Read The Letters Online

Authors: Suzanne Woods Fisher

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Amish & Mennonite, #Bed and breakfast accommodations—Fiction, #FIC042040FIC027020, #FIC053000, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Amish—Fiction

The Letters (12 page)

BOOK: The Letters
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Luke sniffed appreciatively. “Do I get a leg?”

“Here you go. But save the wing for your brother.” Rose served him and passed the platter of goose meat as Bethany passed the gravy.

“The gravy would be better if it had more substance,” Mammi Vera said, peering into the gravy bowl. “Next time, add a little more flour.”

“The goose is cooked just right,” Jimmy Fisher said cheerfully.

Mammi Vera sniffed. “It’s passable.”

Bethany’s discomfort had taken a new turn. What must Jimmy Fisher think of them? The boys’ stomachs were
grumbling unpleasantly as they tore into their meal. They were practically inhaling their food; their stomachs were bottomless pits. Their plates began to look like graveyards of bones. Mammi Vera made caustic comments every chance she could, and Mim used a finger to capture the absolute last drop of honey that dripped off her biscuit. She reached out to kick Mim in the shin.

“Ooph!” Galen, sitting next to Mim, grimaced in pain. Bethany had kicked the wrong person. She kept her eyes lowered, suddenly fascinated by what was on her plate.

Mim, oblivious, looked up. “Does everyone know that honey is the world’s purest food?”

Her sister was always spouting off odd facts. Bethany had heard enough details on the subject to have already forgotten more than most people ever know about the properties of honey. “Yes, we all know that, Mim,” she said, to cut short the talk of honey.

“I didn’t,” Jimmy Fisher piped up.

“Mammi, you have some food on your chin.” Bethany reached over to wipe her grandmother’s chin with her napkin.

Luke reached out and grabbed a biscuit, then another.

“Do not bolt your food, Luke,” Bethany whispered. “Teeth are quite useful for chewing.” He was half wild, was Luke. Boys were.

Luke stuffed a biscuit in his mouth and talked around it. “Sammy and I are starting a business. Renting sheep. To make money.”

Galen tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow a grin. “Now, tell me what exactly can a sheep be taught to do?”

“Mow grass, for one,” Sammy said. “Warn you about snakes and coyotes and wolves.”

“And they can add fertilizer while they’re working,” Jimmy said. “No extra charge.”

Vera let out a cackle of a laugh, like the sound a hen might make if the hen were mad about something.

Luke turned to Galen. “A good sheep can be trained. I could train one to bring your mail up to your house.”

“Why not just train the goat?” Galen said. “He spends more time at my place than yours anyhow.”

Luke and Sammy looked at each other. “We could rent the goat!” Luke said. He turned to Galen. “Want to be our first customer?”

“I’ll give it some thought. I’m pretty busy now, though, with buggy training a green batch of Thoroughbreds. Jimmy is going to start working for me. Starting Monday.” Galen glanced at Jimmy. “Early.”

Sammy’s face lit up. “Jimmy, you’ll be able to come by here every day!”

Jimmy Fisher did that crazy up-down eyebrow wiggling at Bethany and she felt a flush creep up her neck.

“Rose, have you thought of giving a handle to your bed-and-breakfast?” Galen said.

“Like what?” Mim said.

“What about Eagle Hill?”

Everyone stilled. It was Delia Stoltz who volunteered that suggestion. She had been so quiet during dinner, they had practically forgotten she was there.

“Why, Eagle Hill is a fine name, Delia,” Rose said. “A wonderful choice.”

“It is
my
farm,” Vera added, her feathers ruffled. “Everyone seems to forget that.”

“Every farm needs a name,” Rose said.

Vera turned to Rose and narrowed her eyes.

“Now you’re taking over my farm. I can’t imagine what’s next. Maybe you’ll be the first woman bishop of Stoney Ridge.”

And a silence like cold, still air filled the kitchen.

Bethany could see Rose look at Vera for a moment, holding her peace.

Then Rose laughed and the tension was broken. “No, I don’t have aspirations to be a bishop, Vera. I’m having enough trouble with this tribe of wild Indians, right here.”

Bethany exhaled. Rose had a way of defusing a difficult situation; she never failed.

Vera sat there, sulky.

Bethany knew that look on her grandmother’s face. It was time to take action, before something worse happened. “Come, Mammi Vera,” Bethany said as she jumped up to help her grandmother rise to her feet. “You’ve been sitting all day. It’s bad for your circulation. You have to get up and walk around.” She caught Jimmy looking at her, then quickly away, as if she had caught him at something. She glanced around the table. “We’ll be out on the porch if you need us. Mammi needs fresh air.”

It was no great surprise to Rose to hear those kinds of remarks come out of her mother-in-law. Rose knew Vera wasn’t in favor of creating an inn in the basement, but she also knew Vera wasn’t in a position to make decisions about the farm’s future. She had no understanding of the dire financial situation they were in. She had always turned a deaf ear and blind eye to any talk or news about Schrock Investments and acted as if it was all too complicated for her.

Rose felt a flash of annoyance, most of it with herself. When Vera insinuated she was taking over the farm, she couldn’t disagree. Somebody had to steer this ship before it sank. Sometimes, she felt as if she had turned into another person, as if someone else walked around in her shoes. But the hardness Vera referred to was a result of dealing with the mess Dean had left behind.

As she dried the last dinner dishes and put them away, she hung the wet rag over the faucet and went to the window to see what was going on in the yard. Galen and Jimmy had the boys and Mim engaged in a game of horseshoes. Bethany and Naomi’s capped heads were together, talking earnestly. Vera was resting in her room. Delia sat on the porch step in the sunshine, head bent back, watching the sky. What was she looking at? Soon, Rose figured it out. Some kind of noisy drama in a tree. She watched one of the eagles descend like an arrow into the tree, and a flock of birds blasted into the air, filling it with strident, high-pitched squawking.

Eagle Hill was a fine name for the farm. No matter what Galen had said about the game commissioner and people nosing around, she considered it a blessing that an eagle couple had chosen it for their nest. She walked out to join Delia on the porch step. On the western horizon, the sun was a crimson orb, sinking into the treetops.

“The big one is Mrs. Eagle,” she said to Delia. “The smaller one is the mister.”

Delia had smiled at that and Rose felt pleased. Just as pleased that Delia had agreed to come for dinner, though she didn’t say much and she didn’t eat much—she just nibbled at her food.

“What kind of eagles are they?”

“See their white heads? That’s how you know they’re bald eagles. They’re a threatened species in Pennsylvania. Thankfully, they’re no longer an endangered species. It’s a wonderful comeback story. Things can get good again.”

Rose smiled and Delia gave her a curious look.

“Someday, I hope to get a porch swing out here,” Rose said. “Seems like porch swings are just as good for grown-ups as they are for children.”

Rose and Delia watched the eagles dip and dart above the row of pines that lined one edge of the driveway. A whole dancing flock of birds disappeared, dark little dots against the sky.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that your mother-in-law is a ball of fire,” Delia said.

Rose burst out laughing. “I don’t mind at all. You’re right. And she hasn’t been well lately. It’s made her an even hotter ball of fire.”

“Your eldest daughter is very patient with her. Goodness, she reminds me of an Egyptian servant girl, all but fanning your mother-in-law with palm fronds.”

Rose smiled. This, to Rose, was Bethany’s greatest gift—her patience and kindheartedness to Vera. Bethany was always showing care to Vera in special ways: giving her shampoos, rubbing lotion into her crepe-papery arms and legs, asking her questions about her life as a little girl. No wonder Vera adored her.

Delia brushed off her trousers. “Didn’t you go to church today?”

“It was an off Sunday,” Rose said. “We have church every two weeks. A good day for a big goose dinner.” She looked over at Delia. “I saw your car leave this morning. Did you go to church in town?”

“I did.”

That was all she had to say and Rose didn’t want to push her.

Delia stood up to leave. “Thank you for including me today.”

“I’m glad you came. We can be a noisy crowd.”

“Yes, but you’re a noisy crowd of love,” Delia answered.

To Rose’s surprise, she suddenly felt Galen listening to their conversation. Not just watching, but listening. When she turned her head and saw his eyes, she thought she caught a glint of something—amusement? Pity? She couldn’t tell.

It had to be admitted that Rose Schrock set a fine table. Naomi had been the one to accept the supper invitation of those two little rapscallions who came flying through the hedge to rap on the door. Galen wouldn’t ordinarily have done it, but then his life was no longer ordinary.

He barely walked in from feeding the stock when Naomi met him at the door with a fresh shirt and told him to clean up, because the neighbors were expecting them. He knew she was enamored by the Schrock girls, especially the eldest one, Bethany. Galen didn’t see the need for friends, but he understood that Naomi had a different point of view. “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she said, bossing him around like he was a child and she was the parent.

Next thing he knew, they were on their way to the Schrocks’. No sooner had they arrived, and Naomi and Bethany had put their heads together and twittered like little chickens.

Galen was relieved to see Jimmy Fisher, his new apprentice, at the house. Jimmy talked such a blue streak that Galen hoped he wouldn’t be expected to say much.

A month or so ago, Deacon Abraham had dropped by to ask Galen if he might consider taking Jimmy under his wing.

“And why would I do that?” Galen had asked him. He knew Jimmy Fisher, had known him for years. He was known as a fellow with a fondness for the ladies.

“I’m worried about the boy,” Abraham had explained. “He’s at a crossroads and I’m not sure he knows it.” Jimmy’s mother, Edith, had gone to visit her cousin in Gap while she happened to be in an off period in her on-again, off-again courtship with Hank Lapp. She met a widower in Gap and up and married him. Jimmy’s brother, Paul, was finally engaged and would be taking over the family chicken and egg business. “Jimmy Fisher is a boy with a lot of potential, none of it realized.”

“Why me?” Galen had asked.

“Haven’t you seen that boy’s love of horses? If you could give the boy some training, shape him, give him discipline, why, Jimmy Fisher might just amount to something.”

It took Galen quite a long time to get his head around the thought of taking on an apprentice. Especially Jimmy Fisher. But you didn’t say no to the deacon.

Galen had plenty of misgivings. Then he found out Jimmy had used firecrackers to flush out the snow geese from a wheat field and felt the first hint of interest in the boy. Most of Galen’s work with horses was to train hot-blooded, just-off-the-track Thoroughbreds to buggy work, and that included desensitizing them to the unexpected. An apprentice who knew about firecrackers might be useful—assuming Jimmy Fisher had enough sense to know when and when not to use them. That was his main worry about Jimmy Fisher. Did the boy have
any
sense? Until Galen had confidence in him, Jimmy would be carefully supervised.

When he was seated at the Schrock table, Galen was faced with more choices to eat than he had seen on a table for quite some time. His gaze swept down the table and stopped at Rose.

“This is my vermin stew, Galen,” Rose said, dishing a spoonful of vegetables for him.

“Oh?” he said politely. “What kind of vermin?”

Rose didn’t miss a beat. “Whatever the boys caught today in their traps.”

“It was a polecat,” one of the little boys said. He seemed as full of mischief as his mother.

“Now, Luke, don’t be giving away my recipes,” she said.

“I happen to love polecat,” Galen said, trying hard to be sociable. It was an unfamiliar labor, since he mostly worked at avoiding it. But he knew Naomi would be giving him the what for if he didn’t at least try to be friendly. Besides, she had promised they could leave as soon as dinner ended.

BOOK: The Letters
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