Sarah's Gift (23 page)

EPILOGUE

T
he
trees, covered with the pale yellow green of early spring, arched over the picnic tables set up in Anna and Samuel’s backyard, and the flowerbeds along the house were bright with sunny yellow daffodils and deep purple hyacinths. It was an off Sunday, and Anna had invited several families for a picnic lunch and to meet Rachel’s new baby.

Sarah sat in a lawn chair in a circle of women, small children playing at their feet. A stray breeze sent a shower of cherry blossoms from the tree over their heads, and Anna’s small daughter laughed, reaching up to try to catch them.

Anna smiled, watching her, and smoothed her hand over the bump under her apron. “I hope she’ll be so happy when she has a new little brother or sister.”

“Never doubt that,” Sarah said. “Your little Grace has a loving heart to match her name.”

“She does,” Anna said softly. “There was a time when I couldn’t have believed we’d be as happy and settled as we are today.” Her gaze seemed instinctively to seek out Samuel, who was deep in conversation with Aaron as they crossed the yard from the paddock.

“It won’t be long until Sarah is putting a new boppli in your arms,” Molly said, cuddling little Jacob, who cooed up at her. “Then your happiness will be doubled.”

“Until they reach their teen years,” Leah said, smiling. “Our Matthew has always been so level-headed and serious, but these days it seems he’d forget his head if it were not securely attached.”

Soft laughter seemed to circle them, and Sarah looked at their warm, familiar faces with a surge of gratitude for the providence that had brought her to Pleasant Valley. She’d hoped for a new life when she came here, and God had made that life fuller than she could have imagined.

“Your turn to hold Rachel’s little son.” Leah leaned across to put the baby in her arms. “Of course you’ve already met him.”

“Ja, I have that.” She smiled, stroking the soft fuzz on the baby’s head. “He came out crying, and a better pair of lungs I’ve never heard. Rachel may have her hands full with this one.”

“At least my other three are big enough to help with their baby bruder.” Rachel’s gentle face curved in a smile. “And Gideon would gladly do everything but nurse him if he didn’t have to go to work.”

Women and babies . . . for a moment Sarah’s heart ached with the familiar longing to have a baby of her own. She felt a touch on her shoulder and knew it was Aaron even before she looked up at him.

“Are men banned from this circle?” he asked, glancing around.

“Not if you’re willing to talk about babies and child-raising,” Anna said, rising. “But I must bring out some snacks for the children, and I’m certain sure someone will be ready for another dessert.”

Murmuring something about helping, Leah followed her sister toward the house.

“I have driven them away,” Aaron said, smiling down at Sarah. “I didn’t mean to. So this is Rachel and Gideon’s little one.” He touched the small hand that was curved against Sarah’s dress. “He’s so tiny.”

“They grow so fast.” She stroked the baby’s soft hair. “He is actually bigger than Molly’s boppli was at this age.” Her voice choked unexpectedly with tears. “I wish . . .” she said softly.

“I know.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder, and his voice was low under the chatter of the others. “Whether we have a child of our own or not is in God’s hands, and we will accept that and love each other just as much.”

She put her hand over his, too moved to speak.

“Never forget that you already have babies, Sarah. You bring them into the world. How can they not be a part of you?”

The hurt seemed to smooth out of her heart as she held Aaron’s hand and looked down at the infant in her arms. Aaron was right. God had truly blessed her, and she must never forget that.

GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES

ach.
oh; used as an exclamation

agasinish.
stubborn; self-willed

ain’t so.
A phrase commonly used at the end of a sentence to invite agreement.

alter.
old man

anymore.
Used as a substitute for “nowadays.”

Ausbund.
Amish hymnal. Used in the worship services, it contains traditional hymns, words only, to be sung without accompaniment. Many of the hymns date from the sixteenth century.

befuddled.
mixed up

blabbermaul.
talkative one

blaid.
bashful

boppli.
baby

bruder.
brother

bu.
boy

buwe.
boys

daadi.
daddy

Da Herr sei mit du.
The Lord be with you.

denke.
thanks (or
danki
)

Englischer.
one who is not Plain

ferhoodled.
upset; distracted

ferleicht.
perhaps

frau.
wife

fress.
eat

gross.
big

grossdaadi.
grandfather

grossdaadi haus.
An addition to the farmhouse, built for the grandparents to live in once they’ve “retired” from actively running the farm.

grossmutter.
grandmother

gut.
good

hatt.
hard; difficult

haus.
house

hinnersich.
backward

ich.
I

ja.
yes

kapp.
Prayer covering, worn in obedience to the Biblical injunction that women should pray with their heads covered. Kapps are made of Swiss organdy and are white. (In some Amish communities, unmarried girls thirteen and older wear black kapps during worship service.)

kinder.
kids (or
kinner
)

komm.
come

komm schnell.
come quick

Leit.
the people; the Amish

lippy.
sassy

maidal.
old maid; spinster

mamm.
mother

middaagesse.
lunch

mind.
remember

onkel.
uncle

Ordnung.
The agreed-upon rules by which the Amish community lives. When new practices become an issue, they are discussed at length among the leadership. The decision for or against innovation is generally made on the basis of maintaining the home and family as separate from the world. For instance, a telephone might be necessary in a shop in order to conduct business but would be banned from the home because it would intrude on family time.

Pennsylvania Dutch.
The language is actually German in origin and is primarily a spoken language. Most Amish write in English, which results in many variations in spelling when the dialect is put into writing! The language probably originated in the south of Germany but is common also among the Swiss Mennonite and French Huguenot immigrants to Pennsylvania. The language was brought to America prior to the Revolution and is still in use today. High German is used for Scripture and church documents, while English is the language of commerce.

rumspringa.
Running-around time. The late teen years when Amish youth taste some aspects of the outside world before deciding to be baptized into the church.

schnickelfritz.
mischievous child

ser gut.
very good

tastes like more.
delicious

Was ist letz?
What’s the matter?

Wie bist du heit.
how are you; said in greeting

wilkom.
welcome

Wo bist du?
Where are you?

RECIPES

Grandma’s Noodles

1 whole egg
3 egg yolks
1 to 2 cups flour
3 cups chicken broth

Beat together the whole egg and yolks. Add flour until a stiff dough forms. Turn out onto a well-floured board and let rest for 15 minutes. Using flour as needed and a large breadboard, roll the dough out to a paper-thin sheet. Cover with tea towels and let dry for several hours. Cut the sheet of dough into quarters, then roll up each quarter and slice very thinly. Shake out the rounds of dough into noodles. Add to boiling chicken broth and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring to avoid sticking. Delicious served with fried chicken or over mashed potatoes. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Snickerdoodles

½ cup butter or margarine, softened
¾ cup sugar
1 egg
1½ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar, for rolling
2 teaspoons cinnamon, for rolling

Cream together butter or margarine and sugar. Add egg and beat until fluffy. In a separate bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, and salt. Blend into creamed mixture to make a stiff dough.

Mix the 2 tablespoons sugar and cinnamon together in a small bowl. Shape the dough into balls the size of walnuts. Roll cookie balls in the cinnamon sugar. Place on greased cookie sheet and flatten with a fork. Bake in a preheated oven at 400 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes or until very lightly browned. Remove to cooling rack, cool, and enjoy! Makes about 3 dozen small cookies.

Vegetable Beef Soup

1½ pounds chuck roast with bone
2 large onions, chopped
3 stalks celery, chopped
4 tablespoons salt
¼ cup barley
2 large carrots, diced
½ head of cabbage, chopped
1 cup potatoes, diced
1 turnip, chopped
1 parsnip, chopped
2 boxes frozen mixed vegetables
2 (32-ounce) cans whole or chopped tomatoes, undrained

Place meat, bone, onion, celery, and salt in large pot with two quarts water and boil for 4 hours. Remove the fat and bone. Add barley and cook for 1 hour longer. Add carrots and simmer for 30 minutes. Add cabbage, potatoes, turnip, and parsnip, and simmer another 30 minutes. Add frozen mixed vegetables and tomatoes and continue to simmer for 3 hours. Cool and skim off fat. Add more water as desired to thin the soup. Extra soup can be frozen or canned to preserve it. Makes about 6 quarts.

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed meeting the people of Pleasant Valley.
Sarah’s Gift
is the fourth book in my Pleasant Valley series, and I’ve loved the chance to revisit and see what’s been happening to the characters I’ve created. Although the place doesn’t actually exist, it seems very real to me, as it is based on the Amish settlements here in my area of central Pennsylvania.

Sarah Mast is, I hope, a tribute to all those who have suffered for their determination to give women the sort of birthing experience they want, and her aunt is modeled after the strong women of my own family, especially my dear grandmother Mattie Dovenberger.

I would love to hear your thoughts about my book. If you’d care to write to me, I’d be happy to reply with a signed bookmark or bookplate and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can find me on the Web at
www.martaperry.com
, e-mail me at marta@martaperry .com, or write to me in care of Berkley Publicity Department, Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

Blessings,
Marta Perry

An Excerpt from

KATIE’S WAY

Pleasant Valley
BOOK FIVE

by Marta Perry

Coming in November 2011 from Berkley Books

F
ast-paced
chatter in Pennsylvania Dutch, followed by a ripple of women’s laughter, floated through the archway from what used to be a hardware store. Caleb Brand forced himself to focus on the rocking chair he was waxing, trying to ignore the commotion.

He didn’t like change. This building, with its two connected shops, had been a male enclave for years. Now all that was different, because Bishop Mose had decided to rent the other side to Katie Miller for a quilt shop.

Caleb gritted his teeth and rubbed a little harder, trying to concentrate on the grain of the hickory. Rocking chairs were among his best sellers, and this one had turned out to his satisfaction. He’d never let anything leave his shop that he wouldn’t be happy to have in his own home.

Another peal of female laughter. How many women were over there anyway, helping to set up for the opening tomorrow? It sounded like half the sisters in the church district.

There was no reason why Katie Miller, newly komm to Pleasant Valley from Columbia County, shouldn’t open a quilt shop. He wished her well. Just not next door to him.

The bell on his own front door jingled, and he looked up. Bishop Mose, his white beard fluttering in the mild May breeze that swept down the main street of the village, ducked into the shop.

“Bishop Mose.” Caleb half rose, showing the man where he was behind the counter at the rear of the showroom.

“Ach, Caleb, I thought you’d be tucked away in your workshop at this hour.” The bishop, his years seeming to sit lightly on him, wound his way through the handmade wooden furniture that filled the room.

“Nobody’s here to help out today, so I have to mind the shop.” Caleb replaced the lid on the furniture wax, tapping it down tight. “Can I do something for you today?”

“Ach, no.” The bishop’s blue eyes, wise with a lifetime of service to the Amish of Pleasant Valley, crinkled a little. “Chust thought I should see for myself how you’re dealing with your new neighbor.”

Caleb glanced down at the rocker to avoid meeting the bishop’s gaze. “Fine. Everything’s fine, I think.”

Maybe he didn’t understand why Bishop Mose had seen fit to install a quilt shop next to him, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d never forget that when it seemed every person in the valley had turned against him, Bishop Mose had accepted his word.

It was eight years since then, and Caleb supposed folks still talked. But thanks to Bishop Mose, he had his place here.

In the brief silence between them, the sound of women’s voices came through clearly, talking about how best to display some quilts, it seemed.

“That’s gut,” Bishop Mose said. “I thought maybe it would be a bother to you, having a quilt shop next door instead of a hardware store.”

Caleb caressed a curved spindle of the rocker absently, the wood warm and smooth under his hand. Could he drop a hint in the bishop’s ear?

“Well, I did think a hardware store was a better fit with my shop.” He said the words as cautiously as if he were walking on eggs. “We shared more of the same customers, ain’t so?”

“You don’t think the folks who buy Katie’s quilts will be interested in your fine rocking chairs and chests?” Bishop Mose lifted white eyebrows.

Another burst of laughter scraped at Caleb’s nerves. “No. I don’t think a bunch of quilting women are likely to want what—”

He stopped, a little too late, he supposed. Katie Miller stood in the archway, and he didn’t doubt she’d heard him.

He cleared his throat, trying to think what to say, but she beat him to it.

“Ach, Bishop Mose, I thought I heard your voice.” The warm smile she directed toward the bishop probably didn’t include Caleb. “Would you like to see what we’ve done with the shop?”

“We would like nothing better.” He reached across the counter to clap Caleb’s shoulder. “Komm, Caleb. We’ll have a look at your new neighbor, ain’t so?”

Caleb hesitated, glancing at Katie. Her blue eyes were guarded, it seemed to him, and her strong jaw set. Katie Miller looked like a determined woman, one bent on doing things her way.

Which was maybe how she’d reached her midtwenties without marrying, unusual for an Amish woman. And at the moment, her way most likely didn’t include showing him her shop.

But in the next instant, her expression had melted into a smile. She smoothed back a strand of light brown hair under the white kapp on the back of her head and nodded. “Komm. I’d like fine to show you how the shop looks now.”

With the bishop’s hand on his shoulder, Caleb couldn’t very well pull away. He walked through the archway, feeling as if he were moving into a foreign land.

It looked that way, too. Harvey Schmidt’s barrels of nails and spools of wire were long gone, of course. The shop had been stripped down to the bare shelves during Harvey’s closing sale. But now—

The walls and shelves had been painted white, as had the counters. Against the white, every color possible glowed in bolts of fabric and spools of thread. It looked like a huge flower bed in full bloom.

And that was saying nothing of the quilts. Several quilts were draped on a four-poster maple bed that had been placed in the center of the space. Another quilt, in shades of blue and yellow and white, sagged between Molly, Katie’s cousin—and the reason Katie had come to the valley in the first place—and Sarah Mast, Pleasant Valley’s midwife. Both were up on chairs, obviously trying to hang the quilt from a rod that Harvey had used to support coils of rope.

“That looks like a dangerous thing to be doing.” Bishop Mose was quick to steady the chair on which Molly teetered. “Especially for a new mammi.”

Dimples appeared in Molly’s cheeks. “Ach, you sound just like my Jacob. Anyone would think I was made of glass, to hear him. After all, our little boy is nearly three months old now.”

“Ja, well, komm down anyway,” Katie said, and went quickly to grasp the quilt from them. “This I’ll put on top of the quilts on the bed, so that I can turn each one back when someone wants to see them. I have some quilted table runners that can hang from the rod instead.”

Molly and Sarah climbed down, looking a little relieved, Caleb thought.

“We’ll take care of it. You have guests to show around,” Sarah said.

Katie surrendered the quilt to Sarah and spread her arms wide in a gesture that took in the whole of the small shop. “Here it is, as you can see.” Another smile blossomed on her face, touching her eyes and bringing a glow to her cheeks.

Happiness. Hope. They radiated from Katie like heat from a stove. Caleb couldn’t help but be touched.

But that didn’t change anything, he reminded himself. Having the woman’s business right next door was going to be a nuisance, at the very least.

And if she’d heard what folks said about him, he could only wonder why she’d want to be here at all.