Living in Harmony (9 page)

“And what if someone sees you doing woman's work?” she asked, not taking her focus off the plants.

“You let me worry about my reputation. My lesson on the parable of the lost sheep from Luke fifteen will give our church
members so much to think about that they won't have time to ponder what constitutes men's work.” He picked up an empty bushel basket and began picking two rows over. “What are your plans with these? They'll need to be processed as soon as possible.” Juice and seeds ran down his wrists from split skins on several tomatoes.

“Tomorrow I'll wash, blanch, and cut them up. Then I'll start canning chopped tomatoes to use in chili, sloppy joes, and stew. I'll also cook the mushy ones down to make spaghetti sauce and tomato soup. I might also give homemade V8 juice a try. I have carrots, celery, parsley, chives, green onions, and Swiss chard to add to my pot of tomatoes.” Sally swatted away a deerfly without breaking stride in her plucking movements.

Thomas extended his fingers one at a time as he counted silently. “That's only seven vegetables.”

“Seven veggies will be enough to simmer and strain into juice. I don't want folks at the Campbell Soup Company getting nervous about the competition.”

Thomas laughed easily despite his misgivings. He knew that if Sally took on too much, she would fail at all tasks. “I hope Nora and Amy will put off sewing for another day and help you tomorrow. This many tomatoes will require more than one pair of hands.”

“
Ach
, if Nora has something suitable to wear on Sunday, then I'll suggest it. Otherwise, she must sew at least one dress and bonnet by then. We can't have the preacher's future kin wearing spring green, can we?”

He didn't know the light, soft shade of green even had a name. “
Jah
, true.” He tossed a few rotted tomatoes close to the gate to add to the compost pile later. “Have you planned lunch for the district after Sunday school? Folks will need something to eat before our hymn service. We can't have growling bellies drowning out voices lifted in praise.”

Sally's head bobbed up from behind a huge plant. She'd dropped to her knees to reach low-hanging fruits. “I haven't given
it a thought! With this garden demanding so much attention I forgot about Sunday's lunch. I never asked anyone what they could bring.” Her sweet face filled with alarm.

The meal occurred on a weekly basis, which should make it difficult to forget. Nevertheless, Thomas smiled with the patience of Job. “Just keep it simple,
liewi
. Folks don't need a banquet. That only encourages gluttony. How about bread, spreadable cheese, lunch meat, and some chips? Then the only thing you need to prepare ahead is dessert—nothing fancy, though. This isn't the time to try out new pie recipes. Maybe just a simple cobbler with some of our peaches.”

Sally perched a red-hued fist on her hip. “What's that you say? I had my heart set on Baked Alaska.”

“I don't even know what that is,
fraa
.”

“It's like a giant hot apple dumpling with vanilla ice cream hidden inside.” She moved her hand over her belly in a circular pattern. “Sounds delicious, no? I read about it in a magazine at the doctor's office.”

“How do you bake a dumpling without the ice cream melting and draining out?”

“I don't know. The nurse called me in for my exam.” She reached for another empty basket behind her.

“Forget about Alaska. If you keep lunch simple, you'll be able to relax during my fascinating lesson. And you won't have to run around like a rooster without its head afterward.”

Sally stopped picking and jumped to her feet. “Is that how I appear to you, Thomas? Like a headless chicken?” Her flushed cheeks matched the tomatoes.

Thomas bit his tongue with the thoughtless remark. “I misspoke. Forgive me.” He stepped between plants to reach her row. “I meant you wouldn't be so rushed if the meal were simpler.”

Her pink cheeks lost none of their heightened color. “Maybe you picked the wrong woman to turn into a preacher's wife.” Her
posture slumped. “I'm supposed to lead the other women into service, but I'm usually late and dashing in at the last minute. Either Aden falls into a mud puddle or Jeremiah spits up down my back before we leave for church. Do you remember your first day here as minister? I wore black running shoes instead of high-buttoned leather oxfords like a proper preacher's wife. I thought the older women would have a heart attack, while the younger ones looked downright fearful for my sake.”

Thomas reached out to touch her face. “Yet everyone survived the day, to the best of my recollection. God brought
you
to be my beloved
fraa
and then delivered us here.” He waved his hand at their garden, the hayfield where just-cut hay lay drying under warm sunshine, and the low Dixmont hills on the horizon. “And our family will bloom where we've been planted.”

A smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “I suppose I shouldn't question His judgment.”

He laughed wryly. “He makes no mistakes, Sally. Trust in Him and in yourself, and you will grow into your role.”

“We'd better take these to the house and get out of the sun.” She hefted one basket to her hip. “You're starting to talk in garden analogies. Besides, I need to cook something for supper.”

He grinned with affection. “You go inside. I'll finish picking the rest before they rot. There are not too many rows left. Then you and the King sisters can start canning.”

She started to protest until Jeremiah released a loud wail, indicating he was either hungry or wet or both. “
Danki
, Thomas. I'd better see to that
boppli
before he wakes the neighborhood.” She giggled at her favorite joke, set down the basket, and headed toward the playpen.

No one was sleeping at this hour.

And no one lived close enough to hear a baby cry anyway.

Sally lifted Jeremiah into her arms and planted a string of kisses across his forehead, quieting him instantly. Aden raised his arms
above his head to indicate he too wished to be carried. Sally complied, settling one son on each hip.

As Thomas watched, his breath caught in his throat, while his heart swelled with emotion. “Don't forget to ask the girls to help when they get home,” he hollered.

She nodded her head to indicate she'd heard as she struggled up the porch steps.

While Thomas picked more tomatoes than any human needed, he brooded on the new potential threat. Sally had gained little approval among the older matrons. She certainly didn't need Amy's and Nora's liberal ways to reflect on her. Especially Nora. Thomas doubted that the girl would remain in Harmony. A small community offered little compared to Lancaster County. But Harmony was exactly what his family needed—a place for Sally to forget about her willful past and walk the straighter, narrower path. Nora wouldn't be good for Sally, nor Sally for her. He hoped both would come to this knowledge before any real damage was done.

Amy stopped the buggy midway between the house and the barn, and stared at the ten bushels of tomatoes across the porch. “Goodness, Thomas,” she called as he set another in the long line. “Did you pick all those today?”

“Along with Sally I did.” He brushed off his palms as he approached. “Are your errands done?” he asked, peering up from beneath his hat brim.

“
Jah
. We found everything we needed to make Nora three dresses—one for Sundays and two for weekdays. There's a nice shop next to the co-op market. Inside it—”

“
Gut
,
gut
, but my wife can use your help with dinner. Tales from your travels can wait until later.”

Tales from my travels?
Amy blinked as Nora jumped down from the buggy. “Of course,” she said. “Let me take the horse to the barn and we'll be happy to—”

“I'll take the horse.” He interrupted her again. “John can rub him down while I wash up.”

“
Danki
for the use of your buggy.” Amy handed him the reins as she stepped past him.

“Amy?” he called.

She halted on the stone walkway and turned around.

“Could you hold off with the sewing for another day? Sally needs help with these vegetables and might be too shy to ask.”

“Of course. I assumed as much when I saw the bounty. The Lord has been generous with the harvest, no?”

“That He has.” Thomas perused Nora with a silent head-to-toe assessment before leading the horse away.

But once Amy and Nora opened the kitchen door, they had little time to puzzle over Thomas. The room was in complete disarray, yet Sally greeted them cheerfully. “Back so soon?” she asked. She tucked a lock of hair beneath her
kapp
. “Where did you eat lunch?”

Amy hung her purse on a hook and slipped a clean apron over her head. “At the deli by the railroad tracks. We split a chicken salad sandwich.”

“I always wanted to try that place. Maybe someday I will.” Sally dropped a raw piece of fish into a bowl of flour.

“I see you've been busy with the garden. What can I help you with?” Amy walked to the sink to wash her hands, trying not to stare at the variety of vegetable trimmings littering the floor around the trash can. Sally's aim was terrible.

“I'll put these bags in the front room and come right back,” Nora whispered in Amy's ear.

“I'm breading some haddock I found in the back of the freezer. Once a month a seafood vendor comes to market day and sells his
fresh catch. Thomas loves fried fish.” Sally dipped a floured piece into an egg mixture and then dropped it in a bowl of breadcrumbs.

A wisp of smoke rose from the frying pan as Amy smelled oil beginning to scorch. With a pot holder she moved the pan off the burner before the grease burst into flames. “Why don't I fry the fish while you make the rest of supper?” she asked, discreetly lowering the heat. With the crisis averted, Amy walked to where Sally was coating fillets with flour, egg, and breadcrumbs.

“Good idea. We'll have yellow beans with boiled new potatoes. I just dug up these spuds. Because they are small they won't need much slicing.”

Amy grinned into the bowl of plum-sized potatoes. “They are adorable. A perfect size.”

When Nora returned, she set to work cleaning the kitchen. Within an hour the extended family sat down to a delicious meal in a tidy room. Sally had fed both
kinner
ahead of time, allowing her a chance to enjoy an adult supper.

John, who had been quiet since chores, finally spoke after sampling the fried haddock. “I thought you would return for lunch.” He pulled a small bone from between his teeth.

Amy smiled across the table. “We would have practically had to turn around the moment we arrived. And you know how women love to browse in stores.”

“Our co-op is a gem, no?” Sally popped a bean into her mouth. “It has a good selection of bulk foods, both grown locally and trucked in from out-of-state.”

“It has everything a person needs,” agreed Amy. “And I loved the quilt-and-fabric shop next door. I imagine it's crowded with tourists on Fridays and Saturdays.”

Sally laughed uproariously. “You're not in Pennsylvania anymore, Amy. Tourists don't come to Harmony.”

“None at all?” asked Nora. She took a second fillet from the platter. Fish hadn't been commonplace back home.

“Let's see.” Sally tapped her jaw with one finger. “There were those elderly ladies looking for a giant flea market. They were definitely lost. I hope they found their way home safely.”

“As far as I'm concerned, no tourists means no traffic.” John scraped two more pieces of fish onto his plate.

“Some would be nice,” said Thomas. “The Amish in our community make woodcrafts and furniture to sell over the winter that we must ship elsewhere right now.”

“
Elsewhere
will probably bring you better profits anyway.” John sounded like an English businessman instead of a farmer waiting to buy his own land.

Amy sipped her iced tea. She'd taught Sally how to make sun tea with cool well water, a few tea bags, and a sunny window. “Nora and I found something interesting in the quilt shop next to the market.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, waiting for everyone's attention.