Katie beamed. “Great. But if you’re going to capture Jonah’s attention, you might want to put on another dress first. Otherwise he’ll be focused on that blotch on your shoulder instead of your winning smile.”
Tessa peered sideways at her shoulder, which was damp with Mercy’s drool. Her arms suddenly ached with loneliness. She could have started weeping again but her eyes were already puffy enough, so instead she changed her dress and then joined the others in celebration.
* * *
Turner was getting nervous. It was six thirty. He couldn’t wait any longer to hitch his horse to the buggy; maybe by the time he was finished, Tessa would be walking up the lane. He bundled Mercy and carried her to the stable in the basket, which he secured in the back of the buggy and then hitched the horse. Still no Tessa. He waited a few more minutes, figuring he could guide the horse into a swift trot if necessary. He had really hoped Tessa would be able to accompany him, but when he feared he could wait no longer, he started down the lane.
As he approached the daadi haus, Turner noticed lamps shining from several windows. Then he spotted Katie and Mason’s buggy secured to the hitching post he and his brothers built primarily for Katie and Tessa’s use back when they still had a horse. I wonder why Katie hasn’t left, Turner mused. Of all evenings, it had to be tonight that she chose to stay late.
He sighed as Mercy fussed behind him. He assumed she was irritable because her gums hurt, but without Tessa’s input, he couldn’t be certain. He hoped once they were on the main road, the motion of the buggy would calm her. He was nearing the end of the lane when he spied a buggy hitched to the fence straight ahead, blocking his way. He brought his horse to an abrupt stop. Who would have been so rude as to block the lane and so reckless as to tie a horse to a flimsy fence railing instead of to the hitching post?
Then it dawned on him: whoever was in his way was a guest at Tessa’s house. It was probably one of the Fishers’ relatives or their friends from out of state joining them for supper, because anyone local would have known the lane was shared by both Turner and Tessa; it wasn’t meant for Tessa’s use alone. Now what was he going to do? Time was of the essence. He couldn’t leave Mercy alone in the dark buggy at the end of the lane, nor could he risk Tessa’s guests seeing her. Since fencing lined both sides of the narrow lane, there wasn’t enough room at this particular juncture to turn the buggy around. So he directed his horse to walk backward toward the daadi haus.
It was a slow process, but when he arrived at a spot close enough for him to keep an eye on the buggy, he jumped out of the carriage and bound up the porch steps. He repeatedly rapped the door. A moment later, Tessa appeared.
“Turner, you’re still here! What’s wrong?” she asked in a surprised voice. “Is Mercy—”
“Hush!” He put his fingers to his lips. What was she thinking? Her guests could have heard her.
“Who is it, Tessa?” Katie asked over Tessa’s shoulder. “Oh, gut, it’s Turner. I haven’t seen you for a long time. Please, kumme join our party. We were just about to serve cake. Faith Schwartz baked it, so you know it will be appenditlich.”
“Neh, I can’t,” he gruffly declined. “There’s somewhere I need to be and one of your guests is blocking the lane.”
“Ach, that must be Jonah’s buggy. I’ll get him.”
When Katie left the room, Tessa hurriedly whispered, “I’m so sorry I can’t go with you. You see, my sis—”
Turner cut her off. “No need to explain, but tell Jonah—” Turner practically spat out Jonah’s name “—to hurry it up. I’ll be waiting outside.” Over his shoulder he added, “And in the future, I don’t ever want to find a horse hitched to the fence again.”
Turner wasn’t angry simply because the buggy was blocking his way; he was also miffed because the fence wasn’t at the correct height to tether a horse. The animal could become agitated and try to rear, snapping the wooden rail and injuring itself.
Furthermore, he was piqued Tessa was hosting a party when she’d promised to accompany him to the depot. He knew she wouldn’t have deliberately misled him about her plans, so he suspected she’d made the party arrangements long ago and had since forgotten about them. Even so, she knew how important it was for him to get to the depot in time. She should have made doubly sure there were no obstacles to slow him down. Better yet, she shouldn’t have invited a guest who was so irresponsible and inconsiderate he’d tie his horse to a fence railing unsuited for hitching purposes.
A very tall young man jounced past his buggy. Jonah, no doubt. Turner couldn’t help but speculate about whether he was also at Tessa’s the night the group played Cut The Pie. It seemed to take him forever to reposition his horse and buggy, but once the lane was finally clear, Turner wasted no time hurrying past him and onto the main road.
Turner’s horse accelerated into a swift gallop and within minutes, Mercy’s whining subsided. He knew without looking at her she’d fallen asleep. Turner’s jaw ached but he pleaded aloud with the Lord to deliver him to the depot on time or else to delay the bus’s departure.
When they arrived, he rapidly but securely hitched his horse and lifted Mercy from her basket. She stirred but didn’t wake. He clutched her to his chest with both arms to shield her from the cold and sprinted to the bus depot.
Panting, he asked the ticket booth attendant, “Has the seven-thirty-eight bus to Philadelphia left yet?”
“Yes, sir. It departed right on time. You missed it by two minutes.”
Groaning, Turner shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt as if the room was tilting. He couldn’t fall over, not with Mercy in his arms. Steadying himself against the ledge of the ticket counter, he asked, “Did you notice if a teenage girl boarded it? She would have had long dark hair and she was probably traveling alone. She’s slim and about this tall.” Turner indicated the height of his shoulder.
“I see so many passengers after a while they start to look alike,” the attendant said. “But, yes, there might have been someone matching that description who boarded the bus. I only remember her because she counted out her change down to her last dime in order to purchase the ticket. She must have been awfully desperate to get away from here.”
Turner staggered backward as if he’d been shoved. His voice reverberated in the empty room as he repeatedly moaned, “Neh, neh, neh!”
Jolted awake, Mercy raised her voice, too, so Turner returned with her to the buggy, where he tucked her into the basket as she continued to holler. He wanted to holler, too. His disappointment this time was threefold: he was disappointed in his sister, disappointed in Tessa and, dare he think it, disappointed in God. It was time to give up searching and praying he’d find Jacqueline, and it was definitely time to stop depending on Tessa or imagining any kind of romantic future with her. I’m all done, he thought and headed for home.
Chapter Ten
Tessa waved to her guests from the porch, calling “Denki for the wunderbaar party!” Her cheerfulness belied how bad she felt about Jonah blocking Turner’s path.
But how could he have known she shared a lane with Turner? The two times Jonah visited the property it had been too dark for him to see that the lane continued past the daadi haus and up the hill. According to her sister, Jonah had traveled alone, and she and Mason transported Anna, Fletcher, Faith and Hunter to the party. Katie had instructed Jonah not to bring his buggy to the hitching post at the daadi haus until after they sang, because if Tessa spotted it their surprise would be ruined. Jonah had intended to tie his horse to the fence for only a minute, but in all of the excitement, he’d forgotten to return to it and move his buggy.
It was a perfectly understandable mistake, but Tessa didn’t blame Turner for being brusque. He was probably already on tenterhooks when Tessa hadn’t shown up in time to accompany him to Highland Springs. But recalling that Turner said he’d have plenty of time even if he encountered a delay,
she assumed he’d reached the depot before the bus departed. The question now was whether he’d seen Jacqueline or not. Was his sister up the hill right now, visiting with him? If she was, Tessa didn’t want to interrupt them, but if Turner hadn’t found her, Tessa wanted to offer consolation.
I know—I’ll bring Mercy’s tote bag up to the house. Tessa figured if Jacqueline was there, she’d give Turner the bag and leave them to their privacy. Otherwise, she’d stay to explain about the party and the fiasco with Jonah’s buggy, and help Turner devise a new course of action. She pulled the tote from beneath Katie’s bed, put on her cloak and hurried up the hill.
Before she had a chance to knock on the door, she heard Turner’s voice from the other end of the porch. “Don’t knock. You’ll wake Mercy.”
“You startled me,” she said, making her way to him in the dark as a cloud passed across the moon. “Is... Is Jacqueline home?”
“Neh,” he replied tersely.
“Ach, I’m sorry to hear that, Turner. And I’m sorry I couldn’t accompany you. I was—”
“You were having a wunderbaar party, I know. I heard.” In the moonlight, Turner’s profile looked as if it was chiseled from stone; his jaw was hardened in an uncompromising line.
Despite Turner’s accusatory tone, Tessa responded softly, “Jah, my sister and friends threw a surprise birthday party for me. I felt terrible I couldn’t accompany you, but asking them to leave early would have been rude.”
“Not half as rude as it was for them to block my way.”
Tessa’s eyes smarted but she understood how shattered he must have felt because Jacqueline wasn’t at the depot a second time. She hesitantly explained, “Jonah didn’t know we share the same lane. He moved the buggy as quickly as he could.”
“It wasn’t quick enough.” Turner’s voice was flinty with resentment when he said, “The bus departed two minutes before I arrived. Two minutes, Tessa. And according to the station attendant, Jacqueline was on it.”
“Oh, neh. Neh!” A spasm gripped Tessa’s stomach and she felt woozy. If she was this devastated, she could only imagine how Turner felt. She took a deep breath and said, “That’s baremlich, but at least we know she went to Philadelphia. Skylar and Charlotte said they had contacts throughout—”
“Enough!” Turner yelled, facing her. “Enough is enough. I’m done looking for her, but even if I weren’t, I don’t want Skylar and Charlotte’s help.”
“Okay. We don’t have to involve them. We’ll find her ourselves. I still have a week here to keep helping you.” Tessa touched Turner’s shoulder but he jerked his arm away.
“Helping me?” he ridiculed. “If it weren’t for your party, your guests and your insatiable need to have schpass, Jacqueline would be here right now! What kind of help is that?”
Now it was Tessa’s turn to flinch. “What are you saying? You can’t possibly be blaming me for your late arrival at the depot! You said you’d allow yourself plenty of time to get there, even if there was some kind of delay. Besides, I had no idea about the party and no idea about the buggy.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t make you any less responsible. A person is known by the company she keeps, and it’s not the first time you’ve associated with someone who behaves in a harebrained, juvenile or otherwise feckless manner!” Turner pivoted to walk away, adding, “It’s no surprise your eldre want you to kumme home where they can monitor your behavior.”
Tessa darted ahead of him and planted herself in front of the door, glaring. Her words were like knives on her tongue when she snarled, “Do you want to know what’s no surprise, Turner? What’s no surprise is that your sister ran away and won’t kumme home. Who would ever want to live with such a judgmental, unappreciative, boring old man?”
Then she pushed past him and stormed down the hill, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled. She marched straight to her bedroom, picked up her pillow, pushed her face against it and screamed until the back of her throat burned. She had dedicated the last three weeks to protecting Turner’s secret and caring for Mercy, day or night, whenever he needed. She had risked her job so Turner could look for Jacqueline. And she had lost the privilege of living alone as a result of putting Turner’s and Mercy’s needs ahead of her own. How could Turner have the nerve to imply she’d rather have fun than help him find Jacqueline? How could he imply she was immature or undependable? Tessa covered her face with the pillow and screamed again.
Then she pulled her suitcase from the closet and flung her dresses, capes and aprons atop the bed. She yanked her good church prayer kapp from the peg on the wall and emptied her drawers of their stockings and hair pins. She wished she didn’t have to wait until next Saturday to leave. She had half a mind to call her parents from the shanty and ask them to pick her up on Monday.
Turner won’t last three days without me to help him care for Mercy, she gloated. But at the thought of leaving Mercy abruptly, just as Jacqueline had done, Tessa’s emotions turned from outrage to anguish. She sat on the edge of the bed and a torrent of tears washed down her cheeks. She sobbed so hard she could barely breathe and she knew she’d make herself sick if she didn’t stop.
By the time she washed her face and donned her nightclothes, Tessa was too drained to hang up the clothes and put away the items she’d flung on her bed, so she shuffled into Katie’s old room. As she lay her head down, she felt a soft lump beneath her neck. She was about to turn on the lamp to see what it was when she realized she was holding the cloth Amish puzzle ball she’d made for Mercy. “My little haws, what are you going to do without me?” she murmured. “And what am I going to do without you?” Then she cried herself to sleep.
* * *
Turner checked on Mercy and then reclined on his bed with an extra pillow folded beneath his neck to ease the pain. It wasn’t helping much but he wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. After missing the bus’s departure by two minutes, Turner didn’t think he could possibly experience any more dejection that evening, but Tessa’s words had wounded the rawest, most vulnerable part of him. They wouldn’t have hurt so much if they hadn’t been true: he’d always known if only he had been a better father figure or a stronger role model of their Amish lifestyle and Christian faith, Jacqueline would have made different choices.
As insufferable as that reality was, Turner had to face the fact he couldn’t do anything about the past. But he could try his best to make sure he didn’t fail Mercy the way he’d failed Jacqueline, and he resolved to tell his brothers and their wives about the baby. Since Patrick was still recovering and business was slow, Turner had told Mark not to come to the shop on Saturday, which meant Turner would have to wait to talk to his brothers until he could pay them a visit after church on Sunday. Together as a family, with counsel from the deacons, they’d decide what was best for Mercy. Although Turner still felt conflicted about betraying Jacqueline’s confidence, in a way it would be a relief he didn’t have to hide Mercy from his brothers or the community any longer. Now maybe he’d have someone other than Tessa to count on for help.
The next afternoon while Mercy napped, Turner opened the ledger he’d brought home on Friday so he could continue trying to reconcile their accounts at home. When he finished, he took a brief snooze until Mercy’s jubilant babbling woke him. To Turner’s surprise, when he entered her room, she was lying on her stomach. Wait until I tell Tessa Mercy rolled over. The thought instantly flitted through his mind before he remembered what happened the night before.
When he picked Mercy up, he noticed her clothes were damp. “Let’s change your windle and then you can show me your new trick,” he said as he searched her dresser for a clean diaper. When he couldn’t find one, he brought the baby downstairs to check the tote Tessa left on his porch the previous evening, but he didn’t find one there, either.
Turner glanced at the clock: it was a little past four. Tessa wouldn’t be home from Schrock’s unt
il after five and Mercy’s clothes were soaked through. Even if he could wait until Tessa returned, he didn’t want to speak to her if he could avoid it. He wrapped the baby snugly and lifted the spare key to the daadi haus from the hook near the door. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t think of entering the house without Tessa’s permission, but he figured under the circumstances it was permissible. Tessa wouldn’t even have to know he’d been there.
* * *
Tessa trudged home from Schrock’s, completely spent. On the way to work that morning she’d planned what she’d say to Joseph if he was upset about being short staffed the previous Tuesday, as well as how she was going to tell him she was resigning, in the event he didn’t fire her first. But when she arrived at the shop it was Amity, not her husband, who greeted Tessa in the back room. She said Joseph and the children had come down with the stomach bug, as had Melinda and Jesse, and she asked if Tessa could possibly manage the store on her own.
“The shop only needs to stay open until the three-o’clock-tour-bus customers leave. You know how important their sales are to our success,” Amity had explained.
“Of course,” Tessa had agreed. She owed Joseph that much. Besides, waiting on customers would keep her mind off her own queasy stomach, a nausea that wasn’t caused by the flu.
“Denki. Joseph said he knew he could count on you.” Amity had confided, “He wasn’t pleased when Melinda asked you to take her shift on such short notice, and he was even less pleased when she went to Shady Valley even though you couldn’t cover for her.”
While Tessa was relieved to discover Joseph knew it wasn’t her fault he was left on his own in the shop on Tuesday, she’d been abashed at Amity’s praise. Joseph’s gratitude was going to make it that much harder for her to tell him she was leaving Willow Creek. She’d agonized over it most of the day, and by the time the final customers left she had a headache as well as a stomachache.
Minding the Amish Baby Page 16