loving.
Ida Mae finished her breakfast and leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. “What happened?”
Sadie sighed. “Abe—that was his name—liked to play practical jokes. One day he came to pick me up in his spring wagon, and he had whitewashed his horse.” Sadie smiled, shaking her head. “That scamp. We had a good laugh over his white horse, until Daed saw it.”
Mary picked up her coffee cup. “Then what happened?”
“Daed said the waste of the paint and mistreating the poor horse was the last straw.” Sadie’s eyes sparkled as tears welled up and she lifted the hem of her apron to wipe her cheek. “He told Abe not to bother coming around again. I would see him at Sabbath meeting, of course, but he never spoke to me again. He found a girl from the Clinton district a year later and married her.”
“So he just forgot about you?”
Sadie smiled at Ida Mae. “Ach, ne. You see, when Daed left the farm to my younger brother, your uncle Sol, I didn’t want to live there anymore. It was one thing to be an unwed daughter in my parents’ home, but with Sol and his wife having one baby after another, I was more in the way than I was a help. Elsie didn’t want an old maiden aunt telling her how to raise her children.”
“You couldn’t have been that old,” Ida Mae said.
“That was thirty-five years ago. I was fifty and had nowhere to go.”
“So what did you do?”
“Somehow Abe knew of my predicament. He gave me these ten acres and the church built this house and barn.” Sadie sighed. “Even after all those years, with his family grown and grandchildren coming along, Abe thought of me.”
They sat in silence, and Mary thought about Sadie’s story. How much was Samuel like his grandfather?
Sadie stood and started gathering the plates from the table. “The Lapps will be here soon. I have some scraps of material we can use to make a quilt top. We may as well start the sewing lessons sooner than later.”
Before the mantel clock in the front room struck eight, Samuel’s buggy drove into the yard.
“Go out and tell him to put his horse in the pasture with Chester,” Sadie said, pushing Mary toward the door. “And tell him we’ll have dinner ready at noon, and he and the girls should stay.”
Mary got to the buggy just at Samuel was tying the horse to the hitching post. “Aunt Sadie says to put your mare in the pasture.”
“I didn’t think the job would take very long. The horse can stand.”
“We’ll have dinner ready for you and the girls. Aunt Sadie says we’re to have a good visit.”
Esther climbed down from the buggy, followed by Judith. Each of them carried a bundle of fabric. “I’m glad we’re going to spend the day. We need Aunt Sadie’s help with our dresses.”
As the girls went into the house, Mary couldn’t contain her smile. “I’m so glad they found material to bring. I wasn’t sure they would have any.”
“We went into town yesterday afternoon.” Samuel fiddled with the reins in his hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do. He shifted his gaze toward the door, where the girls had disappeared. “I appreciate the offer of dinner. The girls will enjoy the visit, and I have plenty of work to do here.”
Mary stepped back as he climbed down from the buggy. He was freshly shaven again today, and even with his worn work clothes, he was a fine-looking man. If Sadie’s Abe had been anything like his grandson, she could understand why Sadie had fallen for him.
“I can show you where the repairs need to be done and where to put the horse.”
He led the horse out from between the buggy shafts. “I know my way around. I’ve been helping Aunt Sadie since I was a boy.” He gave her a brotherly grin as he walked away. “I’ll see you at dinnertime.”
Mary watched as he disappeared into the barn. Sadie’s story of his grandfather had made him more intriguing than ever.
When she went inside the house, she followed the voices until she found Aunt Sadie and the others in the sewing room. Judith and Esther had spread lengths of light-colored muslin on the cutting table.
“Samuel surprised us with the trip to town,” Judith was saying, stroking her piece of pale yellow fabric.
Esther fingered her own light green piece. “For some reason, he said we needed new dresses.” She looked at Sadie. “He has never noticed what we’ve worn before, but yesterday in town he kept piling things on the shopkeeper’s counter. Fabric, flour and sugar, butter. He even bought a new crock, since our old one broke last winter.”
Sadie fingered the edge of the fabric. “That must have cost a lot of money.”
Judith nodded. “I think it did. But he had taken two of the hogs to the butcher shop and sold them. He kept saying he should have done it months ago.”
Sadie looked out the window toward the barn, and Mary followed her gaze. Samuel had just opened the gate to the pasture and was letting the mare in with Chester. He glanced toward the house, and then went back into the barn. He looked like a man who was eager to start working.
“I wonder what has gotten into him,” Sadie said softly, and moved her gaze from Samuel to Mary.
Mary caught her look and felt her face turning red. Sadie couldn’t think that Samuel was trying to impress her. Romance seemed to be as far from his mind as it was from hers.
Samuel straightened and thumbed his hat back on his head. Chester had punched a hole in the side of the stall, all right. After pulling off the scrap wood Mary had used to patch the hole and tearing away the splintered remains of the broken plank, he could see the extent of the damage. Mary might have thought her patch was adequate, but this needed more than a temporary fix. The entire board should be replaced.
He climbed the ladder to the haymow, nearly empty after the long winter. Sadie had some hay left, but someone would have to fill the mow again before the summer was too far gone.
Someone? Samuel rubbed at his bare chin. That someone should be him. Other years, the deacons had made sure the mow was filled, but he could do it this year.
On the other side of the haymow a stack of planks rose from the dusty floor. They had been left from when the barn was built years ago. Grossdawdi had said something about building a chicken coop out of them someday, but Sadie had converted an empty stall for her few chickens, cutting a door through the outside wall for them to use, and the coop had never been built.
Samuel picked up the top plank and stood it upright, thumping it on the wooden haymow floor to shake the dust off. From here he could see Sadie’s little house through the loft door. The windows were open to the spring air, and voices drifted up to him. He could distinguish Mary’s low voice, bubbling with laughter. He couldn’t keep a smile away at that thought.
Judith’s voice rose above the others,
