The kitchen door burst open, interrupting them. “Carrie, it’s set up!” Andy shouted.
Carrie threw the dish towel at Emma and hurried outside to join Andy in a game of horseshoes before the sun set.
Watering the vegetable garden, Mattie Zook heard Andy and Carrie’s voices in their yard. She dropped the watering can and ran down the hill to see her friend. Now that Carrie was working at the Central Market, Mattie hardly saw her anymore. What little free time Carrie did have lately was taken up by Sol Riehl.
All of the boys were crazy about Carrie, but she acted as if she didn’t notice or didn’t care. Sol was the only one who had ever caught her interest. Mattie could see why Carrie was so sought after. Sometimes Mattie thought she looked like an angel. Big blue eyes fringed with thick black lashes, skin the color of cream in summer, a dimple in each cheek that framed a bow-shaped mouth. And her hair! Good thing the boys couldn’t see her hair too, Mattie thought. Thick, honey blond curls that cascaded down her back. But Carrie was more than just pretty, she was smart and kind, and had a little bit of mystery to her, as if she always had something else on her mind. The boys had to work hard to get her attention. Whenever Mattie told her that, Carrie would laugh and say she was just imagining things. Mattie loved Carrie’s laugh. It reminded Mattie of the church bells she heard ringing whenever she was in town.
As Mattie reached Esther’s rosebushes that bordered the property, she slowed to avoid thorns. She and Carrie had beaten a path through those bushes the very first summer Carrie’s dad had married Esther and moved to her farm. The path had made Esther furious, which secretly delighted the girls.
Carrie waved to Mattie to join them. “I bet I know why you’re here, Mattie!” she called out, laughing. “But Daniel isn’t here. He and Dad took Eli to the bus stop.”
As Mattie broke into a run to join Carrie and Andy, she won-ebook- dered why Carrie would assume she was interested in the Weavers’ houseguest. Like most of the girls, she had noticed Daniel Miller at the Sunday Singing. And he was handsome, she couldn’t deny.
But Mattie’s heart belonged to one man: Solomon Riehl. She had loved Sol for as long as she remembered. Long before Carrie had even met him.
Mattie would never reveal those feelings, though. She loved Carrie too much. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but she trusted that God had given her this love for Sol. And she knew God was trustworthy.
Near midnight, Carrie quietly tiptoed downstairs, jumping carefully over the squeaky third step because Esther had ears like a hawk. She slipped out the kitchen door and glided into a run as soon as she turned onto the road. When she reached the phone shanty, she jerked the door open and stared at the phone impatiently, willing it to ring.
While she waited, drumming her fingers, her thoughts drifted to the talk she’d had with Mattie tonight. She nearly confided to Mattie about the plans to leave with Sol, but she held her tongue. It wouldn’t have been right to have Mattie keep such a secret. The truth, she realized, was that she didn’t think Mattie would understand. There was something about Mattie that seemed . . . pure. Holy, almost. Like those orchids sold at Central Market. Once the Orchid Lady had told Carrie that she kept the orchids in the greenhouse because they were so delicate. That’s what Mattie seemed like. Too delicate for Carrie to share her tangled thoughts.
The phone rang, startling her out of her muse. She lunged for the receiver and smiled as she heard Sol’s deep voice.
“Did anyone ask where you were this afternoon?” Sol asked.
“No,” Carrie said, still smiling. “Dad and Eli were so excited about purchasing the orchards that it was all anyone was talking about.”
“Surprised me to see Andy with you. Think that was wise?”
“Aw, it was a birthday present for him. He won’t tell.” Carrie was quiet for a moment. “I won’t be here for his actual birthday.” Her heart caught for a moment.
Sol didn’t seem to notice the quiver in her voice. “So we’ll tell our folks Sunday afternoon, just like we talked about. On Monday, I’ll be on the team bus to Long Island, but you can follow on a Greyhound as soon as you can. I thought we could get married in New York, the day you arrive. How does that sound?”
Carrie didn’t answer right away. She glanced back at the big white farmhouse. The moonlight shone behind it, casting a bluish hue over it. The night was so quiet and peaceful; the house and the barn filled with sleeping people and animals. An owl hooted once, then twice.
Her eyes caught on a shadowy figure and she gasped. Daniel Miller was sitting on the fence across from the phone shanty, watching her.
“Carrie?” Sol asked, his voice tight.
She pulled her attention back to the phone. “Daniel’s here.”
“That fellow who’s staying at your house? What does he want?”
“I have no idea.”
Sol snorted. “I have a pretty good idea. He stuck to you like flypaper at last Sunday’s singing.”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Sol, he didn’t know anybody else.”
“He knew Emma and he didn’t get anywhere near her.”
Carrie smiled. Sol had a jealous streak. She shouldn’t be pleased, but she couldn’t help it. “Maybe I should find out what he wants.”
“Carrie, you haven’t answered my question. Have you changed your mind?”
She turned away from Daniel’s gaze. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Ich liebe dich,” he said. I love you.
A blush warmed her face. She’d never said the words before, because it was not the Plain way. But Sol said the words often. He admired how the English expressed themselves openly. “Ich auch,” she whispered. Me too.
“So tell Daniel Miller to find another girl.”
Carrie waited until she heard the click of Sol hanging up before she put the receiver back in the cradle. She turned slowly and opened the door to the phone shanty.
“Evening.” Daniel’s low voice came as a shock in the whispering stillness of the night.
“I guess I didn’t see you on the way here.” She pulled the collar of her nightgown close around her neck. “Why are you up so late?”
He shrugged. “Too hot to sleep.” He crossed his arms. “You?” She glanced back at the phone shanty. “Business call. For Central Market. They get up early.”
“My, my. That is early,” Daniel said, sounding amused.
She stared at him and he stared back. Then her cheeks started to burn as if she’d been standing too close to a stove. She dropped her eyes and spun around to leave. “Well, goodnight.”
“Wonder what Esther might say about you having a midnight phone call.”
Carrie froze. She did not want Esther to know she was out in the night, on the phone. Once Esther locked on to something, she wouldn’t let go until it thundered. For the first time, she thought that Daniel Miller might just have a thought or two in his quiet head. She pivoted around to face him. “Do you plan to tell her?”
He gave a short laugh. “She reminds me of a bear that treed me once. Not sure I want to be on the wrong side of that woman.” Daniel took a few strides and passed by Carrie. “You got more business calls to make?”
In the moonlight, Daniel looked less stern and tense, a little gentler. She decided that Emma was right, he was a looker. He used more words tonight than he had all week.
“Wait up. I’m coming,” she said, matching his stride.
When the van dropped Carrie and Emma off from work the next day, Daniel and Andy were waiting for them at the gate. Andy’s face was red and puffy from crying.
“Nau, was is letz, Andy?” Carrie asked. What’s wrong? Something terrible must have happened; Andy never cried.
“Dad,” he sobbed, gulping for air. “It’s Dad.” He threw himself into Carrie’s arms and buried his face against her.
“Was fehlt ihm?” Carrie’s heart started to pound. What’s wrong with him?
Daniel explained that Jacob had been shoeing a horse when it kicked
him.
“Someone’s taken him to the hospital, yes?” Carrie asked. Her pulse quickened as her breath came up short.
Daniel shook his head. “He’s on the couch in the kitchen.” He took a step closer to Carrie.
“We must get him to the hospital. He has hemophilia. He’s a bleeder. He needs an infusion of Factor IX.” She stroked Andy’s hair. “Alles ist ganz gut, Andy.” All will be well. She looked up at Daniel. “Did you call for an ambulance?”
Daniel glanced up at the house. “Carrie . . .”
Emma gasped as she seemed to understand what Daniel couldn’t say. “Ach, nee! Ach, nee! Er is dot, zwahr? Ach, liebe Mamm!” Oh, no! Oh, no! He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh, dear Mom! She ran toward the house.
Carrie heard Emma’s cries, but the words dipped and swirled like barn swallows in her mind. She watched Emma disappear into the house, heard her shout for Esther. Andy had tightened his grip around her waist, his small body wracked with huge, wrenching sobs. She took in the concerned look on Daniel’s face and then the full sense of what Emma said struck her, a panic gripped her chest so tightly that she thought her heart had stopped beating. No. There must be a mistake.
“He was kicked in the head. It was too late—”
“Du bischt letz,” she told Daniel in a voice that was too calm. You are wrong.
Daniel rubbed his forehead. After a moment, he lifted his head. “It was too late by the time Esther found him—”
“Esther found him?” Carrie’s hands flew to cup her face. “She didn’t call the ambulance, did she?” She started trembling. “Esther didn’t think he ever needed infusions. She said they cost too much and didn’t believe they were necessary.” She started to gulp for air. “She has the money, you see. This farm, it belongs to her. She never lets him forget that.”
Daniel took a step closer to her.
“And then the last time Dad was hurt,” Carrie continued without stopping to breathe, “she talked him out of having an infusion. It took him months to recover. The blood pooled in his joints and caused him terrible pain. But if his head was ever injured, he would be in serious trouble because the blood would pool in the brain. The doctor said so. I heard him say so. Esther knew that.” She was visibly shaking now. “She knew that.”
Carrie looked to Daniel, hoping he would admit that it was a prank, a bad joke. That Jacob was waiting for her and for Andy in the kitchen. But Daniel wore such pain in his eyes that she knew it was real.
My father is dead. He’s dead! A small startled cry escaped from her throat.
Daniel stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of them—a grief-stricken woman and a sobbing little boy—and held them tight.
2
Jacob Weaver’s body was embalmed by the English undertaker and returned, the next day, to the farmhouse for the viewing. All afternoon, Carrie, Esther, Emma, and Andy received friends and neighbors offering condolences, doing errands of kindness. It was a soaker of a day, gray skies that poured down rain, matching Carrie’s dark, troubled mood.
Carrie was worried about her brother. Andy was silent, never far from her side. She wasn’t sure how to help him. It was one thing to grieve the loss of a parent, but after Esther’s outrageous accusation last night, she wasn’t sure he would ever be himself again. There was no balm for this wound.
It started when Andy had arrived late to supper, having lost track of time. Andy’s absentmindedness was a constant source of irritation to Esther, and last night she told him that Jacob’s death was his fault.
“Your father had told you to come to the barn straight from gathering eggs in the henhouse,” Esther said, pointing a long finger in his direction. “If you had just obeyed your father, instead of getting distracted like you always do, he could be alive today. You knew he was a bleeder. Every minute counted.”
Carrie exploded at Esther’s accusation. “Sie ist schunn ab im Kopp! Er ist ein Kind! Mei vadder hett’s net erlaabt! Du settscht dich scheme!” You are crazy! He is only a child! My father would not permit such talk! You should be ashamed! Her fists shook as she screamed, her chin quivered with rage. “You don’t care, Esther! You never did!”
Esther stared into Carrie’s eyes, a standoff, before abruptly turning and leaving the kitchen.
Carrie rushed to put her arms around Andy, crumbled with grief, weeping silently. “Andy, Andy, don’t listen to her. It was Dad’s time. The Lord God decided that, not you. And not Esther, either.” Carrie scooped Andy up on her lap and held him tight against her.
It surprised Carrie to hear those words about God burst out of her mouth, as naturally as if they came from her heart. Triggering a fresh wave of grief, it sounded like something her father would have said.
When Sol arrived with his family to pay respects, he slipped a note to Carrie to meet him in the barn. As soon as he viewed Jacob’s body and shook Esther’s hand, he hurried to the barn to wait for Carrie. He knew she had to wait until an opportune moment; no one was supposed to have any idea they were courting. Funny, he thought, leaning against the horse’s stall, they both tiptoed so carefully around the brittle requirements of the church. In two short days, they would no longer need to worry.
The heavy barn door slid open with a rumble. Carrie waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim light, then ran to him.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, folding her into his arms. For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Keeping her head tucked under Sol’s chin, Carrie broke the silence.“I should have been here. We came back late from the market. Maybe if I’d been here, I could have gotten him to the hospital. She didn’t even call for an ambulance.”
“It was just an accident, Carrie,” Sol said, tipping her chin up to face him. “Esther is a lot of things, but she isn’t cruel.” He knew how Carrie adored her father. That was one reason he wanted them to leave before they were baptized. He didn’t want Jacob to have to shun Carrie.
“Neglecting a head injury when someone has hemophilia is cruel.”
“A kick in the head is pretty hard to recover from, bleeder or not.”
“But she didn’t even give him a chance.”
“Aw, Carrie, be fair. From what I heard, it was too late by the time anyone found him.”
She sighed deeply as if her argument had run out of steam. “Maybe you’re right. Dad was unconscious by the time Esther got to him.”
Sol pulled her close to his chest. “Things have a way of working out, Carrie.”
She pulled back from him, a confused look on her face. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking this over. I know how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to your father—”
She tilted her head. “What are you saying?”
“Just that, maybe it’s a sign. That it’s right for us to leave.”
“God gave us a sign to leave by letting my father die?”
Sol put his hands on her shoulders, but she flinched, shrugging them off. This wasn’t going the way he had hoped. He decided to change subjects. “I struck four batters out yesterday and threw a runner out at second base. You know what they’re starting to call me? ‘The Riehl Deal.’ ”
Her eyes widened as if his words had hit her, a solid slap. “Sol, I can’t leave Andy. I won’t leave him with her.”
“You can’t be responsible for Andy for the rest of your life.”
“Maybe not. But I’m responsible for him until he’s grown. I’m his only sibling. We have no one else, Sol.”
Sol felt his stomach tie itself into a square knot. “Carrie,” he said, choosing his words with great sympathy, “we have to face facts. We need to be practical. I can’t take care of a wife and a little boy. Especially one with hemophilia. Andy needs to stay on the farm, with his people. They can help him with his medical bills. I can’t do that.”
“I realize that,” Carrie said. “But there’s another choice.”
He lifted his hands, exasperated. “Such as?”
She looked at him as if it was
the most obvious thing in the world. “You could stay.”
After Sol left with his family, Carrie went back to the house, so exhausted and emotionally spent that she felt numb. She was certain that Sol would think everything over and agree with her. It shocked her to hear him still talk about leaving. Why couldn’t he see it? Remaining in the church was the best choice. The only choice.
When the entire Riehl family came to her father’s funeral on Monday and Sol was absent, she tried not to panic. Then she thought of how he had kissed her in the barn before he slipped back out to join his family, and she knew. It was a goodbye kiss. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but she knew. Er hat sei verlosse. He had left, without her.
Carrie didn’t think it was possible that a heart could break twice, in just one week.
One month after her father’s funeral, Carrie thought she might just commit murder. Esther had discovered that Andy had left the gate unlocked, and the sheep had wandered down the road into other neighbors’ fields. It had taken Esther all afternoon to gather them. Afterward, she took a switch from the willow tree and beat Andy’s backside.
When Carrie returned home from the farmer’s market and saw Andy’s bruises, it was like someone lit a match to kerosene, her temper flared so hot and fast. She marched to the barn to prepare the horse and buggy to take Andy to the hospital. She grabbed the bridle and hurried to the stall, clumsily thrusting the bit into the horse’s mouth, her hands were shaking so badly. “Es dutt mir leed,” she whispered, apologizing to the horse, trying to gain control over her emotions.
Later, at the hospital, Carrie sat by Andy’s bedside in the emergency room as a long tube snaked from an IV bag into his vein, filling him with Factor IX to help his blood clot. Mesmerized by the television hanging on the wall, Andy watched it, slack-jawed. The sight made Carrie smile. It felt rusty, that smile, but it felt good.
With Andy occupied, Carrie grew restless and noticed a newspaper left on a chair. She picked it up and automatically turned to the sports section, just as she did every time she worked at the Central Market, scanning for news of Sol. Just last week, she had read that he was the closing pitcher for every game.
The Choice Page 2