by Amy Lillard
But finagling an “accident” could be dangerous, and Matthew didn’t seem like a risk taker to her. He looked strong and steady. And if he had wanted to spend more alone time with her, all he had to do was ask Eunice to keep his children longer. Her aunt had taken to Matthew as well. But then, Eunice loved everyone.
Only one way to find out. Gracie should ask him right away if he was playing tricks on her. She opened her mouth, but this came out, “You were telling me about Stephen.”
He drew back a bit and looked at her. He seemed surprised. That she had remembered their conversation? Or maybe that she wanted to know more about his children? Maybe he just thought they wouldn’t talk about anything. Lord, help her! She couldn’t go through a marriage not speaking to her husband.
Matthew turned his attention back to the road ahead and pressed his lips together as if he was thinking. “He’s the oldest,” he finally said.
“You already told me that. How old is he?”
“Seven going on fifty.”
Gracie chuckled. “I saw that the first time I came over.” And that was the time she had asked him to marry her and embarrassed herself like she never had before—even that time she fell backward out of the pony cart while Benuel King and his buddies were watching. She had been trying to look interesting, with her chin lifted and her gaze to the side and the reins loose in her hands. She hadn’t reacted quick enough when the pony decided to kick it up a bit without any encouragement from her and off the back she went.
“Jah,” he said, his voice sort of soft as if he were remembering that time with fondness. But that couldn’t be right. She had made a fool of herself. And the casserole hadn’t been that good. She might not have stayed for supper, but she had made the dish too many times to count. It was filling and warm, but nothing worth getting dreamy-eyed over.
“Has he always been so serious?” she asked, hoping to bring them back to the real conversation.
“Jah,” he said with a small laugh. “Then there’s Henry. He’s five.”
“Oh, I know Henry. But tell me, whose raising are you paying for?”
“What?” He tilted his head to one side as if trying to decipher her question.
“Eunice always says that when a couple has a child who’s something of a handful, the parents are paying for their own raising. So who was the handful? You or Be—their mother?” Why she didn’t want to say his late wife’s name was beyond her, but she felt that if she said it out loud, somehow Beth would be there. And this conversation was between the two of them, her and Matthew. Strangely enough, she wanted to keep it that way.
“Me,” he said with a smile. “I was always getting into trouble. Well, my older brother Jason was always putting me up to something, and then I would get into trouble.”
“You have a brother?” She had never heard anyone talk about his family other than the one that lived in Pontotoc. “Does he live in Ohio?”
“Jah.”
“Is it just the two of you?”
“No,” he said with a wry grin. “We have six sisters. Three older and three younger.”
Gracie laughed. “That’s quite a brood.”
“So you see why Jason and I had to stick together.”
“I suppose,” she jokingly replied. “But I really think it’s just a ploy to justify the orneriness of boys.”
“Whatever.” But his grin kept the word from stinging.
“Are any of them coming down for the wedding?” The very thought made her even more nervous, if that was possible.
“Jason was thinking about it, but he’s got the farm. He can’t get away this time of year.” The problems with having a wedding out of season. “The sisters all have little ones. It’s too hard to travel with them. For no—” He broke off, but she knew what he was going to say. For no reason. His expression went from thoughtful to sheepish.
“I know what you mean,” she said, completely letting him off the hook. He meant it was his second marriage, and they weren’t treated as special as first marriages. It was her first marriage, but that didn’t affect his family at all. At least that’s what she thought he meant and if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to know the real reason.
“Jason said he might come in the fall, after harvest. What about you? You don’t talk about your family.”
“I do too. All the time.”
“I’m not talking about Eunice. I mean your close family. Mamm, dat, siblings.”
Her family wasn’t something she really wanted to discuss, but she knew that she would have to share this at some point. “My brothers were racing buggies one night.”
Matthew made a sharp noise. She didn’t have to say anything else; he understood.
“And my parents both died in their sleep.” She hated to bring up the reason why, but she knew he would ask. “Carbon monoxide poisoning.”
He shook his head sadly. “That’s quite a blow. Both of them at once.”
“Jah. But then I went to stay with Eunice and Abner. And other family members who needed help. I stayed with my cousin when she had a baby and her mother couldn’t come. I stayed with my uncle’s family when he fell and broke his leg. So it’s been something of an adventure.” She didn’t tell him a fraction of all the family members who had called for her help. And she had gone.
She had never really thought about it before, but she had gone searching for more family. Everyone thought she was just being kind and helpful, but really she was looking for the one thing she didn’t have: family.
“What about the twins?” She had to get them back on the conversation that wasn’t about her. She didn’t want to think any more about her unwitting quest to find where she belonged.
He smiled. “They are something else. Benjamin is the gentlest and sweetest child a person could ever ask for.”
“And Thomas is a bit on the ornery side, like Henry.”
“I think they have meetings and training sessions.”
Gracie laughed. “Surely not.”
“Just wait. You’ll see, once you move in.”
The air around them suddenly turned thick. She didn’t want to think about that, and yet she wanted to plan every detail so she knew what to expect. How was she supposed to balance that?
She had no answer, though she searched for one. She needed to say something, but any thoughts were lost as something nudged her in the back. She skipped forward, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing.
She shook her head and was thankful that the moment with Matthew had passed, and she must have imagined that nudge.
“Hannah and Leah are twins. Fraternal, like your boys. Then Jim and Anna’s twins are so identical I don’t think they can even tell each other apart.” She jumped again as the same prod came at her back.
“Did you push me?” she asked.
“Why would I push you?”
Good point. She turned back around. “I think the boys are great.”
He smiled. “They’re good boys, but you can’t let them think they have any power in that house. Or you will never get control back from Henry. He’s something of a—”
“Leader?” she supplied.
“I was going to say instigator.”
Same thing.
Henry Byler, the Amish kid who would take over the world.
“And the baby?”
Again the atmosphere changed. The temperature seemed to drop, the air got thick, and Matthew seemed to almost dull at the question.
“She’s not happy with the current situation.” He said the words so slowly, each one succinct. It was almost as if he had to spell them out in his head before he could speak them.
“Is she colicky?”
“No, just unhappy.”
She missed her mother. Gracie knew that pain. Perhaps she could ease the loss for Baby Grace. She knew exactly how it felt. Maybe kindred spirits would come together. She liked that idea. She and Baby Grace helping each other get through this life. This wonderful, sometimes-so-hard-she-didn’t-think-she-could-go
-on life.
“Listen,” he started, his voice a little choked, as if he didn’t want to say the words gathering in his thoughts.
“What is that?” Terrible of her to interrupt, she knew, but somehow she didn’t want to hear what he was about to say.
“What?” he asked. She breathed a small sigh of relief that he had allowed her to change the subject. She had a reprieve.
“Up there. Is it a cat?”
“I don’t see anything,” he said.
Great. Now it looked as if she were making things up.
“Right there.”
“Still don’t see it.”
“On the side of the road there. That black thing.”
He leaned in and squinted, looking hard in the direction where she pointed. “Maybe a sweater.”
“It’s coming toward us. Sweaters don’t walk.”
He straightened. “A dog?”
Sure enough, about ten paces later the little black dog came bounding up, pink tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.
“Well, aren’t you a cute little thing.”
She reached down to pet it and the dog flopped onto one side and rolled over so Gracie could pet her belly. “Sweet dog,” she crooned, squatting next to her.
From a distance the animal had looked fuzzy, but up close that frizz became silky. A long-haired, solid black dog that surely belonged to an Englischer. Most of the Amish in these parts kept hunting dogs but not house critters. Everything had a job, including pets.
There was no collar on the pooch and no tag. But Gracie knew that this wasn’t the kind of dog that people let roam about. She had to have an owner somewhere, and if they left her out here she would surely get hit by a car.
“Give me your suspenders,” she said, standing up and holding out one hand. The dog immediately popped up beside her, short little tail wagging.
“My suspenders? Why?”
“So I can make a leash from them.”
“No,” he said. “My pants will fall down.”
“Not if you hold your pants up.”
“I have the horse.” As if asserting his position, Cotton snorted and stomped one foot.
The dog danced around his legs and barked at the beast.
To Cotton’s credit, he didn’t seem to mind. A miracle, she supposed, considering how skittish he was when they first unhitched him to walk for help.
“And you have two hands. Pants in one and reins in the other.”
He frowned even more than usual. “No,” he said emphatically. “The dog follows or he doesn’t come.” He started walking again as if to solidify his decision.
“She,” Gracie corrected, starting after him.
Matthew kept going but bent at the waist to check the puppy’s underbelly. “She,” he agreed.
Gracie felt the heat rising into her cheeks and could only hope that her face had turned a pretty shade of pink instead of the fiery red it felt like.
This would be the perfect time to bring up their wedding night. If she was still worried about it. And she wasn’t. They should be able to talk about such matters if they needed to. They were about to get married. It was only natural. But she didn’t bring it up because she wasn’t worried about it. Not at all.
Instead she allowed the conversation to take its natural turn toward the dog now trotting happily alongside them. Gracie was glad the pup followed them. She couldn’t convince Matthew to give up his suspenders and she was afraid to leave the little dog behind.
“She belongs to someone,” Gracie said for the fifth or sixth time. She had lost count. “She has to.” She no sooner finished the words than she felt that familiar nudge behind her. Someone had pushed her again. Not hard enough to make her stumble or fall, but just enough to get her attention. She had thought Matthew was doing it. But with his longer stride he was slightly in front of her and couldn’t have pushed her from behind.
She turned around just as Cotton tossed his head, bumping her in the side. She gasped and laughed, rubbing his velvet nose. “You just want attention, jah?”
The horse blew out a breath as Gracie turned completely around and walked backward so she could pet the horse.
“Really?” Matthew asked. That ever-present frown marred his forehead and had even fallen to his mouth. “It’s going to take us twice as long if you walk backward the entire way.”
“Horses need love too.” Everything needed love. Even if some weren’t destined to get it.
“He likes you, I guess.”
Gracie smiled. “I like him too.” She gave the horse one last brush of her hand, then turned around. Walking backward was not only slow, it was hard too.
She was no sooner facing front than Cotton nudged her from the back. This time harder than the last.
“Bad horse,” she scolded, then tried not to laugh at herself when she realized she sounded like a kindergartner. “I’ll give you a peppermint when we get home, but you have to promise to behave until then.”
“You’re talking to that animal like he can understand every word.”
“What if he can? I read about these dolphins one time that could do all sorts of tricks, like jump through hoops and watch themselves on television.”
“That’s something hard to do?”
“You know what I mean. They can follow the story.”
“And where did you read all this?”
She shrugged. He had his secrets and she had hers. “I really do believe that the dog belongs to someone.” Nice change of subject.
“Then we stop at the next house and leave her there. Surely she belongs somewhere close.”
“Not necessarily,” Gracie countered. “Someone could have dumped her.” But she didn’t think that was the case. The pup was cared for and loved attention. She had somehow gotten lost and needed help finding her way back to her family.
Just like me.
Gracie locked that thought away. She was about to have her family and she would search no more.
“There.” Matthew pointed ahead toward a tin-colored mailbox decorated with dents and rust spots. The owner’s name wasn’t painted on it, just the house number for emergency vehicles.
As silly as it was, the closer they got to the mailbox the sadder Gracie became. The pooch trotted along as if she had been following them her entire life. Head held high, she chased off the random butterfly but otherwise happily stayed right by her side.
What if this wasn’t the right house? What if the owner lied and said the dog was his when she really wasn’t? What if he was a mean man who would hurt the dog? How could she live with herself then?
Hush up, she told that worrisome little voice in her head. It was always telling her the worst of everything, and somedays it took all she had to control it. She supposed it was from having so much loss in her life, then being shuffled around, wanted only when she was needed. Except Eunice. She had always treated Gracie like one of her own.
“Are you coming?” He had already turned and started up the small hill that led to the house. The drive was made of light-colored stones, not quite like the ones that made up the road. A strip of grass grew up the middle.
“Jah,” she said and started after him.
The sound of barking dogs met her ears as she walked behind Matthew and Cotton. Not the best place to be, she decided. Even though back there she didn’t have to worry about him nudging her or knocking her down. With each bump being a little harder, it was likely he would push her to the ground. But behind a horse was not where she wanted to spend much time at all. She sped up to swerve around him. She’d take her chances with the nudges.
The pup, thinking it was a game, ran on ahead to greet the canines who lived on the property. The three dogs that came out from under the house didn’t seem to know the little black beast. They barked and sniffed at each other, all four of them wagging their tails so hard their rears were swinging back and forth as well.
“Hidey,” the man on the porch called. He had stood when he caught sight of th
em and now patiently waited for them to get close enough to talk.
“Hi,” Matthew returned. She could barely hear his voice over the barking.
“Hush up,” the man said, clapping his hands at his dogs. They immediately fell silent, even the black dog. But they all continued to wag their tails and visit with each other. Just more quietly now.
“Our buggy broke down about a mile back that direction.” Matthew gestured with one arm to show him. “Then we found this guy—er, girl, and thought maybe she belonged to you.”
He studied the dog as if he had never seen anything like her in his entire life. “Nope. Not my dog.”
His dogs had lost interest in Pepper and had started after Cotton. The horse snorted and stomped his foot, pawing at the ground in warning. The dogs understood and went back to see if Pepper smelled any different than she had a couple of minutes ago.
Pepper. Gracie wasn’t sure where the name came from. One minute it was simply there and fit so perfectly, she couldn’t stop herself from calling the little dog by that name. Pepper was much better than little black dog.
“You need some help into town?” the man asked.
“I don’t want to put you out,” Matthew said.
The man spit off the side of the porch, then grinned, his smile colored yellow from tobacco. “I’m retired,” he said. “I ain’t got nothing else to do with my day.”
“Much obliged.” Matthew nodded his thanks.
“Eugene Dover,” the man said, holding out a hand to shake.
Matthew shook it as he introduced himself.
Gracie watched their interaction, then plopped down onto the ground so she could easily pet Pepper while she waited for Matthew and Eugene Dover to conduct their business.
“Go ahead and put your horse in the pasture. It’ll be there when you come back to get your buggy.” He stopped, narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t planning on leaving it here for a week or two, are ya?”
Matthew shook his head. “I’ll be back for him sometime this afternoon.”
“What about your dog?” Eugene asked.
“It’s not our dog,” he replied.