the bumper crop of sugar beets they’d had that year.
“ Ach , some stronger hands than mine for the press,” the older woman said with a welcoming smile.
Rose ducked her head so that her aunt wouldn’t see the emotion in her face and plunged her hands into a nearby bucket of soapy water. She dried her hands on a clean towel and then took over at the apple press, which currently ran with the bright red and purple of sugar beets. Later the juice would be boiled until nearly all the liquid had evaporated, leaving rough granules of sugar for cooking. The hard part was pressing the liquid from the beets.
Aenti Tabby moved to continue cutting off the rough green tops. “So, have you seen your friend Priscilla lately? I’ve heard the Kings are having quite a time getting ready for her wedding.”
Rose realized she had been too involved in her own issues to be of much comfort to her friend. She’d have to pay her another visit soon. To think that Priscilla and Chester’s wedding was only three weeks away. The thought made her heart speed up at the seamless passage of time, and thoughts of her own December wedding to Luke flooded her mind again.
“How is your dress coming?”
“ Gut . I’ve got it pieced, and I sew on it a bit whenever I can.”
Rose was waiting for it—more pressing questions about Luke from her aenti —and decided to forestall the process by talking a blue streak. But as she opened her mouth to speak, her aenti gave a shocked cry.
“What?” Rose asked in alarm.
“Your hands, child! You didn’t put on gloves.”
Rose stared down at her hands and wrists, now stained as purple as the beet juice that gushed through the press.
“ Ach! I wasn’t thinking . . .”
“Or perhaps you were thinking too much,” Aenti Tabby suggested.
Rose laughed aloud ruefully. “I suppose I can try kerosene to get it off.”
“Or maybe your Luke would prefer a purple hand to hold until he’s feeling better.”
Rose opened her mouth in shock. “What?” How did her aenti know about Luke’s injuries?
Aenti Tabby laughed at her expression. “Dr. Knepp stopped by before you got here to make sure that you were feeling well. Will you tell me what happened?”
Rose stared down at her purple fingers, perplexed, and thought hard about strangling Luke as she struggled for an answer.
Chapter Fifteen
“G O ON UP , R OSE .” M R . L ANTZ SMILED WITH WHAT SEEMED like extra exuberance. “He’s just resting that ankle a bit.”
Rose returned the smile to her kindly future father-in-law and decided Luke must have handled things all right. She crossed the beautifully pegged oak floors of the Lantz farmhouse with a familiar appreciation. Luke had suggested that they might move into the small house adjacent to the farm soon after they married, but Rose wouldn’t think of it. She’d loved the woman who would have been her mother-in-law, and part of her longed to bring back the feminine touches that were missing from the home—the watering can of red geraniums on the kitchen windowsill; the sheen and patina of the beautifully carved furniture, which in recent months seemed always to need a dusting; and just the general feel of a woman about the place to cook and clean, heal and listen. She was no fool though, and knew that unless she drew upon Derr Herr ’s spirit, drinking from the Living Water to nourish herself first, she would have nothing to bring to her new family.
This thought filled her mind as she moved to the bottom of the staircase and glanced upward. Over the years Rose had climbed the staircase to Luke’s room more times than she could count, having always been treated like a daughter by the Lantzes. But today something was different as she gripped the smoothness of the simple balustrade with one hand and swiped at a stray piece of lint on her dress with the other. Today she was nervous, uncertain, and she hesitated at the closed wooden door at the top left of the steps. It wasn’t just her
“ Ach , some stronger hands than mine for the press,” the older woman said with a welcoming smile.
Rose ducked her head so that her aunt wouldn’t see the emotion in her face and plunged her hands into a nearby bucket of soapy water. She dried her hands on a clean towel and then took over at the apple press, which currently ran with the bright red and purple of sugar beets. Later the juice would be boiled until nearly all the liquid had evaporated, leaving rough granules of sugar for cooking. The hard part was pressing the liquid from the beets.
Aenti Tabby moved to continue cutting off the rough green tops. “So, have you seen your friend Priscilla lately? I’ve heard the Kings are having quite a time getting ready for her wedding.”
Rose realized she had been too involved in her own issues to be of much comfort to her friend. She’d have to pay her another visit soon. To think that Priscilla and Chester’s wedding was only three weeks away. The thought made her heart speed up at the seamless passage of time, and thoughts of her own December wedding to Luke flooded her mind again.
“How is your dress coming?”
“ Gut . I’ve got it pieced, and I sew on it a bit whenever I can.”
Rose was waiting for it—more pressing questions about Luke from her aenti —and decided to forestall the process by talking a blue streak. But as she opened her mouth to speak, her aenti gave a shocked cry.
“What?” Rose asked in alarm.
“Your hands, child! You didn’t put on gloves.”
Rose stared down at her hands and wrists, now stained as purple as the beet juice that gushed through the press.
“ Ach! I wasn’t thinking . . .”
“Or perhaps you were thinking too much,” Aenti Tabby suggested.
Rose laughed aloud ruefully. “I suppose I can try kerosene to get it off.”
“Or maybe your Luke would prefer a purple hand to hold until he’s feeling better.”
Rose opened her mouth in shock. “What?” How did her aenti know about Luke’s injuries?
Aenti Tabby laughed at her expression. “Dr. Knepp stopped by before you got here to make sure that you were feeling well. Will you tell me what happened?”
Rose stared down at her purple fingers, perplexed, and thought hard about strangling Luke as she struggled for an answer.
Chapter Fifteen
“G O ON UP , R OSE .” M R . L ANTZ SMILED WITH WHAT SEEMED like extra exuberance. “He’s just resting that ankle a bit.”
Rose returned the smile to her kindly future father-in-law and decided Luke must have handled things all right. She crossed the beautifully pegged oak floors of the Lantz farmhouse with a familiar appreciation. Luke had suggested that they might move into the small house adjacent to the farm soon after they married, but Rose wouldn’t think of it. She’d loved the woman who would have been her mother-in-law, and part of her longed to bring back the feminine touches that were missing from the home—the watering can of red geraniums on the kitchen windowsill; the sheen and patina of the beautifully carved furniture, which in recent months seemed always to need a dusting; and just the general feel of a woman about the place to cook and clean, heal and listen. She was no fool though, and knew that unless she drew upon Derr Herr ’s spirit, drinking from the Living Water to nourish herself first, she would have nothing to bring to her new family.
This thought filled her mind as she moved to the bottom of the staircase and glanced upward. Over the years Rose had climbed the staircase to Luke’s room more times than she could count, having always been treated like a daughter by the Lantzes. But today something was different as she gripped the smoothness of the simple balustrade with one hand and swiped at a stray piece of lint on her dress with the other. Today she was nervous, uncertain, and she hesitated at the closed wooden door at the top left of the steps. It wasn’t just her
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