Love's Abundant Harvest (2 page)

The three-page letter was written in fine penmanship. Abner talked about the weather
as if she wasn't preoccupied, but she couldn't pull away. The more she read, the
faster her heart beat and her breathing sped up. By the end of the last sentence
she felt her face flush with anxiety.

“Abner.” Sam glanced at him, but his eyes stopped on Lucy. “What's wrong with you?”
He grabbed the letter and glanced at it just long enough to understand.

Abner looked at one and then the other, thoroughly confused. “Did someone die?”

Lucy's shoulders slumped, and she closed her green eyes. “
Nee
,
Mamm
is coming home.
My sister Hanna had her baby not long ago, so she must be ready to send our
mamm
on up here.”

Lucy had hoped she wouldn't be with her
mamm
alone, without her sisters by her side.

The one time Sam had met Lucy's family, he'd said he'd never forget it. They were
independent women, and so many. And then there was
Mamm
, a beautiful woman with sharp
eyes and sleek build who ran her house like a business more than a place to call
home.

Abner studied her as he set his cup on the table. “Who's her
mamm
?”

“My
mamm
. . . ” A sigh lifted from her chest as she said the word. In view of Verna's
strict parenting, the title
Mamm
never quite fit in Lucy's mind. The name
Verna
automatically
came in her thoughts when she considered her mother, but she was respectful enough
to refer to her as her
mamm
out loud.

“Maybe she doesn't need to come just yet,” Abner counseled.

“
Nee
, it'll be fine.” Lucy looked at Sam.

“
Jah
, sure”

Nee
, it wouldn't. But Lucy knew he wouldn't tell her that with company in the room,
and there wasn't any way to tell her
mamm
no. Lucy was nearing her third trimester,
which was probably the reason for her visit.

“How many of them?” Sam sat and waited for Lucy to bring his coffee.

“Just
Mamm
, as far as I know.” That kicked the wheels
turning. If she could get Fannie
to come stay for a while, it might be manageable. The second youngest, with some
fire in her, was just what Lucy would need to get through the visit. Sam was not
a hospitable man; he barely spent time with his own family, let alone hers.

“Though maybe a sister or two, as well.” Saying two were coming might make him agree
to just one. Guilt sank through her chest. She disliked manipulating Sam, but she'd
learned it was a matter of survival living with him. She was sure if she didn't find
a reprieve in some small way, she would lose her mind. Her loveless marriage and
difficulty conceiving, along with a miscarriage, had given her little hope she could
please her husband.

The thought made her stop and pray for her unborn child's strength and growth.

Sam's lips turned white as he pressed them together. “Your
mamm
might want some time
alone with you.”

When his nose lifted after taking a sip of his coffee, she quickly handed him some
milk, but bumped the table and spilled the contents of the pitcher. A trail of the
cream crawled off the table onto Sam's lap. He slapped the wooden table and stood,
wiping his pants with a cloth napkin.

Lucy couldn't get there fast enough. She stopped the trail of milk and righted the
creamer cup, avoiding his eyes. “I'm sorry.” She took the napkin to the sink, listening
to his work boots hitting the wood floor as he left the room.

Awkward silence radiated in the room in which Lucy was never comfortable and couldn't
do anything right—not even make a cup of coffee or clean up a simple mess without
making it worse.

“I'm sorry, Abner.” Not wanting to face him, she continued squeezing the napkin,
watching the white turn clear. She could hear his lopsided gait as he walked closer
to her.

“A
mamm
-to-be shouldn't be so upset about such things.” Abner tapped Lucy's arm.
“Whether you're with child or not, for that matter.”

All she could do was nod, unable to turn and look at him with the tears threatening
to spring.

“Maybe I should go. You let me know if you need me, ya hear?” He slipped out the
door and was gone, leaving her alone to receive her husband's wrath.

M
anny Keim clucked to his bay mare, Sweet Pea, in the pasture beyond the fence.
She was stubborn and old, but she still reminded him if he hadn't taken her out
for a while.

The stud hitched to the wagon held his head high as his dark mane bounced against
his neck. Puffs of air floated from his nostrils into the humid air. Summer couldn't
come soon enough for him, but fortunately it was right around the corner.

Manny ran his fingers through his hair and put his felt hat back on. He needed a
trim. Minister Eben wouldn't appreciate his blond hair hanging down past his collar,
but he hadn't had the time to cut it, nor did his cousin, Emma, who was more like
a sister to him. Since his wife, Glenda, had died, Emma had shown more care for him
than any of his other relatives had. He thought she had a special place in her heart
for Glenda and missed her now that she was gone, almost as much as he did.

A piercing whistle pulled him away from the memories as his eyes focused down the
dirt road to Caleb Lapp. The two men couldn't look any different, especially with
Manny's eyes being two different colors. He was used to the stares and double takes
from the
Englischers
in town. Their eyes would dart back and forth as if not believing
what they were seeing. Glenda had told him he was unique. There was no mistaking
that he was, she'd say.

Caleb set his rifle in the wagon bed. Then he pulled himself up and into Manny's
wagon, giving him a stare. “You deaf today? I had to whistle twice to get your attention.”
He brushed away the curls from his eyes as he waited for a response.

“Just thinking.” Manny knew how much his mind had wandered toward his deceased wife
over the last year. He wondered what a normal time of mourning was and whether her
fair face and bright blue eyes would ever fade from his mind. He was grateful not
to have woken in the night expecting to see her there for some time, but now that
he'd had the thought, she would most likely appear next to him in a dream.

This time, Caleb's yodeling stopped his thoughts. It was something he'd started doing
since he came back from the city with Emma just two years ago. He looked over at
him with pinched brows and tight jaw. “Can you warn me when you're gonna do that?”

“You just wish you could do it as well as I can.” Caleb nodded for emphasis and started
in again, louder.

Manny tapped the horse with the reins. He obliged with a quicker step that jolted
Caleb back into his seat. “He must smell summer in the air.”

“Long before we did, I'm sure.” Manny smiled as he thought of Sweet Pea and Glenda
being the same age; Sweet Pea should be put to pasture, but Manny needed her company
now more than ever. Just a year older, at the ripe old age of thirty-one, he felt
robbed of the best years he and Glenda could have had together.

“Look over there!” Caleb pointed out to the north pasture.

Manny slowed the horse to a walk and studied the dry grasses and brown dirt covering
nearly fifty acres.

“Well, I'll be darned. We found him already.” A stray coyote had been picking off
farm animals at both of their places. Manny wasn't a big hunter as some of the Amish
men were, but in cases like this, he knew they had to defend their livelihood.

“He's heading back toward your place.”

“I suppose I should turn around before he gets any closer to the chicken coop; that's
the first thing he goes for.”

Caleb leaned with the wagon as Manny turned around. “Him being alone makes ya wonder
if there's something wrong with him. Maybe hurt or too young and inexperienced to
bring down bigger prey.”

“He left the pack for some good reason or they got rid of him. Might be sick.”

Manny had lost the resilience for death and wondered whether he would be able to
pull the trigger. He'd done it whenever it was necessary before, but not since Glenda's
death. He sighed. Even dealing with a coyote involved her. There was a time he would
have taken care of this coyote without another thought, but this time he knew better
than to even try.

“You all right?” Caleb stared at him more than at the coyote. Knowing he'd never
get away with a lie, Manny just didn't answer.

Caleb jumped out of the barely moving wagon, and Manny hopped down onto the moist
dirt road after him. A drizzle of icy rain had covered the land overnight, but the
morning sun was melting it away.

“I'm right behind ya, Caleb.” As soon as he had his rifle
in his hand, he heard a
gunshot and jolted back as the sound traveled down the field, followed by a scream.

“Caleb!” Manny ran to the edge of the road where Caleb stood with rifle in hand,
his eyes staring farther down the road. Manny followed his gaze to an Amish woman,
but he couldn't make out her face. She held on tightly to a rope with a horse by
her side—his horse, Sweet Pea.

Manny took off running and didn't stop until he got to her. He slid on the gravel
road, coming to a stop, and instinctually reached for the woman's hand. “Are you
all right?”

She flinched and pulled away, but then nodded quickly and brought her hand up over
her cheek. “The shot, it surprised me.”

“I'm sorry, we didn't see you there.” Manny had met the woman before, but he didn't
see her around much. Their community was large enough that a number of different
groups met for church, so he thought he should introduce himself. “I'm Manny Keim.”

“I know who you are.” Her eyes lifted, but she kept her head down. Dark strands of
hair whipped around her thin neck, and her soiled black dress was wrinkled, probably
testimony to a busy day working on the farm.

He took the lead rope from her and rubbed Sweet Pea's side to calm her down. “How
did you end up with my horse?”

“Found her running wild around our place.” She almost smiled when she glanced at
Sweet Pea. The horse seemed to have that effect on people.

“We've lost some livestock due to that coyote.” Manny looked away and to the field
where Caleb was walking.
“Have you had any trouble with the coyotes around your place?
Sam's farm, right?”

“
Nee
, maybe you should make stronger coverage for the animal enclosures.” She glanced
over toward Manny, revealing her left-side cheekbone and skinny frame—too skinny
for his liking. He wondered whether she'd been ill. It couldn't be that they didn't
have enough food on the table; Sam's place was always thriving. Then he thought back
to what she'd said and chuckled.

“I happen to have solid coops for the chickens and adequate fence lines for the
larger stock . . . ” He held a grin as he explained, but she stepped back and slowly
shook her head. His voice tapered off and drizzled away like the water on the frosty
ground when the sun beat down on it.

She turned to her right side and then looked down at her worn boots. “I'm sorry.
I didn't mean anything by it. I just hate to see anything get hurt.”

He turned back to see that she had looked at Caleb and then turned away. “
Jah
, me
too.” An awkward moment passed, and he was pleased to think of something to say.
“Do you need a ride?” The more he looked at her, the longer she stared at the ground.
“It's no bother.”

She glanced over just long enough to see him walking back to the wagon. “
Danke
, but
nee
.”

“
Hallo
there, Lucy. Haven't seen you for some time. How's Sam?” Caleb rested his
hand on his hip, huffing out small breaths.

Manny felt bad for not helping him, but not only did he not want to have anything
to do with what just happened, he had also become intrigued with this woman standing
in front of him practically swallowed whole by the big dress she was wearing. She
seemed timid, but firm
in what she thought. He suspected she just didn't express
it often, which was why it captured his attention that she'd spoken out to him concerning
his animal enclosures and the coyote.

“Fine,
danke
for asking, Caleb.” When she glanced up at Caleb, Manny saw the darkness
in her eyes—something darker than the deep brown of her pupils.

When she noticed him staring at her, she shifted her weight, keeping her hand on
her cheek.

“How are ya feeling?” Caleb's brows lifted.