Patchwork Dreams Page 2

  “So, Jacob. You have arrived. You had a gut trip, jah?”

  “Jah.” Jacob’s jaw lifted, his gaze still holding Becky’s. Then, he glanced away. She looked at the open oven door and silently slid the tray of cookies inside the oven. She knew Daed had seen the whole exchange. And she knew what he thought.

  She didn’t turn to check. After all, he’d be wrong. No man would want her. Not when he learned the truth.

  Chapter 2

  Cousin Daniel pulled off his leather work gloves, laying them on a counter. He washed his hands, then sat down at the table. Instantly, a young teenage girl put a slice of buttered bread in front of him. “Cookies are in the oven, Daed.”

  Jacob took advantage of his distant cousin’s preoccupation to glance toward the woman busy at the stove. Becky seemed the exact opposite of his sweet Susie in every way. Pale blue eyes instead of dancing brown. Light blonde hair instead of strawberry blonde. Quiet instead of talkative—although that might be a good thing. And apparently unhappy rather than cheerful.

  It seemed odd that she didn’t act happier about his arrival. After all, Jacob’s backbreaking labor would be helping them out. Or maybe his arrival put her beau out of work.

  Didn’t matter much, though. He was here, and here he’d stay—for a while. He straightened his spine. He would be home in time for wedding season in November, if he had anything to do with it.

  And in the meantime, he’d work on seeing a real smile on Becky’s face. She’d be pretty if she smiled. Well, prettier. She had a delicate beauty that appealed to him. He squared his shoulders. He liked a challenge, and he sensed that erasing that gray cloud of doom that hovered over Becky would take a significant amount of effort.

  Her daed, his cousin Daniel, reached for another slice of buttered bread, drawing Jacob’s attention. He was sure that each person had been introduced by name, but he couldn’t remember any of them. For some reason, the only name that stuck was Becky’s.

  One of the girls, she looked to be about seven years of age, placed a cup of coffee in front of Jacob, along with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes. He dropped two cubes into his mug and was starting to pour the cream when the older man cleared his throat“So, Jacob. You are looking forward to settling in this area, jah?”

  Jacob’s hand wobbled. A drop of cream landed on the table. He set the pitcher down with a thud. “Excuse me?”

  “No special woman back home, is there? Is that why you agreed to kum out here to marry?”

  “Marry?” Jacob was certain his eyes were wider than a newborn calf’s. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I’m here to help you out with the farm work.” He reared back in the chair, his jaw tightening. “At least, that’s what Daed told me.”

  Daniel frowned and glanced away, and then his gaze returned to Jacob. “So, you have someone at home, jah?”

  “Jah. Plan to marry during wedding season.”

  “You are here to help out.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed.

  “Jah.” Something wasn’t right. Jacob’s stomach cramped.

  Daniel leaned forward. “Our bishop put out a request for young men to be sent to our area to marry and settle down. Your name is on that list. Your daed told us that you were coming out early to get a start looking for property. To get first pick of the women.”

  That made Jacob sound selfish. Prideful. Both sins.

  Jacob’s stomach churned. He wanted to rake his hand through his hair or, even better, get up and expel his anger through some sort of physical labor. But sensing that all the eyes in the room centered on him, and not knowing where or how to escape, he bowed his head to hide his emotions. Daed had sent him down here to marry him off? And he’d lied about it? What else had he lied about?

  Jacob rubbed his sweaty hands across the rough material of his pant legs.

  Would Daed be telling lies to Susie, too?

  ***

  All the color had faded from Jacob’s face. Becky’s hands tightened around a potholder. She’d never figured that this distant cousin would pick her to be his bride, although she had harbored some faint hopes of being chosen by one of the incoming men. Whisper-thin hopes. Mostly, she’d decided she’d keep her distance from him. From all of them. After all, the local men didn’t want her for a frau. Why should she expect anyone else to?

  She shouldn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  Wouldn’t.

  Still, she certainly hadn’t expected Jacob to be taken already.

  And she hadn’t expected that his daed would lie to Jacob about why he was being sent here. What was so wrong with the woman he planned to marry that his family would go to such lengths to separate them? Could it be that she wasn’t Amish? Was a family feud to blame?

  The silence stretched awkwardly as Jacob stared down at his hands, a muscle working in his jaw. And Daed, after sending Becky a confused glance, gazed into his cup of coffee, as if expecting answers to this dilemma to float to the surface.

  She was fairly positive they wouldn’t.

  How many full cups of coffee had he studied when she’d entered her rumschpringe? Hundreds, for sure.

  Daed’s hand landed on the table with a loud slap, and Becky jumped. Jacob glanced up, but the muscle still worked in his jaw.

  “Well then, Jacob. We’ll make the best of this situation. You are here. You will help me. And if you happen to have your eye caught by one of our local girls, you’ll stay. But if not, then I’ll make sure you catch a bus back to Pennsylvania whenever you want to go.”

  “Danki, sir. Appreciate that.” Jacob poured some cream into his coffee. His gaze locked on Becky. “The cookies smell gut.”

  Becky blinked. The cookies! She spun around and opened the oven. Heat billowed out of the open door. She gripped the pan with the potholder and lifted it out before sliding the next pan in. Thankfully, the chocolate-chocolate-chip cookies weren’t burned.

  “As soon as you finish that coffee, Jacob, I’ll take you on a tour of the farm and show you where you’ll be sleeping,” Daed said. “You want a cookie first, though, ain’t so?” Daed’s gaze swung from Jacob to her. “Becky, as soon as the cookies cool, Jacob and I would both like one or two.”

  “Of course.” Becky turned back around and picked up a spatula. “Just a minute, Daed.” She lifted a cookie off the tray and laid it on a cooling rack. But as she slid the spatula under the next cookie, a wail filled the room, and the cradle in the corner began to rock.

  Daed stood, going quickly over to the cradle and lifting the three-month-old baby. He cradled her in his arms and walked back over to the table, cooing softly. “And this, Jacob, is Emma.”

  “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

  “Jah, she’s a sweetheart,” Daed said. “No boys in this family. Yet. But I thank the gut Lord for the girls.”

  Jacob smiled. “And that would be why you need help with the farm, jah?”

  Daed shrugged. Smiled. “It would appear that way, jah. But then, things are not always as they appear.”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Jacob woke up to strange surroundings, from the scent of rosewater that filled the room to the look and feel of the colorful quilt as he tugged the bed back together after his restless night’s sleep. A strange house. A strange town. A strange state. And the sickening knowledge that Daed had lied to him. Funny how that changed everything now.

  Daniel had showed Jacob around the farm the afternoon before. He’d seen the site of the small blacksmith business they had on the side. It allowed Daniel to keep the buggies in good repair, plus he made some decorative crafts to sell to tourists. Then, Jacob had gotten to see the garden shop the womenfolk ran on the premises. It had been quiet lately, but it would soon be bustling when they started the seedlings in the greenhouse to get ready to sell to the locals for their spring planting.

  Jacob’s stomach rumbled, a reminder that he’d barely picked at his lunch and supper. He’d even turned down the apple pie, and that was one of his favorite treats. He f
igured he could give a good meal the attention it deserved now, but he knew the usual order of things: certain chores first, then breakfast. He pulled on his loose-fitting pants, a blue shirt, and suspenders, slapped his black felt hat on his head, yanked on his coat, and headed downstairs. The rest of the dawdi-haus was quiet, with everyone already up and gone.

  Jacob pushed his way into the barn through the hanging doors.

  “Nice you could join us, Jacob,” came the good-natured comment from a dark corner. A lantern hanging from a hook lit a small area of space. Jacob rubbed his hands together to try to warm them, but it didn’t help much. The windchill had to be in the single digits. The barn seemed only a little warmer. He pulled in a breath, inhaling the strong, musty odor and the scent of animals. He saw the older man, the grossdaedi, climbing down a ladder from a loft where a gray cat waited at the top. Then, turning, he spied Daniel in with the cows.

  “How can I help?” Hay crunched under his feet as Jacob walked over to where Daniel sat on a low stool next to a milk cow.

  “Guess you could take over here. Or, you could get started feeding the animals.”

  For a second, Jacob stood in indecision. He wasn’t used to options. Daed communicated with orders. It seemed rather feminine of Cousin Daniel to talk like that. But he supposed that in a houseful of women, some of their ways rubbed off on him.

  He slapped his hands together, then rubbed them briskly. “I’ll finish the milking.” He glanced around as Daniel stood. “Sorry I was late.”

  “Ach. I just got started. You’re fine. I was teasing. Besides, it wouldn’t have hurt for you to sleep in a bit your first morning here. I know you had a long trip.”

  “Jah.” Not to mention the huge shock at discovering the truth, which had hampered his ability to fall asleep.

  Well, there also had been a bit of fascination with the blonde beauty who was probably even now baking up a storm in the kitchen. She certainly would make a good frau. Maybe for one of his friends who’d signed up for that swap Cousin Daniel had mentioned yesterday.

  Jacob sat on the three-legged wooden stool Daniel had vacated.

  “I made the trip once when your great-great-grandfather died. Barely knew him; he was a distant onkel of mine. But my frau thought it’d be nice to see the extended family. That was….” Daniel hesitated, then hoisted a bag of feed. “That was before you were born, I’m thinking.”

  “Jah.” Jacob didn’t know what else to say. He quirked his mouth and looked down at the milk flowing into the pail, then cut a glance at the gray tabby cat hovering nearby. With a small grin, he shot a stream of the liquid in the cat’s direction. When he looked up, Daniel had left.

  Leaving Jacob alone with his thoughts, the cows, and the cat.

  And the Lord.

  Jacob patted the cow’s side. “How do you like singing, Bessie?” He didn’t know the animal’s name, but it seemed at least one cow on every farm was named Bessie—sometimes all of them, depending on the farmer’s imagination or lack thereof.

  With a glance up at the dark rafters, Jacob pictured Susie strumming her guitar. He guessed that was when Daed and Susie had crossed plows. Daed had been furious when he’d discovered that Susie played the forbidden instrument. And even angrier when he’d learned that Susie had talked Jacob into going with her to a few Mennonite meetings.

  Daed hadn’t calmed down much, even when Jacob had promised to join the church. And especially since Susie hadn’t yet confessed to her sin. He’d gone off on a rant about how Jacob would be shunned if he married a worldly woman and left the faith as a result. Jacob had tried to tell Daed that wouldn’t happen, but Daed hadn’t listened.

  Jacob would try to write Susie later today and encourage her to confess and get rid of the guitar. Maybe then, Daed would be more receptive to their relationship. After all, if she loved him, she’d want to join the church with him. Might as well start now with the way they intended to go. With a slight lift of his left shoulder, he looked back at the Holstein and started singing.

  ***

  Becky tossed another handful of seed into the plastic dish the chickens ate from, then closed the bag. Brushing her hand against her apron, she paused for a moment as the sound of a man singing drifted in from the other side of the barn. That Jacob had a beautiful bass voice. He’d make a nice addition to the Sunday night singings the youth had—not that she’d hear him there. She’d kept her distance from those events since her sin had made her an outcast. No point in setting herself up for further hurt.

  With a sigh, she put the feed bag away, blew out the flame in the lantern, and headed up the six narrow stairs to the main floor of the barn. Time to get back to the house and help with breakfast. Her mother had mentioned German pizza last night. Becky’s mouth watered thinking of the breakfast casserole. With some hot coffee and some buttered toast, it would be a wonderful breakfast.

  But then he would be joining them for breakfast. For all meals, since her grandparents ate with the family, too. Last night, Jacob had only pushed food around on his plate. Becky felt sorry for him. It was hard enough to be in a new community, a new home, and harder still to learn that he was there under false pretenses. Even so, Becky had been hurt that he’d eaten only a couple of bites of her oven-fried chicken and hadn’t touched any of the other dishes she’d fixed in honor of his arrival. He hadn’t even tried a slice of pie. She couldn’t imagine anyone turning away a slice of her prize-winning apple pie. But he had.

  Pulling her coat more tightly around her, she pushed through the barn doors and made her way toward the kitchen.

  Once inside, she found Mamm busily peeling potatoes and slicing them for lunch. They’d be placed in a kettle of water and pushed to the back of the stove until it was time to cook them for the noon meal.

  Becky washed her hands, checked the casserole, and then set out jars of apple butter, fruit preserves, and jams. “Are you going out today, Mamm?”

  “Jah. We need to finish Sadie’s quilt soon. The bishop has given permission for her to marry John Beuler. Since they are both struggling after losing their spouses and have young children, they agreed it would be best for them not to wait until fall to marry.”

  “Ach, gut. I know Sadie was concerned about that.” Becky slid a knife through a loaf of bread.

  “You’re going to kum today, ain’t so? We could use your help on the quilt.”

  “Nein.” It was hard enough helping with normal quilts. But a quilt that was specially designed for a marriage bed? She couldn’t.

  “Emma stirred a bit ago. I sent Abbie to change her diaper and get her dressed.”

  “I’ll go feed her, then.” Becky turned toward the door as Katie came inside, carrying a couple of glass canning jars of corn they’d put up last summer. Since they kept them in the root cellar outside, the chilly air must have been what made Katie shiver.

  “Morning, Katie,” Becky greeted her.

  “Morning. I’ll take over in here.”

  “Jah. I’ll be right back.” She wanted to have Emma fed and be back in the kitchen before Daed, Grossdaedi, and Jacob came in. But why, she didn’t know. Even if she and Jacob somehow managed to forge a relationship, he’d surely shun her just the same as everyone else when he learned about her sins.

  It seemed the kneeling confession she’d made before the church hadn’t helped at all.

  Had she really expected it to?

  ***

  Jacob couldn’t keep from glancing around the kitchen when he walked in. Five girls of assorted sizes, plus the grossmammi and Daniel’s wife were all busy in the kitchen with some sort of cooking duty. The youngest girl set a fork and knife down on the table and then stopped to stare at him. Becky wasn’t in the room. He shrugged, bothered that he’d even looked for her. Daniel pushed past Jacob and headed for the sink, where he began to wash up. The grossdaedi hung up his coat on the coat tree.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Becky came in through the connecting door from the living room, carrying the bo
ppli close against her chest and whispering.

  His heart clenched.

  She’d make a great mother. A fantastic frau. For someone else, of course.

  The fact that she wasn’t married yet made Jacob wonder if the men around here were blind. Or maybe she was picky and wanted to hold out for that shipment of men Cousin Daniel had mentioned. After all, new blood would mean less risk of the DNA-related health problems some Amish families faced with their children.

  Or, maybe that gloomy attitude she sported scared the men off. Most men wanted a cheerful frau. Jacob included.

  He smiled. Jah, that would be his mission. Cheer up Becky so she could get married.

  Jacob rubbed his hands together to warm them, then crossed the room toward Becky, trying to ignore the way his heart rate increased as he neared her. “Here, let me take your sister. What was her name again?” He slid his hands under the baby’s arms and tugged. After a second, Becky loosened her hold on the boppli and stepped away.

  “Her name is Emma.” Becky looked down, then up again, a defiant expression ablaze in her blue eyes. Her chin lifted. “And she’s my daughter.”

  Chapter 4

  Becky had released her daughter and watched Jacob hold her close to his shoulder as if it were second nature to him. He’d looked down at her and given a soft coo, which had ended abruptly when Becky had made her bold declaration. Now, he stared at her, his gorgeous blue eyes widening with surprise.

  He stepped back, his gaze turning to assessment.

  Becky squared her shoulders and brushed past him, not wanting to see his inevitable look of condemnation. But maybe he’d think she’d been married. She wasn’t too young. Some Amish girls wed at seventeen. A few even had their first child by then.

  Of course, there was no husband around.

  Nor would there ever be.

  Becky ignored the man invading her world and bustled over to the stove, picking up a couple of crocheted potholders en route. The German pizza her mother had put together filled the air with the aromas of sausage, eggs, cheese, and potatoes. Breakfast casseroles were a rare treat at their house, reserved for special occasions. Apparently, Becky’s mother considered this Jacob worthy of the honor. Becky pulled open the oven door and carefully lifted the dish from the rack. She deposited it on another potholder in the middle of the table, then turned to find a knife.