by Jan Drexler
Rose came out of her bedroom just as they came into the kitchen.
“I want to talk to you.” She sat at the table, set for supper with cold chicken, bread and vegetables from the garden. “Mari has gone to bed, and it’s time we cleared up a few things.”
Andrew sighed. Rose was taking control again.
“I’m going back to Iowa.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sit down, Andrew. You, too, Bethany.”
Andrew didn’t sit. “You can’t go back to Iowa, at least not until the drought is over.”
“The train leaves at noon tomorrow. I want you to drive me to the station.”
“I won’t let you go.”
“Rose,” Bethany said. “What happened to make you decide this so suddenly? Is it the disagreement you had with Daed?”
Rose fixed her eyes on Andrew. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
Andrew sat, waiting to hear the excuse she had thought up for this plan.
“I know what you’ve done.” She folded her hands in front of her on the table, not looking at either one of them. “I saw it while Mari was sick, but I didn’t want to believe it. Just now, when I put her to bed, I had to face it.” She looked at Bethany, then at Andrew. “Your marriage is a lie. You are living separate lives under this roof and aren’t building a Christian family for Mari the way you led me to believe. In fact, I don’t even think the two of you love each other.”
Andrew couldn’t look at Bethany. “But we are married. You were there and witnessed the ceremony.”
“I can also tell the bishop the other things I’ve witnessed. Separate bedrooms? That is not the way married couples live.” She laid her hands flat on the table. “It isn’t too late to have this marriage annulled and bring both of you before the church for discipline.”
“You can’t do that,” Bethany said. “It isn’t right.”
“I can do that. Mari is my granddaughter, and her welfare is my first concern. I can’t let her live in a family based on lies.” Rose stood. “I’m bringing this matter to the bishop first thing in the morning.”
Andrew buried his face in his hands as she walked out of the room.
“What are we going to do?” Bethany asked.
When he didn’t answer, she jostled his shoulder.
“Andrew, what are you going to do? You have to stop her.”
“I’ve never been able to stop her. When she sets her mind to something, it happens. All we can hope is that the bishop won’t believe her.”
“But she’s right. Not that our marriage is a lie, but about—about the rest of it.”
“That’s no reason to ask for us to be brought up before the church.”
Bethany leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. A fly buzzed around the plate of chicken.
“This all comes back to Lily, doesn’t it? You treat her mother as if she’s a steam kettle about to blow up because that’s the way Lily always treated her. It’s time for you to take a stand, Andrew. You need to tell Rose that she can’t ruin our lives.”
He had to do the hard thing. Bethany was right. Rose had gotten her own way too often.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning, before she goes to the bishop. Maybe she’ll be thinking more clearly, and I’ll be able to reason with her.”
Bethany started covering the food, preparing to put it away in the springhouse, but Andrew snatched a piece of cold chicken from the plate first. She might not be hungry, but he was. And he had to fortify himself for his confrontation with Rose in the morning.
When Andrew woke the next day, the sky held the pale gray light that came just before dawn. He dressed and went out to the barn. The time to talk to Rose would come soon enough, after the morning chores were done. She certainly wouldn’t try to see the bishop before breakfast.
But when he got to the stalls, only Dandy was there, waiting for his morning hay and oats. Andrew filled both feed boxes, then went through Whiskers’ stall to the pasture to call him in. The horse wasn’t there. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see that the fence was down anywhere, but could Whiskers have jumped the fence? Or perhaps he had pushed through the gate.
It wasn’t until Andrew came back into the barn that he saw that the spring wagon was missing. He swallowed down the panic that sought to engulf him. He forced himself to think. Who would take the horse and wagon, and why?
Rose. Would she have driven herself to Bishop’s house so early? Or had she gone on to the train station?
He started toward the house, but before he crossed the gravel drive, Bethany appeared at the back door.
“Mari’s gone,” she called, her voice shrill. “She isn’t anywhere, and neither is Rose.”
* * *
“When I came downstairs and Rose wasn’t in the kitchen, I didn’t wonder about it. Sometimes she sleeps later than we do.” Bethany struggled to talk through her tears. Andrew held her, cradling her head against his shoulder. “But when I went to wake Mari, and she wasn’t there, I panicked. Then I saw that her clothes were gone, and her doll.”
“I found that Whiskers was gone, and the spring wagon.” Andrew held her away from him, so he could see her face. “Did you check? Did Rose take her things?”
Bethany nodded. “Do you think Rose took Mari when she went to talk to the bishop?”
Andrew shook his head, and Bethany’s insides turned over. “I think she plans to take Mari to Iowa with her.”
“She—she can’t do that. Mari isn’t completely well yet. What is Rose thinking?”
“She isn’t thinking straight, that’s for sure.” He turned her toward the house. “Get ready to go to town with me. I’m going to borrow Jonah’s buggy. We’ll stop her at the station before she even gets on the train.”
As Bethany started up the porch steps, he stopped her. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll find them.”
“You’re sure?”
Andrew nodded. “I’m sure.”
He started toward Daed’s house at a run while Bethany went inside. She got her bonnet and the bag she carried when she went to town. At the last minute, as she heard the buggy coming up the lane, she put out the fire in the kitchen stove.
When she got out to the buggy, Daed was sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Andrew remembered that he hadn’t milked the cow yet.” Daed’s face was lined with grief. “But we’ll leave as soon as he’s done.”
“Did Rose give you any idea that she was thinking of doing this?”
He shook his head. “I think I must have pushed her too far when I insisted that she needed to sell the farm in Iowa. I hadn’t realized that it meant so much to her.”
“I heard you talking to her about marriage yesterday. Were you serious?”
“For sure, I was. Ever since she came, my life has been different. We have our disagreements about some things, but that makes life interesting.”
“She isn’t anything like Mamm.”
Daed whooshed out a breath. “You’re right about that, except that Rose needs me, just like your mother did. I think we would have a good life together, and she would enjoy living here.” Daed ran his fingers through his beard. “I even thought that maybe she had feelings for me, too.”
Bethany patted Daed’s arm. “I think she does. She has been much happier the last few weeks, ever since we noticed that a prowler was coming around our house at night. Now that I know it was you visiting Rose, everything makes sense.”
Andrew came out of the barn at a trot and jumped into the buggy next to Bethany. “Now we can go. Should we go to the bishop’s house first, or straight to the train depot?”
“We’ll go straight to Shipshewana.” Daed picked up the reins and Melba started off at a trot. “Whether she goes to the bishop or not, we know she’s going to end up at the train station. We’ll meet her th
ere.”
“What if she refuses to come home with us?” Bethany asked. “I know we can keep her from taking Mari, but we can’t let Rose get on that train. She belongs here.”
Andrew had put one arm along the back of the seat to brace himself, and now he dropped his hand down to Bethany’s shoulder. “I thought you wanted her to leave.”
“I did, once. But she has changed, or maybe I’ve changed. We work together now, and what would we have done without her when Mari was so ill? She knew just what to do.” Bethany chewed on her lower lip. “And you’re right. We can’t let her go back to Iowa until the drought is over.”
They drove in silence, each caught in their own thoughts. Bethany watched Melba’s ears as she trotted along the road. Why had Rose done such a thing? Sneaking away was one thing, but she had taken Mari. Stolen her out of her bed when the little girl was still recovering from the measles. Bethany’s hand clenched and unclenched. She longed to have Mari safe in her arms again, safe at home.
It was still early morning and there was no other traffic on the roads. Even the state highway was quiet as Daed turned the buggy north, toward town.
“What will we say when we see her?” Bethany asked. “What if she...well, what if she isn’t in her right mind?”
“I don’t think we need to worry about that. We all know how headstrong Rose is, and she will do almost anything to make things go her way,” Daed said. “She needs to understand that we won’t let her take Mari back to Iowa, and that we want her to stay here, too.” He stopped Melba at the stop sign in the middle of town, then drove on to the train depot in the next block. “I’ll handle Rose. You two take care of Mari.”
The station platform was empty when they drove up, but Whiskers was tied to the hitching rail. The spring wagon was empty.
“Where could she be?” Andrew asked as he jumped out of the buggy, then helped Bethany out.
“Inside the depot, most likely.” Daed’s face and voice were grim as he strode toward the door of the passenger waiting room.
For sure, there was Rose, sitting on a bench with Mari sleeping on her lap. Daed sat beside her, while Andrew led Bethany to the bench facing her. No one else was in the room this early.
“How did you find me?” Rose tucked the blanket around Mari’s shoulders.
“You didn’t hide where you were going,” Daed said. “But why did you take Mari?”
“I couldn’t bear to leave her.” Rose’s eyes glistened with tears. One trickled down her cheek. “She’s my only grandchild, and all I have left of my dear Lily.”
“But she isn’t your daughter. She’s Andrew’s daughter, and Bethany’s. She belongs with them.”
“I only want the best for her.”
“Why isn’t being with her father and mother the best?”
The corners of Rose’s mouth turned down. “Are you aware that your daughter has been living a lie? That those two don’t have a true marriage?”
Daed took Rose’s hand. “I know that when Andrew and Bethany got married, they didn’t think they loved each other. It was too soon after Lily’s passing for Andrew, and four years had gone by since they had been together. But I trust that love will grow.” He looked at them and smiled. “I think it’s growing before our eyes.”
Bethany glanced at Andrew, catching his surprised gaze. Why did Daed think they were beginning to love each other?
Daed focused on Rose’s hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “I told Andrew last week that love isn’t a feeling, it’s a choice. They can choose to love each other or not, and what they choose will make all the difference in their lives.” He cleared his throat. “The same is true for us. We can choose to love each other and pledge our lives to each other, or we can remain as we are, two lonely people trying to forge our own path through life.”
“I don’t want to give up my past...”
Rose’s voice faltered as Daed put one arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him.
“You’ll always have memories of your past, but I want you to decide to spend your future with me. I want to be the one to protect you, to love you and to spoil you.”
“And to keep me from doing silly things like sitting in an empty train station?” Rose smiled at him.
“Ja, for sure.” Daed pulled her close and kissed the top of her bonnet. “Come home with me and be my wife and the mother my boys need.”
Rose smiled. “Those boys need a lot of mothering.”
“They certainly do. And Mari needs a grandmother who loves her dearly.”
Mari stirred, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Mamma?”
Rose turned the little girl so she could see Andrew. “Your daed is right there.”
Mari slid off Rose’s lap and climbed into Bethany’s.
“Are you all right?” Bethany asked.
Mari nodded. “I’m hungry. And my spots are almost gone.” She snuggled into Bethany’s arms. “Will they come back?”
“I hope not,” Bethany said, holding her close.
“Well,” Daed said, “it’s time to go home. Give me your train ticket, Rose, and I’ll try to get your money back.”
“I don’t have a ticket.” Rose stood up, brushing her skirt. “The booth isn’t open yet.”
“It’s a good thing we came along when we did,” Daed said, picking up Rose’s bag. “Otherwise you might be on your way back to Iowa.”
Rose frowned at him. “You know that I fully intended to travel to Iowa today.”
“Why did you let me stop you?”
“I knew that if you really wanted to marry me, you wouldn’t let me get on that train. But if you weren’t serious, I was ready to take Mari home and get on with our lives there.”
“It’s a good thing that I’m a serious man, then.” He led the way out to the buggy.
Andrew took Mari and Bethany slipped her hand into his elbow as they walked out. She was happy that Rose and Daed were finally settled. But all this talk of love echoed hollowly. No matter what Daed said, she knew her marriage to Andrew would always be just a convenient arrangement. He would always hold Lily first in his heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Once Rose and Jonah’s wedding was announced at church the next Sunday, Andrew thought he could start to trust his mother-in-law again. But the fear of knowing how easily Rose had taken Mari from him stayed with him. He even found himself waking in the middle of the night and going to Mari’s bedroom. He would kiss her forehead, satisfying himself that she had no fever, and that she was safe. The interrupted sleep was taking a toll, though. He had trouble keeping up with his work, especially after dinner.
On Wednesday afternoon, when Bethany had taken Mari upstairs for her nap, he went out to the front porch. He had gone to Shipshewana that morning to finish the work on Dr. Hoover’s porch and had brought home the old posts and rails that had rotted at the bottom. The rest of the wood was still usable, though, and Andrew thought he would build a pigsty. Before he started on that project, though, he planned to rest his eyes for a few minutes as he sat in the rocking chair.
He was nearly asleep when he heard the screen door open. Someone walked quietly to the swing and sat on it, and he knew it must be Bethany. He waited for the quiet squeak of the chains as she started swinging, and when he didn’t hear it, he opened his eyes. Rose was sitting on the swing as if she was waiting to talk to him.
“I need your help,” she said when she saw he was awake.
“For sure. What kind of help? Do you want me to get something for you?”
Rose shook her head. “Not that kind of help.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “When Jonah and I wed, then Bethany will be my stepdaughter.”
Andrew nodded. “And the boys will be your stepsons.”
“But Bethany and I have had a difficult time getting along sometimes, and I’ve noticed a
difference since she found out that I’m marrying her father.”
“She says she’s happy about it.”
Rose smoothed the edge of her apron against her knee. “I think she’s happy that Jonah is pleased. I’m not sure she likes the idea of me stepping into her mother’s place.”
“Just like you didn’t like her stepping into Lily’s place.”
The older woman’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She pleated the edge of her apron, then smoothed it again. “I treated her rather harshly, didn’t I?”
“She knew you were still grieving about Lily’s passing.”
“That is no excuse for how I acted.” Rose sighed. “But I hope you never have to experience losing a child.”
Andrew leaned forward. “I nearly thought I had, when you disappeared with Mari.”
“Like I did when you brought her here to Indiana.”
“It’s different. She’s your granddaughter, but she’s my daughter.”
“You knew she was safe with me.”
“I thought she was with you, but I didn’t know if she was safe or not until I saw her sleeping on your lap in the train station.”
“You know I would never hurt my own granddaughter.”
Drawing a deep breath, Andrew went on. “But I didn’t know that. Mari is my daughter. My responsibility.” He leaned closer. “She’s my whole life. Think about how you would feel if someone had taken Lily away from you without your permission or knowledge.”
Rose blinked back tears. “I never thought of it that way.” She drew her hand back. “Lemuel always complained that I was hardheaded and hard-hearted.”
“But what does Jonah say?”
A small smile broke through. “He says I’m hardheaded, but that he’s worked with mules before and he’ll make me behave.”
Andrew laughed. “You didn’t let that comment go, did you?”
“I told him that he’s just as much of a mule as I am, so we should get along fine.”