Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two (26 page)

“Puppies?” she replied hopefully.

“Jah, Panda and Pearl are back home, watching the sheep,” he said with a nod. “They’ll
be glad to see you.”

“Me, too.” She stuck a finger in her mouth, fixing him with her gaze.

Rosemary chuckled. “Katie went running out into the yard and scared up a bunny in
the rhubarb patch yesterday. That was exciting.”

“Jah, we’ve had to shoo the bunnies from Mamm’s garden, too,” Matt said. “The dogs
love to chase after them in the pasture. Which do you like better, Katie? Bunnies
or puppies? Or kitties? We have barn kitties, too, you know.”

“I love bunnies,” the little girl sang as she began to rock from side to side. “I
love puppies…I love kitties. And I love
you
, Matt!”

His heart leaped up into his throat. How did he reply to that without making Rosemary
or Beth Ann feel awkward?

And why are you worried about them? Hasn’t this little girl just wrapped you around
her finger—and her heart?

Matt let out the breath he’d been holding, giving the only reply that made sense.
“And I love you, too, Katie. Wherever you go, you’re a ray of sunshine.”

She giggled. “Jah. I know.”

Beth Ann grabbed her playfully in the crook of her elbow, and it struck him how close
the two of them must be…Most likely, things were pretty quiet for a young lady of
twelve, out there on Titus’s place. As the girls tussled, he turned his attention
to Rosemary again. She was looking into the distance, maybe because Katie’s declaration
of affection had startled her. “You’ve got yourself quite a little sugar pie there,”
he murmured. “One of these days you’ll be beating off the boys with a stick.”

“It’s too soon to be thinking about that,” Rosemary declared. “Just got her out of
diapers not so long ago, and—but I don’t suppose a fellow like you has reason to talk
about such things.”

“Puh! Zanna brings Harley over nearly every day, you know. I’m not saying I know how
to pin a diaper on him, but I can sure tell when it’s time to pass him off to his
mamm again.”

When Rosemary burst out laughing, Matt suddenly felt like fireworks were
pop-pop-popping
in his soul, in bright colors that climbed higher with each ecstatic beat of his
heart. Rosemary’s cheeks glowed, and it was easy to imagine her sitting beside him
in a summer dress in a pretty color with an apron and kapp of white rather than black.

“So now you know what you’d be getting yourself into, if you took up with the likes
of me,” he remarked. “A little rough around the edges and maybe wet behind the ears,
but sincere. And trainable—mostly.”

Oh, how his insides quivered when Rosemary looked at him. “We’ll see about that.”

Matt got so lost in a romantic fog, he wasn’t sure how they arrived in Cedar Creek
and drove up Lambright Lane. But he knew the next ride with Rosemary couldn’t come
soon enough.

Rosemary listened to the many conversations going on in the Lambrights’ large front
room. Barbara had taken down some partitions, as they did for church, to allow space
for large tables where some of the neighbor ladies were cutting pieces of bright-colored
calicos. This had also opened up the room where the sewing machine was, and Treva
sat there seaming cut pieces into a Friendship Star design for a quilt top that was
already coming together beautifully.

Abby smiled at Rosemary. “We told Salome the frolic started this afternoon, and meanwhile
these gals came over with their fabric scraps.” With one swift, firm motion, she drew
the rotary cutter over several layers of marked calico. “So by the time Salome gets
here, figuring we’re having a baby shower—which we are—we’ll have a pretty quilt top
for
her
, too, made by all of us here in Cedar Creek.”

“What a wonderful-gut gift.” Rosemary stacked the triangles Abby had just cut. “Something
new, yet made from pieces that belonged to all her friends here. And why do I suppose
you
were behind this idea, Abby?”

Her friend shrugged as she arranged fabric pieces for another couple of cuts. “Perfect
way to visit while we make a quilt that would’ve taken any one of us several weeks—for
a gal we’ll all miss,” she added.

Rosemary glanced over toward the corner where Zanna sat between Beth Ann and Ruthie,
patiently demonstrating the technique of crocheting braided rugs with a large plastic
hook. Little Harley wiggled in his infant seat on the floor, laughing as Katie held
a stuffed patchwork puzzle ball beyond his reach—and then quickly tickled his face
with it.

Rosemary’s heart swelled. “Now, there’s a sight to see. Look at how fast Beth Ann’s
catching on to rug making.”

Her young sister-in-law’s face glowed as she nimbly crocheted the first length of
braid, which would form the center of her rug. Her slender wrists and fingers found
their rhythm quickly, stitch after stitch. Zanna nodded her encouragement while she
crocheted another strip so Ruthie could see the movements again.

“I figured it would be that way,” Abby said. “Ruthie was so glad Beth Ann would be
here today—and it’s gut for Zanna to share her skill, too. She and Jonny were to be
visiting some Ropp cousins, collecting a few more wedding gifts today, but everyone
there had a stomach bug. So they came home last night.”

“No need for them, or Harley, to be catching whatever that was,” Rosemary agreed,
handing Abby another stack of fabric pieces marked with the template for the design’s
center square. “I’m glad Beth Ann could start this rug, too, now that she’ll be leaving
the home where her mamm lived. She’s had some tough moments since Titus broke the
news.”

She focused again on the fabric pieces Abby had cut, matching up four triangles and
a square of the same color, which Treva would join with ivory triangles to form a
finished block. Just as all the various colors the local women had brought from their
scrap baskets would look fresh and cheerful when the blocks of the Friendship Star
quilt were sewn together and pressed, so it was with the community of women here in
Cedar Creek. Their personalities and ages and situations differed from one household
to the next, but when they came together in a common purpose, they formed a warm comforter
big enough to cover everyone in town.

Rosemary’s heart stilled. These women were no different from her friends in Queen
City. They loved to sew, and they loved to help their neighbors—mostly while they
talked. And they had already included her in their circle…

Considering how she spent most of her days in a quiet house with Katie, the noise
level here was amazing. Rosemary recognized many of the faces she’d seen at Zanna’s
wedding and Preacher Paul’s
funeral. “Let me see if I’m remembering names and connections,” she said. “Zanna’s
your younger sister, and the lady at the sewing machine is your mother, Treva, who
owns the greenhouse out by the road.”

“Jah,” Abby confirmed. “So who’re the gals at the table with your aunt Lois?” Abby
asked, testing her.

Rosemary thought for a moment. “The one in the thick glasses lives across the blacktop—Eunice,
isn’t it?”

“Right again. She’s James and Emma’s mamm.”

“And then there’s Bessie Mast in the teal dress, and Beulah Mae Nissley—Preacher Abe’s
wife, who runs the other café—and Adah Ropp.”

“And that’s Emma, with the light brown hair, sitting beside Mary and Martha Coblentz,”
Abby continued, gesturing to the table beside the one where the older ladies sat.
“The twins are easy to remember on account of their red hair. So, see? You’re getting
us all down pat, Rosemary.”

Abby again drew the rotary cutter over her stack of fabric, forming more squares.
“I hope that makes you feel gut about coming here. You’ll be just as uprooted as Beth
Ann when Titus moves—maybe more so, since you’ve lived in that area all your life,”
she added softly.

Something made Rosemary stop before insisting that she could stay behind in Queen
City if she chose. While Abby, as a single woman with her own home, would understand
that idea better than most, Rosemary decided to ride on this wave of contentment…this
gathering of souls who served the Lord today by making a quilt for a friend who was
leaving them. “We’ll all have our difficult moments,” she remarked, “because, for
sure and for certain, we’ll find unexpected reminders of Joe and Alma while we’re
packing up.”

“Jah, that’s why Matt and Sam and the other fellas are over at the Bontragers’, helping
Perry deal with his dat’s equipment,” Abby remarked. “Moving from one place to another
gets overwhelming if
you take it on by yourself. It’s a gift to have the help of friends. And it’s a lesson
we all need to learn, about accepting that help.”

Rosemary pulled a large piece of thistle-colored twill from the box on the floor.
While Abby wasn’t pointing any fingers, her comment felt like a shoe that had grown
too tight. It had been a while since she’d allowed anyone to help her. She stayed
too busy, proving she could handle life’s major changes all by herself…

At the table next to theirs, three women about Abby’s age had gathered to cut and
hem flat diapers from bird’s-eye cotton. “I don’t know how we’re gonna manage if the
lot falls to Carl to be the new preacher,” the woman with black hair remarked as her
needle flew along a diaper’s hem. “It’s all he can do now, what with farming for the
Grabers and Pete Beachey and raising his ducks for specialty restaurants.” Her brow
puckered as her voice rose. “And now that Perry’s moving, Titus Yutzy has asked Carl
to work up more of those fields and plant them in pasture grasses as soon as he can
get to it. He’s got no time to learn how to preach, believe me.”

“That’s Marian Byler,” Abby murmured into Rosemary’s ear. “She makes the scented soaps
we sell in the mercantile, and her little baby’s name is Bessie. And beside her is
Hannah Hartzler, Mose’s wife, and Eva Detweiler. They were all in my class in school.”

Rosemary nodded, still listening to the three women with her other ear. “I can understand
their concern,” she murmured. “Preaching is a big job and it takes a lot of time.”

“Jah, it’s the same with my Mose,” Hannah agreed as she laid out another length of
the cotton to cut more diapers. “What with his chimney sweeping and doing tuck-pointing
and masonry repair when he’s not laying brick for Amos Coblentz, he’s not home enough
to study up for preaching—not that I could see him standing in front of folks to deliver
the message of a Sunday morning,” she added wryly. “He’d be so scared, he’d jump out
of his skin!”

Hannah’s two companions laughed loudly enough to attract the attention of the other
women in the room.

“Same could be said for my Zeke,” Eva Detweiler chimed in as she snipped a thread.
“That man catches himself coming and going, installing dairy equipment in Clearwater
and Bloomingdale—and everywhere in between. And now that Joel’s too big for me to
heft in and out of his wheelchair, well—” Eva’s slender face furrowed with concern.
“Seems the Lord has already given us plenty enough work, and we’ve got more expensive
surgeries in the future for our son. I’m hoping nobody mentions Zeke’s name to the
bishop when he sets up for the drawing of the lot.”

“You know who I think would make a gut preacher? Sam Lambright!” Hannah declared.
“Takes a fella with some age and experience to lead a congregation.”

Adah Ropp, who was carrying cut squares and triangles for Treva to sew, countered
the idea. “Jah, but with Vernon and Abe getting up in years, we might do better having
a younger fella—”

“But it’s no different for Sam,” Marian pointed out. “Who’ll mind the mercantile while
he’s tending to folks who need confession? Or—”

“Zeke says the men are in a stew about picking a new preacher, too.” Eva spoke shrilly
above the other ladies. “True enough, when a man marries, he vows to accept the role
of preacher or deacon if the lot falls to him. But when you’re young, you’ve got no
idea what you’re agreeing to.”

Rosemary noticed that Abby had stopped cutting quilt pieces as she followed this conversation.
She wasn’t surprised when her friend stood up, clasping her hands in front of her
crisp white apron. “Ladies, we’ve got no reason to wear ourselves into a frazzle over
picking a preacher.”

Abby had by no means raised her voice, yet her tone quieted the entire room. All hands
went still. Treva stopped pumping the treadle of her sewing machine. The three young
women at the next table looked a little sheepish, but they turned in their chairs
to hear what Abby would say next.

“It’s a wonderful-gut thing, the way the
Ordnung
maps out our path when it comes to important matters of our faith,” she continued.
Her voice projected the same warmth and confidence that shone on her face as she spoke
to the roomful of women. “And it’s best for everyone—men and women alike—that God
chooses our leaders, ain’t so? Who among us could possibly pick the best replacement
for Paul Bontrager? And who would serve, or let her husband serve, if we allowed our
personal concerns and excuses to pile up?”

A lot of the women had lowered their eyes. Rosemary noticed, however, that no one
looked ready to challenge Abby’s opinion. Instead, each of them had been moved to
consider what she’d just said.

“Jah, my excuse pile gets mighty high some days,” Adah remarked.

“I’d be a lot better off if I let God do His job—every single day,” Zanna said from
her spot in the corner. “And it’s a gut thing I don’t have to pay His wages, too.
My rug money wouldn’t go far!”

Rosemary chuckled with the others. “It’s like when we take on caring for folks in
our extended families,” she ventured. “We can’t think about the cost—or the wages
that go by the wayside—in the case of a fellow being picked as a preacher. We trust
that God will see to everyone’s needs when we can’t and that He’ll provide us the
best opportunities to grow in our faith. Even when we don’t much feel like growing,
jah?”