Johanna's Bridegroom (6 page)

Together they went into the noisy food building. It was filled with mingling strangers and at least a dozen Amish. They were lucky enough to find a couple leaving a table and sat down. Rebecca opted for a soda and a roast-beef-and-cheese sandwich.

“That’s breakfast?” Johanna teased. She was sticking to iced tea, heavy on the sugar.

Rebecca laughed. “This is what the English call brunch. I ordered cheese fries for Aunt Jezzy. You know how she loves them.”

“Guder mariye!”
Lydia Beachy waved and came toward them, three children in tow. “How is your mother?”

Johanna found a chair for her mother’s friend and they each took a little one on their laps while the adults shared news of the past week. After a few moments, Johanna suggested that they’d better get back to help Aunt Jezzy with the stand.

“I just saw her,” Lydia said. One of her older children joined them, and Lydia doled out money for pizza and lemonade. “She was talking to Nip Hilty. You know Nip, don’t you? He has the harness shop on Peach Basket Road.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Saw them talking last Friday, too.”

“Nip Hilty?” Rebecca asked. “Didn’t his wife die last fall?”

“Ne.”
Lydia leaned closer to Johanna. “Two years ago, Bethany passed. A good woman. Came to our quiltings sometimes. Her heart, I think, but Bethany carried some weight on her. Like me.” Lydia patted her rounded abdomen.

Lydia herself was tall and thin with a wide, smiling mouth and a prominent nose. Lydia was definitely not and probably never would be a fat woman, Johanna thought. And if Lydia was gaining weight in the middle, it probably meant that she was expecting another baby. But there wasn’t a woman in Kent County with a better heart, unless it was Anna or
Mam.
Lydia was so sweet that people naturally told her everything about everyone. Lydia sifted through the gossip and only passed on what was good and what she believed was true. And if Lydia was hinting at something between Aunt Jezzy and this Nip Hilty, it must have been commonly talked about in the Amish community and generally approved of.

“I’ve always thought the world of your aunt,” Lydia said. “Since your
grossmama
went to live with Anna and Samuel, Jezebel has really perked up. Wouldn’t it be something if she found herself a beau at her age?”

Rebecca exchanged glances with Johanna. “Maybe we should get back to work.”

“You go on,” Lydia urged. “You take a look and see if I’m not right. Like as not, Nip will still be there. Last week, he stood there the better part of an hour, talking her ear off. And Jezzy didn’t seem to mind, not one bit.”

“What do you think?” Rebecca asked when they were far enough from the lunch area that Lydia could no longer hear them. “She’d never... Not Aunt Jezzy. I just can’t imagine...”

Johanna kept walking. She’d make no judgment until she saw them together with her own eyes. It didn’t seem possible. Aunt Jezzy was even shyer around Amish men than she was around the English, in general. Johanna had rarely heard her speak to Anna’s husband, Samuel, and he certainly wasn’t a stranger in the Yoder house. The only male she regularly spoke to was Irwin.

“I don’t know what started that talk,” Rebecca continued, “but I don’t think that she would...would...”

Johanna stopped so quickly that Rebecca nearly bumped into her. There, behind the table, was Aunt Jezzy, and leaning against a post, eating an ice cream cone, was Nip Hilty. Aunty Jezzy’s cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling. She was talking up a storm, and Nip Hilty was laughing. And in Aunt Jezzy’s hand was a half-eaten double-dip strawberry ice cream cone—a treat she certainly hadn’t bought herself.

Chapter Six

“H
ave you heard anything about Aunt Jezzy and Nip Hilty?” Johanna asked her mother. The two of them were in the kitchen, just finishing preparing supper. Since she, Rebecca and Aunt Jezzy had been at Spence’s during the midday meal,
Mam
had gone to more trouble than usual tonight. She’d roasted three fat hens and had made fresh peas and dumplings to go with loaves of dark rye bread, German potato salad, garden salad and a counter full of peach pies. Susanna had already set the table, with Katy’s help, and the two of them had gone out to call Irwin, Jonah and ’Kota in to wash up.

“I’ve met Nip,”
Mam
answered, “but I think you and Rebecca must be hatching chickens out of turnips. I can’t imagine that Aunt Jezzy would like him in any way other than someone to exchange neighborly talk with.”

Johanna glanced toward the door to see Rebecca, her arms full of wildflowers, push open the screen door and enter the kitchen. Once they’d returned home from the sale, Rebecca had changed out of her good dress and had exchanged her
Kapp
for a blue kerchief. Her eyes were shining, her bare feet were dusty and bits of leaves were caught in her hair.

“The flowers are beautiful,” Johanna said, admiring the bouquet of yellow oxeye daisies, evening primrose and marsh marigold mixed with the vivid blues of wild lupine and Jacob’s ladder. “But you look like you lost a tussle with a banty hen.”

Rebecca laughed. “They don’t call them wildflowers for nothing. Some are pretty tough.”

Mam
joined in the easy laughter. “Here, you can put them in this tin pitcher. They’ll look nice on the supper table.”

Rebecca dumped the flowers and greenery in the sink and began to cut the stems to fit the flowers in the tin pitcher. Of all of them, Rebecca had the greatest gift for growing and arranging flowers. She’d gathered the blooms in less than half an hour.

“I haven’t seen the lupine yet this year,” Johanna said. “The blue looks so pretty against the yellow of the daisies. Where did you find them?”

“The usual places—the edge of the orchard, behind the barn,” Rebecca replied. “But don’t change the subject. I heard you say something about me, and I want to know what.”

“Nothing bad,”
Mam
assured her.

Johanna chuckled. “I was telling
Mam
about Aunt Jezzy and Nip Hilty—about how we were sure he bought her that ice cream cone.”

Rebecca glanced at their mother. “If you’d been there,
Mam,
you would think the same thing. She was so relaxed with him, not shy the way she usually is, but all giggly and rosy-cheeked. I’m telling you, Aunt Jezzy has a beau.”

Mam
folded her arms and shook her head. “You two. You’re worse than Martha for gossip. If Jezzy hasn’t found a match to suit her in all these years, I doubt she’ll change her mind now.”

“I’m just saying, it looked suspicious.” Rebecca added water to the pitcher and set the arrangement in the center of the white tablecloth. “In a good way,” she added. “It would be wonderful if Aunt Jezzy did find a husband, don’t you think? She’s never had her own home. She’s such a good person. She deserves to be happy.”

Mam
looked from one of them to the other and pursed her lips. “Better the two of you concern yourselves with finding your own husbands.” Johanna knew her mother was teasing them, but there was always a thread of truth in
Mam’s
jests.

“Not me,” Rebecca protested. “I’m too young to get married.”

The sound of a car engine caught Johanna’s attention. She went to the window to see Grace drive cautiously across the barnyard and park her automobile in the shed. “I can’t get used to that motor vehicle coming and going,” Johanna remarked. “But I suppose Grace needs it to get to school.”

“It will only be here a few more months,”
Mam
said, “until her wedding. And I’m sure you’ll miss her when she’s gone.”

“We all will,” Rebecca agreed. “We all love her, but it’s awkward sometimes, explaining to other Amish why we have a car in our shed and an Englisher living in our house.”

“She isn’t an Englisher,”
Mam
corrected gently. “Grace is a Yoder, and she and her son have as much right to be in your father’s house as any of us.”

Rebecca’s expression grew instantly contrite. “I was lacking in charity to say that, wasn’t I?”

“It’s no more than what I’ve thought a hundred times.” Johanna sliced the still-warm loaves of bread with a serrated knife. “But
Mam
is right. Grace is our sister, and she belongs here. I didn’t mean to be unkind. It’s just...”

“Just that change comes hard...for all of us,”
Mam
agreed. “I agree that our life was simpler before Grace came, but maybe simple isn’t God’s plan for us. Maybe loving one another when it isn’t easy makes us grow.”

Mam
removed her work apron and replaced it with a freshly ironed one as white as her starched
Kapp.
She went to the door and opened it wide. “Come in, child,” she called. “You’re late tonight, but just in time for the evening meal.”

From across the yard, Johanna heard the laughter of her daughter and the noisy chatter of Grace’s ’Kota and her Jonah. Irwin was a few yards behind them, strolling along in his awkward long-legged gait, but keeping pace with a smiling Susanna.

How could I think of leaving this happy house?
Of risking my children’s happiness to marry Roland, or any man for that matter?
Her years with Wilmer had been tumultuous, and despite her efforts and her tears, she’d never been able to provide the warmth and security her mother’s home provided for them all. Jonah and Katy had both blossomed here in this big house. The once-quiet Katy never stopped chattering, and Jonah had changed from a sad child to a bundle of energy.

I should be more like Mam
.
I have a good enough example. It wasn’t enough that Mam was widowed with seven daughters to raise. She not only managed with us and the farm, but she’d opened her arms to Irwin and Grace and ’Kota. She opened her arms to me
....

Katy came running into the kitchen. “I found a duck egg!” she cried. “Look,
Grossmama!
And I carried it myself!” She thrust the egg out. “Aunt Susanna says I can have it for breakfast tomorrow!”

“Better you let me beat your egg into pancakes,” Rebecca suggested. “Duck eggs are rich and make nice batter.”

The two boys spilled into the room on Katy’s heels, and Johanna sent them along to wash their hands. She greeted Grace, heard Irwin’s tale of an escaped pig and agreed with Susanna that more people were coming every day to borrow books from the tiny lending library that she managed in the old milk house. And in the familiar bustle and routine of the supper hour, Johanna was able to forget her worries about the future and lose herself in the here and now.

Soon the family gathered around the table and lowered their heads for silent prayer. Even Katy and the two boys understood the need to give thanks to God for all the blessings He had bestowed on them. A sense of peace flowed though Johanna. The cares of the world seemed far away.

Once grace was over, everyone began to help themselves to the delicious food. “Wonderful bread,” Aunt Jezzy proclaimed. “And your dumplings are light enough to float up to the ceiling.”

“Why would they do that?” Susanna asked, poking at a dumpling with her fork. “I want them to stay on my plate so that I can eat them.” Everyone smiled at that, and Susanna laughed.

I am truly blessed,
Johanna thought.
To be born into this family and faith.
She promised herself that she would try harder to be worthy of them.

“So,”
Mam
said to Aunt Jezzy, “the girls say you have an admirer. Nip Hilty. Isn’t he a bachelor?”

Aunt Jezzy flushed a bright pink and giggled like a teenager.

“Maybe he’s the reason you’re so eager to tend the table on sale days,”
Mam
suggested.

Aunt Jezzy peeked up through her lashes and spun her water glass exactly three rotations. “He bought me ice cream,” she said. “Strawberry.” She smiled. “And that’s all I’ll say about Nip tonight.”

* * *

The following morning, Johanna and Katy followed the winding path that led across the field from
Mam’s
house to Ruth and Eli’s. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and last night’s shower made the world smell new and fresh in a way that brought tears to Johanna’s eyes.
I couldn’t imagine not living close to the earth
.
How do people in cities breathe, let alone thrive?

Bees buzzed around the honeysuckle in the hedgerow, and the clover was soft under their bare feet. Johanna paused and knelt down to catch Katy in her arms and hug her tightly. “I love you,” she murmured. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,
Mam,
” the child echoed in her sweet voice. “I love you more than the moon.”

Off to her left she saw Charley digging post holes for his new fence line. “Morning, sister,” he called to her. Johanna waved back. Secretly, she was glad that Charley was busy and wasn’t at the house. Charley was as close as a brother to her, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that Roland had proven to be so difficult, but making small talk with him this morning would have been awkward.

Since Ruth had gotten so large with the coming twins, Johanna and Rebecca tried to come over at least one day a week to help her with the housework. Miriam and her husband, Charley, lived upstairs, but Miriam—always happier outside than in—spent her days working the farm beside her husband.

As they entered the house, Johanna could smell Ruth’s coffee. Katy ran to her and gave her a hug. “Wait until you see what I have,” Ruth said. She opened the pantry door, and there in a laundry basket, Johanna saw her sister’s orange tabby with three tiny kittens.

“Ooh,” Katy said. “Can I hold one?”

Ruth squatted awkwardly and picked up a fuzzy black kitten with white paws and a white spot on its chest. “You can touch it. Gently,” she instructed. “But they are too young for you to hold yet. Next week you can hold them.” Ruth glanced back. Johanna nodded. “And, if you do just as I tell you, if you are very, very responsible, you can have one of the kittens as soon as it’s old enough to leave the mother.”

“I can? For my own?” Katy wiggled with joy. “
Mam?
Can I?”

“You heard your aunt Ruth. You must show her that you know how to take care of a
bussli.
A kitten is a big responsibility. You must feed it and take it outside and keep it safe until it’s large enough to take care of itself.”

“She’s a sensible child,” Ruth said after they’d left Katy to admire the kittens and gone out to sit on Ruth’s screened-in porch with their coffee. “You’ve done a wonderful job with her. You’re a fine mother. I only hope I can do as well.”

“You?” Johanna chuckled. “You’ll be a far better mother than me.”

Ruth rubbed the front of her apron. “I can’t wait. It doesn’t seem possible. Eli and I...after we lost...” She sighed. “I worry that everything will be all right, Johanna. I don’t know how I’d bear it if something went wrong.”

“We must trust in God. You’re healthy. The babies have strong heartbeats.” Johanna had gone to the midwife with Ruth on her last checkup and heard the heartbeats herself. “There’s no reason to be afraid. Enjoy your last days of peace and quiet. With twins, you and Eli won’t get a full night’s sleep for at least two years.”

Ruth laughed. “If I ever complain, remind me that I prayed for this.” For a few moments, they sat in silence, listening to a Carolina wren scolding a jay that approached too close to the wren’s nest under the porch eaves. They watched the sunshine sparkle on the dewdrops that lingered on the hollyhocks, savoring the quiet companionship of sisters who were best friends.

And then Ruth broke the comfortable solitude by saying, “Dorcas came by yesterday afternoon. She told me that Roland asked you to marry him and you turned him down flat.”

Johanna nearly choked on her mouthful of coffee. “What?” she sputtered. “Who told her that?” Their cousin Dorcas could be a bit of a gossip.

The expression in Ruth’s nutmeg-brown eyes grew serious. “Is it true? Did you turn him down?”

Anger flared in Johanna’s chest.
How could Roland betray her by spreading such gossip? By telling an outright untruth?
“No,” she said. “That’s not the way it happened.
I
asked Roland to marry me, and
he
refused.”

“Verhuddelt.”
Ruth shook her head. “I thought it was
lecherich
—ridiculous—but you know Dorcas. I thought it was best to ask you to your face. By now Aunt Martha has probably spread the rumor over half the county.”

“And all the way up to Lancaster. By next week, they’ll be talking about it in Oregon.” Johanna felt sick.
What could make Roland say such a thing? Was he so ashamed of his reaction to her proposal that he had to make it seem as if everything was her fault?
“If Roland’s that low to spread such gossip, maybe it’s better that he did refuse me.”

“I’ve hurt you,” Ruth said. “I didn’t mean to. But I thought it best you hear it from family, rather than at church or at the market. And I won’t ask you what happened. You can tell me when you’re ready. If you want to tell me at all.”

Johanna wasn’t up for retelling the whole story, at least not right now. “Did Dorcas say where her mother heard it?”

“I think she said it came from Roland and Charley’s sister Mary, but...” Ruth looked heavenward. “Dorcas never gets anything right. It could have been Rebecca or Miriam or even Anna. Roland is close to Charley. They confide in each other, and Charley can’t keep anything from Miriam.” She chuckled. “He’s mad for her. You’d think they were still courting, rather than an old married couple.”

“Aunt Ruth?” Katy peered through the open door to the porch. “Why can’t the
bussli
open its eyes?”

“The light is too bright for such a young kitten. All in God’s time, precious. Have you decided which one you want?”