Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two (12 page)

His father considered this for a moment. “There was a time last December, while we
were rebuilding the Ropp house, when some of us wondered whether Rudy’s family would
decide not to move back there because they’d lost their savings in the fire,” he replied.
“But right now I don’t know of anybody turning loose of land. Most of it gets passed
down rather than going up for sale.”

Matt nodded, thinking. If Titus moved his flock here, they might be able to share
some of the chores, like shearing, or lower some of their expenses by buying larger
quantities of veterinary supplies or feed supplements. Titus would certainly bring
Beth Ann with him, so maybe…maybe Rosemary would come along, too. That possibility
inspired Matt to pursue even the remotest chance that somebody might sell off a parcel
of land.

As he glanced through the front windows, where he could see the Grabers’ front porch,
Matt got an idea. “What with Carl Byler farming a gut bit of the Graber place, now
that Merle can’t handle that sort of work, do you suppose Merle might sell some of
his property?”

His dat pushed up his rimless reading glasses. “Carl farms a lot of Paul Bontrager’s
acreage right next to the Grabers, too,” he replied as he thought about it. “But be
careful, son. Talk to James real quiet-like, when Merle and Eunice aren’t around,
or you’ll get them all upset. And we wouldn’t want Preacher Paul hearing rumors that
somebody wanted to buy him out,” Sam remarked. “We can’t forget that those families
depend on the income from the crops Carl raises for them, either.”

Matt nodded, already envisioning what a perfect arrangement it would be if Titus could
pasture his flock right across the road. He was fighting a smile, imagining he was
already courting Rosemary…

“Another consideration,” his father said, “is that Titus’ll need a house. I can’t
see him as the sort to build a new place at his age.”

Matt sighed. “Jah, there’s that. I’ll think about it before I say anything.”

He returned to the sheep lot. As he refilled the wooden creep feeder at the pasture
gate with finely ground grain for the new lambs, to get them accustomed to solid food
before he weaned them from their mothers, Matt tried to remain objective about Titus’s
request…reminding himself that Rosemary might have different
ideas altogether from Titus when it came to moving away from her home. Even so, as
he gazed across the county blacktop toward the Graber acreage, separated from Preacher
Paul’s cornfields by only a wire fence, he could envision sheep grazing there. Such
a conversion would mean feeding Titus’s sheep more processed rations—or pasturing
them here, with his own flock—until those cropland acres across the road could be
plowed and replanted with pasture grasses. It would require some sturdy new livestock
fencing, too, which wasn’t cheap.

But it could be done.

His dat was right, though: while Titus would willingly invest in the changes required
to keep his sheep, building a house was a far-fetched proposition for a fellow of
that age who didn’t have a wife. Even with a daughter to raise and Rosemary looking
after him, Titus wasn’t the sort to spend any more than he had to on a place to live…Matt
had heard of displaced Amish families living in trailers or manufactured homes, but
that idea went against the grain here in Cedar Creek. His dat and other folks had
donated lumber and supplies, and local carpenters had built Rudy and Adah Ropp’s new
house in less than a month—in freezing December weather—because they believed in helping
each other live in real homes, which fostered permanent roots.

Matt filled the bucket feeder, equipped with two big nipples, and watched his orphaned
twin lambs suck their milk. He rubbed his dogs’ ears, smiling at them. “All this thinking
isn’t doing one bit of gut—for me, or for Titus, either,” he murmured as Pearl and
Panda leaned into the strokes he was giving them. “You pups take care of the flock
while I go across the road. I won’t have any answers unless I ask some questions,
will I?”

As soon as he’d finished his chores, Matt headed for the Graber Custom Carriage shop,
which sat closer to the road than the rambling white house where James, his sister
Emma, and their parents lived. It was a relief to see that Emma wasn’t out working
in the
garden. He wasn’t eager to talk to her while he was on this mission for Titus. He
entered the shop’s front door and then paused to look around.

The large, open work area was filled with a couple of farm wagons and an enclosed
carriage in various stages of completion, while along the walls shelves and workbenches
held the tools of James’s carriage-making trade. Noah Coblentz, who was now an apprentice
here, waved at him from the bed of the wagon he was painting, while Perry Bontrager,
the preacher’s son, stood at the rear of the other wagon, welding a wheel. The whine
of a pneumatic saw filled the big room until Leon Mast spotted Matt and shut it off.

“Hey there, Matt,” he said with a grin that split his thick, dark beard. “Let me guess—you’ve
come to order a courting buggy. After the way you were watching that gal from over
Queen City way—”

“Nope, you guessed wrong, Leon.” Matt hoped the sudden heat in his face wouldn’t give
away his embarrassment. Had every guest at Zanna’s wedding noticed the shine he’d
taken to Rosemary? “I was hoping to have a word with James.”

“Other room,” Noah replied, pointing with his paintbrush. “He’s finishing another
of those fancy-dancy carriages like a princess would ride in for a parade.”

“Jah. Denki.” Matt walked carefully around Perry’s sparks and smoke. He knocked playfully
on the welder’s helmet and then made his way past the new carriage’s fiberglass body.

He hadn’t given it much thought, but Leon was on target with his remark about a courting
buggy: most young Amish fellows looked forward to the day when they received a fine
new rig, usually when they had a special young lady in mind to drive home from singings
or for long rides on warm summer nights. Up to this point, Matt had been content to
drive the buggy his dat had bought a few years back. If he ordered a courting buggy
now, maybe—if he offered a bonus—James would complete it in time to escort Rosemary
around Cedar Creek and the surrounding Missouri countryside this summer. And if she
refused to see him, well…he would have a nice vehicle ready for when the right woman
came along.

Matt stepped into the back room, which was almost as large as the one he’d come from,
to see James stretching a piece of deep red leather over a curved seat section. Lately
the carriage maker had received several orders for specialty vehicles from places
all over the map—tourist attractions and theme parks, mostly—and James insisted on
doing the intricate finishing work on these buggies himself while his employees built
the wagons and carriages Plain folks had ordered. Matt stood quietly, watching, until
James straightened to his full height.

“Gut afternoon to ya, James. I’ve got to say that’s the most
colorful
carriage I’ve ever seen,” Matt said with a chuckle.

“Jah, ‘colorful’ is a gut word for the Mardi Gras in New Orleans, the way I understand
it.” James brushed his hair back from his damp face. “But you haven’t seen the half
of it. Along with this devil-red leather upholstery and the ebony trim, there’ll be
a giant mask on the front and another on the back, all covered with faceted light
bulbs in purple, green, and gold. They flash in patterns while another electrical
current follows the lights around the outline of the mask. Chaser lights, they call
them.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “And you know how to do all that electrical work?”

James chuckled and stepped down to the floor. “I tell the folks who order these carriages
that I can produce whatever they want—and then I get a lot of on-the-job training,”
he replied. “For what they pay me, it’s fun to tinker on new systems and make a rig
look and handle better than they expect. The only thing I won’t build them is a horse
to pull it.”

“So this one’s almost finished?” Matt walked around the gleaming vehicle, admiring
the fine craftsmanship. A globe-shaped network of wiring formed a nearly invisible
canopy that arched above
the two passenger seats, which faced each other behind the open carriage’s driver’s
seat.

“They tell me a Mardi Gras mask wouldn’t be complete without feathers, and they sent
some big ones for me to use. I have to figure out how to attach them, though, along
with some fake jewels.” James looked delighted with this project even if no Amish
fellow would be seen driving it. “I’ll ask Abby to help with the trimming, as she’s
handier with that than I am. She’s agreed to go for a test ride, too. Won’t that be
something, rolling through Cedar Creek with all those flashing lights?”

“Better put blinders on your horse and hope you don’t spook anybody’s bulls. I’d like
to watch it roll by just to get the full effect.” Matt was nodding, still trying to
figure out how to ask his question while he was alone with James.

“So what’s on your mind today?” James asked after a short silence. “A courting buggy,
maybe?”

“All right, so I made it pretty obvious I was interested in Rosemary Yutzy,” Matt
protested. When he heard how his voice echoed in the high-ceilinged workroom, he stepped
closer to James. “Truth be told, I’m here on account of how Titus called—because he
wants to move to Cedar Creek!” he explained in a lower tone.

“Jah? I sure didn’t see that coming.”

“Well, here’s the real question for you.” Matt glanced behind him to be sure none
of James’s employees were in the doorway. “Far as I know, nobody has any land for
sale hereabouts. Since Carl’s farming most of your acreage, I’m taking a long shot,
asking if you’d consider selling those lower fields that join on with Paul’s.”

James’s eyes widened. “Well, now, I wasn’t expecting you to ask
that.
”

“And if you need time to think about it or to ask your dat—”

“Oh, I can already tell you Dat’s not ready to part with any land—and not so much
because he depends on the income,” James clarified. “This place belonged to his dat
and his grandpa Graber
before that. Mamm would have a fit, too. She’d figure we must be getting low on money,
and that wouldn’t sit too gut. The carriage shop makes us plenty to get by on, but
Dat considers the farming income his contribution to supporting the family, you see.”

“I figured you’d say that,” Matt said with a sigh. “But Titus asked me to check around.
I thought about asking Perry Bontrager the same question, but since Paul gets no pay
for preaching, I’m guessing he needs the income Carl’s crops bring in.”

“Jah, and Paul has aged to the point where he doesn’t do much cabinetry work, either.
Just smaller pieces and some repairs on days when his hands are steady.” James crossed
his arms, thinking. “You know, I can’t recall the last time a place came up for sale
here in Cedar Creek. Lots of families have had kids move elsewhere, but there’s always
been a son to carry on and keep the homeplace.”

“Jah, and what with the improvements it would take to convert that land for Titus’s
sheep, I can’t see him building a new house, either.” Matt sighed. “Just thought I’d
ask.”

James nodded and focused again on the seat he’d been covering. “If I hear of anything,
I’ll let you know. We’d rather have Plain families buy land around Cedar Creek before
English folks get wind of it being for sale.”

Matt headed for the side door. “Have a gut afternoon, James. See you around.”

The carriage maker’s face lit up. “Jah, you just might,” he replied. “If you’re watching
out your window tomorrow night, could be you’ll see a Mardi Gras carriage going by.
Imagine how your Aunt Abby will look riding in that!”

A
round one thirty on Saturday afternoon, Rosemary was trying not to let on that she
was expecting Matt to call. While she had tried to dissuade him at the wedding, she
intended to state her case firmly today—which was easier when he wasn’t gawking at
her with his playful eyes. Or maybe she should ignore his call altogether…except if
the phone kept ringing, Titus might pick up his extension in the barn. There was no
reason to let Matt think she would ever change her mind, and no way to know what he
and her father-in-law might have discussed when she was out of earshot. That left
her at a distinct disadvantage.

While Titus hadn’t said anything more about moving to Cedar Creek, he had worn a smug
smile all during dinner. What did that mean? Beth Ann had helped with the dishes and
then returned to her sewing. Already she had finished three pairs of work pants for
her dat, and she had nearly completed a new dress for the preaching service tomorrow,
as well. As the young girl sat at the old treadle machine, which had belonged to her
mother and to Alma’s mother before that, Rosemary envied Beth Ann’s ability to immerse
herself in a task she enjoyed.

“You’re sure you don’t mind watching Katie while I work outside?” Rosemary asked.
She had gardening to do—onions to thin out and peas to pick—which would keep her close
to the phone shanty out by the road.