"Hello, Hen." He leaned down to kiss her cheek before stepping inside the house, still holding Mattie's hand.
"I helped Mommy set the table," Mattie Sue announced, showing him where to sit.
Brandon cocked his head slightly and smiled down at her. "Thanks."
"Can you say `Denki'? That's Amish for `thank you,' " Mattie Sue told him in a singsongy voice.
Hen flinched. "Mattie Sue ... please wash your hands."
Without blinking an eye or whining whatsoever, Mattie hurried to the rustic washroom around the corner.
"Impressive," Brandon remarked. "She's been in obedience training, what ... less than six days now?"
Hen felt the color rush to her face. Her expectation of immediate obedience had been one of the many disagreements they'd had over rearing their daughter. Brandon was much more lenient, and his brusque comment wasn't a good sign. There was no sense in taking the bait.
Trying to remain unflustered, Hen lifted the thick steak out of the large black skillet and spooned the gravy on top. Mattie Sue appeared again just as Hen dished up Brandon's favorite scalloped potatoes, then another one of his favorites - baked beans with bacon, onions, dark brown sugar, ketchup, mustard, and molasses.
"Looks like you outdid yourself." All of a sudden his smile seemed genuine.
She and Mattie Sue sat down, and as Brandon picked up his fork to dig in, Hen bowed her head and Mattie Sue folded her hands in prayer. Together, they offered the silent prayer, just as her own father was doing undoubtedly at this moment in the main house. Josh and Kate and their family, along with the bishop and Barbara, were gathering there for a small celebration following the applesauce frolic. Mattie Sue's eyes were still closed when Hen raised her head and said amen.
"Hungry?" Brandon asked Mattie when her eyes flew open. A big smile followed.
"We say two blessings at the meal now, Daddy. One right before we eat and one afterward."
Hen noticed Brandon's controlled smirk. They ate for a time without anyone speaking, and Hen breathed another silent prayer for God's blessing on their time together.
"After we finish eating," Brandon told Mattie Sue, "I have something to show you."
Her eyes literally sparkled at him across the table. "What is it?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
"Where is it?" Mattie Sue pressed.
"Outside ... in the car."
"Why didn't you bring it in?"
Hen intervened. "Mattie Sue.. ."
Brandon shook his head. "It's okay. Let her play along."
Backing down, Hen let him have the upper hand.
"Give me a little hint, okay, Daddy?"
Brandon shook his head. "After you're done with your meal, I'll take you out to see it."
Hen cut into her steak, pleased with its tenderness. She'd marinated the meat since early morning.
"What did you do today, Mattie?"
"I twisted the stems off lots of apples," answered Mattie Sue, her mouth still full.
"Wait to talk until you're finished chewing, honey," Hen prompted her.
Brandon ignored the comment. "You weren't making candy apples, were you?"
"Applesauce, Daddy!"
He was laughing now, and the sound of it made Hen ache for the happier times. Can we ever get those days back, dear Lord?
When Hen offered seconds to her husband, he took a smaller portion of meat this time but passed on the side dishes, saying he was watching his weight. "I know - this is new, right?" He smiled fleetingly.
"Amish don't exactly count calories," she replied.
"What's a calorie?" Mattie Sue pushed back her plate.
"You'll know soon enough." Brandon reached for his glass of root beer. "This is delicious." He stared at the glass.
Mattie Sue piped up. "Mommy made it ... just like at home."
"Honey ..." said Hen.
"It's all right," Brandon said. "Guess I never really noticed it before. Overworking can do that."
The meal was topped off with Mattie Sue's choice: applesauce with cinnamon and a dollop of whipped cream. "See? We made more applesauce than I've ever seen in my whole life." Mattie Sue giggled.
When they'd eaten their fill, Brandon pushed back from the table and thanked Hen for the terrific meal. Then he turned to Mattie Sue. "Are you ready for the big surprise?"
Hen had no idea what her husband was up to. She stood at the window and watched as Brandon took Mattie to the car and opened the door on the passenger's side. He reached into the front seat and brought out a small pet carrier. "Goodness, he must've bought a puppy," she whispered, moving to the back door. Unbelievable!
Mattie Sue put her hands inside the carrier and lifted out an adorable cinnamon-colored cocker spaniel puppy. Hen heard her squeal, then rush back to the door, excited to show off her new dog.
Brandon followed closely behind, his face beaming with the pleasure his gift had brought their daughter. "What would you like to name her?" He squatted down to Mattie's eye level.
Mattie's eyes glowed with delight. "I can name her? I really can?" She slipped one arm around Brandon's neck, still holding the beautiful purebred puppy.
For the next full hour, Mattie and newly named Wiggles were inseparable. She showed Brandon her picture books and asked him to read one, all the while cuddling the irresistible dog, who slept in her lap.
Hen sat across from them, glad she'd brought in this particular gas lamp before Brandon's arrival because it looked similar to an electric lamp. She didn't want the lack of electricity to be a point of discussion for his first visit. She eyed the book on marriage, lying on the table near where Brandon and Mattie sat.
A knock sounded at the door, and Hen rose to open it.
"Hullo there," her dad said, coming in. "Saw a car parked over here and wondered if it was Brandon, just maybe."
"Dawdi, lookee here," Mattie Sue said, jumping up and showing off Wiggles.
Hen stood quietly, her hands folded, hoping her husband would be courteous about this impromptu visit. She held her breath when Brandon got up, still holding the picture book, and went to shake hands with her father.
"Nice to see ya," her dad said. "Come anytime."
"Thanks," Brandon said and looked down at Mattie Sue with Wiggles. "Guess you've got yourself a grandpup." Brandon chuckled at his own joke.
"You wanna hold her, Grandpa?" asked Mattie Sue, holding up the puppy.
"Sure do!" Dad squatted down and took the puppy from Mattie, putting her up on his shoulder like a newborn babe.
Brandon cast a sideways glance at Hen, as though he assumed she'd put her father up to this visit. Hen was helpless to say or do anything - in spite of Brandon's request, she refused to rudely send her dad on his way. She tried to walk the fence for both men, knowing her husband was offended that she appeared not to have kept her word.
Later, when Mattie Sue went outside with her father, still carrying Wiggles, Hen told Brandon she hadn't known her dad was going to drop by.
He shrugged. "Well, what can you do? You live all clumped up together here ... like a commune or something."
She wanted to defend that but caught herself and said nothing. Changing the subject, she said, "Mattie Sue's responsible for her own chores - indoor and outdoor," she said, making small talk.
"Sounds like child labor."
"Brandon, please." She reached to touch his arm. Why was he so belligerent tonight?
"Do you really think this is the best place for our daughter?"
Hen sighed. "We've already talked about this."
"Right." He headed for the back door. "Well, thanks again for the good meal."
Her heart sank. She'd wanted to share so much more. "I spoke to the bishop," she said, hoping he might stay while Mattie Sue was over next door.
He nodded. "Hope you got everything about your sinful past squared away."
Disheartened, Hen stood at the door, watching him pause there on the little porch. Everything the bishop and Barbara h
ad said came rushing back to her - about being kind and accommodating to him. Shower Brandon "with love.".. .
"I hope you'll come again," she said quietly. "For supper ... or just to visit."
He didn't respond, nor did he ask what she'd discussed with the bishop. But he did turn slightly and said with a straight face, "Mattie's puppy will stay with me."
"Aw ... Brandon."
He shook his head. "She can have it when she comes home."
Her heart flew into her throat.
"Listen, Mattie doesn't have to live your very weird life, Hen. Let her decide where she wants to live - and how." He turned and headed for the car just as Mattie Sue came across the lawn, caressing the puppy.
Mattie Sue's too young to know where she should live! Hen watched helplessly as Brandon leaned down and talked to their daughter, touching the back of her head.
He's telling her the puppy's going with him!
It was all Hen could do not to rush out the door and cause a scene. Mattie Sue glanced back at the house, not seeing her. Then she looked up at Brandon, so trusting ... so naive about what was ahead.
Mattie reached to take her daddy's hand and nodded her little head as she followed Brandon to the car.
No, dear Lord ... please don't let this happen!
Silas was waiting for Rose beneath the grove of trees right after the bend on Salem Road. He stood beside his horse, wearing a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and black vest and trousers. Rose was incapable of keeping her smile in check. Oh, how handsome he looked in his black felt hat. She recalled him saying his straw hat was "wearin' thin" last Sunday evening after Singing.
"Rose Ann." He nodded his head.
"Hullo, Silas." It had been nearly a full week since she'd last seen him. Almost that long since Hen has seen Brandon, too, she thought as she got herself settled in the open buggy.
As they pulled away from the shoulder of the road, her thoughts and prayers were with Hen, who might still be spending time with her husband. Rose had seen the sweet gift from Brandon, Mattie Sue's new puppy, before she'd managed to slip away to meet Silas.
Surely a hopeful sign, she thought of the cute cocker spaniel. Mattie Sue had been so giddy, she could hardly speak. Mamm, too, had been delighted to pet the dog and said she must bring him over so they could play with Wiggles together. For a woman who did not care one scrap about having animals in the house, Mamm was certainly taken with Mattie Sue's new puppy.
Rose shared the story of the little dog with Silas, and about meeting Beth Browning for the first time. She also told him that Hen and Mattie had moved home for a while. "All of this in the space of a single week!" she said.
But Silas was quieter than any other time they'd been together. It wasn't until they'd ridden in near silence for quite some time that Silas said his father had seen her in Quarryville. Rose had hoped Reuben Good might not bring it up to Silas, since her being with Nick had no bearing whatsoever on her and Silas's courtship.
"Daed noticed you were riding with another fella," said Silas, not looking at her.
"Well, it was strange how it all came about," she replied. "I'd fallen and hurt my leg - could scarcely walk. Nick happened by and took me to Old Eli's."
"My father wondered why one of your brothers didn't take you instead."
"Jah, it must've looked a bit odd, 'specially if he knows you and I are courting."
"Daed was troubled by it, I'll say." Silas paused and glanced at her. "Mainly because it was Nick you were with."
Rose felt put out suddenly. No one knows him like I do, she thought, but she was smart enough not to refute Silas.
"That no-gut Nick ... he's caused so much grief for Bishop Aaron. Christian too."
Rose knew Silas and Christian were longtime close friends. "Some brothers tend to argue too much at times," she said in Nick's defense, not knowing what else to say.
"Oh, but not many carry a grudge for years."
"A grudge? On whose part - Christian's?"
"No ... Nick's." Silas sounded so adamant she was taken aback at his loyalty to Christian.
"Well, what about?" she asked.
"He's carried a chip on his shoulder since the bishop brought him here, is what Christian says. Nick despises anything to do with the Plain life."
"Then, why's he still here?"
"Mighty gut question." Silas turned to look at her again. "But Christian has a theory 'bout that."
"Oh?"
He nodded his head emphatically. "He's certain it's because of you, Rose Ann."
"Me?" She remembered Nick's pleading with her to go to visit his mother's grave, to visit the English world. "That's mighty farfetched."
"Christian says the two of you - you and Nick - are much closer friends than anyone knows."
She stiffened. What anyone had to say about that, well, she really didn't care. Truth was, she and Nick were close, but they'd guarded their friendship to keep tongues from wagging - and to keep folks from jumping to the wrong conclusion. "We work together in Dat's barn most afternoons," she offered. "I'm sure Christian told ya."
"He did indeed."
She held her breath, hoping there wasn't more to defend. Yet why should she have to? She and Nick had done nothing wrong.
"Christian suspects the two of you go ridin' alone sometimes."
Rose sighed. This was not turning out to be a very good night!
"I hope he's mistaken about that," Silas said, "since you're my girl now."
For a brief moment, just to demonstrate her innocence, Rose thought of describing a few of the adventures she'd had with Nick. But something powerful stirred within, and she recalled having a similar ominous feeling that terrible day so long ago when her mother left for market. This time she heeded her intuition. "I am your girl, Silas ... and happy to be," she said and left it at that.
In saying what she did, Rose had also protected her friendship with Nick, which was as important to her just now as sitting there beside Silas Good, who smiled and reached for her hand.
In that moment of sheer blackness, Hen watched her world tip and plunge upside down. She pressed her hand to her heart.
Mattie Sue, my precious child!
Her heart cried out for her daughter, yet she was mute. Her legs were as useless as her mother's, who was surely over next door in the main house talking with the bishop's wife and Kate ... her little granddaughters at her knee.
Hen's anger filled her beyond reason as she watched Brandon take the puppy from Mattie Sue and place the pet into the carrier in back, behind the driver's seat. Then, like a robot, he marched around the car and opened the door on the opposite side, waiting for Mattie to get in.
Just when Hen's heart was in the process of shattering, Mattie Sue looked back at the house - and saw Hen there at the door. She raised her little hand to wave. Brandon urged her to get inside, but Mattie Sue dug in her heels and shook her head. Then, like a dart, she moved quickly away from the car and dashed toward Hen, her long skirt and apron flying. "Mommy . . . Mommy!"
Hen thought she must be returning to say good-bye, but her little girl's face was wet with tears. "Oh, M-Mommy . . ." Mattie Sue stuttered, unable to do more than sob in her mother's arms. "Daddy's t-taking ... Wiggles away from ... me."
"But you're here, baby ... you're still here."
"I thought Wiggles was mine."
Hen continued to hold Mattie Sue, then carried her into the house and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, her daughter clinging to her neck and crying for both the puppy and for Mommy, all in one sorrowful blend of betrayal and confusion.
The next morning Rose Ann awakened with Hen and Brandon heavily on her mind. She hadn't gone over to talk to Hen after arriving home last night because Hen's gas lamps had already been extinguished. But she'd discovered her distraught father in the kitchen, unable to sleep, all bent over his Bible as he prayed for Hen and her little family. It was at that late hour she'd learned of Brandon's trickery. Poor, poor Mattie Sue!
> Now, as she stretched out her feet in bed and slipped her hand beneath her cheek, she wondered if Hen might not be wishing this Lord's Day were a Preaching Sunday. Rose couldn't help but think such a gathering might do her sister some good. Next Sunday, she thought, anxious herself for worship with the People.
She heard Hen downstairs - at least, she assumed it was her sister - starting breakfast. Soon she also heard Mattie Sue's birdlike chatter. Mamm must be down there, too, she guessed. Who better to comfort Mattie over the loss of her puppy than dear Mamm? It pained Rose when she thought about Brandon's cruel deed.
How could a father do such a thing?
Later, after the noon dishes were redd up and put away, two of Rose's cousins, Sarah and Sadie Kauffman - and their parents - stopped by on their way home from having also visited the bishop. After a time, Rose and Sarah slipped out of the house and went walking together. They'd invited Sadie to join them, but she'd wanted to stay and visit with Mattie Sue instead.
"Are ya planning to come to the next Singing, Sarah?" Rose asked as they strolled through the meadow behind the barn.
Sarah's pretty eyes twinkled in the sunlight. "I hope to."
Rose leaned near to whisper, "Is there a chance you might flirt with Nick again ... like last time?" She felt strangely blunt, yet she wasn't at all adept at this sort of thing.
"Honestly, do you really think I'd waste my time with the likes of him?"
Her response surprised Rose. "I was just wondering. You and Mary seemed bent on getting his attention ... well, last gathering."
Sarah moistened her lips and smiled. Now it was her turn to whisper in Rose's ear. "He's a cold fish, seems to me."
"Why would ya say that?"
"'Cause he's not interested in me or in Mary - neither one." Sarah looked away, frowning, then back at her. "You tryin' to look out for him, Rosie?"
She was, but Rose wouldn't say why. "Sure is hard to understand why he never had a girlfriend, ain't so?" said Rose.
"Might be he's not thinking of stayin' round long enough to settle down and marry. 'Least that's how the grapevine has it."
The Thorn (The Rose Trilogy) Page 22