An Amish Family Reunion (31 page)

Martha’s son, Noah, abandoned his kitchen toys and wandered into the bathroom. He splashed around in the bubbles and soon began peeling off his clothes to join the fun. Emma laughed as she closed the door behind her. “Holler if you need help, and we’ll come running.”

Julia didn’t need a bit of help with the boys, now or for the rest of the afternoon. She relished spending time with Noah and Mary, Jamie and Sam, although from that day on she kept everyone away from the cow pasture. While the youngest three slept on quilts under a shady maple and Jamie played with his toy farm animals, she read her Bible in a lawn chair. She sent up a prayer of gratitude. All four offspring were home. From her vantage point, she could see Matthew and Henry working difficult rescue horses in the ring. Henry appreciated his big brother’s advice and assistance, while Matthew was only too happy to help. During supper last night, he’d monopolized the conversation with grand ideas to bolster Henry’s business. Simon had nodded with approval half a dozen times.

Emma had come home for a one-month stay as promised. Tonight James would join his family for the weekend. She and Leah were making up for lost time with nonstop chatter. Because the two sisters belonged to different orders and lived miles apart, their visits were few and far between. Martha seemed content simply to be back in Ohio, even though she seldom got a word in edgewise with Leah and Emma around. Right after they finished cookout preparations, Martha crossed the street to spend the afternoon with her mother and sisters. Julia’s primary concern was Leah. She worried too much about her pie business, Joanna’s cheese production, and the future home of the Byler family.

“You seem to be handling the wild pack.” Leah’s voice drifted over Julia’s shoulder as the subject of her musings strolled into view. “I was sent to check on and rescue you if necessary.”

“Goodness, you girls treat me like an old woman. I’m fine. You shouldn’t hold one little mishap against me.”

“I’ll never bring it up again.” Leah winked and lowered herself to the quilt, careful not to disturb the sleeping children. After a minute of silent contemplation, she asked, “Are you ready for one more
kins kind
?” She focused on the infant, pulling her bonnet forward to protect the delicate skin.

“I’m so happy for you and Jonah. I’d suspected that might be the case with you.” Julia reached down to pat Leah’s head. “Have you told your sister and Martha yet?”

“Just now. I’d been waiting until I was further along, praying it wasn’t another false alarm.”

When mother and daughter locked gazes, Julia saw tears in Leah’s large brown eyes. “Wise choice. No sense setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“I was starting to think it wasn’t meant to be. We’ve been married four years. I thought God had chosen not to grant my prayer.”

“Sometimes He does tell us no, but often we simply must wait on His timing. We shouldn’t fret in the meantime—worrying only shows God we have no faith.”

Leah gazed across the lawn where men were setting up long tables for the outdoor supper. “You’re referring to my anxiety about moving to Wisconsin, aren’t you?”

“I am. Surrender your will and trust in Him. Once you send the problem up in prayer, let it go.”

Leah nodded as though she agreed, but the set of her jaw and her clenched teeth indicated a different opinion altogether.

So much easier said than done
.

Matthew Miller couldn’t remember seeing his wife this happy in a long time. She’d spent the afternoon at home, visiting with her sisters and parents. Tomorrow night they would have supper with the Hostetler clan, because Mary Hostetler couldn’t get enough of Noah and little Mary. The two
grossmammi
s fussed over the
bopplin
enough to spoil them like English youngsters, but he didn’t mind. His wife had greeted him with a kiss when she returned in time for dinner. And if she was happy, Matthew was happy.

Sitting at the outdoor table, he studied his extended family with pride. Uncle Seth, Aunt Hannah, and Ben had eaten with them often since his homecoming. His cousin Phoebe apparently had a beau. A blond with hair hanging in his eyes arrived just as they sat down to eat. The young man watched Phoebe’s every move from the opposite bench. She couldn’t sip lemonade without drawing his attention. But if this Eli stuck around,
mamm
might take a pair of shears to those bangs.

James Davis, sitting across from Emma and his sister, Lily, made an effort to speak solely in
Deutsch
. Many of his pronunciations left much to be desired, but he’d improved since Julia had taken him to task. Leah and Jonah, reunited after a week’s separation, whispered across the table like a courting couple instead of two people married several years. And his father encouraged everyone to eat more hamburgers, corn on the cob, and potato salad as though the Millers teetered on the brink of starvation. Matthew loved being home. As much as he enjoyed his new position at Rolling Meadows, no place on earth offered as much joy and love as Winesburg.

When the women stacked dishes to be carried inside, Phoebe and her mysterious Eli wandered toward the pond, deep in conversation. Seth and Ben headed home for evening chores, but they would return later for pie and coffee. Henry and Dad went to milk cows and then feed and water livestock. And Matthew was left to his thoughts and reminiscences of what might have been. After refilling his coffee mug, he strolled inside the horse barn. Overhead, barn swallows were settling down for the night in rafter nests, while swifts continued to dart through the open loft window, gobbling up bugs for supper. Matthew watched their frenetic activity with fascination. How he longed for his own barn instead of a converted garage barely large enough for one buggy horse.

“Bird-watching in barns these days, Matty?” James Davis approached with a smile and hearty handshake.

“Birds roosting in the rafters are one of my fondest memories. But these are probably the grandchildren of birds I remember from childhood. The owners of the stable where I work would faint if they saw this.” He pointed at the rafter nests. “They put mesh over every possible entry point in barns for expensive horses.” He settled on a hay bale with a contented sigh.

“I need to pick your brain for a while.” James settled on the bale to Matthew’s right. “My brother picked up a horse at auction with both great bloodlines and markings. He could be a show horse if someone had the time and patience. He’s a solid-looking gelding about two years old, showing no visible signs of abuse or neglect from previous owners, but the horse won’t let Kevin get anywhere near his mouth. He still balks and tries to bite him even after several weeks of gentle treatment. He’ll let Kevin throw a rope around his neck and ride him bareback around the paddock, but he won’t let anyone come close with a bit and bridle.” James pulled up a blade of hay to chew.

Matthew needed no long period of consideration. “Even though he looks healthy, he was probably lip-twitched by a former owner. It’s a lip chain people once used to break horses—very old-fashioned and banned by all breeder and trainer associations. Thank goodness, you almost never see those nasty things anymore. Ignorant owners thought you had to break a horse’s spirit to train them. That sort of thinking did more harm than good. Luckily, few people still maintain that viewpoint.” He shook off the depressing mental images. “Kevin’s horse most likely had a painful infected lip at some point. Even though it might be healed, it’s no surprise the horse won’t let anyone near his mouth.” Matthew shuddered while his back stiffened with anger.

“What do you think Kevin can do?” James’ expression also revealed his opinion of the cruel people in the world.

“He’ll have to find a whole lot of patience…and pray. It might take a long time before the horse stops fearing the bit. That’s probably why the owner unloaded him at auction, despite impressive bloodlines.”

James stoked his beard sagely. His was a better-trimmed version of an Old Order beard. “I’ll recommend both to Kevin.”

“I have a question for you, James. Do you board and train saddlebreds at your place in Charm?”

“We have bred and sold some in the past, but we don’t have any now. Buyers around here are looking for Morgans, Haflingers, Standardbreds, and, of course, draft horses. We get an occasional call for Tennessee Walkers or Thoroughbreds, but saddlebreds are pretty much out of the Holmes County’s price range.”

Matthew puckered his lips in thought. “I remember a few English folks with deep pockets. If they were to suddenly take interest in the saddlebred show circuit, you could add a breeding program easy enough. You have the right facilities with heated barns, indoor arenas, and an outdoor show ring. You can’t believe how much money could be made tapping these rich folks. They spend tens of thousands of dollars to buy their daughters a hobby. And then thousands more each month for boarding, training, and outfits for those girls to wear in shows.” Matthew struggled not to sound reproachful.

James’ blue eyes squinted as slanted rays through the loft window illuminated his face. “I’ll pass this along to my father. He might ask our equine manager to check into potential demand in the area. But I can tell you that my New Order bishop sure wouldn’t like
me
involved in such a vocation. He only likes horses that pull buggies.”

They laughed like longtime friends. “It’s just a suggestion. The saddlebred people pay plenty of money to board their horses at certain stables, as though whoever shovels out the wood shavings makes a difference in their point standings. And the tips for trainers and grooms…I know trainers who receive five-thousand-dollar Christmas bonuses and grooms who get twenty-dollar tips just for tacking a horse fifteen minutes.”

“Money! Is that all you can talk about, Matthew Miller, even back home?”

Both men’s heads snapped toward the soft-spoken but petulant voice of Martha Miller. “No,
fraa
. If you’d arrived sooner, you would have heard our lively discussion on injured horse lips.” Matthew kept his tone equally controlled.

James slid effortlessly off the hay. “I’m going to look for my Emma. I need to spend time with her, while you two could use some time alone. Thanks for your advice, Matty. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night, Martha.” He tipped his battered hat brim and strode out the door.

Matthew turned his full attention on his wife. “You shouldn’t speak to me like that in front of James. Save what you have to say until we’re alone.” He clamped down on his back teeth, trying not to frown.

Martha shifted her weight between hips, blushing to a bright shade of peach. Her freckles blended into obscurity. “
Jah
, that’s how I was raised. Not to air your troubles like laundry on a Monday wash line. But I was peeved to hear you going on and on about the almighty dollar—to James Davis, no less. His family doesn’t need advice on how to get rich.”

A silence fell between them as he silently counted to ten. He’d only reached five before he spoke. “I wasn’t doling out financial advice, Martha. We were talking about horses, so I brought up the topic of saddlebreds. Would you prefer I not talk about my job or the place where I work?” He crossed his arms too, a matching stance of defiance and annoyance. “Perhaps you could supply me with a list of approved conversation topics.”

Her flush deepened to plum. “Talk about what you will, Matthew, but it’s a sin to dwell so much on money.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. “I thought you wanted us to buy a farm and move from that rental house. People who give no thought to finances don’t buy their own property. They blow around from place to place like dead leaves in the fall. Is that what you want for our family?”

She lowered her chin to glare at the straw-strewn floor. “No, but some days I don’t know what I want. I only walked out here to say the pies had been sliced, in case you wanted your first choice. Coffee’s still hot too. Would you like to come up to the house?” She glanced up tentatively.

He leaned back on his elbows, exhaling his breath. “I’ll be up by and by. You go in now. I want a tad more peace and quiet.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then she shut it just as quickly. Nodding her head, Martha disappeared into the growing gloom as silently as she’d arrived. And Matthew was left with a sour taste in his mouth, despite consuming an exceptionally delicious supper.

P
hoebe had been so shocked by the appearance of Eli Riehl in her uncle’s driveway that she nearly choked on her corn on the cob. A kernel slipped down to lodge in her windpipe that would have led to her demise had cousin Emma not whacked her hard on the back. The corn kernel flew out and hit poor Henry’s shirt. That alone could have led to death-by-embarrassment if Eli had witnessed the scene. “Excuse me a minute,” she said, rising to her feet. “
Mir leid
, Henry.” Phoebe hurried to greet the newcomer as he tied up his horse under a shady elm.