Love’s Journey Home (8 page)

“That he is.” Thomas strode toward them, his boots squelching in the mud. He didn’t
look happy. “Best leave him in the corral. We’ll take the Morgan and the sorrel. Let
this horse rest. He’s my best horse for harvest. The wheat is battered and the fields
are full of mud and standing water. By the time it dries out, it will be too late.
We’ve lost it—again.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” Gabriel felt the loss as his own. As a farmer, he knew nothing
hurt more then the loss of a cash crop. Thomas depended on the proceeds to support
his family. “A total loss?”

“Yep.” Thomas tugged at his hat, then shoved it back. “But we’ll be fine. We always
are. We’ll use this time to clean up and then take a look at the well. If it’s going
dry, we must dig for another one. Soon. This week.”

“You ever consider doing something else?” Isaac posed the question. “Everybody I talk
to says farming won’t support us like it used to do.”

“Nee, I wouldn’t give up farming, but there’s been talk around here of switching from
wheat to cattle.” Thomas’s tone said he didn’t abide by the idea. “The start-up costs
are high, but you’re less vulnerable to the weather.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Change is hard.”

An undeniable fact, but one that Gabriel was surprised to hear from Thomas.

“Speaking of change, Thomas, don’t you think the bakery would be a good place for
Mary Elizabeth to work? She’s a good cook and she likes to bake.” Isaac leaned against
the wagon, not looking at Gabriel. “Helen Crouch said your sister-in-law was looking
for good help.”

“If your father wishes Mary Elizabeth to work, the bakery is as good a place as any.
Annie needs the help and she is devoted to the Ordnung.” Thomas was always the diplomat.
Gabriel liked that about his cousin. “What do you think, Gabriel?”

“I think Isaac wants an excuse to go into town and look at the building we bought
for the repair shop. I think he’s in a big hurry to get out of a hard day’s work,
chopping tree branches, mending fences, and shoveling mud. That’s what I think.”

“Is there harm in that?” Isaac’s face turned red as the clouds at sunrise. He picked
up a rock and chucked it into the field. “We came here to get a new start. What’s
the point if we do the same old thing?”

“We’re enjoying Thomas’s hospitality.” Youth. Always in such a hurry for the next
thing instead of taking care of the here and now. Isaac would get over that with time.
Gabriel almost hated that thought. “You could go after—”

The sound of an approaching horse caused the Percheron to snort and do a half-step
shuffle into Gabriel. Looking over the horse, he backed off to avoid getting stepped
on.

Helen Crouch approached, her son seated next to her. The boy looked no worse for the
wear despite his actions of the previous evening. She must’ve rousted him from his
bed well before dawn to be out in the Brennaman homestead this early. Helen, on the
other hand, had dark circles under her eyes that spoke of a sleepless night. The memory
of how he’d scolded her the previous evening made heat coil around his neck and writhe
along his jaw. She was only a woman, after all, and one without a husband to rein
in their children.

“Good morning.” Thomas spoke first. “You’re out and about early.”

“The big oak in front of our house toppled over last night. Peter says it was old
and the root system weakened by the drought. By God’s grace, no one was hurt, but
we’ve much work to do to clean it up and rebuild the damaged wall and roof.” Her tone
stiff, she wrapped the reins around small, plump hands, her gaze flitting to Gabriel
and then back to Thomas. “Peter, Tobias, and Thaddeus are there now, attempting to
move the trunk and all the debris.”

“We best get over there and help them.” Thomas made a move toward the wagon. “We’ll
switch out the horses and be right there.”

“You’ve done enough.” Helen’s face turned a dark red hue. “I brought Edmond over to
help with your cleanup. Being he’s not allowed to drive a buggy, I’ll deliver and
pick him up.”

The boy’s face turned as red as his mother’s, and he hung his head. Gabriel almost
felt pity for him—almost. Edmond had put people in danger, put himself in danger,
and he’d embarrassed his family.

Gabriel moved around the horse. “Surely we can help your family out and then they
can do the same for Thomas here. If it’s a big tree, it’ll take all of us to chop
it up and prepare it for kindling. You’ll be needing drywall, lumber, and glass for
the windows from town.”

“He’s right, Helen.” Thomas smoothed his beard. “Edmond should be helping his
onkels
.”

Helen turned to her son. “Get down.”

A reluctant look on his face, the boy slid from his seat and trudged around the horse.
He stopped next to Gabriel. Despite his youth, he stood nearly as tall as Gabriel.
His big hands hung limp at his side. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.” He
swallowed, let his gaze drop to the ground, then brought it back to Gabriel’s. “I
know your little girl could’ve been hurt and I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology.” Gabriel began unhooking the horse from the wagon. “I reckon
you learned a lesson.”

“One he’ll keep on learning for a long time.” Helen’s clipped tones brooked no argument
on that. “Go on, Edmond, finish up.”

The boy trudged over to Thomas. “I will pay back the money Mudder borrowed from you
for the bond.” His gaze swung toward his mother and back to Thomas. “I’m to do whatever
you need me to do and then try to get a job in town. I’ll turn the paychecks over
to you.”

“We have no wheat to harvest and our storm damage is little compared to what you have.
I imagine your onkels need help on your farm—”

“Edmond owes you. We owe you.” Helen interrupted Thomas in a manner that told Gabriel
she wasn’t used to interrupting a man—any man, least of all Thomas—but seemed very
determined on this matter. “We appreciate your help. Now, I’ll go home and start the
noon meal. There will be many hungry mouths to feed after the hard work of removing
the tree and rebuilding the wall.”

“We’ll take Edmond to your house with us.” Thomas’s tone was firm. “We’re right behind
you.”

“As you like.” She looked like a plump wren in her brown dress. One who turned into
a hawk the minute someone threatened her chicks. “Tobias will want to return the favor.”

“If Isaac wants to start working on getting the repair shop ready, that is fine,”
Thomas added. “I see Luke and his cousins coming up over the hill there. My brothers
will be along any minute. We’ll take turns working each property until everyone’s
is cleaned up, starting with Helen’s.”

Thomas had missed the point, but Gabriel couldn’t ignore the pleading look on his
son’s face. As a grown man with a mind of his own, Isaac had the right to make his
own decisions. Hard as Gabriel found it to let go. “Fine.”

Isaac grinned and gave a whoop that reminded Gabriel that he wasn’t so grown up after
all. “You’ll see, Daed. I’ll have that place whipped into shape and ready to open
before you know it.”

He didn’t say it, but Gabriel knew he was thinking it. Thinking he could also look
into the blacksmith job. Isaac had spent enough time working with his own daed. He
wanted to spread his wings. So much for the family working together.

A
nnie punched the dilly bread down harder than necessary, folded in the sides, and
turned it over to reshape into a ball. If anyone saw her he’d wonder why a Plain girl
had her hand fisted like that, pummeling the dough harder than necessary. It felt
good. She had learned this technique from her Englisch friend Charisma Chiasson, who
explained that kneading bread dough could be considered what she called therapy. That
would be their little secret. The pleasing aroma of the fresh dill and chopped onions
wafted through the bakery. It would welcome customers when she unlocked the doors
in another hour. She inhaled and let it soothe her. Early mornings at the bakery were
the best time of day. So peaceful.

Unlike her home. The memory of the previous evening’s events invaded her peaceful
refuge. Catherine had been gone this morning when Annie took her a plate of biscuits
and sausage. Gone without even leaving a note. But then, that was Catherine’s way.
If she didn’t come by the bakery today, Annie would seek her out. She would tell her
she couldn’t take photos, not of the family. It wasn’t right for her to expect that—or
anything—from the family and community she had abandoned. Annie punched down another
batch of dough harder than necessary and began shaping it into a loaf. Catherine had
no right. Annie would tell her that. Catherine had taken her by surprise on the previous
evening, but now, in the light of day, she knew what she must do.

The look on Luke’s face—that look of pain mixed with anger and hurt—haunted her. Luke
was a stoic man most of the time, but Catherine’s decision to leave on the heels of
their parents’ deaths had hurt him deeply. He’d been thrust into the role of head
of the family at a time when he was starting his own family. Catherine had not made
that transition any easier.

Catherine couldn’t be blamed, either. She’d suffered a terrible trauma, witnessing
the deaths of both their parents. Annie gently laid the bread dough in a greased loaf
pan, spread a dish towel over it, and left it to rise a second time. No one was to
blame. She hadn’t told Luke about the camera or the pictures or the memoir. Or the
doctor beau and the inability to have children. Better to let the shock of Catherine’s
visit ease before dumping the rest on Luke. He had his hands full with the storm damage
and the harvest right now. Or the lack of harvest. One thing at a time.

Annie wiped at her damp forehead with the back of her greasy hand and sighed. The
bumbleberry pies and the maple drop cookies were already baking, but she had so much
more to do before the bakery opened. She needed to make two more rhubarb pies, an
applesauce cake, and two batches of oatmeal raisin cookies. Exhaustion weighed her
down. She needed help.

“I’m here! Sorry I’m late. The chores took longer this morning because of the mess
left by the storm. Someone left the gate open and the pigs got out. It took me forever
to get them rounded up. Then the fence had to be mended where the Morgan kicked it
and then the dogs were chasing the rooster and…” As if in answer to a prayer, Mark
trotted into the bakery, his freckled face alight with a smile and his mouth running
fast as always. “Do you have deliveries? I left the horse hitched in case you needed
something delivered this morning.”

“Good morning to you too. Jah, I have deliveries. But first I need you to bring another
bag of flour up here and a bag of sugar.”

“Happy to oblige.”

“Why are you so cheerful?”

“Catherine’s back and have you seen the Gless girls?” He whistled. “Gabriel Gless
is staying with Thomas and Emma and he has eight kinner just like us, four of them
are girls, just like us, and one of them is close to my age—Mary Elizabeth—and…”

“I see, I see.” Annie held up her hand. “I don’t want you to get too carried away,
because you know you’re not supposed to talk to Catherine. She’s not staying, anyway.
The Glesses, on the other hand, are staying, according to Luke, but Gabriel Gless
is very strict with his girls. Besides, you’re not old enough to court yet. You can’t
even go to the singings for two more years.”

“I know, I know. But once Catherine spends time with us she’ll see. She’ll want to
stay.” Mark popped his suspenders with an airy grin. “And once Gabriel Gless gets
to know us, he’ll see we’re good company for his girls. We can be friends first. Singings
later.”

He looked so cheerful and sounded so optimistic, Annie didn’t have the heart to argue
about the Gless girls. “I don’t know about Catherine.”

“I do.” He grabbed a snickerdoodle from the tray on the counter and munched as he
headed to the storeroom. “Who could stay away forever? Not Catherine.”

He disappeared from sight, still talking. Annie had to laugh. Her little brother always
made her laugh. Asking him to work with her at the bakery after David’s death and
Sadie’s retirement had been the right thing to do. Now she needed another person who
could bake. She had more business than she knew how to handle, which was a blessing,
no doubt about it. But she didn’t want to lose customers because they had to wait
too long for their baked goods. Maybe Miriam’s little sister Delia could do it…

The door swung open and in walked a slim young girl in a dark blue dress that brought
out the brilliant color of her eyes. Behind her strode a man who immediately sought
Annie’s gaze and held it.

“We’re not open for another hour,” she called. “Sorry. If you could come back—”

“Annie Plank? Emma’s sister?” The man made her name a question and a statement at
the same time, if that were possible. As if he were very sure of himself.

“Jah. I’m Annie.”

“Gut.”

As if he’d known all along and she’d only needed to confirm. He towered over his companion
and had a lean body. His whiskerless face told her he wasn’t married, even though
he looked to be close to her age.

“I think it’s good most days,” she responded, aware he’d caught her staring. “Today,
I’m too far behind on my baking to be sure of it, however.”