Huckleberry Harvest (18 page)

“Perhaps he was going for tallest to shortest.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Nae. Luke is six-foot-two.” Mammi leafed through her seven pages of notes. “I liked John Shirk’s answer about the Confession of Faith, but Melvin Lambright seems to the know the Bible better yet. LaWayne has had his appendix out. I wonder if that’s something you’ll wish he had later in life.” She laid her clipboard and pencil beside her. Eagerness was written all over her face. “Well, what do you think, Mandy? You’ve seen some very promising prospects today. Very promising.”

Mandy didn’t want to be mean. She really didn’t. One word from her would dash all of Mammi’s hopes, but she didn’t have the slightest interest in one of those boys. As much as she hated to disappoint Mammi, she felt she needed to be truthful. “I’m sorry, Mammi. I know I told Davy I’d try to find his litter of kittens a new home and I promised to help Luke Miller’s sister with her piecrust, but I really don’t want any of these boys for a husband. I’m here to visit you and Dawdi and Kristina. Dating a boy is not in my plan.”

The corners of Mammi’s lips drooped, but she didn’t lose the sparkle in her eyes. Mandy had forgotten the most important thing. Mammi never gave up hope.

“You’re going to the gathering with Adam on Friday. And there’s a couple of boys from Cashton we haven’t spoken with yet. There’s still time.”

Mandy didn’t even let her shoulders sag. “I’ll only be here for two more weeks.”

“Three weeks, dear. You know I’ve got my heart set on five weeks.”

“We’ll see, Mammi. We’ll see.”

The door creaked open, and Titus stuck his head into the barn. He looked like a ragamuffin, with smudges of dirt on his face and shirt. “How did it go?”

“Wonderful gute,” Mammi said, putting her arm around Mandy and pulling her close. “We’ve had so much fun.”

Mandy felt obligated to agree for Mammi’s sake. “Jah, they lifted a lot of hay.”

Titus shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and walked farther into the barn. His trousers were covered with dust. “Is there any lemonade left?”

Mandy shot to her feet, ready to put this traumatic and unpleasant experience behind her. “Plenty. I’ll get you a cupful.”

“What have you been up to, Titus?” Mammi asked. “You look as if you’ve been through an avalanche.”

Noah marched into the barn, looking as filthy as someone would be expected to look after working on the roof all morning. Mandy could see where beads of sweat had made tracks through the dirt down his face.

For some reason, she could tell he was trying to avoid looking at her. She didn’t like his avoidance at all.

Noah took Mammi’s hand and helped her from the hay bale. “How did it go? Did you find a husband for Mandy?”

A playful grin should have accompanied that question, but he seemed way too serious. Maybe scraping off shingles had worn him out.

Mammi patted Noah on the arm. “You are very kind to be so concerned. I’m getting a little concerned myself, but Mandy says she’s not interested. Not even in Luke Miller. Nine toes just isn’t exciting enough.”

Noah nodded thoughtfully, but Mandy thought she might have seen his lip twitch upward. “Mandy has an exciting life. Maybe Bonduel is too small a town to find what she’s looking for.”

“Who else can I try, Noah? I’m at my wit’s end.”

“How is the roof coming?” Mandy blurted out. She’d die of embarrassment if she had to stand there and listen to Noah and Mammi discuss her prospects.

Noah finally looked at her. His smile was so bright, she could have counted all his nice, straight, white teeth. Did a smile really have the power to knock a girl off her feet? “The shingles are off.”

“All of them? So fast?” Mandy said. How had he managed?

“It was Titus’s idea,” Noah said.

“It wasn’t really my idea,” Titus said, removing the toothpick from his lips. “They was getting bored out there, so we decided as a group to help Noah strip the roof. It seemed kind of silly for everybody to be standing around on the ground while Noah was up there slaving away. We used the pitchforks plus three hoes. Some of us scraped shingles while others picked them up and dumped them in the wagon.”

Noah swiped his forearm across his brow. “Then they helped me get the felt underlayment laid down so there won’t be any leaks if it rains before all the shingles are laid.”

“Noah’s got a wonderful-gute stapler with a hammer tacker. It didn’t take any time at all to tack everything down.”

“Titus,” Mammi said, planting a kiss on his grimy cheek, “you’re a gute boy.”

Titus blushed and wriggled away from Mammi as best he could. “Now, Mammi, don’t get mushy. I’m a grown man.”

Mammi nodded. “I know, dear. Even if you are a little shaky with your ABC’s.”

Noah rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to stifle a smile. “There’s nobody better with a shingle fork.”

“Besides you,” Titus said.

“Once we finished with the felt paper, nobody knew if they should stick around to hear if they got the job,” Noah said. “I hope it was okay. I sent them all home.”

“Just as well,” Mammi said. “Mandy won’t have any of them.”

Noah’s gaze lingered on Mandy’s face even as he spoke to Mammi. “Everybody’s gone now, except for Freeman. He’s playing with Chester and Sparky.” He pulled his work gloves from his back pocket. “Adam says you need some hay moved.”

Mandy glanced behind her at the substantial stack of hay bales sitting against the wall. “Nae. We weren’t—”

“Should I heft it into the haymow, Anna?”

Mammi thought for a minute. “I suppose that’s where Felty would like it. We had it delivered on Wednesday, and we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Titus, can you help?” Noah said, gazing upward at the haymow. He lifted a bale by the twine.

“I’m not very good at lifting,” Titus said.

Waiting for Titus, Noah swung the bale back and forth like the pendulum on the grandfather clock. “Climb up, and I’ll throw them to you.”

Titus tossed his toothpick on the ground and climbed the ladder. Muscles she didn’t know Noah possessed looked to be carved into his arms as he lifted the hay bale over his head and tossed it.

She averted her eyes and bent over the lemonade jug as if doing something supremely important with the lid, willing her heart to stop fluttering like a meadow full of butterflies.

With his arms over his head like that, the bale had about two feet to travel upward. It landed on the floor of the loft, where Titus grabbed it and stacked it in the corner of the haymow. Noah wasted no time. Mandy tried to move out of his way as he hefted another bale and threw it to Titus. At this rate, he’d have the stack moved in a matter of minutes.

Mammi picked up her clipboard and pencil. “Denki, Noah. Felty will be so pleased the hay is put away.”

Breathing heavily, Noah tossed another bale and then glanced at Mammi. “I’ll carry the jug back into the house when I’m done here.”

“No need,” Mammi said, lifting the jug with one hand. “It’s all gone.”

Ach
. They hadn’t saved any for Noah, and Dawdi had reminded her twice. Yet again, Mandy wanted to kick herself.

Mammi shuffled to the door of the barn. “Noah got the roof stripped, and we can now cross several boys off our list. It’s been a very productive morning.”

Mandy watched Mammi leave with the empty jug. “I’m sorry we didn’t save you any lemonade, Noah. You’re the most deserving one.”

“What about me?” Titus called. “It wasn’t easy organizing everybody into typographical order.”

Noah stopped throwing bales with all those muscles of his and curled his lips into a very attractive smile. “It’s all right. I’m glad there was enough for your future husband, whoever he may be.”

Mandy groaned. “Believe me, my future husband did not drink lemonade today.”

Noah chuckled. “I hope he’s not thirsty.”

His eyes were such a warm shade of brown, Mandy thought she could very well get lost in them. But really, she needed to tear her gaze from his and go into the house and . . . what was it she needed to do?

Noah kept up his steady pace with the hay bales. Did he ever tire?

She should march out of the barn and away from the sight of Noah’s chiseled arms and milk-chocolate brown eyes and go help Mammi do . . . something. Certainly Mammi needed help with something.

Instead, she leaned against the wall of the barn and watched Noah toss every last bale of hay.

The something, whatever it was, could wait.

Mandy parked Dawdi’s buggy in front of Noah’s house, grabbed her heavy canvas bag, and trudged across the sparse grass. Chester lay in his usual spot on the porch, looking very much asleep until Mandy passed him. He opened his eyes and greeted her with a friendly yip. Being the most obedient dog in the world, Chester never barked at inappropriate times or too loudly.

The bag banged against her hip as she climbed the stairs. The jar inside was heavy, but she had wanted to make sure she brought plenty. If Noah was sick, it might cheer him up.

On Saturday afternoon, Noah, with his nail gun, had gotten a good start on the shingles on the north side of the roof and promised to return first thing Monday morning. But Noah hadn’t shown up this morning, and Mandy had started to worry. If Noah was sick in bed, he’d need someone to nurse him back to health. The poor boy didn’t have a mamm or a wife to tend to him, and Mandy was certain that his dat couldn’t be much help. Mandy would have to be the one. Helping other people with their problems was what she did best.

Like Kristina said, Mandy liked to fix things.

She heard the sound of an air compressor coming from behind the house. Probably from Noah’s dat’s woodshop, which was a dilapidated old shack east of Noah’s equally dilapidated house. Lord willing, Noah’s dat was having a gute morning. Or maybe it was Noah in the woodshop, finishing up some last-minute project before coming to Huckleberry Hill to work on the roof.

After climbing the stair, she plunked her bag down on the porch. It was too heavy to hold any longer. When she knocked on the door, Chester rose to his feet and stood by her, as if planning on paying a call to his own house.

“Who is it?” she heard Noah call from the other side of the door.

“It’s Mandy.”

Noah didn’t reply. Hadn’t he heard her?

She put her mouth close to the crack and raised her voice. “We got worried when you didn’t come this morning. I told Dawdi I’d check to make sure you’re okay. Are you sick?”

“Mandy.” He paused for what seemed like a full minute. “Today’s not a gute day. Will you tell your dawdi I’m sorry? I’ll be by on Wednesday.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly. At least that’s what she thought he said. His voice had sunk very low.

She tapped lightly. “Noah, I can’t hear you. Open the door so we can have a proper conversation like two normal people.”

“I’ll come on Wednesday. Tell your dawdi.”

He was definitely sick and obviously didn’t want her help. He was so touchy about letting her do things for him. Wasn’t he always telling her to stay out of his life?

Well, she wasn’t about to let him get away with that. He needed her help, and she’d insist he take it, like it or not.

But first she must convince him to open the door. “I’ve got something really heavy out here I need you to carry for me.” No response from the other side. “Please? You’ll feel horrible if I rupture a blood vessel in my neck.”

There was still no sound of movement from the other side, and Mandy feared he’d fallen asleep, being as sick as he was and all.

“Noah?”

Just as she was about to throw up her hands and storm off the porch, the doorknob turned, and Noah slowly opened the door. He wore his straw hat pulled low over his eyes, as if the light would blind him if it landed on his face.

She folded her arms. “You are the most stubborn . . .”

He lifted his head to look at her.

“Oh,” she gasped, before promptly clamping her mouth shut. She was really wishing for that third leg now. Yet again, she wanted to kick herself. First the lip and now this. Her heart sank all the way to her toes.

Mandy didn’t think she’d ever seen a ghastlier bruise. Splotches of midnight purple and grayish black surrounded Noah’s left eye. He looked as if he were wearing an eye patch.

He met her eye and then turned his face away. “Satisfied?”

“Oh, Noah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“But you won’t just go away when I ask you to go away.”

She felt horrible. Once again, her persistence had made things worse. “I thought you were sick.”

He wouldn’t look at her as he raised his chin. “I’m not sick. You can go now.”

“Have you put anything on it?”

He started to close the door. “I’ll come to your dawdi’s on Wednesday.”

“If you think that bruise is going to disappear by Wednesday, you are gravely mistaken.”

He gazed at her resentfully. “Then I’ll wait until next Monday.”

“And lose a week’s worth of wages? Besides, those tarps aren’t going to see us through a downpour. Do you want that on your conscience?”

He rubbed his hand down the side of his face. “What do you want, Mandy?”

“That is the stupidest question I’ve ever heard, Noah Mischler.”

Her reprimand took him by surprise. He raised his eyebrows.

“I want to help you, of course,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because that black eye is probably even more sore than it looks, and I know how to get the swelling down as quick as you please.” She stared at him, hoping by sheer willpower to get him to relent. She couldn’t bear to go away without tending to that eye.

He exhaled slowly and took off his hat. “Why not? I’m already as humiliated as I can be.”

Trying not to show how glad she was that she’d gotten her way, she marched past him into the kitchen and pushed up her sleeves. “There’s no humiliation in having a black eye.”

His jaw tightened. “Jah, there is.”

That look of shame and despair in his eyes made her want to weep, and she promised herself she’d try to make things better for him. But he must never see how upset she was because of the black eye. He’d think she was making judgments about his dat, when in truth, she was only sorry for Noah’s pain.

She propped her hands on her hips and adopted her best matter-of-fact tone. “Do you have any potatoes?”

“Um, okay. In the cupboard down to your left.”

Chester ambled into the house and planted himself next to Noah, leaving Mandy’s bag sitting by itself on the porch. Noah narrowed his eyes. “Is this the heavy thing you were talking about?”

“Jah.”

“So you tricked me into opening the door.”

She smiled weakly. “I didn’t want to wait on the porch all morning.”

“You could have gone home.”

She lifted her chin and arched an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have done that.”

He smirked. “I didn’t really think you would.”

“Besides,” she said, “I didn’t trick you. That bag really is heavy. Pick it up if you don’t believe me.”

Noah stepped outside. A look of surprise traveled across his face when he lifted the canvas bag. “You weren’t lying,” he said, bringing it into the house and setting it on the table. “But you were exaggerating.”

“How else was I going to get you to open the door? I knew you wouldn’t want to disappoint your mamm by leaving a poor girl to fend for herself.”

The hard line of his mouth softened a bit. “What’s in here?”

Mandy pulled a small sack of potatoes from the cupboard and set it on the counter. “I brought you a present.”

“Why?”

“Never question why someone gives you a present. Just take it and be grateful.” She pulled the gallon bottle full of lemonade from her bag. “You didn’t get any on Saturday.”

He cracked a smile. “Too much competition.”

“And you put away our hay. If anybody deserved a glass of lemonade, it was you.” She reached back into the bag and pulled out two strands of knitted yarn and a plastic bag full of marshmallows. She handed him the yarn. “These are knitted napkins rings. Get-well presents from Mammi. She says when all the fuss has died down, she’ll make you your own pot holders.”

Noah fingered the soft maroon yarn. “I am honored. I know only very special young men get pot holders.”

She cleared her throat and willed herself not to blush. “Jah. Well, of course. You are very special to Mammi.”

“Denki.”

She showed him the bag of marshmallows. “I didn’t have time to bake anything, so I grabbed these on the way out. We can roast them at your stove.”

“And start a fire?”

“If you like.”

Noah chuckled. “I am tempted to burn this place down and start over again.”

“Sit,” she said, in the bossiest voice she had. “Let me take care of that eye.”

To her astonishment, he did as she asked. Maybe this morning he felt too disheartened and ashamed to put up a fight. Maybe he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She rummaged through a few of his tidy cupboards until she found a glass and poured Noah some lemonade. Without a word, he downed half of it and set it on the table.

He sat quietly with his eyes downcast and his hand wrapped around the glass while Mandy peeled a potato and cut it into thick slices. She arranged the slices on a plate and took them to the table. “Here,” she said. “Let me put one of these on.”

He hissed as she laid the potato slice over his black eye. “Isn’t this supposed to be a steak?” he said.

“Do you have a steak?”

“Nae.”

“I didn’t think so.” She grabbed his hand and raised it to his eye. “Hold the potato in place.”

“For how long?”

She pinched her lips together to keep from breaking into a grin. “Three weeks.”

He flinched in surprise and pulled the potato away from his eye. “Three weeks?”

She laid her hand over his and nudged the potato back in place. “It’s a joke, Noah. Give it twenty minutes.” Her hand lingered over his for just a second. She loved the rough texture of his skin against her palm.

He cleared his throat.

She cleared her throat....

And pulled her hand away. What had she been thinking?

“When did this happen?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Last night.”

Mandy bit her bottom lip.

He slid his gaze from her face and stared faithfully at a long, crooked crack in the table. “He never used to drink on the Sabbath.”

“Did he hit you when you tried to take him home?”

“When my dat gets that drunk, I can usually deflect the blow. This one caught me by surprise.” He clenched his jaw. “He’s even stronger when he’s had something to drink.”

She could see the tension in his fingers as he clutched his glass. So much pain. For a boy who found humiliation unbearable, he was certainly bearing more than his share.

She couldn’t resist laying her hand on his arm. He stiffened at her touch but didn’t pull away. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. No one in the community thinks any less of you.”

He still refused to look at her as he pulled his arm from under her hand. “That’s because they don’t know how bad it is.”

“Even if they knew, they wouldn’t blame you.”

He pulled the potato slice from his face and fixed his eyes on her. They looked to be on fire as his gaze pierced her skull. “Look at me, Mandy. Do I look like a godly man? What will everyone think when they see this? What did you think?”

She stared at him until he felt compelled to meet her eye. “I am heartbroken that you must bear this trial. That’s what I think.”

He stared at her as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth. “Then you’re the only one.”

She was telling the truth. He had to see that. “Your patience and devotion to your fater astonish me.”

Sitting back, he folded his arms and looked out the window. “I’m not devoted. I’m ashamed.”

“God is good, Noah. Please don’t be ashamed. It makes my heart sick to hear you say it.”

He shifted in his chair, making it creak under his solid weight, and swiped some moisture from his eyes. He flashed her a pathetic smile. “I’m not a crybaby.”

“Nae.”

“But you’ve seen me bawl twice.”

She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “I do that to people. I was kind of disappointed that I didn’t make you cry that first day I came to your house.”

His grin grew in strength. “I cried when you left.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Cried for joy,” he said.

Giggling, she cuffed him on the shoulder. “Put that potato back on your eye, or it won’t get better.”

He positioned the potato over his eye again and took another swallow of lemonade.

“If you want to be embarrassed,” she said, “think of how silly you look with a potato stuck to your face.”

“I’d rather have a steak.”

She opened her mouth like a fish gasping for air. “I’m appalled by the ingratitude.”

Any hint of cheerfulness fled from his face, and he reached over with his free hand and took hers. Little sparks traveled from her fingertips clear up her arm. “Despite my rudeness, I am very grateful. Denki for the potatoes.”

For a moment, she forgot how to speak. “It’s nothing.”

“Nae,” he said, squeezing her hand and sending sparks clear to her toes. “It means everything.”

“I tricked you to get you to open the door. You didn’t really have a choice.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Next time I’ll leave you on the front step with Chester.”

“And I would deserve that.”

The front door opened suddenly, and Mandy started and slid her hand from Noah’s grasp. Noah’s dat stepped into the house carrying a wooden basket shaped like a heart. He immediately caught sight of Mandy sitting at the table. “Ach, du lieva,” he said mildly, trying to pull a smile onto his face. “We have a visitor.”

Noah glanced at Mandy with evident concern on his face. She smiled and gave him a reassuring nod.

His dat wasn’t quite as tall as Noah, but he looked almost as strong. He had kind, intelligent eyes like his son, and he walked slightly stooped over, as if he been beaten down by life a few times too many.

His gaze darted to Noah, and Mandy thought she had never seen someone look so ill at ease.