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“Benjamin worries more than a grossmama.” Rosemary plucked another wood toy from behind the cushion on the couch. This one appeared to be a goat. “Phoebe’s here. She can give me a hand.”
“Ya,” Phoebe agreed, fighting tears. She missed her young son immensely, but somehow holding little James gave her comfort.
Spotting the toy in his mother’s hand, James wiggled in Phoebe’s arms and she reluctantly lowered him to his feet. “They walking yet?” she asked as she set him gently on his feet.
“Ya, since they were ten months,” Rosemary answered proudly. She waved Ginger and Nettie away. “Shoo. We’ll call you if we need you.”
Alone with Rosemary and the toddlers, Phoebe lowered herself to the polished, wide-plank wooden floor. “Would you like that goat, James? What a fine goat,” she cooed as he took it from his mother’s hand.
For a moment the two women were silent as they watched the boys play. The little ones jabbered to each other, but Phoebe could tell how close they were to speaking their first words. Her John-John had babbled the same way, practicing sounds before finding the words.
“You’re missing him?” Rosemary asked softly. “Your son?”
Her tone was so kind that again Phoebe had to struggle to contain her emotion. “Very much.”
“How old is he? It’s John, isn’t it?”
“Ya, John. But I call him John-John most of the time.” James dropped his toy goat, and Phoebe scooped it up and offered it to him, pretending to make it nibble on his chubby hand before she passed the toy to him. “He’s three now,” she said. It felt good to talk about him. About her cherished little boy that her family spent most of their time trying to ignore. Trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
“A happy child?” Rosemary pressed. “Easygoing?”
“Ya, and smart.” She looked up at her cousin, her eyes glistened. “And sweet. He’s already trying to be helpful. Just yesterday I was folding dishcloths and he wanted to help.” She chuckled at the memory. “He made a mess of it of course, but I let him try.”
“It’s the only way they learn,” Rosemary said, chuckling with her.
The women were both silent again for a moment, watching the boys play. Rosemary produced several more hand-carved wooden toys. They were unadorned with paint, but still beautiful and easily recognizable even to a child. There were two chickens, a cow and an animal that took Phoebe a moment to identify.
“Is that...is that a llama?” Phoebe asked, watching Josiah try to push the wooden animal beneath the pillow his mother rested her foot on.
“It’s an alpaca, a cousin of the llama.” Rosemary laughed. “Our vet, Albert Hartman, raises them. Lives over Seven Poplars way. Used to be Mennonite but now he’s Amish. Married to my friend Hannah. Anyway, Benjamin took the twins to see them a few weeks ago and our boys were fascinated. I’m just waiting for a trailer to pull up in the barnyard and for Benjamin to unload a herd of alpacas.”
Phoebe grinned at the idea.
“Apparently, they can be quite profitable,” Rosemary went on. “Or so Benjamin was telling me. I think he was trying to butter me up.”
This time, when the women fell into silence again, it was a comfortable one. All of Phoebe’s apprehensions about coming to Hickory Grove, her fears that her cousin and family would judge her for her past, were suddenly gone. For the first time in a very long time, she felt at peace. She felt God’s nearness and the belief that she was doing what He wanted her to do.
“I want you to know, Phoebe,” Rosemary said slowly, “that Benjamin and I think it was very brave of you to come here.” She met Phoebe’s gaze. “It was the right thing to do for your son.”
Phoebe gazed into her cousin’s green eyes. “It was kind of you to welcome me.” She hesitated. “Considering—”
“Considering what?” Rosemary asked, sounding annoyed with her. “You stumbled. Who of us hasn’t?”
Phoebe looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “It was more than a stumble. What I did was a sin.”
“Did you love the boy’s father?”
Phoebe was surprised by her cousin’s forthrightness, but she probably shouldn’t have been. Rosemary’s family, the environment she raised her family in, was so different than that of her own. “Ya,” Phoebe murmured, tears welling in her eyes, against her will. “I loved him, and he loved me. We had made plans to marry, John and I. He—” Her voice caught in her throat. She took a breath and went on. “He had put a deposit down on a farm. We were going to live near a creek,” she managed, remembering how happy she had been the day he had taken her in his wagon to see the property. “And then he...he died. A cave-in in his father’s silo.” She lifted her hands and let them fall into her lap. “And then I had John-John and that was that.”
“I understand what our preachers speak of, but don’t know that I believe that it’s ever a sin to love,” Rosemary said thoughtfully.
“Ne,” Phoebe argued, taking a toy sheep from the basket and offering it to James. “I sinned. We sinned.”
“And then you confessed before your bishop and your church,” Rosemary countered. “And no more need be said.”
Phoebe looked up and saw that Rosemary’s eyes were misty. And Phoebe knew in her heart of hearts that everything really was going to be all right.
Chapter Three (#u7d13ba64-4916-5017-8a57-c36d8c275e38)
Joshua looked up from where he was stacking wood in the wood box as his sister walked into the living room. He was on his knees beside the massive redbrick fireplace. With the cold snap, they’d been burning more wood than they would typically, and he wanted to be sure there was plenty for the evening. With their new guest in the house, he imagined that after supper, when the harness shop was closed and the animals settled for the night, the whole family would retire to the living room. Here, Rosemary and her daughters might knit or do some mending while Joshua, his father and brothers looked over seed catalogs or farm magazines. Tara would probably make popcorn, and they’d sit around together and talk. Someone might tell the family about an exciting or funny or sweet story about a customer at the harness shop. Someone else might relate the antics of one of the animals in the barnyard or news from their community. Occasionally their father would read a story from the Bible or relate a tale from his childhood in the wilds of Canada. It didn’t matter what they did or what they talked about—all that mattered was spending an hour or two together as a family. And Joshua wanted Phoebe to be able to experience the comfort of a crackling fire and the sense of wholeness he felt when he sat with his family here in the living room in the evening. Because something told him, something he saw in the depths of her blue eyes, that she didn’t have enough of that comfort in her life.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Bay Laurel stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips.
From out in the kitchen, he could hear the hubbub typical of that time of day. The women were bustling around the kitchen getting supper on the table, and the men were finishing up with chores, coming and going and settling the animals for the night. The house smelled of fresh bread baking and...contentment.
“I see you fetched Mam’s cousin.” She tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. When he’d entered the house a few minutes ago, his arms full of firewood, Phoebe was helping prepare supper with his sisters. She had been busy opening canning jars of spiced pears and apples. Rosemary’s table was never anything fancy, but the food was always hearty and some of the best he’d ever eaten.
“Ya, I picked Phoebe up at the bus station.” Joshua stacked two more logs in the wood box to the right of the fireplace. He’d chosen apple wood to burn this evening. It had come from one of the trees he and Jacob had cut down from the old orchard in the far northern corner of the property. He loved the smell of apple wood burning. He thought Phoebe might, too.
“Met her, did you? She’s nice,” he went on, not waiting for Bay to respond. “Smart, but not too serious. Not full of herself. And kind. She was helping an Englisher lady at the bus station when I got there. Not all girls would do that. Help a stranger. Did you get a chance to talk to Phoebe? Did you like her?”
“Ya.” Bay drew out the word. “I liked her well enough. Joshua, I was hoping we could get together today. Maybe after supper, once everything is cleaned up?”
He moved the last of the logs from the pile on a piece of tarp on the floor to the wood box, and then scooted over in front of the fireplace. He thought he’d go ahead and start the fire, so it would be burning well by the time the family gathered together in the living room.
“We’ll have to see about that,” he hemmed. It wasn’t that he wasn’t eager to sit down with Bay. He just wasn’t sure that tonight was the night for him and Bay to go off on their own. Not with this being Phoebe’s first night there. It wouldn’t be right for Bay and him not to be with the family. “Might have to be tomorrow. I told Levi that after morning chores, I’d give him a hand clearing out that section of the barn he and Datare making into a work space for their buggies. But after that...” He gave a nod, indicating there would be time then.
His father had been in the business of making harnesses and other leather goods since he was a young man. That experience had expanded into running a large retail shop here in Delaware. But Benjamin Miller had always had a place in his heart for buggy making. His grandfather had been a buggy maker. Now that he had boys old enough—and trustworthy enough, he teased them—he was interested in trying his hand at building buggies. He planned to build one for his family first, then maybe one for Rosemary’s married daughter, Lovage, whose family was growing. Joshua’s brother Levi was keen on the idea. Though Levi was a hard worker and good with leather, his heart wasn’t in the harness business, so he was eager to get the work space created so he and their father could start their first project.
Bay folded her arms over her chest. “Josh, we need to get all of our hens in a row before we go to your father with our plan. We need to go over the numbers. How much we plan to spend on seeds, how many plants that will yield. What we think we can sell them for—” she ticked off. “Everyone is in the potted plants business. I think we need to consider adding some indoor varieties—indoor plants folks can take in after the growing season. I know there’s a risk...”
Joshua nodded, trying to give his sister his full attention and not let his mind wander. But it was hard. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Phoebe. And not just about how pretty she was, but how much he liked her. How he’d liked her from the moment he first met her, the moment she’d spoken. Something was calming about her voice, something about her manner that just made him feel... He didn’t know how to describe it. She just seemed like no one else he knew. None of the young women he knew, at least. Most girls her age were so flighty and hard to have a real conversation with.
Not that he had a lot of experience with women, not his stepsisters, his age. Sure, he occasionally drove a girl home from a singing, the Amish version of a date. In July he’d taken his friend Caleb Gruber’s sister-in-law home from a taffy pull and then a picnic, but it hadn’t been anything serious. She’d gone back to Kentucky, and he heard she was courting a blacksmith’s son. But none of the girls he’d taken home were as mature as Phoebe. Not that she seemed old to him, though he suspected she was older than him by a year or two. She just seemed wiser than the young women he knew. More levelheaded.
“Do you know how old she is?” Joshua asked suddenly. “Phoebe, I mean.” It wasn’t until he spoke her name that he realized Bay must have still been talking.
The look on Bay’s face left no doubt in his mind. She narrowed her gaze. “If you’re not serious about wanting to build this greenhouse and garden shop with me, Josh, you need to tell me now. You need to—”
“No, no,” he interrupted, getting to his feet. “Of course I’m serious about it. And I want to add the lean-to onto the barn so we can sell our plants, I just...” He grabbed a bundle of kindling and went back to the fireplace.
“You just what?” Bay asked, taking on a stern tone of voice. She sounded like his older sister Lovey now. Lovey’s voice always changed when she became annoyed with someone. “What’s got you so preoccupied?” She lowered her voice. “What’s the reason for all this talk about Cousin Phoebe?”
He knelt on the redbrick hearth and began to stack the larger pieces of kindling on top of the smaller pieces, taking care to leave plenty of open space between them to allow the fire to breathe. “No...no reason,” he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He’d never felt this way about a girl the way he thought about Phoebe. Fluttery in his chest. He knew he was attracted to her. He’d been attracted to girls before, but this was different. This wasn’t just about a pretty face.
“You know she came here because she had to,” Bay intoned.
He concentrated on stacking the wood just right so the fire would catch on the first try. “I don’t care about that sort of thing. Men don’t care about gossip the way women do.”
“Joshua, it’s not—” She didn’t finish her thought.
Bay was quiet for a moment, quiet long enough that he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was still standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest again. She didn’t seem pleased with him, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. Did she really think he wasn’t serious about wanting to build the greenhouse? Sometimes it was hard to know what women were thinking.
Who was he kidding? He almost never knew.
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll go over the figures tomorrow. Supper’s about ready. You’d best wash up. You know how Mam is about coming late to the table.”
“Just about done here,” he answered, crumpling a piece of newspaper to push beneath the neatly stacked kindling.
He heard her turn to go, then stop in the doorway.
“Joshua,” she said softly. “It would be best if you didn’t—” She went quiet midsentence again.
“Best I not what?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
She shook her head. “Never mind,” she said. “Wash up.”
“Ya,” he answered, getting to his feet. He needed to clean up any mess he’d made, and then if he was quick he’d have time to get upstairs and not just wash his hands, but brush his hair, too. And maybe even put on a clean shirt. Not that his shirt was all that dirty, but there was nothing wrong with a man wanting to look his best at his parents’ supper table, was there?
“You were looking for me?” Joshua walked into the parlor where Rosemary was sitting on the couch, her foot in the black orthopedic boot, propped on a stool. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, the last from the pot that Tara had insisted he take when he’d cut through the kitchen in search of his stepmother. It was Jesse who had said his mam wanted to speak with him.
Rosemary looked up from the sock on her lap that she was darning. “Joshua.” She smiled at him and then snipped a thread that ran between the gray sock and her needle with a pair of scissors. “Come in. Fence ret up?”
After breakfast, his father had sent him to the corner of the north pasture to repair a sagging fence. It was his father’s belief that fences were best mended before the cows got out. It had been cold and windy outside, and Joshua’s hands had gotten stiff even though he’d worn work gloves. But he hadn’t minded tackling the task alone because it had given him some time to think. With such a large family, time alone wasn’t easily found, and he’d welcomed it. He’d spent a bit of time in prayer as he worked, then had run numbers in his head for the plans for the greenhouse. Eventually, his thoughts had drifted to Phoebe. He just couldn’t help himself. This morning she’d come down to breakfast not in the black everyday dress she’d been wearing when he’d picked her up at the bus station, but in a blue dress that looked just like one of his sisters’ dresses. In fact, he was fairly certain one of them had loaned or given it to her. In the blue dress, Phoebe’s eyes had seemed even bluer, her cheeks rosier. And she’d been smiling. Hockmut, or pride in English, wasn’t a good thing among the Amish. He hadn’t thought she was being prideful, only that the pretty, calf-length dress with her white apron made her feel happy. And happiness was never discouraged among their people.
“Fence is standing tall again,” he told Rosemary, reining in his thoughts. “It was bent coming into our pasture, not going out. Deer maybe? Population’s heavy this year and winter has come earlier.”
“Ya, I’ve seen them in the field with the horses at sunset.” She rolled the mended sock into its mate. “Looking for feed, I suppose.”
Joshua sipped from his mug. The coffee had cooled down but was still good. Black and nice and strong the way he liked it. “Ya, corn probably,” he agreed, feeling awkward. Except for church services, the parlor was more the women’s domain than the men’s. Especially since Rosemary had had her surgery. “Thought you were allowed to start walking.” He pointed to her foot.
“Just resting a bit before dinner. Your father thinks I’ve been on it too much. A little swelling, nothing more.” She gave a wave. “He worries too much.” She added the socks to a growing pile on the end table beside her and he watched her fish another pair from a basket at her feet. “I wanted to ask you a favor, Joshua.”
He stood a little straighter, slipping one hand into his pocket. He could smell the aroma of roasting turkey wafting from the kitchen. They were having turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy for dinner. With buttermilk biscuits. He couldn’t wait. “Sure. What do you need?”
“Edna and John Fisher are having a harvest supper for the young, single folks Friday night. Singing after, I hear. Are you going?”
Joshua raised his coffee mug to his mouth, thinking on the matter. “Ya, maybe. I have to see if—”
“Goot,” she interrupted. “Because I want you to ask Phoebe to go with you.”
Joshua had just taken a drink of coffee and the liquid caught in his throat. He coughed, then choked. “I’m sorry—” He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to catch his breath. More coughing followed, and he hoped coffee wouldn’t come out of his nose. That would be embarrassing.
“You all right?” Rosemary asked, looking up, concern in her voice.
“Fine,” he managed, still coughing. He reached for his handkerchief in his pocket. Gripping the mug in one hand, he used the other to wipe his mouth and then his nose—just to be certain. “You want me to—” He cleared his throat.
“Ask Phoebe to go with you, ya.” Rosemary was staring at him now.
“Um...”
“I suspect Tara and Nettie are going. And you know Ginger, she wouldn’t miss a singing where there are eligible young men for all the cake in the county.” She began to thread her darning needle again. “Who can say with Bay. She can be shy around boys her age.” She rolled her eyes. “Has no problem telling a customer what’s what, though, does she?”
Joshua sniffed and slipped his handkerchief back into his pocket. He blinked the tears from his eyes. Not knowing what to say in response to Rosemary’s comment about Bay, he didn’t say anything. It was true that Bay wasn’t much interested in courting, not the way Ginger was. But he figured Bay was like him, just not ready for that in his life. At least that’s what he’d thought until Phoebe arrived. And now...not that he thought she’d ever be interested in him. He’d found out that, as he had suspected, she was two years older than he was. But if she had been interested in him, he could see himself walking out with her. Of course, that would never happen. He kept reminding himself of that.
“Jacob will be going. I hear he’s sweet on Lovey’s neighbor. And Levi. He never misses a chance to eat.” She pushed a beanbag she used for darning into the toe of the sock and began to whipstitch the hole. “It would be nice for Phoebe to be included. You can all ride together.”
“Um...” He hesitated, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t ask Phoebe to go with him to the singing. What if she thought he meant it as a date? Usually, boys asked girls to ride home from singings as a way to spend time alone with them, but what if things were different where she came from? He wouldn’t want Phoebe to think he was interested in her.
Or would he?
“Why...you don’t think, um...one of the girls should invite her?” he asked, feeling completely off balance.
Rosemary looked up from her darning, meeting his gaze. “I asked you because she likes you.”
He held his breath. She liked him?
“She’s comfortable with you. Besides,” Rosemary went on, returning her attention to her darning needle, “I want her to go because Eli Kutz will be there. You know, the widower from Rose Valley. He’s chaperoning.” She smiled. “And I’m thinking he might make a fine husband for Phoebe.”
Phoebe pulled a wet towel from the laundry basket in the muddy grass, gave it a shake and hung it over the clothesline. It was the warmest day they’d had since she arrived in Hickory Grove, and she was glad to have a few moments to herself outside. The sun was shining. The air was crisp with the smell of wood smoke from the house and the fainter smell of apples not yet harvested from the orchard. The downside of the sudden increase in temperatures, however, was that the ice had melted, and it was muddy, meaning she had to take care with the laundry. Anything that touched the grass would be soiled and have to be washed again.
Reaching for a clothespin from the cloth bag hanging on the line, she eyed the woodshed. She’d spotted Joshua going in a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t come out. Once, she thought she’d caught a glimpse of him looking around the corner of the building in her direction, but there was no sign of him now. She wondered what he was doing in the woodshed. Organizing, maybe?
Smiling to herself, she grabbed another wet towel. He was a hard worker, that one. And kind. Particularly to her since her arrival. Everyone in the family had, of course, been welcoming. But Joshua was the one who time and time again made the extra effort to make her feel more comfortable in her new surroundings. He always made sure she knew what was going on in the family and how things were done. He did things like seeking her out to tell her what time family prayer took place. He explained to her that his father and brothers all liked their coffee very strong, preventing her from serving the weak coffee her stepfather preferred. He’d also made an effort to make her feel included in the day-to-day activities of the family, whether it meant inviting her to play checkers in the evening or explaining who was who during a lively conversation between his sisters about a new family who had just bought a farm nearby. He was such a thoughtful young man.
Despite missing her John-John so much that it physically hurt, Joshua was the one who made her feel as if coming to Hickory Grove was the right thing to do. And Rosemary and Benjamin’s twins. For some reason, the little boys had taken to her immediately and begun asking for her. With Rosemary trying to stay off her feet, and James and Josiah being so active, it had seemed only natural that Phoebe become their nanny of sorts. That was an Englisher word Rosemary had explained to her. It meant a woman who cared for another woman’s children. And Phoebe had embraced the job. She had been afraid spending so much time with the toddlers so close in age to her son would make her miss him more, but their sticky hugs and laughter actually eased the ache in her chest for her own child. And reminded her why she was here—to make a better life for herself and for him.
Feeling as if she was being watched, Phoebe looked up to see Joshua standing at the edge of the woodshed. They made eye contact and she smiled. He wasn’t wearing his Englisher sunglasses today so she could see his dark eyes. He hesitated, then started toward her. He was wearing a denim barn coat, a knit cap pulled over his head and shoes that were wet and caked with mud.
Phoebe looked down at the clunky knee-high rubber boots she’d borrowed from the laundry room. Bay had told her to find a pair that fit and wear them. She said she did it all the time. Phoebe grabbed a white bedsheet from the laundry basket. She hoped he didn’t think she looked foolish, but she’d been afraid if she didn’t wear the boots, she might have ended up with mud on the pretty blue dress Tara had given her. Phoebe had never had such a beautiful dress. In her stepfather’s home, the women all wore black even though the men wore colored shirts. She hadn’t been allowed to have buttons, either, not even hidden in her clothing. That was because women, her stepfather had explained, were far more likely to be drawn into the evils of adornment and couldn’t be trusted with blue or green dresses. Or buttons. The idea seemed silly to Phoebe, but no one in their home had ever been interested in her opinions on anything.
That included her belief that wearing a prayer kapp wasn’t always practical in a busy household, mainly because it had to be kept starched and pristine at all times. Evidently, Benjamin agreed with Phoebe because around his house, Rosemary and her daughters often wore a scarf instead of a prayer kapp. A lot of women in their church district did so, Ginger had explained to Phoebe. And then Tara had produced a scarf for indoor use for Phoebe and a heavier wool one for outdoors. The scarf provided modesty, but was also practical.
A sudden gust of wind came up and Phoebe gave a little cry as the bedsheet flew off the line. She grabbed the edge before it hit the grass, but then struggled to get control of it in the wind.
“Need some help?” Joshua called, hustling across the short distance between them.
Phoebe looked up at him through a tangle of white sheet and laughed. “Ya, because I’m determined not to get this one dirty again, else it will have to go back in the wash.”
Standing on the other side of the clothesline from her, he managed to grab a corner, then a second as the sheet whipped in the wind. “Got it!” He pulled his side down over the line and she did the same on her side.
“Danke.” She laughed, taking a handful of wooden clothespins. “A good day for doing laundry with the sunshine,” she told him as she clipped one pin after the other to secure the sheet to the line. “But a little tricky with the wind.”
He just stood there nodding.
“There we go.” She clipped the last clothespin securely.
“There we go,” he echoed.
