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Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

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BOOK: Huckleberry Spring
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Lizzie found her voice first. “How could you, Mahlon? You know how much I want Emma and Ben to get back together.”
Mahlon pressed his lips together and looked as if he wouldn’t utter another word for the rest of his life.
“So you see, you can’t make Ben jealous,” Emma said. “He wants to get rid of me.”
“I don’t believe it,” Lizzie said. “He isn’t thinking straight.” She looked at Mahlon. “Would Wallace be willing to help us make Ben jealous?”
Mahlon shrugged. “Maybe Emma’s right. Maybe we should—”
“Would he help us?” Lizzie said, scowling with her whole face.
“Probably.”
“Stop this,” Emma said. “You’re supposed to be offering me comfort, not plotting against your own brother.”
Lizzie tapped her chin with her index finger. “How are we going to make Ben jealous when he seems to want other boys to date Emma? It doesn’t make sense.”
Emma snatched her crutches from the ground and stood up. “I’m finished with the both of you.” She shoved her finger in Mahlon’s direction. “If you ask any more boys to take me out, I’ll crack an egg on your head in your sleep. And, Lizzie, I don’t want to hear another word about deceiving Ben. He doesn’t deserve it.” She had to show them she was perfectly capable of moving on without Ben. Now, while he was still in town. Even if she didn’t believe it herself. “I’ve changed my mind about not returning to Huckleberry Hill. Even if we’re together every day, you’ll see that Ben won’t ever want me back, even if I burn down every chicken coop from here to Florida.”
“But Emma . . .”
“And I’m going to go to that bonfire with Adam Wengerd and have a wonderful-gute time.” She lifted her chin and practically dared them to contradict her. Neither said a word. They were too busy being surprised at her boldness.
Gute. Maybe they would think long and hard about trying to kill her.
She hobbled out of the barn and made a beeline for the house, still able to hear Mahlon and Lizzie discussing boys and weddings. But she refused to listen to another word. Now that she’d gotten used to them, she could be pretty speedy on those crutches.
 
 
Ben shuffled out of the barn with a galvanized metal bucket. His hands were tingling as if they had fallen asleep and his knees felt as if someone had jabbed a screwdriver into each of them, but he had to get those peas off the vine. Emma proved to be too good a gardener. The trellises overflowed with peas, and by tomorrow, the ripe pods would grow too big to be sweet.
Even with the debilitating tightness, he wasn’t about to wait for Emma to do his picking. No one would take up the slack for him while he had any strength left. In Florida he’d trained himself to work around the stiffness. It was a part of him, but he refused to let it defeat him. He flexed his leg muscles. Some days it definitely felt like he was losing the battle.
He stopped short at the trellis of pea plants as he came upon a bucket brimming with pea pods. Somebody had already picked this morning. He gazed around the garden. Had Emma come early? Or maybe Mammi had picked them before he awoke. She would have had to get up before the rooster. And Dawdi? He hadn’t budged from that chair in a week even though the doctor told him the pain would only last a few days.
He heard Dawdi’s clear voice ringing through the air. So much for relaxing in his recliner. “
In my childhood days, when I was strong, I could climb to the hilltops all day long, I am not in my prime like I used to be, Time has made a change in me.

His grandparents came around the side of the barn holding hands. Dawdi wore both of his work boots, and he didn’t even limp. He stopped his song when he spied Ben. “Look who’s up.”
“Ben, did you see my pumpkin?” Mammi said. “It’s just a little nub of a thing.”
Ben stood up straighter. His grandparents needed to see how vital and healthy he should have felt. “Emma says when it gets going, it can grow twenty-five pounds a day.”
Mammi’s eyes twinkled. “She’s coming to tend the garden today.”
Ben nodded.
“It would be a gute time to ask her to Adam Wengerd’s bonfire. They’re having a bonfire after the haystack supper.”
Ben took a deep breath. “She already has an invitation. Adam is taking her.”
Mammi’s jaw dropped in indignation. “Adam Wengerd? Ben, you were supposed to ask her. Bonfires with
die youngie
are always so lovely. The perfect place to rekindle old romances.” She nudged Felty. “Remember when we took Tyler and Beth to a bonfire?”
Felty’s mouth twitched in amusement. “She got so mad at him, she stormed off and he had to chase after her and apologize. And when we got there, we found out he had a date with a different girl.”
“Now, Felty. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Mammi looked pointedly at Ben. “Your cousin Beth and Tyler Yoder are very happy together. All because of that bonfire.”
“Then I suppose Adam and Emma will be very happy together after this bonfire.” He shouldn’t have said it. Mammi’s expression drooped like a snowman in April.
Emma hadn’t said a word, not one word to him since last Thursday when Adam had asked her to the bonfire. He’d really done it this time, and there would be no recovering from such a mistake. If she hadn’t before, she surely hated him now. It was better for her if she did hate him. Then at least the anger could replace the hurt and hopefully eventually give way to indifference.
Even though a knife twisted in his chest at the thought, he truly wanted Emma to be indifferent. Then she would stop hurting so badly.
“Well, then. I hope Adam and Emma have a nice time.” Mammi pursed her lips together and paused as if she were measuring her words carefully. “I think being around two old people for so long, you’ve become too serious. You need to get out and have some fun. Won’t you go to the bonfire anyway? Just to be sociable?”
Although it would be pure torture to see Emma enjoying herself with another young man, Ben would go to the bonfire, partly because he’d been invited and mostly to watch out for Emma. Adam had no idea the destructive force he would be unleashing when he put Emma near an open flame. Someone needed to be there to protect Emma from herself.
Ben attempted a pleasant, dutiful expression. “I’ll go to the bonfire, Mammi.”
Mammi burst into a smile and patted his cheek. “You’ll have a wonderful-gute time.”
Her reaction pulled a genuine smile from Ben. Mammi truly loved to see her grandchildren happy. If only she knew that Ben could never be happy again.
Her eyes got big. “No one asked me to bring any food. I suppose they think I’m too busy with Felty laid up.”
That wasn’t the reason Mammi hadn’t been asked to bring any food, but Ben wasn’t about to enlighten her as to the real reason.
“I think I’ll take a dessert, all the same,” Mammi said. “Something with pumpkin in it, like pumpkin rhubarb pie. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”
“Delicious, Banannie,” Dawdi said. Ben marveled at how sincere Dawdi always seemed to be in his compliments about Mammi’s cooking.
As easy as you please, Dawdi strolled to the peach trees and plucked a small green fruit from the nearest tree. “These are coming along real gute, Ben. You did a crackerjack job thinning them. They’ll be nice and big.”
Ben put his arm around his mammi. “I’ve had a wonderful-gute time helping you this spring.”
“Sunday is officially the first day of summer. June twenty-first,” Dawdi said.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Dawdi, and I’m glad I could help you on the farm. But now it’s time for me to get back to Florida. I can leave on the bus Friday morning.”
“We’ll miss you something terrible,” Dawdi said. “You’re the kind of boy we want around all the time.”
Mammi glanced at Dawdi and pasted a smile on her face. “But you can’t go yet. The worst surgery of all is coming up.”
“Worst of all?” Ben said.
“Worst of all?” Dawdi said.
Mammi nodded. “Do you remember when Dawdi had to get that tooth pulled three years ago?”
“Nae.”
“The dentist wants to put in a new tooth so Felty can chew his food even when he gets old.”
“A new tooth?” Dawdi said, as if this was news to him.
“The dentist has to put a screw into the bone and then attach a false tooth to the screw. It will stay securely in place that way.”
“Annie, I—”
“Now, Felty,” Mammi scolded, “I know that tooth has been bothering you for a long time. I won’t have you being unselfish about this. You need this surgery, and we will scrape together enough money to do it, even if we have to skip one meal every day. Your health is more important than anything in the world.”
Ben nodded. “She’s right, Dawdi. We want you to be around for a very long time.”
“It is a little known fact that dental health can prolong your life,” Mammi said, sounding like some sort of expert herself. She put her hand on Ben’s arm. “I know this is a lot to ask of you, but if you could stay for a few more weeks . . .”
He should have said no. He really did need to get back to Florida, where he always saw the sun and he never saw Emma Nelson. Mammi and Dawdi had plenty of grandchildren who could help them take care of the farm. Moses lived not fifteen minutes away and Ben’s own brother Titus wasn’t much farther, plus at least ten others who surely wouldn’t mind helping.
Ben massaged the back of his neck. The other cousins had jobs and farms and lives of their own. Ben didn’t have anything. He’d been gone for months, unable to help his grandparents from so far away. He should at least do his duty to his family while he still could. Besides, a few more weeks in Bonduel would mean a few more weeks of watching out for Emma, even if she despised him, and making sure she didn’t do any permanent damage to herself or anybody else. Summer was always the worst time of year for accidents.
Of course, no matter how much she needed him, he couldn’t be here forever. Why prolong the inevitable? Why not let other boys, like Adam, step up and learn to care for her?
Because they couldn’t. Not yet anyway. Ben would stay a little longer. What could it hurt besides his fragile heart? And in his short time here, he might be able to do a lot of good for Emma. If he prevented even one accident, the time would be well spent.
“I will stay as long as you need me,” Ben finally said.
Dawdi groaned and shook his finger at his wife. “Annie, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I’d have put my foot down sixty years ago.”
Mammi laid a kiss on Dawdi’s cheek. “Stuff and nonsense. You put your foot down plenty.”
Dawdi chuckled. “And I usually step in a pile of horse pucky.”
Mammi snapped a pod off one of the pea plants. “Ben, I see you’ve already picked the peas. I’ll shell them right now, and we can have pea and pumpkin potpies for dinner. I’ve been working on a new recipe.”
Ben picked up the full bucket and followed Mammi and Dawdi into the house.
If he went back to Florida, he’d never get to taste exotic foods like pea and pumpkin potpie. He’d better stay a while.
Chapter 10
The fire crackled to life as Adam set a match to the kindling at the bottom of the pile of wood. It was a beautiful night for a bonfire at the lake. What a thoughtful young man Adam was.
There were a dozen or so of
die youngie
who had come to the lake after the benefit supper. The haystack supper had been a huge success. Over a hundred people attended, and they’d raised some $2,000. Not enough to pay all the hospital bills, but enough to put a dent in them.
Emma had helped on the food line, as far away from Ben as possible. She already saw him three days a week on Huckleberry Hill. She didn’t need any more time with Ben Helmuth.
Why had he come? There was plenty of help with tables and other heavy stuff, and he certainly didn’t act as if he wanted to be there. She couldn’t figure him out, and she wearied of trying to guess what he was thinking. He already owned the throbbing ache in her heart. She refused to give him any more of herself than she had.
Adam fed more wood to the flames as Emma stared into the fire in the gathering darkness. Ben sat next to John Shirk and Eli Lambright with a bucket and without a date. It didn’t surprise her. Ever since his return, Ben had kept himself isolated on Huckleberry Hill. Did he ever feel lonely?
Mahlon and Lizzie relaxed in the sand whispering to each other. Probably discussing possible accidents they could get Emma to fall for. She had no illusions that they had abandoned their plan to get her and Ben back together. Emma only hoped they wouldn’t kill her with their good intentions. She kept a wary eye on both of them in case they decided to throw her into the lake.
Dinah Hoover came close and gave Emma a hug. “My mamm says thanks for the soup. She’s feeling much better today.”
“I burned it on the bottom a little. I hope it tasted okay.”
“Jah. The burning gave it a smoky flavor. Like you’d added bacon or something. It was kind of you to think of us.”
“I’m sorry your mamm’s been sick.”
“How are your pumpkins coming?” Dinah said.
“Wonderful gute. I planted three acres. I’ll have lots to sell come September.”
“I hear you are growing a giant pumpkin for Anna Helmuth.”
“I went yesterday. The pumpkin is the size of a baseball. Lord willing, by the end of the summer it will be over five hundred pounds. Anna will be so happy.”
Since the day they pollinated pumpkins, Emma’s time on Huckleberry Hill had been bearable. She steered clear of Ben, and he had made no attempt to converse with her. Once the pumpkin grew big enough, Emma would never need to set foot on Huckleberry Hill again. She was counting the days, or rather, measuring the pumpkin until she could be done. The sooner she put Ben Helmuth out of her life, the better.
She sighed. What could possibly be better about having Ben Helmuth out of her life?
The fire soon engulfed Adam’s pile of wood. They sang songs while waiting for it to cool to a useful pile of coals. Emma sang loudly so that she wouldn’t be able to hear Ben. Even over the roar of the fire, his voice caressed her with too many memories, and she willed herself to keep her composure in his presence. She was on a date with Adam Wengerd, for crying out loud. She should be giving him her full attention. Ben’s beautiful singing voice should have been the furthest thing from her mind.
She turned her attention to Adam. He smiled at her while trying to keep up with the singing. His voice didn’t sound all that bad, and he mostly didn’t go flat, but she didn’t expect him to be as good a singer as Ben. Everybody had their own talents. Singing was only one talent and not even the most important one to possess.
Adam leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Why don’t you take your shoes off?”
Emma looked around. Almost everybody had their shoes off except for her. “Should I?”
“The sand is nice and warm.”
She almost always wore her shoes outdoors. While others seemed to be able to take off their shoes without consequence, she would inevitably be the one to step on a rusty nail or stub her toe on the porch step. She glanced at Ben. His shoes were still on. He had told her once that he always wanted to be ready to run to her aid, and a dead run proved easier with shoes.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go put them by your cooler.”
Sensing Ben’s gaze on her, she walked away from the fire and up an incline to the place where most of the shoes rested in a pile. She sat in the sand, unlaced her shoes, and pulled off her stockings. After stuffing her stockings into her shoes, she stacked them on the pile and sifted her toes through the rough sand. It felt good to be so reckless.
Plunging her feet into the sand, she shuffled back to the fire as if she were ice-skating. She lifted her gaze to see if Adam saw her enjoying the sand. Dividing her attention turned out to be a bad idea. By now, she should have known how dangerous it was to take her eyes off the path directly ahead.
Her toe caught on a jagged rock buried beneath the sand, and she lost her always-precarious balance. The ground rushed to meet her. Before she made contact with a nasty piece of driftwood, a pair of strong arms caught her from behind and set her back on her feet.
How had he made it from the fire so fast? Probably because he was wearing his shoes.
She gasped. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Sorry for what? Making a fool of herself? She glanced in Lizzie’s direction, half suspecting her of planting that rock right where Emma would find it. Lizzie and Mahlon innocently sat in the sand chattering as if they didn’t even know Emma had come to the bonfire party.
Ben still had his arms securely around her, which was good because her knees had turned to jelly. “You okay?”
Unsure of what she would see, she didn’t dare look into his face. She’d received enough pity to last a lifetime. “Jah, denki. I can’t believe I fell.” That wasn’t precisely true. Of course she could believe she had fallen. It was what she did best.
“Did you hurt your foot?”
Leaning on his arm, she lifted her foot out of the sand. Even in the dim light, she could see the shiny, dark blood dripping from her big toe.
Ouch.
She’d hurt it worse than she thought.
“I’ve got a first aid kit in my buggy,” Ben said.
“Nae, don’t go to the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Emma pulled away from him and hopped back up the incline. “I’ll put my shoes and stockings back on and tend to it when I get home. I don’t want your first aid kit to get sandy.” She sat down, brushed the grit off her feet as best she could, and started to pull her stockings on.
“Are you sure?” Ben said.
She braved a look at him. It surprised her not to see pity on his face.
She shoved her shoes onto her feet and stood up, hiding a wince as she put her weight on her throbbing toe. She refused to burden Ben by being needy. “Denki for your help,” she said, leaving him behind as she tromped back to the fire, keeping her gaze squarely on her path. The embarrassment would be unbearable if she tripped twice.
As quickly as she could, she returned to Adam’s side and joined him in singing. Her toe felt as if it were the size of a golf ball, and she could sense a miniature heartbeat inside her shoe, not to mention the sticky blood that made her foot feel squishy. It was going to be a long night.
Adam looked down at her feet. “You decided not to take off your shoes.”
“It’s better this way,” she said.
Once the fire had cooled, Adam pulled a bag of marshmallows from his cooler. “Who wants s’mores?”
He passed out marshmallow roasting sticks from a long cloth bag. “These are dangerous. Do not point them at people’s eyes. Especially you, Emma.” Some of his friends chuckled. Emma felt the heat travel up her neck, but she didn’t take offense. Adam knew enough to be cautious.
Emma passed out marshmallows and didn’t even think of bawling when she gave one to Ben. He told her “denki” and met her gaze, as if he didn’t injure her with his very presence. As if those icy green eyes didn’t send her reeling every time she looked into them. As if he hadn’t just saved her from falling on her face and ending up with sand between her teeth.
She looked away as soon as she could pull her wits about her. Her friends shouldn’t go without marshmallows simply because Ben’s eyes made her incapable of rational thought.
Turning her back, she skewered her marshmallow even as she felt his gaze bore into the back of her head. She would ignore him completely. After all, that was what he wanted. He’d have liked nothing better than to be rid of her. Ben found her annoying, and he saw her as an object of pity and disgust, nothing more.
She knelt next to the fire to get close to the glowing orange coals at the base of the flames. Even if it killed her, her marshmallow would be golden brown and perfectly roasted this time. She usually didn’t have gute fortune roasting marshmallows. Last summer, Ben had ended up roasting them for her. Tonight, she had found the perfect spot near the coals, and her marshmallow would turn out just the way she liked it.
She heard a hiss right before her marshmallow started smoking. Before she could pull it away from the heat, it burst into flames.
Ach!
The last time she had tried to blow out a flaming marshmallow, the ash had splatted onto her face and burned her lips. This time she waved her roasting stick over her head like a flag, hoping to put out the fire with the rush of air.
She must have whipped it around too forcefully. Her blazing marshmallow flew off her stick and sailed into some dry grass near the shore. “Oh!” she cried as a tuft of grass in the marshmallow’s path caught fire. Out of nowhere Ben ran to the tiny blaze and dumped a bucketful of sand on it, effectively extinguishing it before it could spread up the hill. Where had he found a bucket of sand so quickly?
He glanced at her, and a frown tugged at his lips. Her throat dried up like a piece of chalk. Ben must have been overjoyed that he wasn’t engaged to this walking accident anymore. It didn’t matter how hard she concentrated, she would never be graceful enough to make Ben love her.
Adam stepped around the fire. “Are you okay?”
“What?”
“I heard you shout.”
He hadn’t seen the flying marshmallow of destruction. “Jah, I am fine. Something startled me, that’s all.”
He looked at her stick. “Do you want a marshmallow?”
“Um, jah. I would like a marshmallow.”
“I’ll get you one.”
Adam jogged to his cooler and retrieved a marshmallow for Emma. She should have brought her own bag. She had a feeling she’d need several test marshmallows before she managed to achieve golden-brown perfection.
What did it matter? A perfect marshmallow wouldn’t bring anybody any happiness. Not tonight.
When Adam handed her another marshmallow, she stuck it right into the flames and let it catch on fire. Then she pulled her stick from the fire and made no attempt to extinguish the marshmallow. She held it away from any flammable objects like her dress or Dinah’s hair and let it burn to a black stump at the end of her stick. Then, after being careful to let it cool a sufficient amount of time, she closed her lips around her mouthful of ash and pretended to enjoy it. Ben wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her struggle with marshmallow after marshmallow, giving him one more reason to be glad he’d broken off the engagement.
“Do you like them burned like that?” Adam asked.
She hadn’t realized he’d been watching. She
must
quit fixating on Ben. “Delicious” was all she said.
“I like mine toasty warm and gooey,” Adam said. “They taste better in a s’more that way.”
Emma could only nod. Melted chocolate and a golden-brown marshmallow between two graham crackers sounded like about the most wonderful thing in the world. Her mouth tasted like she’d stuck her tongue in the ash can.
Ben, without his bucket, nudged her with his elbow. Her heart carried on like a bass drum tumbling down the stairs. She hadn’t seen him coming. “I like roasting them but I don’t like eating them,” he said as he slipped a s’more into her hand.
The marshmallow inside was golden brown and melty, and the soft, warm chocolate puddled between the two crackers. Nothing ever looked so good. She studied him in surprise.
Why would he even . . . ?
Before she could thank him, he practically sprinted to the other side of the fire and started a very important-looking conversation with Eli.
Why did he pull something like that when she was trying so hard to steel herself against him?
Emma choked back the tears, found a spot to sit, and ate every bite of that perfect s’more. Adam roasted two marshmallows and made a double-decker s’more. After stuffing his roasting stick into the bag, he trudged across the sand to sit by her. “Did you get a s’more?” he asked, holding his out so she could see it.
“Jah, I did,” she said, wishing Ben hadn’t made one for her. She’d never be able to eat a marshmallow again without thinking of him.
“The haystack supper went good. My mamm said it’s one of the best we’ve ever had. There are lots of people at the lake this time of year. We got about fifty tourists.”
“The tourists love to see the Amish.”
Adam scooted closer. “Denki for coming with me tonight,” he said, taking a big bite. “I think I’ve wanted to date you ever since I was in the second grade.”
“You used to throw snowballs at me.”
“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”
“Oh, I don’t know. By saying hi or carrying my lunch cooler home from school.”
“I’m glad Ben suggested I ask you out. At first I didn’t believe him when he said you were over him. I mean, it’s obvious to everyone that he’s moved on, but I wasn’t so sure about you.”
Emma felt like a cold, empty house. Adam should just stop talking.
“But he urged me to ask you out, as if it meant a lot to him. I guess he thinks it’s his fault that no one dares to date you.”
BOOK: Huckleberry Spring
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