A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  In less than ten minutes, I pulled in front of the Stoltz house and climbed out of my car. The brisk spring breeze stung my cheeks as I looked around. After detecting no sign of activity in the open shed, I started toward the house.

  Mildred Stoltz opened the door for me. She again wore a scarf over her bald head. After greeting her, I told her I wanted to speak with John.

  “He’s out in the barn with the new fellow.”

  “Oh?”

  “Jah, John hired a farmhand.”

  My heart raced. I’d only told Silas about the possibility yesterday. “What’s the new farmhand’s name?” I asked.

  “It starts with an S,” Mildred said. “Simon, maybe?” She shrugged.

  “Silas?” I asked.

  “Perhaps.” She shrugged. “Go on out. John will be happy to see you.”

  As I entered the barn, I called out a hello. When no one answered, I walked on through it and out to the field. In the distance, John stood with a younger man at the fence line. I headed toward them. Halfway across the field, I could confirm the young man was Silas. He’d certainly acted quickly on my tip, and it was crystal clear he really was done working on our farm.

  For a moment, I considered leaving. Seeing Silas hurt. It hurt me over and over and over. Why inflict more discomfort on myself right before I returned to Harrisburg? But if I didn’t speak with John in person, I’d have to leave a message on his answering machine. And then he’d need to call me back. That could go on for days. It would be much better if I arrived in the office in the morning with a positive report for Tom.

  I called out a hello and waved. Both men turned toward me and then John waved back.

  Pasting a smile on my face, I trudged forward, determined to be as cordial as possible.

  “Hello, John!” I said as I reached him.

  He greeted me and turned toward Silas. “It seems you two already know each other.”

  “Jah,” I answered. “We’re old friends.”

  Silas gave me a nod, his hazel eyes sad. I quickly redirected my attention to John. “May I speak with you?” I asked.

  “Certainly,” he answered.

  Silas said to John, “I’ll go finish up in the barn. Denki for the explanation here.”

  John nodded. “Denki for your input. I appreciate it.”

  “I stopped by the house and said hello to Mildred.”

  “Gut,” John replied. “She’s doing well today. We’re thankful for that. And at least now, on the bad days, Silas will be here.”

  Perhaps letting Silas know about the job was the right thing to do. Silas was a fatherless young man, and John and Mildred were a childless couple. I could see how the arrangement might benefit them in many ways.

  I asked John if he’d had a chance to think about sharing his story. “Well,” he said, “I was going to tell you no, but then I discussed it with Silas and he encouraged me to think about some other aspects.”

  “Oh?”

  “Jah, he said what you did. That I might be helping others, both Amish and Englisch. That it’s information everyone should have. He told me that water safety is one of the most important issues—other than spiritual ones—that we have. It’s no coincidence that Jesus used water to explain His plan for us, using terms like wells of salvation, living water, and water of life. Clean water is essential to our physical survival—just as Christ is to our spiritual survival.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “So, jah,” he said. “I’ll speak with this Tom fellow. I’ll tell him our story—that’s all. But I won’t allow any photos.”

  “How about photos of your land?” I asked. “But not you or Mildred.”

  He paused for a moment but then said, “All right. I guess we can allow that.”

  “Denki.” I wanted to hug the man, but I knew he wouldn’t have been receptive to that.

  He nodded shyly. “Denki for sending Silas out to me. I’m grateful to have a hard worker to help me. I knew his father—he was a good man too.”

  “I’m so glad it worked out,” I said. I told him that Tom would come out by the end of the week to interview him and then said farewell. I headed back, walking around the barn instead of through it, but when I reached my car Silas was waiting for me.

  “Jessie,” he said. “Could we talk for a moment?”

  I nodded, afraid that if I spoke the growing lump in my throat might dislodge.

  “When are you going back?”

  “This afternoon,” I managed to say.

  He stepped toward me. “May I ask you something?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you love Tom?”

  I inhaled sharply. I tried to answer, but I couldn’t find the word. Instead I nodded my head.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave it alone.” I thought about when I’d begged him to leave with me before, and he asked me to stay and work things out. When I wouldn’t, he’d said the same thing. “I’ll leave it alone.”

  I hated it when he said that. I always had. How many times had I wanted him to push? To pry? To react? And he’d simply left it alone.

  “I’ve got to go,” I stammered, climbing into my car.

  He stepped back as I started the engine, his hat in his hand. Tears clouded my vision as I put the car in Reverse. Once I turned around, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Silas stood still as a statue, watching me go—once again.

  By the time I returned to our farm, I’d managed to compose myself. I quickly sent Tom a text, telling him John Stoltz had agreed to be interviewed, and gave him the man’s phone number. Then I added that I would be home that evening and would give him all of the details at work the next day. I ended the text with: I miss you! Can’t wait to be back to normal life.

  Then I headed straight to Aenti Suz’s Dawdi Haus, hoping she had a sticky bun or cinnamon roll I could eat—but mostly that she would have time to tell me the rest of Ruby’s story. I needed to know what happened all those years ago. Aenti Suz had left Ruby sitting in the buggy with Duncan holding on to her hand, as Paul called out to her. Choosing Paul would mean losing Duncan and leaving her farm. Choosing Duncan would mean leaving her family, faith, and land.

  We had that one thing in common. Ruby had to leave the Bachmann property no matter what, just as I did. Land for a daughter was something completely different than for the one son from each generation who would inherit the farm.

  I knocked quickly and then opened the door to the comforting scent of cinnamon and the sweet smell of icing.

  Aenti Suz stood at her oven, smiling at me. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. “Are you ready for the last of the story?”

  “Jah,” I answered, thinking of Ruby facing Paul as Duncan held her hand.

  19

  Ruby

  Pulling her hand away from Duncan, Ruby stared at Paul for a long moment.

  “Zachary said you’d been to Philadelphia.” Paul stepped toward the buggy.

  Ruby stood, and Duncan quickly did too, stepping down. He started around to help Ruby, but Paul extended his hand. Instead, Duncan helped his sister.

  Ruby quickly introduced the two to Paul and then said, “Duncan took Zachary’s place to keep him from having to go back into the army.”

  Paul nodded at Duncan and said, “It’s unfortunate Zachary ever got himself mixed up in such a thing, but I appreciate you helping him.” Then Paul turned toward Ruby. “Hans wants me to help sell the farm immediately, and then all of us will travel to Canada.”

  “Oh, surely not so soon,” Isabelle said. “Can’t it wait? Until summer at least?”

  Ruby wanted to laugh. There was so little Isabelle understood. But she couldn’t help but find some consolation in how oblivious the girl was. Even though her family had suffered, too, Isabelle remained optimistic. Life continued to be one long adventure for her. Ruby turned toward Isabelle. “We’ll have some time yet. A few weeks at least.” She couldn’t imagine Zachary and Paul would find a buyer right away.

 
She turned toward Duncan, aware of how stilted her voice sounded as she spoke. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done for us.”

  He nodded as a complicated expression passed across his face. Perhaps a bit of anger, but also sorrow. Her stomach dropped.

  He turned and grabbed his bag from the buggy and directed Isabelle to do the same. Then he paid the farmer and said, “We’ll walk to our place from here.”

  Isabelle hugged Ruby and said, “I’ll be down tomorrow for my next lesson.”

  Ruby hugged her back. “I’ll be expecting you.” Then Isabelle caught up to Duncan and walked beside him, chatting away. Bless the girl. Ruby really did find her endearing.

  After thanking the farmer, Ruby collected her bag, too, and then turned toward the house. Paul stepped to her side. “I worried about you being gone like that, with strangers.”

  Ruby started walking. “They’re not strangers.”

  “They’re not friends,” Paul countered.

  Ruby shrugged, trying to appear as if his words didn’t matter, but they did. They were her friends, but she wasn’t going to admit it to Paul.

  “Zachary was vague about how he returned home. Tell me what happened.”

  They reached the porch. Ruby took the steps quickly, and then opened the front door. “How about some supper?” she asked. “I’m guessing there must be some sort of food available.”

  “We had ham last night. There’s some left.”

  “Gut,” she said. “I’ll see what else there is.”

  “Ruby . . .”

  She kept moving toward the back of the house.

  “What are you hiding?” It was quite a forthright question for Paul.

  “Nothing.” She kept walking. “Go tell Zachary we’ll eat soon.” After she placed her bag in the back bedroom, she found the ham and several potatoes in the cupboard, but all of the bread was gone. She’d make more in the morning.

  She sliced the ham and the potatoes, and then fried both in the pan over the fire. By the time she was done, Paul returned with Zachary and a pail of milk for her to separate. She dished the food onto plates and then they all sat at the table.

  After Paul led them in prayer, he said he wanted to know the entire story of Zachary’s rescue. Ruby glanced at her brother, hoping he’d do the explaining. He shrugged and looked down at his plate.

  “Zachary wrote that he was ill and wounded.” She went on to explain that she’d gone to Valley Forge and brought him home.

  “I understand that,” Paul said, “but how did you get there?”

  “The wagon.” Ruby sighed. There was no getting around the truth. “Duncan went with me.”

  “You traveled unaccompanied with a man you don’t know?”

  “I do know him,” Ruby responded. “We worked together for four months to keep our two farms running. He offered to go alone to get Zachary, but I insisted on going with him.”

  Paul took another bite and asked, “Why?”

  “Because Duncan was injured in the war. He’d been walking with a crutch but had just started using a cane. If there was a problem with the horses or the wagon, he might not have been able to manage alone.”

  “So he’s a soldier then too?”

  “Was.”

  Paul remained silent as he continued eating. Ruby concentrated on her food, but she didn’t have much of an appetite as shame seeped through her, and then flowed into her soul. Justifying her actions to Paul felt humiliating. Jah, none of it looked good, but she’d had no other choice.

  Finally he said, “So why did you need to leave again?”

  She explained about Captain McLeod coming to take Zachary back to Valley Forge. “Like I said, Duncan took his place.”

  Paul wrinkled his nose. “I remember you said that, I just find it surprising.”

  Ruby agreed. “So did I—but once he did, we couldn’t just leave him there.”

  “Why not? He’s a soldier.”

  “Was. And an injured one at that. Plus the place is rife with disease, and there isn’t enough food or other supplies.” She explained that it seemed his father made the payment for Duncan to leave, although Duncan didn’t seem to know exactly what happened.

  “I’ll pay the Wallis family back,” Zachary said. “I promise I will.”

  “You can try, but they don’t expect you to,” Ruby explained, “although I agree with you that you should.”

  Paul swallowed his last bite. “So they’re wealthy then?”

  Ruby nodded. “Jah, but not as wealthy as they were. The British have confiscated their home in Philadelphia and are using it as a headquarters.”

  A look of satisfaction settled on Paul’s face.

  Ruby frowned. “They’re good people. I don’t know what I would have done without Duncan’s help. The farm would be in disarray. Mamm’s final days would have been much harder. Zachary would probably have died. I owe a debt of gratitude to the entire Wallis family.”

  “Of course,” Paul said. “It’s just that none of this seems in keeping with our way of life.”

  “No, it doesn’t, does it?” Ruby stood. “I wrote to you and Hans and told you I needed help. You knew Mamm was ill. You knew Zachary had been conscripted. When neither of you came, I had to do the best I could. I had no choice.”

  She picked up her plate.

  Neither Paul nor Zachary said a word. She put her plate in the bucket and headed out the back door. She had longed for Paul to come get her, but now she no longer did. Not at all. She agreed with Isabelle. Why couldn’t he have waited until summer?

  She found herself at the fence line, gazing at the oak tree on the Wallis property, missing Duncan. If only she could talk with him now. If only she could freely share how she felt.

  That night a light dusting of late-February snow fell, but not enough to keep Zachary and Paul from riding over to the minister’s farm the next morning. Ruby stayed to make bread with flour Paul had brought from Canada, and to give the cabin a good cleaning. Late in the morning, a knock fell on the front door. Ruby hurried to open it, finding Isabelle on her stoop.

  “Come in,” she said, glad to see her friend. But she couldn’t ignore the fact she wished Duncan was with her.

  “How are you?” she asked Isabelle as she motioned her into the kitchen.

  “Just fine,” Isabelle said, following Ruby to the kitchen. “But things are pretty grim over at Uncle Wallis’s house.”

  “Why?” Ruby asked as she turned her attention back to her bread making.

  Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be daft—not you.”

  Ruby shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s not what—it’s whom.”

  Ruby bent over her dough and began to knead it, digging her hands into the sticky mess.

  Isabelle flung herself onto the stool by the fire. “Duncan’s been pining over you ever since—”

  “Stop,” Ruby gasped, surprising herself and Isabelle both. She stood up straight and pulled her hands from the dough. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Isabelle took a deep breath.

  Tears stung Ruby’s eyes. “Please don’t say any more.”

  “Why?” Isabelle stood and put her arm around Ruby.

  “Because . . .” She’d burst into tears if she said another word.

  Isabelle pulled her closer. “Because why?”

  Ruby knew she couldn’t answer that—she needed to take care with what she said. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then said, “Let me finish kneading this. After it rises, you can shape the loaves.”

  “You’re not going to answer me?”

  Ruby ignored her again. “We’ll get four out of this batch. You can take two with you.”

  Isabelle sighed. “Please answer me.”

  “I can’t.” Ruby pulled away from her friend. “I’m sorry.” She dug her hands back into the dough.

  She guessed that Paul believed she’d grown too close to the Engl
ischers, that she’d been influenced by their fancy ways. But that wasn’t what had happened at all. She’d been influenced by their care. And Duncan’s sacrifice.

  Jah, and their love. They were different from her Plain community—oh, so different—but in many ways they were the same too. Helping your neighbors, loving your family, honoring the Lord. All of those things were important to them too.

  She finished kneading the dough and then scooped it into the greased bowl, placing it on the table close to the fire. She put Isabelle to work sweeping the entire cabin, while Ruby started the water to boil for the laundry.

  An hour later, Isabelle shaped the loaves. Later, Ruby took them out to the oven in the backyard, following her footsteps in the snow from when she’d done the chores earlier. She slipped them inside, over the fire, welcoming the blast of heat against her arms and face. Then she gazed over to the Wallis property.

  It was a mistake. Duncan stood under the oak tree, looking her way. He waved and started toward the fence. “Ruby!” he called out.

  She waved but turned away from him, hurrying toward the house.

  “Wait,” he called out.

  She kept going.

  Isabelle met her at the door. “Go talk to him.”

  “I can’t,” Ruby answered, remembering her wish from the night before. But the truth was, she’d never talk to Duncan again. She couldn’t trust herself. She hadn’t been wrong to help him and accept his help. She hadn’t been wrong to go to Valley Forge with him. Or to Philadelphia with Isabelle. But she had been wrong to let herself have feelings for him.

  As she brushed past Isabelle and into the house, she heard the hooves of horses. Paul and Zachary were back.

  A moment later, Zachary called out a hello to Duncan, but she couldn’t make out any more of a conversation. Later, when her brother and Paul came into the house, it seemed Paul wasn’t happy to see Isabelle, but he didn’t say anything. However, he did stay in the cabin, perhaps to monitor their conversation. When the bread was done, Ruby wrapped two loaves in a cloth and sent them home with Isabelle.

  Paul sighed as Ruby closed the door. “I didn’t think she’d ever leave.” He stood. “I’ll go out and work until it’s time for dinner.”