Lena couldn’t help once more noticing the strange tone between Rebekah and Cora Ruth. What’s so secretive about a widowed mother coming for an extended visit with her married daughter and family? Unless, thought Lena, Rebekah came to stay before her husband died . . . but why would she do that?
After finishing her coffee, Cora Ruth had all the children greet Lena and then asked if Lena might come by sometime again. “If orders slow down for Mimi, of course.”
“That’d be real nice,” Rebekah put in, surprising Lena. “Why not drop by next Wednesday? Cora Ruth’s got a doctor appointment, and I could use some help with the children.”
“I’ll see if Mimi can spare me for a while.”
Rebekah perked up like she hadn’t yet this entire visit, but Cora Ruth suddenly looked ill at ease.
On the ride home, Lena wondered why no one had mentioned whether Rebekah had initially come to visit to help Cora Ruth with the older children, before the twins’ birth. Pondering this, and Cora Ruth’s attempt to say something that Rebekah clearly rebuffed, Lena was downright curious. Was there another, more scandalous reason? But she didn’t want to think such a thing, nor would she ask Mimi about it. “Ain’t becoming of ya,” Mamma would have said.
Still, Lena couldn’t help but wonder.
CHAPTER
8
Harley turned up the collar on his black work coat against the afternoon chill, mighty thankful to already have accomplished a fair amount of work. He’d updated all the breeding records before going around the herd for several hours with his longtime vet, Roy Griffin, who’d come to test for TB and brucellosis. The work of a dairyman was nearly endless, but dairy farming was in Harley’s blood and clear back in the family tree on both sides of his and Mimi’s lineage.
Roy mentioned that he’d just come from the Mast dairy farm, where he’d seen Harley’s good friend Abram Mast. “Are you and Abram thinking of quitting farming anytime soon? Thought you might know his plans, close friends that you are,” Roy added.
Harley let out a chortle. “Oh, we’ve been kickin’ that idea around quite a lot for a couple of years now. Runnin’ a dairy farm ain’t somethin’ any man oughta do for too many years—it has a way of wearing out the body real gut.”
They talked a while longer about the toil involved, even with able farmhands. Then Roy said out of the blue that he’d seen Arden Mast down at the general store the other day. “Right during afternoon milking, too. Seemed strange.”
Now, Harley knew full well that Roy Griffin had himself a gossiping mind-set, and he never really knew what would spring from the man’s mouth. He expected that Roy wasn’t done with the matter yet, and he was right.
Roy said he’d struck up a conversation with Arden, discussing the dairy business and how he must be chomping at the bit to be a partner with his father. “But, between you and me, Arden looked less than enthused. In fact, Arden gave me the uneasiest look when I asked why he wasn’t home for milking. It made me wonder if he and the old man were at odds.”
“Nee, can’t imagine that,” Harley said now, uncomfortable with this sort of speculation. “Them two’s as close as any father and son round here, I’m sure ya know.”
“Oh, I don’t know why I said anything,” Roy said, swinging his long arms as he headed toward his parked truck. “Guess I wondered if you’d heard something about it.” He stopped walking and turned.
“Not a word,” Harley said.
They waved and parted ways, and after Roy left, Harley wondered why he seemed so interested in Abram and Arden’s business, unless maybe he was just nosy about every farmer. Harley shook his head. Who knows what he might be saying about me.
Just then, Harley saw the postal truck coming up the road. Not usually the one to get the mail, he decided to surprise Lena Rose for a change, since she typically got it these days. So he made his way down the drive to the mailbox, where he found a handful of bills, a circle letter for Mimi, and two envelopes addressed to Lena Rose, both with a Michigan postmark. Harley slipped the latter in with the rest of the mail and walked back toward the house, trying to resist being as snoopy as Roy.
But as he passed the front porch, a wave of curiosity hit him, and he looked to see if the handwriting was the same on both envelopes to Lena. Lo and behold, it was. He also couldn’t help noticing the name Mr. Hans Bontrager on the first line of the return address.
What do you know? Lena must have a beau. . . .
“How was Cora Ruth today?” Mimi looked up from hemming a dress as Lena returned and took her place in the sewing room. “Glad for her new coat?”
“Oh, you should’ve seen her. She was so pleased.”
“Well, bless your heart for doin’ that.” Mimi set down the rose-colored garment meant for a little girl. “And you must’ve had a nice visit, too.”
Lena shared about her time over there. “The children were so well-behaved they hardly made a peep. Well, except for one of the twins, who was fussy,” Lena told Mimi. “After Cora Ruth, Rebekah, and I had coffee, Cora Ruth introduced me to each of them. I even held one of the babies—such cute, tiny girls they are.”
“I’m glad ya had a nice time.”
“It was fun bein’ around the children,” Lena said, not wanting to admit how much she missed a lively house full of antics and merrymaking. “Rebekah asked if I could lend her a hand next Wednesday, when Cora Ruth goes for a checkup at the doctor’s. Would that be all right?”
“If you want to, sure.”
Mimi seemed anxious to get back to her hand sewing, not saying more about the Ebersols or Rebekah.
And as Lena worked, she knew it was just as well, lest
