Autumn Winds Page 10

  “I feel bad for poor Annie Mae,” she remarked, “because there’s no way a girl of seventeen can keep track of those two wild boys as well as little Sara and Timmy, all while cookin’ the meals and tendin’ the household chores, what with Nellie still bein’ in school. Truth be told, Hiram’s wife Linda didn’t have much better control over their behavior.”

  Ben chuckled under his breath. “I’ve no doubt Hiram intended to give Annie Mae a piece of his mind—but enough about the bishop, Miriam. I’ve never laid my eyes on such a wondrous sight.”

  As they reached the ridge, Miriam held her breath. Ben was gesturing toward the panorama of the river and the trees in their autumn glory, and at the farmland spread before them like a patchwork quilt of greens, golds, and browns—but he was looking at her. “This is one of my favorite places on God’s gut Earth,” she murmured, drawing her gaze away from his. She smiled and pointed toward a hillside that dropped down to the flowing water, just upstream from the rapids. “And right there’s where I watched my other little girl wash away when a storm made the water rise faster than I could climb away from it.”

  Ben’s face reflected his horror. “And how can ya stand here so calm-like, tellin’ me about such a tragedy—”

  “The story has a real happy endin’. No doubt you’ll meet my Rebecca one of these days and we’ll tell ya all about it,” Miriam replied, still amazed at how the whole surprise had worked itself out. “It’s nothin’ short of a miracle, how she survived the ride down that river and got raised by a nice English couple—and then came lookin’ for her real mamm.” She smiled up at Ben, squeezing his hand. “But enough about the girls. Do ya see anythin’ here that suits ya?”

  Miriam gestured toward the land and the river, and just that quickly Ben set down the picnic basket to slip his arms around her. “Everythin’,” he murmured. His eyes had a shine like honey, deep and sweet, as he lowered his face to hers. “But enough about this place bein’ the perfect site for my brothers’ mill.”

  Her heart beat so frantically Miriam thought she’d faint—but the gentle pressure of Ben’s lips on hers revived her. It was her first kiss in more than two years and it ended too soon. Yet she knew she was marked forever.

  “Miriam,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold back—or wait for a more proper time to—”

  “So help me, Ben Hooley, if you apologize for kissin’ me, you’ll not get a chance to do it again.”

  He raised his head to look at her, a smile lighting his face. “Ya won’t have to warn me twice, perty girl. Shall we walk along the river while I tell ya what I’ve got in mind? It’s a big decision all around—you sellin’ the land, and me tellin’ Luke and Ira to pull up roots and move to Missouri on the strength of my word.”

  “Your brothers would do that, without comin’ to look for themselves?”

  Ben chuckled as he took her hand again. They resumed their walk toward the river and a picnic on its banks. “They’re thirty and twenty-eight, champin’ at the bit to find a life for themselves, knowin’ the Hooley spread in Lancaster won’t support them. Even if a place came up for sale thereabouts, the price tag would stop your heart.”

  “Jah, I’ve heard Missouri’s still one of the most affordable places for folks to live, Plain or otherwise. Guess I take it for granted, after bein’ here all my life.” Miriam stopped at the top of the bank where she’d lost her grip on Rebecca that fateful day more than eighteen years ago. Downstream a little ways, the channel narrowed and the water rushed over a series of natural dams and boulders, sending up a fine spray above its white foam as it sang a bubbly, burbly song. “Not puttin’ ya off, understand, but I’ve got no idea how much I should be askin’ for—”

  “We’ll let the bank decide that, after we have the area appraised. For everyone’s sake, we’ve got to handle this as a business proposition, fair and square, Miriam.”

  She nodded, respecting Ben all the more. “We can call Derek Shotwell, the loan officer who handled the sale when Hiram tried to buy my buildin’. He’ll do the job right.”

  Ben slipped an arm around her shoulders, gazing at the flow of the river and the trees dressed in autumn reds and golds that sparkled as the sunset struck them. “I can wait as long as ya want, Miriam. This doesn’t have to be settled until you’re ready.”

  “I’m fine with it, Ben.” And as the words came out of her mouth of their own accord, Miriam knew them to be true, no matter how other folks might tell her she was thinking with her heart instead of her head. “This part of the farm has always been so rocky and the soil so shallow, it’s not been gut for crops. Jesse ran a few cows here years ago, but the river was a hazard to them. So fishin’s about the only productive thing we’ve done here. A lot of Missouri land’s mostly just nice to look at.”

  “Jah, it’s perty in a different way from Pennsylvania. Less cultivated . . . less crowded.” Ben cupped his hand over his brow to keep the sun out of his eyes. “We’d need access to the road. Can’t have property locked in by other folks’ land—and that’s the blacktop runnin’ in front of your café, ain’t so?”

  “Jah, and since Lantz land goes across the river a bit, and the road is the boundary on the north, the access ya want is no problem at all.” Was this conversation—this business proposition—going too smoothly? Was there anything she should consider before agreeing to what Ben wanted? Four days ago, she’d not even met this man. “Tell me again what sort of mill you’ve got in mind,” Miriam said. “How will it turn a gut enough profit so your brothers can put up the buildin’ and buy the equipment and still make a livin’ for themselves?”

  Ben turned to gaze at her. “Miriam Lantz, talk like that tells me you’re not just another perty face,” he murmured. “And I like it that you’ve got some business smarts!”

  Once again her heart hammered with joy. “My ledger kept me from cavin’ in to Hiram’s plan to buy me out a couple months back. He’ll think this land transaction is more monkey business than gut business.”

  “When Luke and Ira write up a business plan for the banker, it’ll include the kinds of grains they plan to mill—basics like wheat and corn and oats, but also the organic grains for cereals and baking mixes like you find in whole foods stores,” Ben explained. “The mill wheel can run on water power from those rapids, or it could be horse drawn or have a diesel engine,” he added. “And since Luke and Ira could grind feed for the local farmers’ livestock, as well as pay those fellows to grow the specialty grains for these new products, a lot of folks in Willow Ridge stand to profit from diversifyin’.”

  Miriam nodded, already certain Derek Shotwell would approve of this forward-thinking idea. And wasn’t it a bonus that Ben Hooley’s brothers were single? Years of the same families intermarrying was a concern as more Old Order children were being born with genetic disorders.

  “But enough about my brothers,” Ben quipped. “I’m so hungry I could eat this whole picnic plus the basket ya brought it in.”

  “Well then.” Miriam took an old quilt from the basket, and they spread it on a large, flat rock overlooking the rapids. Ben was lifting out foil packets, inhaling each one with an ecstatic grin.

  “Let me guess,” he murmured. “Ya fried up a chicken . . . and this flat one is sliced bread, buttered and still warm . . . and this bowl is”—he lifted the edge of the aluminum foil—“green beans cooked with potatoes! How’d ya know what all my favorite foods were?”

  Miriam laughed. What a joy to have a man get so excited about everyday dishes. “Ask Rhoda. She was in charge of dinner tonight—and I stashed away the last couple pieces of that coconut cake, so you and I could share it. I know you men like pie better, but—”

  “It never pays to quibble with the cook. And your Rhoda’s a fine one, too.” Ben watched her take out two plates and the silverware. “Is she still peeved at me for sayin’ I’m too old to court her?”

  Miriam shrugged. “She and Rachel were headed to my sister’s for a carvin’ party. Leah grew s
ome huge pumpkins for jack-o’-lanterns and she’s donatin’ some for a benefit auction this weekend.”

  “Hmm. If any of those scary Halloween faces look like mine, I guess we’ll know how Rhoda feels, ain’t so?”

  Miriam giggled, loving the way Ben’s laughter blended with hers in a duet that lingered among the trees. He took her hand then, bowing his head. Miriam closed her eyes, which made her aware of how her pulse rushed like the rapids . . . and how warm and strong Ben Hooley’s hand felt.

  Lord, I thank Ya for this fine time . . . for this man who’s givin’ me so much to be happy about. Is this the promise You were talkin’ to me about the other day, Father?

  What a pleasure it was to sit beside this man and watch him enjoy his food. How soothing, to talk in low voices about farmers around Willow Ridge who might grow grain for his brothers . . . downright intoxicating, to bask in the last rays of daylight as Ben Hooley gazed at her, obviously as smitten as she was. Too soon the food was gone. They packed up and headed back to the house hand in hand, strolling across the fields of evening as a nearly full moon lit their way.

  When they were within sight of the house, Ben cleared his throat. “I have a couple of favors to ask, Miriam. And no is a perfectly gut answer to either one.”

  She gazed up at him, wondering if she could possibly deny anything he’d ask for. “I’m listenin’.”

  “May I use your phone to call my brothers? If I let them know I’ll be comin’ East for them when I finish the work I’ve promised here, they can be packed up and ready to roll by the time I get back to Pennsylvania.”

  “Of course ya can use my phone, Ben! I—”

  He caught the side of her face in his hand. “One more kiss before the girls might see us.” With that, he eased his lips over hers, lingering longer this time. When they finally separated, they sighed together.

  “And now for the bigger favor,” he continued. “When I get here with Luke and Ira, they’ll be needin’ a place to stay while they build the mill—”

  “We live in a six-bedroom house, Ben. The girls and I would be pleased to clear out one of the spare rooms for them.”

  “Actually, scoldin’ those Knepp twins today gave me another idea.” He grinned at her in the moonlight, as though he were about to suggest something outrageous. “If it’s all right with you, my brothers could bunk with me above the smithy and . . . I might bring a couple of aunts back, too—more for an extended visit to help us out, rather than to make their home here. They’re maidels who used to teach school. Might be more proper for them to stay in one of your rooms at the house, ain’t so?”

  Miriam’s eyebrows rose. “Of course your aunts can stay with us, Ben! And why do I think you’re up to somethin’?”

  He chuckled richly, stepping away from her as they emerged from the orchard. “See there? Ya already know me so well I won’t be gettin’ away with much.”

  When they reached the steps, Ben looked at Miriam with an expression she couldn’t read. “Might be best if I go now, Miriam, in case your girls come—”

  “I’ve got nothin’ to hide from Rachel or Rhoda. They need to see me with a man again.” Miriam let out a short chuckle as she preceded him to the kitchen door. “Hiram doesn’t count, ya know.”

  Ben’s chuckle followed her inside the house. He stepped in behind her, waiting as she lit the lantern nearest the door and then the one over by the sink.

  “How about a cup of coffee? Or tea?”

  “Sounds like the perfect endin’ to a wonderful-gut walk along the river.” As he hung his hat on a peg by the door, his boots made a solid, sturdy sound on the plank floor.

  “Make yourself at home, Ben. I’ll just be a minute.” Miriam’s fingers trembled as she filled the teakettle under the faucet, set it on the burner, and lit the gas flame beneath it.

  This felt mighty bold. If her girls came home from Leah’s to find her cozying up to Ben Hooley, she’d have no end of questions to answer. It had been so long since they’d had a man in their kitchen, except for Micah, coming to fix some little thing.

  When Miriam turned to ask Ben more about his aunts, the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Ben sat in the chair at the end of the table, always her husband’s place. For a fleeting moment it was Jesse’s face she saw: the weathered skin, pale across the top of his forehead from wearing his hat; the dark hair with gray at the temples and the wavy black beard with threads of white.

  Jesse’s blue, blue eyes looked through to her soul. Those eyes had missed nothing, and at times Rachel and Rhoda’s expressions—those same direct eyes—called up Jesse’s memory.

  What do ya think you’re doin’ with this strange fella in my house? And who gave ya the right to sell off my land?

  Miriam’s hand flew to her mouth. That was Jesse’s voice asking those questions. His disapproval made her heart skitter as though one of the preachers had called her out in church for falling asleep.

  “Miriam, are ya all right?” Ben rose from the chair.

  And then the mirage disappeared. The spell cast by a moment’s memory dissipated as quickly as it had come. But Miriam’s heart still raced while her husband’s voice echoed in her mind. The teakettle whistled, but she paid it no mind. “I—I’m sorry, Ben,” she rasped. “I don’t know what’s come over me. There for a minute, it was Jesse sittin’ at the table—”

  He stepped quickly to her side. “I wasn’t thinkin’, Miriam. Sat down at the end as though I was at—at home.”

  “Ya have to go now, Ben.” Miriam backed away from him. “I—I’m havin’ second thoughts about that land—”

  “It’s all right, Miriam,” he murmured. “We can talk it over—”

  “Just go. Jesse’s tellin’ me this is all wrong, and I—I have to listen.”

  Ben sighed. He took his hat from the peg and put it on, gazing at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Miriam,” he whispered. “Maybe this’ll all look better come mornin’.”

  Miriam bowed her head, knowing that if she maintained eye contact it would be easier for this man to charm his way back into her heart.

  The door closed quietly. The kettle whistled, loud and shrill like a siren, but for the longest time she didn’t have the strength to turn off the burner.

  Chapter 12

  Across the yard Miriam strode, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders as she hurried toward the Brenneman house. She shivered when the wind kicked up. What on Earth had she been thinking, sitting on the riverbank in October without a wrap, eating a picnic dinner with a man she hardly knew? Naomi’s lamplit windows were a welcome sight as Miriam hurried past the garden plots her sister Leah tended for farmers’ markets.

  Up the gravel driveway Miriam rushed, as though the Devil nipped at her heels. Had that same serpent been whispering in her ear, tempting her to fall for a sweet-talker none of them had seen before last Saturday? All along she’d wondered if things between her and Ben Hooley had been going too smoothly. Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts and put on the brakes?

  Miriam raced up the Brennemans’ porch steps to pound on the door. Through the glass she saw Ezra at the head of the table in his wheelchair, with Micah and Seth seated across the table from Aaron and Naomi. Naomi motioned Miriam inside with a wide smile.

  Miriam swiped at her eyes. She hadn’t thought about it being dinnertime—had lost all track of normal activity, it seemed—because Ben had beguiled her. It wouldn’t do to weep and wail in front of the boys, and Ezra wouldn’t tolerate her crying, either. The poor man had fallen through a rotten roof on a construction job and lost his legs; his constant discomfort colored his entire outlook on life.

  Bless her, Naomi came to the door as though she sensed a crisis. “Miriam!” she whispered, drawing her in out of the chill. “I thought ya were goin’ for a stroll with—did Ben not show up, dearie?”

  “Oh, it’s not that!” Miriam whimpered. “It was all goin’ so well—too well. We were talkin’ about his brothers comin’ here to start up a mill—but then Ben c
ame into the kitchen and”—Miriam gulped hard, catching her breath—“oh, Naomi, I’ve made a horrible mess of things. Thank goodness my Jesse stopped me. Scared the daylights outta me, but it scared some smarts back into me, if that makes any sense.”

  Glancing at her sons and husband, who were watching them with curious expressions, Naomi grabbed a barn coat from a peg by the door. “I’ll be back in a few,” she said. “Your pie’s on the sideboard, all cut and ready.”

  Miriam felt better as Naomi guided her to the front porch. She trusted her dearest friend to answer her questions honestly and point out details she might have missed. And Miriam had a sinking feeling she had missed a lot of pertinent facts these past few days while she’d been basking in the glow of handsome Ben Hooley’s smile.

  “So what’s this about Ben?” Naomi slipped an arm around Miriam’s shoulders and they started down Ezra’s ramp together. “I thought you two were hittin’ it off—”

  “All too well!” Miriam exclaimed. “I—I can’t explain it. Deep down, I sensed things with Ben were kickin’ up too fast, yet I didn’t stop and think! And I’ve all but sold off a parcel of land along the river so his brothers can come here and start up a mill—”

  “Jah,” Naomi remarked, her expression taut as she followed along. “Seems reasonable enough to me, as long as ya get everythin’ drawn up nice and legal-like.”

  “But then—then we were walkin’ back from the river, and I invited him into the kitchen for a cup of—” Miriam shuddered. “Oh, Naomi, I can’t describe it. When I turned from settin’ the kettle on to see Ben sittin’ at the head of the table, it was suddenly Jesse lookin’ back at me! Askin’ me why I’d let that stranger into his home! And what right did I have to sell off some of his land!”