change of pace was welcome after the arduous days of woodcutting. Jonathan took his turn at cul- tivating, too, and when the potatoes were once again weed- free, the corn patch fell under curved blades.
Mary was feeling the strain. It was easy enough for her to say she must reconcile herself to her life with Jonathan, but her mind slipped too often into memories of Aaron. She worked hard, using work as an antidote for depression. She hoed the garden, pinched the tops of the newly sprigged seedlings of vegetables and annual flowers, that pinching of stems tinting her thumb green, that 'green thumb' making the garden thrive. But this year she seemed to find less satis- faction in gardening. The strawberries were already ripe, and she put up the first of her summer preserves, putting aside several special jars to give to her cousin Catherine for her wedding. Not even the thought of the upcoming wedding celebration could lift her spirits. Most days, the hard, hot work was wearying, and she felt it wear her down long before the day ended. Sometimes the chore of canning seemed too enormous a task for her to handle. It was a small amount of work compared to what would follow when the bulk of the garden crops matured, but that didn't seem the way of it as the berries continued to ripen and needed daily picking if they weren't to be sacrificed to the birds. She had tried picking the partially ripened berries and holding them in the cellar for a few days, but it made even more work because they reddened at varying times and necessitated an extra sorting and handling each day. They ate as many fresh berries with cream as they could, but still more needed putting up.
She had spent a sickening, hot morning in the berry patch, squatting and stooping until the sun and the posture made her dizzy. When she fi nally finished picking and went to wash the berries at the barnyard well, the icy water was pure, sweet relief as she dunked her wrists into it. Then she took the berries up to the house and sat at the kitchen table to pick their green caps off during the time remaining before dinner. The house was quiet, and outside sounds were soothing. Here inside the kitchen the strawberries made a pinging sound as they hit the bottom of the dishpan.
It was times like these, lax times when her guard was down, that Mary's thoughts strayed to Aaron. They seemed to move apace with the pinging berries. You know there can be no more between us, Aaron, she thought, so why don't you go off down to the hall Saturday nights anymore? If you went, and I know you should, do you know how it would break my heart? But I have no right to you, nor you to me, so why continue salving so deep a wound when we both know that a swift cauterizing is what it needs? Did you know the lines are as deep as scars between your eyes these days? Your daddy's smile and teasing are gone from you, and I cannot reach to smooth away the worry from your face as I once did.
Jonathan and Aaron had spent a morning of near-misery digging holes for the posts and setting them in under the hot sun. They were more than ready for a good, refreshing meal and a sit-down afterward. Coming in the back door to the kitchen, they saw Mary slumped over the kitchen table with one limp arm sprawled across the oilcloth and her cheek resting on it. Fear flashed through both men simultaneously, and they exclaimed at the same time: 'Oh, God…' 'Mary…'
Both men were at her side in the second it took to jump from the doorway to her chair. It happened that Aaron gained the side toward which her head was turned, and he saw her slack mouth pushed distortedly against the table-top, opened slightly. A very small, very delicate snore snuffled from her half-flattened nostrils. Her right hand was in a kettle of strawberries on her lap, and her left rested against a dishpan on the table near her head. 'She's sleeping, Jonathan,' Aaron said as soon as he recog- nized the fact. Seeing her there like that, Aaron had a sudden flash of beautiful memory of her asleep in his bed. Too beautiful! He stepped back and let Jonathan awaken her, going to the sink to wash up so he wouldn't have to watch the two of them together.
To his amazement, the first utterance from her as she woke was, 'Aaron?' He began working the pump handle to create some diversion in the room, so he didn't hear his brother's reply.
They had an unusually quiet lunch that day, the only real talking done by Mary, who repeatedly apologized for the second-rate meal she slammed together in lieu of hot food. At the end of the meal she promised them a hot supper, but food was not really uppermost in their minds. Both men were hearing again Aaron's name as Mary had murmured it in her half-conscious state. It was the nearest thing to an endearment that Aaron had heard since she'd told him she loved him in the rainy granary. It was the only hint Jonathan had that he might have been right. Mary knew she'd been dreaming of Aaron when Jonathan woke her up, and was glad that dreams could be perceived by nobody but the dreamer. She didn't remember reaching out a caressing hand to Jonathan's face as she spoke Aaron's name.
13
The end of June was nearing. This was the last time of comparative restfulness before the onslaught of long harvest- ing hours. It was a time that lent itself well to weddings. The entire township was looking forward to Catherine Garner's and Michael Garek's wedding, for everyone was invited. Mary looked forward to it with relief, for it would bring re- laxation that she sorely needed.
During the week preceding the great day, she imagined all the activity going on at the Garner house and offered to help Aunt Mabel with the preparations, but the red-faced woman shook her head, wattles rippling beneath her chin, and bellowed, 'You done enough for me in years past, girl, and I got a tribe of my own to crack the whip to. You stay home and take care of those two big louts of yours, and don't show your face at my place until you're ready to have yourself a proper fling!' Appealing to her cousin Catherine did no good, either, for Mabel Garner would have her way, so Mary's help was refused.
But the entire Garner family was put to work for days. While Aunt Mabel and the girls cooked and baked, Uncle Garner and the boys prepared makeshift dinner tables and benches, which would seat the crowd in the farmyard. Also constructed was a wooden platform to serve as an open-air dance floor. Those too busy helping in the kitchen on a wedding day often returned on the next evening to take their enjoyment on the dance floor. If it rained, the dancing would be held either in the partially empty hayloft or in the living room of the house. Mabel Garner said she'd be damned if any of her neighbors found a cobweb or smatter of dust behind her furniture, and she pushed her brood of children to work cleaning the already spotless house. But for once they didn't mind because their mother, though an exacting taskmistress, was in the height of good humor.
Across Moran Township, men hurried through their chores before cleaning up and dressing for the long- awaited event. Some of these looked forward to the rarity of being excused from evening chores, having arranged for neighboring youngsters to tend these for them. Failing this, for most of the youngsters would also be attending the festivities, many hoped to convince some young lad to leave the regaling at dusk, long enough to do the chores. As the day progressed and kegs of beer were consumed by the men, they would become generous. Many a lad would end the day with a well- greased palm in return for taking care of someone's evening chores.
Mary wore the yellow dimity dress again, and although she kept her hair in the familiar knotted coil, she wore it pushed higher on her head, sweeping it back from her center part rather than down over her ears. She left Jonathan closing the kitchen windows and door and walked toward the rig. Aaron jumped down to hand her up. She'd pulled on only her left glove. He reached out to take her bare right hand, and as he did so, his back was to the house, shielding her from Jonathan's view. He brushed her hand with his lips, and with a relaxed smile, said, 'Mary girl, you look beautiful.'
She withdrew her hand as if it had been burned, and quickly pulled her glove on. I've been doing so well all these weeks, she thought. I won't let my resolve slip now. Still, Aaron's manner held a trace of his old brotherliness, so she put on her own old way and responded, 'Likewise, sir. The groom himself might feel overshadowed.' Then she jumped up into the carriage seat. And everything seemed okay between the two of them again.
Jonathan could hear them bantering as he approached the rig. 'I know what's in the fruit jars I carried out, but what's in the other package under the seat, Mary?' 'It's the bean jar I had you and Jonathan buy last week when you went to town.' 'Isn't that just like a woman? Here I've been expecting a mess of pork and beans to show up in that pot on our dinner table, but instead, I find it wrapped for another man's table.' 'And isn't it just like a man to buy a wedding gift and ex- pect to try it out before he gives it away?' she rejoined.
Their laughter seemed genuine, and Jonathan joined in, thinking how good it was that they were all in a good humor again. It seemed as if there'd been too little laughter the last few weeks. He refrained from thinking of the
