Mount Hope Page 5

  “Oh, nee! Not me,” she said quickly.

  Addie laughed. “I’m just teasing you, Fanny. You take things too seriously.” Peering into the box, Addie nodded her head approvingly. “Girl! This is right gut. Just before the weekend!” She looked up at Fanny. “Why, no sooner do I stock my shelves than your goods just disappear.”

  Fanny lowered her eyes.

  “So modest!” Addie clucked her tongue and set the box on the counter. “And we all know that the nice even weave of these baskets comes from your hand. I’ve been around long enough! I can certainly spot the difference between your baskets and the other Bontragers!”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Fanny retorted, trying to deflect Addie’s compliments. Baskets were baskets, but it was true that Fanny took special care when making them and, on occasion, remade the ones that Miriam threw together without any regard for quality. Still, Fanny didn’t want Addie to think she was proud. “Mine are no better than anyone else’s, I’m sure.”

  But the older woman seemed intent on praising her. With a nudge at Fanny’s arm, Addie gave a long, slow wink as she said, “I’m almost seventy years old, Fanny. I know a superior weave when I see one, even if I need my glasses to double check!”

  The back door opened and Addie’s grandson, Benjamin, walked in, his black pants covered with a fine dust, most likely from stocking the back shelves. Like everyone else in Mount Hope, Benjamin was related to most of the other Amish families, and the bishop was his uncle on his father’s side. Yet with his straight blond hair cut haphazardly over his ears, he looked like a younger version of his maternal grandmother.

  “Is that Fanny?” He grinned when he saw her and set down a book that he had been carrying before he walked across the room to greet her.

  Through his friendship with Elijah, Benjamin had always been kind to Fanny, almost like another big brother. Lately, however, when he stopped by the Bontragers’ farm, he lingered in the kitchen visiting with the women, and Fanny suspected that he had eyes for Julia.

  “What brings you over this way, Fanny Price?” Benjamin asked.

  She gestured toward the box filled with basket, but Addie answered for her. “Benji! As if you need to ask! You know Fanny brings us baskets each week!”

  Benjamin peeked into the box. “Oh, gut. I needed to restock those. The tourists buy them right away, you know!”

  Fanny couldn’t hide her embarrassed smile as Addie turned and give her an I-told-you-so look.

  The large wall clock chimed and Fanny glanced up at it. “Oh, help! I best get going. Need to stop at the food store on my way back.”

  “Ach, that reminds me!” Addie turned to Benjamin. “Go fetch me some of that applesauce we canned weekend last, Benji! Send some home with Fanny.”

  Fanny raised her hand, politely holding it up as if to stop Addie from saying anything else. Her generosity was notorious in the church district, but Fanny didn’t want to trouble the kind-hearted woman. “Nee, Addie, but danke. I only have the bicycle with the small basket.”

  But Addie would not hear of an objection. “Nonsense!” In a flash, she hurried around Benjamin, not waiting for him to fetch the applesauce.

  Alone with Fanny, Benjamin scratched at the bridge of his nose and shrugged his shoulder. “She’s a piece of work, ain’t so?”

  “For sure and certain,” Fanny replied.

  Benjamin leaned against the counter and hooked his thumbs under his suspender straps. “Heard that Timothy went to Pinecraft. Thomas go with him?”

  Fanny nodded her head. “Ja, he did. Elijah’s in charge of the farming now.”

  Benjamin pressed his lips together. “That’s a lot. You let him know I could help in the early mornings. Not much to do here at the store before eight o’clock.”

  She promised that she would. She suspected his offer had just as much to do with being a good neighbor as it was to share a cup of coffee in the morning so that he could spend more time in Julia’s presence. Fanny wondered if Julia knew about his interest in her. If she did, she made no indication. Unlike Miriam, who liked to flaunt her suitors, Julia took a subtler approach to courting, one that left Fanny guessing.

  As Addie returned, her arms laden with a tall, rectangular box, Benjamin hurried over to help her. From the jiggling noise of glass that came from within the box, it was clearly filled with jars of applesauce.

  “Oh, Addie!” Fanny knew that she couldn’t accept such generosity. Clearly Addie had put a lot of work into making the applesauce and not compensating her for her efforts wasn’t fair. “That’s too much!”

  But Addie insisted.

  “I won’t take so much for my work then,” Fanny finally said as she took the box from Addie. “That’s only fair.”

  Addie squinted one eye and looked at Fanny. “As I said already, nonsense. What on earth would I do with all that applesauce?”

  Peeking into the box, Fanny quickly calculated that it contained at least six jars. “You could sell them, for starters.”

  At this comment, both Addie and Benjamin laughed. Their store shelves were already lined with so many canned goods that one box of applesauce would not make a difference.

  “Now, off with you, girl. Your aendi will be wondering ’bout you if you linger much longer,” Addie said, guiding Fanny to the door so that she could open it for her. “And I put some new linen at the bottom of the box . . . need my supply replenished as soon as you get ’round to it.”

  Benjamin walked outside with her. He helped her by holding the bicycle steady while she placed the box into the basket. “You heard about the Yoders then?”

  Ah, Fanny thought. That explains his help. She shook her head, knowing full well that whatever came next from Benjamin’s mouth certainly had to do with someone’s health or gossip.

  The box secured in the basket, Fanny took ahold of the handlebars while Benjamin shared his news. “Seems like my uncle has some visitors for a while.”

  “Oh, ja?”

  He nodded his head. “His wife’s younger sister and brother, Henry and Mary Coblentz. Visiting from Lancaster.”

  With the sun suddenly brightening, Fanny squinted as she looked at Benjamin. She wasn’t certain why he was sharing this new with her. “That’s gut” was all she managed to say.

  “Heard tell that they might be moving out here,” he continued. “Mayhaps looking for someone to court.” He gave her a look that she couldn’t interpret as he said, “You be sure to let Elijah know.”

  Startled, Fanny stared at him, her mouth agape. “Now why would I do that, Ben?” She had never been prone to gossip, and while she would not necessarily classify this news as earth-shattering or even sinful, the fact that family was visiting Bishop Yoder was of no particular significance, at least as far as Fanny could tell. As far as Benjamin’s comment that the two visitors might be looking for spouses—well, that was none of her business, that was for sure and certain.

  With a sheepish smile, Benjamin shrugged his shoulders as he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his black pants. “Ja, vell, they’ll be at the Sunday service anyway. Reckon he’ll find out then.” He paused. “Would be right gut to invite them to the singing, don’t you think?”

  “I imagine they’ll go, whether or not Elijah or you invite them,” Fanny replied, still wondering what she was missing in this unusual conversation. Besides, she didn’t usually attend the singings so she wasn’t concerned with who attended or not. “But I’ll be sure to pass along the message that visitors are coming.”

  Benjamin gave her a quick grin and stepped back from the bicycle. She tried not to frown at his strange behavior as she rode out of the small parking lot. Since long before she arrived, Benjamin had been a good friend to Elijah and Thomas. His father and Timothy were distant cousins, as were most people in that area of Holmes County—or so it seemed.

  During her first years at the Bontragers, there had been more than one afternoon when the three young men were caught racing their horse and buggies down
the long dirt road behind the farm. Timothy scowled and struggled to hold his tongue. They were, after all, on rumschpringe. But after the third time he caught them, Naomi reported it to her husband, who preached about the matter at the next Sunday service. The buggy races miraculously stopped on that dirt road, although Fanny later learned that they had simply relocated them to another, more remote, location.

  Through the Amish grapevine everyone knew, somehow, that these races were still going on and probably would never stop. After all, rumschpringe or not, the races were a young man’s favorite way of expressing his independence and his ability to excel amongst his peers. It was not even who would win the race. Pride over winning would be construed as a violation of the Ordnung, the unwritten code of behavior that every church member was bound to obey.

  No, it was definitely something else. Perhaps the races were a rite of passage—a way to prove one had reached manhood and was now able to make his own decisions.

  Besides, what could be more exhilarating than the swooshing of the wind on the driver’s face, the intense rattling of the buggy’s wheels over the hard ground, the obedient and submissive eagerness of an animal that was more than happy to show his master how well it could perform under his prompting! Very few young men in the community were immune to the appeal. The question was not who would partake in the races but when. If the races were kept a secret, they had become a very conspicuous one.

  In the past year, however, the only time Fanny saw Benjamin was at the worship service or at the store. She didn’t think that Elijah spent much time with him at all. Of course, Fanny knew little of what young men did to socialize. Miriam and Julia were often busy with their friends at quilting parties or canning bees. Sometimes they even had cookie frolics to attend, baking and donating hundreds of cookies to charities. That too had become something of an opportunity for the women to express themselves: their own version of the buggy race. Who would bake the most? Which cookies were more visually appealing or sweeter to the tongue? Which batch would come out as the most fragrant and delectable? The result was a mountain of sugar drop cookies, thimble cookies, molasses nut cookies, ginger cookies, and chocolate chip cookies—all testimonials to the skills and proficiency of their makers. But before adding cookies to the pile, it was common practice for each woman to display her own creations just in front of her at the kitchen table for everyone to catch sight of.

  Recently Fanny was invited more and more to these events, but she always declined. She felt uncomfortable around the young women who talked with such ease to each other. It was easier for Fanny to avoid the gatherings, using the excuse that Martha needed her at home.

  Thankfully neither Miriam nor Julia ever pressed her to attend.

  She was still bicycling toward the farm, so engulfed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the sound of an approaching horse and buggy until it was pulling past her.

  “Want a ride?”

  Fanny almost swerved off the road and into the ditch as her cousin overtook her.

  “Elijah!” She pressed her hand to her chest and tried to slow down her breath. “You keep scaring me!” she said, shaking her head at him. “I should be used to it, I reckon, after all of these years!”

  He laughed as he brought the horse to a standstill and waited for her to move the bicycle closer to the carriage.

  “Where you coming from, Fanny?”

  Fanny glanced over her shoulder, even though the Yoders’ store was down the road and around the bend. “On my way to Hostetler’s store for some sugar and such. I promised Naomi I’d go there after I dropped some baskets off at Addie’s store.”

  “Oh, ja?”

  She nodded. “I ran into Benjamin at the store.”

  Elijah smiled to himself. “He was working there, was he? Haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he up to? Did he say?”

  “Just helping his grossmammi, from the looks of it.” She paused, shifting her weight on her feet as she balanced the bicycle beneath her. “Gave me a message for you. Says you should know that the Yoders have visitors. Bishop Yoder,” she clarified. “His wife’s family. Her schwester and bruder from Pennsylvania.”

  But there was a change in Elijah’s eyes; a glazed-over look appeared. “The Coblentzes, eh?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before he nodded his head.

  “They should be going to the singing after church service.” There, she thought. I did as Benjamin requested. “You know them then?”

  He nodded. “Met them a long time ago, before you came here. When the bishop got married again, I think.” He paused before adding, “He wasn’t the bishop then.”

  “I didn’t know she had younger siblings.” Of course, she was much younger than the bishop, his first wife having passed away from cancer. Like most widowers with children, he remarried within a few months. After all, children needed to have a mother and a man needed to have a wife. And when they had married, he hadn’t been the bishop, just a preacher. It was only after Naomi’s husband died that a new bishop had been selected. As luck had it—or misfortune, as some thought—the lot fell to Bishop Yoder when he selected the Ausbund with the little white piece of paper in it.

  Being selected as the new bishop for his g’may was not a small affair. The candidates for bishop were nominated by the people, but the ultimate selection was of God’s choosing. Whoever selected the marked hymnal would have to put aside the greater part of his obligations to his own family and replace these with the even higher calling of the obligations to his g’may. He would have to provide comfort, spiritual counsel, and practical guidance to the members of his church district. He would have to make decisions that would impact people’s lives. Some popular ones and some, less popular. He would have to prove worthy of the responsibilities bestowed unto him by the Creator Himself. This was a lifetime commitment that could not be broken. It was no small matter to have been chosen. Some feared it secretly. Others more openly. All were humbled by it. At least on the day that they discovered that slip of paper between the pages of the book.

  “It’ll be nice to meet new people,” Fanny said, although she wasn’t certain she meant it. She always shied away from strangers, especially the Englischers that came to their farm to look at the handmade baskets.

  But Elijah wasn’t paying attention. He seemed to have wandered away mentally, his mind now elsewhere. And there was a look in his eyes that bothered Fanny.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  He blinked and shook the daydream from his mind. “Oh, ja, for sure. Just thinking, that’s all.” He noticed the large box in her bicycle’s basket. “Let me take that for you, Fanny.” In one swift motion, he reached down to grab the top of the box, lifting it as if it weighed nothing. “Applesauce, eh? That Addie! She’s something else.” Settling the box onto the floor of the carriage, he made certain it wouldn’t jiggle too much by wrapping the edge of a dirty blanket around it. “Early for making applesauce, ja? Well, Maem will be pleased anyway.”

  Fanny nodded. They usually waited until autumn to make applesauce, but with the extra early spring and unusually fine summer, many of the apple orchards had produced an early crop. With Martha feeling so tired and weak, her cough often keeping her awake well into the night, she didn’t seem motivated to do much of anything anymore. It made Fanny wonder if they would make any applesauce this autumn.

  Elijah held up the leather reins and motioned toward the road. “Alright then, Fanny. See you at home.” He released the foot brake and, with a quick clicking of his tongue, slapped the reins onto the horse’s back. The open buggy lurched forward, the wheels grinding and the horse’s hooves beating against the macadam. He lifted his hand over his head, not looking back as he drove the horse down the road and toward the family farm.

  For a long moment Fanny stared after him until the buggy disappeared around the bend. Behind her, she heard an approaching car and waited until it passed her. Then, balancing herself on the bicycle, she began to pedal. When she turned onto the road
that led to the health food store, she was still wondering about Elijah’s reaction to the news about the upcoming visit by the Coblentz siblings.

  Despite her curiosity, she knew time would eventually reveal the answer. With Sunday just a few days away, she wouldn’t have long to wait to meet the newcomers and, hopefully, find out what appeared to be so distracting to Elijah.

  Chapter 3

  OH, HELP!” MIRIAM whispered far too loudly as she reached out to touch Julia’s arm. Fanny couldn’t help but look up and see Miriam stare at the back door of the house where the members of the g’may gathered for worship. The older women, all dressed in black dresses, stood nearby, softly talking before the church leaders and men entered the room, the signal that worship was about to start.

  Most families arrived early for the service, using that time to catch up on the latest news or, in the case of the young women, gossip. While Fanny wasn’t certain, she suspected that outside in the barn the young men were engaged in the same. After all, it was one of the few times that the church district gathered together, presenting the perfect opportunity for socializing before the three-hour-long service began.

  Fanny stood just beyond her two cousins and their friends, not quite a part of their inner circle, but not entirely removed from it either. She was, after all, a baptized member of their Amish church and as such she was part of the church district, even though her family remained in Colorado. However, Fanny much preferred to stay on the periphery, not wanting to get wrapped up in the drama that sometimes accompanied the female clique that Miriam seemed to lead.

  “What’s wrong, Miriam?” one of the young women asked.