Huckleberry Harvest (16 page)

“Why do we need to take it to the barn?”

Mammi’s eyes twinkled like a night of a million stars. “You’ll see.”

Mandy thought she might rather have a toothache than bother Noah, especially if he was going to be irritated again. “I can carry it, Mammi,” she said, before actually trying to lift it off the cupboard.

Maybe not.

Mandy dragged her feet to the front door. If the jug was needed in the barn, Noah was the only one to carry it. No one else on Huckleberry Hill was strong enough. But he would never finish that roof if he had to be the fetch-and-carry boy.

She walked outside. Noah had set up the scaffolding in front of the house to the side of the covered porch so Mammi and Dawdi could still get in and out of the house. The wagon sat on the lawn next to the scaffolding for Noah to dump old shingles into the back of it. He had unhitched his team. They were probably in the small pasture with Pepper. They wouldn’t be needed until later when he was ready to haul the old shingles away.

Mandy patted Chester on the head as she walked by. Wearing heavy work gloves and a slim pair of protective goggles, Noah stood on the scaffolding with a shingle fork, a four-pronged flat pitchfork, ready to scrape the old shingles off the roof. A plastic garbage bin sat next to him so he could throw the old shingles into it and then dump them into the wagon when the bin was full. His face was already dripping with sweat, even though it couldn’t have been more than fifty-five degrees outside. She tried not to stare at the muscles bulging underneath his shirt or the agile way he maneuvered a shingle fork, as if it weighed no more than a stick.

Before he could turn around and catch sight of her, she marched back into the house. She couldn’t, just couldn’t, ask him to stop what he was doing and help her with the lemonade. If they must, they’d transport it to the barn one cupful at a time.

Mammi sampled lemonade from a little cup. “Is he coming?”

“I’ll take it, Mammi,” Mandy said, resolving to haul that thing all the way to the barn or die trying.

Without waiting for Mammi’s protests, Mandy hefted the jug from the cupboard to the floor. It landed with a thud and probably left a dent in the wood, but nothing spilled and both Mammi and Mandy’s toes were uninjured. Grasping one of the handles, Mandy dragged the jug across the kitchen floor, shoved it over the lip of the threshold, and tugged it across the porch to the steps.

With clipboard and paper cups in hand, Mammi followed to watch Mandy’s progress. “Those stairs aren’t going to be easy. You’ll be all sweaty and wrinkled for your young men. Are you sure we shouldn’t just ask Noah? He won’t mind. He’s such a gute boy.”

Mandy reassured her mammi with a smile, grunted like a grizzly bear, and lugged the jug down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she sat the jug on the grass and massaged her arms. Her muscles felt as if they’d been stretched beyond repair and she thought she might have pulled her shoulders from their sockets, but at least the lemonade was headed in the right direction.

After a brief rest, she grasped one handle with both hands and pulled the jug through the grass, walking backward and putting her back into it. Chester thought she was playing a game. He wagged his tail and yipped and tried to clean Mandy’s face with his tongue.

“Chester, not now,” she scolded. He stopped mid-bark, sat on his haunches, and gazed at her with that wise look on his face. Most obedient dog ever.

She was momentarily hindered when the jug met a depression in the grass that she couldn’t wrench it out of.

“Do you want me to give you a push?” Mammi said.

She sensed him coming up behind her before she saw him. Noah placed his hand over hers around the jug handle. She turned her head and found his face within inches of hers. “Mandy,” he said, frowning in concern, “you are going to kill yourself.”

With heart racing too wildly to say anything coherent, she let go of the handle, stood up straight, and pursed her lips like a child caught stealing cookies from the jar. What did he mean smelling like leather and sweat and touching her hand like that? How could he expect a girl to make an intelligent reply with that concerned expression on his face and those arms that looked as if they’d been chiseled out of stone?

“Mammi and I are doing a test,” she stuttered.

“A test?” he said as he grasped the jug with both hands and lifted it as if it were empty. “A lemonade test?”

“It’s all part of the plan to find Mandy a husband,” Mammi said. “I’m glad you came along to help. I told Mandy to fetch you first thing to do the carrying.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Mandy said, making a conscious effort not to let her eyes stray to his well-defined biceps. Who cared if Noah had muscles? Everybody had muscles. She flexed her own arm. She had muscles. No need to obsess about muscles.

He headed toward the barn. She followed him. “It’s no trouble for me,” he said, “while it could mean weeks in the hospital for you.”

“Weeks in the hospital?”

“You could have dropped this jug and shattered every bone in your foot.”

Mandy raised her eyebrows. “I’m not that weak.”

“Of course you’re not weak. But this jug is heavy. I know. I saw you try to drag it across the lawn.”

They walked into the barn where Dawdi sharpened his pruning shears. “Where would you like this lemonade, Anna?” Noah asked.

Mammi pointed to the five-foot-high stack of hay bales that had been delivered three days ago. “Right here on one of these bales would be perfect. Denki, Noah. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Noah placed the jug on the cement floor, pulled a hay bale off the tall stack, and set the jug on top of it. “Okay,” he said, giving Mandy a quick smile. He turned on his heels and marched out of the barn as if he were running from a fire. Mandy was slightly disappointed. She knew he had to get back to the roof, but couldn’t he have stayed just another minute or two to help Dawdi with the shears or to let her give him a tour of the barn?

Hearing voices, male voices, Mandy peered out of the open doors. Noah was standing just outside the barn shaking hands with a group of Amish boys. Her heart thudded like a sledgehammer against cement, and she thought she might be ill. They were gathered around Noah, so it was hard to tell how many boys there actually were, but she counted at least nine straw hats.

Oh dear. What was Mammi planning on doing with nine Amish boys?

“They’re here,” Mammi said, beaming as if all her grandchildren had come for an extended stay. “I must have told them eleven o’clock.”

Dawdi looked up from his pruning shears. “How do you do it, Annie Banannie? You are a miracle worker.”

“Now, Felty,” Mammi said, giggling as if she were a little girl being teased by a cute second-grader.

Three more boys ambled up the lane followed by a buggy with at least two occupants.

Mandy stared at the herd of young men as her jaw slowly sank to the floor. “How did you persuade all of them to come?”

“Well,” Mammi said, smoothing her apron and sitting on one of the sturdy hay bales, “we’re blessed it’s a Saturday. Most of them didn’t have to take a day off work. I told them I am looking for somebody to do a job, and I needed them to come and do an interview.”

Mandy sat next to her mammi. “You told a fib?”

Mammi looked horrified at the very thought. “Of course not. I
am
looking for somebody to do a job. The job is to marry my granddaughter.”

Mandy regarded her mammi doubtfully. “You make it sound so unpleasant, like a chore.”

Mammi patted her knee. “Oh, my dear. None of these boys would think it unpleasant to marry you. That’s one of the reasons I was able to convince them to come. They think you’re pretty. I told them that you would be here and that you would be helping me do the interviews.”

Now she knew positively that she was going to be sick. How could she face anybody after today? While shaking hands with Davy Burkholder, Noah glanced back at her and then just as quickly looked away. What was going through his mind? Was he secretly laughing, or did he pity her?

Mammi cradled her clipboard in her arm and jotted a few notes at the top of her paper. “Your dawdi and I went to every home in both districts this morning to round up suitable boyfriends.”

“I just can’t believe they all showed up.” And she couldn’t believe this was happening. She now understood how it might be possible to die of embarrassment.

Mammi looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “I must confess, I also promised them each a plate of cookies.”

This news made Mandy feel worse. No one would be lured to a “job” interview with the promise of a plate of Mammi’s cookies.

“And a glass of lemonade.”

Wearing a crooked smile, Felty concentrated on sharpening his pruners. “Be sure to save a glass for Noah. He’ll be sweating something wonderful come suppertime.”

Mammi set the paper cups next to the jug, clutched her clipboard to her chest, and cocked her pencil at the ready. “Felty, will you go out there and let the boys in one at a time?”

Ach, du lieva
. Mandy would have rather been anywhere but here. The shame was absolutely unbearable.

She squared her shoulders. Noah said she was strong. She would bear the humiliation for dear Mammi, whose only goal in life was to make her grandchildren happy. Besides, it would give her and Noah something to laugh about later on.

In no hurry whatsoever, Dawdi shuffled out of the barn and closed the doors behind him.

Mammi grabbed Mandy’s elbow and bobbed her head up and down excitedly. “Are you ready? This is going to be so much fun. I’m glad you wore the baby-blue dress today. It brings out your eyes.”

Mandy swallowed hard. As long as her eyes didn’t fall out of her head, she’d be okay.

The barn had two rows of small windows near the ceiling, so Mammi and Mandy had sufficient light to see by, even when the doors were closed. But still, light flooded the barn when one of the doors swung open. Mandy’s cousin Titus stuck his head into the barn. Mandy nearly giggled with relief. “Dawdi said I should go first,” Titus said. The toothpick in his mouth bobbed up and down as he spoke.

Mammi sighed in good-natured exasperation. “Titus, what are you doing here?”

“Freeman says you’re hiring somebody for a job.” He walked farther into the barn and regarded Mammi, sitting on the hay bale like a queen on her throne. He furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you, Titus,” Mammi said. “But don’t be offended. You are definitely not going to get this job.”

“But why not? I’m a gute worker, and after the corn’s in, I’ll have more time on my hands.”

“I’m sure you’re a fine worker,” Mammi said. “Your dat raised you, and I raised your dat. I made sure my
kinner
worked hard every day.” She patted the hay bale next to her and Mandy. “Cum, sit, and I will tell you a secret.”

Titus sat down and put his arm around Mammi. “You’re matching Mandy, aren’t you?”

Mandy groaned. If Titus had figured it out, then nobody else had been fooled either.

Mammi widened her eyes. “How did you know?”

“Your apron pocket is bulging with pot holders.”

“Oh dear,” Mammi said, pulling the bright pot holders from her pocket. “I’ll have to hide these.” She stuffed them into the crack between the two hay bales and smiled at Titus. “Since you’ve taken all this time to come up here, we can try our test on you. It will be gute practice when the real boys come in.”

“I’m a real boy,” Titus said.

“Ach, Titus, you know what I mean.”

Titus pulled the toothpick out of his mouth. He only did that when things were serious. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stand up and scoot that hay bale to where you’ll have a little more space,” Mammi said.

Mandy was just as curious as Titus as to what Mammi had in mind. Titus did as he was told.

Mammi nodded. “Now I want you to lift that bale over your head.”

Titus looked as if he’d swallowed a slimy frog. “What? Why?”

Mandy giggled at the look on Titus’s face. Although tall—he was a Helmuth, after all—Titus was of a slight build. Noah’s thick arms made Titus’s look like twigs.

Mammi didn’t notice his expression because she was making notes on her clipboard. “Can you do it?”

Titus’s mouth fell open, and he looked at Mandy, appealing for help. “It’s gotta weigh at least a hundred pounds.”

Mammi smiled pleasantly at Titus and made her voice sweet and soft as she always did when one of her grandchildren needed a little extra encouragement. “You move hay all the time on your farm.”

“Jah, Mammi, but not over my head.”

“Just try it, dear.”

Titus wrapped his fingers around the two pieces of thick twine that held the hay bale together. Grunting, he managed to raise the bale to the level of his shoulders before his arms gave out and he let go. The bale tumbled to the floor with a quiet thud and a swish, showing no evidence of how heavy it really was.

“That was real good,” Mandy said, trying to be encouraging. “Those things are heavy.”

Titus winced and massaged his back. “I think I bulged a disc or something.”

Mandy understood what Mammi had planned for all those boys waiting in line outside the barn. A muscle test.

Her face felt as if it were on fire. Could things get any worse?

Jah, they could.

“Titus,” Mammi said, studying her clipboard, “do you know how to swim?”

Titus gazed doubtfully at Mammi. “You know I do. Dawdi taught me.”

Mammi made a few more notes on her paper while Titus watched her in confused silence. She tapped her pencil on the clipboard. “You did your very best. That’s what counts with God. He doesn’t look on outward appearance.”

“Okay,” Titus said. “Can I have a glass of lemonade now?”