New Beginnings at Promise Lodge Page 17

  Her suggestion made Allen realize that he’d rushed into his new building venture on the excitement of the tiny home craze, without thinking far enough ahead. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask Rosetta if he could build his tiny homes on the large lawn beside the cabin he rented—and he needed to get her permission sooner rather than later. He should probably offer to pay more rent, as well.

  Allen kept driving, listening to Phoebe’s good-natured conversation and putting in an occasional response. He admired her—adored her—in many ways, but her property suggestion had sent him into a tailspin. He set aside his concerns, however, as they drove into Cloverdale to look around. They saw the large white building where Irene attended Mennonite church services, as well as Maria Zehr’s new storefront bakery.

  After they enjoyed cream puffs and coffee at one of Maria’s tables while they chatted with her, Phoebe agreed to Allen’s suggestion that they circle back to Promise Lodge on a different road. It was a beautiful day for a drive, and he chuckled as Phoebe recalled Maria’s reaction to the successful pie business she and Irene were running in Maria’s previous building.

  When Allen pulled off the state highway onto the shoulder, he didn’t mention that they’d reached the eastern boundary of the Promise Lodge property. He guided Phoebe between some trees and outcroppings of rocks before they reached a hilltop clearing that gave her a whole new perspective of the tract of land her mamm, her two aunts, and his dat had purchased a little more than a year ago.

  Phoebe sucked in her breath. “You can see everything from up here!” she said in a hushed voice. “There’s Lavern and Lowell in the bishop’s training ring with a couple of Clydesdales, and Harley’s herd of sheep—with Queenie watching them from beneath that shade tree—and Marlin’s barrel factory, and all of our houses! And Rainbow Lake, and Mamm’s dairy barn, and Ruby’s white beehives in the orchard. Wow.”

  Allen rested his hand at the base of her spine, nodding as her excitement took hold of him, too. “It reminds me of a big table with scenery and buildings for a model train setup,” he remarked. “The progress our settlement’s made is really amazing, when you consider that before our parents came, only the lodge building and the cabins were there, surrounded by a lot of undeveloped land.”

  Phoebe stood mesmerized, studying the panorama of Promise Lodge as though she wanted to memorize every fence line and shed. Allen treasured her rapt expression and the closeness of her slender body as she leaned against him. He sensed he’d given her a gift by showing her their settlement from this hilltop vantage point.

  “What about that parcel of land tucked behind the Lehman places and the orchard?” she asked dreamily, pointing at it. “From the side of the hill, we’d have a beautiful view of the lake. We’d have to have a road built to give us access to it—but anyone who claimed that piece of property would need to do that. What do you think, Allen? Should I ask Mamm if I can have it?”

  Allen’s throat closed with the sudden case of nerves her question caused him. After Phoebe’s earlier remark about property, you should’ve known better than to bring her here! his inner voice chided. Now she’s planning your future, and she thinks you’re okay with that.

  He eased away from her, pretending to look at something near the lodge so she wouldn’t see how she’d startled him. Their relationship, which had felt so comfortable over the past week, now gave him the sensation that an invisible halter had been fastened around his head—and that Phoebe was holding the lead rope.

  “That’s up to you and your mamm,” he replied cautiously. “She might’ve had specific places in mind for you and your sister.”

  “True. I’ll have to ask her about it when I get back.”

  Allen tried not to act as though he was in a hurry to get away from her, but as dusk fell, he drove Phoebe straight home. He’d been looking forward to kissing her, yet when she threw her arms around him—right in front of the bishop’s house, where Monroe or her mother might be watching them—Allen tasted Phoebe’s confident assumption that his plans for the future meshed with hers.

  Claustrophobia engulfed him. He stabled his horse and the wagon at his dat’s place, and then jogged behind the lodge and the cabins, relieved to reach his little home on wheels without encountering Cyrus, Jonathan, or anyone else.

  Maybe I should hitch the horses to this place and head down the road—tonight, Allen thought as he shut the door behind him.

  But he couldn’t leave Promise Lodge. He’d already started on the two new homes he was building, and he had nowhere else to haul his materials.

  Why didn’t you have plan B in place before you jumped into this tiny home business? Or before you showed an interest in Phoebe?

  At twenty-three, Allen was no stranger to romance, so he recognized the signs. The adoration on Phoebe’s pretty face as they’d passed beneath the Promise Lodge entry sign had told him she was hooked on him—and he’d been happy to go along with that idea until she’d started talking about property. Phoebe was already envisioning a home on the hill overlooking Rainbow Lake, along with the marriage that fantasy implied; she surely wouldn’t allow him to move his construction business to her property without expecting something in return. Even if he went along with her plans for a happily-ever-after, he didn’t have the money to build her a traditional house that was big enough for a family—or her dreams. The novelty of living in his tiny home would wear off quickly for a young woman who was accustomed to a full-sized kitchen with a family-sized table.

  Allen’s rueful sigh filled his little house. He had to throw cold water on this situation—had to put out Phoebe’s fire immediately—before both of them got burned.

  * * *

  Phoebe rushed toward the kitchen, bursting to talk with her mother—except Monroe was sitting at the head of the table beside her, and they were engrossed in a game of Scrabble. Their faces glowed in the light from the battery lamp, but it was a sense of deep, abiding love that made her mother appear so radiant these days. Rather than interrupting them, Phoebe paused in the doorway. More than anything, when she and Allen married, she wanted to feel the fulfillment that filled this kitchen—the sheer joy that always simmered just beneath the surface of her mother’s face whenever Monroe was near.

  “Nice try, sweetheart, but you can’t play ferhoodled,” Monroe challenged with a chuckle.

  “But it’s a word, and you know it!” Mamm protested.

  “Jah, I know all about feeling ferhoodled,” he agreed, “but just because you muddle my brains every time you touch me doesn’t mean I’ll allow you a word that’s not in the English dictionary we’re using. Rules are rules.”

  “I know just how to touch you so you’ll let me play whatever I want!” her mother teased as her hand slipped beneath the table.

  When Phoebe gasped, the couple immediately sat up straighter. “You’re home already,” Mamm observed with a little laugh. “Did you and Allen have a gut time?”

  The lamplight danced in Monroe’s dark eyes as he pushed out the chair on the other side of him. “If you don’t want to share all the details, that’s all right—because we don’t, either.”

  Phoebe blushed, but she sat down. Maybe it was best that Monroe was here, after all, because he was quicker than Mamm to acknowledge her as an adult. Her mother would tell him about her request before the night was over, anyway.

  “Allen and I had a fine time—and I’ve decided on the plot of land you said I could have when we moved to Promise Lodge.” The words came out in more of a rush than she’d intended, but Phoebe held her mother’s startled gaze. “You still want to do that for Laura and me, jah?”

  Mamm’s eyes got huge as she took a sip of her iced tea. “Of course I do,” she replied warily. “What brought this on?”

  Phoebe shrugged, fighting a nervous grin. “When Allen and I stopped alongside the highway and looked out over the whole spread of Promise Lodge, I—I spotted a place I’ve not seen before. It’s behind the Lehman places and the orchard, and it has enough
rise to it that a house would look out over Rainbow Lake—”

  When Mamm shot Monroe an alarmed glance, Phoebe finished her thought. “The moment I saw it, I thought about what a blessing it would be to have such a view—to watch the sun rise over the lake each morning,” she explained quickly. “And if I don’t speak for it, somebody else surely will.”

  Monroe nodded. “I know the property you’re talking about. We’ll need to run a road up to that section—but that will happen anyway, as more folks come here to live,” he added in a thoughtful tone. “That piece of ground’s too hilly and rocky to be suitable for crops, so it’s probably a fine choice for you—unless you’re going to take up farming someday,” he teased.

  He reached for Mamm’s hand as a sentimental smile softened his face. “I considered that area on the hill myself,” he recounted, “but when I brought your mamm to this spot that overlooks the valley, she could already envision big red barns and Clydesdales grazing in the pasture, so I chose this place. She’s persuasive that way, your mamm is.”

  Phoebe couldn’t miss the shimmer of affection that passed between her mother and Monroe again. She was grateful that he was finding positive things to say, because her mother still seemed tongue-tied.

  “If I understand the arrangement correctly,” Monroe went on, “you Bender sisters and Amos pooled the money from selling your previous farms to buy this entire tract of land. As each new family moves here, you deposit the money they pay for their property into your management account, jah? And—just as Mattie gave her two sons the places they’re living on—you’re going to provide plots for your girls?”

  “Jah, that’s what we decided,” Mamm confirmed. “Because Rosetta wasn’t married then, the lodge and the cabins became hers so she could earn an income from them. The rest of us chose the property we wanted—and I took the plot with the barns on it for my dairy herd. We suspect horses were once kept there, for trail riding.”

  Phoebe admired the way her mamm and aunts had dared to invest in the abandoned campground that had become home for so many Plain families. Mamm’s sense of accomplishment was shining in her eyes, easing the anxiety she’d shown a few moments ago.

  “We’ve made back our initial investment and we’re using the surplus to fund major improvements—like the new roof the lodge needs, and building roads,” Mamm continued as she gazed at Monroe. “Truman did a lot of that work for us at a much lower cost than somebody else might’ve charged, so we’ve been in the black from the start.”

  Monroe was following her words closely. “So although we’d welcome more new families, the settlement—and you initial investors—are in gut financial shape even if no one else comes here.”

  “It still amazes me, what we’ve accomplished,” Mamm murmured. She focused on Phoebe, smiling wistfully. “Your question about claiming your land caught me off guard because I figured it would be a few years before you’d want it. Maybe we should ask Laura to choose a place, as well, so Truman can do any road work or other improvements for both of you at the same time.”

  An immense sense of relief washed over Phoebe as she sat back in the chair. Maybe because Monroe was so supportive, Mamm wasn’t going to insist on any details about her request.

  “Tell me, though,” Mamm continued as she studied Phoebe in the lamplight. “Does this sudden urge to claim your land have anything to do with Allen? Or are you figuring you’ll earn enough with your pie shop to have a house of your own someday—so you won’t have to live with us newlyweds anymore?”

  Phoebe swallowed hard. Should she reveal how certain she was that she wanted to marry Allen? When she thought of a conversational way to sidestep that, she nodded. “Yes.”

  Monroe laughed out loud. “You can sit on the fence now, young lady,” he teased, “but soon enough we’ll figure out what’s going on, ain’t so?”

  Phoebe scooted away from the table and stood up. “Denki for your generosity, Mamm, and for seeing that Laura and I receive the same benefits Mattie gave Noah and Roman,” she said lightly. “I suspect it wouldn’t have worked that way if we’d stayed in Coldstream.”

  Mamm’s eyebrows shot up. “If we’d stayed in Coldstream,” she said, “just think of all the wonderful-gut people we wouldn’t have met and the businesses we Bender sisters couldn’t have started. All three of us would still be single—and miserable.”

  When Mamm gazed lovingly at Monroe, Phoebe took her cue to leave them to their Scrabble game—and to the speculative conversation they’d have about her and Allen.

  But that’s all right, she told herself, smiling as she passed through the unlit front room to go upstairs. Pretty soon, everyone at Promise Lodge will be talking about us, wishing us well as they anticipate our wedding!

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Marlin guided Frances inside his barrel factory on Wednesday afternoon, his hopes for the future were high. The low metal building rang with the racket of Harley’s hammer as he pounded rings around wooden staves to make new barrels. Harley’s pounding meant he couldn’t hear what Marlin and Frances were talking about, but he could see them, so he knew nothing improper was going on.

  “Harley makes our basic barrels, and then Lowell and I add the other details,” Marlin explained to Frances. “A lot of rain barrels are made from big plastic drums, but our clientele likes the look of wood, so that’s the only kind we make.”

  He placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her past some items that were ready to ship. “We sell a lot of these barrels with the checkerboards on top, as well as the shorter porch tables that have storage space inside,” he said as he pointed them out. “And these barrels with pumps and potting tables attached are going over to the Helmuths’ nursery! We’re delighted to have Sam and Simon as new customers.”

  Frances nodded. She was listening closely, but her brown eyes lacked their usual luster. “So they’ll collect rain from the nursery building downspouts, and use that water when they plant seeds for bedding plants and such?”

  “Jah—and if you haven’t seen all of the blooming plants they’ve got now, I’ll take you over there.” Marlin smiled, because her question had given him the opening he’d been hoping for. “The greenhouses are a sight to behold, filled with all the colors of their impatiens, coleus, and hanging baskets of geraniums and fuchsia. We could get you some flowers for beds or porch pots or—”

  “Not that I could plant them,” she interrupted with a sigh.

  Marlin kicked himself for not wording his idea differently. Sunday was Mother’s Day. He’d considered getting her several flats of plants as a gift—and planting them for her—but her despondent tone of voice raised a red flag. “I’m sorry the doctor said your arms have to stay in slings for another week, sweetheart,” he murmured beneath the staccato beat of Harley’s hammer. “I know you were hoping to start your physical therapy.”

  Frances nodded, looking away from him.

  “I’d be happy to get you some flowers and plant them for you,” Marlin continued, trying to sound upbeat. “They’ll be something colorful to look at while you recuperate—and if we get them soon, you can choose what you like best before they get picked over.”

  Frances remained quiet for a few moments. “My hands are itching to touch warm, moist soil and my arms ache to cuddle baby David,” she said sadly. “I had no idea how deprived—how useless—I’d feel with my arms slung up like broken wings. I’d give anything to wash a sinkful of dishes.”

  Marlin carefully slipped his arm around her shoulders. He played another conversational card, hoping it would lift her spirits. “I was delighted when Lowell and Fannie asked me about giving you a couple of rain barrels for . . . for a Mother’s Day gift,” he said gently. “And Minerva wants to take enough food for the common meal after church on Sunday so that Mary Kate and Gloria don’t have to cook anything. You’ll feel a lot better if you come to church and mingle with your friends, don’t you think?”

  The last thing Marlin expected was Frances’s wide-e
yed response. She appeared as terrified as a spooked horse, and just as ready to bolt. “I—I’m figuring to come to church on Sunday, jah,” she replied in a tight voice, “but there’s something I really need to say, Marlin. Please hear me out.”

  Marlin’s heart thudded. Frances was swallowing hard, blinking back tears as she tried to pull herself together. When he gently blotted her cheeks with his handkerchief, the swiftness with which she turned away startled him. The past two weeks had been very difficult for her, yet until this meltdown, he’d thought Frances was handling her affliction with more patience than most folks would.

  Frances sniffled, sighing loudly. “I—I spoke too soon about making you a part of my future, Marlin,” she blurted miserably. “Gloria and Harley will never accept it if you and I marry, and I—I can’t deal with their constant confrontations. And maybe they’re right. Maybe we Lehmans aren’t cut out to blend into the Kurtz family.”

  Marlin sucked in his breath. Her words had packed an unexpected punch—and it didn’t help that Harley had stopped hammering and seemed to be following their conversation from across the shop. “What’s changed your mind?” he whispered. “After we ate supper at your place, you seemed so happy—so determined to make this work.”

  “I was wrong.”

  He frowned. Frances sounded so certain, so final. “Has Gloria been filling your head with negative—?” Marlin’s thoughts whirled as he searched for ideas that would change Frances’s mind. “At her age, Gloria won’t have to become a Kurtz if you and I marry. I suspect she’ll want to keep her dat’s name for a lot of reasons.”

  A tear dribbled down Frances’s face and splattered on one of her slings. “Gloria’s not saying much these days. But this was my decision, not hers.”

  Marlin racked his brain for a convincing comeback. Why did Frances suddenly sound so dead-set against their relationship? “We wouldn’t have to live at my place with Harley, you know,” he pointed out quickly. “And one of these days Gloria will be moving away to marry—meanwhile, she could probably live at Mary Kate and Roman’s place.”