at the table.
If he mistook one for the other...
Annie had given him an easy way to avoid admitting he hadn’t realized which twin he was asking to work for him, but he couldn’t depend on that happening again.
He cleared his throat to signal the end of grace. As he raised his head, he was startled by an abrupt yearning he hadn’t expected. A yearning for a life where he could sit with a family of his own at day’s end. Several of his friends had married in November and December and stepped into the next phase of their lives. He was moving forward as well, but not in the same direction. Was he missing his chance to have a family?
There wasn’t time for such thoughts. Between the farm and the bakery, he had too much work to do every day. The responsibilities of a family would require more of his nonexistent time. He’d made his choice, and he shouldn’t second-guess himself.
Caleb took the bowl of fragrant stew. He spooned some onto his plate, then more when urged by Inez, who told him in her no-nonsense voice not to worry if he emptied the bowl because there was extra on the stove. When he sampled it, he was glad he’d listened to the old woman.
He focused on eating as conversation went on around him. He looked up when Inez spoke.
“Leanna...pass the basket...of rolls...to Caleb.” Inez gave him a wink as she spoke with her usual interruptions. Seeing how the twins glanced at her, he wondered what her pauses to take a breath meant. “I’ve...never met a...man who doesn’t...have room for...another roll...or two.”
“Especially with apple butter,” he replied as he waited to see which twin did as her grossmammi had asked. When it wasn’t the one holding Joey, he was relieved. He’d guessed Annie was the twin bouncing the little boy on her knee and keeping Joey entertained with pieces of soft carrot she’d fished out of her stew. He watched, amazed at how she kept the kind fed while she ate her own supper. He was beginning to wonder if Annie was gut at everything she did. She’d handled the touchy situation with Becky Sue with a skill he didn’t possess.
“I’m not as out of practice as I thought,” Annie said with a laugh. Was she trying to put him at ease for staring? That she might be able to discern his thoughts was disquieting. “I used to feed Kenny this way when he was little.”
Kenny grumbled something, and Caleb swallowed his chuckle. No boy on the verge of becoming a teenager wanted to be reminded about such things.
As the meal went on and Caleb had another generous serving of the delicious stew, laughter came from the Waglers. But Becky Sue was reticent, and every movement she made displayed exhaustion. He wondered when—and where—she’d last slept.
A quick prayer of gratitude for their food, their families and for shelter from the cold night ended the meal. Leanna offered to help Becky Sue upstairs so she could rest, and Inez took the boppli into the living room to rock him until he became sleepy. Kenny wandered off somewhere with the puppy he called Penny.
Annie began to clear the table, carrying the dishes to the white farmhouse sink. “Did you get in touch with Becky Sue’s parents?”
“No answer yet.”
“As soon as they get the message, they’ll call. I can’t imagine how happy they’ll be to discover their daughter and kins-kind are safe with you.”
“With you, actually.”
“We’re happy to help.” When he picked up his dishes, she said, “You don’t have to clear the table. I know you’ve had a long day.”
“No longer than yours.”
“But I didn’t have to milk,” she laughed. “Lyndon, Kenny and Leanna milk every day, and Juanita will help sometimes. I always try to find somewhere else to be.”
“Why? There’s something wunderbaar about being in a warm barn and spending time with animals willing to share their bounty with us.” He set the dishes by the sink. “For me, it’s one of the clearest symbols of God’s gifts to us.”
She turned on the water and squirted dish detergent into the sink. “That’s a much nicer way of looking at milking.”
“But not your way?”
“Definitely not.” She chuckled as she reached for the dishrag.
“You may have your mind changed one of these days.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
He smiled. Trust Annie Wagler not to withhold her opinion! It was one of the reasons his sister liked her, and working together at the bakery was going to be interesting. At least he wouldn’t have to try to guess what she was thinking.
“So you prefer spending time with a boppli who spits up on you rather than a nice, clean cow who gives you milk?”
“Spits up?” She glanced at the spots of orange on her black apron. “I didn’t notice. Oh, well. It’ll wash out,” she laughed. “Joey should be glad he wanted to sit on my lap rather than Leanna’s.”
“Why?” He was curious how the little boy had figured out which twin was which. And a bit envious of the kind’s intuitive ability.
“Leanna prefers boppli goats to boppli humans because she spent most of her teen years babysitting for an Englisch family who had a ton of rules about their kinder. They insisted she carry the boppli in some sort of contraption that wrapped around her shoulders. Half the time when she came home, she was covered with formula because they believed she should feed the boppli in the getup.”
“That’s enough to put anyone off from kinder.”
Annie flinched, surprising him before she went to the table to collect more dishes. “She won’t feel that way about her own bopplin. She’ll be a wunderbaar mamm, I know.”
“But you’ll never like milking?”
“Never!” She carried the other dishes to the sink.
“Don’t you know you should never say never?”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“It might be.”
“It’s one you’re guaranteed to lose. Cows and I agree we’re better off having as little to do with each other as possible.”
“You’re going to make me prove that you’re wrong.”
“About what?” asked Inez as she came into the kitchen. She set Joey on the floor and pressed one hand to her chest. An odd wheezing sound came from her, and she sat in the closest chair.
Annie rushed to her side. “Are you okay, Grossmammi?”
“I guess I’m not as young as I used to be.” She glanced at the boppli, who dropped to his belly. “Chasing a young one is a task for someone with fewer years on her than me. So, what you are going to prove our Annie wrong about, Caleb?”
“That milking is a pleasant chore,” he replied,
