Read Online Mother For His Children, A by Jan Drexler - Free Book Online

sister. He started unhitching Ginger.
    He’d better get inside as soon as he could.
    * * *
    â€œHow many jars of chowchow?”
    Waneta counted, bending down to see into the back recesses of the cellar shelves. “Twenty-four, and then there are ten jars of pickled cauliflower.”
    Ruthy wrote the numbers down and glanced over the list. Green beans, navy beans, tomatoes, vegetable soup, plenty of pickled vegetables... “Is there any corn?”
    Waneta searched through the jars. “ Ne, no corn left.”
    â€œWhat about fruit?”
    Waneta moved to the next shelf. “Lots of prune plums.”
    As she started counting, Sam clattered down the wooden steps.
    â€œâ€™Neta! Aunt Eliza’s here.”
    â€œ Ach, ne, not today!” Waneta stood so quickly her head bumped against the shelf above her. “Ruthy, is my kapp straight?” She dusted off her skirt and retied her apron.
    â€œYou look fine. Why don’t I finish counting the fruit while you go up to greet your auntie.”
    Waneta laid her hand on Ruthy’s arm, her voice an urgent whisper. “Don’t make me face her alone!”
    â€œYou aren’t afraid of her, are you?”
    Waneta’s gaze went to the ceiling as they both heard heavy footsteps in the kitchen above them. “I can never do anything right for her. I know she doesn’t like me.”
    â€œI understand. I have an auntie like that, too.” Ruthy smiled at Waneta. “Come, we’ll face her together.”
    Waneta led the way up the bare wooden steps, glancing back once to make sure Ruthy was following her.
    â€œGo on, I’m right behind you.”
    Ruthy smiled at Waneta’s back. She remembered hating to face her overbearing Aunt Trudy when she was a young teenager, so Waneta’s reaction didn’t surprise her. Aunts could be very particular about a girl’s behavior.
    The woman waiting for them in the kitchen didn’t look anything like thin, pinched Aunt Trudy. Eliza stood in the middle of the floor, still wearing her woolen shawl and black bonnet, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. Her expression was the same as Aunt Trudy’s, though, as she surveyed the spotless kitchen shelf. If she were looking for a fault with Ruthy’s housekeeping, she certainly wouldn’t find it in the kitchen.
    â€œAunt Eliza, you should sit down. Would you like some coffee?” Waneta hurried to the stove and moved the coffeepot to the front.
    Eliza’s cane thumped as the woman turned to inspect Ruthy.
    â€œSo you’re the housekeeper my brother hired.” Eliza’s gaze took in everything from Ruthy’s heart-shaped kapp to her shoes, dusty from the cellar.
    â€œ Ja, I’m Ruth Mummert.”
    â€œYou’re from Lancaster County?”
    â€œJa.” Ruthy smiled. Eliza was gruff, but didn’t seem to be as scary as Waneta acted. Sam had disappeared into the front room.
    â€œI once met a Mummert from Lancaster County.” Eliza let Ruthy take her shawl and untied her bonnet.
    â€œYou did? I wonder if they could be related to us.”
    â€œI hope not.” Eliza sniffed and thumped toward the rocking chair in the corner. “They were Englisch. ” She turned to Ruthy again, narrowing her eyes as she studied her. “You don’t have Englisch relatives, do you?”
    Before Ruthy could think how to answer this, Eliza sank into the rocking chair with a groan.
    â€œHere’s your coffee, Aunt Eliza.” Waneta handed the cup to her aunt. “And here’s the footstool.” She brought the small stool from its place next to the wall.
    As Ruthy poured herself a cup of coffee, she watched Eliza lift her left foot onto the stool with one hand and lean back in the chair, her lips pinched together. Raising the cup to her mouth, she blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip.
    â€œWaneta,” Ruthy said, sitting on the bench with her back to the table,