The Storekeeper's Daughter by Wanda E. Brunstetter Read Free Book Online Page A

leaving for Sunday church at the Beechys’ house.
    At least the swelling from my bee stings has gone down, she mused. I no longer look like a bumpy old horny toad. The floodwaters have gone down, too, and it’s not raining. That’s something to be thankful for on this Lord’s Day.
    Naomi washed each dish in one container, then rinsed it in another. As she finished, the dishes were placed in the draining rack for Nancy to dry and put away. Every step was done with attention, adding up to a simple, unspoken task performed after each and every meal. Strangely enough, Naomi found this ritual comforting. It gave her time to think and sometimes pray.
    “Baby Zach’s hollerin’. Want me to get him out of the playpen?”
    Nancy’s question drew Naomi’s thoughts aside, and she whirled around. There stood Zach, gripping the playpen rails with slobbery hands while tears streamed down his chubby cheeks.
    “I’ll tend the baby,” Naomi told her sister. “All but two cups and three plates have been washed, so you can finish those and get them dried and put away. Hopefully, we’ll all be ready to go by the time Papa gets the horse and buggy hitched.”
    “Why can’t I take care of the boppli while you finish the dishes?” Nancy asked with a lift of her chin.
    Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Naomi contemplated her sister’s suggestion. Finishing the dishes would be much easier than trying to calm Zach, who probably had a dirty diaper. Even though she wasn’t looking forward to changing it, she knew she could get the job done quicker than Nancy.
    “I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but I think it would be best if I get the baby.”
    A look of disappointment flashed across Nancy’s face, but she slid over to the sink and grabbed the sponge without a word.
    Naomi hated to be in charge of her younger siblings, always telling them what to do and sometimes handing out discipline when it became necessary. That was supposed to be a mother’s job.
    Naomi dried her hands on a terry cloth towel and went to get her baby brother. Zach quit crying the minute she picked him up, and after a quick check of his diaper, she was relieved to see there was no need for a change. How glad she would be when the boppli was potty trained and no longer needed to wear windels.
    Zach squealed and kicked his hefty legs as she carried him across the room. Apparently, all the little guy wanted was to be out of his playpen.
    Naomi hugged her little brother. “You’re gettin’ mighty spoiled, ya know that?”
    “Guess that’s because he’s so lieblich ,” Nancy put in.
    “Jah , he’s adorable all right.” Naomi nuzzled the boy’s cheek with her nose. “Adorable and spoiled rotten.”
    She took a seat in the rocking chair near the fireplace and rocked Zach as she sang a silly song she had made up. “Spoiled little baby, you’re awfully cute. You’re sure to grow up happy and loved to boot.”
    Zach giggled as she tugged gently on his soft earlobe.
    Nancy placed another dish in the cupboard when the back door swung open. Papa entered the kitchen, followed by Samuel.
    “A sly old fox was in the chicken coop last night,” Samuel announced.
    “How do ya know that?” Nancy asked.
    “We found evidence of it ... several dead chickens,” their father said with a frown.
    “Papa’s gonna set a trap for the scoundrel,” Samuel added excitedly.
    “I hope you’re plannin’ to set it someplace where the kinner won’t get hurt,” Naomi said.
    Papa moved toward the rocker, and his blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t ya think I’ve got brains enough to know how to set a trap without taking the chance of one of my youngsters gettin’ injured?”
    Tears stung the back of Naomi’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. “I—I meant no disrespect, Papa.”
    He fingered the tip of his beard. “Jah , well, your mamm never questioned my decisions when she was alive.”
    There he goes again—comparing me to Mama.
    “Is