Saturday morning, 6:55 a.m.
When Malena and Ruby Wengerd drove into the schoolyard, their buggy packed to the ceiling with quilts neatly wrapped in plastic dry-cleaning bags, she saw that Englisch vehicles were already parked in the softball field. The boys who were in charge of parking—both buggies and cars—had marked the aisles neatly with orange baling string on sticks. A sign with Buggies handwritten on it directed the Amish visitors to the parking area closest to the bishop’s pasture on the far side, where the horses could be unhitched. This was a Yoder innovation, to keep chaos from breaking out as people arrived and departed, and spare the horses’ nerves.
Malena drove around to the back of the quilt tent. Their first task was to put the folded, wrapped quilts in order and later, to peg the first two up on the heavy line that would display them. The line had to be high enough to display the quilts at full length, while low enough for someone to reach it. The Yoders had promised three stepladders for her and her helpers.
The quilts weren’t heavy, of course, but folded into roughly the same dimensions, they certainly were bulky. It took a fair amount of time to get them arranged in order on the long table behind the display line, with a square of orange paper pinned to each one showing the same information as the lot list.
“Twenty-two quilts,” Ruby said, gazing up at the empty line with its sturdy clothes pegs. “That means we only have to climb up there eleven times, ja?”
“Don’t the Englisch buy machines that make you climb stairs?” Malena asked whimsically. “We get the same benefit for free.”
“Those are called stair-steppers,” said a male voice from the tent door. “What are you climbing on?”
Malena and Ruby both turned to see Trey Madison standing in the doorway. Cord McLean let the flap fall behind them and strolled inside. Good grief. The day hadn’t even begun and here was the first distraction.
“We’re not open yet,” she said in her best cheerful tone. “Viewing is at ten, and the auction begins at eleven.”
“We came for the guided tour,” Cord said. “But if you need help, we’re your men.”
Did his emphasis on those last words have some kind of double meaning? “I thought you had chores this morning.”
“I did. Finished them. Or at least, Zach said he’d finish them for me. There wasn’t much left to do—just washing the buggies before the family comes over.”
Dat couldn’t exactly force a man to do chores. Malena had found out from Zach that the movie star was paying them two hundred dollars a day for the privilege, including room and board. If he wanted to pay and not do the work that would train him for his movie, she supposed that was up to him.
“Thanks, but we don’t need help,” Ruby said in her gentle voice. Malena knew it was an effort for her to speak up to someone who wasn’t Amish, which made her appreciate her friend even more.
Cord and Trey didn’t seem to hear. They strolled up to the display table and Cord said, “Which one did you make, Malena?”
“Lot six.” Couldn’t they take a hint?
He laid a hand on it. “This one? Nice.” They had folded it so that part of the Glacier Lily wreath showed, and enough of the background piecing to give the prospective buyer an idea of how it might look once hung. “I’m going to bid on it.”
She did her best to control her face. Her beautiful Glacier Lily, being snatched away by this careless man? Zach had said he’d been game enough to mend fences yesterday, but by the end of the day he’d been cutting wire short and dropping tools. Ranch work was tiring, she knew, but surely he could have admitted he was ready to ride in, and done something less destructive in the barn? What would happen to her quilt in his care?
“I hope you brought your wallet,” was all she said. “Cash only.”
“You don’t take credit cards?”
She gave him a really? sort of look. “Do you see electricity in here?”
His gaze bounced around the tent as though, despite his experience with lamps and propane lately, it had never occurred to him. Then he said to Trey in an urgent tone, “Tell me there’s an ATM in town.”
“There’s an ATM in town, but only one. There should still be money in it at this time of day.”
“The ATM runs out of money?”
You’d think he’d just been told that bank robbers rode in every morning and looted it.
“Come on,” Cord commanded, already walking to the door. “We can hang out with the ladies later.”
And then, thank goodness, they were gone.
Ruby made a choking noise.
Malena whirled to see if she was all right, and found her friend bracing one hand on the table while she laughed herself breathless. Malena couldn’t help herself—she broke into giggles, too. And that was how Dave and Calvin Yoder found them a minute later, with tears in their eyes, gasping for breath.
“Are you two all right?” Dave put down the stepladders he carried. He asked the question of both, but his eyes were all for Ruby. His brother set up the third ladder next to the far pole and wasted no time in jostling Dave out of the way.
“Glad to see you enjoying yourself, Ruby,” he said. “Maybe I could buy you an ice cream later?”
Malena had to get hold of herself. She was supposed to be organizing this auction, not laughing like a woodpecker. Besides, she needed to save her poor friend from these two. “Put one of those in the middle, if you could, and the other at this end.”
Rebecca arrived a minute later, along with Susan Bontrager. Both were glowing—and Malena didn’t even have to ask why. The two reasons for it lifted the tent flap and stepped inside after them.
“Hallo, Simeon, welcome back. It’s good to see you, Noah,” she said. She felt free to hug her sister’s special friend, but Simeon wasn’t the kind of man you just spontaneously hugged. He was the eldest of the three King brothers, a serious man with firm views about things. But this was balanced by a talent for making a success of their carpentry business. She’d leave the hugging to Susan if their courtship progressed that far.
“We weren’t expecting to see you so early,” Ruby said. “Not if the train got in at midnight.”
“If losing a little sleep is the price to pay to see my friends sooner, I’ll do it.” Noah smiled down at Rebecca, who snuggled against his side with such contentment and happiness in her pretty face that Malena felt a tug of loss at her own heart.
But how could she feel the loss of something she’d never experienced? Not seriously, anyway. Driving home with a boy from singing and his clumsy attempts to steal a kiss were not this. She’d never once floated into the house with the certain knowledge that she had just said good night to der Herr’s choice for her.
She’d hazard a guess that Noah wouldn’t wait until the flower wagons were loaded with baskets of blossoms, or even for the full moon next week to create a romantic moment. He looked like he wanted to propose that very second.
“Can we offer you a hand?” Susan said, seemingly unaware of what was transpiring right beside her. “Is everything ready?”
“Ja,” Malena replied, waving a hand over the table as if presenting that year’s quilts to an enthusiastic audience. “We have a while before viewing starts. Want to walk around and see the rest of the auction?”
“I do,” Rebecca said, so of course Noah agreed.
“We have all day,” Susan objected.
“I’d like a look at some of the furniture before the bidding starts,” Simeon said. “Ours is coming in a couple of weeks, but we could use a few pieces.”
“All right,” Susan said instantly. “I’d like a bookcase, and I hear the Zook brothers are going to offer a new flavor of cheese in the food displays in the schoolhouse. Their dilly goat cheese omelette is the second most popular item on our breakfast menu—I don’t know how they can top it.”
The two of them wandered off without waiting for anyone to join them—which was probably just as well. Malena’s gaze met that of her twin and found a twinkle there that told her she was thinking the same thing.
She linked her arm with Ruby’s. “Let’s have a look around. And if I see something I absolutely must have, you’re to march me back here right away.”
They tied the tent door shut and made sure the sign indicating the viewing and auction times hung straight, and headed off for the furniture tent. Handmade furniture came from all over the country to the school auctions in the west, but for this one, it was wunderbaar how many items had been handmade by Amish craftsmen right here in the Siksika.
Noah and Rebecca drifted off. Malena didn’t have the heart to elbow in on their first day together by insisting that they stay a foursome. Besides, Ruby was good company once you got her talking—and once they discouraged the valley’s young men. Did these boys not realize that the bishop’s daughter was not a prize trout, ready for the first one to catch her? She was a person with her own thoughts and feelings—and worth a more gentle approach to get to know her.
Malena had learned long ago that being the bishop’s daughter was no easy thing. Everyone in the church watching you to make sure your example was perfect. No wonder she hardly spoke when every word was weighed and measured.
Zach ambled up to join them, at which point Ruby closed up like a clam, too shy to get out another sentence.
“Finished washing the buggies, did you?” Malena asked her brother pleasantly.
“Didn’t take long, even if my helper ran out on me.”
“Oh? I heard you offered.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said easily. “It was only the one, for Mamm and Sara and the Bopplin. Josh and I walked over with Daniel and his family.”
“It’s funny to think of Daniel with a family,” Malena said. “At this time last year, he and Lovina hadn’t even met … again.”
“And now, he’s got both a wife and a son,” Ruby managed to add.
“I hope their family grows,” Malena said. “Imagine, three Bopplin on the Circle M, all born within a year of one another. Daniel’s Joel will have his hands full with cousins.”
“And loving every minute,” Zach said with a laugh. “Are you two looking for anything special?”
“I wanted to see if there was a sewing table,” Malena replied. “Ruby, remember the one last year, with the expansion that slid out and all the cubbyholes?”
“I remember the price tag on it,” Ruby said. “Maybe the carpenter has made another one for this year.”
Zach must not have anything else to do, or else the Yoder boys were busy, Malena thought as they walked up and down the three aisles of bedroom sets, dining room sets, coffee tables, and bookcases. And then she forgot about everything but the fact that a table almost like last year’s was once again on display.
She covered her eyes. “Ruby, tell me quickly. How much are they asking?”
Her friend whispered the number in her ear and Malena groaned. “I guess I’d better get some more quilts into Rose’s shop if I want to afford that.”
“You’ve got your cattle money, haven’t you?” Zach asked.
“Imagine Dat’s face if I told him I spent it on a sewing table. Neh, Mamm’s is good enough for me.” She sighed, and turned her back on the lovely thing. “I will stand firm and go back to the quilt tent where I belong.”
“I want to look around a little longer,” Ruby said. “But I’ll be there well in time for viewing.”
Malena left them to themselves. Zach was as quiet a person as Ruby. She hoped they’d have a wonderful time saying nothing to each other while they looked at the beautiful handmade items ready to be auctioned.
The quilt auction tent was exactly as they’d left it. She walked slowly to the head of the display table. To hang the first two for the viewing, or not? She was ruminating when she heard the whisper of canvas and turned.
Oh.
“Hey.” Cord McLean walked over with an easy stride, hands in his jeans pockets.
“Did you find the ATM?”
He slapped his hip pocket. “It took me three credit cards to get the amount I wanted, but I got it. I hope nobody picks my pocket. They’ll be rich.”
“Here?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not likely.”
“Good to know. What are you doing?”
Wishing you’d go away and leave me to think. But neh, she couldn’t say that out loud. She’d offend him, and he might leave before the week was up, and the Circle M would lose the unexpected windfall that could help with expenses. Since this year’s calves wouldn’t be sold until after roundup, every dollar counted just now.
So she said, “I’m trying to decide whether I should hang the first two quilts or not. Viewing opens at ten.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” He walked to the head of the table and looked the first two over.
“Because it might give them an unfair advantage. None of the others are displayed.”
“You should hang the one you made.”
She snorted. “My first year in charge of the auction, and I display my own quilt? That would be the very definition of prideful. Our bishop’s wife would never let me help again, and she’d be right not to.”
“Prideful?” He looked honestly puzzled. “Seems to me it’s more like a benefit. A perk for all the work you’ve put in.”
“There are many others who have put in just as much work,” she told him. “If everyone pushed and shoved to give their things the best place, imagine what chaos this whole auction would turn into.”
He laughed. “I guess you’re right.”
She supposed she couldn’t blame him for not knowing how to look at life the Amish way. “We believe in giving place, not taking place. That way, everyone gets a place.”
“If you say so. But in my world, if I did that, I’d disappear in the crowd.”
To an Amish person, that was the point. Mammi had cross-stitched a bookmark for her years ago that said, It takes the effort of every blade of grass to keep the meadow green. When you looked at a meadow, you saw its beauty. Not individual blades of grass.
“Oh, I don’t think you would,” she said without thinking.
She hadn’t meant anything by it. But he seemed to take it as a compliment. Worse, as encouragement. And here he was, crowding her as she stood at the head of the long table. As if there wasn’t twelve or fifteen feet for him to take up space in.
“Now, what did you mean by that?” he said in a caressing tone.
“Nothing.” She took a step to one side. The tent was beginning to feel a little stuffy. The canvas became almost translucent as the sun rose over the treetops outside.
He took a step, too. “Did you mean … you think I stand out in a crowd?”
“I don’t know, Cord.” Another step away. “Why don’t you go outside and see?”
“I can’t. A news van pulled up five minutes ago. I’m actually in here hiding.”
Of course he assumed they were there to put him on the news, not the auction, which would be attended by a thousand people if everything went well. She looked him in the eye. “You. Hiding from a camera. Do you know where liars go?”
“To Washington?”
What? She frowned at him.
“Ma-lay-na,” he crooned. “Don’t spoil your pretty face like that. You’ll make me not want to kiss you.”
“That would probably be best,” said a voice from the door.
The two of them jumped apart as Alden tied the tent door open. He felt sick to his stomach—they had been standing so close, saying goodness knew what, until she’d made a face at him and he’d said that about not kissing her. How had it progressed so far in just a couple of days? Cord McLean was playing with her, anybody could see that. But Alden had no right to say any more than he already had—and that was being plenty forward as it was. Elbowing his way into a brother’s place when he most certainly did not want her to think of him as a brother.
Malena Miller could take care of herself. But all the same, she was out of her league with this worldly Englischer.
“It’s quarter to ten,” Alden said mildly. “Anything I can do before the folks start coming in?”
Her cheeks flew scarlet flags of emotion—embarrassment or temper at his interference, he couldn’t tell. But her voice was steady. “Neh, denki.” Was she speaking Deitsch deliberately, to exclude Cord? And was that a subtle stress on denki? As though she was glad he’d come in just then?
He must be imagining it. She’d refused his help, no more.
He was turning to leave them alone, when Malena said, “Wait—the Yoder girls were supposed to be here by now to hand out lot lists to people.” She hurried over to a side table and slid half the sheets out of the envelope he’d brought over to the Circle M yesterday. “Can you stand by the door and give these out?”
He’d lie down in a creek if she wanted to cross it on his back. “Sure.”
Her face flushed again. “I mean, I know you probably have more important things to do, but—”
Over her shoulder he could see Cord lounging against one of the display line poles, watching them. He made up his mind.
“We’re all here to support the auction. If that helps it make as much money as possible, I’ll do it.”
“Denki,” she said again. “We’ll be done by noon, and then you can have your day back.”
“Ischt okay,” he assured her. “I’ve already done my business. Got a nice lot of bar stock and a drill press. That was a real find. Glad I brought Joseph to haul it home—it weighs two hundred pounds.”
The color in her cheeks was fading, leaving her skin its usual soft peaches and cream. “I’m so pleased you got it,” she told him. “I hope you won’t—”
But whatever she’d meant to say was cut off by the arrival of a gabbling flock of reporters, who had clearly been tipped off to the movie star’s whereabouts. People outside must have heard the ruckus, because they began streaming into the tent to see what was going on, ignoring Alden and the lot lists, making a beeline for the cameras, their own cell phones already out to take Cord’s picture.
“The quilts!” Malena said urgently, and hurried over to the table, which was in danger of being upset by the pushing crowd. “Cord, for goodness sake, can you take these people outside?”
“I’m bringing your bidders in,” he called. “You should be thanking me.”
“Who’s this?” one of the reporters said. “You know these Amish people?”
Alden lunged as the huge camera on the man’s shoulder swung on Malena. He got his back in front of it just in time to prevent her being filmed, giving her two precious seconds to turn her own back. “We don’t allow pictures,” he said firmly. “Please turn it away.”
“Why not?” the man asked, lowering his camera. “Just walking over here from the road, I got all kinds of shots of your people.”
“Children, maybe, or people at a distance or with their backs turned,” Alden said. “Nothing where you could identify the person. A photograph is a graven image to us, and the Bible forbids those.”
“No kidding.” The man sounded mystified, but at least he didn’t put up an argument.
“Come on, Matt,” the man with him urged. “Cord’s going to give us an interview.”
“Not in here, please,” Alden said, trying to get the movie star’s attention, to no avail.
The knot around Cord was a babble of people trying to get closer while the reporters rattled off questions.
“Look this way, Mr McLean.”
“How is cowboy training going?”
“Please, Cord, can we get a selfie with you?” This was from a bunch of Englisch girls in cut-off shorts and tank tops.
“Wow,” Malena said. “Do you think he actually likes this?”
“Hard to tell.” But in Alden’s mind, he sure seemed to. He answered every single question, smiled for the camera, and took picture after picture with the girls and anyone else who asked him. In any other situation, the excitement would have worn off once people had the pictures they wanted. But here, the crowd only seemed to grow, both in size and in volume.
Two Amishmen came in the door and stopped short, trying to figure out if it was a crisis or whether someone was hurt. At this rate, somebody was going to get overexcited and need an EMT.
Malena groaned. “It’s the auctioneers—I have to speak to them. Alden, can you keep these Englisch away from the front? I’m afraid someone is going to tip over the table.”
“Of course.” He handed her the lot lists and took up a position where he could grab the table if the crowd surged this way.
Malena greeted the auctioneers and asked them if they’d had a good trip from Indiana. Alden knew that being an auctioneer was a special skill, and men with that skill traveled all over the country for events like this. For smaller events, too, like selling off the furniture and equipment of a farm after the passing of its owners.
Malena brought them over and introduced them as Rodney Beachy and Seth Eicher. “We’re going to need a fellow to encourage the crowd to bid,” Rodney, the senior man, said to Alden. “Any chance you might help?”
This was miles out of Alden’s league. “I’ve never even been to a quilt auction,” he said. “What would I have to do?”
“You’ve probably seen them in the equipment tent,” Seth said. He was about Alden’s age. “You wave your hands like this—” He demonstrated a come on motion. “—and help us spot people who have raised their hands but not enough to see. And maybe one or two are undecided and you can encourage them to bid. Answer questions if you’re able. Can you do that?”
“I—well, I—” How was he supposed to convince someone to bid if they hadn’t already decided on it? Or answer questions about quilts? The only quilt he knew anything about was the Glacier Lily.
“Please, Alden,” Malena begged. “I need all the help in here I can get.”
That decided him. “All right.”
The Yoder girls burst through the tent door and ran up in a flurry of apologies and questions. And then, to Alden’s surprise, at least half of the people in Cord’s admiring crowd decided to find chairs for the quilt auction. Lot lists were given out and now a crowd formed around the display tables. With a sense of relief, he saw Cord take the reporters outside, which made the noise level drop significantly.
It seemed like no time before Malena and Ruby carefully stripped the flimsy plastic off the first two quilts and advanced together to the display line. They climbed the stepladders in unison and pegged up the two quilts.
Alden took up a position where he could see as much of his half of the tent as he could, while Seth took the far side. Rodney Beachy mounted the small stage and took his place at the auctioneer’s lectern. “Welcome, welcome, folks, to the Mountain Home Amish School quilt auction,” he said in a booming voice that needed no microphone. “We hope you’ve had a look over the beautiful quilts you’ll be bidding on today. If you haven’t got a lot list, just wave a hand and we’ll see that you get one. Up first is Coffee Pots. Who’s going to start the bidding at fifty dollars? Do I have fifty dollars? Thank you. A hundred dollars—yes, there we are …”
In about two minutes the bidding was up to eight hundred dollars, and Alden could only stand there in admiration of the auctioneer’s skill, to say nothing of how fast his mouth could move.
“Sold!” Rodney cried in triumph at eight hundred fifty, and Coffee Pots was removed from the line. The second quilt was moved into its place by Malena and Ruby, and the Yoder sisters unwrapped a third to peg up for people to appreciate before bidding began on it.
The bidding sped to its conclusion five more times, the quilts made their way on and off the display line, and Alden’s heart kicked into a brisk trot as Glacier Lily was moved from the display position to active bidding. A murmur rippled through the crowd loudly enough for Rodney to hear.
“Isn’t this a beauty?” he asked with a big smile. “Who wouldn’t want Glacier Lily in their home? I think we’d better start the bidding at two hundred dollars, hey? Who will give two hundred dollars for this one-of-a-kind quilt?”
Alden’s hand shot into the air of its own volition.
At the front of the room, standing ready near the middle stepladder, Malena’s mouth fell into an O the same shape as her wide eyes.
“We have two hundred. Who will give me three hundred for this quilt, handmade right here in the Siksika Valley?”
The bidding shot up—and up. Alden saw the inevitability of its going for a thousand dollars barreling down on him like an Amtrak train, and could hardly concentrate enough to bring a woman in the back wearing a green windbreaker to Rodney’s attention.
“A thousand dollars!” Rodney cried, clearly enjoying himself. “Who will be brave enough to bid a thousand for this unique and practical work of art?”
Alden’s hand flew into the air and Malena’s face went stark white.
“Eleven hundred! Do I have eleven hundred, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you, there in the back in the green jacket. Do I have twelve hundred?”
Twelve hundred. What was he thinking? He couldn’t possibly.
Alden’s hand went up.
“Twelve hundred, thank you! Who will give me thirteen hundred?”
Alden felt like he was going to faint. His hand trembled. Twitched. Wavered.
“Thirteen hundred, thank you to the man in the granite Resistol. Do I have fourteen hundred?”
The granite Resistol?
Alden’s hand flew into the air.
“Fourteen hundred, thank you very much, do I hear fifteen? Yes indeed, we have fifteen hundred. Fifteen hundred, do I hear sixteen?”
Alden turned to glare at Cord McLean, standing there at the back of the crowd in his granite-colored Resistol hat, looking the part of a cowboy. The camera was still on him as he bid.
“Do I hear sixteen?”
Alden’s hand rose halfway.
“Sixteen hundred, do I hear seventeen hund—thank you, that Resistol makes you real easy to see. Not to mention the camera. Do I hear eighteen hundred?”
Eighteen hundred was more than Alden made in a month. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Both his sisters and his mother were sitting halfway back, staring at him in complete dismay. How were they going to pay the rent if he bid on—
“Seventeen hundred going once.”
Alden pushed his hand into the air as though it were plowing through mud.
“Eighteen hundred! Nineteen hundred, thank you, lady in the green jacket. Do I hear two thousand? An even two thousand. Highest bid ever at the Mountain Home Amish School quilt auction. Come, folks, set a record. Do I hear two thousand?”
Alden’s mind reeled. He couldn’t breathe properly.
“Two thousand!” Rodney crowed in triumph. “Do I hear twenty-one? No bids at twenty-one? Going once at two thousand. Going twice. Sold to the young man in the granite Resistol. I hope the lady you plan to give it to appreciates how much you love her. Next up is the …”
But Alden never heard the name of the next quilt. A roaring sounded in his ears as the world swung around him. As he watched Malena, moving stiffly, take Glacier Lily down off the line, fold it carefully, and hold it against her chest while Ruby slipped the dry-cleaning bag over it once more. They marked the bidder’s name on the orange slip and while the Yoder girls moved the next quilt up the line, Ruby made her way around the rows of benches to give the slip to Cord. He would take it to the cashier’s booth, hand over his two thousand dollars, and get a receipt.
Once he handed Sadie’s proof of payment to Malena, he would leave with the quilt.
And some part of Malena’s heart, for sure and certain, would go out the door with it.