by Jerry Eicher
Marcus looked closer. Mary was driving! He was sure now. The outline of the figure under the coat was clearly Mary’s, even if he couldn’t see her face.
“Looks like the girl’s making herself right at home?” a man’s voice teased from across the fallen log.
“Looks like it.” Marcus tried to keep the tension out of his voice. Mary thought she could do anything, and so far she usually could, but there were dangers hidden in the woods she knew nothing about.
“Think she can handle the team?” the man asked, pushing back his hat for a better look.
“I’m sure Mary can.” Marcus tried to sound confident and reached for his saw. He could pretend he wasn’t worried. He was about to pull the starter rope when the man’s words stopped him.
“Looks like they got stuck.”
Marcus looked up at once. One wheel of the wagon was indeed sunk deep into the ground, and his team of horses was straining at the traces.
“Better go help,” the man said, but Marcus had already set down his saw and taken off running across the fallen limbs, dodging sideways, sliding and half falling to the wet ground.
“Pull back on the reins,” he hollered when he regained his footing. “Hold back the horses.” The instructions were swallowed up in the vastness of the woods and the roar of the chainsaws.
Would Mary have the sense to contain the team? The Belgians’ massive strength could easily tear the traces, or break the single tree. He imagined the team of Belgians galloping through the woods without the wagon, with Mary hanging on to the reins in desperation. He would blame himself forever for the accident. He should have stayed with his wagon. Instead he had headed into the woods to keep his distance from Mary. This was what happened when a person shirked his duty, whatever the reason.
“I didn’t see the hole!” the girl beside Mary was wailing. “We should never have done this.”
Mary hung on to the reins as the Belgians lunged forward again, desperate to proceed after the unexpected stop.
“Let them go,” the girl advised. “We can’t stay stuck. Not with Marcus’s wagon.”
“They’ll tear the traces,” Mary muttered.
“Marcus is coming,” the girl moaned. “I’ll never live down this shame. We have to get out of this hole.”
“The horses can’t!” Mary shouted this time.
She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. For one, the wagon bed went clear to the ground on the right side, and the weight of the wood load had shifted that way. A single tree took only so much pressure before it snapped. Permanent damage would happen then, the kind of damage she didn’t want to contemplate. She would never let go of the reins if that happened. Getting the wagon stuck wasn’t totally her fault, but having Marcus’s team tangle themselves around a fallen branch or, worse, a standing tree would be on her hands.
“Let them pull,” the girl begged. “We can get out of this before Marcus arrives.”
Mary sawed back on the reins instead. “Easy, boys. Easy, boys,” she said, attempting to soothe the Belgians.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw several men run towards them and head straight for the horses’ heads. She held on until they grasped the bridles and pushed the heaving Belgians backward.
“Are you okay?” one of them called to the girls.
“I think so,” Mary called back, trying to catch her breath.
“We’re so sorry about this,” the girl whimpered beside her.
“Could have happened to anyone,” someone told her.
More men arrived and appraised the situation. “We have to prop up the wheel before we try to drive forward,” one of them said.
Another man had hopped up on the wagon and held out his hand. “Shall I take the reins?”
“Certainly.” Mary handed them over.
“You did real well in holding back the horses when that wheel went down,” the man said. “Could have torn loose from the wagon otherwise.”
Mary jumped to the ground with her heart pounding. After the tension, tears stung her eyes at the man’s praise. The girl who had ridden with her fled. Mary dug out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. When she could see, Marcus was standing in front of her.
Mary’s mouth worked silently, but no words came out.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Marcus heard himself say repeatedly. Around him men rushed to aid the stricken wagon. Two of them held the bridles of his Belgians, while others inserted fallen timbers under the main beam.
He should join the rescue effort, but he couldn’t move. Mary was crying, and the sight tied his heart in knots.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said. “I should have been here to drive my team. It’s okay, really.”
She stared up at him silently.
“You did well. You really did,” he added. “Not every girl would have known to contain the team.”
Mary really began crying.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
“No,” she sobbed.
“Then why are you crying? You did goot.”
“That’s why I’m crying.”
Mary was making no sense at all.
She didn’t say anything more, wiping her eyes and watching the bustle as the men raised one end of the wagon into the air. They filled the hole with pieces of wood, and slowly the wheel was lowered to the ground.
“Let the horses go,” the man at the reins was instructed.
The wagon lurched forward and the rear wheel bounced over the filled hole without hanging up. A cheer went up from the men.
“I should go help unload,” Mary said, breaking into Marcus’s daze.
She was moving away, and he reached for her hand without thinking and brushed her fingers. “I’ll see you later.”
Mary nodded, before she rushed away. He stared after her. What had he just done? Mary hadn’t appeared offended, but never had he taken such liberties with a girl. The instinct to comfort her had overpowered him.
Marcus continued to watch her retreating figure until Mary reached the wagon parked behind the barn. She began to unload the wood, and didn’t look back. He forced himself to turn away and return to his saw sitting on the ground where he had left it beside the fallen log.
CHAPTER 16
AT LUNCHTIME, MARY STOOD IN LINE AT THE SERVING TABLE SET UP in the schoolhouse basement. An array of casseroles, salads, bread, butter, and fresh jam were spread out before her. Fresh-squeezed lemonade sat in a bucket at the end with pies lined up on an adjacent table for dessert. Through the window Mary could see the immense pile of wood behind the barn, which the community’s efforts had produced that morning. Saws were set in neat lines nearby, with discarded coats thrown over the wood pile. Soft, cheerful conversations rose and fell around her.
Mary caught sight of Marcus seated on the far side of the room. He had been through the other side of the table moments earlier. She had lingered, not wanting to abide the awkward moments when they would fill their plates across from each other at the serving table. Marcus obviously regretted the brief moment of endearment that had passed between them. The gesture could not have been an accident. Her hand still tingled from the light touch of Marcus’s fingers after the team and wagon had been rescued from the hole in the woods. Marcus had clearly tried to comfort her. But then he had been studiously ignoring her ever since he had come in from the woods for dinner.
She wished now she had expressed more emotion, perhaps with a quick squeeze of her hand in response, instead of rushing off towards the schoolhouse, but his compassion had caught her so off guard. Marcus had seemed to genuinely care about her accident. His concern had gone deeper than any potential damage to the wagon or his team of horses. The worried look in his eyes had been about her.
Mary forced herself to breathe. William and Sarah, the parents of one of her students, were filling their plates across from her.
“Quite a goot morning of work that was.” William glanced over at her and grinned.
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br /> “Yah, it was,” Mary agreed.
Sarah chimed in, “I wanted to tell you, our Josiah so enjoys your classes. He can’t stop talking about school when he gets home.”
“Thank you,” Mary replied sweetly. Now she was embarrassed. “If I only knew how to drive a wagon in the woods.”
“Oh, that.” William dismissively waved his hand. “The woods are full of holes, and you handled Marcus’s team quite well. He is greatly blessed of the Lord, I would say.” William’s grin grew.
“Thank you,” Mary managed.
Protesting her relationship with Marcus was useless. She was certain several people had witnessed his expression of endearment, and word spread quickly.
“Not only is Marcus blessed.” Sarah beamed across the table at her. “You have been such a blessing to everyone in the short time you have been in our community. Our prayers for a new schoolteacher have been abundantly answered, as have Marcus’s prayers, I’m sure. We wish you both the Lord’s greatest blessings.”
“That we do,” William echoed.
Mary nearly dumped a spoonful of casserole on the table instead of onto her plate, but William and Sarah didn’t appear to notice.
William was pointing to one of the meat casseroles, commenting to Sarah, “This looks delicious.”
“Yah! Pricilla, Bishop Mullet’s wife, made that,” Sarah replied.
William appeared satisfied and dished several spoonfuls onto his plate. Mary steadied her hand as she filled her glass with lemonade at the end of the table and took a sip to calm her nerves. She glanced around for a place to sit, and saw Marcus motioning for her to cross the room and sit beside him. She froze. Had she been wrong about him again? Had Marcus not been ignoring her? Goodness, he was confusing.
Marcus motioned again, more emphatically this time. She could ignore him, and no one would notice in this chattering crowd. But she didn’t want to. That was the perplexing truth. Marcus should not have such power over her with a simple touch of his hand. Maybe the excitement of the day had affected her? Her feelings would likely settle down after she ate lunch. She forced her feet to move in Marcus’s direction, dodging several small children who raced across the crowded room.
Marcus made room for her beside him on the bench. Several people noticed and sent sly, approving smiles their way. Well, they would have to think what they wished. She was not dating the man, and didn’t plan to. Marcus would never ask her for a date, even if she wanted him to. Which she didn’t!
“There.” Mary sat down. “Why are you asking me to sit beside you?”
He grinned. “The food is delicious.”
“I suppose so.” She took a bite and avoided his gaze.
“The pile of wood behind the barn is pretty high,” he said.
“It is,” she agreed. “That should last me for this winter and leave enough for next year’s schoolteacher.”
His spoon froze in midair. “You’re leaving after this term?”
She didn’t look at him. “Maybe? I have yet to think about next year. It’s a little early.”
His spoon moved again. “Everyone is very appreciative of your teaching. You should stay.”
“You think so?”
“My siblings love your teaching. I’ve never heard so much chatter about all the things they’re learning. And the parents obviously approve of you, too.”
“I’m a first-term teacher and a new girl in the community.”
“You have clearly impressed everyone,” he said.
She took a bite of the meat casserole. “Except you?”
“You were quite goot with my team this morning,” he said.
She let his dodge pass. “Well, I am glad I came to the community. I think the Lord was definitely leading.”
“That seems to be the general feeling.”
Mary ate slowly and didn’t respond.
“Mam is marrying next month,” he finally said. “Middle of November, it looks like.”
“That’s wunderbah.”
“It is time,” he said.
“Did you know this was coming?”
“Not really, but I should have expected it, I guess.”
She paused before replying. She didn’t want to mess things up this time. Neither did she want to pass up this opportunity for a meaningful conversation.
She kept her voice as gentle as she could. “How do you feel about your life changing so much again?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Come on, you know. Things are going to be different.”
“I suppose so,” he allowed. “I’ll have to handle the change like everything else in life that the Lord brings my way.”
“Don’t you think admitting the pain and discomfort would help?”
“I just did, and nothing changed. We still have to face things. Life goes on. We can either go with it or sit around feeling sorry for ourselves and discussing our hurts.”
“You know that’s misconstruing what I said.”
“So what did you mean?”
“Doesn’t the Lord allow us to mourn?”
“I did mourn when Dat passed.”
For how long? she wanted to ask. Two minutes? “I’m saying we should be honest. Face the pain, and lean on others for comfort.”
Marcus stopped eating and looked at her squarely.
“You think I’m not dealing properly with Dat’s passing, and now Mam’s marriage.”
Mary met his gaze, unflinching. “Maybe I think there are better ways.”
He wanted to push back, to tell her she was flat-out wrong, but instead he shrugged and jabbed his fork into a slightly undercooked potato. “I guess we are allowed our opinions.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “Thank you for understanding.”
He fell silent.
He obviously didn’t understand. She tried again. “What are your plans when your mam weds? Are you staying on the farm?”
“We haven’t decided yet.”
“I guess this has come up rather quickly. No ideas?”
“There are,” he said. “I could buy the place.”
“You mean the farm you are living on now?”
“Yah. Why not?”
“Isn’t that quite an undertaking for a young man?”
“Many of my friends have their own farms. Granted, they are wed, but I don’t see why I can’t manage it alone.”
She forced a laugh. “I guess so.”
“You don’t think I can handle the load?”
“I think you’re adding to the load. A bachelor’s life? Why are you even considering that?”
“Apparently the Lord has those plans for me.”
“Have you been in communion with him?”
“You are mocking me,” he said. “I’m serious.”
“I don’t understand.”
He fell silent again.
“I guess I don’t have to understand,” she added. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Things are what they are.”
She leaned towards him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. They don’t have to be that way.”
He looked skeptically at her. “You do have strange ideas.”
She ignored the barb. “Surely there is a prospect in the wings. You’re not that . . .” She quit.
“Really?” He was looking at her. “Thanks for the compliment, at least.”
“Well, it’s true. You have . . .” She stopped again.
“What?”
“Potential. I mean . . . Look, this is not my place, really.”
“Well, the Lord seems to disagree with your opinion on this matter,” he said.
“Why?”
“There has to be someone available first, which there isn’t. Not the right kind of woman, anyway.” He looked away, his neck growing red.
“Is that so,” she said skeptically, and then quickly drew back. “I’m sorry. I’m out of my place again.”
He didn’t answer for a long time, his plate e
mpty. “You are thinking I am partly to blame?”
She kept her eyes on the floor, and didn’t answer.
“Mostly, perhaps?”
She lifted her gaze. “Look. I have said too much already, like I usually do. My faults are many, of which this one is the greatest.”
“Would you care to enlighten me on what you mean?”
Her heart was pounding wildly. Marcus had to hear the thumping in her ears.
“I am listening,” he said.
“Are you changing your mind about me?” she deflected.
His smile was wry. “Let’s say you are persuading me to consider another point of view. Are you not a teacher?”
“You don’t mean that. Not really.”
He reached over to touch her hand. “So why don’t you tell me again what you think I should have done about Dat’s passing, and now Mam’s wedding?”
She couldn’t move, let alone form coherent thoughts. “Perhaps we should talk a different time.”
He looked around the room. “No one is paying attention. Now is fine.”
She forced out a breath. “Well, for one, I could be a listening ear as you talk through your pain. I think this is what you need. Express your feelings and admit your suffering. That would soften you.”
“And make me less critical?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He pulled away his hand.
She wanted to cover her head with her apron and scream. Had she blown the moment? “I’m sorry if I have said too much,” she whispered.
“I’ll have to think about this,” he said.
Mary tried not to look at his face as Marcus stood. “There is dessert. Are you coming?”
Mary followed him back to the table, where a short line had formed in front of the pies and cakes, relieved to have a distraction. She had no idea whether the conversation had gone well or been a disaster. She only knew that she felt very odd.
Marcus stood waiting with Mary at his shoulder. The hum of the room filled his ears and his thoughts raced. Why had he opened up to Mary? Yet, he had meant every word that came out of his mouth, even if they had been strange ones. The woman had bewitched him, but on the other hand, maybe he was wrong? Maybe there were a lot of things wrong in his life, or as Mary preferred to say, things that could be improved upon. He didn’t dare think further. The implications were too profound.