Chapter 14
Moses leaned against the railing, surveying the cattle in the small pasture.
Some seemed to be improving, showing more energy, grazing like the healthy ones did.
Dawdie used to say that a good farmer was an observant farmer—he knew how to look for discomfort in his animals before they started to truly suffer.
An ulcer in a hoof could look like a mild limp before it took over and became a big problem.
A gut issue could look like abdominal swelling before it took the animal down.
While they worked the herd, his grandfather would insist that Moses observe the animals and report back even the slightest changes.
“Gott gave us animals to care for, and we must do it as if working for the Almighty himself,” Dawdie would say. “‘And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.’”
Even after the gate incident when he’d left a job undone, Moses hadn’t made that mistake again.
And being observant was a lesson Moses had brought home when working on his daet’s herd too.
He’d caught some early signs of a breech birth with one cow and the early signs of a hernia in a steer.
Dawdie had wanted to make good farmers out of his grandsons, and Moses believed that his grandfather had succeeded in that.
Were they not good enough for Dawdie’s own herd, though?
What had made him look at Moses and decide that he didn’t deserve this farm?
Right now, it wasn’t just the disappointment of the lost land so much as the feeling of his grandfather’s judgment from beyond the grave.
Dawdie had weighed him and found him wanting.
“Moses?” Tabitha called.
He turned to see the Amish veterinarian coming toward him across the field.
She was slim, a bit older than him, but still a pretty woman.
She lifted her long skirt to allow herself to take longer strides.
She didn’t use the split skirt that Miri did, but she moved with a similar confidence.
Maybe that confidence ran in the family—women who knew what they were doing and didn’t try to hide it.
“Hi, Tabitha,” he said when she reached his side. “How is Bitsy?”
“We’ll see,” she replied. “Hopefully she’ll pull through. Miri is really attached to her.”
Yah, he knew that. But she now had a whole herd to care for, and playing favorites wasn’t good either. Still, he knew how special this heifer was to Miri.
“How are the other cattle?” she asked.
“These seem to be improving,” he said. “But you’d know better.”
“Actually, the farmer would know better,” Tabitha countered. “You’ve been working with these animals for a while now?”
“Yah, ever since I was about fourteen, and more so the last while since Dawdie started to weaken.”
“So I’ll trust your instinct,” Tabitha said, and she leaned against the fence, scanning the animals in silence for a few beats. “That one by the fence over there?” She pointed to a cow that was slowly chewing her cud.
“Yesterday she was lying down a lot,” he said. “Today she’s on her feet.”
“Good sign,” she said, then she looked over at Moses, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about your grandfather. I know you were close.”
“Danke.”
“And I’m sorry about the will too.”
“The land went to your family.” He hadn’t really meant for the bitter words to come out, but Tabitha didn’t look offended.
“I’m sorry all the same,” she said. “It was a shock. No one expected that. But I know a thing or two about needing to change plans when you thought things were going to turn out one way, and then . . . didn’t.”
Moses wasn’t sure what to say. Was it polite to mention her painful divorce or her cheating husband now that the man was dead? But she was right—she was someone who could understand altered plans all too well.
“I never thought I’d come home to Shepherd’s Hill again,” Tabitha said.
“When my life blew up in my face, it shocked me, but it didn’t shock Gott.
Do you know what I mean? Your grandfather’s will took you by surprise, and you have to pivot when you had everything planned out, no doubt.
But Gott wasn’t surprised by this. Gott’s plan included this, and it moves beyond it. Trust in that.”
It was a surprisingly thoughtful bit of advice, and Moses nodded. “Danke. I will try.”
“You’ll be okay,” Tabitha said. She turned back in the direction of the house, then added over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few days to see how things are going. Leave a message on my phone service if you need me to come back sooner.”
He waved, and she marched off again, her skirt tugged a little higher to let her walk more briskly. Moses turned away from the fence and toward the stable. He’d hitch up the wagon and go check on the healthy animals. Hopefully they stayed healthy and didn’t catch the virus.
An hour later, Moses headed back to the cattle barn, and when he opened the door, he squinted in the dim light.
He didn’t see Miri at first, but he did see the open stall door, and when he headed down the center aisle, he spotted her sitting on a low stool next to the open door.
She turned and gave him a wan smile, then turned back to the heifer again.
“I should go and check the rest of the herd,” Miri said when he reached the stall.
“I did it already,” he replied. “The sick ones seem to be improving a little, and the healthy part of the herd is staying that way.”
Miri looked undecided for a moment, then nodded. “Danke for checking. I have other responsibilities than Bitsy, and I know that.”
“It takes more than one person to run a farm successfully,” Moses replied. “This is a good example of that.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice,” she said.
Didn’t she, though? She had family. And right now, she had him.
“While I’m here, Miri, you can count on me,” Moses said. “I will do the job to the best of my abilities, and I won’t let you down. I don’t know how you’ll organize things later, but you have some time to figure that out.”
Working as for the Lord. Wasn’t that Dawdie’s advice? That was how a good Amish man worked, and an Amish woman should be able to count on that, even in complicated times. Gott’s plans could not possibly include a man shirking his duties.
Miri looked up at him mutely.
“For what it’s worth,” he added.
“Are you still angry with me?” Miri asked.
“Nee.” He leaned against the rail and looked down at the cow. The IV had been removed, and a little blood-stained spot showed where it had been inserted in her jugular vein. “I’m a bit angry with my dawdie, though.”
“He should have explained his reasoning,” Miri said. “For all of us.”
“Yah, he should have. He might have thought he did. He left a note for my brother and me saying this was for the best.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Your dawdie was kind and decent,” Miri said. “But he had his own peculiar ways too.”
“True enough.” He spotted another stool by the wall and fetched it, setting it up next to Miri’s.
“You don’t have to sit here if you’d rather do something else,” Miri said.
“It’s okay,” Moses said. “We’ve got the chores done, and I’ve checked the cattle. Might as well make sure Bitsy is okay. You aren’t going to feel better until you’re sure.”
“Not much of a farmer, am I?” she asked. “Obsessed over one heifer.”
“She’s basically a pet.”
Miri smiled faintly. “So you understand.”
“There is a barn cat that I’m especially fond of.”
“Tom would have said to prioritize the whole herd,” Miri said. “He’d be frustrated with me for doing this.”
“Dawdie had a pet rooster that he let into the house when I was a little boy, and he’d feed it table scraps after a meal. It used to drive my mammi up the wall.” Moses grinned.
“I didn’t know that.”
“So, yah, he probably would have gotten frustrated with you over Bitsy, but Mammi got frustrated with him plenty too.”
She chuckled, then sobered. “What will you do now, Moses?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’ll keep working my daet’s farm while I think it through.
But I think that my brother and I might be able to incorporate some tourism income into our daet’s farm, if he’ll agree to it.
The thing is, now that Benuel is married, he wants to build a separate house.
They are in the dawdie hus now that is attached to the main house.
The walls are thin, and I know he’d like more privacy with his wife. ”
It was awkward when he’d come across Benuel kissing Sadie out behind the chicken coop or the two of them holding hands somewhere, talking in low tones together.
A husband and wife should love each other just like that, and he was happy for his brother, but it was a constant reminder of the romance missing from Moses’s own life, and it embarrassed him to see such private moments that he wasn’t supposed to stumble across.
“When your siblings get married, it changes things,” she agreed. “My three sisters got married and moved away, and we all had to adjust. But we are getting used to them being gone.”
“Yah.” He cast her a smile. “For us, it’s my brother’s married home being right next to us. If it ends up being a little too crowded at my father’s farm, I’ve heard that Ohio has more opportunities for cabinet making, and I’m not bad with carpentry.”
“And there is that matchmaker in Sugarcreek,” she said. “Everyone is raving about her. Her name is Nellie Stoltzfuz.”
Hadn’t Jonas gone off to Sugarcreek for a while? But he was back again. Moses’s mamm had told him that much.
“Really?” he asked with a teasing nudge against her elbow. “You’re going to try and match me up with some unsuspecting woman? I could suggest you talk to a matchmaker too. You’re as single as I am.”
“But I’m not getting married. I keep telling you that.”
Moses wasn’t sure what to say to that. People sometimes said behind her back that Miri wasn’t ever going to find a husband.
She was just too much of a tomboy for men to consider her as wife material.
And they weren’t wrong about her being both stubborn as a bull and a tomboy to boot, but she was still a woman.
Moses could see that clear enough. Maybe there’d be some farmer who’d warm up to Miri, appreciate her skill on a farm, and make a wife of her.
Bitsy started to shift her weight, and she heaved herself up—getting her back legs under her, then her front.
“Aha!” Miri said. “She’s feeling better.”
The heifer did look more energetic now. She pushed her nose toward her water bucket and took a drink. Then she lifted her tail and evacuated a stream of sharp-smelling urine.
“There we go!” Miri said triumphantly. “She’s going to be all right. Aren’t you, Bitsy?”
Miri’s smile made her eyes sparkle, and when she turned toward him, he was left breathless at the sight. When Miri was truly, unabashedly joyful, she was absolutely stunning.
“I’m glad she’ll be okay,” Moses said, dropping his gaze, unsure of where to look. It was like seeing Benuel and Sadie holding hands—some private glow that felt almost intimate.
“Are you hungry?” Miri asked.
It was probably lunchtime by now, and he was reminded of the fact by a rumble in his stomach. “Yah, I could eat.”
“Me too,” she said, picking up her stool and exiting the stall. He followed her lead, then shut the stall door after him. “Let’s go back and get something to eat. I could go for some dippy eggs with sausage on the side.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Miri cast one more tender look toward her cow, then gave a nod. “After lunch, there is a calf I want tagged, but it’ll be easier to do with you there to distract the mamm.”
Right—back to work. But somehow, he couldn’t get the image of that brilliant, glittering smile out of his head. He’d never seen Miri look quite like that before, and he had to wonder . . . how could he get her to smile like that again?