Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “I know. I’ll be right in after I’ve let the ponies out.”

  Phoebe retreated and closed the barn door behind her. She hurried across the lawn and had bacon sputtering in a pan by the time David arrived.

  He seated himself at the kitchen table with a nervous smile. “Have you heard that Mary’s home from the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “I was wondering about her.”

  “Ruth said the concussion only needed observation for one night. The cut took nine stitches, though. That must have been some blow from the bat.”

  Phoebe made a face. “You know eighth-grade boys. They don’t always know how to manage their newfound strength.”

  He grinned. “That was a long time ago, but yah, you are right. Charles is so sorry for what happened. I guess he’ll be more careful from now on about who stands behind him when he’s batting at home plate.”

  “How’s Ruth doing?” She turned back to the frying bacon.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  Should she ask if the Friday night date was still on?

  “Ruth is still going out with Ethan,” he said, as if reading her mind.

  “We must pray,” Phoebe told him. What else was there to say? A discussion about something they couldn’t control would only sink their spirits. She gave him a warm smile. “Do you have any suggestions as to what we should do today?”

  “Not really,” he said. He studied the tabletop. “The horse stalls could be mucked out…”

  “We should go help someone,” she suggested. “That would get our minds off our troubles.”

  “I suppose so. But who?”

  “I could visit Mary and help Fannie around the house for the rest of the day. There should be plenty of work with a sick child on her hands. And you…” She stopped when his eyes grew round. “David, you can ride with me in the buggy. Deacon Matthew is sure to have work that needs doing. All his boys are young yet.”

  “You want to spend the day at Deacon Matthew’s with me?”

  “What? Am I such a bore?”

  He grinned in spite of himself. “You know what I mean.”

  “This would be goot for both of us, and Deacon Matthew could see us together. He knows you work on the farm.”

  “You’re trying to get him used to the idea of us,” he said. “A Fisher and a Lapp?”

  “I don’t mean it like that,” she protested. She cracked open the first egg. “How many?”

  “Two, please.” He looked thoughtful. “I don’t think this is a wise idea. Suppose your uncle spoke with the deacon about his disapproval. You’ll be seen as manipulating church opinion.”

  Phoebe laughed. “Me? Come on.”

  David joined in. “I guess that is a stretch.”

  “It’ll be okay,” she encouraged him. “Let’s go. We should get away from the farm while we have the chance. Remember? Next week!”

  “Do you think things will get worse? Are you prophesying?”

  Phoebe laughed. “Let’s think positively.” She turned the eggs over. “The Lord will be with us.”

  The struggle was evident on his face, but he finally smiled. “Yah, let’s go. I would enjoy that—mostly spending the day with you.”

  “Come now,” she teased. “I’ll be in the house, and you’ll be in the fields with Deacon Matthew.”

  His smile didn’t fade. “Are you eating with me?”

  She set the plate in front of him. “I’ll have a little oatmeal.” She brought the pot over from the stove, and the steam drifted across the table. “I ate earlier.”

  They bowed their heads and finished their food in silence. There was much she wanted to ask, to talk about. What would happen if Ruth continued to pursue Ethan? Would Uncle Homer’s fear about Phoebe’s interest in David subside or grow worse? Would next week’s children bring fresh worries or further joy? But these were questions for which there were no answers.

  David’s smile was weak when she caught his gaze. “What’s Deacon Matthew going to say when we drive in together?”

  She shrugged. “We’ll explain that we’re having an off week. He’ll be glad for the help after Mary’s injury.”

  From the look on his face, David wasn’t convinced—but he didn’t object. “That was a goot breakfast,” he finally said.

  Phoebe pushed aside her bowl. “I’ll take care of the dishes if you’ll hitch Misty to the buggy.”

  He nodded, and they bowed their heads for a brief prayer of thanks. She reached over to touch his hand. “It’ll be a goot day, David. Thanks for coming with me.”

  He stood. “I’ll have Misty ready in a few minutes.”

  She gave him another smile when he glanced over his shoulder from the mudroom door. A look of joy filled his face for a moment before the shadows drove the light away again. “I’ll be right out,” she called after him.

  The back door slammed, and Phoebe cleared the table. As she washed the last dish, she caught a glimpse of David at the barn door with his hand on Misty’s bridle. With the towel draped over the drying rack, Phoebe left the kitchen and hurried across the front lawn. David was ready, the reins clutched in his hands. She hopped up, and they pulled out of the driveway.

  “Old Misty’s perky this morning,” Phoebe commented.

  David grinned and didn’t answer.

  “She likes you,” Phoebe added.

  “She’s become used to me,” he allowed. “I’ve been around for a while now.”

  “Were you working for Grandma before I arrived from Lancaster? I can’t remember.”

  His smile was gentle. “I’ve always worked for her, even during my school years. She had a kind heart.”

  “That she did,” Phoebe agreed as the buggy climbed higher up the grade on Highway 170. At the junction of 29, they turned left and pulled into Deacon Matthew’s driveway moments later. The beauty of the countryside from the high plateau still took her breath away. She was enraptured with the sight when David pulled up to the barn.

  “It’s so beautiful up here,” she whispered.

  “Yah, it is—oh, and here’s Deacon Matthew.”

  Phoebe pulled her attention away from the mountains to call out, “Goot morning, Deacon.” She climbed down from the buggy.

  His smile was broad. “To what do we owe this visit on such a fine morning?”

  Phoebe returned his smile. “How is Mary?”

  “We’re keeping her in bed, but that’s becoming harder each passing moment.” He grinned. “The girl was determined to go to school this morning.”

  “That’s goot news,” David said.

  “How is your sister doing at school?”

  “She enjoys the job,” David managed. He dropped his gaze to the ground.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Deacon Matthew replied. “Did Ruth take the shock of the accident well?”

  “She keeps most of her feelings inside, but she’s coping.”

  “Some people are that way,” Deacon Matthew said, nodding. “I hope she talks with someone. Bottling things up isn’t goot.”

  Phoebe tried to keep her smile firm. If Deacon Matthew really knew what his schoolteacher was up to…She pushed the thought out of her mind. The Lord would provide somehow, and Ruth would make the proper choice.

  “Well.” Phoebe forced cheerfulness into her voice. “We’ve come to help for the day. This week is our downtime on the farm because no children came to visit. Next week will be hectic again, I’m sure, but we are yours for the time being.”

  “This is wunderbah.” Deacon Matthew clasped his hands. “I see the Lord does provide.”

  “He always does,” Phoebe agreed. “I learned that lesson from Grandma.”

  “A godly woman indeed,” Deacon Matthew responded. “So let’s get this horse unharnessed and begin our day.”

  “I’m sure you two can handle that,” Phoebe told them over her shoulder. She was already on her way up the walk when horse’s hooves beat in the distance, and a buggy appeared to turn in the driveway. Aunt Millie�
��s face was clearly visible through the windshield, and she appeared quite troubled.

  Phoebe turned back and was standing by the buggy’s wheel when Aunt Millie pulled to a stop. “Is something wrong?”

  Aunt Millie’s lips were pressed tightly together as she took in David and Deacon Matthew. “Why are you here, Phoebe? And with him?”

  “Aunt Millie, I…” But what was the use? Her aunt’s attention was clearly elsewhere. “What is wrong?” Phoebe repeated.

  “Homer’s Eugene was gone this morning when the family awoke,” Aunt Millie said through clenched teeth. “But I’m still asking, Phoebe. Why is David here? I don’t…”

  Aunt Millie stopped speaking when she saw David and Deacon Matthew hurrying over, the deacon’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Is there a problem, Millie? You drove in the lane quite fast. Or am I to get more help for the day?” He attempted a laugh.

  “We think Homer’s Eugene ran away last night, and Homer’s out looking for him with the sheriff.” Aunt Millie divulged the information with a shiver through her whole body.

  “But the boy’s only sixteen!” Deacon Matthew exclaimed. “He’s barely begun his rumspringa. And what did you say? The—”

  “Yah, the sheriff,” Aunt Millie repeated. “Their neighbor’s truck was s-s-stolen.” Her voice gave out, and tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Lord, help us,” Deacon Matthew prayed out loud. “I can’t believe this. Homer Lapp’s child?”

  Aunt Millie found her voice again. “I know. This shames us all, and to have the sheriff involved!” Aunt Millie’s voice rose to a wail. “One of the men would have come over to tell you, but they are all busy with the search, and we felt you should know.”

  “Of course,” Deacon Matthew agreed. “Has Bishop Rufus been told?”

  Aunt Millie shook her head. “You were the closest, but I must go there next, although my heart nearly fails me with the task.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Phoebe decided on the spot. “I’ll come back later to visit with Mary, and David can stay here for the day as we planned.” David cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. “Is that okay with you?” she asked him.

  “I would be glad to,” he said, and she gave him a grateful smile before hopping up into the buggy. Aunt Millie shook the reins, and they hurtled out the driveway.

  “My thoughts and prayers are with you and the rest of the family!” Deacon Matthew called after them.

  Phoebe hung on to the buggy seat. “Why are you driving so fast?”

  “I don’t know.” Holding the reins with one hand, Aunt Millie wiped away her tears. “This is such an awful tragedy. I guess I’ve lost my senses. Who would have thought that Homer’s oldest would so quickly jump the fence into that awful world?”

  “I know,” Phoebe comforted her. “But perhaps Eugene will see his mistake and something can still be done.”

  “But stealing a truck!” Aunt Millie’s voice was a wail again. “How will our family live down such a wicked act by one of our young people? We’ll—” Aunt Millie gave up and clutched the reins as they raced through a stop sign. Thankfully, there was no cross traffic.

  “Aunt Millie, you had better slow down,” Phoebe warned.

  Her aunt nodded and pulled back on the reins. The bishop’s driveway appeared in front of them, and Aunt Millie whimpered, “How am I going to find the strength for this? Why didn’t Homer come himself to confess the family’s sins?”

  “We’ll do it together,” Phoebe told her. “I’m with you.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The following morning, Phoebe responded to a knock on the front door and found David on the porch.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. There had been little time for conversation since their abrupt separation the day before.

  She attempted a smile. “It’s been a rough week to say the least, and this was supposed to be our time to rest up.”

  David joined in with a halfhearted chuckle. “When did you get back yesterday? I had to leave Deacon Matthew’s place at chore time, and then I puttered around here until almost dark.”

  “Aunt Millie dropped me off after a late supper. Sorry I missed you.”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. “It was nice of you to stay with your aunt during this time. How’s the family taking it?”

  “It’s rough, as can be expected. Eugene is sitting in the jail in Little Falls.” Phoebe shuddered at the thought. “Who would have expected things would come to this?”

  “How long will he be there?”

  “Uncle Homer’s paying the bail today. That was one reason for the lateness last night. The whole family was at Uncle Homer’s talking about the situation. After Deacon Matthew and Bishop Rufus were consulted, they decided it might be best if Eugene wasn’t left in prison.” Phoebe shuddered again. “Can you imagine what that must be like, even if the boy stole a truck? Too much of a bad thing can’t be goot.”

  “I’m sure he learned his lesson. Paying the bail is the right decision.”

  “Homer’s a strict parent. He wants to make the right choice.” Phoebe held onto the front door. “Have you had breakfast?”

  He nodded.

  “Would you hitch Misty to the buggy for me, please? Now that you’re here.” She reached out to touch his arm. “I need to finish my visit from yesterday.”

  “You know I will,” he said. He turned to leave.

  “Thanks!” she called after him.

  He gave a little wave over his shoulder before disappearing through the barn door. She rushed about the house and put away the last of the breakfast dishes. David had Misty ready when she came down the porch steps. She hurried up to the buggy and climbed in, and he handed her the reins.

  “Thanks again for hitching Misty to the buggy for me,” she told him. “I’ll be back this afternoon sometime.”

  “I’ll be here,” he called after her as she trotted the horse out of the lane and up the incline toward Highway 29 and Deacon Matthew’s farm. Mary would be recovered by this time, but Phoebe should still visit. Fannie had understood the interruption yesterday and would express nothing but encouragement for the beleaguered Lapp family.

  Phoebe turned left at the stop sign, and Misty settled into a steady trot. She took a moment to observe the wunderbah view again. Cousin Eugene might make dumb life choices, but the Lord’s handiwork still stirred joy inside of her.

  “Whoa, there,” Phoebe called out to Misty as she turned in the driveway. When they pulled up to the barn, the door swung open at once.

  Deacon Matthew hurried out. “Goot morning, Phoebe. You’re back.”

  “Yah,” she responded. She hopped down from the buggy. “My visit yesterday was interrupted so abruptly. I wanted to come back today for a little bit at least.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. How’s the family and Eugene?”

  “Taking it hard, as you can guess. They’re embarrassed.” Phoebe made a face. “Thanks for the advice yesterday. I think leaving the boy in jail until his trial would only have made things worse.”

  Deacon Matthew bowed his head. “Those are difficult decisions for parents to make, but kindness goes a long way sometimes after a tragedy.”

  “Thanks again.” Phoebe started to unfasten the tug on her side.

  Deacon Matthew waved her away. “I’ll take care of your horse. Go on in for a chat with Fannie. She’ll be glad you came.”

  “How is Mary?”

  Deacon Matthew laughed. “I should have let her go to school this morning. The poor girl is beside herself, but I’m a little on the cautious side.”

  “Then I’ll get to see her.” Phoebe turned to head up the walk.

  Fannie met her at the front door with a big smile. “You’re back. So goot to see you, Phoebe.”

  The two embraced, and Phoebe was ushered inside.

  Mary was lying on the living room couch with a pout on her face. “I’m all better, and I want to go to school.”

  “You can go on Monday,”
Fannie told her. “Another day of rest won’t hurt you in the least.”

  Phoebe sat on the couch beside the pouting girl. “So what happened when that big bat hit you on the head?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary wrinkled up her face. “One moment I was watching the ball game, and the next it was all dark.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Phoebe gently ran her hand over Mary’s forehead. The bandage was on the left side above the hairline. “At least no one will see your scar unless they are looking for it.”

  “I guess so,” Mary said, without much enthusiasm.

  Phoebe couldn’t hold back a smile. “Those things don’t mean much to you yet, but they will.”

  “With or without scars, Mary’s going to marry whom the Lord has planned as her husband!” Fannie declared from the kitchen opening.

  “I won’t argue with that,” Phoebe responded. She gave Mary a quick kiss just below the bandage. The girl grimaced, and Phoebe left her to enter the kitchen.

  “So how are the Lapps doing? I didn’t want to say anything with Mary in earshot.”

  “Troubled and disturbed and trying to make the right choices. Uncle Homer is paying the bail today, so Eugene should be home by this evening.”

  Fannie clucked her tongue. “Parenting is a hard road. Like keeping Mary home from school today. The poor thing. She’s suffering.”

  “Parents do what they think is best,” Phoebe replied. “I’m not a parent, but next week we get several more children. I pray I can be a blessing to them and make the best choices during the short time they are at the farm.”

  “How are things going at the farm?” Fannie poured two cups of hot water and set one of them in front of Phoebe. “Sit. We can chat for a little bit at least.”

  Phoebe added cocoa and stirred slowly as Fannie did likewise. “Adventurous, I guess. The children pull at my heartstrings.”

  Fannie nodded. “A sure sign the Lord is with you. We can’t change what we don’t love.”

  “That sounds like something Grandma would have said.”

  Fannie smiled. “Then I am honored. Grandma Lapp was a godly woman.”