by Jo Ann Brown
Bess bobbed her head. Ruth knew the mare. She was saying, “I got you here. Now get me my supper.” That reminded Ruth of her other charge. Dashing to the side door of the barn, she wrenched it open. There was a brief, startled call from Malachi before the howl of the wind shut out every other sound. Bowing her head against the buffeting snow, she pushed her way to the henhouse. Her cold fingers were clumsy on the door latch. Biting a chilled lower lip, she worked the frozen bolt from the latch, flung open the door and stumbled in.
Chapter Five
For a few heart-stopping moments, she couldn’t see. Then her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she located Rascal on the makeshift bed she’d made him that morning. He blinked his eyes open and stretched his miniature muzzle in a yawn, showing his pink tongue. She hastened over and swept him into her arms. Her heart finally slowed to normal for the first time all day as she nuzzled her cold nose into the top of his head. Waking quickly, Rascal licked the snow from her face.
Sufficiently certain of his well-being, Ruth tucked Rascal under her cape, took a deep breath and stepped outside. By half running, she managed to keep her feet under her in the blowing wind. She reached the side barn door and struggled with it with her one free hand. “Hang on, boy. It’s going to go flying when it opens.” Moments later, plastered against the door by the wind, she was losing hope when it jerked open, held by a firm arm that gave her just enough room to duck through to the relative quiet of the barn.
Rascal squirmed to get down. Ruth knelt and let him loose, the puppy erupting from beneath her cape like a magician’s trick. Once he had his bearings, he hurried to explore the enticing smells of the barn.
Ruth rose to face Malachi. To her relief, he was watching the dog. The tension that’d coiled in her shoulders over worries about Rascal and the nerve-racking drive home seeped away. Concerned she might not be able to stay upright without hanging on to something, she stepped over to Bess and continued the work of unharnessing the mare that her unexpected help had already started. Within seconds, she could see Malachi’s impassive face and snow-spattered hat over the top of the mare as he aided her efforts.
“New?”
Ruth didn’t ask what he meant. There had been so many new things in her life lately. Only one that had caused her to act more erratically than normal, though, and had just popped out from beneath her cape. “Ja. I adopted him last night.”
Malachi grunted in acknowledgment as he unbuckled the harness from the horse collar before removing the leather harness from Bess’s back. He gazed at Ruth with a questioning look and she pointed him toward the tack room. Grabbing a brush and rag from a shelf on the wall, she proceeded to wipe the damp mare down before leading her into her stall. Preliminary investigations complete, Rascal scampered over to help when Ruth set about feeding the mare. Having located the straw, Malachi scattered some additional bedding in Bess’s stall for the cold night.
When Malachi stepped out of the stall and secured the gate, Rascal bounced over to make his acquaintance. Malachi knelt to the wiggly black-and-white bundle and proved himself an experienced puppy petter, hitting all the important spots until Rascal rolled over, exposing his belly in ecstasy.
Malachi glanced up to meet Ruth’s watching gaze. “He’s a fine one,” he acknowledged as his fingers gently rubbed the silky tummy. “I suppose he’s worth a toy or two.” He shot a smile at Ruth before returning his attention to the puppy.
For a second, Ruth found it hard to breathe. When she remembered how, she drew in a long one, inhaling with it the comfortable smells of the barn—hay, horses and leather. The elusive feeling of peace flitted just out of her reach. She tore her attention away from the beguiling sight of man and dog and glanced across the barn to find Malachi’s gelding watching her hopefully.
She hurried over to the bay, grateful for the distraction. “Oh, you poor boy,” she crooned, rubbing his damp neck. “Can I get something for him?” She could hear Malachi’s movements behind her. A moment later, she saw his steady form beyond the edges of her bonnet’s brim.
“The rental place called him Kip. He’s been a fine horse. I’m going to keep him.” He rubbed the gelding’s neck on the opposite side. “No point in doing anything when we’re going right back into the storm, because we can’t stay.”
“No, you definitely cannot.” Their eyes met over Kip’s lowered head. “But at least let me get him a small bit of oats to eat while I fix you a thermos of coffee and warm up a brick for your feet on the trip.”
Malachi scratched the bay under the black forelock for a moment. “I suppose some hot coffee wouldn’t go amiss. I saw where the oats are stored. I’ll slip his bridle off and feed him some while you get the coffee.”
“I doubt he’ll go anywhere, but there’s a halter in the tack room if you want to use it.” She headed for the barn door, glancing in his buggy’s open door as she passed the vehicle. After a brief pause, she marched over to her buggy and pulled the quilt from its bench seat to toss it on the seat of Malachi’s buggy.
“I see you don’t have sense enough to keep blankets in your buggy in this type of weather.”
Malachi buckled the halter and then the oat bag over Kip’s head. “I’ve been doing a number of things over the past few days. Thinking about blankets hasn’t been very high on the list.”
She huffed. “Wisconsin weather will take a heavy toll on the unprepared.”
He pulled her forgotten grocery bags from her buggy. “Unprepared? Like not having dog food when you have a dog?”
Ruth scooped up the puppy that trailed at her heels and crossed to Malachi, her hand outstretched for the bags. He shook his head and retained possession of them.
“I’ll help you get to the house. With this wind and your small sizes, the two of you could end up in the next county.”
Aware that he had a point, she didn’t argue. They headed for the exit. Knowing she also owed him something more, she spoke to the wind-rattled door in front of her. “I...I want to thank you for going out of your way and following me home, even though I didn’t need it.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice was bland, but Ruth could hear a trace of smile in it. Her lips curved slightly in response as she prepared to face the gauntlet between them and the house.
Malachi held the jolting door in check as she, with the pup again under her cape, slipped through. Ruth started for the house while he secured the latch. Stumbling against the relentless wind, she would’ve fallen if a firm hand hadn’t grasped her elbow and pulled her upright. With one hand holding her close against him and the other pressed hard against his hat, Malachi guided them to the house. Once in the shelter of the porch, the wind dropped abruptly, as did Malachi’s hand.
Ruth tried not to miss its surprisingly comforting presence as she pushed open the unlocked door to the kitchen. Malachi paused in the doorway.
“Ach,” Ruth exclaimed, waving him in as she set the pup down. “You can’t stay, but you can at least come over the threshold.” Needing no further encouragement, Malachi entered and shut the door behind him. The ample kitchen seemed suddenly closet-size. Ruth busied herself with lighting a burner on the gas stove to make the coffee. Malachi stomped snow off his work shoes and pants before moving to the fireplace and starting a fire to chase the noticeable chill from the room.
The homey scene created a surprising ache in Ruth. She spoke quickly to dispel its unaccustomed appeal. “I’ll fix a sandwich for you for your drive home. You’ll have something to eat in case you get stuck in a ditch.”
“I don’t think starving would be my immediate issue, but that would be much appreciated.” He made quick work at the fireplace and soon a small blaze lent additional light and heat to the cozy room.
After hanging up her cape and bonnet on a nearby hook, Ruth nudged a few bricks scattered in the fireplace closer to the flames. She grabbed the puppy before he could launch himself in to investiga
te. Malachi reached out a hand when she crossed back to the counter. After a brief hesitation, Ruth handed Rascal to him. The ache intensified.
“Anything that isn’t something my brothers or I have prepared would be wunderbar. I’m liking Wisconsin, but there are things I miss about Ohio already, and my mamm’s meals are one of them.”
“The way I heard it, all the women within a reasonable distance have brought over some food. The single women anyway.” She kept her back to him as she cut thick slices of homemade bread.
“Ja.” There was a smile in the deep voice. “We’ve had a few meals brought over.”
Ruth took the knife to a leftover ham roast and cut equally thick slices. “I haven’t quite learned how to cook for one yet. I suppose I could bring something over when the unmarried community finishes feeding you.”
She heard a sound behind her. She wasn’t sure if it was a cough or a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he responded.
Ruth got out a clean dish towel to wrap the sandwich in. It was quiet for a moment. Then she heard him wander across the dining room.
“This is a fine piece.” There was reverence in his voice. Ruth turned her head to see him stroking the side of a bird’s-eye maple hutch with one hand while he gently held the grinning pup in the other.
She pivoted fully to face him and the piece. “Ya. Daed made that for me for Christmas last year,” Her tone was more melancholy than she intended.
Malachi rubbed the ears of the puppy cradled in his arm. “It’s beautiful. And I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No, it’s a gut memory. It’s the last piece he made me. He’d make me a piece every year. They started out small but kept getting bigger. There’s that stool, the bench, the table.”
Malachi studied the pieces. “The superior craftsmanship of the maker is easily recognized. Your daed was talented indeed.”
Ruth blinked against the tears that threatened at his sincere comments. “Upstairs is a dresser, a headboard. A hope chest. This year he was making me another piece. He wanted to finish it, but then illness overtook him. I’ve tried to work on it, but it isn’t the same. It was his project, not mine. Although I’d love to have it finished.” She swung back to face the counter before she lost the battle and tears swept down her cheeks. “I’ll figure it out somehow.”
The coffee was boiling on the stove. Ruth turned in relief in its direction. Steam emanated from the openings as she filled a thermos she’d located in the cupboard. Gathering the thermos and the sandwich, she faced the room again to find Malachi watching her. Their eyes met for a brief moment. She was the first to look away.
“Here, I’ll trade you,” Ruth said brusquely, handing him the sandwich and thermos and taking the pup into her arms, careful not to touch Malachi in the transition. “I’ll go back out to the barn with you as soon as I feed him.” She located the grocery bags Malachi had set down upon entering the kitchen and got out the small bag of puppy food. The sooner he left the better. His comfortable presence was creating a twinge of longing and that would never do with an Amish man, particularly one who was her new boss.
* * *
“No. You’ll stay in here.” Malachi was surprised at his adamant statement. He was less surprised at the indignant look she gave him in response. “I wouldn’t trust that you’d be able to make it back to the house with the wind. You’d blow past my buggy and spook Kip. Then who’d take care of him?” he concluded, gesturing toward the pup.
Ruth nodded as she dampened the small amount of food she’d poured into a bowl. As soon as she set it down, Rascal squirmed in her arms to join it on the floor. Once there, he needed no encouragement to eat.
“And if it’s this bad tomorrow, you stay home.” Malachi tried to keep a straight face. He said it just to rile her.
“I will not!” She glared at him before marching to the fireplace. Using tongs, she efficiently pulled a brick from the fire. Wrapping it in a thick quilted cloth, she strode over to hand it to him. “But I will be prepared for the trip. More so than you were tonight.”
Malachi pursed his lips and strolled over to the door. He’d won the battle he’d hoped to win.
“You better be safe going home. If anything happens to you because you helped me, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I think you take too much upon yourself. It is Gott that forgives us,” he said.
“That’s true. Hmm. Then I’ll never forgive you.”
“But we’re Amish. It’s our nature and responsibility to forgive,” he said. “Although you’re a rather unusual one.”
“Well, I’ll think about it, then.” She met his eyes, more than a hint of concern visible in the green depths. “Very hard. Just make sure you make it safely home.”
“It will be Gott’s will, but I’ll do my best. The gelding seems a decent sort. We’ll get through.”
“And don’t get lost on the way there. You’re new around here and the roads look different in the dark and snow.” Ruth was looking out the kitchen window at the wind-whipped night beyond. She clasped her hands at her waist. The knuckles showed white in the tight grip.
“I’ve heard that. Somehow for twenty-four years, I’ve managed to make it home safely.” Malachi waited until she moved her attention from the window to him. “Any reason you are so worried?”
She regarded him steadily for a moment. “The business would be up for sale again. You seem to know your way somewhat around furniture. It was extremely busy managing it alone and I have other things to work on. I don’t want to have to do it again so soon.” She almost smiled but managed to keep her expression solemn.
“I’ll do my best not to put your brick, thermos and quilt into the ditch, or get them irrevocably lost in Wisconsin.”
“See that you don’t.” Ruth admonished, bending to pick up the now-fed puppy to keep him from darting out when the door opened.
Malachi shifted the three items to one hand, pulled open the door and shut it firmly behind him when he stepped out on the porch. He grinned, feeling surprisingly warmer from her smile and concern than from the brick, whose heat was radiating through the thick cloth. The grin slowly faded as he took in the elements churning just off the edge of the porch.
The cold air stung his nose as he drew in a long breath. The barn was barely visible from the porch in the swirling snow. For sure and certain, it wouldn’t be a pleasant ride home. Malachi wondered if the gelding would find his way to his more recent lodgings, or revert to a previous shelter and leave Malachi stranded outside the rental facility. He’d shrug if he weren’t concerned his shoulders would freeze in that position. As he’d told Ruth, it was Gott’s will.
He descended the steps and bowed his head against the bite of the wind. It would be interesting if it was Gott’s will that he continue to ruffle the feathers of the bantam hen. The wind tried to blow him off course. Malachi glanced up, making sure he was still heading for the barn. He brushed by the fence of the abandoned chicken coop, recently converted to a puppy pen. No, Ruth wasn’t a small hen; she was a badger, with many more defenses. Malachi had thought he’d left the foolish, adolescent desire to provoke a prickly creature long behind in his youth.
Apparently not.
Chapter Six
Ruth looked out the window until she could make out the gelding and buggy emerging from the barn. Malachi’s figure was barely visible when he stepped out to wrestle the barn doors shut. She continued to watch as the buggy rolled out of the barnyard and down the lane, turning back to the kitchen when the lights on the buggy disappeared in the whirling snow.
“Well, Rascal,” she said with a sigh as she regarded the pup in her arms. “We may have agreed not to escort him to the barn, but we still need to go out into the snow. You have some business to attend to outside. What do you think?”
Rascal licked her cheek, making Ruth smile. A laugh was beyond her reach when her mind was f
ocused on the conditions Malachi was facing on his ride home. Bundling up against the weather, she took the pup out on the leeward side of the house. Unfettered gusts just a few feet from where she and the pup huddled whisked away the breath vapor that rose from her encouragement. Snatching him up before he began to run off and explore, Ruth hustled back into the warmth and safety of the kitchen.
Malachi was on her mind the rest of the evening. How useful one of the cell phones that young men sometimes carried during their rumspringa would be tonight. Malachi could call if he got into trouble or call when he got home safe. She would say thank you, and then what? She had no claim on him. She wouldn’t be working with him for long. Certainly he’d seemed much more pleasant and fun than she’d anticipated. But he was probably pleasant to everyone.
Don’t go there, Ruth, she admonished herself during the many times that evening she set down her knitting to get up and look out the window. It is highly doubtful he’s part of Gott’s plans for you in that matter. You might work for him a bit longer, but for romance, you’re crazy. You don’t want to be an Amish wife. A wife, ja. An Amish one, nee.
But after she’d settled the pup beside her on the quilt following their last trip outside for the evening, she closed her eyes. Please, Gott, I pray that it is Your will to keep him safe.
* * *
When she and Bess pulled into the furniture shop’s buggy shed the next day, Kip swung his head their way and nickered to Bess before returning his attention to the hay net in front of him. Ruth tossed the quilt off her lap and scrambled out of the buggy to give the gelding an appreciative rub on the neck.
“Good boy,” she crooned. “I’m so glad you got home safely last night.” She returned to an impatient Bess, removed the harness from the mare and settled her into her own hay. The gelding was the only other horse in the shed so far. Passing Malachi’s buggy on her way to the workshop door, she noted her loaned quilt folded neatly on the seat, with the dish towel, quilted cloth and brick stacked on top. Ruth smiled and left them there.