The Healing

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The Healing Page 4

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “I was thinking,” Samuel mumbled.

  “About what you’re gonna say to Mom and Dad?”

  Samuel shook his head. “That’s easy enough. I’m just going to tell ‘em we got here okay. I was thinking about other things.” He hurried out the door before Titus had a chance to question him further. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings, and he hoped Titus wouldn’t pry. He wanted the chance to start over and needed to concentrate on finding a way to earn a decent living so he could provide for his kids, because he wasn’t about to let Titus support them very long.

  Samuel stepped behind the barn to the phone shanty Titus had shown him earlier. After he’d made a call to his folks and left a message, he dialed his brother Zach’s cell phone.

  “Hey, Zach, it’s me, Samuel,” he said, when Zach’s voice mail came on. “Just wanted you to know that we made it to Titus’s okay. Talk to you soon.”

  Samuel hung up the phone and trudged back through the slippery, wet snow toward the house. He was sort of glad he merely had to leave a message for his parents and brother. Right now, holding a conversation and answering a lot of questions would have drained him even more.

  He’d only made it halfway there, when the two cats the kids had been playing with earlier darted out of the barn, followed by Lucky, who was hot on their heels. Hissing and meowing, the cats ran up the nearest tree. Lucky slid across the snow after them, bounced against the tree, and toppled over. He didn’t stay down long though. He leaped to his feet and started barking frantically as he pawed at the trunk of the tree.

  Samuel’s son, Leon, dashed across the yard hollering at the dog, “Kumme, Lucky!” He slapped the side of his leg a couple of times. “Come to me now!”

  The dog kept barking as he crouched in front of the tree, looking up at the cats huddled together on a branch high above.

  “I was gonna play with the katze till Lucky came along and scared the life outa ‘em,” Leon grumbled.

  Samuel bent down and grabbed Lucky’s collar, but the dog growled and bared his teeth.

  “Knock it off!” Samuel shouted. “You know better than that. Now come with me, you dummkopp hund.”

  “Lucky ain’t stupid, Daadi. He’s a very schmaert dog,” Leon said, lifting his chin to look up at Samuel.

  “He’s not too smart when he doesn’t do what he’s told.” Samuel pulled Lucky to his feet and continued slipping and sliding in the direction of the barn. He was almost there, when a horse and buggy rolled into the yard. He recognized Suzanne when she climbed down from the buggy, but he didn’t know the young, dark-haired woman with her.

  When Esther stepped out of Suzanne’s buggy, she noticed a tall Amish man with light brown hair peeking out from under his dark blue stocking cap. He held onto the collar of a black Lab, thrashing about, kicking up snow with its back feet.

  “That’s Titus’s brother, Samuel,” Suzanne said to Esther. “I’d introduce you, but he seems a little busy right now.”

  Obviously struggling to gain control over the dog, Samuel leaned to the right, then to the left. With a sudden jerk, the dog pulled free, and Samuel fell, facedown in the snow. He came up, red-faced and hollering, “You dummkopp hund! I should have left you in Pennsylvania to fend for yourself!”

  It was a comical sight, and Esther struggled not to laugh. She could tell by the way Suzanne’s face was contorted that she thought it was funny, too.

  The young boy with sandy brown hair who stood nearby wasn’t laughing. He looked up at Samuel and said in a pathetic little voice, “Daadi, please don’t yell at Lucky. He just wants to be free to run.”

  “Well, he’s not gonna be free. I’m puttin’ him away in the barn so he can’t terrorize those cats anymore!”

  “Don’t think he means to hurt the katze,” the child said. “Think he just wants to play with ‘em.”

  Ignoring the boy’s comment, Samuel chased after the dog, grabbed hold of its collar, and pulled the struggling animal to the barn.

  Feeling the need to comfort the boy, who appeared to be on the verge of tears, Esther knelt in the snow beside him. “My name’s Esther. What’s yours?”

  “Leon.” The child dropped his gaze to the ground. Was he shy or just upset about the dog and not wanting to let on?

  “How old are you, Leon?” Esther asked.

  “Six. I’m in the first grade at school.”

  “Is Lucky your dog?”

  Leon lifted his head and looked right at Esther. “Nope. He liked our mamm the best, but after she went to heaven, he started hangin’ around my daed.” Tears welled in Leon’s brown eyes, and he sniffed a couple of times. “’Course Daadi don’t like Lucky much. He don’t like much of anything since Mammi died.”

  Esther’s heart went out to the boy. She was sure that he wasn’t just upset about the dog. He missed his mother and didn’t understand the reason for his dad’s behavior.

  A few minutes later, Samuel reappeared—without the dog.

  “It’s good to see you, Samuel,” Suzanne said, shaking his hand. “How was your trip?”

  “It went okay.”

  Suzanne motioned to Esther. “This is my friend Esther Beiler. We were on our way to the bakery but decided to stop here first and see if Titus wanted us to pick something up for him.”

  Samuel barely glanced at Esther. Then with a quick, “Nice to meet you,” he tromped off toward the house.

  “Maybe we picked a bad time to come,” Esther whispered to Suzanne.

  Suzanne shrugged. “We’re here now, and I want to see Titus, so let’s go inside.” She looked down at Leon and held out her hand. “You’d better come with us. It’s too cold to be out here in the snow.”

  When they stepped into the living room, Esther was surprised to see Titus sitting on the couch with two young girls, one with blond hair and one with brown hair, on either side of him. In his lap he held a small, blond-haired boy wearing diapers and a white T-shirt. Titus looked perfectly comfortable with the children.

  He’ll make a good father someday, Esther thought, and Suzanne will be a good mother.

  “Did anything unusual happen outside?” Titus asked, looking at Suzanne. “When Samuel came in a few minutes ago, covered in snow, he tromped off to his room like he was really upset.”

  Suzanne explained what had transpired with the dog and went on to say how angry Samuel had gotten.

  “My bruder’s going through a rough time right now, so we’ll need to be patient with him,” Titus said.

  Suzanne touched Leon’s shoulder as she nodded at the three children sitting with Titus. “We need to help his kinner adjust to their new surroundings, too.”

  “Jah.” Titus looked at Esther. “Would you like to meet my nieces and nephews?”

  She smiled. “I met Leon outside, but of course I’d like to meet his brother and sisters, too.”

  “This is Marla.” Titus motioned to the girl on his left. “She’s eight years old, and here on my right is Penny. She’s four. Now this little guy here is Jared, and he’s two,” he said, placing his hand on the boy’s blond head.

  Esther knelt on the floor in front of the couch, smiling up at the children. “Mei naame is Esther.”

  The children nodded as they stared at her with curious expressions.

  Esther stayed like that for several seconds then rose to her feet. Samuel’s children were obviously not comfortable around her yet. She’d always loved children and hoped she’d have the chance to get to know these four in the days ahead. But for now, not wanting to overwhelm them, the simple introduction would suffice.

  CHAPTER 6

  During Bonnie’s first two days in Kentucky, she’d stayed at a hotel in Hopkinsville. The first day she had attended her grandmother’s funeral—alone, without her father because he’d refused to come here for his own mother’s funeral. The service had been held at the small church in Fairview where Grandma and Grandpa had attended. There wasn’t a large crowd, since many of Grandma and Grandpa’s friends were old and
had passed on, but the people who had come seemed nice and offered Bonnie their heartfelt sympathies at her grandmother’s passing.

  The second day, Bonnie had met with Grandma’s lawyer, Michael Givens, to go over the will and some other important papers. She still couldn’t believe Grandma had left her the house, as well as all her money. It really should have gone to Dad, but when she’d called him the other day, he’d said he wanted nothing that was his folks, including their money—nothing at all. Mr. Givens had reminded Bonnie that since her father was Grandma and Grandpa’s only child and was estranged from his parents, she should accept what had been left to her and be grateful.

  This morning, Bonnie had driven out to her grandparents’ home in the small town of Pembroke, where she’d been going through cupboards and closets and putting some things in boxes. It was a monumental job, but if she was going to get the place ready to sell, it had to be done. It was difficult sorting through these things—especially Grandma’s, as she’d been the last one living in this cozy old house. In the dresser drawers, Bonnie had found an abundance of cotton hankies with lace edges, several sweaters and slippers Grandma had obviously knitted, two flannel nightgowns, and some of Grandma’s lingerie.

  As Bonnie sat on the edge of the bed in Grandma’s room, which was on the main floor of the rambling old house, her fingers trailed over a pair of light blue knitted slippers. Grandma had taught her how to knit during a summer visit when Bonnie was twelve. She’d also helped Bonnie sew an apron, which she’d worn when she helped Grandma bake some cookies. Those were happy memories, and Bonnie wished she could relive them.

  The rumble of a vehicle interrupted Bonnie’s musings. She went to the window facing the front yard and looked out. A dark blue truck was parked in the driveway, next to the small red car she’d rented when she’d flown into Nashville. A young man with dark curly hair stepped out and trudged through the snow up to the house.

  Bonnie left the room and hurried to the door before he had a chance to knock.

  “Hi. I’m Allen Walters,” the man said. “I was driving by and noticed a car parked in the driveway so I decided to stop.”

  Bonnie tensed and folded her arms. “If you’re selling something, I’m really not interested.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a salesman. I’m a general contractor, and I understand that the woman who used to live here passed away recently, so I was wondering if the place might be up for sale.”

  Bonnie relaxed a bit. She might be able to sell the place quicker than she’d thought. She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Bonnie Taylor, and this house belonged to my grandparents, Andy and Margaret Taylor. I live in Portland, Oregon, but when I found out that Grandma had died, I came here for the funeral. Today I’ve been going through her things, trying to decide what I should get rid of and what I might want to keep.”

  “Did your grandmother leave the house to you?” he questioned.

  Bonnie nodded.

  “Are you going to sell it?”

  “That’s the plan.” She hugged her arms around her chest, feeling the cold air penetrate her skin. “So if you bought the house, would it be for you?”

  He shook his head. “I already have a house in Hopkinsville. However, I’m still interested in buying this place.”

  “How come?”

  “I often buy homes that need fixing up. Then after I renovate them, I turn around and sell them again.”

  “In other words, you make a profit?”

  Allen nodded, reached into his jacket pocket, and handed Bonnie his business card. “Give me a call once you’ve decided how much you want for the place.”

  “Okay.”

  As Allen walked away and Bonnie shut the door, a feeling of nostalgia washed over her. She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly having second thoughts about selling the house. But if she didn’t put Grandma and Grandpa’s place on the market, what would she do with it?

  She moved toward the fireplace to warm up and took a seat on the floor near the hearth. Looking about, despite the fact that the house was in dire need of repairs, it had a certain appeal and quaint-looking charm. The solid oak cupboards in the kitchen, with matching table and chairs; the spacious dining room with a built-in hutch; a roomy living room with a cozy window bench near the window; a simple, but beautiful, stained-glass window above the front door—this homey place reminded her of a quaint bed-and-breakfast she’d stayed in once along the Oregon coast. She’d been relaxed and comfortable there and hadn’t wanted to leave.

  I wonder what Grandma would think if I turned her house into a bed-and-breakfast. There are no hotels nearby—the closest ones are in Hopkinsville. If I opened a B&B, it would give folks visiting this area a nice place to stay. Bonnie rubbed her hands together in front of the fire as she contemplated the idea. But then, if I did that, I’d either have to hire someone to run the place or move here and run it myself.

  She stared at the flames lapping against the logs in the fireplace as she continued to ponder things. I’m really not that happy living in Oregon anyway, so if I quit my job and moved to Kentucky, it would be a new beginning for me. I have fond memories here, and it would certainly be an adventure.

  Samuel flopped onto the sofa in Titus’s living room with a groan. He hadn’t slept well last night, and it had been all he could do to hitch his horse to the buggy this morning and take Marla and Leon to school. As soon as he’d dropped them off, he’d come right back, prepared to spend the day resting. He knew he couldn’t lounge around forever though. Once he found someone who’d be willing to watch his kids, he’d look for a job.

  “Can Jared and me go outside and play?” Penny asked, tugging on Samuel’s shirtsleeve.

  Samuel shook his head. “You can play in here.”

  She thrust out her bottom lip in a pout. “We wanna play in the schnee.”

  “I said no. It’s cold outside, and you don’t need to play in the snow.”

  “But there’s nothin’ to do in here. Uncle Titus don’t have no toys for kids to play with.”

  “The toys we brought with us when we moved are in one of the boxes in my room.” Samuel rose from his seat. “Let’s go see.”

  Samuel headed for the bedroom, with Penny and Jared trudging after him. He looked through a couple of boxes that had been stacked along one wall, but the kids’ toys weren’t in any of them—just their clothes. When he opened another box, his breath caught in his throat. It was full of Elsie’s things.

  “What’s this?” Penny asked, pulling a soft yellow baby blanket from the box. It was one Elsie had made for the baby she’d lost when she’d fallen down the stairs.

  Samuel grabbed the blanket from Penny and clutched it to his chest. “It’s nothing. Just a blanket, that’s all.”

  She reached out her hand. “Can I have it, Daadi?”

  “No!” he said a bit too harshly. Then, gaining control of his emotions, he put the blanket back in the box.

  To Samuel’s relief, he found another box marked KIDS’ TOYS. Picking up the box, he hauled it out to the living room, set it on the floor, and opened the flaps. While the kids played with their toys, he would lie on the sofa and take a nap. Sleeping was the only way he could deal with his pain and escape from the raw emotions that still consumed him every waking moment and even in his dreams.

  As Esther headed in her buggy down the road toward Titus’s house, she thought about Samuel’s children and wondered how they were doing. She’d done some baking this morning and had decided to take a batch of cookies to the kids.

  Sometime later, Esther pulled her horse and buggy into Titus’s yard and was surprised to see little Penny and Jared rolling around in the snow with only lightweight jackets and no mittens or boots.

  “What are you two doing out here in the cold?” Esther asked after she’d tied her horse to the hitching rail.

  “We’re makin’ snow angels,” Penny said, standing up and pointing to her latest impression.

  Looking around at all the
imprints, Esther could see that the children had been quite busy. The urge to plop down and relive that special childhood memory was hard to resist, but right now she wanted to take the cookies inside and speak to Samuel about his two youngest children.

  “Where’s your daed?” Esther couldn’t imagine him letting them play out here by themselves. Especially little Jared, who was hardly more than a baby. What if he’d wandered off?

  “Daadi’s in there.” Penny pointed to the house.

  With the container of cookies tucked under one arm, Esther took the children’s hands, and they trudged through the snow to the house, where she knocked on the door. When no one answered, she turned the knob and went in. Samuel lay asleep on the sofa. She didn’t know whether to wake him or tiptoe to the kitchen and leave the cookies. Before she had the chance to decide, Samuel sat up with a start.

  “Wh–what’s going on? What are you doing here?” he mumbled, barely looking at her.

  “I brought some cookies for your kinner,” she explained. “When I got here, I was surprised to see the little ones playing in the snow by themselves, wearing only thin jackets and no boots or mittens.”

  “What?” He jumped up and glared at his children. “What were you two doing out there? I told you not to go outside!”

  Penny and Jared turned red-faced and looked guilty. Crystals of snow slowly melted from their hair.

  “Would you two like some peanut butter cookies?” Esther pointed to the container she held. “I made them this morning.”

  The children’s eyes lit right up. “Can we have some kichlin?” Penny asked, looking up at her father.

  “I should say no, since you disobeyed me and went outside, but if you promise to behave yourselves, you can have some cookies,” he said. “Go to your rooms first and take off your jackets and wet shoes before you go to the kitchen.”

  “Okay.”

  Penny grabbed her little brother’s hand, and they hurried down the hall.

  Esther felt a bit awkward, standing there holding the cookies, so she looked at Samuel and said, “Should I put these in the kitchen?”

 

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