Love's Abundant Harvest (10 page)

Manny tried to look in her eyes, but she put her head down and kept walking. He watched
her go, and then turned to Sam. He was back to work repairing a manure spreader.
It was a bold move, but Manny couldn't let this go, and he took his time walking
down the aisle filled with everything from plows to carts. “Is there anything I can
help you with?”

Sam continued to bang out a bent piece of metal, but he didn't speak.

“Lucy seemed upset.” Manny shifted his boots.

Still no response.

To his surprise, Manny was prepared for whatever Sam said or did. It might have been
less than he thought, but after looking into Lucy's face, he was pretty sure what
had transpired between them was not right; she wasn't herself. “Do you want me to
check on her?”

Sam turned his head away from the spreader and slowly stood without taking his eyes
off Manny. “Why are you still here?”

“To deliver your mail.” Manny wished he had the two envelopes.

Sam glared at him. “Don't bother yourself with the mail.”

Manny scoffed. The few times he'd brought the mail to them, there was nothing for
Sam, but he knew how important it was for Lucy to get correspondence.

“It's no problem.” He felt like he'd blown it. That was his excuse to check in on
her, and after what had just happened, he felt the obligation even more. His mind
raced to find what to say. But when he looked up at Sam, he knew nothing he said
would change his mind. “I know you don't like to bother with it, and I think Abner's
on the mend, so I'll see if he's able to.”

Sam's lips pinched together as he stared him down. “We'll manage.” He took a single
step that put them nose to nose. “
Gut
day, Manny.”

His words weren't rude, but his tone was.

Manny felt useless at this point. Worst of all, he'd put Lucy in the middle. He'd
overstepped his bounds, and when he thought about it, he was probably making it harder
for her. Had he heard what he thought he had or was he thinking the worst? This was
the overprotective side of him that he had no right to indulge.

He was out of line; the Amish kept family issues within the family. The bishop would
consider this a private matter, yet Manny thought it was hard for him not to do anything
when there was some sort of verbal abuse going on. He was involved just because of
what he heard and saw, whether that was wrong or right.

Manny walked away from the barn deep in thought, wondering where his place was in
all this, if he had any at all, and noticed Lucy sitting on the porch swing reading
a letter.

“One of those from your sister?” He understood why Abner was so nosy now and was
glad that he was. It was nice to know she had family who loved and cared about her.

Lucy jumped a little and nodded. Her freckles looked brighter today, but then, her
face was also paler. He wondered whether it was because she didn't feel well or because
of Sam.

He took slow steps to the gate and stopped. “Is everybody good back home?”

Her eyes rose over the top of the paper she held, and she nodded.

“Are your sisters coming down anytime soon?”

“
Nee
, my
mamm
came yesterday, but she went to fetch some more coffee.”

He relished hearing her voice at an even level. “That's nice. You enjoying spending
time with her?” That seemed like a stupid question, but he was so glad she was talking
to him that he didn't care, and she didn't seem to mind.

She put the letter down and turned her head toward the barn. “Sort of.”

Manny couldn't hide his surprise. He waited for her to continue.

“She's . . . hard to please.” She immediately put a hand to her lips, as if to lock
them shut. “I didn't mean it in a bad way.”

Manny smiled, tickled she was worried about what he thought when all he cared about
was having a conversation with her. “Family can be like that at times.”

She gave a short laugh. “Or all the time.”

He listened to her laugh in his mind again and smiled with her. “I know what you
mean.”

“She'll be a big help, though.” Her eyes lost their sparkle, and Manny looked over
his shoulder to see Sam with a bucket of milk in hand to separate.

“I'm sure she will be. I look forward to meeting her.” He
knew he should leave; she
was obviously nervous with him there and Sam wishing he was gone. But when Sam moved
out of sight to finish his chore, Manny turned around on a heel and stuck his hands
on his hips. “Are you all right?” He didn't know where his courage came from, but
he couldn't leave without asking.

Lucy's face turned pink. “Manny—”

“I won't do or say a thing. I just need to know.” He waited a beat and then another,
thinking he wasn't going to get an answer. He was about to turn around when she said
his name.

“Manny,
danke
.” When she stood and walked into the
haus
, he'd never felt so helpless.

T
he women took their places at the large table around the quilting frame in Frieda's
kitchen. “It's about time we all got together to quilt. I thought I was gonna end
up making this whole quilt myself.” Frieda's tone wasn't pleasant, but she had reason
to be a little frustrated. They had been increasingly busy. With the beginning of
fall harvest around the corner, they were hopping from farm to farm, threshing, cutting,
and baling as much as they could before the more time-consuming crops would need
to be tended to.

“Now, Frieda, you know I'll always get us together and work double-time if need be.”
Nellie took two stitches, using her thimble to push the needle back and forth through
the fabric. “Lucy's little one isn't due for a few more weeks now. Remember in the
days when we used cotton? It was like quilting through butter.”

Lucy admired Nellie's gift of quilting and wished she could do half as well. She
made it seem effortless. Nellie's hand was poised above the quilt as she watched
the others work. It was as if she had two sets of eyes—one stitching and one overseeing
others' work. After hearing Nellie's story, Lucy admired her even more, not only
for her love of quilting but also for her independent nature, something rare among
the Amish.

“That's when we were down south, and the cotton was plentiful.” Rosy wiggled her
fingers to get the knots out of
them. “Those were the days, weren't they?” She looked
up as if seeing that time all over again. Her bright-blue eyes gazed upward as if
she were there.

“You missing Tennessee, Rosy?” Frieda took a back stitch and then pushed the thread
under the quilt and snipped off the head. Lucy watched and learned more than she
quilted. These women had experience on their side, spending many years making the
most difficult stitch look easy.

Rosy leveled her head to meet Lucy's gaze. “You miss it there, don't ya, hon?”

A lump formed in Lucy's throat as she recalled the pain of leaving there. Being the
youngest to find a husband had become a concern, not so much for her as for her
mamm
.
But Lucy hadn't been happy since she'd moved away and figured she wouldn't ever live
there again. Sam would never leave even though his family was up north, and she would
never ask him to. With his
mamm
and
daed
gone and only one surviving sister that
he didn't speak to, he had no reason to go. But in Lucy's mind, he had little reason
to stay, especially since her family was down south.

Lucy watched Rosy cut a length of thread, lick its end, and then pick up a magnifying
glass that
Mammi
had wired to the quilt frame to thread the needle. “What will we
stuff this one with?”

Lucy hadn't used anything but old dresses, old quilts, or worn-out pants. She wanted
only the best for the little one, something that she'd made. Lucy knew the babe would
have plenty to rest her head on, but the one from her would have to be extra special.

“Something warm.”
Mamm
had been quiet until now and looked over at Lucy. “So you'll
have something to keep you and the baby warm.”

“Well then, we might have to put some cotton in there.” Frieda winked at Lucy and
grinned. “We wouldn't want you or little Joe to catch a chill.”

“Little Joe?” Lucy stared at Frieda. “You've decided it's a boy and named him already?”

Frieda nodded. “
Jah
, I know you want a girl, but I'm thinking that by the way he's
sitting down low, it's a boy.”

“Huh-uh.” Nellie chimed in. “Lucy wants a girl, so that's the way we're thinking.”
She peered over at Lucy's bulging belly. “Although Frieda's right about how low that
babe is.” Verna was unusually quiet about the whole conversation. She must have
something on her mind, but quilting was the best medicine, no matter what ailed a
woman. “As long as the baby doesn't have Sam's eyes, I don't care if it's a boy or
a girl.”

Nellie, Frieda, Rosy, and Lucy all stared at her. But
Mamm
's eyes were on her needle
as she stitched like she was punching a bag of corn. The room was silent for a long
moment.

“Why do you say that?” Frieda asked with a frown. Lucy was just glad she hadn't had
to ask. She was curious as to why her
mamm
would say such a thing, at least out loud.
There were many things she thought about her own husband but never had the nerve
to say. She worried that Sam and
Mamm
might set each other off, but so far they'd
done their best to ignore each other.

“I've never seen such cutting eyes. And the color, it's a mishmash of something I
haven't seen before.” She tied and snipped a piece of thread and reached for a patch.
She glanced around the room quickly. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed.”

Now that Lucy thought about it, that was what made
his stare intimidating and his
eyes unfriendly. It matched his personality to a T.

The room quieted again, and Lucy found she needed some air. She'd expected awkward
moments with her
mamm
coming to visit, but it wasn't any easier to deal with. She
appreciated her mother's concerns about Sam, but her
mamm
was an opinionated woman
around opinionated women, and it was a tough situation to be in the middle of when
they were all talking about Sam.

“
Jah
, I guess I have,” Rosy responded, which surprised Lucy. She was usually the
last one to get into a controversy. But then Rosy was probably the most honest as
well. Not that the others weren't, but Rosy had complete loyalty to the truth.

“Aha. I'm glad to hear someone say it.”
Mamm
looked over at Frieda, whom she probably
expected to comment about anything concerning Sam. Frieda normally made it obvious
that she didn't like the man and never had. Verna probably didn't either, judging
by her comment about him, but would never admit that.

Verna had encouraged the match between him and Lucy when she heard that a wealthy
widower was looking for a young, strong wife to help him farm. Lucy wasn't sure then
why Sam looked for a wife outside his own community, but Verna convinced her that
she would enjoy working alongside him, just as she'd enjoyed working with her
daed
.
And it didn't hurt that Sam didn't seem to mind her scar. But even now that she could
see what Sam was really like, Verna was unlikely to own up to the fact that the match
hadn't turned out to be a happy life for her daughter.

“This isn't the time.” Lucy didn't look directly at her
mamm
but hoped she'd know
not to continue the conversation. It wasn't likely Sam would be walking through
the door, but in case he did, this wasn't the time to talk about him. It never was.
This was her cross to bear.

Nellie reached for a patch and needle and began quilting, which was a wise thing
to do. It was as if a cow was in the room, but no one admitted seeing the creature.
“You're looking a little peaked, Lucy.”

“
Jah
, I think I'll take a walk.” She noticed her
mamm
shifting in her seat. “Alone,
if that's all right.” She looked away before her
mamm
could speak. The usual warm
conversation she shared with Rosy, Nellie, and Frieda was interrupted by her mother's
presence.