A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  “Have you come?” He was curled in a ball on a layer of hay that covered the bare ground. “I’ve prayed and prayed you would.”

  “Jah, it’s me,” Ruby said, “and Duncan Wallis. We’ve come to take you home.”

  “Not so fast.” A gruff voice from the doorway startled Ruby. “He’s not so bad. Others are worse. All he needs is another week of rest or so. Then he’ll be fit as a fiddle.”

  Ruby turned toward the man, ready to tell him not one soldier she’d seen yet appeared as fit as a fiddle.

  But Duncan grabbed her hand and said to the man. “Sir, perhaps you and I could speak in private while this sister tends to her brother?”

  “Perhaps I don’t have the time.” The man’s uniform was in better repair than any she’d seen so far.

  Duncan pulled something from the pocket of his coat and held it out. Even in the dim light she could tell it was a flask. Scotch, she guessed. She’d never seen Duncan drink, despite his pain, or even smelled it on his breath. Perhaps he brought it along for such an occasion.

  “Perhaps a drink together?” Duncan offered. “And we have food in the wagon too. For you and the other soldiers in Zachary’s squad.”

  Ruby did her best to care for Zachary as she told him Mamm had passed. She couldn’t tell in the dim light if tears filled his eyes, but his voice caught as he thanked her for caring for their mother and seeing to her burial. Ruby nodded in acknowledgment, swallowed hard, and then concentrated on his wounds. He had a gash across the back of his head that was bandaged with a rag. His left arm was riddled with open wounds, and his forearm was broken and held against him in a ratty sling. But the worst was his cough and how thin he was. When he’d left in early October, he was a strong and healthy young man. Now he was as weak as a baby.

  “Has a camp physician seen you?” Ruby asked.

  “No,” he replied. “There aren’t many.”

  “Do others have the cough?” she asked.

  “Jah,” he said. “Many do.”

  “Have you been eating?” she asked.

  “I had a bit of soup yesterday.”

  She went outside the cabin to ask Duncan if he could locate some water, but he wasn’t in sight. She asked a soldier walking by where she could find some. He pointed to a barrel a few cabins over. Unfortunately there was only a bit of brackish water in the bottom. She leaned in and scooped up what she could.

  First she gave Zachary a drink and then tore a strip from her petticoat to use to wash his wounds. Then she tore more strips and bandaged them. After she finished, Duncan returned without the other man.

  “We’re free to go,” he said.

  “It was that easy?” Ruby asked.

  Duncan nodded.

  “For now.” Zachary struggled to sit. “They’ll expect me back as soon as I’m well though, isn’t that correct?”

  “Something like that,” Duncan muttered.

  Ruby frowned but then redirected her thoughts. It did no good to borrow trouble. Besides, by spring they’d be in Canada.

  “We should get going.” Duncan stepped closer to Zachary and leaned on his cane. “Can you walk? Unfortunately I can’t carry you.”

  “I think so,” Zachary said.

  Ruby helped him up off the ground and then wrapped her arm around his waist. Duncan added as much support as he could on the other side. Together they shuffled out of the cabin. Zachary leaned against the wagon as Ruby made a bed in the back for him. Then she and Duncan helped Zachary as much as they could into the wagon. After she made him as comfortable as possible, she sat down beside him.

  Duncan climbed on the bench and pulled the horses around, heading back to the road. Later, when they stopped to water the horses, Duncan said he thought it best if they camped for the night. “You two can sleep in the wagon bed and I’ll sleep under it.” He pulled off the road into a stand of trees. A creek ran nearby.

  Duncan started a fire while Ruby stepped down to the creek and filled the bucket with icy water. After giving Zachary a drink, she watered the horses. Duncan said he’d unhitch and then feed them while she saw to their supper.

  She had cold ham and more cheese for them to eat, and she fried corn cakes in the cast-iron skillet she’d brought along. She also heated water over the fire and used the little bit of tea she had left.

  As Duncan sat on a rock by the fire, eating his supper, Ruby climbed into the wagon and helped Zachary eat. When he finished, she tucked the blankets around him and told him to sleep. By the time she joined Duncan, he’d finished eating and was stirring the fire.

  As Ruby finished her tea, Duncan said, “Hopefully we can make it all the way home tomorrow.”

  “We’ll have to see how Zachary does,” Ruby answered. She knew all the jostling and bumping around was hard on her brother. She lowered her voice. “Who was the man you spoke with?”

  “A sergeant.”

  “Did he say how Zachary was injured?”

  “No,” Duncan said. “But he did say that they had heavy losses at White Marsh. That was the last battle before they headed to Valley Forge.”

  “What do you think happened to Zachary?”

  “He was clearly fired upon.”

  “What about his broken arm?”

  “Perhaps he fell on it. Or a cannonball could have landed nearby and sent him flying.”

  Ruby nodded toward Duncan’s leg. “How were you injured?”

  He stared into the fire, and for a moment Ruby thought he hadn’t heard her. But then he winced, and she felt bad for asking him. Perhaps the memory was too difficult.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “No,” he answered. “I don’t mind you asking.” He glanced up, and in the shadows from the fire she could see the hint of a smile on his face. Then it grew serious again.

  “It was Christmastime, last year. The Battle of Trenton, the first one. We followed our commander-in-chief across the Delaware in icy conditions, and then we fought the Hessians.”

  Ruby had no idea who that was, and her expression must have given her ignorance away.

  “German soldiers,” Duncan said. “A contract militia hired by the British.”

  Ruby’s stomach sank. It made no sense to her for one country to hire soldiers from another. She’d never understand the ways of men.

  “Toward the end, as they retreated, it was obvious we’d won, something we sorely needed for morale. The platoon next to me, led by their captain, began celebrating too soon, and the Hessians got one more cannon shot off. It landed near me, sending shrapnel ripping through my leg. I feared I’d lose it at first.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ruby said.

  He shook his head. “Like I said, it could have been much worse.” He shrugged. “I was fortunate. Many died. More were horribly wounded. Maimed. Severely crippled.” He slapped his leg. “I was wounded just badly enough not to have to fight again.”

  “Jah,” Ruby said. “Thanks be to God.”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather be able to help my fellow soldiers.”

  “Like Captain McLeod?”

  Duncan shook his head a little. “He’s not the man Isabelle thinks. In fact, he was a bit of a fool that day. If he’d kept fighting, I probably wouldn’t have been injured.”

  “Oh?”

  Duncan shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.”

  It seemed Captain McLeod was the officer who led his men in the premature celebration. For a moment they were both silent, but then Ruby gathered her courage again and said, “Tell me about Jane.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” Duncan answered. “We grew up together. Probably similar to you and Paul. I thought she cared for me, but when I came back home wounded, it appeared she’d changed her mind.”

  “And she’s a friend of Isabelle’s?”

  “Yes,” Duncan said. “Best of friends.” The fire had died down and Duncan pushed himself up with his cane, put another piece of wood on the fire, and then sat back down on the rock. “T
here are times I envy how simple your life seems.” He met her eyes. “You seem so resolute. So sure of your path in life.”

  Her heart lurched. It was true that her family’s expectations of her were clear. But there were moments when she felt less than sure about everything. She wouldn’t admit that to Duncan, though. “Jah,” she said. “That’s true.”

  When he didn’t respond, she said, “But surely there are lessons you have learned from your hardships during this last year.”

  His gaze met hers, and for a moment she feared she’d insulted him. But then he smiled a little and said, “Yes.”

  The flames of the fire flickered and the smoke shifted, obscuring his face some.

  “Such as?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I’ve learned how important it is to be honest with oneself. To know one’s own heart.”

  She nodded, although she wasn’t sure she knew hers all that well.

  “And,” he said, “I’ve learned that the hard things in life are the ones that mold us. Sometimes for the better. Sometimes for the worse. It’s up to us. If we’re willing, I believe God truly does use those hardships to make us better, to allow us to serve Him more.”

  An ache settled in Ruby’s chest. Never once had Paul spoken about God’s work in his life, not directly.

  Duncan continued to stare at her. “Thank you for asking. It was good for me to give that subject some thought, to vocalize what I believe.” He smiled, and an expression of calm settled on his face.

  Ruby didn’t feel as calm as Duncan appeared. Instead, she felt unsettled to have him share so easily with her, even though she’d asked the question. In that moment she felt a spiritual connection with him that she’d never experienced with Paul.

  It was too much. She had no idea how to respond, so instead of trying, she stood quickly and gathered up their dishes and the skillet. She quickly cleaned them as Duncan continued to watch her. When she was done, she wished Duncan a good night and headed toward the wagon, her heart racing as she left him alone at the fire.

  Just before dawn the snow began to fall again. Ruby woke to the wet flakes on her face and the shuffle of Duncan’s cane and footsteps. She rose quickly, pulling her cape tight against the wet cold. Duncan worked at getting the fire started again.

  “I’ll water and feed the horses,” Ruby said. After she finished, she hitched the horses to the wagon as she watched the few swirls of smoke from Duncan’s fire. The snow was coming down too hard for it to take.

  “Let’s get going,” Ruby said. “We can eat cheese and bread on the way.”

  At first the wagon rolled along just fine, but as the morning progressed and more snow fell, the going grew more difficult. A couple of times the wagon slid. Thankfully, Duncan was a good driver and kept the horses calm and moving forward. They passed the inn where they’d stayed two nights before.

  By midafternoon the horses were struggling through the snow. Duncan stopped under a willow tree to let them rest. Zachary woke, and Ruby told him they’d only be delayed for a moment.

  He assured her he was all right and pulled the blankets over his face. She tucked them tight around his body and then grabbed the buckets and told Duncan she’d get the water. She knew it would be impossible for him to go down a slippery bank.

  Duncan came around to help her out of the back, but he slid on the wet snow and then steadied himself against the side of the wagon.

  “I’m fine,” Ruby said, hurrying over the back and then moving carefully.

  Duncan held on to the edge, a disturbed expression on his face. Ruby quickly looked away.

  The snow was deep going down the bank, and ice was forming on the edges of the creek. She broke it with the buckets, filled them as best she could, and then struggled back up the bank, spilling some of the water.

  Once the horses were cared for, Ruby told Duncan to get back on the bench. “I’ll lead them for a bit,” she said. “Perhaps that will help.” They only had a couple of hours of daylight left. The last thing she wanted was for Zachary to spend the night out in the cold again.

  She took long strides, plowing through the snow, pulling on the horses’ harnesses as she did. The horses followed her lead. She glanced back at Duncan, and he smiled at her. She was thankful for the boots Dat had purchased for her before he died. Her feet finally grew warm, as did her face. After ten minutes or so, Duncan slowed the horses and told her to get back into the wagon. Instead of returning to the bed, she climbed up onto the bench. Duncan lifted the blanket and she slid underneath it. Again she felt self-conscious riding beside him, even with Zachary in the back.

  Finally, she asked, “Do you think we’ll make it home tonight?”

  “I hope so,” Duncan answered, then nodded toward the back. “How is Zachary doing?”

  “About the same.” Ruby didn’t think he was any worse or any better. She pulled her cape tighter around her throat.

  “Take all the blanket,” Duncan said.

  “No. I’m fine,” Ruby said, “but thank you.”

  They left the main road and headed north toward their farms as dusk fell. Duncan asked if Ruby thought they should set up camp for the night and then go on in the morning.

  “No,” she said, “it will most likely only get worse.”

  Once darkness fell, Duncan stopped, and they managed to light the lantern. Immediately it cast a shadowy light across the snowy landscape. Ruby said a silent prayer of gratitude, realizing how tense she’d felt all day, afraid they wouldn’t get home. Now they were almost there. She rubbed her hands together, and then asked Duncan if he wanted her to take the reins for a while.

  “I’m doing fine,” he said.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “Surprisingly well,” he answered.

  She doubted he was telling the truth. They passed the minister’s farm. A single light burned in the downstairs window. What would he think once he realized what she’d done?

  The horses slowed even more, despite the fact that they were nearly home. They had to be exhausted. The road climbed a hill, and once they crested it, the horses picked up speed on the way down, but then an owl hooted as the road curved and Gunnar spooked.

  “Easy boy,” Duncan called out, pulling back on the reins. And then he called out, “Whoa!”

  Instead of stopping, the horses lurched forward, but in the opposite direction. Zachary stirred in the back as the wagon began to slide.

  “Hold on,” Duncan said.

  Ruby did, looking back at Zachary and grabbing the edge of the bench as the wagon slid toward the ditch.

  Zachary was sitting up now, his eyes wide open. “Whoa!” he shouted, his voice surprisingly strong. “Gunnar! Gustaf! Whoa!”

  First Gunnar stopped and then with another lurch, Gustaf followed suit. Ruby exhaled. The wagon kept sliding, though.

  “Jump down,” Duncan said to Ruby, his voice still calm.

  She slid to the edge of the bench and then leapt, landing in the soft snow on the road, just as the wagon, back first, slid into the ditch. The horses, wild-eyed and stamping their hooves, stayed on the road. Ruby rushed toward them and grabbed Gunnar’s harness.

  “Careful.” Duncan had managed to stay on the bench. Zachary raised his head again and sat up straight, wrapped a blanket around himself, and climbed to the road side of the wagon. It tipped forward with his weight, bringing the rear wheels out of the ditch, suspended in the air.

  “Pull the horses,” Zachary said, his voice not quite as calm as Duncan’s.

  Ruby complied as Duncan snapped the reins. Gustaf sidestepped but then followed Gunnar’s lead. Slowly the wagon inched forward and the back wheels landed on the ground. Ruby didn’t stop until the wagon was in the middle of the road. Without saying anything, Zachary climbed back under the pile of blankets.

  “I’ll keep leading them,” Ruby said.

  Duncan nodded, a pained look on his face.

  Ruby continued on, talking softly to the horses as she walked and silently thankin
g God. The moon rose higher, over the bank of clouds, and a few stars began to shine. They’d averted a tragedy. If the wagon had slid a little farther, both Zachary and Duncan could have been injured, along with the horses.

  An hour later, they passed the Wallis farm, where lamps burned in each of the two windows, and then turned toward the Bachmann barn.

  “We’ll get Zachary inside,” Duncan said, “and then unhitch the horses.”

  As they helped Zachary through the door, Ruby’s heart throbbed as the loss of Mamm hit her again. The house was dark and cold, as if it no longer had a soul.

  They helped Zachary into a chair.

  “I’ll build a fire,” Ruby said, “and then meet you in the barn.”

  Duncan shuffled back out the front door, and then she heard the horses’ neigh and the wagon roll forward.

  By the time she reached the barn, Duncan had the horses in their stalls. Ruby hauled water from the spring to the trough while Duncan brushed them and then fed them. Next she checked on the calf in the back of the barn, where Old Man Wallis must have managed to move him when the snow started.

  When Duncan finished, Ruby thanked him. “You made getting Zachary possible,” she said. “I can’t express my gratitude to you. You’ve been more than a good neighbor—you’ve been a dear friend.”

  Duncan nodded but didn’t say anything.

  They walked together to the barn door, and then he started toward the Wallis home, while Ruby trudged back through the snow to the back door, missing her Mamm again. But she had Zachary.

  He was still wrapped in the blanket, sitting by the fire.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Better, now that I’m home.”

  As she examined his arm in the dim light, he said, “I see you were able to accept Duncan’s help after all.”

  “Jah,” she said. “I couldn’t have gotten through the last months without him. He helped me harvest the corn, butcher the hog, do the chores. . . .” She swiped at a stray tear. “He helped bury Mamm.” She raised her head. “And I never would have been able to retrieve you by myself.”