Huckleberry Hill (20 page)

Moses shook his head and rubbed the left side of his face. “Rachel, let Lia be. She’s done nothing wrong.” Lia recognized a hint of crossness in his voice.

Maybe Rachel was starting to wear on him a bit. Whatever the reason, Lia felt grateful he had come to her defense. She couldn’t help it if the emptiness in her chest threatened to consume her every time she laid eyes on Moses.

Rachel rolled her eyes, plopped herself on the sofa, and pretended to read the newspaper.

Moses ignored her. “I get my stitches out tomorrow and a cast. Will you come with me?”

Rachel snapped her head up. “I want to come.”

Lia brushed her hand across the table in an imaginary search for crumbs. Moses wasn’t aware of how she felt about him and therefore couldn’t know the turmoil his request threw her into. He wanted her along because she kept her wits about her in a crisis, but the more time she spent with him, the greater the risk of disintegrating into a puddle of tears.

“I don’t mind if you take Rachel.”

Rachel scowled and slapped the paper down on the sofa. “I don’t need your permission. Who has taken care of Moses day and night since he got hurt?”

Moses’s gaze intensified until Lia had to look away. “Lia came with me to the hospital. She will know all the medication I have taken.”

Rachel waved her hand dismissively. “She can write all that down. I’m sick of sitting around this house without anything to do. I’m coming.”

Moses inclined his head to Rachel without looking at her. “Rachel can come if she wants, but I would appreciate it if you came too.” He must have seen that his pleas were going nowhere because he flashed that mischievous grin that Lia found charmingly irresistible.

But Lia’s heart was too heavy to be lifted by a set of perfectly straight teeth. If Rachel was going to be Moses’s wife, Moses must learn to put up with her fits of panic and anger. Rachel’s beauty came at a price.

Rachel stood and grabbed Moses’s crutches. “We don’t need Lia to come.”

Lia turned her back on them both. “Nae, you don’t need me.”

She deliberately kept her face away from them as she heard Rachel say, “Now take these crutches and get right back to bed, young man. I’m in charge of your care, and I won’t stand for such disobedience.”

Lia refused to watch Moses limp down the hall as she busied herself with nothing in the kitchen. Only when the sound of the rubber-tipped crutches faded did she turn and quickly finish the dishes.

Rachel had left the door to her room open—it wasn’t exactly proper to shut it—and the sound of her laughter skipping down the hall proved more than Lia could bear.

With slow, deliberate movements, she wiped up the water from the counter, slid Felty’s Bible from the side table, and sauntered out the front door. Once she shut it behind her, she lifted her skirts and raced into the woods without looking back.

The tears cascaded unimpeded down her face as she ran as far away from Moses as possible. Being careful not to repeat her embarrassing fall, she dodged bushes and branches and protruding roots, stumbling once but not falling. Her heaving lungs and burning legs did not slow her as she passed under ancient, majestic maples into a clearing on the north face of Huckleberry Hill. She quit running when she found herself in a purple sea of huckleberries.

Lia caught her breath at the sight. Huckleberry bushes grew all over Huckleberry Hill in small clumps like splashes from a spilled can of green paint, but here the ripe berries glowed in over two acres of concentrated, dazzling color. A ray of sunlight peeked through the blanket of summer clouds and seemed to illuminate the field of berries and nothing else. No wonder they had named it Huckleberry Hill. It was a sight Lia would never forget.

Moses had brought her here in late June, before Rachel had interfered with her perfect summer.

Thinking of Moses called forth fresh tears. Why had she come to Huckleberry Hill? She had been content enough in Wautoma, working alongside her father in the fields and helping Mamm in the kitchen. She had met Moses only to realize that she couldn’t have him. A soft moan came from deep in her throat. It would have been much better not to know.

“Do you always take your Bible with you on walks?”

Startled, Lia whirled around to see Felty wearing a new straw hat, carrying a small galvanized metal bucket, and grinning from ear to ear. He studied the book in her hand, which she had almost forgotten about. “Or is that my Bible?”

Lia brushed the tears from her face and tried to return his smile. It couldn’t be done. “I needed some comfort from the good word. I was in a hurry and took your scriptures instead of mine. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. The good book doesn’t do any good unless somebody’s reading it.” Felty stepped close and put a grandfatherly arm around her shoulder. Lia could tell he used to be taller, but now they were the same height, and he looked straight into her eyes. “Would you rather be alone? I can come back another time.”

“Nae.” No need to tell him that she would be fine as long as she was away from Moses and Rachel. “It’s silly that I let myself cry.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Everyone should indulge in a few tears now and then. It washes out the dust in your soul.”

“Did you come to pick berries? They are beautiful.”

“You should see the bushes come autumn. The leaves are so red, they look like they’re on fire.” He let his eyes drink in the sight. “I came to check if the berries are ripe. Then we can have a berry-picking frolic. I usually pick a few dozen and take them to Annie to taste, but you can do the tasting right here for me.”

“Don’t you like to taste them yourself?”

Felty put down his bucket, took off his hat, and wiped his forehead with a red bandanna from his pocket. “Oh, I can’t taste anything. My taste buds was seared, the doctor said.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t really remember. I think I was but three years old. I got into some kerosene and the fumes burned my nose and tongue. My lungs almost gave out, but I pulled through with a lot of prayer.”

“But you can’t taste anything?”

“Or smell much. I can smell real strong smells like a fresh pile of manure or a good, smoky fire. But I can’t tell when a huckleberry is ripe.”

A memory brought a smile to Lia’s face. In her mind’s eye, she saw Felty popping scorching hot meatballs into his mouth without a hint of discomfort.
The president of the United States doesn’t eat this well.
An adventurous cook like Anna couldn’t have asked for a more fitting husband.

Felty flashed her a puzzled grin. “I wish I saw that smile more often. You smiled all the time when you first came here, then Rachel showed up and you smiled less and less.”

Lia wrapped her arms around Felty’s Bible and hugged it to her chest. “I guess I don’t feel very happy.”

“When I’m troubled, I like to do my reading in Job. Helps me remember I don’t have many problems.”

Lia slumped her shoulders. “Job makes me feel guilty for ever feeling sorry for myself.”

Felty took her by the wrist and led her to a fallen tree at the edge of the berry patch. They sat, and he took his Bible from her hands. After leafing through the pages, he found what he looked for. “‘I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.’”

“Paul was one of the greatest men to ever live. I don’t measure up.”

Felty knit his brows together and began thumbing through pages again. Lia cast her gaze to the ground. Felty wouldn’t ever be able to find a scripture to solve her problems.

“Here’s a good one. ‘In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.’”

“I give thanks in my prayers every day,” Lia said.

Felty reached out his gnarled fingers and took Lia’s hand. She liked the feel of his hand—calloused and big, a farmer’s hands, hands of a man who hadn’t wasted one day of his life in idleness. “What are you grateful for?”

“I’m grateful for you and Anna, for inviting me here and being kind to me. I’m grateful for my family and my health. I’m grateful to Jesus for saving my soul. Many, many things.”

“Does thinking of that make you feel better?”

Lia breathed in the moist air. “Jah, of course.”

“That’s the easy part. Can you thank your Heavenly Father for the things you aren’t particularly grateful for?”

“I can’t think that deep.”

Felty opened his Bible again. “Don’t feel guilty, but I’m pulling out Job. ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’”

“I don’t think Job was very happy.”

“He knew where all things came from. He knew that he lived and breathed by the Lord’s good pleasure.” Felty grew solemn and got a faraway look in his eye. “When the Lord took three of my little ones, a prayer of gratitude in my heart every minute was the only thing that saw me through.”

His revelation stunned her. “You lost three children?”

Felty rubbed the side of his face and seemed to snap out of his sadness as he patted Lia’s hand. “My little Andrew drowned in a puddle of water no bigger than a bathtub. Martha Sue and Barty got hit by a car on the way to school.”

“How terrible! You must have been heartbroken.”

“It was like God ripped my heart right out of my chest. I thought of Job every minute of every day, and then Anna found that scripture about giving thanks. So I started thanking Father in Heaven for everything—for my three angels already in heaven and my ten angels still with us. I thanked Him for my sorrow because it brought me closer to Him and the memory of His Son on the cross. I got to thinking that He didn’t have to lend those children to me at all. I got two years with Andy and lots more than that with Martha Sue and Barty, and I am grateful for the time we had. I thank the Lord every day for His promises.” He turned the pages of his Bible once again. “‘And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain.’ That’s what I’m waiting for. To see my little ones again.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Felty lifted his eyes to heaven as if to catch a glimpse of his children. “God gave me a new heart. From then on, I decided to praise the Lord and to be happy. I choose to be happy.”

Lia took deliberate breaths to hold back her tears. “I feel like I have always been a cheerful person, but I can’t summon it now.”

“I had this very conversation with Moses when that girl left him three years ago. She put him down so low his chin scraped on the ground when he walked.”

“Well, he’s over it now.” Her voice cracked and she couldn’t finish. Felty glued his gaze to her face as she chastised herself for being so transparent.

Felty leaned back and almost fell off the fallen tree in an attempt to find a place to rest his hand. He slapped his knee energetically as if he’d solved the world’s greatest riddle. “This is where the rubber meets the road. All Annie Banannie’s scheming worked.”

“Please don’t tell anyone. If Rachel knew, things would get very unpleasant. Especially when Moses is my brother-in-law.”

Felty’s mouth fell open. “You think Moses is going to marry your sister?”

Lia’s words came out more like a sob than a reply. “Can you see why I’m so unhappy?”

Felty lifted his eyebrow and acted like he had a mouth full of news he wasn’t telling. “Moses is juggling so many balls that he doesn’t even know which way is up. He’s so concerned about Barbara and Rachel and your dat that he hasn’t noticed the nose on his face. The good news is that Moses’s mamm is my daughter, and she didn’t raise Moses to be a fool, even if he’s a little slow to see things clearly.”

Lia wished she could decipher what Felty tried to say. “So you won’t tell anybody?”

Felty made a show of zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the imaginary key. “Only, promise me you won’t cast Moses off like moldy bread yet.”

Lia lowered her eyes and nodded. “I will try.”

“You can choose to be happy. Try thanking the Lord for things you’re not grateful for.”

Lia hesitated, reluctant to reveal her uncharitable thoughts. “I don’t know. . . .”

“Try it.”

“Thank you, Lord, that Rachel is here on Huckleberry Hill with me.”

Felty smirked and nodded.

“I am grateful that Rachel is here because she is teaching me patience.”

“Gute. What else?”

“I am grateful I am tall. I never have to strain my neck to see the preacher at gmay.” Lia didn’t want to feel better, but the invisible burden of gloom lifted somewhat. “I am grateful that Moses broke his leg so we can take care of him.” Even though his eyes, twinkling with amusement, broke her heart every day.

Felty snapped the Bible shut and stood up without even a nudge from Lia. “Now, daylight’s a-wasting. Let’s test these huckleberries.”

He hobbled to the nearest bush and plucked three plump berries from a leafy branch. He handed them to Lia, and she popped them into her mouth. She puckered her lips when the juice met her tongue. “They’re tart.”

“How tart? Do they taste green or will a spoon of sugar do the trick?”

“I think they’re ready.”

“Gute. We can send the word out to the children and tell them we’ll have a berry frolic tomorrow. We make huckleberry jam and maple syrup for the market.”

“That will be wonderful gute.”

Felty stuffed a few berries in his mouth. “Mark my words. All you need to do to push Moses over the edge is to make him a wild huckleberry pie.”

Push him over the edge of what? A cliff? It didn’t matter. Rachel would take credit for whatever Lia baked for Moses. Lia clenched her fists and clamped her eyes shut.