Phoebe's Gift Read online

  David lowered the brim of his hat when the first rays of the sun burst over the Adirondack foothills. How could he dream of winning Phoebe’s affections? True, they were both Amish, and Phoebe had lived in the district for more than a year, but their similarities ended there. Phoebe came from a well-respected family, whose roots went deep into Lancaster. Phoebe’s two uncles and aunt added much to the stability of the young community nestled in the shadow of the Adirondacks.

  David’s father, on the other hand, had always struggled financially and kept relationships on edge. Nothing that Daett touched seemed to bring about the desired result. If Daett planted corn, the timing was always off by a week or two. If Daett mowed hay, the rains always came two days later, right when the grass was dry and ready for the baler. Daett tried, but he failed. There was nothing David could do about the matter. Because of Daett’s attitude, his family’s reputation as ne’er-do-wells was firmly established in the community.

  Ruth didn’t help matters. David’s sister hadn’t left her rumspringa when the normal time had arrived for young people to return. Ruth still dated that Englisha man, Ethan Thompson, off and on. David had done what he could. He had spoken with Ruth, but his words fell on deaf ears. He had joined the baptismal class three years ago, but that hadn’t persuaded Ruth to follow his example either. Ruth had become fully bitter over their family’s poor reputation, but leaving the community was no way to escape.

  One was what one was. Like Daett, David never got the timing right. Even if this farm venture of Grandma Lapp’s came to pass, he would be consigned to the status of Phoebe’s hired help. What romance could bloom under those circumstances, even if the thought crossed Phoebe’s mind?

  Here he was, twenty-six years old, desperately in love with a young woman who hardly knew he existed. After the funeral he had gathered the courage to approach Phoebe with Grandma Lapp’s message. He had hoped Phoebe would respond with a great burst of joy and happiness, but he should have known better. The whole project was risky. Of course he liked Grandma’s dream. He was a Fisher and used to unconventional things. What else explained his openness to the idea while stable members of the community held back?

  He would only expose himself further when he arrived this morning at Grandma’s farm uninvited. What would he say, exactly?

  “Have you made up your mind, Phoebe?”

  Or worse: “I really think you should do this, Phoebe.”

  That’s what he really wanted to say, but he felt he had no moral authority from which to speak. He really was crazy to reach for Phoebe Lapp’s affections. To think he might someday ask for her hand in marriage. To imagine he could run a proper farm and provide a stable financial base for his family. How he dreamed. He was David Fisher, the ne’er-do-well’s son. He had inherited his daett’s faults, and if not for Grandma Lapp’s kindness, he would have given up a long time ago.

  Which didn’t speak well for him. He should be a man and stand on his own two feet. Somewhere there was a woman who fit his status. He ought not reach for the impossible Phoebe Lapp.

  David kicked a stone with his shoe, and its arc went high over the ditch before disappearing in the roadside grass with a rustle. Mamm had named him David when he was born in the hopes that, like the David of old, he would grow up to slay giants and make a difference in the world. Mamm had known there were many giants to slay in their family. So far he had failed to drop even one. Maybe that was the hope that stirred. Maybe there was still time. Maybe he could persuade Phoebe that this idea of Grandma Lapp’s was the perfect venture. But considering his status, his assurance might emphasize all that was wrong about the project.

  No one consulted a Fisher on when to mow hay or plant corn. Why should a Fisher be consulted on such a weighty question? A pony farm would take the support of the whole community. His opinion on the matter had best be left in the dark.

  David kicked another stone and turned his steps into Grandma’s driveway. If the pony farm didn’t happen, this place would be sold and another Amish family would move in. But he would always remember this as Grandma Lapp’s place. This was where he had first seen Phoebe’s face, appearing like a dream that drifted up from Lancaster. On that day he had managed to hide the emotions that flooded through him.

  Phoebe hadn’t noticed because of her intense dedication to her grandmother’s care. He was so obviously beneath her. Why Phoebe wasn’t married, or had her wedding planned, he couldn’t imagine. Phoebe hadn’t even dated since her arrival in the community because all the eligible men were spoken for in the small valley.

  He was the only bachelor left!

  David glanced at the house but turned his steps toward the barn instead. He once had free access to the place, but that had changed. In the meantime, he could do the chores until something was decided. Phoebe might catch a glimpse of him from the kitchen window and expect his arrival at the front door later. He didn’t dare head straight to the house.

  David pushed open the barn door and entered. The cobwebs had been swept clean since he had been here last. Phoebe must have taken on the task now that she was freed from Grandma’s care. Phoebe certainly wouldn’t sit around with idle hands. David found the broom propped up in the corner with its straws askew.

  A smile filled his face. Phoebe must have attacked the cobwebs with a fury to leave the broom in such a condition. Maybe she had been mortified that the task hadn’t been completed before the funeral. Hundreds of mourners had been through the place, and a messy barn was always a disgrace. Maybe his family wasn’t the only one who did things off schedule. Of course, Phoebe had a perfect excuse, but the Fishers usually didn’t. David had been down here many times over the last year, and he could have taken the work on himself, but not once had the thought occurred to him.

  He hurried on and whistled to the ponies at the back barn door. They perked their ears up and came toward him at a fast trot. He held out his hand. They nuzzled him and whinnied.

  David chuckled. “I can’t be spoiling you anymore, I’m afraid.” A moment later he gave in. “Maybe just this once.”

  He retreated into the barn to fill a bucket with oats. Back outside, he held up the offering to each one in turn. They took greedy mouthfuls and munched with contented swishes of their tails.

  “Enough now,” David warned as he pulled the bucket back. All three of them followed him to the barn door, but he held them back before he slipped inside and closed the gate. Loud whinnies of protest filled the building, and he reached out to pat them on their heads.

  David jumped when Phoebe spoke from behind him. “Spoiling the ponies, I see.”

  “I…” He searched for words.

  Her smile was kind. “I’m just teasing. I’ve grown quite close to them myself.” Phoebe reached over the gate to brush their long manes. “No more treats,” she told them. “Enough for one day.”

  They seemed to understand and trotted back toward the pasture. David watched them go, keeping Phoebe in his side vision. Her beauty was even more pronounced this morning. She hadn’t put her hair up yet, but had it wrapped in a handkerchief with stray strands all over her face. He had never seen her like this, nor had she spent time with the ponies when he was around.

  “I named them.” She sent another smile in his direction.

  “So you…you are…you are moving forward with the pony farm?” The question burst out.

  Her smile left. “I don’t know yet, but I did name them.”

  “And what would those names be?”

  “I named the white one Snow Cloud.” She glanced at David. “Do you like that?”

  He forced a smile. “That’s perfect. She is like a snow cloud.”

  “Yah, that’s what I thought. I named the brown one with the white face and tail Aladdin after the ancient tale of the rubbed lamp.”

  David suppressed his astonishment. “You have read that book?”

  “Why do you ask? Do you think it’s inappropriate for an Amish girl? A wild—”

  “Of co
urse not,” he quickly assured her. “It’s just that I’ve never seen this side of you. That’s adventurous.”

  “I guess I am adventurous. Well, I used to be.” Phoebe made a face. “I’ve not been adventurous for many years.”

  “But you came up from Lancaster to care for Grandma Lapp, and now you’re considering this pony farm.”

  “I guess so,” she said, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “Do you still like the idea?”

  He drew his breath in slowly before he answered. “I think you ought to honor your grandma’s wishes.”

  “Do you think Grandma thought me capable of this?”

  “I think you are capable of anything you set your mind to.”

  “Oh.”

  He looked away. “I trust your grandma.”

  A smile crept across her face. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

  So you’re doing this? The words almost slipped out. “And what is the last pony’s name?” he asked instead.

  A dreamy look had settled on Phoebe’s face. “I settled on Lady for the other brown-and-white one. Do you like that?”

  “I do. A lot.”

  She leaned on the gate as she looked at the distant ponies. “It would seem such a shame not to do what Grandma wanted.”

  He waited and said nothing.

  “But I’ve never done anything like this before, and Uncle Homer and Uncle Noah aren’t sure I’m up to it. They aren’t even sure if the venture would serve the purposes of the community. What do you think?”

  “Why are you asking me?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze from the barnyard dirt.

  “Because you would be a part of this whole thing. Didn’t Grandma hire you?”

  “She did. I like the idea very much, but maybe I should send Ruth up with her Englisha boyfriend. They could explain everything to you. Maybe that would help with the decision making?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “I suppose that would be the place to begin, but I have to be honest, David. I need some clear direction beyond what the Englisha have to say. If you have any suggestions, please share them with me.”

  He kept his head down. “I will do so if I have some.” What did a Fisher have to say that would be clear direction? “I only know that I am very interested in the project.”

  “That’s means a lot. At least I know you would be fully on my side.”

  He tried to breathe evenly. She was on board. He had known she would be. “I will speak with Ruth and schedule a meeting.”

  She smiled. “And now I’d best get busy with my day.”

  “And I should get home. There’s lots of Saturday chores.”

  “As there always are,” she agreed as she followed him out of the barn.

  He left her at the end of the walk with a quick glance in her direction, but Phoebe was on her way to toward the house with her head bowed and her loose hair strewn back over her shoulder. David pulled his gaze away and plunged his hands in his pockets to march resolutely down the road. Somehow this must work. But how? In the meantime, he loved the woman way too much, and that had no solution either.

  SIX

  Ruth Fisher paused on the front porch. She’d had an ulterior motive when she agreed to David’s request, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “David!” she hollered. “We are going to speak with Phoebe now!”

  David appeared from around the corner of the house with a worried look. “I know we went over all this yesterday evening, but please make sure Phoebe has all the facts. This has to work. Be sure you cast everything in the best light. I know you will, but this is important to me.”

  Ruth forced a smile. “You are way overwrought. Grandma Lapp was a kind woman, but she’s gone. To expect Phoebe to simply step into her shoes is a little much.”

  David’s concerned look grew. “That’s what I mean. Don’t say anything negative, Ruth. Don’t even think it. Phoebe is…” He waved his hand about. “You know Grandma wanted this. She probably would have proceeded with your idea already if she hadn’t become ill.”

  Ruth regarded him for a moment. “I know that, but it’s not your problem. You have more up your sleeve than a simple concern for her pony farm.”

  He looked away.

  “Phoebe’s not really worth it,” Ruth continued. “Take my word for it. You should try what I’m doing.”

  “See, there you go again. Please, Ruth. For my sake. I don’t want you messing this up just because you don’t think…”

  She shrugged. “I’ll do this for you anyway. And this was my idea originally, so why can’t I defend it? Look what I’ve done already.” Ruth motioned toward the lane, where an automobile turned into the Fishers’ driveway. “I didn’t ask Ethan to come, but rather his boss, Mrs. Broman. That way Phoebe will not…” Ruth left the sentence unfinished. “But I won’t allow the community’s rejection of Ethan to color this matter.”

  “Thank you,” David replied, but he didn’t appear convinced.

  “I have to go.”

  The truth was, she had her own motives for her continued involvement in the pony farm. Ethan’s opinion of her was at the heart of her effort this morning. He hadn’t proposed after two years of off and on dating. Something held Ethan back. If she brought this deal to fruition, Ethan might see that not all Amish were Neanderthals from another time and place. He might fully open his heart to her and consider her worthy of a place at his side as his wife.

  She had so much to overcome when it came to Ethan. The community had slighted her family since her childhood, and though she had only completed the eighth grade, Ethan had a college degree. But she loved the man. She could cook and sew and do a hundred other things any Amish housewife did. The problem was, an Amish homemaker wasn’t what Ethan wanted. He came from another world with other priorities, none of which she had been trained to do. On this point Ethan was correct. She was a hopeless Neanderthal who couldn’t find her way home in anything but a horse and buggy. David was happy in his world as a ne’er-do-well Fisher, but she was not. She wanted more than what the community offered.

  Ruth pasted on a bright smile as she approached the automobile. She greeted Mrs. Broman with a cheery, “Goot morning. It’s so nice of you to do this for us.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Mrs. Broman assured her. “I’ve known that Ethan was working on this project for some time, and I was honored when he asked if I would make the pitch to young Ms. Lapp. Her grandmother just died, right?”

  “Yah.” Ruth opened the car door and hopped in. “She passed away last week. A very godly woman Grandma Lapp was, with a heart for people in need.” She almost added, for people like the Fishers. But Ruth clamped her mouth shut.

  “That is so encouraging to hear. The care the Amish show their own people is legendary. Who hasn’t heard about their barn raisings and other community projects?”

  Daett appeared momentarily at the barn door as Mrs. Broman turned the car around in the driveway. Mrs. Broman waved, and Daett retreated after a feeble swing of his hand. “Your father,” Mrs. Broman stated more than asked.

  “Yep!” Ruth forced a cheerful chirp. Thankfully Daett wasn’t involved in this deal, or its doom would be sealed. He never got anything right and disagreed with everything.

  “What does your father think about this proposed project?” Mrs. Broman asked as she accelerated north on Burrell Road.

  “Oh, Daett isn’t involved,” Ruth said.

  “But isn’t everyone included in everything? Isn’t that how the community works?”

  “If it’s a community project, yah, but this…” Ruth waved her hand. “This is more of a family affair—the Lapp family, that is. My brother and I are involved because we knew Grandma Lapp. But Daett…” Ruth stopped. Her chattering didn’t convince anyone, but she still smiled brightly.

  Mrs. Broman appeared skeptical. “You know we’d have to inspect the farm. There would also be forms and reports to fill out and schooling for the person in charge. I hope the community wouldn’t object to
government involvement.”

  “Oh, my brother is a solid church member, and he can do things like that,” Ruth hurried to say. “He’ll be working on the proposed farm full-time, and he enjoys that type of thing.” Which could be true. She wasn’t sure. David would enjoy anything if it kept him in the vicinity of Phoebe Lapp. “If the Lapp family approves the project, the community will approve,” she finished.

  “I’m just bringing up the point to emphasize the difficulties—”

  “There’s the driveway,” Ruth interrupted. “You can tell Phoebe all of your concerns. I’m sure she’ll have answers, but I don’t want to speak out of turn.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Broman said as she parked beside the Lapp barn. “Is this an okay spot, do you think?” She glanced around as if she expected an assault from a team of horses or bearded men. Daett hadn’t made a goot impression on the woman when they’d met, but what was surprising about that?

  “There’s Phoebe on the front porch now.” Ruth jumped out of the vehicle, and Mrs. Broman followed slowly. Phoebe came down to the bottom of the porch steps to meet them.

  “Goot morning.” Phoebe greeted them with a nervous smile. “I’m Phoebe.”

  “And a good morning to you,” Mrs. Broman returned. “I’m Wauneta. Are you expecting us?”

  “Yah, come on inside.” Phoebe turned to lead the way. “It is very kind of you to come and explain things to this ignorant Amish girl.”

  Don’t say that, Ruth mouthed in Phoebe’s direction, but Phoebe didn’t seem to notice.

  Mrs. Broman smiled. “I’m glad to hear of your interest in this project. You will do your grandmother proud, no doubt. This was her dream, correct?”

  “Yah, Grandma Lapp. I cared for her this past year. She was dear to all of us.” Phoebe ushered them through the front door and then motioned toward the couch. “If you will be seated, I’ll get coffee. Or I could prepare hot chocolate if you prefer.”

  “Coffee’s fine,” Mrs. Broman replied as she made herself comfortable.

  Ruth followed Phoebe into the kitchen, where they placed cups, sugar, and creamer on a tray. Phoebe led the way back to the living room with the coffeepot in her hand, and they set everything on a small table in front of the couch.