Prologue #2
“I don’t think that’s the truth, or very fair of you to say,” Mervin said.
“It might be hard to hear, but that don’t mean it’s not the truth,” Aaron replied.
“Well, we can’t move. This is our home now.”
“And, we’ll get the hang of things,” Ruthie added. “I think you are making too much of our small mistakes. I haven’t killed a chicken yet.”
“Well, you see, that’s one of the things that we’ve been talking about. I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to eat one of those chickens, Mamm,” Bethany said. “And I know you like eggs, but you’ve got a lot of them. Like a lot. And while we’re at it, Velvet isn’t a happy cow.”
Even though she agreed, Ruthie felt defensive. “She is fine. She’s just not sure how to handle her new owners.”
“And you are not sure how to handle her,” Bethany said.
“I don’t know if that’s the case,” she protested.
Aaron cleared his throat. “Also, Daed …”
“Yes?”
“I was thinking that those fields you’ve set aside for planting are big. Plowing them with a team of four horses is going to be difficult for ya.”
“It might be a challenge, but I’m going to learn.”
But Ruthie noticed that her dear husband wasn’t looking at any of them in the eye.
She knew why, too. Mervin was becoming embarrassed, which broke her heart.
She was getting mighty irritated with their children.
Why in the world they thought that they had a right to come over unannounced and criticize their farming efforts, she had no idea.
“Aaron, Bethy, what is the point of all this? Did you two decide to come over just to list off all the things we’re struggling with? ”
“Nee. Not at all.” Aaron took a sip of coffee. “Guys, do you remember Kyle Hostetler?”
It took Ruthie a second to recall the name from the past. “Kyle from down the street in Millersburg?”
“Jah.” Mervin nodded. “He was a nice boy.”
“Well, he’s been going through some things,” Aaron said. “His girlfriend broke up with him, and his parents sold off most of their farm. They said they couldn’t keep up with it any longer.”
Ruthie was sorry to hear that. “That is very sad.”
“It is, Mamm, because Kyle had always planned to farm that land when he got older. Now he’s out of a job.”
“Does he want to work at Kinsingers’?” Mervin asked. “I can put in a good word for him.”
“Nee, Daed. He’s always wanted to farm. He’s been helping out on a couple of farms in his area. They call on him when they need an extra hand,” Bethany said.
“But it’s not what he wants or needs,” Aaron added.
“Kyle needs a place to stay and a steady job. Plus, his sister Sarah has some medical issues with her hearing. He needs to help pay those bills.” Folding his arms across his chest, Aaron added, “He’s willing to live in the dawdi haus and work for you two. ”
Mervin folded his arms across his chest. “You invited this boy to live with us?”
“I did. Come on. He ain’t a boy and he ain’t a stranger. It’s Kyle. And he’s great. He’s been farming all his life. He could help you both a lot. Plus, he really is in a tough bind.”
“Still. How much does he expect me to pay him?”
“We mentioned some numbers, but it’s not a ton, Daed. He really just needs a year to figure things out and get over the breakup.”
“I wonder what happened between him and his girl. Do you know?”
Looking miserable, Aaron nodded. “She cheated on him.” After a pause, he added, “Kyle discovered her with one of his friends.”
“What? Well, that’s … that’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it is,” Bethany said. “I can’t believe a nice Amish girl would treat her boyfriend so shabbily.”
“I canna believe any girl would do that,” she corrected. “Amish or otherwise.”
“Exactly. So, what do you think? Instead of getting someone to come over for a morning, Kyle can help you plow the fields.”
Everything Aaron was saying made Ruthie want cry tears of relief and joy. Kyle sounded like a godsend. “I suppose we could feed him. I always make plenty for food. More than enough for two.”
“I thought maybe you could have him over a couple of times a week. At least until he gets that ugly dawdi haus kitchen cleaned up and working.”
It was an awful kitchen. “I could help him clean it. I should’ve already done that.” And she would’ve … if everything else hadn’t been so overwhelming.
Aaron looked at them both. “Mamm, Daed, the weather in January is going to be tough, and February will likely be worse. It’s going to be cold and miserable here. You two are used to having lots of people in walking distance in case you need help. All you two have are the Lapps next door.”
“They are very nice,” Mervin blurted. “They’ve said more than once we could ask them for help.”
“Have you asked them, though?” Bethany asked.
“Of course not. But we could start,” Mervin said. “Why I even heard that their daughter knows a lot about farming.” He looked at Ruthie. “What was her name again?”
“Daisy. Daisy Lapp.”
“I’ll ask Daisy for help.”
“Will you, really?” Ruthie asked. “Last time I suggested we call her, you said you didn’t want to ask a woman to do a man’s job.”
“I won’t worry about that anymore. If I really need her, I’ll reach out.”
“That’s not a gut plan Daed,” Aaron said. “Daisy might help you, but she might not. People in the area are saying that she’s in a snit because she was saving to buy this farm.”
“I am sorry that our retirement burst her bubble, but that ain’t our fault,” Ruthie said. “It was up for sale and we bought it.”
“I agree. I guess Mr. Burkholder told her a bunch of lies and promises over the last year when he needed her help. When he sold the farm right out from under her, she took it hard.”
Mervin frowned. “That’s a shame, to be sure, but maybe it’s all for the best.”
“Why would you say that?” Bethany asked.
“No Amish woman in her mid-twenties is capable of running a big farm like this,” Mervin said. “She might be able to milk a cow and take care of chickens, but probably nothing more than that.” He laughed. “I mean, have you ever heard of something so ridiculous?”
To Ruthie’s chagrin, her children exchanged meaningful glances.
After the slightest of pauses, Bethany murmured, “As a matter of fact, yes. I have.”
Feeling her cheeks heat, Ruthie speared another bite of pie. She’d never say it out loud, but her dear daughter had a point.