The Harvest of Grace Read online

  Beckie dusted her gloved hands over the woodbin. “These temps wouldn’t be so bad if someone in this room”—Beckie stared at Sylvia, amusement dancing in her eyes—“wouldn’t abandon her side of our bed to tend to cows. I woke up lonely and with my toes freezing.”

  “You could’ve bedded down beside Ginger. Then you wouldn’t have been lonesome or cold.”

  Beckie peeled out of her gloves. “Ew, gross. I will never be that frosty or alone, thank you very much. It’s unfair that we ended the day just right, and the next thing I know, I’m in a cold bed all by myself.”

  Sylvia couldn’t help but smile. Beckie and she had slept in the same bed since Beckie was old enough to leave her crib. And as far back as Sylvia could remember, they’d ended most days in the same way, sharing things only sisters did and then whispering, “Im Gott sei Lieb”—in God’s love—over each other, putting their joys and sorrows in His hands before they fell asleep.

  The kitten mewed, and Mamm stopped pouring coffee into a mug. Beckie gazed into Sylvia’s eyes, doing her best to suppress a laugh. Lizzie glanced her way and seemed to purposefully drop a plate onto the countertop in an effort to distract their mother. Thankfully it wasn’t breakable.

  “Meow.” Beckie mimicked the kitten and did a good job of it. “Meow.”

  Mamm sighed. “Beckie, stop that. I thought I heard a real cat.”

  “Me too.” Lizzie mocked scolding Beckie as she picked up the plate.

  Mamm didn’t like or trust cats. Rational or not, she worried that they’d scratch one of her daughters’ faces and leave scars.

  “I can’t find my homework.” Ruth’s whiny voice was a clear indication of how poorly she’d slept last night.

  “Coming.” Mamm wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “She’s so miserable this morning that I don’t know if she can go to school.”

  “I’ll see to her.” Sylvia hurried toward the doorway of the kitchen. “And she’ll be in the mood to go within the hour. I’m sure of it.”

  “I hope so,” Mamm said. “She loves school like you love farming.”

  “Ah, but she’ll grow out of liking school,” Sylvia teased before getting to the steps.

  “Wait,” Mamm said.

  Sylvia stopped and turned.

  Mamm propped her hands on her small hips. “You need to eat.”

  “Oh, she’s fine,” Beckie said. “I’ll fix her some coffee and take it to her.”

  “You girls.” Mamm sighed. “Something’s going on. I know that much.”

  “We’re just pitching in to help each other like you taught us,” Lizzie said.

  “Ya, uh-huh.” Mamm slung the dishcloth onto her shoulder, a move she repeated dozens of times every day. “You all stick together like peanut butter and jam.” She motioned for Sylvia to go. “Well, do whatever you’re going to do. But I want food in you within the hour. You were out most of the night, and you also need to get some sleep.”

  Mamm’s correcting tone grated on Sylvia a bit. It never seemed to dawn on her Mamm that by Sylvia’s age, she was married and had been running her own home for more than four years. She had one child and another on the way by twenty-two. But as long as Sylvia was unmarried, it seemed she’d be treated like a child.

  When Sylvia stepped into Ruthie’s bedroom, her little sister was sitting on her bed, crying. The sight of it tugged on Sylvia’s heart. She covered her lips with her index finger and closed the bedroom door. “Shh. Don’t squeal. But look what I have for you.” Sylvia eased the kitten from her pocket.

  Ruthie’s eyes lit up, in much the same way Sylvia imagined her own did whenever Elam came to the house. “Whiskers.” Ruth held out her hands. “She is alive.”

  “I told you it was just a bad dream.” Sylvia placed her hand on Ruth’s forehead, checking for a fever. She didn’t seem to be coming down with a bug.

  “How’d you get Whiskers past Mamm?”

  “The little fur ball likes to snuggle in warm places.”

  Sylvia laid Whiskers in Ruth’s lap. She’d no more than gotten Ruth and Whiskers settled and content when Martha started crying, demanding someone get her out of her crib, which woke Salome and Barbie Ann.

  The day became a blur of tending to little ones, doing laundry, preparing meals, taking the school-age children to school and picking them up, and helping Beckie make herself another new dress. Sylvia didn’t know why Beckie felt she needed one by that evening when she wasn’t going anywhere, but they got it done before supper. Sylvia also managed to squeeze in a nap before returning to the barn for the second milking.

  The good part was that the busyness made the day hurry by. Sylvia looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. Elam should be here any minute.

  Daed had gone to the bank a few hours ago, and he had instructed Lizzie and Lilly to help with the evening milking. When her sisters filled in for Daed, the process always took longer. Darkness fell long before they left the barn for the night, and the stars twinkled brightly.

  As they crossed from the barn to her home, she spotted Elam’s rig in the carriage house. Her heart went wild. Why hadn’t he stepped into the barn to say hello?

  She and her sisters went inside the house and peeled out of their coats, scarves, and boots. Kerosene lamps were lit throughout, giving off a warm glow.

  Elam’s voice filled her soul as it softly rumbled through the house. She followed the sound of it until she found him with her Daed, sitting in the office, looking over papers. With his head bent over a calendar, she was able to study his handsome features unobserved.

  Have they been talking business? To her knowledge they’d never done so before. She knew about milking cows and breeding and delivering calves, but she understood almost nothing about the other parts of farming—the finances, the land, growing crops, and what it took to keep the silos filled.

  Elam jotted something down. “I think if the weather cooperates and we plant the alfalfa earlier this spring than you have in past years, we could rotate the crop and gain sufficient growing time to have enough silage to increase the herd numbers.”

  We? Something about his use of the word bothered her. But she knew better than to speak up. If her Daed wanted her input, he would have asked her to join the meeting. Still, it seemed they at least could have invited her to listen to the conversation.

  Elam set his notes aside and lifted a stack of papers. “I think this’ll work. It might take a few—” He spotted Sylvia standing in the doorway.

  Daed glanced up and then returned to studying the documents in front of him. “You were saying?”

  Elam rose to his feet. “I have no idea.” He closed the gap between them, and a desire to be his thudded inside her chest. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” She longed to kiss him. It’d been so long since their first kiss. She’d never forget it and that quiet evening as the horse and carriage ambled along under the harvest moon. “What are you two up to?”

  “Nothing much.” His eyes bore into hers with such intensity it was all she could do not to blush. She felt beautiful—wanted—and not at all like an odd duck.

  “Elam,” Beckie called. “Kumm. Surely it’s time you returned to our game.”

  Elam’s smile warmed Sylvia’s insides as he winked before peering around her. “Later, pipsqueak.”

  “You’d better watch out calling her that,” Sylvia whispered before Beckie came into the room. At eighteen, Beckie did not like being treated the same as the rest of the brood.

  Elam held his hand a few feet off the floor. “It’s not my fault she’s about this big.” He glanced at Beckie while smiling at Sylvia.

  Beckie’s cheeks flushed pink, and Sylvia wished he wouldn’t pick on her. She tended to be dramatic about her petite size and anything else she was teased about.

  Elam enfolded Sylvia’s hand in his, and her knees felt weak.

  Daed moved around them. “Kumm, Beckie. It’s their time to be alone.”

  He pulled the door closed, which was against the house ru
les he’d made. When a beau visited, he had to earn the right to see his intended in a room by themselves, but even then the door was to remain ajar.

  “Alone at last.” Elam peered down at her before kissing her forehead.

  Oh, how she longed to tilt back her head and let him kiss her lips. The desire overwhelmed her, and she felt like a fallen autumn leaf caught in a windstorm. Her Mamm said that there was nothing wrong with feeling so attracted to Elam, that it was as natural as getting hungry and needing sleep—as long as her feelings didn’t turn to actions. But Sylvia wished it’d ease up so she could think with a clear head.

  Elam slid his arms around her. “Your Daed has hopes for us, and we’ve agreed to start working the fields together this spring. But my dreams have nothing to do with farm work. They’re haunted by a certain raven-haired beauty.” He lowered his lips until they brushed her ear. “I love you. Marry me, Sylvia.”

  His whisper and his words drew her, but they also jarred her like rock shattering against pavement. Part of her had hoped for this moment since he’d stolen that first kiss last fall. That part nudged her to embrace him and say yes. But she remained still, knowing her whole heart wasn’t committed.

  She wondered where she fit inside his and her Daed’s plans.

  She had reservations when it came to the traditional idea of marriage, and she’d told Elam so. An Amish man’s life barely changed when he married. His wife looked after him as his mother had—making clothes, cooking three times a day, and doing laundry. He kept doing the same job he always had, whatever it was. But a woman had to be ready to take on the responsibility of running a home and giving birth to baby after baby, sometimes into her forties, as her mother had.

  As much as she thrilled at being with Elam, Sylvia wasn’t sure she was ready to begin that journey. Something else nagged at her too, and she wished she knew what.

  Easing away from him, she tried to gather her thoughts. The papers on the table sat in the light of the kerosene lantern on Daed’s desk. She flipped through them, realizing the two of them were revamping the day-to-day running of the farm. “I didn’t know you were this interested in our farm.”

  “I am now. My Daed would have to make room for another son to join him in his timber framing business. But your Daed really needs me.”

  The farm needed manpower, and Elam had plenty of it. That didn’t bother her at all. What bothered her was her ignorance concerning his plans. He hadn’t even thought to discuss them with her.

  “It seems like you’d talk to me about all this before talking to Daed.”

  “I speak to him about business matters and to you of marriage. Would you prefer I turn the two around?” He chuckled at his joke.

  Sylvia joined his laughter. “Definitely not, and I’m sure Daed appreciates that.”

  “Ya, me too.”

  She lifted an official-looking paper that had both men’s signatures on it.

  “Hey.” Elam spoke softly while cupping his hand under her chin. “I just proposed. You did hear me, right?”

  She placed her hand over the center of her chest. “I carry you in my heart, Elam, and in my head … all the time. You know that. But at the risk of angering you, I have to ask again. Doesn’t it seem out of place that you’re making plans for the future, our future, without even talking to me?”

  “I was aiming to surprise you, which you don’t seem to appreciate. Your grandfather left you his house, and it makes sense for us to live and work here. Doesn’t it?”

  “Ya. Sure it does.”

  “Look, Sylvia, I know you have funny ideas about how things should be sometimes. And you have some wild thoughts about what a marriage needs to look like. But I didn’t expect this response—or, rather, lack thereof—and I can tell you I’m not thrilled about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” She set the paper on the table and eased her hand into his, once again pulled in by his mysterious allure. “I … I was just caught off guard. I’m too surprised to have an answer right away.”

  “What’s there to think about? You want to be with me. I know you do.”

  “Nothing, really, and I do want to be with you. But I can’t say yes this moment. I need a little time to absorb it all.”

  He stood there, so tall and unbelievably handsome, and she should be melting in his arms. She wanted that, so what was wrong with her?

  “You said it yourself, Elam. I’m weird sometimes. The fact is, I don’t react to much of anything the way most people do. There’s no reasoning it out. Just give me a couple of weeks. I’ll be able to explain what’s going on inside me then, okay?”

  “Ya, okay. There’s time, since we don’t need to make any plans until spring. But I want to get married this fall, Sylvia.”

  “This fall?”

  He pulled away from her, his features growing hard. “You don’t have to say it like it’s a disgusting idea.”

  Sylvia was surprised by his sudden irritation. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry it sounded so rude.”

  “I’m going now. But you should sort through whatever’s holding you back—and as soon as possible.”

  Her heart fell as he walked out, heading straight for the back door. Despite her conflicting feelings, she hadn’t wanted him to leave, especially not while he was upset with her.

  “Elam?” Daed rose from his spot across from Beckie, upsetting the checkerboard as he did. “Leaving so soon?” He glanced at Sylvia, silently asking her half a dozen questions.

  “I need to go. We’ll talk later.” Elam paused at the hatrack and grabbed his coat.

  Beckie went to him. “But we haven’t had supper yet or played a game.”

  “Another time, Beckie.” He put on his black felt hat while his eyes stayed glued to Sylvia. “We’ll talk again when I’m not so angry.”

  Sylvia nodded, wishing he hadn’t announced to her whole family that she’d upset him.

  Beckie moved to her side. “What’s going on?”

  Sylvia didn’t answer. Some things were too private to share, even with Beckie. But no matter how much Sylvia wanted to keep her silence about this, she doubted she could. She never had been much for keeping truths to herself.

  Without another glance her way, Elam walked out the door. Surely after he cooled off a bit, he’d see that her request was reasonable. A little time to think, and she’d be ready to give him the answer he wanted.

  The two horses struggled to pull the loaded wagon. Sylvia slapped the reins against the team’s back, urging them out of the feed store parking lot and onto the main road. Heavy gray clouds hung low, and a cold wind from the west had begun to blow.

  She’d taken her homemade yogurts by Eash’s Market, bought groceries, and picked up what seemed sufficient cow feed to get them through the rest of this unusually long winter. That was everything. she hoped.

  Sylvia tapped the reins again, urging the horses to hurry. Her thoughts remained on Elam. It’d been three weeks since he’d come to the house. How much longer would he wait before talking to her?

  When she’d seen him at the church meeting, he’d seemed unable to take his eyes off her. That had to be a good sign.

  She loved him. That she knew for sure. But were they ready to marry? And how could he make plans with her Daed to change the operations of the farm and never once consider asking her opinion?

  She didn’t expect her Daed to understand her. He lived in a man’s world and made do with daughters to help him. But Elam was supposed to know and love the real her, oddities and all.

  Now that she understood what had bothered her so much, she was ready to talk to him about it. If he could see her side of it, and if she could see his side, they could work this out.

  The house came into sight, and a bitter wind chilled her as she pulled into the driveway.

  Elam. Her heart raced as if it’d been tapped by the reins. He and her father were hurrying into the barn. Surely this meant Elam was over being angry at her. It could mean that he’d decided to start workin
g with her Daed in spite of her, but why would he wait until a Friday night?

  Gusts of wind nipped her face as she brought the rig to a stop near the back door. She hopped down and ran two bags of groceries inside. “Hello?”

  Her Mamm hurried toward her.

  “Elam’s here,” Sylvia said. “Will you get the others to finish unloading the wagon?” She spun on her heels, ready to shout Elam’s name and run for the barn the moment she was outside, but her Mamm caught her arm.

  “Beckie wants to see you.”

  “Can’t she wait?”

  “No. It’s best if you go on and talk to your sister. She’s in the wash house.”

  Sylvia stared at her mother, waiting for an explanation, but Mamm simply nodded toward the washroom. Sylvia unbuttoned her coat and went through the narrow hallway that connected the wash house to the main house. Maybe now she’d find out what her sister and their parents had been whispering about for more than a week. Other than a few hints of being excited about something, Beckie had been unreadable, which had never happened before. Her sister had remained silent whenever Sylvia had asked her about it. Whatever it was, her Mamm seemed quite displeased.

  “Beckie?”

  The moment Sylvia saw her sister, she noticed several things. She wasn’t happy, she didn’t have on her prayer Kapp, and she wasn’t making eye contact. Beckie stoked the fire in the small potbelly stove, closed the door to the stove, and set the face of a pressing iron on it.

  Since learning what Sylvia had told Elam the night he left, Beckie had been distant and quiet, not offering any words of comfort. And she’d been going out every evening.

  Sylvia pulled off her gloves. “You’re ironing on a Friday afternoon? What’d you do wrong while I was out?”

  Beckie turned to her. “Nothing. I washed my prayer Kapp, and I want it to look just right for tonight.”

  “Ah, you must be going out again.”