Read Autumn Winds Online

Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Christian, #Romance, #Amish & Mennonite

Autumn Winds (18 page)

BOOK: Autumn Winds
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Miriam stepped around him with her platter while Leah, as the hostess, informed the men that the meal was ready. Was it her imagination, or did Naomi and her daughter Hannah—and even Annie Mae and Nellie—move in around her as they headed to the tables to sit down? Once again, Miriam was ever so grateful for her friends and their daughters.
And once again, Miriam wondered how Ben was doing. She prayed that he and his brothers and aunts would get an early start to Missouri tomorrow morning—and prayed she could hang on until Wednesday when they were to arrive. With Hiram in such a foul mood, it was anyone’s guess how he’d behave come Thursday, at Rachel and Micah’s wedding.
 
 
“Oh, but the bishop irritates me!” Rachel muttered as she stepped outside with Micah after the common meal. She felt so fired up she didn’t bother to grab her shawl or bonnet. “The way he’s been badgerin’ Mamma about marryin’ him has gone beyond embarrassin’. What if he acts this way at the wedding? What if he—”
Micah kissed her, trying to settle her down. Then he slipped an arm around her waist, steering her toward the dozens of carriages that were parked off to the side of Aunt Leah and Uncle Daniel’s long lane. “Rache, that’s a whole ’nother ball of wax,” he remarked in his low, unruffled voice. “And I suspect the other preachers’ll be watchin’ Hiram pretty close, now that so many folks have pointed out his refusal to confess.”

Jah
, but what if he keeps after Mamma in front of all our kin and the friends who’re comin’ from far away?” she continued in a rising voice. “Seems like we Lantzes can’t make a move lately but what the bishop doesn’t aim Sunday mornin’s Scripture at us like an arrow.”
Micah laughed quietly. “Far as I can see, he’s only pointin’ up how you girls and your mamm are standin’ strong. Every time he throws up a barrier—like tryin’ to buy the café, or sayin’ ya shouldn’t be sellin’ land to the Hooleys—you gals find a way to get past his bluster and do the right thing. Folks all over Willow Ridge are cheerin’ ya on, too.”
They strode past the corral, where dozens of horses pricked up their ears. Once they were behind the cattle barn, Rachel threw up her hands. “Micah, you just don’t get it!” she blurted. “Our wedding’s the biggest day of our lives. Years from now, I don’t want to recall how Bishop Knepp ruined it by making a spectacle of Mamma yet again. If someone doesn’t—”
Micah took her face between his large hands, which were callused from his carpentry work yet ever so tender. “Years from now,” he repeated in a low, purposeful voice, “you and I are gonna look back on our wedding as the start of a wonderful-
gut
life together, Rachel. We’ll gather our kids around the table every day and give thanks for all the things God’s blessed us with, and by then Hiram Knepp’s carryin’ on’ll be somethin’ to laugh about.”
Rachel stared up at him, ready to protest yet again . . . but Micah’s deep green eyes held her captive. “
Jah
, but—”
“No buts, Rache. No more what-ifs or gettin’ all upset, makin’ up problems where they don’t exist.” He leaned down to kiss her softly, once . . . twice . . . until she couldn’t help but kiss him back. The tension she’d felt all morning eased from between her shoulders.
“Seems to me,” Micah went on as he pulled her close to shelter her from the chilly breeze, “that your
mamm
’s got Ben watchin’ out for her—not to mention his two aunts and his brothers. And the way your Uncle Daniel and Aunt Leah, and the Zooks, and Preacher Tom stood up to Hiram today tells me you Lantzes have nothin’ to fear. It’ll all work out.”
Rachel stood quietly, letting the calm conviction of Micah’s words settle her troubled heart. Maybe she
had
been making a mountain out of a molehill . . . again.

You
have nothin’ to be afraid of, either, Rachel,” he continued quietly. “What with your sisters close by, you’ll never lack for love or company. And then there’s me. Don’t think for a minute that I’ll let the bishop interfere with a marriage—a family—that’s come about as part of God’s own plan. Ya believe that about us, don’t ya?”
She swallowed hard, still caught up in Micah’s unwavering gaze. With his strong arms around her and such intense devotion shining in his eyes, how could she harbor any doubts? “
Jah
, I do believe that,” she murmured. His heart beat steadily beneath her head when she laid it on his chest. “There’s never been anybody else for me, Micah. I’m mighty lucky that you can see past my frettin’ and stewin’, ain’t so?”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest. “
Jah
, you’re one lucky woman, all right,” he replied lightly. “And I intend to remind ya of that every chance I get. We’ve been blessed with each other, so how can Hiram or anybody else spoil a single hour of our life together? We just won’t let them.”
We just won’t let them
. Rachel smiled, enveloped in Micah’s warmth and strength. If this fine man was for her, who could possibly be against her?
And Lord, if You’ll remind me of that, too, I’ll do my very best to hand my worries over to You. Thanks for bein’ willin’ to take them.
Chapter 18
“Well, Brother, there’s not much we can do until help gets here,” Ben said with a sigh. “We didn’t figure on pickin’ up nails in two of the trailer tires.”
He slapped his hat against his thigh. Never mind that he’d planned to be back in Willow Ridge by now; it was Wednesday morning and they were only halfway across Illinois. One delay had followed another, and as they waited alongside the highway for the service truck that would bring those new tires, Ben wondered if Miriam was doubting him . . . thinking he wasn’t dependable, or that he might not stick around once he got his brothers to their new property.
“Might be a
gut
time for a bite of lunch,” Aunt Nazareth suggested. She and Aunt Jerusalem had been riding in Gregg Hatch’s van while Ben had shared the extended cab of the pickup that hauled Ira, Luke, and their belongings. “I’ll fetch the cooler, Sister, if you’ll get out the plates and what-all from the picnic basket. Sure glad we thought to pack extra food for this trip.”
Ben smiled ruefully as the two aunts disappeared behind the van. The
maidel
sisters got testy when long hours on the road made their legs stiff, so their little caravan had stopped more often than he’d figured on. Add to that their late start because Polly Petersheim had arrived just as they were ready to pull out—and Polly had always been one to chatter on and on. Ted Murray’s pickup drank a lot of fuel while hauling the overloaded horse trailer, so stops for gas had cost them time, too. They’d spent Monday and Tuesday nights at Amish homes where he’d done farrier work in the past, because his brothers’ horses needed time out of the trailer to eat and walk around. He knew with a sinking certainty they wouldn’t make it back to Miriam’s in time for the wedding tomorrow . . .
Ted, their English driver, was talking on a cell phone, so when his conversation ended, Ben asked if he could make a call. He had never used such a fancy phone, so Ted punched in the number Ben hoped he remembered correctly from the Sweet Seasons menu. He got the answering machine and closed his eyes as Miriam’s businesslike phone voice told him to leave a message for her café or the quilt shop.
“Miriam, it’s Ben,” he murmured, wishing this call could be more private, “and we’re runnin’ way behind—waitin’ for two new trailer tires out in the middle of Illinois. I sure hope to make the wedding, but if we don’t”—he paused, picturing the disappointment on her sweet face—“I’m sorry. Nothin’s goin’ right and I wish ya were here with me. Believe the best, all right? Because ya deserve the best, Miriam, and that’s who I intend to be for ya.”
As he handed the tiny phone back to Ted, they spotted the red tow truck from a tire place they’d passed about twenty minutes ago.
A day late and several dollars short
, he thought as he considered what this stop would cost. Was God telling them this mill in Missouri was a bad idea? Or was the Lord strengthening his younger brothers for the adjustments they faced now that they’d left the only home they’d ever known? One thing was clear: Hiram Knepp would not welcome Luke and Ira to Willow Ridge with open arms, if only because they were Ben’s brothers. The bishop would fight the establishment of their mill every step of the way, unless other folks prevailed against his wishes—
Or kept him too busy to be a bother.

Denki
,” Ben said as Aunt Nazareth handed him a thick ham sandwich. When his other aunt stepped inside the horse trailer with big bottles of milk, loud bleating and the
trip-trap, trip-trap
of restless little hooves made him smile for the first time that morning. Jerusalem Hooley was on a mission, so Hiram had better watch out!
 
 
Thursday morning dawned bright and crisp, the perfect October day for a wedding—except that Ben and his brothers weren’t here. Miriam gazed toward the road yet again, even though she knew they wouldn’t be arriving this early. Ben’s voice on the message machine had sounded every bit as forlorn as she had been feeling in his absence, so she told herself to have faith.
Believe the best
.
Ben had said they would get here as soon as they could, and he was as good as his word. It would take more than Polly Petersheim’s calls and Hiram Knepp’s harassment to convince her Ben Hooley was stuck on his old girlfriend or playing on Miriam’s affections to get land for his brothers’ mill.
Already lights were on in the Sweet Seasons kitchen, where Naomi would be baking the “roast”—chickens baked with stuffing—and peeling the potatoes with Mary, Eva, and Priscilla Schrock. What would she do without such fine friends? Her two brothers, her sister, and their families had arrived yesterday, as well, so the house was noisier and livelier than it had been in years. Rachel’s wedding was the first gathering they’d had since Jesse’s funeral, and Miriam felt grateful to have family here with her for a joyful occasion this time.
Miriam grinned when a bright red sports car pulled off the road and came toward the house. Who wouldn’t feel wonderful-
gut
at the sight of the daughter she’d feared was dead for eighteen years, now coming up the porch steps with a smile brighter than the sun?

Gut
mornin’ to ya, honey-bunch!” Miriam said as Rebecca hugged her close. “Are ya ready for the big day? You’re up before the chickens this mornin’.”
“Hi, Mamma! What with uncles, aunts, and cousins here, I wanted to show you what I’ve drafted—real quick, before things get too busy.” Rebecca opened her computer on the kitchen table and made pictures appear on its screen.
“Why, that’s the front of the café!” Miriam said eagerly. “And
jah
, there’s our menu. I like the way ya put that steam table alongside the words. And—oh my.”
After Rebecca tapped a few computer keys, Miriam was gazing at a view of the Missouri River and its rapids, but instead of the grassy banks there stood a quaint wooden mill with a big wheel that slowly turned as the water drove it. Above it all,
THE MILL AT WILLOW RIDGE
was written in artistic green and rust lettering. “Rebecca, that’s quite a sight,” Miriam breathed, “but how’d ya know what the Hooleys’ mill will look like? And how’d ya get the buildin’ in the picture when it hasn’t been constructed yet?”
Rebecca smiled sweetly; creating such wonders was second nature to her. “When I asked Micah, he said the plans resemble most classic mills, so I dropped in this image. Once the mill’s built, I’ll use a for-real photograph.”
“Ah. Computer magic.”

Jah
, that’s it.” Rebecca closed the laptop and tucked it into her backpack. “And just so you know, the bishop’s webmaster has taken Hiram’s photograph off his website.”
“Glad to hear it. At least he did what he was supposed to on that account.”
Rebecca’s eyebrow rose. “Has he been pestering you again? Or has he said Ben’s brothers couldn’t build their mill?”
Miriam poured Rebecca the first cup from a fresh pot of coffee. “Lo and behold, on Sunday all the members voted in favor of bringin’ in the new b23usiness, so Hiram had to go along with them,” she recounted. “I was mighty surprised at how outspoken folks got after Gabe Glick preached a sermon on the consequences of doin’ what ya please rather than listenin’ to God and actin’ toward the higher
gut
for everyone involved.”
“Bet Hiram wasn’t too happy about that.” Rebecca sipped her coffee and broke off a chunk of apple coffee cake from the tray on the kitchen counter. “Mmmm! Mamma, ya make the best goodies on this Earth, you know it?”
And wasn’t it a fine thing that this child, raised by other parents, seemed so at home in her kitchen? Miriam hugged her close. “Let’s don’t let talk of the bishop spoil our day. Rachel’s been waitin’ a long time to be Micah’s bride—and I hear feet hittin’ the floor upstairs. Shall we go see your sisters?”
Miriam put two more mugs of coffee on her tray and preceded Rebecca past the rows of wooden pew benches that filled most of the house’s main level. Up the stairs they went, to the adjoining bedrooms Rachel and Rhoda had slept in all their lives . . . but that would change today.
Last week she and the girls had painted the bigger bedroom farthest down the hall for Rachel and Micah . . . and what a bittersweet day that had been, preparing for Rachel to become the woman of this house. Micah had handcrafted a beautiful walnut bed, two nightstands, and a dresser as his wedding present to her. Miriam had completed the top of the Dresden Plate quilt she’d been piecing together these past several months, and now that Eva and Priscilla Schrock had hand-quilted it, the new coverlet graced the bed. So the room, simple yet beautiful, awaited the newlyweds.
Rhoda had redded up one of the other rooms in preparation for Ben’s aunts, too. And right now Miriam’s sister Deborah and her husband, Wilmer, slept there; her sister Lovinia and her husband, Mose, had a room; her sister Mattie and her husband, Paul, had a room; and all the cousins were bunking over at Leah’s house. Miriam had kept the room she’d shared with Jesse, so at least that hadn’t changed.
“So Ben hasn’t made it back with his brothers?”
Miriam came out of her woolgathering, smiling at the playful tone of Rebecca’s question. “He called to say they were havin’ one problem after another—nails in trailer tires and such,” she replied. “But he’ll get here today, whenever he can. Probably not for the wedding ceremony, though.”
“I bet he’s disappointed about that. Like you are.”
When Rebecca slipped an arm around her shoulders, Miriam forgot her fretting over Ben. Weren’t there plenty of reasons to rejoice on this day? And her daughters were the three best ones.
Miriam poked her head into Rachel’s room and then laughed. The bed was a mess and two nightgowns lay on the plank floor, but the bride had put on her new royal-blue dress and crisp white apron, eager to wear the special clothing she and Rhoda had made a few weeks ago.

Gut
mornin’, Mamma! And Rebecca, too!” Rachel chirped as she tied her new black high-top shoes. “And ya brought up breakfast? Now this
is
a big day!”
Rhoda came in from the bathroom then, wearing a dress and apron identical to Rachel’s. “
Jah
, we’re all up before the sun, ready to shine with our own light! Batteries not included—or needed!” With a wide grin, she handed Rebecca her blue dress. “We’ll help ya pin that on, and pin your hair back for ya, if ya want.”
“Let’s see how I do,” Rebecca replied.
Miriam slipped into her own room to put on the new magenta dress the girls had made for her. How blessed she was that her daughters were talented in so many ways; so generous and loving. After she pinned the front of the dress, she fastened her V-shaped cape at the small of her back and brought its two halves over her shoulders to pin them at her waist. Her black cape and apron signified that she’d reached forty; no longer a sign that she was in mourning for Jesse, although more than once this past week she’d wished her husband were here to watch this important rite of passage for their dear daughter.
As she reached for her brush, Miriam wondered if Ben would mind the silvery strands mixed into the dark brown hair that fell past her hips—or was it inappropriate to think about him in this bedroom she’d shared with Jesse? She quickly wound her hair into a bun, pinned it into place, and put on a fresh white kapp. No sense in letting her thoughts stray, as this day would require her most focused thinking; she had to get through all the details of church and the big dinner afterwards, with upwards of two hundred family members and friends coming.
When she returned to Rachel’s room, Rebecca stood between her sisters, allowing them to pin the Plain dress. Over her shoulders went the blue cape . . . then the white apron, which Rachel pinned in the back. Rebecca wore no makeup today, out of respect for her family, and when her white kapp covered her shorter hair, she turned around.
Oh, Jesse, what you’re missin’ right now
, Miriam thought as she blinked back tears. The triplets linked elbows, and when Rachel and Rhoda extended their arms to her, Miriam stepped into that warm, sweet circle they’d shared far more often since the man of the Lantz family had passed. Miriam knew it wasn’t this way in most Plain families, even where the mother and her daughters were close. But today more than ever she craved this physical sign of love and . . . belonging. Where would any one of them be without the other?
Rachel’s eyes were shining, crystal blue. “Family . . .
fer gut
and forever—no matter how the names may change,” she murmured.
“Family,
fer gut
and forever,” they all repeated, huddling until their foreheads met. For a shimmering moment the world around them went still. The people they would see and the food they would serve didn’t exist: it was the four of them, as solid as the posts on the walnut bed Micah had made, standing to celebrate their love before Rachel entered into another kind of life altogether—knowing that even then, they would have each other. Always.
“Well now,” Miriam whispered. “Everybody’ll be up soon. Let’s go downstairs to help your cousins with their breakfast and be ready to meet who-all’s comin’. And let’s promise each other that no matter what the bishop might do or say, this is
your
day, Rachel. And we’ll all remember it with the special love we’re feelin’ right now, in these quiet moments in this fine old house.”
BOOK: Autumn Winds
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