A Seat by the Hearth

by Amy Clipston

  “Gut nacht, Mark.” Ethan appeared in the doorway, looking proud. “I said that right, didn’t I?”

  “You certainly did.” Mark grinned at him.

  “Mammi said I have to take a bath. I’ll see you tomorrow when I get home from school.” Ethan waved and then disappeared into the house, the storm door clicking shut behind him.

  “I need to get going. Danki again for supper.” Mark stood and held out his hand. Not sure what else to do, she gently shook it. When his skin touched hers, she felt an electrical current zing up her arm. Had she imagined it? If not, had he felt it too?

  “Gern gschehne.” Priscilla stood as Mark started down the steps, surprised she was reluctant to let him go.

  TWENTY

  A WEEK LATER THE RUMBLE OF A TRUCK ENGINE sounded nearby, and Mark stepped out of the largest barn. The September sun warmed his arms as he walked toward the faded red, late-model Chevrolet pickup bouncing up the driveway.

  Confusion sparked as Mark quickened his steps to catch up with the driver. Mark didn’t recall Yonnie’s mentioning that a customer had made an appointment to come see a horse. In fact, Yonnie and Edna had gone to town for supplies an hour ago, and already home from school, Ethan had tagged along for the promise of ice cream. Yonnie never would have left the farm if he were expecting a customer.

  When Mark reached the truck, he tapped on the window.

  A man who looked about Mark’s age lowered the window and nodded. “Hi.” He had dark hair and eyes, and he seemed nervous as he cleared his throat.

  “May I help you?” Mark asked.

  “Is this the Allgyer family farm?”

  “Ya.” Mark pointed behind the truck. “The name is on the sign. Are you looking for a horse?”

  “No.” The man shook his head. “I’m trying to find Priscilla Allgyer. Does she live here by any chance?”

  A dark foreboding grabbed Mark by the shoulders. “She might.”

  “Well, if she does, thank goodness!” The man slapped his hands together. “I’ve been searching for months. All I knew was her last name and that her father was Amish and sold horses. I can’t believe I finally found her. Do you know how many Allgyers there are around here?” He gave a chuckle that sounded forced as he pointed at Mark. “Sure you do, since you’re obviously Amish.”

  “What do you want?” Mark barked the question as alarm burrowed into his gut.

  “I need to see her.” Trent climbed out of the truck and stood next to it.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Trent Parker.” Trent held out his hand in an offer of a handshake, but Mark remained in place, unmoving. “I was hoping to see her. Is she home?”

  Mark stiffened as his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?” He ground out the words. “You have no right to come here. You’re not welcome.”

  Trent held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m just here to apologize.”

  “Don’t bother.” Mark pointed in the direction of the road. “You need to leave, or I’m going to call the police and have you escorted off this property.”

  Trent shook his head. “I won’t leave until I see Priscilla and my son.”

  “You don’t have the right to call Ethan your son.” Mark gripped the truck’s door handle. “You need to leave now. I mean it.”

  “Trent!” Priscilla jogged over to the truck from the house. “What are you doing here?”

  Mark’s body quaked as he turned toward her. “I just told him to leave. Stay away from him.”

  “No.” She shook her head as she reached for Mark’s arm. “Just give me a minute to talk to him.”

  “Please don’t.” Mark took her arm and gently steered her away from the truck. “I saw what he did to you. I will not allow him to hurt you again.”

  “I’m fine.” She placed her hands on his biceps as she stared up into his eyes. “I will stand right here and talk to him, but I want you to leave, okay?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t bring myself to leave you alone with him.”

  “Mark.” She spoke slowly as if he didn’t understand the language. “I promise you I will be fine. He’s not going to hurt me here, especially in front of you.” She nodded toward the barn. “Just go back to work. I’ll be only a few minutes, and then I’ll make him leave. I’ll yell for you if I feel threatened, okay?” She touched his hand, and he enjoyed the feel of her soft skin against his. “I need you to trust me on this.”

  “Fine.” He gave her a curt nod and then glanced past her to where Trent had climbed out of the truck. “If he hurts you . . .”

  “Go. I promise you I will be fine.”

  With fury pumping through his veins, Mark headed toward the barn. When he reached the barn door, he turned, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched Priscilla approach Trent.

  He stood ready to jump into action if Trent even reached for her.

  “What are you doing here?” Priscilla hated the thread of worry in her voice. She couldn’t let Trent know how nervous he made her. At least she wasn’t as afraid as she thought she’d be if he ever showed up on the farm. Mark’s presence made the difference.

  “I’m here to apologize.” He pointed toward her scarred arm. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. I got help, and I stopped drinking. I want to tell you and Ethan that I’m ready to be a family. I’m better, and I will be the father and boyfriend you both deserve.”

  If only he’d said those words months ago.

  No! How could she ever trust him after the way he’d treated her? She deserved better, didn’t she?

  She shook her head. “It’s too late.”

  “No, it’s not.” He took a step toward her, and she stepped back, away from him. “I want to make it up to you. I have a steady job now, and I’m looking for a better place for us to live. I’m ready to provide for you. If you and Ethan come with me, you won’t even have to work. You can go back to school or stay home. It’s up to you.” His desperation covered her like a silky, slimy substance.

  “No.” She lifted her chin and made her voice strong and forceful. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”

  Trent looked around the farm. “Is Ethan in the house?”

  “He’s not here.”

  Trent’s dark eyes seemed to study her. “You look different. You seem more confident.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “And you’re Amish now, huh?” He grinned. “You looked better in jeans and T-shirts. That bonnet looks uncomfortable. I like your hair down.”

  “It’s a prayer covering.” She touched the ties. “You need to go. You’ve said what you came to say. Get out of here before Mark calls the police.” She glanced past him to where Mark stood watch by the barn, his expression unmoving. She’d never seen him look so serious or so angry. It sent uneasiness swirling through all the cells in her body.

  Trent turned and stared at Mark. “Is he your new boyfriend?” He’d raised his voice as Mark took a few steps toward them. Did Trent want Mark to hear?

  “He’s a family friend.” She matched her tone and volume to his, not wanting him to believe he was gaining the upper hand.

  Trent studied her for a moment, and her skin felt as if it were crawling. “Where’s Ethan?”

  “He got home from school early today, so he went to the store with my parents.”

  “When will he be back?” Trent asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I want to see him.” Trent’s expression softened as he lowered his voice. “Please. I really want to see him. I’ve missed you both so much.”

  “You should have considered that before you did this to me.” She pushed up her sleeve, revealing the puckered skin. “And before you neglected our son. You need to go now.”

  “But I want to see Ethan.”

  She shook her head. “Now is not a good time.”

  “If now isn’t a good time, then when is?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Let me think about it. I’ll call yo
u.”

  Trent’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. “I have a right to see him. He’s my son.”

  “No, you don’t, actually.” She lifted her chin again as a sudden surge of confidence swept through her. “Remember how you disappeared just before Ethan was born? You weren’t at the birth, and I didn’t know if you were ever coming back. Your name isn’t even on the birth certificate. That means you have no legal rights to him at all.” She pointed to herself. “Besides, if you were so concerned about your son, you would have treated me with respect.”

  “I’ve changed. I’ll make up for my mistakes.” Trent held up his hands. “I told you. I got help and found a decent job.”

  “Good for you.” She nearly spat the words at him.

  He pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “What if I gave you money? How much do you want?”

  “You can’t be serious!” Anger flooded her. “You want to buy your way into your son’s heart?”

  “No.” He pulled out a wad of bills. “But I owe you for child support. How much do you want?”

  “I don’t want any of your money.”

  “Sure you do.” Trent held out the cash, desperation lining his face. “How much?”

  “You need to go.” Mark sidled up to him.

  Priscilla had been so focused on Trent that she hadn’t even noticed Mark as he approached.

  “You need to go right now.” Mark opened the truck door and gestured for Trent to climb in. “Does Priscilla have your number?”

  Trent nodded as he put the money back in his wallet. “My number hasn’t changed.”

  Mark nodded. “Good. She’ll call you if she decides to allow you to see Ethan. Now go before I make you go.”

  Trent climbed into the truck and slammed the door. Then he looked between Priscilla and Mark, his gaze finally landing on Mark. “You’d better watch out for her. She’s not stable. She’ll turn on you too.” Then he started the engine and drove away.

  Once the truck was out of sight, Priscilla released the breath she’d been holding.

  Mark turned toward her, his eyes narrowed. “Freind? You told him I’m your freind?” Bitterness and frustration radiated off him in waves.

  “Mark, please.” She held up her hands. “I didn’t want him to know any of my personal life.”

  “Why?” His scowl deepened. “Do I embarrass you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “That’s not it at all.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him we’re engaged?” He gestured toward the road. “Do you still love him?”

  She paused, considering her feelings for Trent Parker. “No, but it’s complicated.”

  “You hesitated.” He wagged a finger at her. “So you do love him. You love the man who hit you, cut you, and scarred you.”

  “No, it’s not that, but we have a kind together. We’ll always be tied by Ethan. That’s why I couldn’t just send him away. You have to understand—”

  He held up his hand. “Save it.”

  As Mark stomped off toward the barn, Priscilla felt frozen between two men and two worlds.

  Mark’s arms and shoulders throbbed with pain as he hammered another new board into the barn floor with all his might. His jaw ached as he continued to clench it.

  The vision of Priscilla talking to Trent filled his mind as anger, raw and raging, drowned him. Why did she tell him Mark was only her friend? Was she hoping Trent would offer to take her and Ethan with him? If he had, would she have gone? Didn’t their friendship and her promise to marry Mark mean anything to her?

  “Mark!” Ethan scampered into the barn. “I brought you a present. I hope you like chocolate peanut butter ice cream.” He stood tall as he held out a little bag.

  The anger seemed to dissolve as Mark looked down at the little boy’s proud smile. “Danki. That’s my favorite flavor.” He set the hammer and nails on the floor.

  “I thought so. Here. Take it.” Ethan shook the bag. “It might be melting.”

  Mark took the bag and opened it. He found a cup of ice cream with a lid and a spoon. “Danki for thinking of me.”

  “Of course I thought of you.” Ethan scanned the barn. “Can I help you with the boards? You can show me how.”

  “You don’t have to.” Mark took a bite of ice cream, and it melted in his mouth.

  “I thought I saw my dad’s truck earlier.” Ethan picked up the hammer as he spoke. “We were driving toward the farm, and I saw a red truck that looked just like my dad’s. It was ahead of us, so I couldn’t see who was driving it.”

  Mark stilled for a moment and then took another bite.

  “I told Mammi and Daadi that it looked like his truck, but they didn’t say anything.” Ethan swung the hammer around.

  “Don’t do that,” Mark said, warning him. “You might hit yourself in the head or drop it on your foot. Trust me. It hurts when you do that.”

  Ethan stopped swinging the hammer. “I was thinking about my dad. I wonder if he misses me. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to him.”

  “Do you miss him?” Mark took another bite of ice cream.

  “Yeah, sometimes I do.” Ethan nodded.

  “Do you want to go back and live with him?” Mark knew he was probably overstepping his bounds, but he so wanted the boy to say no.

  Ethan shook his head. “No, I like it here with you, Mammi, and Daadi.”

  “Why don’t you want to live with him?”

  “Because he’s not nice to mei mamm. I don’t like how he . . . talks to her.” Ethan set the hammer on the floor and then looked at Mark again. “Will you be nice to her when we live with you?”

  Mark nodded, hoping with all his heart that Ethan had never seen his father physically abuse his mother. He didn’t think so. “I promise I’ll always be nice to your mamm.”

  “Good.” Ethan picked up two nails. “Show me how to put the new boards on the floor.”

  “Let me finish my appeditlich ice cream first.” Mark held up the spoon. “You want a taste?”

  “I already tasted it.” Ethan smirked.

  “Did you really?”

  “No, but I made you believe me!” Ethan cackled.

  Mark grinned and pointed the spoon at him. “That was a gut one. You’re learning.” Then he poked Ethan’s arm. He prayed Priscilla would never take Ethan away from him.

  Priscilla stood by the entrance to her father’s large barn. She fingered the skirt of her green dress and chewed her lower lip as she watched Mark kneel on the floor and hammer a new board into place.

  His face was lined with frustration and maybe sadness as he worked. The pain in his eyes had haunted her as she and her mother planted flowers in the remaining hour or so before they had to start making their evening meal. She’d hoped he would come out of the barn and talk to her, but she hadn’t seen him. The distance between them was tearing her apart, and she’d felt worse and worse as she’d made a meat loaf.

  “Mark.” Her words were muffled by the loud banging of the hammer echoing through the empty barn. “Mark!”

  He stopped working, sat back on his heels, and looked up at her. His handsome face hardened with a frown as he lifted his straw hat and wiped his hand over his brow.

  “Are you hungry?” She took a step into the barn. “It’s almost suppertime.”

  “No, Ethan brought me ice cream a little while ago.” He turned back to the floor and picked up more nails.

  “Wait. I want to talk to you.”

  His shoulders hunched as he stared down at the floor.

  “Please look at me.” She walked over to him.

  He kept his eyes focused on the floor. “What do you want?”

  “I want to apologize and explain myself.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. It’s obvious you still love Trent, despite all he did to you.” He looked up at her, and the disappointment in his eyes sent guilt spiraling through her.

  “That’s not true.” Her voice sounded strained to her own ears. �
�When I met Trent, I was lonely, and I was desperate for someone to care about me. I was never gut enough in mei daed’s eyes, and Trent was the first man who paid attention to me. When we were in youth group, the buwe always looked at Laura and Savilla, but none of them gave me a second look. Maybe because I’ve always been so short or maybe because I wasn’t as outgoing and schee as your schweschder and Savilla. It was as though I was invisible next to them.”

  Mark’s eyebrows drew together as he scowled. “That wasn’t true.”

  “No, it was true. I never felt special, and aside from mei mammi and mei mamm, I’d never felt anyone love me.”

  “I’m sure your dat loves you, even though he doesn’t always treat you well.”

  She frowned. You have no idea.

  “He does, Priscilla. He’s your daed.” Mark stood and brushed the dust off his dark trousers. “I know that with the bishop’s help, he’s forcing you to marry me, but you have to give him time. He’s—”

  She waved off his comment. “Please, let me finish. Trent showed up at a time when I was at my lowest and feeling hopeless. He knew what to say to convince me that he cared about me, and I quickly fell for it.”

  Mark’s expression darkened as his eyes locked with hers.

  “I felt affection for him, but looking back, I’m not sure it was ever true love. He said he would take care of me, and I was too weak to take care of myself. And then I had Ethan. No matter what, I’ll always be connected to Trent because of Ethan.”

  “Do you want to go back to Trent?” Mark asked, his voice sounding thin and reedy.

  Priscilla was almost certain she heard a hint of worry in Mark’s voice. Was he jealous of Trent? No, that couldn’t be possible. Why would Mark be jealous of Trent when he didn’t love her?

  “No.” She shook her head. “I would never go back to Trent. I don’t love him, and I could never trust him after what he did to me.” She opened her mouth and then closed it.

  “What are you not telling me?”

  “I don’t know what to do. I don’t trust him around Ethan, but he is Ethan’s father.”