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Ruby pulled two loaves of bread from her oven. It still amazed her at the small amounts she could cook in the regular-sized oven in the dawdi haus. She spent years making ten loaves at a time in her professional sized oven on the other side of the wall at the Farm Stay. The large oven held them all. But then, she owned the business before she signed it over to her son, Matthew. The business was what the Englisch called a Bed and Breakfast. Amish country life was different.
She dumped the hot bread out on cooling racks and looked at the clock by the door leading outside. It was already six-thirty. The entrance of the house opened into her kitchen. There was another door over near the small kitchen table. The kitchen area was only big enough for two chairs around the table. Through the doorway were the living room, a hallway that led to the two bedrooms, and a bathroom between them.
How had the years passed so quickly? Now, she was the older person living in the grandparent's house. She was only thirty-six! Her son married Hannah Fisher, the girl next door, a few months ago, and she could become a mammi very soon.
She had enough time to gather the eggs before straightening herself and going to David Fisher’s place. This morning, she made the two loaves of bread for Matthew and Hannah. Some days, she made more loaves, depending on how many guests they expected. Poor Hannah could not bake no matter how many times she tried.
Thankfully, Ruby’s Englisch friend Carly lived at the farm stay in her suite upstairs. She was a fabulous baker and kept the business in biscuits, muffins, pies, anything she fancied baking.
The linoleum covered floor squeaked under her feet when she walked across the living room. She appreciated living there, but it was hard staying by herself. Sure, she still ran the store at the front of the property, and she met many people each day, but it was not the same. She missed her old life.
Ruby pulled her cloak off the peg and put it around her knowing the morning was colder than yesterday. She picked up her egg basket and hoped the eggs kept warm and didn’t freeze. They would need to move the chickens back to the barn for the winter. They did well in the hay bales stored inside and stayed warm once inside. Right now, the chickens lived in the wagon that could be moved about the farm as needed for their ranging. A side benefit came when the chickens were in the house garden as they kept the bugs down.
The move to the barn would be harder on her and Hannah trying to find the hens new spots for the eggs. The time inside would also make some of them start to brood. Ruby enjoyed seeing the clutch of eggs. The new chicks will be laying their eggs by summer.
As she entered the gate to the fenced enclosure, the hefty, beautiful blue-black Australorp rooster came racing across the yard to challenge her presence. Ruby stopped, she stood her ground and confronted him. She stomped her foot to match his dancing threat towards her. Ruby felt thankful that he finally moved away, but not without calling out and ruffling his feathers out to look even more prominent. “If you were not such a good protector of your hens, I would make a huge stew out of you, so stop growling at me.”
More than once, the brute had come at her with his talons, which he used to kill anything that tried to get his hens, from snakes to the hunters in the area. Thankfully, the big guard finally settled down as she forgot to bring the broom with her, and the bird intimidated her without it.
Ruby filled the basket that she would take to the Fishers. The extra trade goods they received for the eggs always helped.
Finally, she was ready to leave for the Fishers, eggs, and some jam in the basket.
Her friend, Carly, told her to get out and about to find a man. `Get married and start life again.’ How could she? A widow with a grown son was not a desirable catch. Most widowers in the area were older, in their sixties or even older. She shuddered. Nee, they would not do. She would just stay single, and if Gott made other plans for her, she prayed he would show her the way.
Tucking a stray red hair back into her kapp, she smiled at herself in the small mirror.
The only man her age she found charming was David Fisher, but they were only friends. The thoughts of him brought a flip in her stomach. She liked him, yes, as a friend, but more. Much more.
Pulling the door shut behind her, she smiled, wondering if the two of them would discover feelings for each other.
*~*
RUBY WORKED FOR DAVID Fisher, so she did not have to knock. She opened the front door and walked into the room and heard female voices at the back of the house, the sound carrying from the kitchen to her. She worked in David’s office three days a week. Placing the mail on the table near the door, Ruby walked through the living room toward the kitchen to unload her basket. The voices became louder the closer she came, and she recognized one voice as Mrs. Guthrie’s. She had no idea with whom she was arguing. Only knowing it was another woman. And why was her mild-mannered friend fighting with anyone?
“Mrs. Guthrie, what is going on here?” Ruby asked as she marched into the kitchen. The room filled with light from a large window bank but tension-filled the kitchen with a dark atmosphere.
“She...she...she...” Mrs. Guthrie’s words stumbled. Tossing her hands in the air as a show of frustration, she then took a deep breath and continued. “Susan wants to give the muffins she made to Mr. David. I told her he was not here, but she will not believe me.”
Ruby watched her friend’s chocolate-colored glare aim toward a girl in her mid-twenties standing by the sink. Susan Lantz. Mrs. Guthrie’s stare hit the mark. Susan was beautiful with her thick, blond, curly hair that refused to stay in her kapp. Also, she was a wisp of a thing, short and slender. Regretfully, these attributes were the only positive things to enter her mind.
Susan gasped as if she physically felt the dirty look Mrs. Guthrie sent her way. “I don’t know why you're so mean to me. I only wanted to be nice to David.” her bottom lip trembled, and tears filled her baby blue eyes.
“And you said explicitly not to let the children or Mrs. Troyer have a muffin. You are the one being mean, not me. Set your basket down, and I will see that Mr. Fisher receives your gift. I believe you have overstayed your welcome here.”
Susan tossed the basket haphazardly on the table, stomped her foot, and jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. Her fake tears dried as quickly as they began. She acted as if an injustice offended her. Spinning around, Susan stomped to the door leading to the mudroom. Throwing it open, she let it bang against the wall. Finally, she opened the door leading outside, walked through it and slammed it shut, making the windows rattle in their sashes.
“For gracious sakes! I have heard about her antics, but to see her in action makes the gossip seem tame!” Ruby shook her head. “Are you alright?”
“I am now that she is gone.”
Mrs. Guthrie and Ruby stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but indeed, it could not have been over ten seconds. Their faces broke into smiles, and suddenly, they were laughing hysterically.
When she could finally catch her breath, Ruby muttered, “I guess Miriam had a good point, she wished Susan would return home to where she belonged.” The words started them laughing, once again. They laughed at the girl’s expense, which was as non-Amish as the behavior of the girl in question.