Johanna's Bridegroom. Emma Miller

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      Chapter Three

      At nine the following Saturday morning, Johanna stood in the combined kitchen-great room of the new farmhouse that her sisters Ruth and Miriam shared. Ruth and Eli had the downstairs. Miriam and Charley occupied an apartment on the second floor, but the two couples usually took their meals together and Ruth cooked. Miriam preferred outdoor work, and Ruth enjoyed the tasks of a homemaker. It was an odd arrangement for the Amish, one that Seven Poplars gossips found endlessly entertaining, but it worked for the four of them.

      “Miriam?” Johanna called up the steps. “Are you ready? Charley has the horse hitched.”

      Today, Mam, most of Johanna’s sisters and the small children were all off on an excursion to the Mennonite Strawberry Festival, a yearly event that everyone looked forward to. Their sister Grace, who still lived at home but attended the Mennonite Church, owned a car. She’d graciously offered to drive some of them, and Mam, Susanna, Rebecca, Katy and Aunt Jezzy had already gone ahead with her. But there were too many Yoders to fit in Grace’s automobile, so Miriam was driving a buggyful, as well. Anna loved the Strawberry Festival, but since Rose was so tiny, Anna had decided to remain at home and keep Ruth company. Ruth was in the last stage of pregnancy with twins and preferred staying close to home and out of the heat.

      “I feel bad going off and leaving the two of you,” Johanna said. “We had such a good time last year.”

      Ruth settled into a comfortable chair and rubbed the front of her protruding apron. “Until these two are born, I don’t have the energy to walk to the mailbox, let alone chase my nieces and nephews around the festival.”

      Anna smiled and switched small Rose, hidden modestly under a receiving blanket, to her other breast. The baby settled easily into her new position and began to nurse. “Don’t worry about us,” Anna said. “You’re so sweet to take my girls. They’ve been talking about it all week.”

      “No problem. And your Naomi is such a big help with Katy.” Johanna threw a longing glance at the baby. “First Leah, then you, and Ruth in a month. It will be Miriam next, I suppose.”

      “Miriam next for what?” Anna’s twin sister came hurrying down the steps in a new rose-colored dress, her prayer cap askew and her apron strings dangling.

      “Kapp,” Ruth reminded.

      Miriam rolled her eyes, straightened her head covering and tied her apron strings with a double knot behind her waist. “Satisfied?”

      “Ya.” Ruth, always the enforcer of proper behavior when out among the worldly English, nodded. “Much better.”

      “And what is it I’m next for?” Miriam asked, unwilling to have her question go unanswered.

      Anna chuckled again. “A boppli, of course. A baby of your own. A little wood chopper for Charley or a kitchen helper.”

      Miriam shrugged. “In God’s time. We haven’t been married that long. And it took Ruth and Eli ages to get around to it.” She glanced at Johanna with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How do you know it will be me? Maybe it will be your turn next. Look at you. You’ve got that look on your face when you hold Rose. You can’t wait to be a mother again.”

      “She’s right,” Ruth agreed. “You’ve mourned Wilmer long enough. It’s time you married again.”

      “To whom?”

      Miriam laughed. “You know who. I’ve heard you’ve been at his place three times this week. And cleaned his house.”

      “Only the kitchen. And he was only there the first day, the day J.J. was up the tree with the bees. The other two times he was off shoeing horses. I had to go check on the new hive. The swarm moved into my nuc box, and I’m getting free bees.” Johanna knew she was babbling on when she should have held her tongue. Arguing with Miriam always made things worse.

      “I see,” Miriam said. “You’re going to take care of the bees.”

      “Exactly. It doesn’t have anything to do with Roland.” Johanna sighed in exasperation. The trouble with being close to her sisters was that they knew everything. Nothing in her life was private, and all of them had an opinion they were all too willing to share. And the fact that they’d touched on a subject that had kept her awake late for the past few nights made her even more uncomfortable. First, she had to make up her own mind what she wanted. Then she would share her decision. “Who told you I went over to Roland’s three times? Rebecca or Irwin?”

      Ruth chuckled. “Just a little bird. But we’re serious. It’s not good for your children to be without a father. You know Roland would make a good dat. Even Mam says so. Roland owns his farm. No mortgage. And such a hard worker. He’ll be a good provider. And don’t forget he’s got a motherless son. You two should just stop turning your backs on each other and get married.”

      “Before someone else snaps him up,” Miriam quipped. “At Spence’s, I saw one of those Lancaster girls giving him the once-over. At the Beachys’ cheese stall. ‘Atch, Roland,’” she mimicked in a high, singsong voice. “‘A man alone shouldn’t eat so much cheddar and bologna in one week. Is not gut for your health. What you need is a wife to cook for you.’”

      Johanna flushed. It was too warm in the house. She went to the door and opened it, letting the breeze calm her unease. In the yard, Grace’s son, ’Kota, hung out the back door of Charley’s buggy, and Anna’s Mae bounced on the front seat. She couldn’t see Anna’s Lori Ann or Jonah, but she could hear Naomi telling them to settle down. “It’s not as easy to know what to do as you think,” Johanna said to her sisters. “People change.”

      “You haven’t changed,” Anna put in quietly. “What you felt for Roland years ago, that was real. It’s not too late for the two of you.”

      Johanna looked back at Anna. “You think I should fling myself at him?”

      Ruth folded her arms over her chest with determination. “It’s plain as the nose on your face that he still cares for you. If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d see it.”

      “What happened before...between you and him...it hurt you,” Anna continued. “I remember how you cried. But Roland was young then and sowing his oats. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive him?”

      Not forgive, but forget. Could I ever trust him again?

      “Miriam!” Charley shouted from outside. “Come take this horse! I don’t trust these kids with this mare, and I can’t stand here all day holding her. I’ve got work to do.”

      “Go. Have fun,” Ruth said. “But СКАЧАТЬ