by Marta Perry
The buggy turned onto the main road and headed away from town toward the Mueller farm. Lydia swung to study her face. “Komm now. You may as well tell me.”
“Tell you what?” She tried to sound as if she didn’t know what Lydia was talking about, but it sounded hollow even to herself.
Lydia’s gaze grew skeptical. Beth, unable to ignore that look, shrugged. “All right. If you must know, I heard something that upset me today at the store.” She hesitated, wanting to tell it without getting into what had happened with Daniel.
“One of the drivers, an Englischer, asked where James was. And when I said he wasn’t here any longer, he...” She seemed to run out of breath. “He said that some husband must have chased him out of town.” She got it out in one breath.
Lydia didn’t speak, but her hand clasped Beth’s, and sympathy flowed from her in waves. “I’m sorry. He didn’t know who you were. When he finds out, he’ll feel like a monster.”
“There’s no reason he should ever find out,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to embarrass him. But it makes me think...” Her fingers tightened on Lydia’s hand. “That’s what everyone is saying, ain’t so? Everyone knows what James was like.”
“Not everyone.” Lydia was trying to soften it, but that didn’t help.
“Everyone who knows him.” She had to accept it. “So they’re all either feeling sorry for me or laughing at me. Which is it?”
“Ach, don’t be so foolish,” Lydia scolded. “Most people just recognized James’s outgoing personality. As long as you didn’t seem upset about it, no one else would take it that way.”
“Obviously that driver did.” Beth shook her head impatiently. “It doesn’t matter, not for me. But Benjy—what if Benjy heard something like that about his father?” She tried to imagine dealing with that, trying to explain it to a four-year-old, but couldn’t.
Lydia was silent as the buggy negotiated the turn into Mueller’s lane. “He’s not old enough,” she said finally. “If he heard something, he wouldn’t understand it, would he?”
“I guess not,” she admitted. “Not now. But someday.”
“I know you want to protect him.” Lydia patted her arm. “But when the day comes that he asks you about it...well, by then it should be easier.”
Somehow Beth couldn’t imagine the time when it would be easier, but she knew Lydia was trying to help, and she was thankful.
Chapter Six
Lydia’s buggy stopped at the back door, where Esther’s husband and their oldest boy stood waiting to take the horse and buggy. He greeted them with a grin.
“Are you two ready for a night of talking? I don’t know how you can find so much to say to each other, that’s certain sure.”
“The same way you men find so much to say after worship or when you go to the hardware store,” Lydia replied, never at a loss for words, as usual.
Beth, not so talkative, just smiled, following her.
But at the door, Beth hesitated, doubts assailing her. Was this really a good idea? Was it too soon to come back? She gave her black skirt a shake to fluff out the wrinkles. She wanted nothing so much as to be normal this evening, talking and reminiscing with her childhood friends. The black dress marked her out as different.
She couldn’t retreat now, so she walked into the kitchen, where several of the gang were helping themselves to coffee. “Go on into the living room,” Esther said, making shooing motions with her hands. “I’ll bring dessert in when it’s ready.” She caught sight of Beth then and came toward her, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Ach, Beth, I’m wonderful glad you came. Lydia said she’d bring you, but I...”
“You thought I’d resist,” Beth said, embracing her. “You know it’s no use resisting when Lydia’s decided you should do something.”
“She’s like a horse within sight of the barn.” Esther grinned as she hugged her. “Get your coffee and head on into the other room. I don’t know why everyone always wants to linger in the kitchen.”
“Because it smells so gut,” Beth replied, feeling more relaxed every moment.
“Because we like to get in your way,” Lydia added.
Picking up their cups, they followed the sound of talk toward the front of the farmhouse.
Beth gave a quick look around. It seemed they were all present. There had been twenty girls in their original group, and every one of them had stayed here in the area. Except for her cousin Miriam, and Miriam was in Ohio helping her sister with a new baby and visiting her aunt and uncle there. She’d surely be home soon.
Beth found a seat next to Ella Esch. Beyond Ella was her twin, Della. The two of them had married the Esch brothers, second cousins of James, and now lived in two cottages on the Esch family’s dairy farm. It wasn’t all that unusual for two sisters to marry two brothers, but it certain sure added to the confusion, especially with such a common name as Esch.
Ella clasped her hand warmly. “We’re wonderful glad you came. Since the accident—” She stopped, flushing a little, and then blurted out, “I told my Davey I didn’t want him going out on that lonely road at night. I don’t want to lose him.”
No sooner had the words gotten out than Della started scolding, quickly echoed by everyone who was close enough to hear. Ella flushed bright red up to her hair and hid her face.
Beth sat perfectly still for a moment. That was it, and she hadn’t realized it. The awkwardness with them wasn’t just because she was a widow now. It was because they feared if it happened to her, it could happen to them.
“It’s all right...” she began, only to be drowned out by Della’s scolding.
“You are the most tactless person in the world.” She looked as if she’d like to shake her twin the way she’d done when they were six. “Apologize to Beth.”
“I’m sorry.” Ella raised a tearstained face, and Beth reached out with a handkerchief to blot the tears away.
“It’s all right, really.” She gave Ella a quick hug. “I understand. And it’s gut to remind our loved ones to be careful.” She kept her voice calm and light, even though she was still shaking a little inside.
Still, she was just as glad it had happened. Poor Ella. Her habit of saying exactly what she was thinking had gotten her into trouble in school more times than they could count. But this time the fault, if that was what it was, had helped Beth understand what other women were feeling when they looked at her.
“None of us has changed, yah?” Beth looked around the circle of faces. She wanted to go on, wanted to say that the black clothing didn’t change who she was inside, but she hesitated, afraid they wouldn’t understand.
But her words had banished the awkward moment, and when Esther began forcing pieces of peach pie on them, they were quickly back to normal.
“What’s happening with your cousin Miriam, Beth? We thought she’d be back with us by this month.”
“She intended to come back by the time her sister’s boppli was six weeks old, but the older children got some kind of a bug, and they’ve been sick one after another. So of course Miriam felt she had to stay.”
Esther’s eyes twinkled. “I thought maybe she’d met a wonderful nice man and was courting.”
“Not unless she’s keeping it a secret from us,” Lydia said. “She’d better not be keeping secrets from her favorite cousins.” She smiled at Beth, and it seemed the smile carried assurance. You’re doing fine, yah?
The talk drifted to children, as it often did—the way little girls grew out of their clothes while the boys wore out of them, the need for a couple of new swings at the schoolyard, and the challenge of keeping the little ones from catching everything the older ones got.
“How is your little Benjy doing, Beth?” Della leaned toward her.
“He’s doing fine. My niece Janie is with him now. She’s willing to watch him while I’m at the store if
I need her, although he seems happy enough at the store. I thought he might feel shy, but he enjoys it.”
“Just like his daadi, then,” Ella said. “James was always smiling in the store.”
Beth froze for a moment, trying to hold a meaningless smile on her face. Was she imagining it, or had the other women frozen, too?
She looked down at the cup she still held before setting it carefully on the table next to her. All of them would have seen James at the store. Probably most of them had talked to him when she wasn’t around.
How many of them had watched James flirting with other women? Had they been pitying her all this time?
Maybe it was worse. Maybe one of them had been the woman who’d written that note.
She was back in the trap, running around and around, searching for the truth. Wondering if she would ever know. Or if she could find peace without it.
* * *
Daniel glanced at the clock when he saw Beth and Benjy coming the next morning. They were about ten minutes later than usual, not that it mattered. He was happy to have her come whenever she could make it. Every day that passed seemed to make her more a part of the business.
“I’m sorry we’re late.” She glanced at the clock as he had. “I don’t know why we couldn’t get moving this morning.”
“You’re one of the bosses,” he said lightly. “You can come whenever you want.” His gaze fell on Benjy just as the boy gave a huge yawn and rubbed his eyes. Daniel chuckled. “I think I see why.”
Beth’s lips trembled on the verge of a smile. “It’s not entirely his fault. I got together with my rumspringa gang last night, so Janie came to stay with him. And he always manages to get one more game or story out of his cousin Janie before she puts him to bed.”
Benjy seemed to realize they were talking about him. “Cousin Janie likes to play games and tell stories,” he protested.
“I know. I do, too. But bedtime is important.”
“Especially when you’re getting up to go to work in the morning,” Daniel added, winking at Benjy to show that he was joking.
Benjy twinkled back, looking marginally more awake. “I should see what Timothy is doing,” he said, and darted off toward the back of the store.
“Speaking of Janie, she’s going to watch him a couple of mornings a week, so that Benjy won’t be here every day.” She glanced at him, as if wanting to see his reaction.
“We love having him here,” Daniel protested, concerned about what was behind this decision. She wasn’t regretting the idea of staying involved with the store, was she? His dismay at that was probably obvious to her.
She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re very kind, but I think it’s best if he has a break sometimes. And Janie’s eager to have a job, so it works out all around.”
He couldn’t very well argue, but... “We’ll miss Benjy when he isn’t here. Timothy likes having somebody younger around.” He grinned. “He’s used to having young ones around. But sometimes I think he’d rather be an only one.”
Beth chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Isn’t that always the case? I think being in the middle is best.”
His heart warmed at seeing her looking so much like her old self. “Me, too. There’s always plenty of room to distribute blame when somebody’s in trouble. Whoever’s oldest usually gets held responsible.”
Her smile faded, and her face became thoughtful. “We don’t know what it’s like to be an only child, do we?”
She was thinking about James, he felt sure. He hesitated, leaning against the counter while he tried to make up his mind what to say.
“James seemed happy to be an only child,” he commented finally.
“Yah.” Trouble still darkened her eyes.
Clearly, he hadn’t helped. “I used to think...”
“What?” Beth studied his face, as if trying to read more than he’d said.
“I kind of envied him. He didn’t have chores to do, living in town like he did. My daad never ran out of jobs for us to do if he caught us wasting time.” He smiled, remembering. “And his mamm didn’t say no nearly as much as my mamm did.”
“I don’t suppose she did.” Beth seemed to focus on her mother-in-law, and she wasn’t smiling.
That didn’t surprise him. Sarah Esch had always been one to fuss over a person, and as a mother-in-law, she’d fuss twice as much, he’d imagine. Beth wasn’t one to like that.
Beth seemed to shake off thoughts of her mother-in-law. “I should get to work. I’ll finish updating the inventory of canned goods I started.”
He nodded, watching her go. There had been moments when the conversation had been as comfortable and relaxed as ever, but then he started feeling he hadn’t been very helpful. There was something behind her troubled look, and he wasn’t sure what it was. The truck driver’s comments? Or something else?
His musing was interrupted by Benjy tugging at his pants. “Are we going to fix that step? You said I could help.” Benjy fixed his wide-eyed gaze on Daniel.
The boy was not only smart and talkative. He was also determined.
“Yah, sure.” It had to be done, so it might as well be now. “Komm, we’ll get the tools.”
Benjy skipped along beside him as they walked to the back door. “I like fixing things,” he said. “Don’t you?”
Daniel smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yah, I do. Especially when I have someone like you to help.”
“Gut.”
Once they’d reached the rickety step, he squatted down to examine it, amused when Benjy mimicked his motion, balancing on his heels and putting his elbows on his knees.
“See how the step is working away on this one side? This nail is loose, ain’t so?”
Benjy wiggled it with a small finger. “Yah. We’ll put a new one in, won’t we?”
“We will,” he agreed. “You hold the hammer while I get the nails out.”
Benjy grasped the hammer with both hands, his small face intent and proud.
Daniel’s heart warmed at the sight. Here, at least, was a way he could help.
* * *
To Beth’s surprise, she and Benjy found her mother waiting on the back porch for them when they went home. Benjy rushed forward for a hug, and Beth wasn’t far behind him.
“Ach, this is a nice surprise.” She relished the feel of her mother’s arms around her. “Will you stay for lunch?”
Mammi smiled, her blue eyes twinkling as she held up the basket she’d parked on the floor. “Better. I brought a picnic for the three of us.”
Benjy was already bouncing with pleasure, and he tried to take the basket, but Beth forestalled him. “We’ll need something to sit on, yah? You bring the rag rugs we keep in the back closet.”
He darted off, and Mammi chuckled. “That boy has more energy than the two of us put together.”
“Easily.” She picked up the basket. “This is a nice idea. I was just thinking that I hadn’t seen you since Sunday.”
Her mother linked arms with her as Benjy hurried out, his arms loaded with the rugs. “It’s time for a talk, ain’t so?”
“What’s in the basket, Grossmammi?” Benjy stretched himself on tiptoe for a moment, trying to see in, but a striped tea towel hid the contents.
“We’ll see when we get to the picnic spot,” she said, smiling so sweetly at him that Beth’s heart warmed. “You remember where we went last time?”
Benjy nodded vigorously. “Up there.” He pointed toward the orchard. “I’ll put out the rugs.”
The sight of him trying to carry the rugs and run at the same time had Beth smiling. No matter how many grandchildren she had, her mother had time and love for each one.
“I want to hear all about working at the store, but I guess we’d best feed this hungry boy first.”
Mammi helped Benjy spread out the rugs. Sitting down, she took the
basket and started lifting out food, putting it on the tea towel.
“Sandwiches with church spread.” Benjy’s eyes widened at his favorite—the spread of peanut butter and marshmallow cream that was so popular with the young ones. He looked as if he’d say more, but his mouth was quickly plugged with the sticky mixture.
Beth was glad to see that her mother had included meat and cheese sandwiches. She’d outgrown her love for church spread before she was out of her teens. Finding a spot on a rug, she relaxed, taking in the scent of apples that filled the air with its reminder of harvest. If she’d been blindfolded and brought here, she’d have known where she was without looking. No other place could smell quite this way.
Mammi began telling Benjy a story as they ate, and Beth leaned back on her elbows, enjoying the warm fall afternoon. Off to the right from where they sat, she could see Daniel’s family farm, with his mamm out in the backyard hanging up clothes. To the left lay her parents’ farm, but the curve of the hill hid most of the house. Daadi was in the pasture next to the road, mending fence before any of the cows took a notion to go looking for greener grass.
The curve of the road bounded the property, and the store sat there, almost directly in front of her. With the ridge behind her, nearly everything she could see was her place in the world, and Benjy’s. That was as it should be. Even fatherless, Benjy would grow up surrounded on all sides by people who loved him.
Benjy leaned across his rug to hug his grandmother. “Denke. That was a wonderful gut picnic.”
She squeezed him back, smiling, and turned back to Beth as Benjy skipped off through the windfall apples. “It’s hard to resist that little one. He has his daadi’s charm.” She paused for a moment. “But he has your heart for other people, too. He’ll be all right.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Beth said quickly, sensitive on that subject.
“Komm, Beth.” Her mother patted her hand. “That quality in James caused you sorrow sometimes, ain’t so?”