CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Three weeks later…

 

Her beautiful soprano voice filled the little house as the fire crackled in the fireplace that lined the middle of the right wall.  Just above the fireplace was an adorable assortment of hanging mittens, red, yellow, blue, orange, and even pink, and all laced with white, they would make excellent gifts for any eager buyer.  She’d knitted one-hundred mittens, one-hundred scarfs, and she was on her hundredth shawl.  She smiled.  She’d done it all by herself. 

The front door swung open, and her uncle Graham came stumbling in.  “It feels like Ole Jack Frost has come to see us early!”  He chuckled and took off his straw hat and hung it on the hat rack to the right of the fireplace.  “You know that you could condense the coats and hats together and hang some of your beautiful knitting work on the spare rack.”

Alcohol didn’t fill the air as he talked, and it had been like that for about a week, and Charlotte had wondered why.  His face wasn’t flushed and his eyes didn’t have that burning redness to them.  Had her prayers for God to deliver him from alcohol worked?  Could a man that had drunk since the age of sixteen suddenly give it up?  Charlotte pulled the yarn taunt through the last lavender and white shawl and sent up a prayer.  “This makes one-hundred!”

Uncle Graham pulled up a chair and sat the second lantern on the table.  “You fixed some mighty good kaffi, Charlotte!” 

“Thank You.  I drink a lot of it while I knit.  Do you think I’ll ever get married and move; you know: have my own man of the place and my own kinner?”

“Why are you in a hurry?” He sipped his coffee and then continued probing, “Any men in mind?”

“Well, you’re not going to like this, but I think your competition is interesting.”

“Roy Bender! How on earth did he spark your interest?  What on earth do you see in such a quick-talking, bitter millionaire?”

“He challenges me.  That’s why I’m knitting.”  The lamp flickered, as did the hot logs in the open fireplace.  She sipped her coffee and enjoyed the warm, robust taste and steaming hot, rich aroma.  It soothed her sore throat.

“You have knitted three-hundred clothing accessories to satisfy a rich man?”  He sighed, and she giggled.  He had never known his niece to be interested in a man, and he was happy for her, but at the same time, he wanted her to be cautious and not get her heart broken.  Roy Bender had never done anything mean, although some took his strict business-like behavior as being downright rude.  The man double-tithed, didn’t curse, and had never drunk a drop of strong drink.  It looked like she was headed in the right direction, and he would give her his “courting game tips, because she’d need them with Roy.” 

She leaned toward the lamp’s rays and looked at him.  It was good to have company.  Should she tell him about why she’d decided to close herself back up into the five-room box?  She took a breath and sat her knitting yarn down on the table.  “He hurt my feelings.  I wanted to chat with him on the porch.  I wanted to rock in the rocking chair next to him.” She snickered, and he gave a quick nod of agreement, wondering why he had been so rude to his beautiful niece.  A girl with a perfect figure, gold spirals of fine hair, the rare kind that glistened like a princess, and the most crystal blue baby blues that any man would enjoy; what was wrong with this man?

“He shared his umbrella with me when I was in town late one evening, and he let me lean on his chest, and it felt so warm, so comforting, and butterflies swirled inside me, and for once, I felt completely loved.  It’s hard to describe, but I want that feeling so badly, to feel that closeness, that energy flowing from a man’s desire to hold me.”

He giggled.  “That’s how the attraction of love starts, and that’s what it’s all about.  Take my courting game, so what I say, and you’ll get your man.”

Hesitation grew in her voice as her brow wrinkled, “He’s your only competitor; I can’t do that to you Uncle Graham!” 

“He’s my best friend,” he remarked, and her mouth flew wide open, her eyes gleamed.  “I will invite him over to help me fix your fence tomorrow so that you can have proper shelter for your birds when they come in on Wednesday.”

“Thank you.  I don’t want any more packs of wolves to gobble them up.  I shall fix a good supper for you all.  How does rhubarb-strawberry pie sound for dessert?”  Her mouth turned upward and her eyes sparkled with excitement of the handsome guest.  “If he gets a little cranky, that is okay.  I feel like there’s a wall that he’s putting up between us.”  She knew that she’d like to get through his wall of protection and closer to his heart, but she didn’t know exactly how she was going to do it.

“Okay.  I’ll invite him over after lunch, and we’ll prepare to have him as a supper guest.  He loves bean soup and fried potatoes and onions.  I know that’s one of your favorite meals too.”

The chair scooted back, its wooden legs scraping across the wood floor, and she stood yawning.  “I’ll put some on to soak right now.”

“I’ll go invite him.  I need to talk to Turner down at the saloon.”

“Don’t stay out long; I worry about you Uncle Graham.  Should I go with you?”  She knew that he wouldn’t tarry long in the saloon and probably wouldn’t stir up a fight if she was with him.

They walked out and got the horses ready to go into town.  The late evening breeze blew a light, relaxing coolness that each of them needed, and both enjoyed each other’s company.  The stars twinkled, and she looked up, thinking about the intense excitement that she had for her uncle’s best friend.  Were they really close?  How well did he know Roy Bender?

“How much shall I sell your mittens for, Charlotte?”  He asked as the wagon wheel rocked over the rocky turn that led to the main dirt road to town. 

He was proud of his niece’s commitment to raise her own money for her treatments.  Would she ever find out the truth?  Ever since he’d split up from Kathy, mainly because of her busy show life on New York’s Broadway center stage, he’d wanted to tell her the truth, that one of her parents had been there at the beginning of her life, the one that rocked her, held her, and when she wasn’t growing a head full of hair like her twin sister, one that had attempted to grow her more hair.  He puffed out a deep breath and let the night air fan his heated face. 

“I’m sorry about the hair tonic.  I didn’t know that it had hurt you that badly.  I wanted you to have a head full of beautiful hair, and that you do have, Charlotte.”

“Uncle Graham, I forgive you, and I love my long hair, especially the curls.  Thank you for doctoring me up.”  She leaned up and kissed his cheek.  “I’m my uncle’s favorite niece.  I always have been, haven’t I?”

Tears filled his eyes, for he knew that she was old enough to know the truth.  How could he tell her that he was her real father, that he had been married to Kathy, and that the postal clerk, Rachael Anne, was her twin sister?  He had sensed that Pearl had become attached to her and didn’t want to give her up, and that’s why she’d never let her meet her twin sister, for Rachael Anne knew the truth, and she had known since she was in first grade. His stomach churned, his palms turning to a sticky mess.  He wanted a relationship with his daughter for so long, and he was determined to be close to her, be a part of her life, and be a good father, a sober one, and that’s why he’d stopped drinking.

The horses trotted at a slower pace as they approached town.  Doctor Bronson was leaning against Roy Bender’s wagon leisurely talking, and several men sat on upside down candy barrels sipping beer outside the saloon. 

“Their supposed to be inside drinking,” Uncle Graham said as he pointed to them, and she looked over at them and shook her head.

“Hello Doctor Bronson and Mr. Bender!”  Charlotte yelled and eagerly waved.  They turned away from their conversation, smiled, and waved for them to come over, and they tied their horses and gladly accepted the invitation. 

“Ms. Miller, Thank you for showing up for work, and I want you to have this for your efforts in bracing an approaching storm to come work for me.” He handed her a five dollar bill before continuing in a nice, friendly tone,  “Hiring and firing is always something that I’ve hated, but Lillie Troyer lives next door, and I’ve enjoyed  having her over at my lake to help me with business proposals.  She can write quite well.”

A madness that turned to a bitter sadness ran throw her bones.  That was why he had two chairs there by the lake. How could she pursue a man was interested in hiring another member of her Amish community instead of her, and she hadn’t even gotten the chance to rock with him on the front porch of the cabin.  She would have never asked to have a spot by the lake; she knew she wasn’t that attractive of a girl.  She felt like a fool for wasting her time on a man that wouldn’t care about her or even listen to her.  This was a sure sign to move on. 

“We thought it would be a good idea to have you two over for lunch tomorrow,” Uncle Graham said in a hospitable tone, and the two men grew smiles of excitement and accepted.  “I will pay you to help me rebuild her small fence for the new chickens that she’ll be getting.”

“I’ll do it for free,” Roy Bender blurted and eyed Charlotte’s five dollar bill. 

He already gave me five dollars and now he’s going to help build a fence.  He is upset, and as usual, it is all about money. She knew that she needed the money for her treatments, but she also knew that it wasn’t right for her to accept it and then ask him to do manual work on her farm, so she graciously handed it back to him.  “Take this back.  It is very kind of you to offer to help with the fence.”

“What about the Doctor?”  He asked and shook his head toward him.

“I have five dollars at home for him too.”  I shall pay him tomorrow, and I promise that I am a woman of my word.”

The Doctor smiled, “It’s a pleasure doing business with you Ms. Miller.  I see that you’re in Amish attire now; are you joining the church?”

“Yes Sir, I am joining, and my instruction class starts next week.  I will then be moving to Walnut Creek to shadow a schoolteacher to see if this is what I want to do.”  The night’s wind blew her kapp strings as she spoke, and her dark brown cape dress fit snugly around her waist, and Roy Bender noticed that she still had her black apron tied snuggly too. 

“Roy, could you stay out her with her while the Doctor and I go inside to handle business with Turner?”  Uncle Graham asked as he looked at Roy, and Roy gave a nod.

The men walked in to the saloon and the two men that were sitting on the upside down candy barrels followed behind them, the wooden doors swaying as they entered.  The sound of loud music floated out onto Main Street. 

Charlotte remembered Uncle Graham’s first rule for a lady catching a man: ask him out to a picnic along the countryside, and cook for him, for a man’s stomach is the key to his heart.

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”  Nervousness slid between her fingers, so she placed them on her hips. “The stars are beautiful.  They sparkle like your eyes.”

He grinned and made direct eye contact with her.  He looked relaxed as the wind picked up and dangled the ends of his brown straw hat.

“Would you like to go on a picnic with me after you get done with your Saturday sales?”  She titled her head, her blonde curls heavy but dangling over her neck.  He smiled at her as he studied her curls.  He so desperately wanted to take his thick fingers and run them through her golden hair, but he resisted the urge.

She got closer and leaned onto his chest, which is what Uncle Graham had instructed to do if one didn’t get a quick respond to tactic one.  She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his strong chest, and she could hear his heart beating.  She extended her left arm around his neck and lightly and gave a hug. “Thank you for offering to help my uncle rebuild my fence.  I enjoy gathering the eggs for the chickens.  For sixteen years, I watched out my upstairs bedroom window, not allowed to ever leave my house, to feel the dirt ground against my feet, or to grab a fresh egg from its nest.  It’s something very special to me.”

“Be a lady and stop hugging.  People might see us,” he whispered, and she hesitated.

Her eyes closed as she slid her head closer up his chest, feeling his suspenders and cotton shirt.  He felt like a strong Amish man, one who shared the same culture and faith as her, and she liked that about him and didn’t want to let him go.  “I am a lady, and I am so intrigued by you, Roy Bender.  Just hold me for a second longer, let the butterflies swim in my stomach.  She sighed against his chest, “It’s such a weird feeling.”

“That’s what Lillie Bender says!”  He informed, knowing that it would make her spitting mad, but he had to tell the truth, that Lillie Bender had recently expresses interest in him.  However, she hadn’t invited him to a picnic like Charlotte had just done, and he wondered why.

She took a deep breath, remembering Uncle Graham’s third rule for courting: Give the kiss! She reached up and lightly tapped her lips against his, and he leaned down and pressed his lips further into her lips. 

Her heart raced, and she forgot about the swimming butterflies; her attention was on the electric feeling that made her toes wiggle, her finger tips press harder into the back of his head, his straw hat lay on his buggy seat.  She jumped back and cupped her mouth.  “I knocked your hat off.  I am so sorry Mr. Bender.” 

His smile was so wide that he looked like a changed man, but she knew what was coming next: a rude remark, so she decided to take control and avoid a rude remark. “Let’s walk over here to the side of the post office; I need to tell you something about Uncle Graham, and I don’t want anyone eavesdropping.  She’d told the truth, for she wanted to inquire about his drinking habits, for he had come home with no sense of alcohol on his person for a week, and she wondered why.

They walked over next to the side of the building, the darkness making it hard to see, but she didn’t care.  She looked up at him and said, “My uncle is no longer drinking?”

He nodded and looked at her.  She looked through the night’s darkness to try to examine his head full of hair, but it was too dark, so she tiptoed up and pressed her lips against his, and he threw his arms around her neck, under her long curls, and kissed her tightly. 

She ran her hands through his hair, finding that it was thicker on top than she had thought.  Absorbed in his lips, she took her hand, grabbed strands of her glistening hair and rubbed it against his face.  He let go and gazed into her eyes. “You have beautiful curls, Charlotte.”

“Go ahead and run your hands through my curls.  They want you to, Roy. I know that you must be interested in how it would feel to feel my hair as much as I wanted to feel your hair.  It felt very good; I want you to have that pleasure.”  She blushed, as she felt a little “worldly” for speaking like that, but she had spoken the truth.  Surely he had the same desires as she had, and she couldn’t deny them.

“Sure, I’d love to young lady,” he uttered as he playfully dangled his fingertips through her tight curls.  Unraveling one, he on each side of her face, he pulled the delicate gold up and over his shoulders and then rejoined his lips to hers.  Slowly and reluctantly, he let go and uttered, “You have your date Charlotte!”  Uncle Graham’s plan had worked!  She was so excited that she bounced out of his arms and almost jumped up and down like a jumping jack. 

“Charlotte! Charlotte!”  His increase in tone finally broke her excitement as she made eye contact.

“What?”  Attentively, she leaned her head toward him and then walked into his arms.  “I’m sorry; I was so excited.  I’ve wanted you for some time now.”

“Remember what I said about your wearing the Englisch clothes?”  He glanced down, his eyes sparkling, but his attitude moving toward his rudeness, the rudeness that had attracted her to him.  “I would have noticed you if you hadn’t been trying to be something that you weren’t.  You know God doesn’t like that sweetheart.”

“I see.  I understand.  Well, I wanted to rock in one of the rocking chairs with you, to get to know you better.”

“You may do that on Sunday after services at Troyer’s haus,” he replied before bending down and kissing her lips again.  “I like your style.”

She giggled, knowing that it wasn’t her style; it was her uncle’s style.  Maybe traveling salesmen could read each other’s minds, and maybe they courted the same way.  She was very thankful for Uncle Graham.