Abby Finds Her Calling (5 page)

Abby swiped at sudden tears. This was foolishness, to dredge up feelings she’d thought she’d put to rest. “Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I just have to keep believing God’s got different ideas for me—”

“That’s why you took up your sewing, using your best talents to start up your own business—right there where you could help Sam run the store,” her mamm reassured her. “And it’s why your dat built you a little place across the lane, knowing that someday Matt would marry and have his family in this house, where his sheep and the gut pastureland are.” Mamm shook her head wistfully. “Sam might rant about how Leroy favored Zanna, but your dat looked ahead to what each of you kids would need… how you’d best follow your own paths yet be able to stay here, near the homeplace.”

Abby nodded, her sadness stabbing her.
Why did you have to leave us so soon, Dat?
It was a question they’d all asked many times, even while believing his death had taken him home to God. She closed her eyes, praying for stronger faith—and the maturity to get beyond the fact that James Graber hadn’t chosen
her
. “Do you want to come
stay with me until Zanna shows up?” she asked her mother. “I know how Sam’s temper wears on you.”

“I’ll be fine, Abby. But denki for asking.” Mamm thumbed away a tear and then sat straighter, drawing in a resolute breath. “Let’s hope your little sister hasn’t gotten herself into something she can’t get out of. She’s never been one to think things through the way you do, Abby. Your dat and I were so proud of how you always made sensible decisions.”

“Even though I didn’t marry?”

Her mother smiled. “It’s not such a bad thing, being a woman with her own business… her own life. Goodness knows where I’d be without the greenhouse,” she admitted. “I might have buried myself under the covers like a scared cat after Leroy passed, and never found out how strong I can be. And how much I still have to contribute.”

Abby considered this as she absorbed her mother’s praise and confidence. Where would she be without the love and support of her family?

Mamm was sounding more like herself now, so Abby stood up. “I won’t be worth much tomorrow if I don’t get some rest. After we clean up the greenhouse, I have curtains to finish for Lois Yutzy. And the care center in Clearwater has ordered more lap robes.”

“We’ll stay busy and believe the best about Zanna,” her mother said with a decisive nod. She squeezed Abby’s hand before letting it go. “It’s gut you stopped by, ain’t so? We’re both feeling better for it. Sleep tight, Abigail.”

“You, too, Mamm.”

The next morning James stood on his front porch and gazed across the road toward the Lambright place. The October dawn nipped at his ears, and fog hovered in Matt’s sheep pasture where Cedar Creek cut through it. It was such a peaceful scene at first light, yet he was still too upset to fully appreciate it. The only thing to do was help set
the buildings and the yard to rights, even if his wedding day had been a fiasco. Cleaning up after the festivities was a newly married couple’s first responsibility.

Had Zanna slipped in last night? What on earth would he say if she was there?

He chuckled mirthlessly and started walking. It would only be fair for
her
to speak first—if Sam left her any words.

And what if she wanted to kiss and make up? Or hinted about getting hitched now that her nerves had settled?

And what if she didn’t?

Again James shook his head, rueful for these and a hundred other questions that had swarmed like bees in his head all night.

From the greenhouse door he heard male voices. The pew wagon was parked nearby, partly filled with the narrow wooden benches that traveled from home to home for Sunday preaching services, weddings, and funerals. James paused in the entry. Plain folks didn’t decorate their weddings with cut flowers, but the colorful mums and lacy ferns that Treva grew for her shop had made a fine backdrop for their wedding meal. The glass ceiling and walls gave the place an ethereal look… as if a heavenly light glowed around everyone who went inside.

He braced himself for whatever Sam might say to him. He and Sam Lambright had been friends all their lives, but no one’s feelings were spared when the storekeeper’s dander was up.

What if Sam blamed him for Zanna’s running off? Emma and her friends claimed she had been downright giddy about getting hitched—happier than they’d ever seen her. But the men might know different.

“Mornin’ to you, James. Didn’t figure you’d be over.” Matt Lambright set down the end of the pew he’d been moving, and then his dat looked toward the door, as well. In their denim barn jackets, hats, and work gloves, they could have been twins except for Matt’s clean-shaven face.

“If you’re looking for Zanna, you’re in the wrong place.” The edge was still sharp in Sam’s voice, yet he seemed pleased to see James. “Not much use in asking how you’re doing, I reckon.”

James shook the hand Sam offered, pleased to feel his usual welcoming grip. “I appreciate all the work you went to, making the place look extra-special for the wedding, and buying all that food.”

“And why wouldn’t I do that?” Sam asked, shrugging. “We were all so sure Suzanna had met her match and that she couldn’t have picked a finer one. I don’t know what got into that girl. Can’t tell from one minute to the next what’s going through that stubborn blond head. I’m sure sorry it turned out this way, James.”

“Jah, we feel right bad about the whole thing,” Matt chimed in. “It’ll take a while for the talk to die down after she gets back. And if she doesn’t show up…”

The sentence drifted toward the greenhouse’s ceiling. Father and son stood silent.

James raked his hair back from his face and replaced his hat. “Let’s don’t cross that bridge before we get to it,” he replied. “Right now, these pews need to be at the Yutzy place for Sunday.”

The physical labor of hefting wooden benches, and stacking them in the wagon just so to get them all to fit, gave him welcome relief from all the what-ifs that plagued him. James was grateful for the comfortable way the three of them worked together without the need for chitchat or analyzing a situation that defied male logic. Phoebe and Gail came in to wipe down the long tables, while Ruthie stuffed a plastic bag with trash. Their crowd of nearly four hundred had included dozens of children, so all sorts of food had hit the greenhouse floor. Panda and Pearl, Matt’s dogs, snatched up tasty morsels as they trotted around in the big, airy building.

While Matt delivered the pews to their next destination, James and Sam knocked down the tables and stacked them against the wall. “I appreciate your coming over,” Sam repeated. “I didn’t figure on opening the store this morning, but I’ve got backed-up bookwork
that will make the day go faster. It’s better than getting caught up in the clucking and squawking that will likely happen here at home.”

James’s lips twitched. “Happy to help out, since I’d cleared my calendar of carriage work until after Thanksgiving. If I look too bored, Emma will no doubt put me to work.”

“How’s hot coffee and warm apple cake sound about now?” The familiar voice preceded a slender figure silhouetted in the doorway, holding a tray. Abby stepped inside, glowing for a moment as the morning’s first burst of sunshine lit the huge room. Her eyebrows rose. “And you’re here, James? How gut to see you. And how are your folks and Emma this morning?”

Bless her, the first words out of Abby’s mouth weren’t about how
he
was doing, or if he’d seen Zanna. “Dat’s caught himself a cold with a nasty cough, so of course Mamm’s hovering, telling him that’s what comes of gathering eggs without his jacket.”

“Fresh horehound syrup would be just the thing for both of them.” Abby set her tray on the last standing table. “It would give your mamm something to cook up, and after taking it, your dat would most likely nap and feel better, too.”

“Gut idea.” James glanced at Sam, who’d plucked a thick slice of the fragrant cake from the tray as though he was ready to leave. “I’ll come to the store in a bit to fetch the makings.”

“I’ll be glad to take them over, James,” Sam said. “Gut chance to chat with your folks… see how they’re doing.” With a nod the older man walked off, as though taking a bag of dried horehound across the road to the Grabers was just the task he’d been hoping for.

James smiled. Abby had hefted herself onto the table as though to settle in for a cozy chat. She poured two mugs of steaming coffee and placed a slice of cake on a napkin before patting a spot on the other side of her tray.

How did she know he’d thought of talking to her? And with the girls gone inside, it seemed a fine chance to speak of things he
couldn’t share with just anyone. “Denki, Abby. Awful nice of you,” he murmured. He inhaled the aromas of sugar and cinnamon and strong coffee. “Emma’s had her hands full dealing with our parents this morning, so breakfast was running late. I didn’t want Sam to think I was ducking my after-wedding chores.”

“Or that you were too done in to show your face?” she suggested softly. “You’re a gut man, James. Sam looks all the better after spending some time with you today. More relaxed.”

His eyes widened. Who else would have noticed such a thing? Or suspected the anxiety that had almost kept him home today? “Well, like I told your brother, I’d cleared my calendar of any shop work, so…”

“It’s the mindless little jobs that save us from ourselves sometimes.”

“You’ve got that right. Mmm—mighty gut cake, Abby,” James grunted around the mouthful he’d taken. “Nothing tastes as fine as the fresh apples and black walnuts from your own trees.”

“I thought it might sweeten up our morning. Brought it over from home, knowing Barbara and Mamm might not feel much like baking.”

James looked at her over his coffee mug. “You must have gotten up awful early.”

“And
you
slept last night?” She shook her head ruefully. “I don’t need a mirror to see the dark hollows under my eyes.”

Abby held her mug in both hands to warm them, looking sadder than James had ever seen her. “And when Zanna comes back and we tell her how disappointed and outraged and humiliated we feel,” she continued in a rising voice, “she’s not likely to hear that. Not that she’s cruel, understand. But she rarely looks before she leaps.”

James swallowed hard. He reached for another slice of cake, then thought better of it. Best to get things off his chest before anyone else came into the barn. “Abby, I… Now, tell me true, will you? I
trust your judgment,” he said in a faltering voice. “I can’t help wondering if I left something unsaid or undone or—well, Zanna’s quite a bit younger than I am, and maybe I courted her too soon after your dat’s passing.”

“Don’t you
dare
blame yourself, James.” Abby’s expression looked stern despite her pink-rimmed eyes. “Zanna knew exactly who she was hitching up with, and she knew that you could provide her a nice home and a steady income. It’s not like anybody twisted her arm to marry you, James. Not like she’s in danger of being a maidel at the ripe old age of seventeen.”

“Jah, but Mamm and Dat have been wearing on us more this past year,” James pointed out. “And Zanna knew that when Emma married, our parents’ care would be mostly up to her while I worked in the shop.”

“A responsibility—a lesson in love—that we all take on in our families. Just like the care and feeding of kids when they come along,” Abby countered sharply. She sipped her coffee as though she needed fortification to discuss her sister. “Truth be told, this disappearing act has me wondering how fit a wife and mother Zanna would make. You can’t run off when things don’t go the way you planned—and when does that ever happen? While your babies are turning into toddlers and before you can blink, they’re getting into rumspringa.”

Visions of the children he’d dreamed of having with Zanna made James’s mouth go hard. The greenhouse felt chillier now that he wasn’t working.

“Sorry I’m ranting at you this way, James. It wasn’t my intention to upset you more than you already are.”

He sighed. When he went to take another sip of coffee, he wondered how his mug had come to be empty. “I’m grateful to you for the way you’re not blaming me. I… I had no idea this would happen, Abby.”

“None of us did.” She tipped the carafe over his cup again, smiling
glumly. “We gave the distant kin something to talk about on their trips home, didn’t we?”

His eyebrows rose. “We did.” He succumbed to that second slice of warm cake. It didn’t fill his emptiness, but the sweet chunks of apple and chewy nuts gave him something pleasant to savor.

James sensed that Abby was gazing at him with something else on her mind. He’d had about all he could handle, however—even though nothing new had come to light. He just felt better knowing the Lambright family didn’t blame him for yesterday’s fiasco.

“And what will you say to Zanna when she comes back, James? I’m thinking she’s got no place permanent to go, so sooner or later we’ll hear her story. And we’ll have to decide what to do about it.” Her voice had lowered again. It soothed him like when he’d been a little boy scared of the dark and Mamm had caressed his hair, convincing him that monsters didn’t live under his bed.

Those monsters had matured with him and taken on different forms, though, hadn’t they? Right now, embarrassment and betrayal and loneliness loomed large, and he didn’t know how to handle them. “I don’t rightly know what I’ll say to her. Guess I’ll listen, and try to keep my sharp remarks to myself while she explains why she ran off. I love her, Abby,
so
much
,” James confessed in a tight whisper. “I don’t want to think about living without her, after the plans we’ve made, and yet… it’ll take some tall talking before I’ll take her back, too.”

“Anybody could understand that.” Abby’s answer told him she was near tears—not a state he’d seen her in many times. “Zanna has no idea what she’s torn to shreds.”

For a few moments the empty greenhouse sighed with their silent anguish—such a contrast to yesterday morning at this time, when he hadn’t yet known what a turn his wedding day would take.

“I’d better see if Mamm’s going to open her shop, or what all she plans to do with herself today.” Abby scooted off the edge of the table, then focused on brushing their crumbs onto the tray so he wouldn’t see her tears.