuttered as the honor of receiving a pot holder rendered him speechless. “I . . . I don’t understand. You think you’ve offended me?”

“When Yost came to Huckleberry Hill this morning, I sensed right away that something was wrong. Noah Mischler would never walk away and leave a job undone unless he had a very gute reason.”

Warmth pulsed through Noah’s veins, replacing the ice that had hardened his heart for the last twenty-four hours. Was that what people thought of him? That he always finished a job he’d committed to do? They knew about his fater, didn’t they? Why would they still hold a good opinion of Noah?

Anna raised her eyebrows and nodded emphatically. “Felty pointed out, and very rightly so . . .”

“Denki, Banannie,” Felty said.

“You’re welcome, dear. Felty pointed out, very rightly so, that I have been handing out pot holders to complete strangers while ignoring you and all the gute work you’ve done on our house.” Anna was close enough to reach out and cup her hand over Noah’s cheek. “I never meant to make you feel unimportant.”

Noah was quite dumbfounded. They weren’t going to scold him? “I . . . I don’t deserve this,” he finally managed to say.

“We really, really want you to have the pot holder,” Felty said, as if pot holders were as valuable as gold.

Noah let out a breath he’d been holding for a long time. “Okay. Thank you. I’m very grateful.”

“And you forgive me?” Anna said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Anna clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. What a sweet boy you are.” She zipped her canvas bag shut. “And now, much as I’d enjoy spending the rest of the morning in this shed with you, I did promise Barbara I would help sort eggs until her machine is fixed. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Barbara.” She lowered her voice. “Much as I love her, she can be a might testy yet.” Anna nudged her way around Noah and out the shed door. “Come on, Noah. The sooner you get back to work, the sooner Barbara will get her machine back. I’d rather not wash chicken poop off the eggs by hand. It will ruin my appetite.”

Noah and Felty followed Anna out of the shed. The wind blew as loud as ever, but Noah welcomed the fresh air and the wide-open space.

Anna walked ahead of them as Felty clapped a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “So, you’ve got your pot holder. You never said if you’d come back.”

Noah turned his face away. He’d hoped in all the kerfuffle about pot holders and applesauce and chicken poop that Felty would forget about the roof. Even though Anna had sacrificed one of her precious pot holders for him, he couldn’t come back. Felty would never understand why.

“Yost’s a fast worker.”

Felty stroked his beard. “I’m not worried about the roof. Yost is working hard, and now that Mandy’s helping him, they won’t be working past Friday.”

Noah coughed as if a bug had flown into his mouth. “Mandy?”

“She got on the roof and started hammering away this morning.”

Noah felt the anger build inside him. “She shouldn’t be up there. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t wonder but she’ll be okay. She’s not one to take risks, and she has the Helmuth sense of balance.”

Not one to take risks? Noah recalled having to pull her out of a river once. “She still shouldn’t be up there.” He clenched his teeth together. Someday he’d wear them down to nubs. Had she gone up there just to irritate him? Or to compel him to come back?

His teeth screeched as they ground against each other. The thought of Mandy lying in a heap on the ground buried under a pile of shingles made him want to jump in his wagon and ride as fast as the wind to Huckleberry Hill.

He shook his head. He’d never let Mandy dictate what he did and didn’t do with his life. If she thought putting herself in danger would force him to come back, she was greatly mistaken.

If she fell, it would be by her own choice.

He ignored the fact that he felt as agitated as a swarm of bees. Any more of this jaw clamping and he’d give himself a headache.

“Are you hungry?” Felty asked.

“What?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I guess.” Noah motioned toward his wagon. “But I brought a lunch.”

Noah followed Felty to his wagon, where Felty reached into the applesauce box and pulled out one of Noah’s five remaining jars. Felty unscrewed the ring, popped off the lid with his fingernails, and took a swig of applesauce like it was a glass of water. “Annie’s applesauce is nice and runny. I always drink it instead of eating it with a spoon. It saves time.”