The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (40 page)

“How long have you been home?” she asked, focusing on two pigeons fighting over a piece of popcorn.

“Almost a week now. My
dawdi
had plenty of chores for me when I got back. I thought I’d never get caught up.” He gently squeezed her shoulders and then released her. “Didn’t you get my letters?” he asked with a curious expression. “I was hoping you would have written back. I was mighty lonesome in Wisconsin. All my old friends have gotten hitched and forgotten about me.”

The squabbling birds no longer held her interest. “You wrote to me, Jonah? I never received any letters.”

“Twice. I sent them to Leah Miller, Route 585, Winesburg, Ohio.” He turned on the steps to face her. One lock of dark hair fell forward into his eyes.

Leah felt the seed of hope take root. “I know it’s confusing, but everyone on our end of the township road has Wilmot addresses, and considering how many Millers there are in the county, I’m not surprised they never found me.”

“That explains why you didn’t get my letters, and I suppose why you didn’t write.”

Her cheeks flushed to bright pink. “Your
mamm
gave me your address and I wrote three different times.” She glanced up to catch his expression of confusion. “But I never mailed any of them. I chickened out.” She shifted her focus to the steps where the pigeons had eaten the popcorn and now pecked at seedpods.

Jonah released a perfect imitation of a clucking hen.

She rolled her eyes. “I deserved that, but I was afraid to tell you how badly things had spun out of control. I should’ve confronted April sooner.”

He covered her small hand with his. “It might not have changed a thing. Let’s forget about the past. It’s finally over for you.”

His touch warmed her to her toes. “I was so happy to see you in the courtroom. Did you come to hear the testimony—to find out if what folk said was true?” She glanced at his handsome face.

“Nope. I didn’t hitch up my buggy and leave before dawn to hear what Mrs. Lambright had to say. And I have no need for gossip to know what’s going on. I know
you,
Leah Miller, and you would no more cheat somebody or the State of Ohio than you’d take up bareback barrel-racing.” He tightened his grip on her hand.

She pondered that mental picture and grinned. But when she opened her mouth to reply, no words came out. A knot had formed in her throat as her emotions boiled to the surface.

“How about if I drive you home? Then you can tell me your plans as you don’t have a job anymore. Maybe you could open another diner. I think I spotted a rundown, abandoned gristmill on my way into town. At least three sides are still standing.”

Leah stood and pulled Jonah to his feet. “Let’s go tell Mrs. Lee and Emma they can start for home since I’ve got a ride. But we are not looking at any gristmills on the way back—even if I have to put on a pair of blinders.”

“I am so glad that ordeal is over!” said Emma, watching the passing scenery. “Now my little sister can get a decent night’s sleep.”

The drive back to Charm from Millersburg took the three Davises through some of the prettiest countryside in the state. Everywhere you looked Amish farmers were preparing their fields for a long winter rest. The upright tied bundles of cornstalks reminded her of her
daed’s
old-fashioned ways.

“You have no idea how that gal tossed and turned and punched her pillow,” Emma continued. “I couldn’t sleep a wink those three nights at
mamm’s.”
She had stopped referring to her parents’ farm as home. She was part of her husband’s family now.

“Maybe she couldn’t sleep from all your snoring, dear one,” James said, not taking his eyes off the twisty road.

Emma angled a glare. “Don’t make up tall tales in front of your brother. We both know I don’t snore.”

James patted her knee. “Well, I think you’ll sleep good tonight.” He leaned forward to wink at Kevin.

She looked from one brother to the other. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go straight home. All that courtroom drama has worn me out. I’d love to rest before making dinner.”

James laughed. “Straight home is where we’re headed, but catching a nap in the sunroom is out of the question.”

Emma turned suspicious. “What are you two cooking up?”

“Words would only spoil the surprise,
fraa.
Wait and see. I’ll not say another word.” When he set his jaw with that determined pose, she knew she wouldn’t get another word on the subject.

Fortunately, Emma didn’t have long to ponder the mystery. And words couldn’t describe the scene they encountered as they drove up Hollyhock Lane. Three flatbed lumber trucks, in various stages of being unloaded, sat along the gravel road leading to James and Emma’s plot of land. Cars, pickup trucks, and at least forty buggies were lined up in the recently mown meadow. A billowing white tent had been set up with tables and chairs, just like the one used for barn raisings. And people seemed to be everywhere—carrying stacks of lumber, ladders, scaffolds, buckets of tools, containers of water, or plates of food. Kevin pulled the truck to the side to view the panorama. A beehive in spring was no more frenetic with activity.

In her heart, Emma knew what she was seeing but was too bashful to believe her eyes. “What’s going on, James Davis?”

“I thought you wanted me all to yourself. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just tell these folk to go on home.” He opened the truck door and stepped out for a better view.

She scrambled out right on his heels. “These people are here to build our new house?” she squeaked.

“Every single one of them. And I sure hope they know what they’re doing. I’d hate to end up with stairways going nowhere or doors that open up into solid walls.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Emma punched his arm playfully. “Oh, Jamie! Why didn’t you tell me about today? I could’ve helped your
mamm
get ready. I’ll bet she’s been cooking up a storm.”

James brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “That would have ruined the whole concept of surprise.”

She peered up at him. “But on the same day as Leah’s hearing? We could’ve been stuck in that courtroom all afternoon.”

“That was the tricky part. The pastor organized our district to come out today and tomorrow. Some folk took vacation days. Dad and I compiled lists of material and scheduled deliveries for early morning. The farm foreman divided the men into work teams, and I hired a group of professional carpenters to run the show. All that would have been hard to change after you mentioned your sister’s hearing, so I hoped and prayed for the best. The foundation and basement were put in weeks ago so they would set up in time. I can’t believe you hadn’t noticed when you took one of your afternoon walks.”

Emma remembered the night she’d fallen asleep in the pinewoods, was rained on, and run into Jamie in the barn. She shuddered inwardly for the self-righteous way she had behaved. “I haven’t taken that path in a while. I confined my walks to the river and back.”

“You’ll soon be able to see your favorite forest from our back porch.” He encircled her waist with both arms and hugged. “Are you happy, Mrs. Davis? Or should I tell everybody to pack up and go home and we’ll just live with Mom and Dad forever?”

She turned within his embrace. “You are impossible! I hope your
mamm
knows how much I appreciate…” Emma’s voice broke with emotion. The past years spent in the Davis household with Jamie’s family had been loving and kind. She didn’t deserve what was happening before her eyes.

James kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her lips. “She knows, Em, and she loves you too. But the time has come for this Davis family to be on their own.”

Kevin crept up to stand beside them and for a minute, the three just watched the work happening down below. “I hate to break up this lovey-dovey scene, but you can’t wait up here until the house is finished. Let’s go, you two. There’s plenty to be done if we want the roof on and windows in before the first snow.” He grabbed Emma’s sleeve and James’ arm and pulled them back to the truck.

Emma went eagerly. She couldn’t wait to greet her friends and neighbors who had taken time off to build them a house. She couldn’t wait to help feed the hungry workers who were laboring on their behalf. And she couldn’t wait to move into the little house high on the ridge near her beloved pine forest.

God had shone His mercy on Leah today, and He still had some left over for her too. The Miller girls were blessed after all. And she would never forget this day or cease being grateful for the rest of her life.

December, second Sunday of Advent

M
atthew loved December. Workloads grew lighter as hours of daylight waned. He enjoyed walking in fields touched with frost on crisp mornings. Before long the deep cold would set in, covering the world in a thick layer of white. With the preaching service at the Miller home today, he’d risen early to set out the long benches in the barn and build a fire in Emma’s old woodstove. Hymnals still needed to be passed out and tables put up for lunch, but for a few moments he looked over the rolling hills of Holmes County. Nothing could compare with the peace and silence of a Sunday morning in winter.

He, Henry, and Leah had helped
mamm
clean house all week. If any ladies chose to drag a gloved finger along their windowsills, they would find no dust for their efforts. Not that any of them would do such a thing. Matthew thought women fretted too much over inconsequential things like dust, streaky windows, or whether the raisins in the oatmeal cookies hardened during baking—Leah’s pet peeve that morning.

A man tended to worry about the important things in life—whether he was living in a way pleasing to God, to his family, and to his community; whether he enjoyed his work and if it could sustain him for a lifetime; and if he had somebody who could tolerate him enough to share that life. Matthew felt fairly confident about the first two, but he had made no progress on the third since Martha Hostetler accepted a ride home with John Yoder.
Were they courting? Had he proposed?
Matt didn’t know and was too shy to ask Rachel or Leah. He’d also been too shy to return to district social events. What was the point? No gal wanted a beau with red hair and an untamable cowlick, whose own sister had called a barbarian. Perhaps it was his fate to be admired by females solely of the equine persuasion. Mares and fillies didn’t seem to mind his lack of conversation skills or the way he wolfed down a meal.

As the first buggy rumbled up their driveway, he scrambled to finish preparations and then hurried into the house to don his Sunday clothes. Without much inclination to greet neighbors as they arrived, and with a strong desire not to see any of the Hostetlers, Matthew waited until the church service was ready to start before slipping into the last row. But try as he might, he couldn’t keep the sweet face of Martha off his mind.

“Pay attention,” warned Henry. “The service has begun and you seem to be a million miles away.” He jabbed his elbow into his
bruder’
s side.

Matthew shook off his daydream and concentrated on the first Scripture reading and then the hymns, followed by the initial sermon delivered by his
daed.
He willed himself not to look in the direction of Mrs. Hostetler or her daughter Rachel. Because he knew if he craned his head left or right, Martha would be somewhere in the vicinity. And seeing her soft green eyes and peaches-and-cream complexion wasn’t something he needed today. His heart ached enough the way it was.

The three-hour service seemed longer than six hours that morning, but finally it was over. Matthew fled the barn without stopping to talk to his friends. He hadn’t seen some of his pals since finishing the contract work in Sugar Creek, but catching up would have to wait for when there was no chance of running into the girl who had broken his heart. He headed straight for the horse pens, where the new acquisitions were still separated from the main stock. He had time to kill before the women brought out lunch to the long tables. And he would just as soon spend that time right there.