C
HAPTER
1
“W
hat does the
Ordnung
say about Vikings, Felty?” Anna Helmuth said, straightening her glasses to get a better look at her husband. Sometimes she wasn't sure what the
Ordnung
âthe rules of their Old Order Amish communityâdid and did not allow.
Felty didn't even glance up from his paper. “What's a Viking, Annie-banannie?”
“You know. Those men with horns on their hats.”
“Horns? That doesn't sound very safe. What if you bent over and poked your friend in the eye?”
“Now, Felty.” Anna tied off the final strand of yarn and leaned back in her rocking chair. She had finally mastered the art of crochet, and this Viking beanie she'd made for her grandson proved it. She had always been a knitter. Felty had told her she knitted as if she were born with a pair of needles in her hand, and up until last year, her knitting had been sufficient. But then she had realized that if she wanted to find her grandson Titus the perfect wife, she would need more than knitting and cooking skills.
Last March, Anna had pulled out all the stops, bought an instruction book, and taught herself how to crochet.
All for Titus's sake.
She hoped he appreciated it.
“Look, Felty,” she said, holding up her latest creation.
Her husband of nearly sixty-five years lowered his paper and peered over his reading glasses. “That is wonderful-gute, Annie. I ain't never seen no one as talented as you.” He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“It's a Viking beanie.” The beanie was gray with little nubs and nobs and post stitches to make it look like a helmet with two crocheted white horns poking out either side at the top. It was truly formidable. Surely the bishop couldn't disapprove after she'd spent so much time making it.
“Very nice. Those horns wouldn't poke out anyone's eye.”
Anna stabbed her crochet hook into the ball of yarn. “Do you think Titus will like it?”
Felty squinted as if he were trying to get a better look at the Viking horns. “Titus adores everything you make for him, Annie, but he usually wears a beanie beneath his straw hat when he does winter chores. I don't think the horns will fit under his hat.”
Anna furrowed her brow. “Oh dear. Maybe I should have made him a Minion scarf.”
Felty looked at Anna with an appreciative glint in his eye. “Annie, you're so smart. I don't know what a Viking
or
a Minion is.”
Anna waved away his praise. “It's in the new crochet pattern book that Cassie gave me. I just follow the directions. You can do anything if you just read the directions.”
“Not me. I've tried knitting, and I don't dare to try crocheting. Are you sorry you didn't marry someone smarter, Banannie?”
“Just because you can't knit doesn't mean you're not smart.
Gotte
gives each one of us our own gifts. I can cook and knit and crochet. You never saw a horse you couldn't calm or a gadget you couldn't figure out.
Gotte
has been very generous with both of us.”
Felty stroked the long gray beard on his chin. “Indeed He has. The best gift He ever gave me was you, Annie. I'd be greedy to wish for more.”
“Now, Felty. Don't tease.”
Felty folded his paper, and it only took him three tries to get out of his recliner. He shuffled to Anna's rocker, grunted as he braced himself on the arm of her chair, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I wouldn't tease you about a thing like that.”
Anna giggled. “You were such a handsome boy. I thought you were delirious with a fever when you asked if you could drive me home from the
singeon
. I nearly keeled over dead from surprise.”
“And I nearly floated off the ground when you said yes.”
Anna stuffed her yarn and Titus's new beanie into the canvas bag she kept near her rocking chair. “I want Titus to be that happy, and he needs this beanie.”
“Do you still think we need to find him a wife?”
“
Ach,
I've already found him a wife, dear. It's just going to be a little tricky getting them together. I don't know if I have the crocheting skills to do it.”
Felty went into the kitchen and retrieved a ginger snap from the cookie jar. Like any true Amish
mammi,
Anna always kept her cookie jar full. “If anyone has the right crocheting skills, it's you, Annie,” Felty said, taking a hearty bite. His teeth scraped against the cookie. Anna smiled. He liked his cookies hard. “Who is the girl you have your sights set on?” he said.
“Adam Wengerd's fiancée.”
Felty choked on his ginger snap, and Anna had to get up and pat him on the back until he could catch his breath. “Annie, I know you're worried about finding the right girl for Titus, but it doesn't seem very nice to steal another boy's fiancée.”
Anna sighed. “You're right as usual, Felty. I suppose I should have mentioned that she's not Adam's fiancée yet, and quite honestly, she and Adam don't suit each other at all. Katie Rose is a shy, sweet little thing who will be able to see Titus for the wonderful-gute boy he is.” Anna picked up an envelope from the table next to her rocking chair. “Katie Rose's
mater
has written me a letter. You remember the Gingeriches, don't you, Felty?”
Felty closed one eye in concentration. “Samuel and Martha Gingerich?”
“
Jah
. They used to be in our district.”
“They moved to Augusta eight or nine years ago.”
Anna nodded and slipped three pieces of handwritten pink paper out of the envelope. “Martha wants to send her daughter Katie Rose to stay with us so that Katie can secure a marriage proposal from Adam during the Christmas holidays.”
“Why Christmas?”
“Everyone knows that Christmas is the most romantic time of the year,” Anna said.
“And you want Titus to be the one to propose instead?”
“
Jah,
but Martha wants Adam Wengerd. Adam and Katie Rose played together as children, and their
maters
practically have them engaged already.”
“What does Adam think of all this?”
Anna shrugged. “He's willing. Katie Rose was thirteen when she left Bonduel, and she was pretty, even then. Adam's had a hard time finding a wife in Bonduel, he's going to be in a hurry to propose before Katie gets to know him very well.”
“Now, Annie-girl, Adam is a very nice boy.”
Anna scrunched her lips together. “Well, dear, we're all entitled to our own opinion. I'll never breathe a word to anyone about how I feel about Adam Wengerd, even though everyone knows he's too big for his britches.”
Felty stroked his long beard. “I don't wonder but you'll be able to bring Titus and Katie Rose together, Annie, but what will Martha Gingerich think if her daughter comes home engaged to the wrong boy?”
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I've got bigger fish to fry just now. Titus will be here any minute, and I've got to think of a way to keep him coming back to Huckleberry Hill every day until Christmas.”
“Why don't you just tell him you've found a girl for him?” Felty said.
Anna practically squeaked her disapproval. “I can't do that, Felty. Titus is a
gute
boy, but if he thinks we expect anything from him, he'll run for the hills. Katie is shy. They've got to get together without knowing we want them to.”
Felty took another bite, scraping his teeth against his cookie. “I would say it's impossible, but that's how most of your matches have worked out, Annie. If anyone can bring two people together who would rather not, it's you.”
“
Denki,
dear. I've worked very hard to hone my skills, and not just the knitting and crocheting ones.”
“Titus comes up once a week to help with chores yet,” Felty said.
Anna shook her head. “We need him on Huckleberry Hill every day. Katie will only be here until Christmas. Romance takes time.” Anna clutched her chest when a knock came at the door. “
Ach, du lieva.
He's here already. I'll just have to make it up as I go. You'll play along, won't you, Felty?”
Felty ambled to the door. “I'll follow wherever you lead, Banannie.”
Titus stood on the porch wrapped in his heavy black coat with a straw hat on his head and a toothpick in his mouth. He was never far from a toothpick. “Hullo, Mammi. Hullo, Dawdi. It's a wonderful cold day, and it ain't even December yet.” Titus's toothpick hung from his bottom lip and looked as if it would tumble at any minute, but it never did and he seemed to have no problem talking with it dangling from his mouth. Such a dear boy.
Anna bustled to the door to give Titus his weekly hug. “How is my very favorite grandson named Titus?”
Titus furrowed his brow before bursting into a smile. The toothpick stayed put. “Mammi, I'm your only grandson named Titus.”
“That is
gute
. I wouldn't want to offend any of my other grandchildren.
Cum reu,
” Anna said, ushering him into the house before all the warm air escaped. A house heated by a woodstove couldn't afford to lose even a trickle of warmth.
Before coming in, Titus stomped the snow off his boots. He was always wonderful thoughtful like that. Felty helped him off with his coat and took his hat. He did indeed have a bright red beanie on underneath his straw hat. Anna recognized it immediately. It was one she had knitted for him last year.
“Can I help you off with your boots?” Felty said. Anna pursed her lips. Felty had never taken Titus's coat and hat before, and he had certainly never offered to help him with his boots. Felty was trying too hard, and for sure and certain, Titus would notice.
Ach, du lieva,
he did. His eyes darted suspiciously between Felty and Anna, and his toothpick quivered on his lip.
She'd have to think fast if she didn't want him to get scared off. “
Cum,
” she said, pulling a chair from under the table and motioning for Titus to sit.
Not taking his eyes from Anna, Titus sat as if he was afraid the chair might bite him. Anna poured him a glass of milk and grabbed three cookies from the cookie jar. Maybe she could soften Titus up with a hard cookie. She and Felty created further suspicion when they sat down at the table on either side of their grandson. Anna tried to smile as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if Titus's entire future didn't hang in the balance. She'd never get him to agree to anything if he was suspicious.
Unable to relax in the face of so much attention, Titus shoved one of the cookies between his back molars and bit down hard. “Have you got a list of chores for me, Dawdi, or should I just do the regular ones?”
“Your
mammi
has something she wants to ask you,” Felty said, pinning Anna with a significant look as if to say that if she hadn't thought of a plan, now would be a
gute
time to do it.
“
Ach, jah,
of course,” Anna said, clearing her throat and hoping by sheer willpower that something brilliant would come to her. Titus's happiness depended on it. “Titus, you know we love you.”
Felty nodded eagerly, encouraging Anna with his eyes. “In the past year, you have done more work around our farm than anyone else.”
“It's no burden,” Titus said. “You and Mammi treat me nice. Mamm says I'm scatterbrained.”
Anna reached out and patted Titus's hand. “You're no such thing. You just have a lively mind, that's all, and I need your help with something.”
“What is it?”
“I hesitate to ask, because it means you would have to come here every day. It's a big commitment.”
“I'll do anything for you, Mammi. Just say the word. Dat says we must help the elderly any way we can.”
Felty frowned. “I'm only eighty-six. Don't put me in my grave just yet.”
“You see,” Anna said, fidgeting while waiting for an idea to come to her. “You see, I am going to need a great deal of help with our Christmas . . . goat.”
Felty kept a smile plastered on his lips as his brows inched toward the sky.
Anna stole a glance at Felty and shrugged. A Christmas goat was the only thing that had come to her. Crocheting that Vikings hat had drained her of all her creative juices.
Titus's mouth fell open. The toothpick balanced precariously on his bottom lip. “Christmas what?”
“Our Christmas goat. It's a family tradition.”
“Family tradition?” Titus said, scratching his head. “I don't remember that tradition.”
“We're starting a new one. There's nothing like a goat to perk up the Christmas season.”
“But, Mammi, you don't have a goat.”
“We will buy one. That's why it's called a Christmas goat, because we get it at Christmastime to fill our hearts with cheer.”
Titus looked excessively concerned and even more confused. “I've never heard of a goat filling hearts with cheer.”
“That's why it's important that we start this new tradition. You've been missing out on half the fun of Christmas for far too long.”
“I had no idea,” Titus said.
Anna poured more milk into Titus's nearly full glass. “I will need you to come up every day in December to feed it and milk it and take care of it. I'll be too busy, and Felty is too old to learn how to milk a goat.”
“I'm only eighty-six,” Felty said.
Oh dear. She hoped she hadn't offended Felty, but it couldn't be helped. They needed Titus to come to Huckleberry Hill, and Felty's age would have to be the excuse, no matter how weak it sounded.