A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  “To?”

  He shrugged.

  “To what?”

  Silas sighed. “I keep going back and forth whether I should tell you this.”

  I inhaled sharply. He had no intention of addressing the topic of us. He was concerned about Arden . . . maybe about the land. “Does this have to do with something Arden wanted to do?”

  “Present tense,” Silas answered.

  “Wants?” I crossed my arms. “Does this have to do with some documents I saw on the desk in the barn? About fracking?”

  “I’m guessing he’s pursuing that again.” Silas met my eyes. “Every farm needs an advocate—someone who loves the land more than money. First this farm lost you. Now it’s lost your Dat.”

  “Maybe Milton will step up and be the next advocate.”

  Silas nodded. “Maybe. But perhaps by then there will be an apartment complex over there.” He pointed toward the woods. “Jah,” he said. “He talked about that again, too, once your Dat became ill.” Then he pointed down toward the ground. “And a fracking operation here.”

  “Here? Where the old oak is?”

  Silas nodded.

  “No,” I whispered, imagining the rocks and natural gas deep in the ground. “How could Arden even consider such a thing?” I pressed my hand against the tree. “Why is he so certain he can’t make a profit off farming?”

  “Maybe because he doesn’t like working the land. He wants to take shortcuts. Volunteer to take on other duties in the district, like managing the mutual fund and things like that, instead of spending his time farming.”

  “Do you think the land can be profitable?”

  “Sure, with some extra work.” As darkness settled, the wind picked up and rustled through the branches.

  “I wish I could do something to help,” I said. I couldn’t see Silas’s eyes.

  “Pray,” he said. “And remember, there’s a spiritual connection to the land. God gave it to your family. He desires that it be cared for and protected. Ask for wisdom and for direction about what to do.”

  I nodded in agreement as tears stung my eyes again. Silas understood. He’d always understood. How many times, before I left, had he reminded me to pray? How many times, because of his calm spirit, had I actually followed his suggestion? Even toward the end, he encouraged me to pray. And I did, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. Until I decided to leave. Until I screamed at him, to no avail.

  I couldn’t overreact now, not if I wanted a solution.

  Maybe there was something I could do. Maybe working the file on the Stoltz fracking case could give me an idea on how to deal with Arden. I could go back to Harrisburg—Tom! I hadn’t texted him.

  “Oh dear,” I said, pulling my phone from the pocket of my apron. “I need to text Tom that I’m staying here longer. I completely forgot. . . .”

  “And I need to get home,” Silas said.

  We started back toward the gate.

  “You’re not coming in for dinner?”

  He shook his head.

  “Because of all the Bachmann drama?”

  He hesitated a moment and then said, “And because of my Mamm. I’ve been neglecting her for the last several months.”

  I didn’t respond. His Mamm. I’d asked him to leave with me without a thought to Edith. Nausea swept through me for a moment. Had I thought she’d come with us? Had I actually thought she’d be okay by herself if she didn’t?

  When we reached the gate, Silas headed toward the barn for his horse. I started to text Tom as I walked toward the house. But then I decided to call him.

  “Hey,” he answered. “Are you home?”

  Home was not where he expected. “I ended up staying,” I said. “Silas quit and there was no one else to help.”

  His voice fell flat. “Jessica, are you sure?”

  “Jah.” I winced at how easy it was for me to slip into my old way of speaking. “They need me.”

  “Even when they treat you so poorly?”

  “I’m doing it in my Dat’s memory,” I said, “and because of the land. That’s all.”

  He sighed.

  “Sorry,” I said. Clearly he was disappointed in me. “I’ll need another few days off work—except, I was thinking about driving up tomorrow and getting the Stoltz file. I’ll send Deanna a text to let her know. The Stoltz farm is close to here. I thought I could go by and ask some questions.”

  “All right.” His voice was back to normal.

  “Want to have lunch?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  We spoke for a few more minutes about Arden and the farm. “Why did Silas quit?” Tom asked.

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “He feels caught in the middle of all of my family’s drama.”

  Tom chuckled a little. “Silas is a good man.”

  I smiled. Both Tom and Silas were good men. And if they didn’t live in such separate worlds, they’d probably be friends.

  After we said our good-byes, I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Instead of going into the house, though, I backtracked to the Dawdi Haus. Aenti Suz came to the door wearing her bathrobe and slippers.

  “I have beef and barley soup on the stove and freshly baked bread,” she said.

  “Perfect,” I answered.

  A few minutes later, as I ate, she said, “I heard Silas quit.”

  I nodded.

  She frowned. “That poor boy. He’s been moping around here ever since you left.”

  “What do you mean?” She couldn’t pull that trick again. She’d already tried once. “He’s been courting Gail.”

  “True,” she said. “But why hasn’t he joined the church? Why hasn’t he married her?”

  “He’s going to,” I answered.

  She shook her head. “He’s been leaving room for you to come back.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Besides, I don’t want to talk about Silas. I’d rather you told me the rest of Ruby’s story.”

  She yawned and quickly covered her mouth. “Maybe not the rest, but more,” she answered. “Where were we?”

  “Ruby had just received the letter that Zachary was badly wounded, and Duncan offered to go to Valley Forge for her.”

  “That’s right,” Aenti Suz said. “Because she couldn’t leave her Mamm.”

  I nodded, ready to forget my own problems. Listening to Ruby’s story was like a good book—except it was set on my childhood farm and I shared DNA with the protagonist.

  12

  Ruby

  Ruby didn’t feel right about Duncan traveling that far by himself. He’d have to take the wagon to be able to bring Zachary back. If a wheel or axle broke, it would be nearly impossible for him to fix it. And Ruby wasn’t sure if he’d know how to care for Zachary either.

  But she couldn’t leave Mamm. She considered trying to hire a local girl, but she feared Mamm might be dying and felt it too much to ask of another person. There was the matter of the chores too. There weren’t any older boys and young men left—they’d all been conscripted as soldiers or had fled.

  The next morning, Mamm opened her eyes but didn’t seem to focus on Ruby, although she managed to say, “Trust the Lord, dear one. Pray that His will be done.”

  She didn’t speak, nor did she eat after that. Ruby asked Duncan to wait a couple of days before he left. She couldn’t bear the thought of being alone if Mamm died.

  Ruby sat beside Mamm’s bed as much as she could, moistening her mother’s mouth with a damp cloth and reading to her from Dat’s Bible. She prayed silently for Mamm and Zachary, too, throughout the day.

  That evening Mamm’s breathing grew raspy. Ruby sat up with her, leaving the lamp burning, feeling destitute at the thought of her mother passing. At some point, toward morning, she dozed, and when she woke, she realized her Mamm was gone. She sat until the sun rose and then staggered over to the Wallis farm, overcome with sorrow, and asked Duncan to go fetch the minister. There was no reason, with most of the congregation gone, to wait to bury
Mamm. The ground was only going to grow colder and would be harder to dig.

  While Duncan was gone, Old Man Wallis did the milking and Ruby washed Mamm one last time. When Duncan returned, saying the minister would arrive soon, he and his uncle made a pine box from boards they found in the barn. By the time the minister arrived, Duncan, Old Man Wallis, and Ruby had managed to get Mamm’s body into the box.

  The minister was ill, but he went with Duncan to the small plot on the edge of the farm where Ruby’s Dat and her siblings who had died young had been buried and dug another hole for Mamm. At least the weather was warm enough and the ground still soft. Old Man Duncan said he could feel it in his bones that a cold snap was coming though.

  Ruby hitched the workhorses to the wagon, and when Duncan and the minister returned, they all managed to carry the box, with Old Man Wallis’s help, out to the wagon and then transport it to the burial plot. The minister said a few words and led them in a silent prayer. Then the four of them lowered the box into the ground. Duncan worked at shoveling the dirt on top and then Ruby took a turn, saying she wanted to have a part in it, but honestly she was afraid it was all too much for Duncan. She didn’t want him to reinjure himself. The minister ended up completing the job, but then fell into a coughing spell.

  When they all arrived back at the cabin, Ruby fed the men ham and sweet potatoes and biscuits. She told the minister about the letters she’d received, the two from Paul and the one from Zachary.

  Duncan explained that he would go find Zachary at Valley Forge. Ruby didn’t say anything because she was sure the minister wouldn’t approve, but since Mamm had died she could go with Duncan. That was what she planned to do—if Old Man Wallis could keep up with the chores on both farms. It would be a lot for him, she knew, but the essential tasks were to feed and water the animals. She thought he could manage that.

  Before the minister left, he pulled Ruby aside. “I’m grateful for the help of your neighbors, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here alone. Come stay with my wife and me.”

  Ruby politely declined, saying that Zachary would be back soon and she’d need to nurse him back to health. The minister seemed troubled but didn’t say anything more and soon left. She was grateful he didn’t meddle in the affairs of others, even though, because of his position, he had the right to. For the first time in her life, she was making decisions on her own instead of relying on her parents or brothers to make them for her.

  Before Duncan left for home with his uncle, he said he would leave in the morning for Valley Forge.

  “Could we talk things through? Before you go in the morning?” Ruby asked.

  He nodded, a questioning look on his face, but didn’t say anything more.

  After he left, Ruby realized it was Christmas Day. She sank down in front of the fire and let the tears roll down her face. For her mother. For Zachary. For Paul. Never in her life had she been alone. Finally, she rose, washed her face, and thought through her plan.

  The next morning, before she milked the cows and fed the calf, workhorses, and chickens, she packed food for the trip, a basket of food for Old Man Wallis, and a bag of cabbage, turnips, and onions plus a ham and a slab of bacon from the year before to contribute to the feeding of the soldiers at Valley Forge. The food wouldn’t go far, and she certainly didn’t agree with what the soldiers were fighting for, but the thought of people going hungry pained her. Then she collected bedding from the cabin and stacked it by the door.

  Old Man Wallis was right. A morning frost had blanketed the farm and a heavy fog hung low. After she finished her chores, she hitched Gunnar and Gustaf to the wagon and loaded the supplies in it, expecting Duncan any minute. When he didn’t appear, she grabbed the basket and marched across the frosty field to the fence, climbed it, and then continued on to the Wallis home.

  Duncan opened the door, dressed in his oil coat and hat, a cane in his hand instead of his crutch. “I was just coming down,” he said. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “He fell again,” Old Man Wallis said, “and couldn’t get up—”

  “I’m fine.” Duncan shot his uncle an annoyed look and then turned toward to Ruby. “It wasn’t bad, really.”

  Ruby stood tall and squared her shoulders. She wore an old coat Zachary had outgrown years ago. “I’m going with you to Valley Forge.” She looked past him. “If Mr. Wallis can see to my chores too.”

  “I can,” he answered.

  But Duncan said, “It’s too dangerous for a woman to go.”

  She knew if she said it was too dangerous for him to go alone that he’d be offended. So instead she said, “I don’t want to get in your way on the trip there, but I think I should be along for the trip home. We have no idea how bad Zachary’s injuries are. It would be difficult for you to care for him and drive the team. It might delay you a day or two.”

  He seemed to be considering it but then said, “An army camp is no place for you.”

  “We won’t be there long.”

  “She should go with you,” Old Man Wallis said. “Two is better than one when it comes to a journey. And the weather may turn. It wouldn’t be good for you to be out there alone in the cold.”

  Duncan hesitated again, but then said, “All right.”

  She placed the basket of food on the table and told Old Man Wallis it was for him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll see to things on both farms.”

  Ruby thanked him, regretting how she’d misjudged him through the years. Or perhaps he’d changed. Perhaps they all had.

  Once she and Duncan were on the road, with several wool blankets tucked around their legs, Ruby began having second thoughts about traveling alone with a man who wasn’t part of her family, let alone her congregation. Perhaps she should have spoken to the minister first. Perhaps she should have asked him to go with Duncan to fetch Zachary. Except that wouldn’t have worked. Minister Fischer was still ill and his wife was pregnant. He couldn’t be tasked with such a trip and caring for Zachary too.

  Ruby’s gaze fell to the right and she shivered. The frost hadn’t thawed and still hung from the bare tree branches along the creek. She’d come to a manageable working relationship with Duncan through the last couple of months, but being alone with him in the wagon made her feel as if he were a complete stranger again. She sighed. That wasn’t true. She didn’t feel the animosity that had been between them at the beginning. Working with him had made him seem familiar in a way that she hadn’t even felt with Paul—probably because they hadn’t worked together. He’d farmed while she’d cooked and cleaned and tended the garden. But with Duncan, she’d had to work with him to survive. She couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like since Paul and the rest left if Duncan hadn’t moved in with his uncle.

  The road was full of ruts because of the rains that had made a pathway of mud, which then froze. Soon they passed through a wood, then by an inn, and then onto the road to Philadelphia. Ruby had been to the city years before, when she was nine. Her father had business to attend to for supplies to expand the house, and she and Zachary had gone along.

  In places, stones lined the surface of the road, but in others it was rutted too. Overall, the road was in better shape than she remembered.

  Duncan said he knew of an inn past the halfway point where they would stay that night. Again a feeling of unease came over Ruby. She doubted Mamm would approve, and she knew Paul wouldn’t. She’d been impulsive to say she’d come along.

  However, she knew Duncan was a gentleman, despite their first encounter. Mamm saw his tender side too. But Paul would never believe an Englischman could be so kind.

  Still, she truly believed this was what would be best for Zachary. God, she prayed, leaning back against the bench, I hope I wasn’t foolish to come. Please watch over—she nearly said me, but then changed it to us. Please watch over us. Please lead us to Zachary. Please care for him and comfort him until we can arrive. Please keep Duncan safe and from further injury.

 
The horses trotted along. Duncan remained silent and soon Ruby dozed. When she awoke, the day had warmed above freezing. Toward midafternoon, clouds gathered on the eastern horizon, growing larger and darker as they traveled. Dusk had fallen as they neared the inn.

  Duncan sighed, most likely relieved to reach a safe place before nightfall. A stable boy helped him unhitch the horses, and together they all worked to unharness and brush them down. Ruby wondered about leaving the food in the wagon and didn’t want to ask about it in front of the stable boy, but then Duncan said he would sleep in the wagon and keep an eye on everything.

  After a bowl of stew and a slice of bread, eaten at the end of the table crowded with rowdy men, Ruby and Duncan stood by the fire a little longer. Some of the men left, probably ones who lived nearby, but the others appeared to be staying at the inn that night. Ruby turned toward the fireplace to warm her hands.

  Duncan stepped closer to her and whispered, “Will you be all right?”

  “Jah,” she answered. “I believe I’ll be fine.” The truth was, at this point, she’d rather sleep outside near Duncan, but that wouldn’t be acceptable either.

  “All right,” he said, “I’m going to go check on the horses and then bed down. Let’s leave at first light.” Then, in an even softer voice, he said, “Barricade your door with a chair. If anyone tries to get in, yell out the window, and I’ll see to you as quickly as I can.”

  Ruby nodded her head and started toward the stairs. But then she heard Duncan greet someone. A woman, close to Ruby’s age, had just come through the door. She was well dressed and carried herself with confidence. Duncan was hugging the woman, an expression of joy on his face. Obviously he knew her.

  A wool jacket covered the woman’s bodice and waist, her fashionable skirt, open in front above the hem, revealed a lacy petticoat. She wore slippers on her dainty feet and silk stockings. The woman wore her hair in ringlets piled high on her head, partially covered by a fancy hat.

  Ruby touched her simple Kapp. Her plain wool coat mostly covered her plain dress and apron. Jah, she was so plain. And the woman was so beautiful.