Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) (23 page)

Emma pulled her gaze from his chest and stared at the ground. Her face flushed a deep rose. “I like horses just fine. Most girls…women do.” So he wouldn’t get the notion she’d come tonight to moon after him, she added, “I’m here to price horses to pull my pony cart.”

Graciously, James said nothing about her staring at him, but he seemed to stand straighter than before. “Ah, you might want to see the Appaloosas they’ll be auctioning tomorrow—beautiful animals, gentle and intelligent. Would you like to take a look at them, Emma?”

He offered his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman.

She almost took hold but then remembered the gossip her
daed
had heard at the harness maker’s. Her hand slipped down to her side. “Thank you, but I don’t suspect there are any slippery patches along the way.” She took a step toward the barns.

“In that case, I can’t wait till winter. Then you’ll walk a little closer, and I can pretend you’re really my girl.”

He spoke the last words softy, but Emma heard him clearly. She felt warmth in her belly and halted in the thoroughfare. Folks behind them were forced to detour around. “Why would you do that?” she asked. “You’re off to college soon.”

“Because nothing in this world would make be happier, and going to college doesn’t change that.”

Emma felt a little faint—too many jostling people and too much late-summer humidity. The hot dog sat like a lead weight in her belly. “Could we go back to talking horses, please?” she pleaded.

“If you prefer,” James said. “Let’s tell your brother we’re going in the horse barn so he doesn’t worry.”

She nodded, sorry she hadn’t thought of that. They easily found him; he was half a head taller than his pals.

Matthew took one look at James and started to smirk. “Hi,” he crowed. “What a surprise! I didn’t think you’d be interested in draft horses.”

“I love all horses.” James extended his hand. “Good to see ya again, Matt.”

They shook hands, while Matthew’s Amish friends kept glancing from one to the other.

“We’re going inside just for a minute,” Emma said. “I need to look at ponies if I’m going to retire Belle.”

“Sure, we’ll be over at the pull. It’s getting ready to start.” Matthew tipped his hat and walked off, his friends following after him. One of them looked over his shoulder at Emma curiously.

Emma exhaled through her nostrils. “I hope he doesn’t make a big thing out of this.”

“Of what, Em?” James sounded confused.

“Of you…and me…oh, never mind. I’m worried about nothing.” She smiled politely, remembering it wasn’t James’ fault that an Amish girl’s behavior was limited compared to that of English girls.

They found the smaller horses indoors. Although she had no intention of parting with any hard-earned money for a new pony yet, it was fun to compare and discuss different breeds. Emma easily picked out a favorite.

James agreed with her choice of an Appaloosa filly. “You’ve got a good eye. You have talents you’ve kept hidden from me.” He gently tucked a stray lock inside her
kapp
.

Emma felt her heartbeat quicken and her palms grow damp. “You mustn’t touch my face in public,” she whispered. “It’s not proper.” She found herself on the verge of tears.

Not because he’d caressed her face, but because she had enjoyed it so much…and because she had wanted him to continue.

This cannot be.

Emma shook herself as though waking from a dream.

“Yes, it shall be an Appaloosa when I’m ready to buy. Thank you for sharing your expertise with me.” She bobbed her head formally. “Now let’s return to my brother so I can watch the horse-pulling competition.”

“Of course,” he said, looking abashed.

Emma forced herself to put one foot in front of the other to walk out the door. So much of her wanted to remain alone with James in the horse barn—surrounded by buyers and sellers, yet somehow alone just the same.

August

H
ullo,
fraa
. Is lunch almost ready?” Seth called, breaking Hannah’s daydreaming.

Hannah straightened up very slowly, allowing each vertebra in her spine to ease back into place. Spasms in her arms and shoulders reminded her she had been picking vegetables for a long while. Shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare with her hand, she spotted Seth by the garden gate. “Lunch?” she called. “How could you be hungry already? Didn’t we just eat breakfast?”

“Hours ago, my dear wife. It’s well past noon.” Seth sauntered through the green beans, looking annoyingly fresh. How could the man spend the morning tilling between rows of sweet corn and not look as limp as a dishrag? Her shoes were scuffed, her apron was dirty, her dress was pasted to her back, and her scalp prickled beneath her
kapp
. She could just imagine what she looked like.

“How goes your day?” he asked when he reached her, midway down a row. He took the basket of beans from her grasp.

“I’ve been going round in circles. I suffered plenty of scratches to pick enough blackberries to make jam, and then Turnip ate half the bucket while my back was turned.”

Her husband grinned from ear to ear. “Maybe he thought you picked them for him.” Seth rocked back on his heels.

“That dog is supposed to be guarding sheep, not thieving in the berry patch. Then I only got half the peaches picked before spotting a hornet’s nest at arm’s length. I had to leave the rest behind. Suddenly, everything in the garden has ripened at once, needing to be picked and canned before it starts to rot.” She wiped her sleeve across her forehead, leaving behind a smear of dirt.

“Is that all?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

“No, that’s not all. My feet are so swollen it feels like I put on somebody else’s shoes, and my back hurts from bending over.”

Seth dropped his arm from around her shoulder to the base of her spine and rubbed in a circular motion. “Where is that imp, Phoebe? She’s supposed to be helping you out here.”

Hannah shook her head. “She said she was getting a drink of water half an hour ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Let’s get you out of this hot sun for a while.” Tugging her hand, Seth gently led her from the garden.

Inside the house, they found Phoebe sitting at the kitchen table. A glass of water sat in front of her, while her doll occupied the opposite chair. A toy cup had been provided for the doll’s refreshment.

“Hi,
mamm
and
daed
,” the child sang out when they entered the room.

“Are you having a tea party while your
mamm
works outside alone?” Seth asked, sounding sterner than Hannah had ever heard him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and ran to hug Hannah around the waist. Her dimpled face looked truly repentant.

“It’s all right, Phoebe,” Hannah said. She washed her arms and face at the sink while the child clutched her skirt.

“You help her make my big, gourmet lunch while I clean up next,” Seth instructed.

“Seth Miller,” Hannah said, tossing the hand towel to him. “We are having cold ham sandwiches and maybe a few spoonfuls of chow chow. That’s it. There’s no time to cook a big…”

He cut off her words with a finger pressed to her sun-chapped lips. “Easy now. I was joking. What happened to that great sense of humor you had when we got hitched?” Seth buzzed a kiss across her damp forehead and then took his turn washing up.

What did happen to my sense of humor?
Hannah had been edgy, irritable, and emotional. Never one to cry over spilled milk or scorched oatmeal, lately she found herself crying…or fuming…over inconsequential things. The August heat and humidity weren’t helping. Tonight, maybe they could try sleeping in the screened porch since the upstairs bedrooms were nearly unbearable.

Hannah fixed three sandwiches, adding a tomato slice to each, and poured cool drinks. She tried to smile pleasantly for the duration of the meal. Just because the weather and female hormones were making her cross, she had no right to take it out on—

Suddenly an idea, a possibility struck her like a thunderclap. The jar of pickled chow chow slipped from her fingers to land with a thud on the oak table.

Seth looked alarmed. “Are you all right, Hannah?”

“
Jah
, just fine. Butterfingers, is all.” She wiped up the spilled vinegar with the dishrag and tried to eat her sandwich, while counting days and weeks in her mind.
Two, three…was her monthly really three weeks late?

Hannah went over days and events as best as she could recollect, yet kept arriving at the same conclusion. Or was it merely wishful thinking? Phoebe and Seth seemed to be watching her, so Hannah ate her sandwich and drank her iced tea as normally as possible.
Could I possibly be pregnant?

She felt different, both physically and emotionally. She felt bloated, clumsy, and painfully tender. Isn’t that what happened when a woman was in a family way? Hannah speared a piece of pickled celery and marveled at the crunchy texture while she chewed. Either this was the best batch of chow chow her sister ever canned or something was different.

When Seth grabbed his hat and returned to the fields, and Phoebe carried their plates to the sink, Hannah mulled a dozen ideas in her head. What month would the baby arrive? What names would Seth like to use? Would her delivery be smooth or, because this was her first pregnancy, would she end up in bed for the final months like one of her cousins had endured?

How she wanted to run the back path to her sister’s house. Having given birth to four healthy
kinner
, Julia could answer a bushel basket of questions. But she didn’t dare. It was too soon, and she couldn’t be sure. She would get no one’s hopes up but her own. But, oh, how she hoped that she was expecting.

So she prayed.

She prayed while finishing the rest of the bean rows, and while picking zucchini and squash. And when she milked cows and fed the chickens, she prayed a little more, ignoring that her dress stuck to her back and her forehead dripped with perspiration. Finally, the sun dropped behind the western hills, bringing relief from the oppressive heat. While a chicken roasted in the oven and potatoes boiled for dinner, she enjoyed a cool sponge bath and put on a fresh dress. Phoebe busied herself with the blackberries Turnip had left, washing them and picking off the stems and leaves.

Seth returned earlier than expected from the fields and also took a quick bath. “There’s a meeting tonight, Hannah,” he announced while towel drying his hair. “Let’s eat as soon as possible. All the men in the district are congregating at the Steiner farm.”

Hannah only nodded and smiled. The fact that he was off to discuss family business without her didn’t trouble her as much as it had in the past. She would heed Simon’s advice to the best of her ability. After all, God rewarded those who were obedient—who listened and followed His Word.

This might be the sweet reward she had been waiting seven years for…a baby!

Seth hitched his fastest horse to the buggy and left right after dinner. The chicken and parsley potatoes had been quite tasty, even though Hannah had spent most of the day in the garden. She had a sunburned nose to show for her hard labor.

Iced tea and apple pie would have to wait until he returned home. Seth was eager to get to the meeting to gauge the district’s sentiments. A lot of money had been raised to lease nearby available land. More money had been invested in seed corn and additional equipment. Many men like him had worked long hours planting a late corn crop after their regular chores were finished to maximize profits for the community fund.

The profits would only be there, though, if a killing frost didn’t come early. Or if a late summer drought didn’t shrivel the new plants to dust. Or if a plague of locusts didn’t swoop down and devour every last kernel. Many things could go wrong, some that hadn’t occurred to Seth while he was convincing his wife and brother that this was the answer to their prayers. Now he wasn’t so sure. And that uncertainty soured his stomach, despite Hannah’s delicious roast chicken.