Amish Circle Letters II: The Second Circle of Letters (17 page)

She felt butterflies in her stomach as she heard his words. Different was not exactly the word she wanted to hear. Different was used to describe something that was quirky, unusual, or strange. Yet, in this case, she could tell by his expression, the way that he stared into her face, that different was meant as something good.

“There is something about you,” he continued, staring into her chocolate brown eyes. “You saved me. You saved my family. And you took a big chance. I find that most admirable, Mary Ruth. I can only hope to prove myself worthy of what you have sacrificed.”

Sacrificed? She hated that word. It was no sacrifice to be married to Menno Yoder, that was for sure and certain. The more time she spent with him, as his wife and once again as his friend, the more she realized that God had plans for everyone. His plan intended for her to be with this man. Her man.

“
Nee
, Menno, I’ve sacrificed nothing,” she said softly. “You are a right
gut
man. You know how I feel about you and the
kinner
. You have nothing to prove, anymore.”

He lifted his hand to her cheek and gently stroked her skin as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. She felt safe and protected in his arms, a comforting feeling, yet one that made her pulse quicken. His attention was flattering and he made her feel loved. Truly loved by a man that filled her heart with so much joy and happiness that she often felt as though she could weep. Tears of joy.

Ja
, she thought. God’s plan was for her to love this man, this
gut
man that stood before her and she intended to do just that for the rest of her life.

Melvin sat behind his desk, his head in his hand and his eyes focused on the window, not his schoolwork. Teacher was helping the younger students with their spelling and he was supposed to be reading his book. But his mind was wandering as he could think of nothing else than of the horrible fire that could have consumed the bright light of the family: His new
mamm
Mary Ruth.

It was his own insolence that had caused it. He had wanted to go sleigh riding and when his new
mamm
told him to do chores instead, he had become sassy and impertinent. She had told him to pick up the pitchfork and asked him to
outten
the lanterns. But he hadn’t. The fact that his actions could have killed her, could have caused the family even more grief after they experienced so much pain already, broke his heart and hardened his soul.

And every time he saw Mary Ruth, he was reminded of it.

In a way, it had been better when she had been staying at her parents’ farm to recover for there had been no constant reminder. But now that she was back, he remembered. Oh how he remembered! And each day, as he trudged through the cold to the Miller’s farm next door, he reminded himself of what he had done.

Yet, no one else seemed to know. In fact, the rest of the family seemed to be moving in a new direction, a direction that Melvin didn
’t understand and couldn’t seem to follow. There was a new peace to the house, a stronger bond between his
daed
and Mary Ruth. He could see it in how his
daed
looked at her when he thought no one was watching. He could hear it in how they spoke to each other, with soft voices and hints of smiles.

Something had happened and Melvin didn
’t understand what it was.

“Melvin Yoder!”

He snapped his attention, directing it to the front of the classroom.

“Are you day dreaming again?”

He flushed at the public rebuke, too aware that the other students were staring at him and even more aware that his sisters would certainly report back to their
daed
that Melvin had gotten in trouble at school.

“Stay focused,” Teacher said with a stern look. She was a young woman, only eighteen. But she was strict with the students and, even worse, quite familiar with his family. All Melvin needed was for his
daed
to be summoned for a meeting with Teacher. It was bad enough that Suzanna would probably tell
Daed
at home that night.

Miserably, he sank into his chair and returned his attention to the book on his desk. His eyes saw the words but he comprehended nothing. Despite the reprimand, his mind still wandered back to his problems and to the terrible secret that he harbored within himself.

“Late supper tonight. Milking at four.”

Mimi looked up from where she was organizing the cabinets. They had stopped at another store on the way home, in order to purchase some new cookware. She had spent the rest of the afternoon putting things away, making the kitchen
hers
. She had planned a nice supper for five o’clock but had forgotten that since he had milked at six in the morning, the next milking was ten hours later: four o’clock.

“I can help,” she offered.

He studied her for a moment before he nodded his head. “That would be helpful, I reckon” he finally replied. “Makes it easier on me.”

It was a strange relationship between Steve and his tenant. Both had their own herds of cows but the tenant followed the standard twelve hour milking cycle which meant that Steve was rarely in the dairy with the tenant. Steve
’s herd was larger than Daniel’s for his main income came from working at a shed building business, down the road. Yet, his dream was to be able to save enough money to, someday, buy his own farm and work it full time. In the spring and summer, Daniel planted smaller crops to supplement his income and to keep the fields in working order.

Mimi spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the supper meal in order to have it ready for when they finished milking. With a four o
’clock milking, the next one would be at two in the morning. Certainly Steve would retire to bed right after eating in order to be well rested for the early-morning milking. And he had told her that he intended to spread manure in the fields afterwards. It was going to be a busy day, indeed.

The four o
’clock milking was one of two when Daniel was also in the dairy, tending to his own, smaller herd. The tall, willowy man nodded a greeting at Steve and Mimi. His older two sons were with him, helping with the chores. Since Daniel was one of twelve children, it had been impossible for him to save enough money to purchase his own farm for his family for when he would get married. He had resorted to carpentry work for a living but longed to buy his own farm. Unfortunately, in Lancaster County, farmland was becoming available infrequently and cost dear. Only the wealthier families were able to help establish their children on their own farms and, for that reason, many families merely added onto their farms for their children to live and work together.

Steve had been one of the lucky ones. When the farm across the way had become available, the family deciding to downsize when the last of their children married and were established on their own farms, Steve had been able to jump at the chance. It was a quick sale and for cash and back when he had just turned twenty-four. For the past ten years, he had rented the main house and helped both his
daed
as well as Daniel with the farming and dairy. Steve knew that, today, he’d never be able to purchase the very farm where he and Mimi now lived. The cost of land had increased tremendously since he originally purchased it ten years ago, a fact that now proved quite providential.

Mimi
’s father came from a long line of farmers. However, he had not been one of the fortunate ones to continue farming. After all, land was sparse and cost dearly. Instead, he had started the store where he sold hardware and supplies to the other Amish families in the area. It had started off as a small business endeavor, operating out of his parents’ farm until he had enough money to buy the house where he now resided with his wife. They had converted one of the outbuildings into the hardware store and, over the years, expanded it.

Mimi had grown up knowing life as a shopkeeper, not a farm girl. She was amazed at how hard Steve worked, at the hours he kept and did her best to keep up with him. But her patience wore thin with one of the feisty cows that refused to stand still. She muttered under her breath and sighed when the cow, once again, knocked over her stool.

“Steve?” she called out. “
Mayhaps
you could help me with that one?”

“Giving you trouble, then?”

She took a step back and watched as Steve talked calmly to the cow, his hand on her rump as he attached the milking machine to the cow’s udders. With his soothing voice and gentle mannerism, the cow calmed down right away and, soon, milk was flowing.

“
Danke
,” she said, hiding the disappointment in her voice for having needed his assistance, rather than being able to do it herself. She wanted to help Steve, not be a burden to him.

It was slightly after six when they had finished the milking and returned to the house. The sky was dark already and the air cold. Mimi had already set the table and, after washing her hands, she quickly set the food onto the table: bread, cold cuts, applesauce, and boiled potatoes. Steve bowed his head for the silent blessing over the meal and Mimi followed his example. When he cleared his throat, they both looked up and began reaching for the food.

“I see you finally managed to get that dough to rise,” he said as he chewed on a piece of fresh bread. “Ummm, that’s
right gut
, Mimi!”

She nodded, pleased that she had finally done something properly. “You were right about the yeast,” she admitted, watching as he reached for another piece of bread.

“Best to keep it in the freezer, then” he added. “That’s what
Mamm
always used to say.”

They ate in silence. Mimi glanced at him from time to time, concerned by how quiet he remained throughout the meal. But one quick look at his eyes and she reckoned that he was exhausted. And tomorrow would be a long day indeed, with three milkings: one in the morning, one at noon, and the last one at ten at night. With Steve also planning to spread manure, she knew that he would need his sleep. His ten-hour milking schedule created a five-day cycle of milking that was quite difficult for her to follow. However, she was beginning to see why it had been so hard for him to visit with her frequently and certainly not overnight after they had married.

“You best go rest up,” she said when the meal was over.

He nodded his head. “
Ja
, I’m tired. Might just go do that.”

She watched as he pushed back from the table and walked across the kitchen to the back bedroom. His shoulders were hunched over. It was not quite seven-thirty and he was half asleep before he even shut the bedroom door. Cleaning up the dishes was easy for it was just the two of them and supper was always a lighter meal than the dinner hour, earlier in the afternoon. Indeed, she wasn
’t quite tired when she was finished.

She stood in the middle of the kitchen and sighed. It just didn
’t feel quite like home yet. She knew that it would take time, time to adjust to a new schedule; time to adjust to a new life style. Still, she wished that she felt more at ease and comfortable with the changes that she was facing.

For the next hour, Mimi sat on the sofa and worked on piecing together a nine-patch baby quilt that she was making for one of her friends who was expecting her second baby in just a few weeks. She had started the quilt just before the wedding, hoping that it would keep her mind occupied. She had hoped to have  it finished by now but she had been too distracted over the past few weeks.

It was almost nine when she finally decided to retire to bed. Steve was already snoring, one arm tossed over his head. She smiled as she changed into her nightgown and, before blowing out the lantern, crawled into bed beside him. It took her a while to fall asleep, the bed feeling harder than the one she was used to sleeping on. Plus the house sounded different, with windows that rattled in the night wind and cows making noises from the nearby dairy. Yet, eventually, her eyes grew weary and her breathing slowed. Sleep finally overtook over her.

And then she felt him move. The bed creaked and a soft glow flickered from a match that she heard her husband strike against a strike pad on the wall by the door.

“What’s wrong?” she mumbled sleepily, trying to sit up and make sense of why Steve was awake.

“Time for milking,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Milking? It was the middle of the night! “What time is it?”

“
Two.”

“
Two?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Two in the morning? Who milked cows at two in the morning?

“
Ja
, two. Today is the two, twelve, and ten o’clock milkings.”

She sat up in the bed in slight dismay, covering her mouth as she yawned. Shadows danced across the room as Steve moved about, reaching for his pants and slipping them on, one leg at a time, before he sat on the edge of the bed. He coughed twice, clearing his throat as he started to pull on his boots.