Huckleberry Harvest (8 page)

“You need to remove the red cap. Give it a couple of twists. It doesn’t take much to get it off.”

Mandy twisted the cap off, and Noah showed her how to invert the regulator to be ready for LP gas. When they finished underneath, Noah slid the oven away from the wall and stepped into the space behind it. “Now I need to put on the fittings and hook up the gas line.”

He pulled the balsa wood cork from the hole in the wall he had drilled on Friday. “Could you hand me the Teflon tape,” he said. “Do you know what that is?”

She found the yellow tape at the bottom level of the toolbox and passed it to him. “Of course I know what Teflon tape is.”

He smirked. “Of course you do.”

Mandy grinned with her whole face. “We both know how smart I am, but I’m wondering where you learned to install appliances. Did your dat teach you? Did you work on things together when you were growing up?”

Noah’s eyes were trained on the tape while he tried to open the tightly wrapped package, and he acted as if he hadn’t heard her. She bent her head sideways to meet his eye. “Tell me about your dat. Is he as handy as you are?”

Noah laid his arm across the top of the oven and turned his face from her. He let out a laugh, but there was only bitterness in it. “For a minute, I thought you were being sincere.”

She furrowed her brow. What had she said to make him suddenly so resentful? “I am sincere.”

He clenched his jaw and glared at her. “I don’t believe you.”

“What . . . what did I say?”

Clutching the tape in his hand until his knuckles turned white, he said, “I’m so stupid. The cookie dough, the wrench, the apology. They’re all just more of Kristina’s tricks. She told you to ask about my dat, didn’t she? Did the two of you think it would be funny to humiliate me? To get back at me for hurting Kristina’s feelings?”

Mandy wasn’t quite sure what she was being accused of so didn’t know how to defend herself. “I don’t want to get back at you.”

“Then why are you dragging my dat into this?”

Even knowing how disagreeable he was, Noah’s reaction nearly knocked Mandy over. They’d been getting along so well. She backed away and leaned against the counter near the sink. “I don’t understand. Is something wrong with your dat?”

Her question seemed to heighten his agitation. “Why does everybody think something’s wrong?”

“You don’t have to jump down my throat for asking a simple question.” Why was she trying to reason with him when what she wanted to do was wring his neck?

And why was he so touchy about his dat?

She crossed her arms over her chest to push down the hurt that threatened to bubble up. She didn’t really care why Noah had erupted like a volcano at the mention of his
fater
. As he had told her, it was none of her business.

Still, she felt the need to defend herself. “Do you really think I would hurt your feelings just to get back at you for what you did to Kristina?”

“What I did to Kristina?” He spat the words out of his mouth as if they were too sour to taste.

“Do you really think I’m that petty?”

Noah studied her face as if he were evaluating her sincerity. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand across his eyes and seemed to wilt like a flower in the heat. “I’m sorry. It’s wrong of me to talk to you like this.” He turned his back on her, which in the small space wasn’t an easy task. “I don’t need any more help with the oven. I just want to be left alone.”

She shouldn’t have given him that cookie dough. Noah Mischler was so prickly, he didn’t even deserve a chocolate chip, let alone a whole cookie.

Mandy picked up her broom, walked to the corner of the room farthest from Noah, and swept as if all the dirt in the world were in that one little space. The floor had never been so clean.

Even with the swish of the broom, Mandy could have heard a pin drop three rooms away. Noah was so quiet, she wondered if he was breathing. How she wished she were anywhere but here!

Thank the good Lord for Mammi. She and Dawdi blew into the house like a fresh spring breeze and dispelled the stale air hanging between Noah and Mandy.

Mammi carried two bulging grocery sacks, her knitting bag, and a wide smile. “Look what I found at the store,” she said, ushering three obviously uneasy boys into the room. “More prospects.”

All three tiptoed just inside the door and fingered the brims of their straw hats.

“I invited them for lunch,” Mammi said. She must have been desperate to find Mandy a husband. She had resorted to bringing strays home.

Grateful for any diversion, even an awkward one, Mandy leaned her broom against the wall and stepped forward to greet her guests, showing ten times more enthusiasm than she felt.

She shook hands with the first young man, who couldn’t have been more than thirteen years old. He stood nearly half a foot shorter than Mandy.

Mammi placed her grocery bags on the table and pointed to the young teenager. “This is Benjamin Hoover, and this,” she said, hooking her elbow around the arm of the middle boy and eagerly pulling him forward, “is his brother Stephen.”

Stephen blushed so hard that his fair, freckly face turned purple. He was definitely older and taller than Benjamin. Probably just the right age for a wife. Mandy breathed an inward sigh of relief. Benjamin was Stephen’s tagalong, not a potential suitor. Thank goodness Mammi wasn’t that desperate.

Benjamin poked his brother with his elbow. “Me and Stephen are visiting from Greenwood to help our
Onkel
Perry get the feed corn in yet.”

The third boy scratched his chin absentmindedly and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. He was short and stocky, with a neck as thick as his head.

“This is Buddy,” Mammi said. Her enthusiasm seemed to slag a bit. Buddy, with his blank stare and faint body odor, didn’t seem the cream of the crop.

“Nice to meet you,” Buddy said, snorting as if he were clearing his sinuses from the inside.

Mandy pasted a smile on her face and reminded herself that at least she didn’t have to be alone with Noah. “You too.”

Mammi patted Stephen on the back and motioned to a chair at the table. “I promised these boys lunch and a pot holder if they came to Huckleberry Hill to meet you.”

Realizing she’d been holding her breath in mortification, Mandy sucked the air into her lungs and forced it out again. It wouldn’t be a good idea to hyperventilate just now. Mammi’s three recruits eyed her tentatively, as if she had a dread disease. Why else would her mammi be luring potential boyfriends to Huckleberry Hill?

Being careful not to limp, she strolled into the kitchen to show her visitors she wasn’t lame and took a stack of plates from the cupboard. Noah didn’t look at her, and she recoiled at the idea of even glancing his way. “Noah has almost finished the stove,” Mandy said, barely even coughing at the mention of his name. “When it’s ready, I’ll grill some cheese sandwiches.”

Mammi clapped her hands. “I’ll make Eggs Benedict.”

“But, Mammi, it’s not breakfast.”

“Ach, nobody cares about that,” Mammi said, as cheerful as a daisy. “And I’ve been saving up the eggs.”

Mandy relaxed her shoulders and even managed a wan smile. She had no worries about running off this fresh batch of boys. One or two bites of Mammi’s Eggs Benedict should do it.

“Hey, I know you,” Buddy said, maneuvering his large frame around Stephen and Benjamin and pointing to Noah. “You and your dat laid the wood floor at our house.”

Noah’s dark expression descended even deeper into shadow. “We did?”

Buddy propped his elbows on the stove and leaned in for a better look. “It had to be eight or nine years ago. You were just a young teenager. Your dad brought you along and nobody’s ever laid a tighter floor.”

Noah fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing back and forth between Buddy and the roll of tape in his hands. “I recognize you. We did your house in Oconto.”

“That’s right,” Buddy said. “There’s nobody better with wood than your dad. How’s he been?”

Noah didn’t take his eyes from the yellow tape. “Fine. He’s fine.”

Buddy loudly cleared his sinuses again. “I understood he wasn’t doing so good.”

“Dat is gute. He has a woodworking shop behind our house.” Was it her imagination, or had Noah turned deathly pale in a matter of seconds? He seemed uncharacteristically vulnerable, like a little boy afraid of the dark.

Buddy swiped his finger at a piece of lint on the stovetop. “I heard that after what happened to your sister he—”

“Buddy,” Mandy interjected. She hadn’t meant to be quite so loud, but at least she’d gotten everyone’s attention. “I want to know more about you.”

Buddy shifted his weight so that he was still leaning on the new stove, but he faced her and puckered his lips into a passable smile. He still probably suspected she had leprosy or something. “Well, what do you want to know?”

Her mind raced for an interesting topic of conversation. Anything to divert his attention from Noah, who looked as if he might pass out any second now. “I didn’t know there was an Amish community in Oconto. How many families are in your district?”

Buddy twisted his wrist and waved his hand around. “There ain’t any Amish folks I know of.”

“Your family’s without
gmayna
?” Dawdi chimed in, glancing at Noah and trying to help the conversation along.

Buddy pushed away from the stove and stood up straight. He folded his arms and looked at Dawdi. “Well, I ain’t Amish. I’m a Mennonite. We’ve got a small congregation in Oconto, not far from the lake.”

“Oh,” Mammi said, twisting her lips into a crooked line. Nobody but Mandy and Dawdi would recognize that Mammi’s feathers were ruffled by this news. If she’d been a chicken, no doubt she would have puffed up like a beach ball.

Buddy wore the traditional shirt and trousers with suspenders instead of a belt. He looked Amish enough. No one could fault Mammi for being confused.

Clutching a few tools in his hand, Noah slipped past Buddy and the other boys and out the door, trying to attract as little attention as possible. No doubt he was in a hurry to hook the propane tank to the stove and get away from Buddy and Mandy as soon as possible.

Buddy droned on and on about living near the lake and how he went fishing almost every day except Sundays.

Noah stepped back into the house. He glanced at Buddy. “Anna, do you want me to show you how to use your new stove before I leave?”

“Of course,” Mammi said. “I want to make Eggs Benedict.”

Mammi and Dawdi followed Noah to the stove. He pushed it against the wall and adjusted it until Mammi was satisfied it was straight. She pulled a notebook and pencil from the drawer. “I better write this down in case I forget.”

Mandy sighed. She didn’t need a stove lesson—she used an LP gas stove every day at home—but she would need to keep her potential husbands entertained while Noah explained the stove to her grandparents. She didn’t want Buddy to have a chance to corner Noah again.

She walked to the table and smiled at Buddy as she passed him. Motioning to Ben and Stephen, she pulled a chair from the table. “Do you want to play Scrabble while we wait for Eggs Benedict?”

Ben shrugged. “Sure. What about you, Stephen?”

Stephen blushed and nodded. Stephen was either painfully shy or mute. He hadn’t said a word since he’d gotten here.

Mandy got the Scrabble board from the closet and sat down at the table with her three suitors. Well, two suitors and one chaperone. Turning over letter tiles, she listened as Noah explained how to operate the oven. Mammi asked him to repeat every instruction three times, and he calmly walked her through everything she might need to know about the new appliance.

Mandy’s mouth curled involuntarily. Even with his long list of bad qualities, Noah proved incredibly patient with her grandparents. Of course, that didn’t mean he was patient with anybody else, especially girls with freckles. She’d personally witnessed how testy he could be. Still, she felt sorry about his dat. And what had happened to his sister? There was obviously a mountain of pain behind all that orneriness.

Benjamin was winning Scrabble handily when Noah finished with her grandparents. Mandy noticed how he carefully packed up his tools and wiped the floor and cupboards where he had left dust or smudges.

She heard Dawdi invite him back tomorrow to build a rain shelter for the propane tank. She was mildly pleased when she heard Noah agree to return and then chastised herself for being so shallow. He might be handsome and patient with old people, but Noah Mischler’s faults would fill a bathtub to overflowing. She didn’t need the aggravation he brought to her life.

As Mandy tried to form seven consonants into a word, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Noah carefully picked up her bowl of cookie dough and wedged it into his toolbox. He paused and looked at her, compelling her to lift her gaze to his face. He gifted her with a genuine smile, making her heart swell as wide as the sky.

What was that for? Wasn’t he trying to avoid her?

Before she had a chance to figure it out, he snapped his toolbox shut and marched out the door.

Good-bye, Noah.

And good riddance.

She put her hand to her warm cheek. She really hoped Noah liked the cookies. He had saved her life. He deserved something for that.

Mandy wasn’t nearly as speedy a knitter as Mammi, but she would have been able to hold her own in a knitting club. Her fingers were nimble, and she seldom dropped a stitch. Mammi had taught her well.

Mandy and Mammi sat in the great room, Mammi in her rocker and Mandy on the sofa, knitting pot holders. Dawdi lounged in his new recliner and read the newspaper.

Yesterday, Mammi had given Benjamin, Stephen, and Buddy each a pot holder as promised, and found that she only had one left in her closet. Mandy had offered to help her replenish the supply, and right quick.