Chapter 11
The long kitchen table seemed unusually crowded. Elijah squeezed past his brother Emmett’s chair and plopped into his seat
next to Dad’s at the end. After a day working outside in the cold at Bonnie’s house, his brain wasn’t chugging as fast as
usual. He’d been the last to finish washing up and head into the kitchen for supper. His stomach rumbled at the heavenly scent
of beef gravy and homemade bread. He eyed the large platter of sliced roast beef just within his reach. As soon as his dad
prayed, he’d grab it. He glanced across the room. Kathryn Coblentz, seated between Josie and Sherri, smiled at him.
What was she doing at the Millers’ supper table?
Elijah let his gaze run around the room. No wonder the kitchen was crowded. Mom had added a card table to one end of the table
that seated as many as twelve Miller family members at a time. Kathryn’s three brothers occupied seats on the other side of
Emmett. Menno and Patience Coblentz were also at the main table. Elijah’s younger sisters sat at the card table. They undoubtedly
pretended not to notice that Sadie had Matilda the Cat on her lap. The cat liked to eat whatever the eleven-year-old ate.
Mom and Dad had been going back and forth to the hospital all week, using the time at home to do laundry, check on the children for Caitlin, and sleep in their own bed. Yet with the girls’ help, Mom had managed to invite guests and fix this big spread. No one multitasked like she did.
Kathryn had been a couple of grades behind him in school. She used to hang around the ball field, watching the baseball games,
watching him at bat. She wasn’t one of those girls who liked to play sports. She played a lot of hand-clapping with her friends
or sat on the swing, but mostly she watched the other kids play. Meaning Elijah.
“Elijah, did you say hallo to our guests?”
Before he could answer his mom, Dad cleared his throat.
They prayed silently. Another clearing of the throat and Dad handed him the platter of sliced roast beef. “Did you hear your
mamm?”
“I did.” Elijah stabbed a few slices of beef and dropped them on his plate. He passed the platter and then forced himself
to look at the Coblentzes again. “Hallo.”
The elder Coblentzes nodded and waved from either side of the table farther down.
“Kathyrn started working at our store today.” Mom made the announcement as if it were the hottest news to hit Lee’s Gulch
in a decade. “Tourist season will be here before we know it.”
Elijah concentrated on dumping mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“I saw some of your handiwork too.” Kathryn had a chirpy voice reminiscent of a happy robin. “Your toys are really cute. And
the children’s furniture is adorable. Englischers will like both, for sure and for certain.”
Had she been in his workshop? In the middle of doing laundry, fixing meals, and checking on the store, Mom had had time to take Kathryn to his workshop? Elijah hazarded a glance in her direction. She was a sturdy girl with light-brown hair and eyes to match. At the moment her cheeks were red. She looked as awkward as he felt. When would Mom give up on the matchmaking? Never. Not until all nine of her children were married and giving her a barn full of grandkids. “Where?”
“In the store. Your mamm wants me to be familiar with all the inventory.”
“My toys are in our store?” Elijah dropped his napkin in his lap and laid his fork down. “What’s that about, Mamm?”
“I figured since you’re not selling them at Homespun Handicrafts, we should put them on the shelf here.” His mother slid into
a chair next to Patience. “At least you can recoup what you spent on supplies, if not your time, for the stuff you’ve already
made.”
Bonnie’s disappointed tone echoed in Elijah’s head. And those last words... what did they mean? “See you at the store. I hope.”
A challenge? Of course he did. He wanted to sell at Homespun Handicrafts for several reasons, but he also wanted to do the
right thing. “So you went into my workshop and helped yourself to my work?”
“What was there, which wasn’t much.” Mom helped herself to a roll. She picked up a knife and scooped up some butter. She’d
bypassed the part where she addressed his unspoken concern over not having asked him first. As his mother, she likely didn’t
feel she should have to. Dad might be the property owner, but Mom kept the household organized, the store running smoothly,
and still managed to plant and reap a vast vegetable garden. She was in charge most every other way. “You’ll have to get back
what you left at the shop.”
“What makes you think I won’t be able to sell them at Homespun Handicrafts?”
Squinting, Mom peered at him as if he’d suddenly transported himself to a spot three farms away. “If you’re on the auction circuit, you won’t be making new pieces. You won’t be able to fill the shop’s orders.”
The homemade bread had turned to cardboard in Elijah’s mouth. He chewed and strained to swallow it. “I won’t be on the circuit
forever. Just until Jason gets back.”
A shadow danced across Mom’s face. Suddenly, she seemed old and tired. “Jason will be fine. But this is an opportunity for
you to help out with the family business and contribute to the family store. Tourists who visit our store will love the toys.”
As much as they would at Homespun Handicrafts. The remainder of her sentence hung in the air. Only the people who came to
her store usually bought produce and fresh canned vegetables from the Millers’ garden. It wasn’t a gift store. English folks
from the area who didn’t want to go into town shopped there. “We’ll see.”
“Declan told Bethel who told Layla who told me that you’ve been practicing.” Josie jabbed her fork in the air. “And I told
Mamm. He said you’re doing gut. He said you shouldn’t freeze up again and run off the stage like you did in Richmond.”
“Jah, and why would you do that if you’re not going to call?” Sherri chimed in.
“Jah, why?” Sadie might not understand the nuances of every conversation, but she always participated. Matilda the Cat meowed.
So did she. “Why, Bruder?”
Elijah’s hand froze, fork halfway to his mouth. His gut lurched. Heat seared his cheeks and neck. Those practice sessions
weren’t a secret necessarily, but Declan knew Elijah didn’t want Dad getting a whiff of them until they were sure he could
actually do it.
Declan couldn’t be blamed for telling his wife. Husbands told wives everything. At least Elijah assumed they did. But plunk a bunch of Plain women in a kitchen together fixing lunch after church and all nuggets of news were fair game. Likely they were commiserating about the fiasco in Richmond and Bethel felt the need to reassure Layla that Elijah wasn’t a lost cause. Declan to the rescue.
“Now, Dochders, no sense in bringing up Richmond.” Mom flapped her napkin in front of her face like a fan. “That won’t happen
again. Elijah likely had a touch of the flu that day.”
More like a touch of the nerves. Mom’s fixed smile reflected her determination to convince the Coblentzes—mainly Kathryn—that
Elijah wasn’t a nervous Nellie or, worse, a coward.
“I’m not bringing those pieces back. I plan to become a vendor at the store.” Elijah pushed his still half-full plate away.
“I’ve signed a contract. I’m committed to starting my own business, just like I told Dat before.”
“We don’t need to talk business at the table.” Dad picked up a bowl of green beans and helped himself. His gaze steely, he
handed it to Elijah. “It’s bad for the digestion. Especially when we have company. Eat your vegetables, Suh. Menno, how’s
the hog business?”
Menno took the opening and ran with it. The conversation turned to hogs, mud sales, summer vacation plans, and frolics.
“Eat your vegetables.” Like a good boy. Like a good son. Dad hadn’t meant it that way, but the Coblentzes couldn’t know or understand that. Elijah handed the beans to Emmett. He’d
eaten plenty of vegetables.
The rest of the meal passed slower than August at the end of a long hot summer. The one time Elijah glanced up, Kathryn was
staring at him. She immediately looked away. Finally, Mom served strawberry-rhubarb pie with whipped cream. Elijah polished
off his in four bites. It tasted of nothing, of empty air.
Getting out of the kitchen wouldn’t be easy. He stood, sucked in his gut, squeezed through the narrow aisle between the chairs and the wall, and plunged out the other end. A few more strides and he was out the back door. Slowpoke popped up from his usual spot on an old rug reserved for his naps whenever Elijah was inside. Mom didn’t cotton to the idea of having dogs in her house.
Which was fine with Slowpoke. He didn’t cotton to the idea that Mom didn’t like dogs. Especially considering Matilda the Cat
was allowed in. Made no sense whatsoever. He barked and trotted down the steps as if ready for whatever came next. “Whatever”
not being anything here. “Just give me a minute.”
Slowpoke huffed and sat, his ears perked.
“It’s nothing. I just needed to breathe.” Elijah inhaled the dusk’s cold air. A gust of wind whistled through the live oak
tree branches over his head. He raised his face to it, letting it cool his nervous heat.
“What was that all about?”
He swiveled. Dad pushed through the screen door and let it slam behind him.
Elijah turned back to the back porch railing. His hands tightened around the painted wood. “Nothing. I just needed some air.”
Slowpoke whined deep in his throat. He settled down, head on his paws, with an exaggerated air of long-suffering.
You and me both, buddy, you and me both.
“Don’t go too far. I want to talk about your plan.” The way Dad emphasized plan suggested he didn’t think much of it.
“I’m just stretching my legs.”
Dad grunted and went back in the house.
Stretching came in the form of walking himself back to his workshop. In the aftermath of the noisy supper scene, made noisier by six guests, the space welcomed Elijah with the open arms of quiet. He and his brothers built the 100-by-150-square-foot building with reclaimed wood he bought at an auction four years earlier. The pitched roof was covered with solar panels with the exception of the two large skylights. What he’d given up in shelf space, he’d gained in natural light by covering two walls with large windows. Most days he didn’t need artificial lighting. He could open the windows to allow breezes to cool the workspace in the summer.
To make up for the loss of wall space normally used to hang tools, they’d built a counter along an entire wall with a series
of drawers underneath where he could store his hand tools. In the center, facing the east, he positioned the workbench he’d
built from scratch. He even bought a used bunk bed and set it up in one corner. If it got late and he was tired, he could
slip off to sleep in his favorite place. If he simply had had enough of people, he could do the same thing.
Of course, Slowpoke thought the bed was for him, which was why he headed straight to it as soon as Elijah let him in. He curled
up on the faded Lone Star Cabin quilt and sighed in obvious pleasure.
“Bum.” Elijah went to the workbench and picked up a piece of sandpaper. He could use the buffer, but sanding by hand soothed
him. He settled onto his stool and went to work on the pieces of walnut that would eventually become another small rocking
chair.
“Home sweet home,” he whispered.
Slowpoke snored in response.
Elijah chuckled. How could life go from crazy hard to sweetly calm from one minute to the next? If he could live in this moment,
not peeking over his shoulder at the past, not digging himself into a hole in the future, life would be good. The scents of
raw wood, varnish, and mechanical oil mingled in the best perfume in the world. It was surprising no one had bottled it.
His mind hummed with silly and sillier thoughts. Declan would find a joke in there somehow, someway. Declan needed a course correction. Telling Bethel about the auction lessons. And Bethel telling Layla. That was like telling a gossip columnist. Or a town caller like they had in olden days.
His mind traipsed around and around in circles, avoiding the one topic he needed to address. Homespun Handicrafts. Tomorrow.
Bonnie. Vendor. Maybe if he worked early morning until late at night, when he was home, he could get a good start. The smaller,
simple items took only a few hours. A table and four chairs, longer.
“May I come in?”
Poof. The calm dissipated. The chirpy sounds didn’t belong to a robin. They belonged to Kathryn. His stomach clenched. Neck hot,
Elijah leaned into the steady swipe, swipe of sandpaper against wood. “Jah. Sure.”
“My mamm and dat are still yakking with yours.” She stepped inside the door and lingered on the well-worn welcome rug. “We
finished cleaning up. Josie had some paperwork to do at the office, so I decided to take a walk.”
“Uh-huh.”
Kathryn sashayed along the counter, running her fingers along the edge like she was checking for dust. Despite Elijah’s solar-powered
vacuuming system, there was plenty of that. “I didn’t know that you didn’t know your toys were in the store. I assumed—”
“Don’t worry about it. I would’ve thought the same thing.” Kathryn was not at fault. His matchmaking mom was. Elijah stood.
He lined up the pieces of wood one by one. Orderly. Ready to become a chair that a child would love. So much easier than talking
to a woman he barely knew. He cleared his throat. “Mamm has a reputation as a matchmaker, especially for her own kinner.”
Kathryn’s forehead wrinkled. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Are you saying she didn’t hire me because she thought I would be gut at working in the store?”
Red spots glowing on her fair cheeks, she whirled and trotted toward the door. “Mamm and Dat are probably ready to go.”
“Wait. Sei so gut.” Elijah strode around the workbench. Kathryn paused at the door, one hand on its frame. Elijah halted still
several feet away. They shouldn’t be having this conversation, all alone, in his workshop. But what Mom had started he had
to finish, for this poor woman’s sake. Not fair, Mamm. “She did hire you because you are a gut fit. She wouldn’t hire someone who isn’t.”
“But?”
“But sometimes she gets carried away with her schemes.” Elijah crossed his arms. He studied the sawdust on his boots. He forced
himself to meet her gaze. “She just wants her kinner to be happy. It doesn’t occur to her that I might be able to sort that
out on my own.”
“And she thinks...” Kathryn pointed at Elijah, then at herself. The scarlet on her cheeks spread across her face and down
her neck. “And you think...?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see.” It was her turn to cross her arms and study her sneakers. “Margie Joens asked me to work at her day care. I might
be better at that job. At least until you do know.”
“Es dutt mer.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Which is why Mamm did what she did.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you should sell your toys at the gift shop.” Kathryn cocked her head toward the rocking horse
sitting on the counter. “A person only has to see your work to know it’s your calling. Not the other auctioneer kind.”
People on the outside of a situation oftentimes could see the circumstances better than the ones up to their eyeballs in the miry clay of dissension. Kathryn was wise beyond her years. She would make some man a good wife.
But not Elijah. His thoughts couldn’t be so occupied with Bonnie otherwise. Kathryn seemed nice, but he didn’t give her a
second thought upon saying hello to her at church or a frolic. He didn’t wonder what it would feel like to hold her hand or
touch her cheek’s soft skin. He didn’t think about her before he closed his eyes at night or opened them in the morning.
He didn’t hope to see her again. Soon.
Kathryn had been gone only a few minutes when Mom stomped into the workshop. She marched up to his workbench, stopped, planted
her feet, and stuck her hands on her hips. “Seriously, Elijah. That has to be a world record. You almost drove off a store
employee after one day. One day!”
“What do you mean, almost ?”
“I talked Kathryn into staying on. It took all my powers of persuasion, but she finally agreed. Why would you want to drive
off such a kind, sweet, hardworking girl?”
Mom’s powers of persuasion were legendary. “I didn’t want to drive anyone off. You embarrassed me. You embarrassed her.” Elijah rubbed his temples. “I know
you think you brought Toby and Rachelle together. And Layla and Micah. And Declan and Bethel. But you didn’t—”
“I don’t think that. Gott brought them together according to His plan.” She raised her chin. “I just nudged things along a
bit.”
“I don’t need anybody nudged.”
“Kathryn is a nice maedel. She’ll make a gut fraa.”
“She’s not...” Elijah stopped. He clamped his mouth shut. This conversation was over. Parents weren’t supposed to meddle in their children’s pursuit of a husband or wife. That his rumspringa hadn’t produced a wife was his own business.
Elijah picked up the sandpaper, then laid it down. No point in taking his frustration out on a poor piece of wood. “I need
to work. We’re leaving for Charm on Wednesday. I want to finish a few pieces tonight so I can take them into town tomorrow.”
“She’s not what?” Mom was a hunter who’d spied her prey. “Or who is she not? That’s it. She’s not who?”
“Mamm.”
“Hmm. Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Mom stalked around the bench. She patted Elijah’s shoulder. “Don’t stay out here too late. And don’t
sleep here. You want to be well rested when you go into town to do business.”
To do business. “Mamm, sei so gut.”
She paused at the door, much in the same way Kathryn had. “If you decide to never call an auction, your dat will get over
it. He’ll understand.”
Not so a person noticed. “Gut nacht.”
“I won’t nudge Kathryn toward you again. I promise.”
Elijah almost said thank you. The glint in her eyes stopped him. Mom had moved on to new prey.