them for Jacob…. Ach, she shouldn’t go there, but it still hurt that Jacob had refused a piece. Maybe he didn’t like it.
There was something wrong with him if he didn’t. Everyone liked apple pie. Right?
“I thought we’d have fried chicken tonight,” Mamm whispered with a glance around the kitchen. “It’s Mary’s favorite, and we do have plenty of hens.”
Becky nodded, but she could never stomach killing a chicken and eating it the same day.
That didn’t really matter, though, since she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of anything with Amos Kropf at the table. The way he looked at her made her feel dirty. Cheap.
It reminded her of how she’d felt after Kent’s lies had circulated. The way she still felt when she got around some of the young men.
Ach, if only she could go out with Jacob tonight.
But he’d hesitated for a few seconds too long when he’d asked, as if he might not have meant it. And then, there was that letter to consider. She should have thrown it in the fire. If only this Susie didn’t exist.
She started peeling the mound of potatoes her mother had placed beside the sink, setting the peeled spuds onto a sheet of newspaper.
“The schnitz pies just went in the oven,” Mamm announced. “I’m going to kill the chickens.” She touched Becky’s shoulder and stood still a long moment, her hand resting there comfortably. Then, she pulled Becky into a sideways hug. “If you care to talk, I’m willing to listen.”
Tears burned Becky’s eyes, and she struggled to keep from flinging herself into Mamm’s arms and crying out all her woes—her hopeless feelings for Jacob, her deep dislike of Amos Kropf, and her willingness to be a maidal all her life if Jacob wouldn’t have her.
But emotions were something Becky had thought she’d gotten under control. At least, until Jacob had arrived. She’d cried more over her mistakes in the past several days than she had since Kent’s rejection of her and Emma, and since the lies had begun.
Mamm lingered a moment, gave her another squeeze, then released her. “I’ll be right back. When you see Katie, ask her to bring in the laundry, okay? I asked her to get the gifts for Mary ready. But I’m thinking we’ll celebrate her birthday either before the Kropfs arrive or tomorrow. It really isn’t a gut time for company.”
That would be the only negative thing Mamm would say about Daed’s having invited Amos Kropf and family to supper.
The door shut behind Mamm. Becky shifted the sling and the now sleeping Emma, growing heavy at her side.
She sighed and picked up the next potato.
***
Jacob looked up from the forge, disturbed by the sudden squawking of chickens. Daniel didn’t seem to be paying much mind to the racket, but Jacob worried that something was bothering them. He decided to check it out, so he put down his things. It could be a fox. “I’ll be right back,” he told Daniel.
Daniel nodded, and Jacob made a beeline toward the chicken coop. Leah, holding an ax in one hand and a chicken in the other, was headed toward a stump in the yard.
Jacob stood there watching for a moment. Should he offer to help her kill the chicken? He felt a bit disappointed that it was Leah and not Becky, but then he realized that Becky would be in the house, away from her mamm’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where the grossmammi spent her days, but she certainly never seemed to show up in the kitchen except at mealtimes. Odd. His grossmammi loved to cook.
No matter. If Becky was alone, maybe he could talk with her.
And a couple of cookies sounded right good. A cup of coffee, too.
Whistling, he strode toward the house, opened the door, and paused to wipe his feet before entering the kitchen. There she was, wrapping up a bundle of something into a damp newspaper.
“Hey, Bex. Got a minute?” He stopped beside her at the sink and reached for a bar of soap.
He didn’t look at her as he soaped up, but he sensed her freeze and then stiffen.
He
There was something wrong with him if he didn’t. Everyone liked apple pie. Right?
“I thought we’d have fried chicken tonight,” Mamm whispered with a glance around the kitchen. “It’s Mary’s favorite, and we do have plenty of hens.”
Becky nodded, but she could never stomach killing a chicken and eating it the same day.
That didn’t really matter, though, since she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of anything with Amos Kropf at the table. The way he looked at her made her feel dirty. Cheap.
It reminded her of how she’d felt after Kent’s lies had circulated. The way she still felt when she got around some of the young men.
Ach, if only she could go out with Jacob tonight.
But he’d hesitated for a few seconds too long when he’d asked, as if he might not have meant it. And then, there was that letter to consider. She should have thrown it in the fire. If only this Susie didn’t exist.
She started peeling the mound of potatoes her mother had placed beside the sink, setting the peeled spuds onto a sheet of newspaper.
“The schnitz pies just went in the oven,” Mamm announced. “I’m going to kill the chickens.” She touched Becky’s shoulder and stood still a long moment, her hand resting there comfortably. Then, she pulled Becky into a sideways hug. “If you care to talk, I’m willing to listen.”
Tears burned Becky’s eyes, and she struggled to keep from flinging herself into Mamm’s arms and crying out all her woes—her hopeless feelings for Jacob, her deep dislike of Amos Kropf, and her willingness to be a maidal all her life if Jacob wouldn’t have her.
But emotions were something Becky had thought she’d gotten under control. At least, until Jacob had arrived. She’d cried more over her mistakes in the past several days than she had since Kent’s rejection of her and Emma, and since the lies had begun.
Mamm lingered a moment, gave her another squeeze, then released her. “I’ll be right back. When you see Katie, ask her to bring in the laundry, okay? I asked her to get the gifts for Mary ready. But I’m thinking we’ll celebrate her birthday either before the Kropfs arrive or tomorrow. It really isn’t a gut time for company.”
That would be the only negative thing Mamm would say about Daed’s having invited Amos Kropf and family to supper.
The door shut behind Mamm. Becky shifted the sling and the now sleeping Emma, growing heavy at her side.
She sighed and picked up the next potato.
***
Jacob looked up from the forge, disturbed by the sudden squawking of chickens. Daniel didn’t seem to be paying much mind to the racket, but Jacob worried that something was bothering them. He decided to check it out, so he put down his things. It could be a fox. “I’ll be right back,” he told Daniel.
Daniel nodded, and Jacob made a beeline toward the chicken coop. Leah, holding an ax in one hand and a chicken in the other, was headed toward a stump in the yard.
Jacob stood there watching for a moment. Should he offer to help her kill the chicken? He felt a bit disappointed that it was Leah and not Becky, but then he realized that Becky would be in the house, away from her mamm’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where the grossmammi spent her days, but she certainly never seemed to show up in the kitchen except at mealtimes. Odd. His grossmammi loved to cook.
No matter. If Becky was alone, maybe he could talk with her.
And a couple of cookies sounded right good. A cup of coffee, too.
Whistling, he strode toward the house, opened the door, and paused to wipe his feet before entering the kitchen. There she was, wrapping up a bundle of something into a damp newspaper.
“Hey, Bex. Got a minute?” He stopped beside her at the sink and reached for a bar of soap.
He didn’t look at her as he soaped up, but he sensed her freeze and then stiffen.
He
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