The Storekeeper's Daughter (4 page)

Naomi flung the door open and bounded into the kitchen. She screeched to a halt and stared at the floor.
“Was in der welt
—what in the world?” she gasped.

Mary Ann knelt in the middle of the room and looked up at Naomi with tears in her eyes. “Me and Nancy woke up and were hungry. We’re feelin’ better and wanted to make ginger cookies.”

Streaks of flour dotted the little girl’s face and pinned-up hair, which made the otherwise mahogany tresses look as though they were splattered with gray. The floor was littered with broken brown eggshells mixed with runny yellow yolks, and a sack of flour had been dumped in the middle of the mess.

Naomi’s gaze traveled across the room where Nancy stood at the sink with a sponge in her hand. “What happened here?”

“Everything was goin’ okay ’til Mary Ann dropped the carton of eggs,” Nancy huffed. “I was haulin’ the flour over to the cupboard and slipped.” She lifted her chin. “The flour spilled and landed on Mary Ann’s head, and it’s all her fault.”

Naomi groaned. Nancy was four years older than Mary Ann and usually managed fairly well in the kitchen. She also tended to be a bit bossy where the younger ones were concerned.
Why did I allow myself the luxury of falling asleep at the creek? For that matter, why did I go there in the first place? Now I’m paying the price for my desire to spend a little time alone.

A piercing wail shattered the air, and she whirled around. It was Zach hollering from his playpen in the adjoining room.

“The boppli’s awake,” Mary Ann announced.

“Jah, I know the baby’s awake, but I can’t go to him now.” Naomi lifted her arms, covered in mud. “I’ve been stung by a swarm of bees.”

“Oh, Sister, you look so
elendich
!” Nancy cried. It was obvious she hadn’t even noticed Naomi’s condition until now.

Naomi nodded. “I’m sure I do look pitiful, but I feel even worse than I appear.”

“Are you gonna help us bake ginger cookies?” Mary Ann asked, scooping up a handful of eggshells.

“No.” Naomi tried to keep her voice steady and calm. There was no point getting upset and yelling at her sisters. It wasn’t as if they’d made the mess on purpose. “I need to tend these bee stings.”

Naomi opened the cabinet door above the sink, grabbed a box of baking soda and her bottle of medicine. “I’m going upstairs to the bathroom. While I’m gone, one of you needs to clean this mess, and the other can get the baby before he tries to climb out of his playpen.” She pointed toward the living room where Zach still screamed. “When I get back, I’ll see about gettin’ the little guy diapered and fed.” Naomi hurried out of the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, she reentered the room, only this time her face and arms were covered with baking soda instead of mud. She stopped inside the door. The mess had been cleaned, and Zach was in his highchair eating a cracker; but her brothers Matthew, Norman, and Jake sat at the table, dripping wet.

“
Ach,
my! You’re gettin’ water everywhere!” Naomi shouted. “What are you three doin’ in here anyways?”

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs outside, and we sure couldn’t keep on plowing the fields in this kind of weather,” Matthew answered. His dark brown hair was plastered against his head like a soggy leaf, and his cheeks were as red as a raspberry. At the moment, he looked like a little boy rather than a twenty-two-year-old man.

“That’s right; it’s a real downpour out there,” Norman agreed. “If it keeps up for long, we’ll have us a flood, and that’s for certain sure.” He raked his fingers through his hair, almost the same color as Matthew’s and just as wet. A spray of water splattered onto the table, and Norman grinned at Naomi, kind of sheepishlike.

“What happened to you, Sister? You look awful,” Jake commented. The seventeen-year-old had recently celebrated his birthday; but soaked to the skin and with his hair in his face, he, too, looked like an overgrown child.

“I had a run-in with some bees.” Naomi glanced at the clock above the refrigerator. It was half past four. Samuel should have been home from school by now. She ran to the back door and flung it open. No sign of her little brother—just pouring rain and jagged lightning.

She spun around to face her brothers. “One of you needs to go after Samuel. He’ll catch his death of pneumonia if he walks home in this terrible weather. Besides, he could be hit by lightning.”

“It wonders me so that you’re such a worrywart. Why, a little rain won’t kill the boy, and he’s sure smart enough to stay out from under a tree if lightning were to strike.” Matthew reached for a wad of napkins and swiped them across his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jake’s blond head bobbed up and down. “I can’t begin to tell ya how many times I walked home from school in the rain when I was a boy.”

Zach let out another ear-piercing yelp, and Naomi thought she was going to scream. Wasn’t there a single person in her family who cared about anyone but himself?

She clapped her hands together and stomped one foot. “Now listen to me! One of you had better go after Samuel—now!”

Matthew blinked, then turned to face Norman. “Guess the boss means business, Brother. Get the buggy hitched, schnell!”

“Okay, I’m goin’.” Norman pushed his chair away from the table. He sauntered past Naomi but halted when he got to the back door. “You’d better have supper started before Papa gets home. He won’t like it if he shows up expectin’ to eat and nothin’s ready.”

Naomi had taken as much as she could stand. She grabbed a wet sponge from the sink, took aim, and pitched it at her brother. It hit its mark, landing in the center of Norman’s back.

He didn’t seem the least bit affected but merely chuckled and marched out the door.

“Brothers!” Naomi hollered. She hurried over to Zach, scooped him into her arms, and headed upstairs.

Caleb couldn’t believe how hard it was raining. When he left for town to get supplies a few hours ago, the weather had been warm and sunny. By the time he left Zook’s Tool Shop, a noisy thunderstorm churned across the sky, dropping buckets of rain. He’d planned to stop by Fisher’s General Store and see if he could catch Naomi alone, but now he thought it would be best to go straight home. Besides, judging from the time on his pocket watch, Abraham’s store was probably closed.

Speaking softly to his four-year-old gelding, Caleb stood near the front of the buggy and stroked the horse’s ear. “I don’t like storms any better than you, but we need to be gettin’ home.”

The horse snorted and nuzzled Caleb’s arm. He patted the animal’s head and hopped into his open carriage.

“Sure wish I’d driven one of Pop’s closed-in buggies today,” Caleb mumbled. “By the time we get home, we’ll both be near drowned.” He pulled the brim of his straw hat down and leaned into the wind. From the way the rain pelted the ground, there might be some flash flooding in the area.

Caleb drove the horse and buggy as fast as he could. He’d only gone a short ways, when he came upon a gusher of muddy water running over the road and into a nearby field. Several cars had pulled onto the shoulder, obviously stalled.

“Guess there’s some good in us Amish usin’
real
horsepower. At least my buggy’s got no engine to peter out on me.”

By the time Caleb reached the halfway point between the town of Paradise and his folks’ farm, the floodwaters had become a hazard. He noticed a herd of horses owned by one of the English farmers who lived in the area. They stood up to their flanks in a lake of murky, brown water.

Caleb wondered if the pond at the back of his folks’ farm might be flooded, too. If it was, Pop would need Caleb and his brothers to put the animals in the barn.

Moving on down the highway, Caleb spotted a closed-in buggy sitting on the shoulder of the road. He swiped his hand across his rain-drenched face and squinted. It looked like Abraham Fisher’s horse and buggy. Was something wrong? Were the Fishers stranded? Maybe they’d had an accident.

Caleb guided his horse to the edge of the road and stopped behind the rig. He jumped down and sprinted around to the right side, where he knew the driver would be sitting. When he peered through the window, his heart lurched. Abraham Fisher was hunched over, his head leaning against the front of the buggy, but there was no sign of Naomi or her baby brother.

Caleb grasped the handle and opened the door. Abraham didn’t budge, although he could see by the rise and fall of the man’s shoulders that he was still breathing.

“Abraham, can ya hear me?” Caleb touched the storekeeper’s shoulder. There was no response, so he shook the man’s arm.

Naomi’s father jerked upright. “Ach
,
my! What are ya doin’, boy?”

“I thought you might be hurt or had broken down.”

Abraham yawned. “I ain’t hurt—just pulled over to take a little nap. With the rain comin’ down so hard, it was gettin’ difficult to see, and since I’ve been minding the store by myself most of the week, I was feelin’ kind of tired.”

“You’ve been at the store by yourself?” Caleb’s mouth dropped open like a broken hinge. “But I came by on
Mondaag
, and Naomi was helping you.”

Abraham grunted. “Jah, well, Monday was the only day I had my daughter’s help. She’s been home the rest of the week, takin’ care of her sick sisters.”

“Everything’s okay with you then?”

The storekeeper frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Like I was sayin’ ... I saw your buggy pulled to the side of the road and figured I’d better stop and see if you were hurt or anything.”

“Except for bein’ tired, I’m right as rain.” Abraham shook his head. “Sure hope this storm lets up soon. It’s gonna cause a passel of trouble if the creeks and ponds should flood.”

Caleb didn’t bother to tell Abraham about the swamped farm he’d already seen. He figured it would be best if they both headed for home. He tapped the side of Abraham’s door. “Guess I’ll be on my way then. Glad you’re not hurt.” The only response was a muffled murmur.

When the door shut, Abraham took up the reins.

Caleb hurried to his own buggy, shaking his head. The storekeeper hadn’t even said thanks.

Naomi stood at the kitchen sink with a sponge in her hand. She needed to hurry. They’d soon be leaving for Sunday church at the Beechys’ house.

At least the swelling from my bee stings has gone down,
she mused.
I no longer look like a bumpy old horny toad. The floodwaters have gone down, too, and it’s not raining. That’s something to be thankful for on this Lord’s Day.

Naomi washed each dish in one container, then rinsed it in another. As she finished, the dishes were placed in the draining rack for Nancy to dry and put away. Every step was done with attention, adding up to a simple, unspoken task performed after each and every meal. Strangely enough, Naomi found this ritual comforting. It gave her time to think and sometimes pray.

“Baby Zach’s hollerin’. Want me to get him out of the playpen?”

Nancy’s question drew Naomi’s thoughts aside, and she whirled around. There stood Zach, gripping the playpen rails with slobbery hands while tears streamed down his chubby cheeks.

“I’ll tend the baby,” Naomi told her sister. “All but two cups and three plates have been washed, so you can finish those and get them dried and put away. Hopefully, we’ll all be ready to go by the time Papa gets the horse and buggy hitched.”

“Why can’t I take care of the boppli while you finish the dishes?” Nancy asked with a lift of her chin.

Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Naomi contemplated her sister’s suggestion. Finishing the dishes would be much easier than trying to calm Zach, who probably had a dirty diaper. Even though she wasn’t looking forward to changing it, she knew she could get the job done quicker than Nancy.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but I think it would be best if I get the baby.”

A look of disappointment flashed across Nancy’s face, but she slid over to the sink and grabbed the sponge without a word.

Naomi hated to be in charge of her younger siblings, always telling them what to do and sometimes handing out discipline when it became necessary. That was supposed to be a mother’s job.

Naomi dried her hands on a terry cloth towel and went to get her baby brother. Zach quit crying the minute she picked him up, and after a quick check of his diaper, she was relieved to see there was no need for a change. How glad she would be when the boppli was potty trained and no longer needed to wear
windels.

Zach squealed and kicked his hefty legs as she carried him across the room. Apparently, all the little guy wanted was to be out of his playpen.

Naomi hugged her little brother. “You’re gettin’ mighty spoiled, ya know that?”

“Guess that’s because he’s so
lieblich
,” Nancy put in.

“Jah
,
he’s adorable all right.” Naomi nuzzled the boy’s cheek with her nose. “Adorable and spoiled rotten.”

She took a seat in the rocking chair near the fireplace and rocked Zach as she sang a silly song she had made up. “Spoiled little baby, you’re awfully cute. You’re sure to grow up happy and loved to boot.”

Zach giggled as she tugged gently on his soft earlobe.

Nancy placed another dish in the cupboard when the back door swung open. Papa entered the kitchen, followed by Samuel.

“A sly old fox was in the chicken coop last night,” Samuel announced.

“How do ya know that?” Nancy asked.

“We found evidence of it ... several dead chickens,” their father said with a frown.

“Papa’s gonna set a trap for the scoundrel,” Samuel added excitedly.

“I hope you’re plannin’ to set it someplace where the kinner won’t get hurt,” Naomi said.

Papa moved toward the rocker, and his blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t ya think I’ve got brains enough to know how to set a trap without taking the chance of one of my youngsters gettin’ injured?”

Tears stung the back of Naomi’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. “I—I meant no disrespect, Papa.”

He fingered the tip of his beard. “Jah
,
well, your mamm never questioned my decisions when she was alive.”

There he goes again—comparing me to Mama.

“Is everyone ready for church?” Papa asked, changing the subject.

“I think so,” Naomi replied.

Papa studied Nancy. “Where’s your head covering?”

She pointed to the back of a chair.

“Put it on now. Mary Ann’s already in the buggy, and the older boys left a few minutes ago in Matthew’s rig.”

Nancy shut the cupboard door, grabbed her kapp off the chair, and scampered outside.

Papa glanced at Samuel, who had taken a seat at the kitchen table. “Get your lazy bones up and hightail it out to the buggy. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late.”

Samuel jumped up, grabbed his hat from a wall peg, and made a beeline for the door.

Papa turned to Naomi again. “If your mamm were here, the kinner would be ready for church on time—with their head coverings in place.”

Naomi stood, positioning Zach against her hip. “Papa, why do you always compare me to Mama?”

He blinked as though surprised by her question. “I ain’t comparin’ you, and I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Feeling the need for comfort, Naomi hugged the baby. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

He cleared his throat but said nothing in return. For a minute, Naomi thought she saw a look of tenderness cross her father’s face, but it disappeared as fast as it had come.

Oh, please, Papa. Can’t you just say, “I love you, Naomi, and I appreciate all you do?”

“You got the boppli ready to go?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s be off.”

Caleb paced back and forth along the side of Beechy’s barn, where twenty buggies were already parked. He’d seen Mathew, Norman, and Jake Fisher arrive awhile ago, so he figured Naomi and the rest of the family wouldn’t be far behind.

Caleb hadn’t seen Naomi since he stopped by Fisher’s General Store on Monday, so he’d had nearly a week to come up with a plan. He hoped to speak with Naomi about it today. If he could get her alone for a few minutes, that is.

“Hey, Caleb, how’s it going?”

At the sound of Aaron Landis’s deep voice, Caleb turned around. Aaron tipped his head and grinned.

“It’s goin’ okay. How ’bout with you?”

“Things are great with me and Katie.” Aaron slapped Caleb on the back. “We just found out she’s gonna have a baby in late November.”

Caleb clasped his friend’s hand. “Congratulations. I know you’ll make a gut daed.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and his dark eyes twinkled in the sunlight. “Sure hope so. Katie and me want a whole houseful of kinner.”

Caleb only nodded in reply.

“Well, I should go see how Katie’s feelin’ before we go inside for church. She’s had the morning sickness real bad.”

“Tell her I’m happy to hear your news,” Caleb said, forcing a smile.

“Sure will.” Aaron ambled off in the direction of the women gathered on the Beechys’ front porch. No doubt about it—Aaron was one happy man.

I wonder if I’ll ever have a wife or a boppli
.

Naomi took a seat on a backless bench near the kitchen door. She wanted to be close to an exit in case Zach started to fuss. At the moment, the child was sitting quietly on her lap, but Naomi had a box of baby crackers tucked inside a wicker basket in case he got hungry. The basket also contained a stack of diapers, a change of clothes for the baby, and a bag of dried fruit for Nancy or Mary Ann if they became restless. Naomi knew the worship service would last a good three hours, and it was hard for the younger ones to sit so long.

She glanced across the room and noticed Caleb sitting on the men’s side between his younger brothers, Andy and Marvin. He smiled, but she looked away. No use giving him hope she might care for him. If they couldn’t court, Caleb should find someone else. Naomi didn’t expect him to wait until she was free of her responsibilities to the family. Matthew was Caleb’s age, so if he ever got over his shyness around women, he might find a suitable wife soon. Norman was nineteen and not far behind; but Jake, Nancy, Samuel, and Mary Ann still had several years before they could marry.

Naomi jerked her hand when Zach bit down on her thumb.
And then there’s the boppli, who won’t be ready for marriage for another eighteen years or so.

Tears stung the backs of her eyes.
By then I’ll be so old nobody will want to marry me.

She reached into the basket and withdrew a cracker. At least Zach wouldn’t be chomping on her thumb anymore.

Such a week this has been,
she mused. First, her sisters had gotten sick and she’d stayed home from the store to care for them. Next, that horrible encounter with the bees. Then, Mary Ann and Nancy’s egg and flour mess, followed by the brothers coming into the kitchen, dripping wet.
I don’t know how Mama managed so well.

Naomi’s thoughts went to Papa.
Why must he always compare me to Mama? I try my hardest to please him, but nothin’ ever seems to be good enough.

A familiar lump lodged in her throat, and she swallowed against the constriction.

“ ‘I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content,’” Bishop Swartley quoted from the book of Philippians. Crippled with arthritis and in his eighties, the man could still preach and lead the people, even if he did often repeat the same verse of scripture.

Naomi closed her eyes.
Help me, Lord, for I’m still havin’ trouble learning to be content.

When church was over, Naomi stepped outside. As she stood on the front porch, Zach clung to her neck while he wrapped his legs around her waist. Naomi held him tightly and inhaled. The trees and grass were such a deep green, and everything smelled clean and new after the rain they’d had a few days ago. A group of children gathered to play in the yard, including her three younger siblings.

Naomi had only a few minutes to savor the peaceful scene, for it was time to help with the meal. She sighed and turned toward the door.

“Why don’t you let me hold the little one awhile?” Anna Beechy spoke up from her rocking chair on the front porch.

With a grateful heart, Naomi handed Zach to the elderly woman. Anna smiled as she snuggled the boy. She had a special way with the kinner
.
After all, she’d raised ten of her own and now had twenty-five grandchildren. Naomi knew she was leaving her baby brother in capable hands, so she headed into the house and busied herself with pouring coffee and serving bowls of bean soup to the menfolk.

When the meal was over, the men meandered into the yard, breaking into groups so they could visit, play horseshoes, or relax under the shady maple trees.

Naomi shook her head when she noticed her dad already nodding off. He’d been doing that a lot since Mama’s passing, and it worried her some. Was Papa dealing with his depression by napping so much, or was he simply tired from not sleeping well at night?

Directing her focus back to the meal, she ushered her sisters to a table and took a seat on the bench between them. She’d just finished her bowl of soup when she looked out the window and noticed Emma Lapp across the yard, standing near one of the open buggies.

Naomi squinted. Was that Caleb Hoffmeir Emma was talking to? She squeezed her napkin into a tight ball and clenched her teeth. Was Caleb asking Emma to tonight’s singing? Would he be taking her home in his courting buggy? A pang of jealousy stabbed Naomi’s heart as she imagined the couple beginning to court.

Caleb’s only doing what I told him to do,
she reminded herself.
I really can’t fault him for that.

“Naomi, did ya hear what I said?”

“Huh?” Naomi forced her gaze away from Caleb and Emma, turning her attention to Mary Ann.

“I’m full now. Can I go play?” The child pointed to her empty plate.

Naomi nodded. “Jah, you ate well. Run along, but don’t be gettin’ into any trouble, ya hear?”

“I won’t.” Mary Ann scrambled off the bench and hurried outside.

Naomi glanced at Nancy. “You about done, too?”

Nancy crammed another piece of bread in her mouth and mumbled, “Am now.”

“Okay, you can go.”

Nancy bounded away, and Naomi scanned the yard once more. Caleb and Emma were gone.

Probably snuck off somewhere to be alone.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she wouldn’t give in to the threatening tears.

When Naomi felt someone touch her shoulder, her eyes snapped open. Emma smiled and dropped to the bench beside her. “I’ve got a message for you. It’s from Caleb,” she whispered.

Naomi’s mouth went dry, and she quickly reached for her glass of water.

Emma leaned closer. “He wants you to meet him at the pond behind the house.”

“Is that what the two of you were talkin’ about out there by Caleb’s buggy?”

Emma’s pale eyebrows furrowed. “Of course. What’d ya think we were talkin’ about?”

“I—uh—never mind.”

Emma adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses and stared at Naomi. “You didn’t actually think—” She giggled. “I’m not romantically interested in Caleb, if that’s what you were thinkin’.”

“Well...”

“Go to him, Naomi.”

Naomi shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve got to keep an eye on Mary Ann, Nancy, and Samuel, not to mention little Zach.”

“The last time I saw your baby brother, he was asleep on the Beechys’ couch.” Emma nodded toward the yard. “As far as the other kinner are concerned, I’ll watch out for them while you’re gone.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course. Now be off with you.”

Caleb hunkered near the edge of the water, watching a pair of mallard ducks float past.
Will Naomi show up? Did Emma deliver my message?

A twig snapped, and Caleb turned his head. “You came.”

Naomi smiled and he stood. “I can’t stay long,” she said breathlessly. “My daed might come lookin’ for me if I’m gone too long.”

Caleb motioned to a grassy spot beneath a white birch tree. “Should we have a seat?”

She shook her head. “The grass is still damp from that awful storm we had on Friday.”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to stand then.”

“What’d you want to talk to me about?”