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The Heart's Bidding

By Kelly S. Irvin

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Chapter 1
The single candle stuck in Toby Miller’s oversized banana-nut muffin spoke volumes, but it didn’t say anything worth hearing.
His brother Jason, a grin plastered across his bearded face, struck a match and lit the candle. “Seelich gebortsdaag, Bruder,” he sang off tune. “And many more, old man.”
Twenty-nine wasn’t old. Not by the world’s standard. What Jason really meant was old to be a Plain bachelor. He was right, but he didn’t need to know that. Jason already had a big head. “Danki, but this isn’t the time for this right now. You know Mamm will have a birthday cake tonight.” Toby blew out the candle and tossed it in the wastebasket. He laid the muffin next to his lunch box on the counter that ran below the back window of the Miller Family Auctioneering Company’s largest trailer, currently parked at the Knowles County, Virginia, fairgrounds. “Did you double-check the sound system?”
“I did. So did Dat.”
Toby glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until he had to be on the platform ready to call the first piece of furniture. “And the furniture’s on the stage?”
“Jah. A six-piece, handcrafted, oak bedroom set.” Grandpa Silas squeezed through the trailer door, bringing with him the mingled scents of nearby grills barbecuing chicken, sausage, brisket, hamburgers, hot dogs, and an assortment of other tasty meats. Like his grandsons, Grandpa’s height stretched to only a few inches below the trailer’s ceiling. He still stood ramrod straight despite his sixty-plus years and the painful osteoarthritis that attacked his joints. “Everything’s ready. When did you become a worrywart?”
“He didn’t. He’s just trying to change the subject.” Jason brushed crumbs from his blond, runaway beard and threw his muffin wrapper into the trash.
Toby didn’t need a mirror to know what he looked like. His younger brother had the same slate-blue eyes, blond hair, broad shoulders, and height as Toby did. Except Jason’s marital status had been rewarded with the beard. “He’s twenty-nine and no closer to being married than he was a year ago. I don’t care, but Mamm sure does.”
Mom had a good heart and a streak of stubbornness when it came to her children’s happiness. They’d better be content or she would know why. Maybe this would be the year Toby made her happy and gave her another daughter-in-law. How would he do that? Toby caught himself shaking his head. A man his age didn’t go to singings, that was for sure. The words of his once-special friend echoed in his head: “What woman would want to spend half the year raising children by herself while her husband plied his trade at auctions across five states?”
His mother, grandmother, and Jason’s wife all did it, but not Janey Hershberger. It took her two years of courting to figure out she couldn’t see herself living that way. “You may think it’s normal, Toby, but no fraa wants to be at home alone half the year while you gallivant across the countryside.”
Toby shrugged on his jacket and settled his black hat farther back on his head. He was content with his life. Really, he was. Absolutely content. Really.
“Your mamm knows how important family is to a Plain man.” A faint grimace etched on his grizzled face, Grandpa rubbed his swollen knuckles. “Family comes second only to faith.”
Silas Miller started the auctioneering company in his midtwenties at a time when Plain communities frowned on the use of microphones and electricity for auctions. He overcame the objections and gained permission from the district to build a business that now supported three generations of Millers. A grandson didn’t argue with a man of his experience. “Mamm also knows what it costs a fraa to have her mann traveling away from home half the year. It hasn’t been easy for her.”
“Nor for your groossmammi either.” Grandpa tugged a prescription bottle from a knapsack on the counter. He winced as he turned the lid and dumped two pills into his callused palm. “But I’ve never heard either one of them complain. Whatever you decide about courting is your business.”
“Danki, Daadi.” Toby rolled his eyes at his brother. Jason stuck out his tongue. He didn’t always act like a married man with three kids and another on the way. Toby gave him another eye roll. “Grow up, Bruder.”
“You first.”
The trailer door swung open and stayed open, bringing with it a gust of cold air. Dad stood at the bottom of the steps. “Did you all fall asleep in there? It’s time to get this show started.”
“They were jawing me to death.” Grandpa bolted for the steps faster than a man half his age. “You know how they are right before they get on the platform.”
Antsy. That’s how they got. Full of pee and vinegar, to quote Grandma Joanna.
Toby hopped over the steps and landed in the sparse, tender blades of grass just beginning to sprout this first week of March after a long, cold winter. Jason settled in beside him. Their brothers Declan and Elijah joined them with the two oldest Miller men in the lead. They were on the job.
At the platform they parted ways, ready to do their parts. Declan would handle the second auction of garden and farming equipment, while Jason had the third auction of livestock. Orville Katzman, who’d hired their company to handle the huge multifamily moving-slash-estate auction, met Toby at the bottom of the wooden steps. He handed Toby an updated list for the household goods auction. “How’re you, Toby? Are you ready? I hear you’re a bit older today.”
“I’m ready, willing, and able.”
To prove his point Toby snared the list and bounded up the steps. Taking his turn as auctioneer today served as the best birthday present ever. First up, get a feel for the crowd. He gazed out at the sea of farm equipment hats, baseball caps, straw hats, bonnets, black wool coats, and scarves that protected heads from a brisk, chilly March breeze. Some folks, coffee travel mugs in hand, lounged in their canvas camp chairs.
Others stood in clusters along the periphery or settled onto two sets of portable bleachers toward the back of the grassy field. They all talked at once, creating a swell of noise not unlike a flock of blue jays chattering. As casual as they might appear to the untrained eye, they were ready. They had their auction bid cards in their laps. They’d come to buy. And it was Toby’s job to sell. Nothing could be better than the first auction of the spring season.
The usual bevy of young girls—sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years old—occupied the first row. It happened at every auction. They occasionally bid on small items but rarely bought anything. Jason called them Toby’s fan club. Emmett mostly glowered at them. Toby ignored them. They were harmless, but he was careful not to encourage them.
Adrenaline made his heart pump harder. His fingers tingled with anticipation. His whole body warmed. His cadence organized words in his head and prepared to slide toward the tip of his tongue. Who’ll give me ten dollars. Bid ten. Ten. Ten. Bid. Now fifteen.
He strode to the auctioneer’s table and picked up the microphone. His fingers held it lightly. Otherwise they would cramp before the end of the day. He took a swig from his water bottle and cleared his throat. The crowd quieted. He nodded at Elijah and Emmett. They would act as bid spotters, pointing out bidders he might miss. Elijah ducked his head and nodded. Emmett, who was younger but more outgoing, gave Toby a big thumbs-up. “Ready when you are, Bruder.”
“Wait a minute.” A smirk stretched across his face, Orville strolled over to Toby. He held out his hand. “Let me make a quick announcement.”
What was he up to? A change in the consignments wouldn’t give Orville an expression like a kid about to snatch a cookie from the cookie jar. Warily Toby handed over the mic.
“Folks, could I have your attention please? I want to take a quick moment to share two pieces of news with you.” Orville had a high-pitched, whiny voice not suited to amplification. “Number one, today is our auctioneer’s birthday. Can you folks give Toby Miller a nice, big happy birthday round of applause?”
Heat singed Toby’s neck and face. He ducked his head. It was one thing to be the center of attention for the sake of his job, another for a birthday—everyone had them. No need to make a public spectacle about it. “Orville—”
A chorus of birthday wishes in both English and Pennsylvania Dutch drowned out his protest. Several folks began to sing. Applause rang out. Toby shook his head. “Thank you, thank you.”
“Announcement number two, folks.” The crowd quieted. Orville moved to the platform’s edge. He pointed at Toby’s grandpa, who’d been busy making sure the furniture was properly lined up. “Many of you have been coming to these auctions for years. You know Silas Miller, founder of Miller Family Auctioneers Company. You know he started this business many moons ago, and his company has been our go-to company every year since. I thought you should know this will be his last auction here at the Knowles County Fairgrounds. He’s retiring. Could you give him a hand, let him know how much you appreciate all his years of hard work?”
What? Something was wrong with Toby’s hearing.
Grandpa never sat still. He loved to work. He loved auctioneering. He loved traveling. For a few seconds no one reacted. Toby opened his mouth. He closed it.
Then the people were on their feet, clapping. Grandpa hardly seemed to notice. He kept right on working, the way he always had.
As if nothing had changed.
His absence would change everything. He wasn’t just the boss, the administrator, the founder. He was a fixture in every good memory Toby had growing up—on and off the road. He was the level that kept the Miller men on an even keel mile after mile, year after year.
Such thoughts were selfish. Toby shoved them aside. If Grandpa felt the need to rest easy more permanently, he’d earned the right. Time for Toby to step up and take the load from his elder.
Dad couldn’t do it, much as he might try. Grandpa handled the bookkeeping, record keeping, and bill paying. Dad had an aversion to anything that involved reading or writing. Nor was he a fan of the technology required to promote their business, now that it covered an ever-growing region. Who would take over scheduling, maintenance of the trailers and equipment, and working with the folks who took care of the company’s website and did the computer work?
Toby sought out his father, who was moving an oak curio cabinet with Emmett. His expression grim, he shook his head and mouthed the words I’ll explain later.
Right now they had an auction to run.
Later, indeed.

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