Planted with Hope (20 page)

 

Pea-Pod Soup

Pods from 2 quarts peas

1 onion, diced

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

1 tsp. sugar

Dash nutmeg

2 cups milk

3 Tbsp butter

3 Tbsp flour

Wash pea pods and cut into pieces, cover with water and boil with the onion for 1 hour. Puree mixture, add seasonings, sugar, nutmeg and hot milk. Heat to boiling and thicken with butter and flour mixture. Serves 4.
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Ruth Berolzheimer,
250 Delicious Soups
(Consolidated Book Publishers, Inc., 1940), 29.

Chapter Fifteen

The right to do something doesn't always make it the right thing to do.

A
MISH
P
ROVERB

T
he aroma of coffee filled the morning air. Hope laid out her garden stakes on the kitchen table. With a permanent marker she wrote out the vegetables' names to match the seed packets: turnips, potatoes, peas, kale, celery, cauliflower, carrots, cabbage, broccoli, beets. She smiled when she read the last one. One of the very first things that Emma had told her about Jonas was that her father didn't like beets. Little did Hope know when she saw that messy girl with an ice cream cone that Emma would become an important part of her life. But just how important? Hope was still trying to decide. She also wondered when she'd see them again and hoped it would be soon. She couldn't help but smile when thinking about them, especially Jonas.

Hope had always just assumed that she'd marry a bachelor. It seemed strange to think of dating a man who already had a beard. A man who'd already been married before. She finished her garden stakes and poured herself a cup of coffee. She'd wanted to get out to the garden early, but when she heard her mem getting
ready for the day she considered asking her for advice. She needed someone to talk to. She needed to make sense of her thoughts, her heart.

She poured Mem a cup of coffee and buttered two slices of toast.

Mem exited from the bathroom, and when she entered the kitchen her face brightened. “Oh, breakfast with one of my favorite daughters. What a wonderful surprise. Is that for me?” She pointed to the coffee and toast.

“
Ja
, of course.”

Mem sat. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“How do you know that I want to talk?”

“Ever since you were a child you've always gotten up early and waited for me when you wanted to talk. The other girls can spill their hearts among the noise and commotion, but not you.”

“Well,
ja,
you do know me.” Hope sucked in a deep breath and then released it slowly. “Mem, what do you know about Jonas Sutter?”

“He seems like a nice enough man, but my opinion is that he needs to get himself a wife to help him care for that little girl. I've heard of a few times that she's gotten into trouble around Pinecraft, not counting the time she flipped over that canoe. Now we know why God assigned
two
parents to children—some of them need two sets of eyes on them.” Mem sighed. “I'm just sorry that it's come to this. Jonas should have made sure that Emma had a mother before now. It's the right thing to do… I mean after what happened.”

Hope put the lid on the marker and stacked her garden stakes into a pile. “But it's not Jonas's fault that his wife died. Maybe he's just waiting for time to heal his heart. Maybe he's trying to find love again.”

“
Ja
, but surely there is a nice woman his age who lost her husband. Do you know anyone, Hope? I do remember that you had a friend in Walnut Creek who lost her husband in a buggy and car accident.”

Hope sat silent. She knew who Mem was speaking of, but that friend had three very active boys. Joining a family like that would be hard on Emma.

With Hope's silence Mem paused and looked at Hope. “Why are you asking?” Mem asked.

“Oh, I was just wondering.”

Mem pushed her glasses up on her nose and leaned forward, peering deep into Hope's eyes. “You're not smart on Jonas Sutter, are you?”

“I wouldn't say that.” Hope nibbled at her lower lip. “But I do like many of his qualities. I'd like to find someone like him—a bachelor like him to marry,” she added for her mem's benefit… even though she wasn't convinced of that herself.

Mem picked up her toast and took a bite. She nodded and held her gaze. “
Ja
, I see.”

Hope packed up all of her things in her gardening bucket, not sure if her mother's answer helped or hurt. Did that mean Mem liked him? Or did she have concerns? Mem nibbled on her toast again but remained silent, which was very unlike her. Maybe she'd learned from trying to persuade Lovina not to get involved with Noah Yoder at first.

“I suppose I'll just have to keep looking,” Hope finally said.
And watching Jonas, getting to know him better, too,
she added to herself. Hope rose and placed her garden stakes into her bucket, eager to get to the garden spot. Eager to see what the day held.

Jonas would be a good husband to a widow,
she thought as she offered her mem a quick wave goodbye. He'd be a good husband
to anyone. She sighed thinking about that.
Ja,
if she could marry anyone, it would be someone just like Jonas Sutter.

On the walk to the garden, Hope steered clear of the people and the workers setting up for the Haiti Auction. She'd gone to the auction last year, and while she enjoyed the food and seeing all the items up for auction, she didn't like the crowds. The Haiti Auction was held in three giant tents where they offered quilts, tools, tractors, tiny houses for Haiti, Amish-made furniture, and more. The many food stations offered homemade glazed donuts, pretzel dogs, Brazilian chicken, fried fish, blooming onions, and other wonderful food. Each of these stations was manned by the Amish from out of state, joined by Mennonite volunteer helpers who lived in Pinecraft year-round. Her guess was that by the time the auction started later that day she'd be able to hear the auctioneers over the loudspeakers. Hope was thankful that she had her quiet garden to retreat to until then.

She'd just settled down to start planting lettuce when she heard a voice call to her from the side of the building.

“There you are. I was hoping I'd find you around here.”

Hope struggled for something to say as an older man rounded the corner. He pulled off his hat with a smile and ran his fingers through his flyaway gray hair.

“I've been here for a little while,” Hope said. “There's nothing quite like fresh dew on a morning garden.”

“I heard that you were the young lady behind the garden. I came by and was poking around yesterday. Your sister Lovina said that you like to garden early in the morning. I know that's how people like to do it up in Ohio where you're from, but around Pinecraft there are very few people out and around at 6:00 a.m.”

“It's a habit, I guess.” She raked her hand through the dirt, making sure to break up the clumps. Then, with the edge of the trowel, she made a long line in the dirt and tried to pretend she didn't have an audience.

It didn't work. He ambled closer, and his gray eyes appeared amused. “You're going to have quite the garden here, once you get everything growing.”

She opened the seed packet and sprinkled the seeds in her hand.

“What are you planting?” the man asked.

“Arugula.”

“Oh, I just love homegrown lettuce. It's so much better than the store-bought stuff. They have to grow that lettuce so it's tough enough to handle being transported and shelved for weeks.”

She forced a smile. “
Ja
, homegrown lettuce is better.”

“I've lived here for five years, and I've never seen a garden like this,” he said, looking around. “You know that the city council came to us a while back and asked us if we wanted a community garden here in Pinecraft. I liked the idea, but since most of the folks only come during the winter months it's a lot of work for the few who stay here year-round. I'm glad to see that someone's committed to this. I'm glad someone's planning to stick around.”

Guilt plagued Hope at his words. People assumed that because she was planting this garden that she was staying. Of course that only made sense. Who planted and did all the work without waiting for the harvest? Not that many people she supposed.

“A garden is a big commitment,” she finally said. And as she planted the lettuce seeds in the ground she wondered if she was sinking her roots in this place one seed at a time, whether she intended to or not.