Kate's Song by Jennifer Beckstrand Page A

other furniture for family and friends. The larger rooms next door housed his cabinet business, employing a dozen men and taking in more orders every month. Amish workmanship was highly sought after by the Englisch, and Nathaniel was glad for it. The more business he attracted, the more men he could employ—men working to keep their farms and homes, and care for their families.
    Meticulously, he made the measurements, looked at his drawings, and checked the measurements again, determined that not one mistake, not one imperfection would mar his efforts. Even at the risk of being proud, Nathaniel wanted this work to be his finest ever. For her.
    The door opened behind him, and he turned around to see Mamm, hands on her hips, surveying the room. “You have not worked here for a long time,” she said.
    “Jah, I have been occupied with the business. And Dat,” he said, putting down his pencil and smiling at his mother. “Did the baby come along well?”
    “Feet first, kicking all the way. A fighting, fit, gute son for the Yoders. But if I had known the child was wrong-side down, I would have sent Rosanna to the hospital. Too much can go wrong in such a delivery.”
    “You are a good midwife, Mamm. The mothers trust your skill.”
    His mother approached his worktable and touched the block of wood on top. “Walnut. Very expensive. What are you making?”
    “A rocking chair.”
    “Who is it for?”
    Nathaniel hesitated. “I think I will give it to my future wife, if the Lord God sees fit to grant me one.”
    “Oh, my son,” Mamm said, coming near and placing her hand on his shoulder, “it is no mystery who you took home from the singing on Sunday. But only I know why you haven’t been to one in more than two years.”
    “I suppose you do,” Nathaniel said, reluctant to hear what else he knew she would say.
    “Kate Weaver has wings on her feet. She will not be here come autumn time.” Mamm cradled his chin in her hand. “Why do you want to break your heart again?”
    “She never even knew me before, Mamm. This time is different.”
    “Is it?”
    “For two years I have waited for the day when she would return. Now that she is here, can you blame me for hoping?”
    His mother ran her thumb over his cheek. “I would never blame you. You deserve everything the Almighty blesses you with. I blame her. What happens when she flies off to Milwaukee and never returns?”
    “It will be some consolation knowing I wore myself out trying to win her.”
    “Will it? When your dreams lie on the floor like a pile of wood shavings, will you be glad you gave your heart to her?”
    Nathaniel stood and pulled his mother into an embrace. “I cannot give up chasing after happiness simply because there might be pain down the road. For the joy of having her as my wife, I am willing to do this. I know the risk, Mamm. I want to take it.”
    Mamm pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “And what of her life out of our community? The women are whispering about almost nothing else. How much trouble did she get into there? What kind of a girl is she, really? She is not one of us.”
    Nathaniel gave his mamm a sharp look. “Who is talking about almost nothing else? Gossip is a sin, Mamm.”
    Mamm lowered her eyes. “You are right. Not everyone is talking. But my sister says—”
    “Why do you listen to the tongue-wagging?” Nathaniel said, sitting and ostensibly studying his drawings.
    “You know very well you could have your pick of any Amish girl in Wisconsin. And there is not one mother in the district who would not want you as a son-in-law.”
    Nathaniel chuckled. “Now you exaggerate.”
    Mamm did not give up. “Oh, Nathaniel, are you blind? Kate Weaver has tasted the pleasures of the world and will never be content with a simple life.”
    “I have already told you,” Nathaniel said mildly, “I know the risk.” Without looking at her, he caught his mother’s hand and squeezed it lovingly. “Please do not worry,