Two days after arriving unannounced at her aunt’s home outside of Bowmans Crossing, Helen Zook sat in the buggy beside her aunt Charlotte wishing she had thought to plug her ears with cotton before leaving the house. The woman had been talking nonstop for the past two miles. Her basset hound had been barking loudly for almost as long.
“Remember, Helen, as far as anyone knows, you are here to visit me for the summer. The less said about your unfortunate incident, the better. In fact, don’t say anything about it. Unless you are specifically asked, then you mustn’t lie. Liars never prosper.”
“It’s cheaters.”
“What did you say, Helen? Clyde, do be quiet.”
“I said cheaters never prosper.”
“Of course they don’t. I’m sure you have never cheated anyone. I know I haven’t. The truth is the best defense, Helen, but there’s no point in telling people everything. Bowmans Crossing is a wonderful community, but there are those among us who like to spread gossip. I shouldn’t name names, but Verna Yoder and Ina Fisher are the worst offenders. Clyde, get down, can’t you see I’m driving?”
Charlotte gently pushed aside the overweight brown-and-white hound dog trying to climb onto her lap. Helen took him by the collar and tugged him back to the floor. He gave her a mournful look before settling all seventy pounds of his wrinkles and flab on her left foot. Gritting her teeth, Helen tried to move him, but he refused to budge another inch.
Charlotte slowed the horse as the buggy rounded the curve beside the district’s one-room school. The playground and swings were empty now. The students were home for the summer, but Helen couldn’t go home.
“Are you paying attention to me, dear? I feel as if I’m talking to myself.”
Helen freed her foot, but her shoe remained under Clyde’s slobbery chin. “I’m paying attention, Aenti Charlotte. I’m visiting for the summer. Don’t mention that my fiancé humiliated me in front of all our family and friends when he threw me over because he wanted to marry my sister one week before the banns for our wedding were to be announced. Bowmans Crossing is wonderful, except for the gossiping pair Ina Fisher and Verna Yoder. Cheaters never prosper, but they can get married and live happily ever after, but I don’t have to watch them moon over each other. How could my own sister do this to me? How could Joseph?”
Helen didn’t share the part she had played in the disaster. Why should she? She was the one suffering now.
It was all so horrible. She might have been able to bear the pitying looks and well-meaning comments that only served as salt in the wound. The real thing she couldn’t tolerate was seeing how happy they were together.
“You girls will make up, and this will all be forgotten in time.”
“I don’t see how. She stole the man I wanted to marry.” Helen’s voice crackled.
Joe should have stood by her. If he loved her, he would have. Helen raised her chin. It was painful, but it was better to know how shallow his affections had been before they wed.
“You must not look at what you have lost for it is not your will that is important. It is His will.”
“His will was to marry my sister, and he did just that.”
Charlotte cast Helen a sidelong glance. “I’m not talking about that young man’s will. It is Gott’s will you must accept. You must forgive your sister and her husband as is right.”
“I forgive them.” Helen spoke the words, but they didn’t echo in her heart. The pain was too new and too raw.
“That is goot. Forgiving blesses the forgiver as much as the forgiven.” Charlotte clicked her tongue to get the horse moving faster.
The road straightened, and a covered bridge came into view. The weathered red wooden structure stood in sharp contrast to the thick green trees that grew along the roadway and along the river in both directions. Wide enough for two lanes of traffic, the opening loomed like a cave. A new community awaited Helen beyond the portal. What would she find? Hopefully employment.
Charlotte pointed with her chin. “Just the other side of the river is Isaac Bowman’s home, but you have to go about a quarter of a mile farther down the road and turn the corner to reach their lane. That’s where the frolic is being held today. He and his wife, Anna, have five sons. I’m sorry to say the young men have all married, but Isaac has two nephews from Pennsylvania living with him now and they are unwed, although one has a girl back home.”
It had been dark when the van stopped to let her rude companion out, but Helen was almost certain the Bowman house had been his destination. They hadn’t exchanged names so she couldn’t be sure of his identity. She hoped and prayed he wouldn’t be at the frolic. Her behavior hadn’t been the best but neither had his.
“Isaac also employs a number of unmarried fellows in his furniture-making business. You will have plenty of young men to pick from.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like I’ve arrived at the husband orchard.”
“The husband orchard. How cute. It should be the title of a book. I’d read it. Oh, that’s very clever.”
It hadn’t taken Helen long to realize her aunt was an avid reader. Her living room held stacks of dog-lover magazines and heaps of novels, from an extensive collection of the classics to some popular romance stories the bishop might raise an eyebrow at if he knew she had them.
Charlotte chuckled and looked at her dog. “Isn’t Helen a clever girl, Clyde?”
He took it as an invitation to climb into his mistress’s lap. Helen used the opportunity to grab her damp shoe.
“Not now, Clyde, I’m driving.” Charlotte pushed him aside. Helen quickly drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them to give the hound more room to spread out on the floorboards. He locked gazes with her but didn’t test her patience by trying to climb in her lap. Instead, he started barking at the roof. Scrabbling overhead accompanied by a chittering sound proved her aunt’s pet raccoon was still safely riding atop the buggy.
“Did we have to bring Juliet?”
“Her feelings would be hurt if I took Clyde along and didn’t take her.”
“We could have left them both at home.” The buggy rolled into the dark interior of the bridge. The horse’s hoofbeats echoed back from the rafters. Helen stared through the slatted sides at the Bowman house on the hillside across the river. She could see tables had been set up on the lawn, and groups of people were already gathered there.
“Honestly, Helen, I don’t think you like my little friends. Please remember they had made their home with me long before you arrived, and they’ll be with me long after you have gone back to Indiana.”
“I’m not going back to Indiana.” Helen had no idea where she was going, but she would make her own way in the world. As soon as she found the means to support herself.
Charlotte’s brow wrinkled with concern. “You are welcome to reside with me for the summer, but you never said anything about staying permanently.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t be burdened with me for long.”
“That’s the spirit. Things will work out for you and your sister. You’ll see. Oh, Clyde won’t be happy until he can look out the windshield. Helen, take the reins.”
Helen grabbed for the lines her aunt dropped as she scooted over to make room for her dog. The horse veered sharply to the right as they came out of the dark bridge into the bright sunlight. A man standing on the edge of the roadway was forced to jump backward to avoid being run down.
Helen managed to stop the horse. Clyde, now taking up more than his fair share of the front seat, started barking wildly. Helen leaned out the door to look back to see if the man was injured. He appeared unharmed as he got to his feet. “I’m sorry,” she called out.
Her breath caught in her throat. The man picking his hat up off the road was the fellow from the bus. She knew by the way his eyes widened that he recognized her, too. His brows snapped together in a fierce frown. “If you can’t drive any better than that, you should give the reins to the dog,” he shouted at her.
Of all the nerve. As much as Helen wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his rudeness, she held her tongue for her aunt’s sake. It wouldn’t do to start her time in Bowmans Crossing by embarrassing Charlotte in front of her friends, for several women were walking along the roadway with hampers and baskets over their arms. The women all waved or called a greeting to Helen’s aunt. Charlotte waved Clyde’s front paw at them. Helen slapped the reins on the horse’s rump, and the mare trotted forward.
“Who was that rude man?” she asked, glancing in her rearview mirror.
Charlotte turned to look behind them. “The one standing by the bridge? That’s Mark Bowman. The nephew. He has a girl back home. I admit he’s a nice-looking young man with those striking green eyes, but handsome is as handsome is.”
“As handsome does,” Helen said, glancing back again. He wasn’t bad-looking, but she didn’t think he was particularly good-looking. Okay, maybe he was mildly attractive.
“As handsome does what, dear?”
Helen took note of her aunt’s faintly puzzled expression and sighed inwardly. She’d only been at her aunt’s home for two days, but it was already shaping up to be a trial. “Never mind.”
“You’d do better to try and attract the attention of the younger brother, Paul, although Anna tells me Mark is the more hardworking of the two.”
“I’m not here to attract a man.” She wouldn’t make that mistake again anytime soon. If ever. And certainly not with a rude, arrogant fellow like Mark Bowman or his brother.
* * *
Mark raked a hand through his hair as he stared after the buggy. That had been a close call. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with thoughts of Angela’s letter, he might have seen the horse veering his way sooner. It wasn’t like him to be distracted. He grew angry with himself for allowing it to happen.
“Are you all right?” His brother, Paul, came up the steep bank, his eyes full of concern. His cousin Noah rushed up behind Paul.
“I thought you were going to be wearing hoofprints up the front of your shirt. Who was that?” Paul demanded.
“Charlotte Zook,” Noah said. “I recognized the raccoon on her roof. The woman is a little ab en kopp.”
Mark shook his head. “Charlotte may be off in the head, but she wasn’t driving. I don’t know the woman’s name, but I saw her get off the bus when I did the other night.” He decided not to share the conversation they’d had.
“Another mystery woman.” Paul craned his neck to see down the road.
“What does that mean?” Mark asked.
Paul grinned. “Haven’t you heard? We’ve got nearly a dozen new single girls visiting folks in the area. They are all unknown to me and waiting to be discovered. Was the girl driving Charlotte’s buggy pretty?”
His brother was always on the lookout for an attractive girl. He was four years younger than Mark, and he hadn’t yet learned that looks didn’t matter. A man needed a steady, strong, levelheaded woman for a helpmate. He thought he had that with Angela, but he had been wrong. “I didn’t notice. I was trying not to get run down. Let’s get this frolic under way.”
The frolic, a word the Amish used for almost any kind of work party, had been called by Mark’s uncle Isaac Bowman to clear a logjam from beneath the covered bridge. The recent rains and flooding had wedged an unusual amount of debris there, which was acting like a dam. Although the county was responsible for maintaining the bridge, the public works department was swamped with other repairs and couldn’t bring in their heavy equipment for another two weeks. With the forecast calling for more rain, flooding could threaten farms and homes on both sides of the river.
Men with chainsaws and teams of horses had been arriving for the past half hour and were now gathering on the roadway. Isaac strode up to Mark and surveyed the men around him.
“I reckon we have all the help we need to get started. I sure appreciate you coming,” Isaac said, addressing the group. “Samuel and I will oversee the men pulling logs free and getting them up to the roadway. Noah, Paul and Mark will cut and stack the usable wood beside our barn to be divided among our families. The Lord has supplied us with free firewood for the taking. We shouldn’t let it go to waste. My sons Timothy and Luke will flag down vehicles heading for the bridge to warn them we are working here.” Both men he spoke of were wearing their volunteer firefighter jackets and pants with bright fluorescent yellow banding.
Isaac turned to Mark. “There is more rope in the barn loft. Bring it with you. We may need it.” He turned back to the men. “Are there any questions?”
Everyone knew what was expected of them. The group split up, and Mark headed with his brother and his cousin toward his uncle’s barn, where the family’s draft horses were hitched to two large hay wagons. Noah looked over at Mark. “Aren’t you going to miss us?”
Mark knew what he was referring to. “Sure, I’ll miss all of you when I leave. Your whole family has been good to me.”
“But you won’t miss us enough to stay.”
“Staying here isn’t part of my plan.” Mark had learned the business of woodworking and furniture making from the ground up working alongside his uncle and his five cousins, but it was almost time to return home and put his knowledge to use and open his own business. He realized he was more upset about the uncertainty facing him now than he was about Angela’s decision not to marry him.
“Plans change,” Noah said with a wry smile. Mark knew Noah’s desire to play professional baseball had been changed by the neighbor girl across the road. Fannie and Noah had wed last fall.
Paul laid a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “My brother’s plans don’t change. He’s been talking about starting his own furniture-making business since he could talk.”
“I’m guessing it’s the girl back home that has Mark pining to leave us. Fair Angela. Paul, is she fair or is she dark-haired? Mark never talks about her.”
“I like to keep my personal life private,” Mark said before Paul could comment.
“I can respect that.” Noah nodded solemnly but couldn’t keep a straight face.
Paul chuckled. “Don’t let my brother fool you, Noah. He doesn’t have a personal life. With him, it’s all work, work, work.”
“Hard work and strong faith will supply a man with the best rewards in this life and in the next.” They were words Mark believed in.
“But will it put a pretty woman in your arms?” Paul asked, wagging his eyebrows.
Noah chuckled. “Are you ever serious?”
“Not if I can help it. Mark and Angela are the serious ones. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them laugh.”
Mark scowled at his brother. “Not everyone is a jokester like you.”
“Fannie makes me laugh all the time. I love that about her.” Noah’s gaze shifted toward the house where the women were working. A gentle smile curved his lips. It was easy to see the newlyweds were still madly in love.
Love was okay for some men, but it took more than that frail emotion to build a future. Mark wanted the security of a home and a business where he could support a family. He never wanted his children shuttled from one temporary home to another the way he had been passed from relative to relative when his father was out of work. God willing, Mark’s younger sisters and his children would never know the kind of fear he had known wondering if his father would come back for him each time he left.
Mark glanced back toward the bridge. The first logs were already on the roadway. “We should get moving. They have started without us. Where is the extra rope?”
He wouldn’t tell his brother and his cousins about Angela today. He’d wait until he knew exactly where he stood with her father.
* * *
A quarter mile past the bridge, Helen and her aunt reached the stop sign on the main road between Berlin and Winesburg. An enormous oak tree stood near the intersection. Dozens of gaily painted gourds hung from its branches. Helen stared at them in amazement. “Look at all the birdhouses. How lovely.”
Smiling, Charlotte murmured her agreement. “Very pretty. I believe Luke Bowman makes them. Turn here, dear. The Bowman lane is up ahead.”
A sign proclaiming Amish-made gifts and crafts fronted the highway in front of a low blue building. There were several cars and buggies in the parking lot dotted with mud puddles left over from the recent rain. Helen glanced at her aunt. “Do the Bowmans run a gift shop?”
“Anna does. Isaac runs the woodworking business in that building up ahead. He employs almost two dozen young men along with his sons. He ships his furniture to Englisch businesses across several states. I understand his work is much in demand. The community is grateful for his efforts to keep our young men employed, since not all of them can farm these days.”
It was a common problem in many Amish communities. Cottage industries were needed where farmland was too expensive, or urban encroachment had gobbled up land that once supported small farms. “Does Isaac hire women in his factory?”
Helen needed a way to support herself. She’d been serious when she said she wasn’t going home.
“I believe he has hired one or two for office work.”
“Full-time jobs?” Helen didn’t know anything about woodworking, but she was willing to learn.
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Helen eyed the gift shop. Maybe she could find employment there. She had worked in a fabric store for a while back home. She had retail experience.
“Park by the barn, Helen, and try to stay out of the mud. Clyde loves it. I’m delighted you will have a chance to meet so many people at this frolic. I do enjoy them, but sometimes I feel guilty visiting with my friends while we watch the men work.”
The grounds were dotted with puddles, but Helen saw a dry place to let her aunt get out. She drew the horse to stop. “Aenti, you and I have been up baking since before dawn. We have already done our work. I hope the men know it.”
“How could they? I wouldn’t want a bunch of men watching me at work in my kitchen. It’s much too small. I guess they could stand outside and look in the window.”
Helen sent up a quick prayer for a job and a place of her own as soon as possible.
Her aunt took Clyde’s face between her hands. “I’m sorry, dear friend, but you are going to have to stay on your leash until you calm down and mind your manners. I can’t have you jumping on everyone you see. Helen is going to look after you. I’ll take the hamper to the house.”
Helen got out, keeping a tight hold on the dog’s leash after noting his interest in the puddles. She glanced at the buggy top. “What about Juliet?”
Charlotte put the hamper down and stepped back to survey the top of the buggy. “Come here, dear one. She doesn’t jump on people, so she has no need for a leash.”
The plump raccoon scrambled down. A bright pink collar marked her as a pet. Charlotte picked her up and settled her in the crook of her arm, where she began purring loudly. After a moment, she climbed to the top to Charlotte’s shoulder and began patting her face and kapp.
A trio of women walked past, carrying baskets and boxes. Clyde nearly jerked Helen’s arm out of the socket as he tried to leap at them, woofing in his deep tone. Charlotte greeted the woman and walked off with them.
Helen bent to pick up the hamper of baked goods her aunt had left on the ground. As she switched Clyde’s leash to her other hand, he spotted a new victim and launched himself at a man stepping out of the barn door, ripping the lead from Helen’s hands. Her shriek wasn’t enough warning. Clyde hit the man in the back of knees and felled him like a scythed weed. Right into a puddle.
“I’m so sorry.” Helen rushed to snag Clyde’s leash before he could do more damage. Loud guffaws of laughter erupted from the two men who came to help the poor victim to his feet. When he turned around, Helen wanted to sink into the mud herself. It was Mark Bowman, the rude man from the bus. The one she narrowly missed running down ten minutes ago.
He stood and shook the mud from his hands. His eyes widened when he caught sight of her. “You! I might have known.”
“I’m sorry. He got away from me. He’s very strong.” She pulled Clyde to her side, where he sat happily with his tongue lolling, looking as innocent as only a dog can.
The men with Mark were trying to stifle their laughter without much success. He glared at them and then at her. “Has anyone told you that you’re a menace?”
Helen’s mouth dropped open. It wasn’t like she had planned to humiliate him. She fisted her hands on her hips. “Let me think. Nee, no one has mentioned it, but I’m sure someone has told you that you’re judgmental as well as rude.”
She spun on her heels and yanked on Clyde’s lead. He ambled happily beside her, occasionally stepping on his own long ears.
When she rounded the corner of the house and was sure she couldn’t be seen by him, she stopped and stared at Clyde. “This was not how I wanted to start out in a new community. I’m going to have to apologize.”
She peeked around the corner of the house. Mark was still standing with his friends. She jerked back when he looked her way. She pressed her head against the side of the house. She didn’t have the courage to return and face him.
“I don’t need to apologize, I just need to avoid him. How hard can that be?”