Huckleberry Hill (26 page)

Moses huffed out a breath and shook his head. “This is not one of those ultimatums. I don’t want to marry you.”

Barbara was the second girl he’d said those words to in less than forty-eight hours. Could things get any more absurd? “Even if you came back to Bonduel tonight, I wouldn’t marry you. I don’t love you anymore.”

Eyeing him in disbelief, Barbara stood up and paced the length of the small room. “I thought you were different, Moses. The boy I fell in love with wouldn’t break a promise, no matter how hard it got. The boy I fell in love with was faithful to a fault.” She stopped moving and stared at him with anger flashing in her eyes. “What happened to that boy?”

“The girl I fell in love with asked me to give her some time. Six months, you said.”

“I said a few months. I never thought you, of all people, would give up on me. I thought I could trust you.”

Moses patted the bench. “Barbara, come sit down—”

She gazed at him intently and sank to the seat next to him. “You told me you’d wait. I finish school in four months.”

Moses leaned away from her and folded his arms in resignation. “And after that, you’re planning on coming home?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I have to pay off my car.”

Moses pinned her with a knowing look. “And after that?”

Barbara’s frown deepened, and she massaged a spot directly above her eyebrow. “I might want to start my own business.”

“How long were you planning on keeping me guessing? Four more months? Three more years?”

“I’ll know better what I want when school is over. I really like it here, but maybe by December I’ll decide I’d rather go home.”

Moses stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Barbara. You’re not coming back.”

Slowly exhaling, Barbara turned her face away. She remained silent for a few moments and mulled things over. “You could move out here with me,” she said softly.

“I won’t do that, and you know it.”

“But I still love you,” she said weakly, as if knowing it didn’t make any difference.

“You did once,” Moses said, a slight smile curling his lips, “but now you love the world more. Your job, your car. Those fingernails.”

A giggle mingled with a sigh burst from Barbara’s lips.

Moses chuckled, and their eyes met. Studying her face, he could pinpoint the moment she resigned herself to the fact that she’d lost him.

He wanted to explain, maybe to justify himself for finally letting go. He had prized loyalty above all else. “I kept telling myself that you’d be back because I couldn’t live with the alternative. But I’ve been living with persistent unhappiness. I can’t live like that anymore, and it’s unfair of you to ask me to wait, to waste the best years of my life on a false hope.”

Barbara laced her fingers through his. “I never meant for it to be hard on you. My folks wouldn’t have anything to do with me, and knowing you would always be waiting gave me the courage to come out here. You were my backup plan in case things got too hard. I guess I was being pretty selfish.”

“I’m not going to be your backup plan anymore, Barb. I have my own life to live, and I’m not going to spend it waiting.”

Tears glistened in Barbara’s eyes. “Is there somebody else?”

Moses’s heart did a flip. “Jah.”

“A good Amish girl?”

“The most wonderful Amish girl ever.”

“I hope she deserves you.”

“I hope I deserve her.”

“Then I have to let you go.” Barbara leaned over and pulled Moses into an embrace. This time he didn’t pull back. “I love you, Moses.”

“But not enough. And that’s okay.”

“Then it’s time for me to truly find my wings.”

“Time for both of us.”

The stall door flew open and a young teenage girl with an armload of clothes squeaked and turned bright red when she saw them.

They quickly pulled apart and slid away from each other on the bench.

“Sorry,” the girl said. “I didn’t know anybody was in here.”

She backed out of the stall and shut the door as softly as she could, as if Moses and Barbara would forget she had even been there. They could still see her feet under the door as they heard her yell, “Hey, there are two people making out in here!”

In surprise, Moses and Barbara locked gazes, and it took three full minutes before they stopped laughing.

Chapter Twenty

Six
A.M.
, too early for a social call, but Moses couldn’t wait one more minute to proclaim his love. He would have come over last night, but he hadn’t returned until twelve from Minneapolis—too late for even Moses’s impatient heart. Neither Lia nor his grandparents would have taken kindly to a midnight caller. He had arisen two hours earlier to clumsily do his early-morning chores and hitch up the buggy. Everything took twice as long on crutches, but he wanted to be bright and early to Huckleberry Hill.

The dim light of morning cast a golden glow over Mammi and Dawdi’s tiny farm as the gravel crunched beneath the buggy wheels. Moses pulled back on the reins and set the brake. He decided to unhitch the horse. Even though it would take extra time doing it with crutches, he wanted to spend the whole day with Lia. Sammy would need to be stalled.

A slight breeze whispered through the trees overhead, and a black rooster, perched on a fence post, fluttered its wings and studied Moses indifferently. A chickadee whistled his two-note song into the air as Moses fed Sammy a handful of oats. After his experience yesterday, Moses briefly closed his eyes and savored the peace.

But there wasn’t much time to spare. His eagerness to see Lia would not let him linger.

With any luck, Rachel would still be abed, and he and Lia could slip out of the house unnoticed. He could ask her to marry him in the privacy of the barn.

Moses knitted his brows together. The barn, with dust motes floating in the air like snowflakes and unsavory odors attacking the nostrils, wasn’t a very romantic spot. They could ride horses to the east side of the hill and watch the sun make its morning trip across the sky, except that they would waste a lot of time saddling the horses when they could be kissing.

Moses shook his head a few times to bridle his galloping daydreams. One kiss would be plenty. Two at most. He thought of those soft, inviting lips. Would Lia think it improper if he kissed her three times? Three kisses. He would limit himself to three. He could control himself, even though his love for Lia threatened to explode from his chest. He wouldn’t even have to bend in half to reach her lips.

The memory of their first kiss came unbidden to his mind. Even with his mouth on fire, he could tell her lips were silky soft.

Four kisses. No more.

But what if Lia didn’t want to kiss him?

Pulling the scooter out of his buggy, he did his best to bury that thought so it would never resurface. If Lia didn’t return his love, he might just dry up and blow away. The very possibility made him ill as he slowly unhitched his horse and hopped to the barn with the lead firmly in his fist.

Once he settled Sammy, Moses retrieved his scooter, rolled to the front porch, hopped up the steps, and opened the door.

Mammi, Dawdi, and Rachel were at the table eating breakfast. Mammi sat with her back ramrod straight, sipping a cup of coffee. Rachel picked at her food as if she were trying to separate worms and crickets on the plate.

“Hello!” Moses shouted, leaning his bad leg on the scooter and throwing his arms out wide. The door banged against the wall behind it. His enthusiasm probably put a dent in the plaster.

Mammi and Rachel acted as if there were a contest to see who could stand up the fastest. They leaped to their feet and attacked Moses from either side.

Rachel smiled so wide, Moses had a good view of her twelve-year molars.

Mammi, on the other hand, clicked her tongue and looked like she was about to scold her seven-year-old grandson. “Where have you been, young man? We haven’t seen hide nor hair of you for two days.”

He took a step back so he wouldn’t lose his balance with two women hovering over him. “I went out of town.”

Mammi wagged her finger at him. “Out of town? You could at least tell your mammi these things.” She shook her head and motioned at the table. “Cum, sit and have some breakfast. I made quiche. We have important things to discuss.”

Moses glanced at the table. Some sort of soupy egg mixture floated in a pie tin. One of Mammi’s new creations, no doubt.

Rachel batted her eyelashes and flashed a fake smile. “If you stay for supper, I’ll make those rolls you like so much.”

Moses’s heart sank. Rachel’s voice dripped with sugary sweetness. Maple-syrup-mixed-with-honey sweetness. Either she had decided to forgive him for not wanting to marry her, or she was redoubling her efforts. And she didn’t seem the forgiving kind.

“Where’s Lia?”

Rachel’s smile grew wider and more fake. “She’s gone.”

“Where is she? I’ll go fetch her.”

After glancing at Dawdi, Rachel began lightly stroking Moses’s arm. “Poor, sweet girl. Dat came by two days ago to take her home.”

A puff of wind could have knocked Moses over. “Home? Why would . . .” His voice trailed off as the obvious reason caught up to him. Disbelief left him barely able to speak. “Rachel,” he whispered, “what have you done?”

Rachel stroked Moses’s arm double-time until he pulled away from her. “My dear dat wanted her home, and that dear, sweet girl wanted to go.” Rachel caught Dawdi’s eye and nodded.

A ghost of a smirk crossed Dawdi’s lips before he looked away and took another bite of whatever that was on his plate.

“Of all the nonsense,” Mammi said as she sat down at the table and picked up her coffee cup.

The anger boiled so hot inside Moses that he could almost feel the steam rise from his body. He had underestimated Rachel Shetler. She wasn’t bright enough to recognize when a man didn’t want her, but she knew when to call her daddy.

This blasted leg wouldn’t let him go anywhere with ease, or he would have shot out that door and run to the barn where he could yell at Rachel without being heard by anybody.

It took all the strength he had not to lash out at her.
Whosoever is angry with his brother is in danger of hellfire.
Moses did not trust himself to reply just yet. He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. Another deep breath.

“That is the most selfish thing I’ve seen anyone ever do,” he finally said. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Rachel’s face turned various shades of pink before blooming bright red, but her voice still oozed that syrupy sweetness. “Moses, you must understand how concerned I am for Lia’s feelings. She is such a dear girl, and if you pay her attention, you’ll just get her hopes up. I won’t let her be hurt like that. My dat and I both thought it would be for her own good to be at home. And don’t you worry about the cooking. I consider it a privilege to take care of all of you.” Rachel turned to his grandparents and spread her arms wide, as if inviting the whole world to join in her benevolence.

Heavenly Father
, he prayed silently,
please calm my fiery anger and give me patience.

Moses’s heartbeat gradually slowed from a gallop to a trot. He gazed down at short, little Rachel and suddenly felt sorry for her. How could he not pity a girl who had no love in her heart for anyone but herself?

He looked to his grandparents to see how they bore this kerfuffle. Dawdi sat placidly, eating his runny eggs and pretending not to hear the conversation, a wisp of a smile playing at his lips.

Mammi spoke with an edge of scold in her voice, but her eyes twinkled as if she knew a secret. “Oh, Rachel, you are such a tease. Besides, Moses, Wautoma is only an hour away by car.”

Moses perked up considerably. Of course. The distance to Wautoma was nothing. He often got so caught up in his own little world that he forgot how close things were by car. He could go back to the cheese factory, call a driver, and be engaged to Lia by nine o’clock.

Lia’s dat wouldn’t like it, but at this point, it might be impossible to gain his approval. Moses could bring Lia back to Huckleberry Hill until they were married in the winter. It was a perfect plan.

His heart soared to the sky and a smile wider than a country mile bloomed on his face.

Not wanting to waste any time, he backed out the door instead of trying to turn his scooter around.

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked, a hint of desperation in her silky voice.

“To Wautoma to bring Lia back where she belongs.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes and lost all pretense of sweetness. Balling her hands into fists and stomping her delicate little foot, she said, “I told you—”

“Do you want to come with me? You can pack your things, and I’ll drop you off while I’m there.”

Moses had to hold his breath to keep from laughing out loud at her expression. She held her mouth open like a trout out of water and blinked her eyes as if she were attempting to fan up a breeze.

He had accomplished something he’d never been able to do before. He’d rendered Rachel speechless.

Moses took her silence as a refusal. “Mammi and Dawdi, if I succeed in bringing Lia back, can she stay with you for a few more months?”

If Mammi’s smile would have been hooked up to a generator, she could have powered the lights in three counties. “What a gute boy you are. You’ve always been one of my favorite grandsons.” She rose from the table again and reached for her secret hiding place. The blue porcelain canister said “sugar” on it, but Mammi used it to hide things from the grandchildren, like after-supper treats or Christmas surprises. Mammi lifted the lid and retrieved an envelope from inside. “Lia wrote you this note right before she left. I reckon you can read it on your way out of town.”

Moses grinned at scowling Rachel and took the envelope even as he scooted backward out of the house.

“Denki, Mammi.”

“Keep your eye out for license plates,” Dawdi called.

“Wautoma gets more traffic.”

By the time Moses hopped down the stairs, Rachel found her voice. “Go ahead,” she yelled, “make a fool of yourself.” She slammed the door so hard the front window rattled. It was a good thing Moses had installed that glass nice and tight.

With no intention of waiting one more minute to read his letter, Moses rolled to the buggy and leaned against it. The letter could mean the realization of all his hopes. Maybe Lia had wanted to tell him how she felt before her father carted her back to Wautoma.

If Moses was sure of Lia’s affection, he could go to Wautoma with less trepidation.

Eagerly, he tore open the blank envelope and pulled out the card, written on the same stationery Lia had used for her note to him three days ago.

 

Moses stumbled over the last line as if the words had tripped him. He read it again. And again. Forgetting his surroundings, he crumpled the letter into his fist and stood by his buggy, paralyzed by the thoughts whipping about in his head like sand in a dust devil.

This had to be a trick. Surely this was a trick by Rachel or her fater. Lia wouldn’t say such a thing in a letter.

Moses opened his fist and studied the handwriting. It was Lia’s, all right. No one else curled the tails of her
y
’s and
g
’s like Lia did.

Still, it could be a trick. Perhaps her dat forced her to write it, hoping Moses would turn his attention to Rachel.

With growing dread, Moses reread the note. As far as he knew, he and Lia were the only two who knew about the meatballs. There was no reason she would include that bit of information if her dat had insisted she write it.

He didn’t want to believe she wrote it. It would mean he had no hope left.

He pressed his fist to his chest to keep his dreams from shattering into a million pieces.

Shutting his eyes, he thought of Barbara—so young and pretty. He’d fallen in love with her enthusiasm. Her quitting the community was, to Moses, like dying by degrees. He sensed her withdrawal from him a little more every day, and he’d felt powerless to do anything but watch her go.

Her leaving had cut deep. Even three years ago, he probably knew without saying that she would not return, but he held on to the hope because he didn’t want to deal with the crushing pain. He’d been such a coward—recoiling from what Barbara might do and afraid of being hurt—that he’d let her drag it out.

Everybody knew that it was easier to rip a bandage from the skin rather than prolong the pain by peeling it back slowly and deliberately.

He should have let Barbara go. He would have gotten over the pain and been ready to sweep Lia off her feet when she finally came into his life.

Too late he’d realized how much he loved Lia and how little he had shown it.

Moses glanced at the house. Rachel stood at the window, smiling and waving as if she hadn’t just slammed the door in rage.

With a sinking heart and no idea what to do next, Moses shoved his scooter into his horseless buggy and grabbed his crutches. He shouldn’t have unhitched the horse.

He would go home.

Moses halted in his tracks.

Go home and wallow in self-pity for three more years?

Suddenly he saw himself more clearly than he ever had before. He’d been using Barbara as a crutch. A crutch so he wouldn’t actually have to face rejection and heartache and life. Moses looked at the crutches tucked under his arms. It was time to quit hiding behind his fears and be a man.

He couldn’t lose Lia.

He refused to lose her.