Living in Harmony (35 page)

“I'll give it some thought. But in our case, we don't need to rush into anything.” Amy folded her hands and leaned back in her chair.

She didn't look at her fiancé, because she truly didn't wish to see his expression.

“It's pitch-dark already,” murmured Amy, stating the obvious.

John hitched his horse to the buggy as a sharp wind blew through his thin coat. It was time to start wearing his heaviest wool. “I imagine it's about half past six.” He kept his tone as pleasant as possible.

“It sure makes a difference when we take the clocks off of daylight savings time.” She settled herself on the seat and wrapped the blanket around her legs.

“Some districts don't change to fast time, but Harmony isn't one of them.”

“I would like daylight savings time all year round.”

John had no comment to this, so he merely grunted. With a cluck of his tongue, the buggy began to roll down the driveway toward home. Trained Amish horses could find their way back on the darkest nights, even if the driver fell sound asleep.

After a minute Amy turned to face him. “You're awfully quiet, John. Is something bothering you? Why not just come out and speak your mind.”

He inhaled a deep breath and released it. “Okay, then, I'll do that. If you disagree with me, I wish you would wait until we're alone to voice your opinion instead of doing so in front of our friends and certainly not in front of the bishop. He might not choose to marry a couple who quarrels over minor details.”

Amy wrinkled her nose. “I see your point to a certain extent. But if I let the matter go, it would be like lying because I haven't made up my mind about paying the full amount in cash. And I would hardly describe my inheritance—my entire life savings—as a
minor
detail.”

John considered the “what's yours is mine” aspect of most marriages but decided to hold his tongue. Maybe he would feel differently if he had inherited more than a hundred thousand dollars. So he selected a benign response. “All right, but when you come to a decision could you let me know?” He tugged some of the lap robe over his legs.

“You shall be the first I tell.” She angled a wry grin. “I wish I'd eaten more cookies with my cup of hot chocolate. I am starving.”

“Me too. I wonder what Sally and Nora fixed for supper. I sure hope they saved us some.” He let the horse pick up speed on the straightaway.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Sally's away today helping a sick district member. She'll be gone until late. Supper was left up to Nora and me, but then we were called to the couples meeting.” She gripped the edge of the seat for support. “I didn't tell Nora what to do.”

John patted her arm. “Relax. Nora is twenty years old, not nine. I'm sure she saw us leave and figured out that making dinner was her job. Goodness, Amy. Sometimes you treat her like an English houseguest, not a grown Amish woman.”

She smiled weakly. “You're absolutely right. We'll eat whatever she's made even if it's soup and day-old bread.”

“I'm so hungry I'll probably fight you for the last stale crust, but all will be well.”

But all was not well. When John drove the buggy inside the Detweiler barn, he found his brother tending livestock by lantern light. “Good evening,” he greeted and unharnessed the horse as quickly as he could. “I hope you saved us something to eat. We only got a few women-type cookies with cherries stuck in the center. That stanchion of hay is starting to look good.”

Thomas fixed him with his blue-eyed stare. “You'll find cold cuts and cheese in the refrigerator in their usual location.”

John led the Morgan to his stall and began brushing with serious intent. “What do you mean by sandwich fixings? Is that what you ate?” He spoke over the stall wall.

“It was.” Thomas strolled to where John worked. “A sandwich and a cup of reheated coffee. A pie had been cut into slivers, but I left my share for someone else. It didn't seem enough to dirty a plate.”

John's empty gut rumbled. “I know Sally has been away, but wasn't Nora home all day?”

“She was, but she got caught up in fall cleaning and forgot to make supper.” Thomas held his brother's gaze for a moment before returning to his own chores.

John carefully drew the brush through the mane and tried to tamp down his anger. He didn't succeed. When he finished the rubdown and fed and watered his horse, he headed to the house as though on a mission. The kitchen was empty, but he heard water running in the bathroom. “Amy?” he called at the door.

“I'm frozen solid, John,” she called back. “I'm drawing a tub. Give me a little time and I'll reheat something from dinner.”

John marched into the living room. He knew dinner had not been prepared and put away. He found Nora by the woodstove
reading a library book with her feet on a stool. A crocheted shawl was draped around her shoulders.

“Is it too much for you to take up the slack when Sally and Amy are both gone?”

Nora blinked her catlike eyes. “I did. I scrubbed the house all day until maybe an hour ago. My hands are red and cracked from the cleaning solution.” She set her book on the floor to give him full attention.

“That's all well and good, but you need to assume responsibilities when they are left in your hands. Have you never heard of multitasking? As fond of
Englischers
as you are, surely you've heard of the concept. While cleaning, you could have stewed some beef or baked a chicken.”

Nora narrowed her focus into a glare. “Amy left without saying a word. I thought she planned to return in time for supper. I would have been happy to take care of it if she'd mentioned—”

“You shouldn't need to be told or left a reminder on a Post-it,” interrupted John. “You are an adult, Nora. If you wish to be pampered like a child, then I suggest you move back to
grossmammi
's. Which is exactly where I will send you if you don't straighten out!”

Her mouth fell open with shock and humiliation. Nora King was utterly speechless for the first time in her life.

John clamped down on his molars, shocked by his vehemence. The stress of the counseling session and near starvation had taken their toll.

“That is not your decision to make, John Detweiler.” Amy stepped from the doorway into the room. “Nora is
my
younger sister, so she is my responsibility, not yours.” There was no mistaking the strength of her conviction. “We are not man and wife yet… and at this rate, maybe we never will be.” Her voice trembled with exasperation. Stress and fatigue had taken its toll on her too.

He spoke without thinking. “You sound just like her, Amy, which makes you far too willful to be my wife.”

John strode quickly from his brother's house and ran down the lane toward the road. He kept walking until his rage dwindled to impotent frustration. When he turned toward home, shame, fear, and regret filled his heart. As he sat down to eat bologna-and-cheese in a dark, cold kitchen, he found that his sandwich offered little sustenance.

It stuck in his craw alongside his mean-spirited words.

A
wave of relief like a summer shower washed over Thomas as Sally's buggy pulled up the driveway. Although he hadn't expected her home much before then, he worried whenever she was on the road after dark. And tonight both of his sons had been with her. “Whoa,” he said to the horse, catching the bridle on his second attempt.

“He's eager to get to his oats in the barn.” Sally pulled on the reins. “But not quite as eager as I am to relax with a cup of tea.” She handed down a drowsy Aden.

“How did it go at the Millers?” Thomas held on to the horse with one hand while he clutched his son to his chest with the other.

“
Gut
. Better than I hoped in my fondest dreams.” Despite her fatigue, Sally's face glowed with the joy of accomplishment. “At first Agnes didn't want me to see how….
verhuddelt
things had become around the house.”

“Mixed-up, you say?” he asked. “That's hard to imagine, but
maybe that's why she had to swallow her pride. She's used to keeping a tidy home.”

“Her gout is bad, Thomas, and her husband is too frail to help much. The district should hold a work frolic there before winter comes. The Millers need their home made handicapped accessible, including moving the washing machine from the basement to the ground floor.” She climbed down, carrying Jeremiah asleep in the crook of her elbow.

“It will be done as soon as possible.” Thomas set Aden on his feet because the boy awoke without the lulling movement of the buggy.

Sally stepped closer to him instead of toward the house. “Oh, Thomas, Agnes made me feel so welcome and appreciated. She praised my cooking as though I'm one of those famous Boston chefs. And she thanked me several times for cleaning and doing her laundry. I have made a true friend in the district.” Her eyes sparkled with delight.

“If you have won the heart of Agnes Miller, everyone else will be easy as pie.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Shall I help you put the boys to bed?”

“
Nein
, I can manage while you tend the horse. The sooner you put him away the sooner we can get to bed. I'll brew us cups of chamomile tea to help us sleep.” She started up the path and then stopped. “How was supper? Was my
cuisine
put to shame by my Pennsylvania gourmet sisters?” She winked with amusement.

Thomas removed the bit from the horse's mouth. “Let's just say I'm not going to bed hungry, but we won't bring up the subject of tonight's dinner in the foreseeable future.”

She shifted the
boppli
to her other arm. “Oh, dear, what happened? You must tell me.”

“Nothing to worry about. I'll tell you once we're warm under the quilt. Go inside before you get chilled. I'll join you soon.” Thomas watched as Sally lifted Aden to her hip, despite her weariness and
his rapidly increasing weight. A wave of emotion seized his heart and lodged in his throat. Danki,
Lord, for bringing Sally into my life and for bringing my family safely home.

But Thomas found more than a cup of tea waiting in the kitchen once he finished his chores. John sat staring at the wall with a half-eaten sandwich and a cold cup of coffee.

“Aren't you worried about that stuff keeping you awake?” Thomas shrugged off his coat and hat.

“No. If I can't sleep tonight it'll have nothing to do with caffeine.” He took another gulp and grimaced.

“Did you have words with Elam?”

John shook his head.

“With Sally?”

His brother's head snapped up. “Of course not. Sally made tea and took hers upstairs to drink while she readied the
kinner
for bed.” He pointed toward the stove, where another mug steeped. “She said you shouldn't tarry.”

Thomas carried his tea to the table, relaxing his tight shoulders. “Tell me what's wrong if this can't wait until morning.”

John glanced up with the eyes of a cornered animal. “When I returned from the counseling session, I lost my temper with Nora for not cooking. I told her when the other women are away, she must stand in their place.” He rattled off his two sentences as though the words tasted bitter from the second chewing.

Thomas reflected before speaking. “If you had simply asked for more assistance without allowing your temper to enter the discussion, it would have been a reasonable request.” He sipped his cooling tea.

John downed the contents of his mug with another frown. “
Jah
, I came to that conclusion while eating this dry bologna-and-cheese.”

“Would you like some mustard or mayonnaise?” Thomas consulted his pocket watch, ready to put the interminable day behind him.

“Nothing will help my parched mouth.” John pushed away his plate. “I lost my patience with her.”

“That much I gathered.”

“She is so dreamy and unfocused, content to stroll through life as though it were a summer garden.” He gritted out the words through clenched teeth.