Chapter Forty-One
Priscilla bit her bottom lip and stared at the recipe she’d written down, not quite sure how to triple the brown sugar, which was simply to be measured “with a liberal hand.”
“Priscilla, it’s after midnight. Are you coming to bed?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Joseph as he stood, his black pants slung on over his bare, lean waist and his dark hair rumpled invitingly.
She sighed and shook her head. “I promised Frau Umble that I’d make apple dumplings for the funeral, and I’m going to do it. I wrote down what I can remember of my mother’s recipe—I’m trying to figure out how to measure, that’s all.”
He came forward and slid his hands down her shoulders and pressed his mouth against her neck. She tried to swat him away with a floury hand but he only laughed.
“Come to bed, my sweet. I’ll make it worth your while . . . Besides, there’ll be plenty of food anyway.”
“Joseph . . . I loved her.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”
“I’m baking—it’s not that difficult.”
“
Jah
, but you’re . . .”
“I’m what?” She looked up at him, putting a hand on her hip.
“Nothing . . .”
“What were you going to say?” She felt suspicious suddenly when he dropped his gaze. “Joseph?”
She watched him glance at his
daed
’s bedroom door; then he looked her in the eye. “All right,” he whispered. “I wanted to wait—but you’re, well, you’re pregnant.”
She blinked at him. He looked so handsome, his face filled with suppressed excitement, she didn’t have the heart to disappoint him.
“What?” She dropped her spoon with a clatter and he caught her close against his chest.
“Grossmudder May told me before she passed. She said it was a secret, but you should know so you don’t overdo.”
He dropped to his knees suddenly and pressed his mouth against her belly. “
Ach
, Priscilla. I love you so much.” She stared at his bent head and ran her hands through his hair.
“Well,” she murmured, glancing at the mixing bowls and the sugar. “I suppose I could get up really early . . .”
He got to his feet and swept her up in his arms. “We’ll both get up early—I’ll help you.”
“All right. Now what were you saying about making things worth my while?”
She loved how his eyes simmered with passion as he bent to kiss her, using his tongue to foray gently against her lips, then moaning deep in his throat when she allowed him access. He crossed to their bedroom door in long strides and was better than his word at making the night worth her while . . .
At five a.m., Joseph was up to his elbows in flour. He wasn’t about to wake Priscilla and had decided that baking apple dumplings couldn’t be all that difficult. He was frowning over the addition of vinegar to the milk on the recipe card when the front door eased open and Edward walked in.
Joseph eyed his
bruder
’s tousled appearance then looked back at Priscilla’s handwriting. “Are you drunk?” he asked softly.
“Nee.”
Edward shook his head. “I’ve been walking and thinking most of the night. Sarah won’t have anything to do with me anymore, Joe.”
Joseph stirred the milk and vinegar and remembered Sarah’s words at the cabin.
A demon holds him . . .
“Well, maybe she doesn’t feel there’s been much to give her hope lately where you’re concerned.”
Edward hung his head. “I know that. I guess I expected her to wait and . . . well, wait.”
“For what?”
“For me. I know it sounds arrogant, but I thought we had enough of an understanding . . . Well, never mind. It’s probably for the best. What are you doing?”
“Making apple dumplings for the funeral. Priscilla’s still asleep . . .” He drifted off, not wanting to explain why she was so tired.
“I’ll help. I’m a
gut
hand at pastry.”
Joseph raised a doubtful brow.
“Really, Joe. Grossdaddi taught me. Do you remember that I spent a lot of time with him when you and I were young?”
“I guess so,” Joseph said, trying to remember
. I wish you’d spent a little less time with him if he’s the one who also taught you to drink . . .
But Joseph didn’t want to discourage his
bruder
so he concentrated on blending the flour and milk while Edward washed his hands.
Then they both took to peeling and paring the apples—sour crab apples that made the best dumplings with plenty of brown and white sugar added.
There was something soothing about the process, and Joseph rejoiced in this moment of accord with Edward.
“How’s your face feel?” Edward asked after a few minutes.
“How’s it look?” Joseph turned toward the lamp.
“Much better. I really am sorry, Joe.”
“No worries. It gave me time to be with Grossmudder May when she passed.”
“I heard at the store that you were with her. The only person I ever saw die was Grossdaddi—I ran and hid in a cave by the creek that day.”
Joseph frowned at him. “You couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. I didn’t know you were with him alone.”
Edward shrugged. “I never told anybody.”
Pieces started to fall into place in Joseph’s mind as he considered Edward’s restless life and various troubles, and something niggled about their grandfather—something that seemed important for him to remember . . .
A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he looked up in surprise. Edward went to open the door and Joseph was even more surprised to see Sarah standing in the early light of dawn.
“Sarah.” Edward whispered her name.
Joseph sighed to himself.
I’ll have to leave them alone, I suppose . . .
“
Nee
, Joseph,” Sarah said, reminding him eerily of Grossmudder May. “Please don’t go. It’s you I came hoping to see.”
Edward swept his arm back with a flourish. “Then by all means,
kumme
in, Sarah Mast. I’ll leave.”
Joseph felt distinctly uncomfortable when Sarah didn’t protest and Edward grabbed his hat and walked out.
Joseph cleared his throat. “What can I do for you, Sarah?”
“Do you know why I said I no longer wanted to see Edward?”
He shook his head. “I can guess, but
nee
, I don’t know for sure.”
“Well, it affects you and everyone on this mountain, all of us.” Her big gray eyes welled with tears and Joseph shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“How so?”
She shook her head. “Edward apparently wrote to someone at the mining company where you worked. He actually went so far as to invite them to Ice Mountain to do geological testing.”
“The gas rigs?” Joseph frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand either. I only know that Edward has changed so much from the boy he used to be.”
“I’ll try and talk to Edward, Sarah. That’s about the best I can do.”
“Danki,”
she said and turned to go. “Oh, and Joseph, your first batch of apple dumplings are going to burn, so you’d better make extra dough.”
He nodded and she left.
Great. Just great. I’ve got an errant
bruder
, and his girlfriend happens to use her powers for
gut
to tell me my dessert is going to burn.
He turned as Priscilla wandered out into the kitchen.
“Joseph, do I smell smoke?”
Priscilla held Hollie’s hand and glanced down at the neat white part in the little girl’s hair. It was the
Amisch
way, Joseph had explained, not to shield children from death. And certainly Hollie had asked enough after Heath’s death to understand some of the concept, not that Priscilla even felt she understood it fully herself. But even baby Rose was in attendance at the small graveyard near the foot of the pines for Grossmudder May’s burial.
All of the community was dressed in their finest Sunday wear, and the bishop stood, holding his hat in his hands, once they’d all filed past the half-open coffin to say one last good-bye. Then the two lids of the coffin were closed and Bishop Umble began to speak.
“Part of living is dying . . . but for many of us, the idea of death has to be approached like very cold water. In other words, we put a toe into the thought of death, then pull back, feeling like we’ve got all the time in the world in which to adjust. Then we might get a whole foot in, stand ankle deep, and come to have some sense that who we are in this world will not last forever. But even then, we move away from the idea of death—it’s not comfortable. Well, Grossmudder May knew when her time was coming—a gift from Derr Herr, she would call it. She knew and she faced it, faced it with the help of an
Amisch
man, Joseph King here. And we can only hope that we might face our own time with equal grace. Let us have a moment of silent prayer.”
Priscilla closed her eyes and listened as a soft breeze stole gently through the pines. For some reason, she thought of her father’s letter to her. She’d been trying to put it out of her mind for some time, but now, standing next to the open grave, she realized how short life truly is
.I want to forgive him. Help me, God. I want to forgive my father.
She looked up, startled, when Joseph slid a comforting arm around her waist and began to lead her and Hollie away from the grave and back toward Grossmudder May’s cabin, where the community would meet to remember their healer together.
Priscilla glanced back once and knew she had left her anger at her father far behind at the foot of the pines.
Chapter Forty-Two
A few days following the funeral, Joseph realized he’d still not been able to find time to talk with Edward alone about Sarah’s concerns. First, he and Priscilla had gone down the mountain to get Mr. Ellis to drive them to see Dr. McCully, who’d happily confirmed the pregnancy. And now they were preparing for a picnic supper to let the family know about the new baby.
“Priscilla,” Joseph said, watching her fry chicken with an easy hand, “I wonder if I shouldn’t take Hollie out for a walk or something. I think I’d like to tell her our
gut
news alone, so she won’t feel lost when we announce it this afternoon at the picnic.”
“Oh, Joseph, I’ve been trying to think of a special way to tell her. Coming from you would be that something special, and I know it would be wonderful for you to tell her.”
“Tell who what?” Abner asked, coming into the kitchen with an appreciative sniff.
“Never mind, Dat. You’ll find out soon enough.” Joseph laid a hand on his
fater
’s shoulder as the older man tried to pick some frying crumbles from the grease and Priscilla slapped his hand away.
Both men laughed, but Priscilla shook her head at them. “Too many cooks in the kitchen . . .”
Abner sighed. “Well, I’m going fishing. Bound to starve if I don’t, but I’ll be back by two or thereabouts.”
Joseph saw his
daed
out the door, then lifted his own straw hat from its hook. “I’ll go find Hollie.”
He found her in the hay mows, lying on her side, the faithful Bear beside her as they both watched a new mother barn cat wash her kittens.
“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered in excitement. “Look!”
Joseph smiled.
Here’s a Gott-given opportunity to explain things to her . . .
“It’s a fine sight,
kind
. Tell me, which one do you think she loves most?”
Hollie looked affronted, as he’d expected her to do. “Why, you don’t know anything about being a mommy . . . She loves them all the same, of course.”
“You’re right, sweetling. You’re so right. So it doesn’t matter to her which one came first or second or third?”
“Nope.”
“Well, if this mama barn cat can do such a
gut
job of loving more than one baby, how do you think your own
mamm
and
dat
would do?” He watched her small face as her quick brain processed, and loved looking at her.
“Wait a minute . . . Are you and Mommy going to have a baby?”
“Yep.”
“Whoopee!” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight, then pulled back to look him in the face. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
He laughed out loud. “I don’t know,
kind
.”
“Well, when is she gonna have it?”
“We figure around next year in March.”
Next year in the spring. Dear Gott, how my life will have changed from one year to the next . . .
“Next yeeeaarrr!” Hollie moaned, looking crestfallen. “That’s a long time away.”
“
Ach
, but it takes that long for Gott to knit the baby together in your
mamm
’s belly.”
“God knits?” Hollie wrinkled her nose in doubt.
“
Jah
, He does. It says so in the Bible and He knit you and me and your
mamm
together into a family when I never thought I’d have a family of my own.”
Hollie leaned back against Bear. “Why did you think that, Daddy?”
Joseph smiled. “I don’t know. I really don’t know at all.”
Mary Lyons sat nursing baby Rose in the kitchen while Priscilla made last-minute preparations. Jude prowled around, seeming unwilling, as always, to let his wife and new baby out of his sight.
“You know you are going to have to go back to teaching school in the fall,” Priscilla teased him.
He adjusted his glasses with a smile. “I know that—I try to forget the subject though, as much as I can.”
They all three laughed together; then Mary spoke up. “Jude, why don’t you go look for Joseph and Hollie? I promise not to disappear from sight.”
He bent and dropped a lingering kiss on Mary’s mouth, and Priscilla smiled.
“All right, sweetheart. But I’ll hold you to that promise.”
He started to whistle, lifted his hat, and pressed Priscilla’s shoulder before he left.
When he’d gone, Mary leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “I think I can guess what your big announcement is for today, Priscilla.”
Priscilla laughed gaily, then dropped to the table beside her sister-in-law. “All right. I promised Joseph I wouldn’t tell until the picnic, but yes, I’m pregnant.”
They caught each other’s hands and smiled.
“That is so lovely, Priscilla. Praise Gott.”
“Yes,” Priscilla said. “And the funny part is, though don’t ever tell Joseph, he was the one who told me I’m pregnant.”
Mary looked surprised. “What? How did he know?” Her tone suggested that her brother was not the kind of man to be aware of such things, and Priscilla’s smile deepened.
“I had my suspicions, but Grossmudder May told him before she passed.”
“Ach,”
Mary said softly. “I will miss her so much.”
“I know . . . a lifetime of wisdom and knowledge and so much compassion.”
“But”—Mary brightened—“we have Sarah.”
“Yes,” Priscilla agreed quietly.
“What is it? You’re thinking about Edward and her?”
“Yes.” Priscilla bit her lip, not wanting to reveal what Joseph had told her about Sarah’s early morning visit.
“I know things aren’t right between them. But I’ve been praying for Edward.”
Priscilla thought hard. “You know, Mary, I could get a lot better at praying for others. Mostly, I’ve been focusing on myself and Joseph and Hollie. And I—I’ve started praying for my father.”
“Joseph told me about the letter he sent.” Mary squeezed her hand sympathetically.
“Yes—I know I’ve forgiven him, but it’s kind of scary to think where prayers will lead.”
Mary nodded. “Scary but transforming and exciting.”
Priscilla had to agree.
Joseph left Hollie and went to stand outside the enlarged woodshed. It was something to imagine a wood shop, a true furniture shop, and he’d been praying hard about it. It wasn’t that he needed the money; he had plenty socked away from the rigs. But with a new baby coming, he wanted to have a steady income, though he knew that God would provide.
He turned to go, then heard a sound inside the shed and went to the door. He opened it and saw Jay Smucker kneeling on the floor in front of the hope chest. The
buwe
was polishing the box with enthusiasm, and the sunlight from the window made the highly lacquered box so beautiful that Joseph caught his breath.
“Jay, it’s done. It’s marvelous,” Joseph praised.
Jay nodded, not lifting his head.
Joseph stepped closer and gave a low whistle of appreciation at the incredible workmanship the lads had done. “Hollie will love it.”
“Jah.”
Jay’s voice was unusually soft.
“Is something wrong?” Joseph asked, touching the
buwe
’s shoulder.
Jay flinched and lifted his face into the sunlight.
Joseph caught his breath. The
buwe
’s right eye was swollen shut and he had a large bruise on his cheekbone.
“Jay . . .” Joseph choked. “Your
fater
?”
“I tried to stop him this time. I got between him and Mamm. I—I wasn’t very effective.”
“All right.
Kumme
with me.” Joseph extended a hand to help him up.
“Everything stays within these walls, remember, Joseph?”
“
Jah
, but you need some treatment for your eye. We’ll stay off the trail and go to Grossmudder—I mean, Sarah’s cabin.”
Jay nodded with visible reluctance, then took his hand.