The Amish Widow's Heart

by Marta Perry

  “Yah. She was in the kitchen when we came out. Do you want me to go see?”

  “That’s all right. I’ll find her.” With a wave, he headed for the house. He tapped lightly on the screen door and went into the mudroom, then on into the kitchen, calling out as he did.

  Beth answered, sounding normal, but when she turned from the stove and Daniel saw her face, he was shocked. During the visiting and the funeral after James’s death, she’d seemed frozen, hardly aware of her surroundings. Now the ice that had encased her was gone, and he could read her loss too easily.

  The gentleness had disappeared from her usually serene oval face, and her skin seemed shrunk against the bones, making her green eyes huge and tragic. Even her light brown hair had lost the curl she tried to suppress, straining back to the white kapp she wore.

  He gathered his wits together and struggled to sound normal. “There’s a ball game going on in the backyard. Don’t you want to join it?”

  Beth managed a smile at that, but it was a pitiful attempt. “Not just now. Can I do something for you, Daniel?”

  “That’s my question. You know I’m here to help with anything you want.” He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Can we sit down for a bit?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, coming to sit in the chair he’d pulled out while he took the one facing it. “How...how is everything at the store?”

  There was nothing of interest in her voice. In fact, it seemed that all her attention was turned inward to something that obsessed her to the exclusion of everything else.

  “Doing fine.” His voice sounded unnatural to him. “In fact, we need to talk about the store. I...” He stopped, shaking his head. “What’s wrong, Beth? We’re old friends, ain’t so? You can talk to me.”

  A flash of something that might have been anger crossed her face and as quickly disappeared.

  “Nothing.” Her voice was tart. She pressed her lips together for a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry. You were saying, about the store?”

  “Yah.” He’d like to press the matter, because it seemed clear to him that even more was wrong than grief, but something told him it wouldn’t be welcomed. She was only a couple of feet away across the width of the table, but it might as well be miles.

  “I wanted you to know that I’ve brought my nephew Timothy in to help out, now that James...” He stopped and started again. “We needed a little extra help. Anna’s a gut worker, but she’s young and needs direction.”

  He took a breath, deciding he was going in the wrong direction. He didn’t want to pile problems on Beth, only keep her up-to-date on the store that was her livelihood.

  “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know what was going on. Business is gut, and naturally your share remains the same.” He hesitated before going on with what he’d rehearsed saying.

  “I thought you might want to be a little more involved now, since it’s your business, too. You could come in a few hours now and then, maybe. Or look over the books, if you want.”

  She’d paid attention for a moment, but now he knew he’d lost her. She’d turned inward again, back to whatever it was that obsessed her. James’s death? Tragic as that was, he sensed there was something more going on.

  He’d thought to assure her that the store was under control and possibly to interest her in taking a more active role. But that seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

  “Beth.” He said her name gently, and after a moment her eyes focused on him. “It’s all right. I’ll keep on with the store the way I have been. I can see you don’t want to talk about it now.”

  She nodded, putting one hand up to her forehead. “Not now,” she echoed. “We’ll talk later, yah?”

  “Later.” He stood, disappointed in himself that he hadn’t found a way to help her. “Anything I can do, you know I will. I’ll see you later, then.”

  But when he moved toward the door, Beth seemed to come back from wherever she’d been. “Daniel.”

  He turned, eager to do something—anything—she needed.

  “There’s something I need to ask you.” She hesitated, as if trying to arrange her thoughts, and he waited.

  “That last night...the night of the accident.” She stopped, obviously struggling, but before he could say anything, she went on. “James said he was going to the store to do inventory.”

  Now it was Daniel’s turn to collect his thoughts. Half-afraid of where she was going, he nodded. “Yah, that’s right.”

  Beth had stood when he did, but now she leaned against the table, her hands planted on the top as if for support. She had always been slim as a young girl, despite having a child, but now she was almost gaunt.

  “What took him away from the store? Why was he out on that road where the accident...”

  She couldn’t finish it, and he had a moment to compose himself. He should have realized that at some point she’d ask that question. He should have prepared an answer. Did she suspect... No, that was impossible.

  Well, he couldn’t lie to her, so maybe it was just as well he hadn’t known where James had gone that night. “I’m sorry, Beth, but I don’t know. We’d finished up, and he went outside ahead of me. I saw he had the buggy, but he was already driving out before I had a chance to say anything.”

  That was the exact truth. What he’d thought...feared, even...he would keep to himself.

  “You don’t know?” Her gaze was fixed on his face, her eyes enormous.

  “I’m sorry.” He sought for some possibility. “We’d been talking about adding a few more crafts to the store. Maybe he was going to talk to someone about it.”

  It sounded feeble, even to him. Why would James be doing that at eight o’clock in the evening?

  But to his relief, Beth seemed satisfied. She nodded. Then, without a word, she turned back to the stove.

  There was nothing more to say. He slipped out quietly.

  It was all right, he assured himself. It had been a natural enough question for Beth to ask, once she’d gotten over the initial shock. There was no reason to think she suspected James of anything wrong.

  He’d need to keep it that way. His loyalty to his friend, his deep longing to protect Beth and Benjy...everything combined to insist that whatever his suspicions, they should never be spoken.

  * * *

  By the time Mamm and Grossmammi arrived to take Janie home, Beth had managed to convince herself that she was calm. Unhappily, she was aware that her composure was like a thin sheet of ice, ready to shatter at the slightest breath. She forced a smile and went outside to greet her mother and grandmother. Grossmammi was already chatting with Janie and Benjy, which probably meant that she was having one of her good days, living in the present instead of the past.

  “It’s gut to see you, Grossmammi.” She reached for the line to clip the harness to the hitching rail, but Janie got to it first. Benjy, very intent, helped her to latch it.

  Her mother slid down, not waiting for a helping hand, and landed lightly on her feet. With her rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, she didn’t look like the mother of five.

  They both reached up to help Grossmammi down. She pressed her cheek against Beth’s for a moment, but her attention was on her great-grandchildren.

  “My, you two look as if you’ve been having a fine time. What have you been doing?”

  “We played ball. Daniel did, too. And we gathered the eggs,” Benjy said. “I found three.”

  “Gut job.” Grossmammi patted his cheek. “How many did Janie find?”

  It was apparent that number was beyond him, so Janie helped him out, whispering the number in his ear.

  “Eight,” he said proudly.

  “We’ll have scrambled eggs for breakfast, ain’t so?” Bethany was pleased that she was able to sound almost normal. She glanced from her grandmother to her mother with a que
stion in her face, but Mammi could only shrug, probably meaning it was hard to tell how long her grandmother would stay grounded.

  Mammi lifted a basket down from under the buggy seat. “Who wants a whoopie pie?”

  “Me, me!” Benjy bounced up and down, and Janie looked as if she would as well, if not for remembering that she was fourteen now.

  “Let’s go in and fetch a napkin, and then you two can have yours out on the porch while Mammi gets us grown-ups a cup of coffee.”

  Beth put an arm around her grandmother as they walked into the house together with Mammi following. It took only a few minutes to settle the kinder with juice and whoopie pies. Then the adults gathered at the table with their treat.

  Grossmammi watched as she nibbled at the edge of hers. “Better eat it,” she said. “You’ve lost too much weight in the past month.”

  “Yah.” She couldn’t deny it, since the bodice of her dress hung loose on her. “I don’t have much appetite.”

  “Natural enough,” Mammi said. “But you must try. Take a real bite now.”

  Beth obeyed, inhaling the scent of chocolate and savoring the sweet, creamy filling. To her surprise, it actually went down without sticking in her throat.

  Grossmammi watched her with satisfaction, her face alert. Mammi had noticed the alertness, too, because she relaxed a bit.

  Her grandmother focused on Beth’s face. “Now, tell us what has you upset today.”

  Beth narrowly escaped biting her tongue. How did Grossmammi know? Still, when she was alert, there was no getting away from her.

  “Nothing,” Beth said, hoping she sounded convincing. “I’m not upset.”

  “Ach, Bethany, tell that to someone who doesn’t know you like we do.” Her mother joined in. “Komm now, tell us. Benjy said that Daniel Miller had been here. Did that upset you?”

  “No, no, of course not. He just wanted to let me know about how things are at the store.” She hesitated. “Well, and talk about the future, but I... I wasn’t ready to do that. He might have waited.”

  Mammi clucked her tongue. “That’s natural enough for him, ain’t so? After all, you are his partner now. He’ll want to know how things are going to change.”

  “I suppose so.” She felt a flicker of resentment. She’d expected Mammi to be on her side. Not that there were any sides to it. She’d have to focus on business soon. Just not today. “Well, I can stop by the store sometime soon, but I don’t know much about running it. James always said I had enough to do with the orchard and the garden and Benjy to look after.”

  “Yah, that’s so.” Mammi still studied her face. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

  First Daniel and now Mammi wanting to help. But they couldn’t, even if she told them, and she didn’t intend to do that.

  “Nothing,” she said firmly.

  Mammi rose. “I won’t tease you to tell me anything you’d rather not. Just remember we’re here, and there are lots of people who love you and want to help.”

  Grossmammi reached out to touch Beth’s cheek. Her grandmother had experienced loss, she knew, and Grossmammi’s expression was tinged with sorrow as she looked at Beth. “And God is always ready to listen, ain’t so?”

  Beth managed a nod, tears stinging her eyes. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to pray about this burden. Not now. Now she needed to be alone long enough to figure out how this had happened to her.

  Chapter Two

  Beth still had her grandmother’s words in her mind a few days later when she and Benjy walked up to the orchard together. Grossmammi’s advice was good, but Beth’s prayers seemed to bounce around until she wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the Lord or to herself. She prayed for acceptance, and in the next breath she was railing at James for his deception or wondering how she’d failed that he had turned away from her.

  “Look, Mammi, look!” Benjy tugged her along, pointing. “Look at the red apples. Is it time to pick them?”

  “Some of them.” She steered him away from the McIntosh. They wouldn’t be ready for a few more weeks. “Look at that tree. Those apples are called Honeycrisp. Some of them are ready to pick.”

  Running ahead, Benjy threw his arms around the tree in a hug. He looked up into the branches, standing on tiptoe to reach a ripe apple. “Can I pick it? Can I, Mammi?”

  “Yah, for sure. Let me show you how.” She closed her hand over his small one. “Twist it just a little while you pull gently. Like this.”

  The apple came away in Benjy’s hand, and he held it up with a delighted smile. “I did it.”

  Her heart swelled with love. “You did. See if you can reach some other ripe ones. I’ll hold that one.” She picked up the corners of her apron to form a makeshift basket.

  Benjy darted off in search of others he could reach, and she picked a few more, inhaling the rich apple scent. It seemed to carry with it a score of memories—her little brothers vying to see how many they could pick, and Daniel, always kind, boosting the smaller ones up to reach.

  Funny, that the orchard didn’t carry memories of James. He hadn’t been part of that early childhood, when Daniel as a near neighbor had naturally been there to help her uncle with the picking. James, living with his widowed mother in the center of town, had had no place there. Even after they bought Onkel Isaac’s place, James had left the orchard to her.

  So preoccupied was she with memories that she didn’t notice the figure coming toward them until Benjy’s shout.

  “Grossdaadi!” He hurtled through the grass, his chubby legs churning, and bolted into her father’s arms. Daadi lifted him over his head, then gave him a hug and set him down.

  “Komm, schnell. See all the apples I picked. They’re called Honey...” He looked at his mother.

  “Honeycrisp,” she prompted. “Because they’re sweet like honey and crisp when you bite into them.” She polished one against her apron and handed it to him. “Try it.”

  Grinning, he bit into it, rewarded by a spurt of juice that dribbled down his chin. “Yummy.” The word was muffled by apple, and she and Daad exchanged a smile.

  When Benjy ran off to find some more to pick, her father gestured to the rough-hewn bench Onkel Isaac had built long ago. “Komm. Sit.”

  Once they were settled, he glanced around the orchard. “A gut crop of the Honeycrisps this year. You can sell some at the store, ain’t so?”

  Beth tensed at the mention of the store, conscious of the fact that she still hadn’t had that talk with Daniel. “Did Mammi talk to you about me?”

  He patted her hand. “You can’t keep folks who love you from talking about you. You wouldn’t want to, now would you?”

  “I guess not,” she admitted. “I suppose you think I ought to make some decisions about the store, too.”

  Her father paused for a moment, as if considering the matter. “You want some time, for sure. But maybe you’re not seeing it from Daniel’s point of view. With James gone, you own his share of the store. It’s natural that Daniel would be anxious about your plans.”

  “I guess. But I don’t have any plans, not yet.” If she could be alone in her grief and betrayal...

  “Sometimes I think Daniel is married to that store.” Daad’s craggy face softened in a smile. “It’s natural, ain’t so? He doesn’t have a wife and kinder, and his father’s farm will go to his brother. He’s a hard worker. Always has been.”

  Was he making a contrast with James? She couldn’t tell. “James did a gut job with the store,” she said, feeling compelled to defend him, despite what she’d learned.

  “Ach, yah, I’m not saying he didn’t. All the more reason why Daniel wants to know what your plans are.”

  Daadi studied her face, maybe looking for a sign that she agreed. Then he glanced at the apples again.

  “I’ll send some of the family over tomorrow to help you do a fi
rst picking of apples. Then, if you want to sell them...” He waited, looking at her.

  “Yah, all right.” There was no getting out of it. “The Honeycrisp should be eaten when they’re ready, since they aren’t such gut keepers. We’ll give some to the family.” She forced herself to smile. “And I’ll talk to Daniel about selling them.”

  “Gut.” Daadi squeezed her hand, and that was as good as praise. “I can stay with Benjy while you go and see him. We’ll go ahead and pick a basket for you to take to him.”

  She hadn’t meant now, and she suspected Daad knew it. Still, if she must do it, it was better done now. And the same held true about making decisions for the future.

  * * *

  Daniel glanced up from the low shelf he was arranging at the sound of the bell and started to rise. He stopped for an instant before completing the movement. It wasn’t his imagination. It was Beth.

  He headed for her, relieved to think she was doing better. She must be, since she was here. Another step brought him close enough to chase that idea away. If anything, Beth looked even worse than she had the day he’d stopped by to see her. Strain had drawn her skin tautly against the bones of her face, and her cheeks seemed hollow. It was like seeing her when she was very old, and he could hardly keep from exclaiming at the sight.

  For a moment he couldn’t speak. Realizing that every customer in the store seemed similarly affected, he forced himself to say her name. “Beth, wilkom. I’m wonderful glad you came by today.”

  With a quick movement, Beth thrust the basket she carried at him. “Honeycrisp apples,” she said, as if that was an explanation for her presence.

  He saw the movement of her neck when she swallowed, and then she went on.

  “We’re going to do the first picking of the early apples tomorrow. Do you want a few baskets to sell? If you think anyone will want them, I mean.”

  “I’m certain folks will—”

  An Englisch customer moved closer to peer at the basket. “Honeycrisp, did you say? I can hardly ever find them. I’ll stop by on Friday morning. Hold a peck for me, will you?”