Anna's Healing (5 page)

Mammi
laughed and shook her finger at Anna. “You look as if you've met your new best friend. Erin is a
gut
cook,
ya
?”

Anna nodded.

“There was no use trying to teach my boys to cook. Eight boys and not a single one of them could break an egg correctly. So when my
kinner
married, I thanked the Lord I would finally have a chance to pass on the skills of the kitchen.”

Mammi
grinned and pushed back at the white hair that had escaped from her
kapp
. Samuel continued eating without comment, and Erin, as usual, remained silent.

“I can teach you too, Anna. You will want to be able to feed a young man one day.”

“Are you going to Sunday's singing, Anna?” Erin finally appeared interested in the conversation.

Anna wanted to say no. What she'd like to do Sunday was enjoy their time of family worship, rest, relish her time out of the produce booth, and maybe take a long walk. On the Sundays they didn't meet for church, most Amish families visited friends or kinfolk. But since she'd been in Oklahoma, that hadn't happened with her
onkel
and
aenti
. They had no family to visit, though they were welcome at any of their neighbors' homes.

The look of hope on Erin's face caused Anna to reconsider her answer. There was little she seemed to do that actually pleased her
aenti
. Would it be such a burden for her to agree to go to the singing?

“I was thinking I might.”

“With Neal or Adam?” As an afterthought Erin added, “Or Thomas?”

“Actually, I thought I would go alone.” Anna peeked up from her food, steeling herself against her
aenti
's disappointment. She needn't have worried.

“It's
gut
you're going. And maybe you are right. I can think of at least two other boys who are older and still searching for a
fraa
. If you go alone, perhaps they will understand they may have a chance.”

Samuel had finished his meal. He pushed away his plate, leaned back, and sipped his coffee. “All fine boys. We're not rushing you, Anna, but understand that when a woman hesitates to make such a commitment, eventually the time for choosing will pass. Think of your future and realize there are only a limited number of chances.”

“You're worried about my future?” Anna aimed for a light tone, but the question came out accusatory nonetheless, at least to her ears.

“You mock me, but it's true. Your
dat
wrote me before you came about how you had turned down the boys back in Goshen.”

“But I'm only twenty-four—”

“Twenty-four is maybe not old in the
Englisch
culture, but for us it is…” Erin swiped at a crumb on the table. “It is unusual for a girl to wait so long.”

“
Gotte
has a plan for Anna.”
Mammi
continued to peck at her chicken and potatoes. “You two do not need to worry over her future. You need to pray and be kind to one another.”

Samuel didn't respond to that. He only stood and walked out the back door to complete his evening chores.

CHAPTER 5

W
hile Anna was washing the dishes with her
aenti
, she thought back over the conversation she'd had with Rebecca at the dry goods store. With Samuel out of the house, Erin was sometimes in a more talkative mood. Her temperament seemed better this evening, perhaps because Anna had agreed to go to the singing. Maybe it was a good time to ask her some questions.

“I don't remember meeting
Daddi
Menno.”

“You did when you were a small
boppli
. It's no surprise you don't remember.”

“This was before you moved from Goshen?”

“
Ya
.”

“Why did
Mammi
and
Daddi
move with you? Didn't they like Goshen?”

Erin shrugged. “Everyone needs the support of family. Perhaps they thought that because we had no children, we needed them all the more.”

Anna hesitated for less time than it took to wash one plate. “Did you ever learn why you couldn't have children?”

“The why is less important than the fact.” Erin vigorously dried a plate and set it in the cabinet with a clatter. If the memory upset her, Anna couldn't tell by the expression on her face, which remained neutral.

“I'm sorry. That must have been very difficult.”

“
Gotte's wille
.”

“But—”

“There is no use struggling against what is, Anna. A kite rises only against the wind.”

Anna splashed soapy water at a fly. “I've grown up hearing proverbs all my life, but I have no idea what that even means.”

“It means what it says. On a windless day a kite will only fall, but if there is a good breeze, if a storm is coming, then the kite will fly high.”

“I'm the kite?”

“We all are, to some degree.”

“So wind and storms are
gut
?” Anna teased, but Erin only shook her head and remained serious.

“The proverb is saying that adversity is
gut
when it brings us closer to
Gotte
.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I suppose I do.” Erin draped the damp dish towel over a hook on the cabinet. “I'd best get to the darning before the light fades.”

Erin and Samuel rarely used the gas lanterns that sat in each room. Why would they? Each evening they were in bed by the time it was dark, though perhaps it was different in the winter. Summer days in Oklahoma seemed to stretch forever, and even Anna was usually worn out by the time darkness cloaked the fields.

She finished cleaning up the kitchen, grabbed her shawl, and stepped out onto the front porch.
Mammi
sat on the top step, playing with one of the cats that had wandered over from the barn. The image made her smile, and for a moment Anna wished she could paint—with pencils or brushes or even words. She wished she could put this memory of her grandmother down on paper.

“Come sit with me, Anna.”

The setting sun splashed a dazzling array of color across the Oklahoma sky—orange melted into red, purple, and blue.

“If I could quilt something that looked like the evening sky, I might be interested in quilting.”

Instead of admonishing her,
Mammi
laughed. “You struggle against the rules, Anna. You are not the first.”

“Some rules make no sense to me.”

“
Ya
. I can tell.”

“Why do we not quilt with red?”

Mammi
continued to tease the cat with a piece of yarn.

“Why do we insist on only using the old patterns?”

The cat pounced on the yarn, causing them both to laugh.

“Why are girls supposed to choose whom to marry when we barely know who we are?”

“No one is rushing you, Anna.”
Mammi
gave her a side glance, and then she turned her attention back to the cat. “Like this barn cat, you have a playful spirit.”

“If you mean I am easily bored, yes. You're right.”

“You have not learned to find contentment in simple day-to-day pleasures.”

“I'm pretty content watching you play with that cat.”

Mammi
reached over and patted her knee. “I am glad you came to stay with us. This house needed your youth and energy.
Gotte
has blessed us with you, Anna.”

And with that announcement,
Mammi
stood and moved into the house, leaving Anna with the cat.

“I'm a blessing,” Anna assured the cat. Somehow when
Mammi
said it, Anna could believe her.

Perhaps good would come from her time in Oklahoma.

Maybe she would find the answers to how she was supposed to live her life, and where, and with whom.

Possibly, as
Mammi
had suggested, her impatient spirit wasn't such a terrible thing after all.

As she watched the cat pounce and roll and then pause to clean its face, she realized that she and the cat had a lot in common. They both were young, both enjoyed amusement more than work, and both had short attention spans. And God had created them, and what He created was good. The Bible promised her as much. It was with those optimistic thoughts that she watched the sunset give way to darkness.

CHAPTER 6

A
familiar restlessness claimed Jacob Graber the second week of September. He'd spent fourteen days harvesting sorghum in South Dakota. He'd become quite good at scouring the
Budget
and figuring out which communities could use an extra hand. Not that they advertised outright for “Help Wanted.” No, you had to read between the lines. When someone posted about a “better than expected crop” and in the same paragraph mentioned a “short harvesting window,” it usually meant there weren't enough men in the family. Though neighbors would help, each farmer had his own crops to bring in, which could result in a stressful time for all involved.

Jacob had picked up a copy of the
Budget
in Montana. While riding the bus south, he'd deduced that there was work at an Amish community an hour southwest of Sioux Falls.

His reasoning had been solid, and he'd easily found a job harvesting the last of the summer crops. Jacob knew his build helped in that hiring—folks looked at him and saw a big, strong farmer. He was five feet eleven and two hundred and five pounds. He was also a hard worker, evidenced by the callouses on his hands.

Matthew Hochstettler was a good boss. He was more than fair, he paid well, and he provided a place to sleep as well as meals.

“I could use you around this place. My boys help as they can, but I've been thinking of taking someone on permanently.”

Jacob stared out the buggy window. The Dakota hills tumbled into
the distance, one after another, until they seemed to him like the waves he had seen in Sarasota.

The day before he'd woken to a brisk north wind and the smell of fall. He didn't need any other excuse to pack his bag and head toward town. Matthew was quick to offer him a ride.

“The job is yours if you'll have it. You're a
gut
worker, Jacob. We'd be happy to have you.”

What went unsaid was that Matthew had three daughters at home—all of marrying age. All easy to look at and with sweet personalities. Too sweet? Jacob didn't know. He only knew it was time to go.

“
Danki
.”

“Which means no.”

“I suppose it does.”

The silence stretched and rose to fill the buggy as it should, as it always had. Amish men weren't famous for their ability to make conversation. Jacob had affirmed that truth in the nine states he'd visited. The horse's hooves against the road soothed something in him—the thing that made his foot tap and his eyes seek the horizon.

Soon they reached the outskirts of town. Matthew pulled his horses to a stop beside an asphalt parking area. The community in Dakota was growing but still on the small side. Only two other people waited for the bus in the shade of the dry goods store. Matthew set the brake on the buggy. They both stepped out onto the asphalt, savoring the warmth of the day.

Jacob retrieved his one piece of luggage. The battered black leather looked more like a sports bag than a suitcase. More importantly, it held the things Jacob needed. Inside were two changes of clothes, his shaving kit and a toothbrush, and his reading material—a Bible and the paperback he'd traded for at the town library's swap section.

Turning to Matthew, he clasped the older man's hand. “
Danki
for your kindness, Matthew. I enjoyed the work and your family treated me as if I belonged.”

“
Ya
, it seemed to me you fit right in.” The older man rubbed at his right eyebrow and stared off into the distance. Finally he returned his gaze to Jacob. “Once you begin traveling, it can be hard to stop.”

Jacob didn't bother answering.

“But if you must, we will keep you in our prayers. We'll pray for your safety and ask
Gotte
to lead you where you belong.” Matthew reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper folded in half. He pushed it into Jacob's hands. “I know you have family back home. You've told me as much, but if you find you need help from someone closer, give me a call. That's the number to my
bruder
's harness shop here in town. He can get hold of me.”

With one last slap on the back, he climbed back into his buggy and turned toward home. Jacob picked up his bag and walked up the steps of the dry goods store. The clerk greeted him by name, which wasn't much of a surprise given the lack of business.