The Thorn (33 page)

"I like Rosie." Beth looked right at her and smiled. "Me and Rosie are friends," she chanted happily.

"I wish you could come over and see our new foals sometime," Rose ventured, glancing at Mr. Browning to see how he'd react. Too late she realized she should've talked to him first before bringing it up to Beth out of the blue.

"Foal ... that's a baby horse, isn't it?" Beth turned to her father. "Would you let me, Daddy - please?"

Her father glanced from Beth to Rose and back again. "I ... don't think it's wise."

"Rose would look after me, wouldn't you, Rosie?" It appeared that Beth had latched on to the idea.

"I'm sure she would." Mr. Browning spooned sugar into his coffee. "But let's not rush this."

This, meaning Beth's social life, thought Rose. She had planted a seed and watered it, and poor, thirsty Beth had more than responded. Now it was up to Gilbert Browning to decide whether or not to shine sunlight on his daughter and allow Beth to blossom.

The assembly line for the applesauce-making frolic was in place by eight-thirty Saturday morning. Rose and Mattie Sue worked together to remove the stems, while Dat and Dawdi Jeremiah rinsed the bushels of apples, and Barbara Petersheim and her daughter Verna cut them in quarters. Aunt Malinda and Mamm removed the seeds, preparing them for the Victoria strainer.

Throughout the long process, Nick and Christian alternated turning the handle of the strainer as the other carried away the apple skins. Rarely were they in the same proximity at the same time. Will their feuding ever cease? Rose wondered. Christian's mouth had been in a sharp line all morning.

"I'm having so much fun!" announced Mattie Sue, looking up at Rose with her bright eyes and long lashes.

She realized then that her young niece would have missed out on this family tradition if Hen hadn't returned home when she did. With all of her heart, Rose hoped the delicious meal Hen had planned for tonight might set the right mood for Brandon's visit.

Rose had her own reason to look forward to this evening, since she and Silas would be riding under the stars. Still, she wouldn't fail to send up silent prayers for Hen and Brandon, trusting that their love might be saved. Somehow!

After a time, Dat and Dawdi got the canners going on the woodstove as the womenfolk chattered like magpies about the upcoming canning bee. It did Rose Ann's heart good to see her sister fitting in so well. Goodness, but Hen could already make hearty breakfasts that rivaled Mammi Sylvia's, and she'd only been back home less than a week.

"I'm gonna eat applesauce at dinner ... and for breakfast tomorrow, too!" said Mattie Sue, who was getting quick at twisting off apple stems.

"You can do like your mother always did when she was growing up," said Rose.

"Put whipped cream on top?" asked Mattie.

"Well now, how'd you know that?"

"Mommy always does."

"With cinnamon sprinkled on first?" asked Rose.

Mattie Sue nodded her cute little head. "Mommy taught Daddy to eat it that way, too." Her lower lip trembled just then.

Rose thought it best to change the subject. Leaving home was surely the most harrowing thing poor, dear Mattie had ever experienced - drastically changing her way of life.

By the time they were finished, Mamm reported that they had canned over a hundred quarts of the applesauce. Barbara's face fairly glowed; she'd gotten her wish to make a light-colored sauce.

When the many jars were out cooling on the summer porch, Rose Ann followed Hen back to her Dawdi Haus and sat with Mattie Sue to reread the picture books aloud to her for at least the fourth time.

Remembering Brandon's stipulation that dinner be just the three of them, Hen sent Mattie Sue out to the back porch to watch for him at a quarter to five o'clock. Mattie carried Foofie with her, talking to her stuffed animal while she waited.

Mattie looked like an Amish girl, her hair parted evenly down the middle and swept back into the bob. She hadn't wanted to wear the little white Kapp so she could show her daddy how "big Amish girls" twist their hair on the sides.

Hen had never felt so nervous about serving a meal to her husband and daughter. It was as if the years at their house in town had faded into oblivion. This night had to count toward getting Brandon interested in the Plain community. My people. Their life together depended on it.

So with the bishop's words of admonition still echoing in her mind, Hen stood at the door as Brandon's car pulled into the lane and Mattie ran out to greet him.

When he opened the car door, Hen saw that he was dressed in one of her favorite casual sweaters and dress slacks. Her heart did a flip as she opened the screen door to welcome him. "Hi, Brandon." Her voice sounded tense even to her.

"Hello, Hen." He leaned down to kiss her cheek before stepping inside the house, still holding Mattie's hand.

"I helped Mommy set the table," Mattie Sue announced, showing him where to sit.

Brandon cocked his head slightly and smiled down at her. "Thanks."

"Can you say `Denki'? That's Amish for `thank you,' " Mattie Sue told him in a singsongy voice.

Hen flinched. "Mattie Sue ... please wash your hands."

Without blinking an eye or whining whatsoever, Mattie hurried to the rustic washroom around the corner.

"Impressive," Brandon remarked. "She's been in obedience training, what ... less than six days now?"

Hen felt the color rush to her face. Her expectation of immediate obedience had been one of the many disagreements they'd had over rearing their daughter. Brandon was much more lenient, and his brusque comment wasn't a good sign. There was no sense in taking the bait.

Trying to remain unflustered, Hen lifted the thick steak out of the large black skillet and spooned the gravy on top. Mattie Sue appeared again just as Hen dished up Brandon's favorite scalloped potatoes, then another one of his favorites - baked beans with bacon, onions, dark brown sugar, ketchup, mustard, and molasses.

"Looks like you outdid yourself." All of a sudden his smile seemed genuine.

She and Mattie Sue sat down, and as Brandon picked up his fork to dig in, Hen bowed her head and Mattie Sue folded her hands in prayer. Together, they offered the silent prayer, just as her own father was doing undoubtedly at this moment in the main house. Josh and Kate and their family, along with the bishop and Barbara, were gathering there for a small celebration following the applesauce frolic. Mattie Sue's eyes were still closed when Hen raised her head and said amen.

"Hungry?" Brandon asked Mattie when her eyes flew open. A big smile followed.

"We say two blessings at the meal now, Daddy. One right before we eat and one afterward."

Hen noticed Brandon's controlled smirk. They ate for a time without anyone speaking, and Hen breathed another silent prayer for God's blessing on their time together.

"After we finish eating," Brandon told Mattie Sue, "I have something to show you."

Her eyes literally sparkled at him across the table. "What is it?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

"Where is it?" Mattie Sue pressed.

"Outside ... in the car."

"Why didn't you bring it in?"

Hen intervened. "Mattie Sue.. ."

Brandon shook his head. "It's okay. Let her play along."

Backing down, Hen let him have the upper hand.

"Give me a little hint, okay, Daddy?"

Brandon shook his head. "After you're done with your meal, I'll take you out to see it."

Hen cut into her steak, pleased with its tenderness. She'd marinated the meat since early morning.

"What did you do today, Mattie?"

"I twisted the stems off lots of apples," answered Mattie Sue, her mouth still full.

"Wait to talk until you're finished chewing, honey," Hen prompted her.

Brandon ignored the comment. "You weren't making candy apples, were you?"

"Applesauce, Daddy!"

He was laughing now, and the sound of it made Hen ache for the happier times. Can we ever get those days back, dear Lord?

When Hen offered seconds to her husband, he took a smaller portion of meat this time but passed on the side dishes, saying he was watching his weight. "I know - this is new, right?" He smiled fleetingly.

"Amish don't exactly count calories," she replied.

"What's a calorie?" Mattie Sue pushed back her plate.

"You'll know soon enough." Brandon reached for his glass of root beer. "This is delicious." He stared at the glass.

Mattie Sue piped up. "Mommy made it ... just like at home."

"Honey ..." said Hen.

"It's all right," Brandon said. "Guess I never really noticed it before. Overworking can do that."

The meal was topped off with Mattie Sue's choice: applesauce with cinnamon and a dollop of whipped cream. "See? We made more applesauce than I've ever seen in my whole life." Mattie Sue giggled.

When they'd eaten their fill, Brandon pushed back from the table and thanked Hen for the terrific meal. Then he turned to Mattie Sue. "Are you ready for the big surprise?"

Hen had no idea what her husband was up to. She stood at the window and watched as Brandon took Mattie to the car and opened the door on the passenger's side. He reached into the front seat and brought out a small pet carrier. "Goodness, he must've bought a puppy," she whispered, moving to the back door. Unbelievable!

Mattie Sue put her hands inside the carrier and lifted out an adorable cinnamon-colored cocker spaniel puppy. Hen heard her squeal, then rush back to the door, excited to show off her new dog.

Brandon followed closely behind, his face beaming with the pleasure his gift had brought their daughter. "What would you like to name her?" He squatted down to Mattie's eye level.

Mattie's eyes glowed with delight. "I can name her? I really can?" She slipped one arm around Brandon's neck, still holding the beautiful purebred puppy.

For the next full hour, Mattie and newly named Wiggles were inseparable. She showed Brandon her picture books and asked him to read one, all the while cuddling the irresistible dog, who slept in her lap.

Hen sat across from them, glad she'd brought in this particular gas lamp before Brandon's arrival because it looked similar to an electric lamp. She didn't want the lack of electricity to be a point of discussion for his first visit. She eyed the book on marriage, lying on the table near where Brandon and Mattie sat.

A knock sounded at the door, and Hen rose to open it.

"Hullo there," her dad said, coming in. "Saw a car parked over here and wondered if it was Brandon, just maybe."

"Dawdi, lookee here," Mattie Sue said, jumping up and showing off Wiggles.

Hen stood quietly, her hands folded, hoping her husband would be courteous about this impromptu visit. She held her breath when Brandon got up, still holding the picture book, and went to shake hands with her father.

"Nice to see ya," her dad said. "Come anytime."

"Thanks," Brandon said and looked down at Mattie Sue with Wiggles. "Guess you've got yourself a grandpup." Brandon chuckled at his own joke.

"You wanna hold her, Grandpa?" asked Mattie Sue, holding up the puppy.

"Sure do!" Dad squatted down and took the puppy from Mattie, putting her up on his shoulder like a newborn babe.

Brandon cast a sideways glance at Hen, as though he assumed she'd put her father up to this visit. Hen was helpless to say or do anything - in spite of Brandon's request, she refused to rudely send her dad on his way. She tried to walk the fence for both men, knowing her husband was offended that she appeared not to have kept her word.

Later, when Mattie Sue went outside with her father, still carrying Wiggles, Hen told Brandon she hadn't known her dad was going to drop by.

He shrugged. "Well, what can you do? You live all clumped up together here ... like a commune or something."

She wanted to defend that but caught herself and said nothing. Changing the subject, she said, "Mattie Sue's responsible for her own chores - indoor and outdoor," she said, making small talk.

"Sounds like child labor."

"Brandon, please." She reached to touch his arm. Why was he so belligerent tonight?

"Do you really think this is the best place for our daughter?"