Dear to Me Read online

  A vision of Melinda’s pretty face popped into Gabe’s mind. Her golden blond hair and clear blue eyes were enough to turn any man’s head. He had been interested in her since they were both children. But it wasn’t just Melinda’s pretty face that had made him fall in love with her. It was Melinda’s spunky attitude and zest for living he found so appealing. She had always been adventurous, wanting to explore new things and eager to learn all she could about birds and animals. Gabe still remembered how nervous he had felt months ago when he’d asked her stepfather for permission to court her.

  The cowbell hanging by a rope on the front door jangled, and Gabe looked up, his musings halted.

  Melinda’s stepfather, Noah Hertzler, entered the room. “Wie geht’s? How’s business?”

  “I’m doing well, and so is the business. How’s your job at the Christmas tree farm?”

  “We’ve been keeping plenty busy.” Noah looked around. “Where’s your daed? Is he around someplace?”

  “He went to Seymour to pick up some supplies. Probably won’t be back for a few hours yet.”

  Noah chuckled. “If I know Stephen, he’s having lunch at his favorite burger place.”

  “No doubt, but I don’t know why Pap would choose fast food over barbecued ribs, baked beans, or hillbilly chili.”

  “I have to agree, but each to his own.”

  “Jah. Everyone has different likes and dislikes.” Gabe moved over to the desk in the center of the room. “What can I help you with, Noah?”

  “Thought I’d see if you could make a birdhouse for me to give Melinda for her nineteenth birthday next month.”

  Gabe inwardly groaned. There went his plans for Melinda’s special birthday present. He didn’t have the nerve to tell Noah that he had intended to give her a combination birdhouse-feeder. Now he would have to come up with something else to make for Melinda. Maybe he could whittle a miniature fawn, since she seemed so taken with the deer that lived in the woods behind their place.

  “I’m sure I can have a birdhouse done for you in time for Melinda’s birthday,” Gabe said. “Is there a particular size or color you’d like it to be?”

  Noah shook his head. “You’re the expert; I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Gabe smiled. He liked being called an expert. Most folks who came into their shop thought Pap was the professional woodworker, and many saw Gabe as merely his dad’s apprentice. Someday, though, Gabe hoped to have his own place of business, and then nobody could think of him as an amateur in training.

  Noah leaned against the desk and visited while Gabe wrote up the work order. “You think you’ll take over this shop when your daed’s ready to retire?” he asked.

  Gabe looked up. “I’m not sure. I might want to go out on my own some day.” He covered his mouth with the palm of his hand. “My daed doesn’t know of my plans, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to him about it.”

  Noah shook his head. “It’s not my place to do the telling.”

  Gabe breathed a sigh of relief. Did Melinda know how fortunate she was to have such a nice man as her stepfather? I wouldn’t mind having Noah for my father-in-law, he mused. That is, if I ever get up the nerve and find the right time to ask Melinda to marry me.

  Chapter 2

  How come we had to bake so many pies today?” Melinda asked her mother after Grandma Stutzman and Aunt Susie left for home. “Won’t some of the other women be bringing desserts on Sunday?”

  “It was your grandma’s idea to have a pie social after church, and she wanted to furnish all the pies,” Mama said as they finished cleaning the kitchen. She handed Melinda a sponge and pointed to the table, where streaks of flour and globs of gooey pie filling stuck to the oilcloth covering.

  Melinda gave the table a thorough cleaning then dropped the mess into the garbage can under the sink. “If church is going to be at Grandpa and Grandma’s, why did we do the baking over here and not at their house?”

  “Melinda, weren’t you listening when I told you this before?” Mama asked in an exasperated tone.

  Melinda shrugged. “I—I guess not.”

  “Your daed’s busy with other things today, and I didn’t want to leave Grandpa Hertzler alone in the daadihaus all day with his memory not being so good. No telling what might happen if he were left by himself for any length of time.”

  “That’s right,” Melinda’s eleven-year-old brother, Isaiah, said as he came up behind their mother. “Remember the last time we left Grandpa alone in the grandfather house while we went to Bass Pro Shops in Springfield? When we got home, he wasn’t there, and we found him down the road at the schoolhouse.” The boy snickered. “I still can’t get over seein’ Grandpa on one of them swings, talkin’ to Grandma like she was right there.”

  “Grandpa’s memory loss is no laughing matter, Isaiah. Your daed and I are watching him closely, and if he gets any worse, we’ll take him to see a specialist in Springfield.” Mama shooed Isaiah away with the cotton dish towel she held in one hand. “Now get back outside and see that the rest of the wood is chopped before your daed gets home.”

  “Okay, I’m goin’.” Isaiah grabbed a handful of peanut butter cookies from the ceramic jar on the cupboard then headed out the back door.

  “That boy,” Mama muttered as she ran water into the sink. “It’ll be a miracle if I’m not fully gray by the time he’s grown and married.”

  “If he can ever find a wife who’ll put up with him.” Melinda thought her young brother was a bit spoiled. The fact that Mama wasn’t able to have any more children after Isaiah had been born could account for the fact that she didn’t always get after the boy the way she should. At least that’s how Melinda saw it.

  “Isaiah’s young yet,” Mama said. “There’s still plenty of time for him to grow into the kind of man a woman would want to marry.”

  Melinda’s thoughts went to Gabe, the way they usually did whenever the subject of marriage came up. Was he the man she would marry? She cared deeply for him, but what would happen to their relationship if she left the Amish faith to become a veterinarian? Would he understand her desire to care for animals in a more professional way? Of course, she hadn’t made up her mind yet about going English. There was a lot to think on and a good deal of planning to do if she did decide to pursue a career in veterinary medicine.

  Pushing her thoughts aside, Melinda glanced at her mother, engrossed in the job of washing dishes. Mama’s once shiny blond hair had turned darker, and a few streaks of gray showed through. Even so, she seemed youthful and full of energy. Mama had a zest for living, often telling jokes and yodeling whenever the mood hit. Of course, this usually happened when Grandpa Stutzman wasn’t around. He found yodeling an annoyance, even though many Amish in their community liked to yodel.

  “Did you read your Bible this morning?” Mama asked.

  Melinda sucked in her lower lip, searching for words that wouldn’t be a lie. She hadn’t been doing her devotions regularly for sometime, even though she knew she should. “I’ll do it this evening before bed,” she promised.

  “I have found that in order to stay close to God, I need to spend time with Him in prayer and Bible reading,” Mama went on to say.

  “I feel close to God when I’m out in the woods.”

  “That may be, but spending time in nature is not the same as reading God’s Word.”

  “I know, and I’ll read some verses tonight.”

  “Jah, okay. In the meantime, would you check on that last pie we’ve got baking?”

  Melinda set the sponge on the table and went to open the oven door. When she looked inside, it appeared as if the apple crumb pie was done. Just to be certain, she poked the tip of a knife through the middle. “The apples seem tender enough, so I think it’s ready,” she announced. “I’m sure it won’t be nearly as good as the ones Papa Noah bakes, though.” She pulled two pot holders from a drawer and carefully lifted the pie from the oven. “Should I turn the propane off?”

  �
��Go ahead. I won’t need the stove again until supper time.”

  Melinda set the pie on top of the stove while she turned the knob on the propane tank. She was thankful her folks didn’t use a woodstove for cooking the way some Amish in their community did. Wood cooking was too hot to her liking, and it could be dangerous.

  Melinda remembered once when she was young how her mother had caught the kitchen rug on fire after a piece of wood fell out of the firebox. Fortunately, Mama had been able to throw the rug and the wood outside before anything else caught fire. The whole kitchen had become a smoky mess, and Mama’s cake had been ruined. Melinda had been forced to sit outside in the cold until the smoke cleared.

  Melinda picked up the pie again and started across the room. While it cooled on the kitchen table, she planned to go out to the barn and check on the baby goat that had been born a few days ago.

  She’d only made it halfway to the table when the back door swung open and Isaiah rushed into the room, all red-faced and sweaty. “My dog broke free from his chain again, and he’s chasin’ chickens all over the yard!”

  Before either Mama or Melinda could respond, Hector, Melinda’s favorite rooster, flew into the house, squawking all the way. Isaiah’s hound dog, Jericho, followed, nipping at Hector’s tail feathers. The rooster screeched and flapped his wings, and the two animals darted in front of Melinda, causing her to stumble. The pie flipped out of her hands and landed upside down on the floor with a splat.

  Jericho screeched to a halt and sniffed the apple filling. The critter must have realized it was too hot to eat, for he let out an ear-piercing howl and ducked under the table. Hector crowed raucously as he strutted around the room, and Isaiah stood howling.

  “Ach!” Mama shouted. “Get those creatures out of my kitchen!”

  Melinda didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The pie was ruined, and Hector could have gotten hurt, but the whole thing really was kind of funny. “You’d better get your dog,” she told her brother. “After I clean up this mess, I’ll take Hector outside and put him in the chicken coop.”

  “Better yet, I’ll clean the floor, and you can take the rooster out now,” Mama said sharply.

  Melinda frowned. “It wasn’t Hector’s fault Jericho broke his chain and chased the poor bird.”

  Mama tapped her foot. “I don’t care who was at fault. We have one less pie now and a big mess to clean.”

  Melinda bent down and scooped Hector into her arms. Isaiah grabbed his dog by the collar, and they both hurried out the door.

  “As much as I like animals,” Melinda muttered, “I have no use for that mutt of yours. He’s dumber than dirt.”

  “Is not,” her brother retorted. “Why, I’ll have you know that the roof of Jericho’s mouth is really dark, which means he’s a smart one.”

  “That’s probably just an old wives’ tale you heard somewhere.”

  “Maybe it’s not. Why don’t you see what the vet has to say about it?”

  Melinda shook her head. “I’m not going to bother Dr. Franklin with something so silly.”

  “It’s not silly, and it’ll prove once and for all that Jericho’s not dumm.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Melinda muttered. Didn’t her little brother realize she had a lot more on her mind than finding out if the color of a dog’s mouth meant it was smart or dumb?

  “What happened in here?” Noah asked when he entered the kitchen and found his wife down on her knees with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water, scrubbing away at a sticky mess on the floor.

  Faith looked up at him and groaned. “My mamm and Susie were here earlier, and we baked some pies. But now, thanks to Melinda’s dumm hinkel and Isaiah’s spirited hund, we have one less pie to share during the social after preaching service tomorrow.”

  Noah hung his hat on the nearest wall peg. “Do I want to know why one of the chickens was in the house?”

  “Isaiah was coming inside, and when he opened the door, the chicken ran in with Jericho right behind him. They had quite a tussle, and then they got in front of Melinda, causing her to stumble and drop one of the pies on my clean kitchen floor.”

  Noah bit back a chuckle. He could only imagine the disastrous scene. With all the critters Melinda had running around, something silly always seemed to be happening at their house these days.

  “Do you think what happened here was funny?” Faith asked, tipping her head back and staring up at him with a pinched expression.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “I am?”

  She nodded. “I don’t see anything funny about this mess or about losing that pie.”

  “Would you like me to bake the replacement pie?” he asked, kneeling beside Faith. “I can make one quick as a wink.”

  “I know you can, and if you’re sure you’ve got the time, I’d appreciate you doing that for me.”

  Noah reached out and tweaked the end of her nose. “For you, schee fraa, I’ve always got the time.”

  She grunted. “I’m glad you think I’m your pretty wife, but I don’t feel so pretty right now.”

  “To me, you’ll always be pretty.” Noah patted her arm and rose to his feet. “Say, where are those two kinner of ours anyway?”

  “Isaiah’s supposed to be tying up his dog, and I assume Melinda’s putting Hector back in the chicken coop like I asked her to do.” Faith’s pale eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “Of course, she should have been back by now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s camped out in the barn, fooling with one of her animals.”

  “If she’s not back by the time I get the pie put in the oven, I’ll go check on her,” Noah said as he grabbed one of Faith’s choring aprons and tied it around his waist. No point in getting flour all over his trousers. He was just glad his dad was over at the daadihaus and wasn’t here to see him wearing Faith’s apron or making a pie. Even though Pop had relaxed his attitude some on men working in the kitchen, he still had no understanding of Noah’s desire to cook and bake.

  “How was your day?” Melinda asked when her stepfather entered the barn and found her kneeling in the straw beside the new baby goat. “Did you get everything done that you wanted to do?”

  He nodded. “I worked the first half of the day at the tree farm; then I stopped by Swartz’s Woodworking Shop around noon. After that, I ran some other errands.”

  “Did you see Gabe?”

  “Sure did. He was working alone at the shop because his daed had to go to Seymour.”

  Melinda was tempted to ask if Gabe had mentioned her, but she thought better of it. If Papa Noah knew how much she cared for Gabe, he’d probably tease her the way he did Mama whenever she was in one of her silly moods.

  Melinda stroked the goat behind its ears as she thought about how sweet Gabe had been to her on the way home from the last young people’s gathering. He’d asked if she was cold, and when she said, “Jah, just a bit,” he had draped his arm around her. Melinda could almost feel the way his long fingers had gently caressed her shoulders. Even now, thinking about it caused her to shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Papa Noah asked as he grabbed a brush and started grooming one of their buggy horses.

  She shook her head. “Just felt a little chill is all.”

  “Spring has been fairly warm so far, but it does cool off in the evenings,” he commented.

  “That’s for certain sure.”

  “I heard that you and your mamm did some baking today with Susie and Grandma Stutzman.”

  “Did you also hear what happened to one of the pies?”

  He nodded.

  Melinda moved over to the horse’s stall. “The pies turned out fine until Isaiah’s dog caused me to trip and fall.” She groaned. “Now we have one less pie.”

  “That’s not true.” He reached under his straw hat to scratch the side of his head. “I just came from the kitchen, where I helped your mamm bake another pie. I don’t get to bake as often as I used to, wha
t with having so many other things to do, so it was kind of nice to spend some time in the kitchen.”

  Melinda smiled. She wasn’t sure if Papa Noah had really enjoyed making the pie or if he was merely trying to make her feel better. “Mind if I ask you something?” she asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “What will happen if Grandpa Hertzler’s memory loss gets any worse? Will he have to move into our side of the house?”

  “Maybe so.”

  “I wish there was something we could do to make him feel better.”

  Papa Noah’s dark eyes clouded over. “We need to remember to pray for Grandpa and be there whenever he needs us.”

  “I agree.”

  “So, how’s that little kid doing?” he asked, motioning to the baby goat. “Is she getting along all right?”

  “I think so. I thought at first she might need me to bottle-feed her, but her mamm seems to be taking care of her now.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Melinda swatted at a bothersome fly. That was the only bad part about being in the barn—too many bugs that liked to buzz and bite. “Say, Papa Noah, I was wondering if—”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you think you might have time to build a few more animal cages so I can take care of more orphaned animals?”

  “I’m not sure I’d have the time for that right now, but I’ll bet Gabe Swartz would.”

  “Should I ask him?”

  “Don’t see why not.” He winked at her. “After all, a fellow bitten by the love bug is sure to do most anything for his favorite girl.”

  Melinda’s mouth dropped open. “You know about Gabe and me?”

  “Of course. You can’t fool an old man like me. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

  “You’re not old, Papa Noah.” Melinda placed her hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t even have any gray hairs on your head.”

  He pulled his fingers through the end of his beard. “I’ve got some here, though.”

  She leaned closer for a better look. “Well, maybe just a few. But I still think you look plenty young.”