A Sister's Test

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  A groan escaped Ruth’s lips. She needed someplace to think—somewhere to clear her head.

  The floorboards squeaked as she rose to her feet, feeling as though she were in a dream. She shuffled across the room. . .one. . .two. . . three. . .four steps to the door. Her hand clasped the knob. A few more steps and she slowly descended the stairs. The house seemed so quiet. Somewhere in the distance she heard a steady tick-tock, tick-tock.

  Dad’s taken Mom to see the chiropractor. Martha’s at Irene’s. No one needs me. I’m all alone.

  She meandered into the kitchen and leaned against the wall, stricken with grief and a longing so strong she felt as if her heart might burst. Martin, I miss you so.

  Ruth jumped as the clang of the dinner bell beating against the side of the house rattled the kitchen window. She needed fresh air. Needed to clear her head.

  She jerked open the back door and stepped onto the porch. The sun still shone, but a gust of wind whipped around her face and took her breath away.

  As if her legs had a mind of their own, they led her toward the barn. She halted in front of the silo and looked up. She had climbed up there several times when she was a girl, whenever one of her sisters had dared her to do it. Ruth wasn’t afraid of heights, and the silo had seemed like a good place to sit and think. She remembered how she had enjoyed the view—gazing at the lush green pasture where the horses nibbled grass, watching the clouds drift lazily overhead, counting the cars zipping past their house.

  Ruth reached up and grabbed hold of the ladder, bringing one foot up behind her and then the other. Slowly, she made her way up until she reached the opening near the peak of the silo. Turning, she took a seat on the ledge, her legs resting on the top rung of the ladder. As she stared at the vastness below, her head started to spin. What was going on? She wasn’t afraid of heights. Why the woozy feeling?

  She closed her eyes, and an image of Martin flashed into her mind. Oh, how she missed him. It had been three months since he’d been killed, but the ache in her heart hadn’t diminished. With each passing day, the bitterness toward the one who had caused the accident escalated. Forgiveness seemed an impossible feat.

  Ruth’s eyelids fluttered, and hot tears dribbled down her flushed cheeks. She drew in a ragged breath and struggled against the temptation to jump. Oh, God, I know it would be wrong to take my life, but I don’t want to live anymore. I want the pain to end. I want to be with Martin. She gulped, and a pang of fear twisted her insides. Help me, Lord. Show me what to do.

  As Rosemary left her rental car and started walking toward her brother’s woodworking shop, doubts filled her mind. Was she foolish for coming here again and trying to make things right between her and Roman? Would he listen to her this time? Could she make him understand the way things were? Or would he order her out of his shop again?

  She sent up a silent prayer, opened the shop door, and stepped inside. Roman’s son-in-law sat at a metal desk in the center of the room, but she saw no sign of Roman.

  “Is my brother here?” she asked, stepping up to the desk.

  Cleon shook his head. “He took Judith to see the chiropractor this morning. As far as I know, Ruth’s the only one at home right now.”

  Rosemary stared at the floor, wondering if she should leave a message for Roman, go up to the house to visit Ruth, or head back to town.

  “Ruth would probably like some company,” Cleon said. “She lost her husband in a buggy accident a few months ago. She’s been sad and lonely ever since.”

  Rosemary could relate to that. She’d been sad and lonely since Bob died, despite his deathbed confession that he’d intercepted all of the letters she’d written to her family over the years.

  “Do you know when Roman will be back?” she asked. “I really would like to speak with him.”

  Cleon shrugged. “I’m not sure. He said something about taking Judith out to lunch and then doing some shopping before coming home. He might not be here for several hours.”

  Rosemary fiddled with the strap on her purse, then turned toward the door. “I guess I will stop and see Ruth. Maybe by the time we’re done visiting, Roman and Judith will be home.”

  Cleon smiled. “In case you miss Roman, I’ll be sure to tell him you were here.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Rosemary walked up the path toward her brother’s house, she thought about what Cleon had said concerning Ruth. No wonder the poor girl had seemed so sad and disconnected when she’d visited with her the other day. I should have recognized the look of pain on her face. I’ve seen it often enough when I’ve looked in the mirror. Maybe I can say something to help Ruth deal with the loss she’s sustained.

  Rosemary stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. Several seconds went by, but no one answered.

  Maybe Ruth is in her room and didn’t hear my knock.

  Rosemary turned the knob and opened the door. “Hello! Is anyone home?”

  No answer.

  She stood below the stairs and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Ruth, are you up there?”

  No response.

  Maybe she’s sleeping or went out back to check on the clothes I saw hanging on the line when I arrived.

  Rosemary stepped outside and started around the house. “Hello! Is anyone here?”

  No reply and no sign of Ruth. I may as well head back to town. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.

  She started toward her car but stopped to watch a twittering blue jay as it pecked at seeds in a nearby feeder. A downy woodpecker swooped in just then, and the blue jay took flight. She watched it soar over the treetops, past the barn, and up toward the silo.

  Rosemary blinked and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun. It looked as though someone was sitting on the ledge near the top of the ladder. It couldn’t be. No one in their right mind would be foolish enough to climb up there and sit on the ledge.

  She tipped her head back and stared. It was a woman dressed in Amish clothes. Could it be Ruth? Had she climbed up there to— Oh, dear God, no!

  Rosemary hurried toward the silo, a sense of urgency pressing her forward. Despite her fear of heights, she dropped her purse to the ground, grabbed the side of the ladder, and started to climb.

  She’d only made it halfway up when Ruth called out, “Don’t come any farther!”

  Rosemary halted and looked up. “It’s me, Ruth—Aunt Rosemary.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’d like to speak with you.”

  No response.

  “Please, Ruth, come down.”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t come down, I’m coming up.”

  When Ruth didn’t move, Rosemary began climbing again. The metallic taste of fear sprang to her mouth. Please, God, don’t let her jump.

  By the time Rosemary reached the top rung, her hands shook so badly, she could barely hang on. “I’m afraid of heights,” she confessed. “You need to come down so we can talk.”

  Ruth shook her head.

  “I understand your pain. As I told you the other day, I lost my husband, too.”

  “Was he murdered?”

  “No. Bob died of a heart attack.”

  “Did you lose your ability to have children when he died?”

  “No, but—”

  “I know it would be wrong to take my own life, but I—I have nothing to live for.” Ruth emitted a pathetic-sounding sob. “I want the person who rammed our buggy to pay for what he did.”

  “I’m aware of what it’s like to feel anger and resentment,” Rosemary said. “I was angry with my husband when I found out he had betrayed me.”

  Ruth stared straight ahead, her chin quivering and tears streaming down her cheeks. “H–how did he betray you?”

  “I’d rather not discuss the details of that right now. But I do want you to know that one day while I was reading my Bible, I came across Matthew 6:14. It says, ‘For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.’ ” She paused an
d drew in a quick breath. “Ruth, the only way you’ll ever have peace is to let go of your anger and forgive the one responsible for your husband’s death.”

  Tears coursed down Ruth’s cheeks. “I–I’m not sure I can, but I know taking my life isn’t the answer.”

  Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief. “Then you’ll come down the ladder with me?”

  Ruth nodded.

  “Thank You, God,” Rosemary murmured. She knew without a shadow of doubt that she couldn’t leave Holmes County. Even if she never got through to Roman, she would stay because Ruth needed her. Truth was, Rosemary needed someone, too.

  Wie geht’s?” Abe asked as he entered Roman’s woodworking shop on Friday morning and found Roman kneeling on the floor beside an old rocking chair.

  “I’m doin’ okay. And you?”

  “I was fine until Sue told me during lunch yesterday that our mamm broke her hip. Now Sue will have to return home to help out.”

  Roman’s forehead wrinkled. “You’ve got a problem with your sister helping your mamm?”

  “It’s not her caring for Mom that bothers me; it’s the fact that she’ll be moving back to Illinois, and I’ll be left without anyone to watch my kinner and keep up with the house.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to need a maad.”

  Abe nodded. “I need a maid, all right, and I came by to see if you think Ruth might be interested in the job.”

  Roman’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t think so. Ruth’s been struggling with depression since Martin died.”

  “I think her going to work is a great idea,” Cleon said from where he was sanding cabinets.

  Roman looked at him with a dubious expression. “You do?”

  Cleon nodded. “It’s been three months since Martin died, and Ruth will barely go anywhere or take part in anything the family does. I think it would be good for her to get involved in someone else’s life and do something useful. Might help take her mind off her own problems.”

  “Cleon’s right,” Abe said as a feeling of hope welled in his chest. “I speak from experience when I say that it’s not good for a body to sit around and dwell on her pain. If Ruth came to work for me, she’d not only be helping us out, but it would give her something meaningful to do.” He smiled. “Besides, I know for a fact that my kinner think a lot of Ruth.”

  Roman stood, yawned, and stretched his arms overhead. “You might be right about that.” He reached around to rub a spot on his lower back. “Ruth’s not only good with kinner, but she’s a fine cook and knows how to keep house real well. I’m sure she would do a good job for you.”

  “Will you speak to her about the job?” Abe asked.

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  Abe poked a finger under the side of his hat and scratched his head. “I figured she might respond better if you do the asking.”

  “I doubt that.” Roman grunted. “I don’t have a lot of influence on any of my daughters these days.”

  “I could ask her, but that might seem kind of odd,” Cleon said. “I agree with Roman; you should speak to Ruth yourself, Abe.”

  “She’s up at the house with Judith. I think they were planning to bake some cookies.” Roman wiggled his eyebrows. “If you ask real nice, you might get a few.”

  Abe nodded. “Jah, okay. I’ll head up there and see what Ruth has to say.”

  “Could you please check on those cookies in the oven?” Mom asked, glancing over her shoulder at Ruth. “I need to use the necessary room.” She hurried from the kitchen before Ruth could respond.

  With a weary sigh, Ruth opened the oven door and peered inside. The soft molasses cookies were rising nicely, but they weren’t quite brown enough. She figured they needed a few more minutes.

  She reached for the teakettle at the back of stove, poured herself a cup of hot water, and added a tea bag. She was about to take a seat at the table when a knock sounded at the back door. Since Mom was still in the bathroom and Martha had gone to the barn some time ago, Ruth went to answer the door. She was pleased to find her aunt on the porch.

  “I hope you’re not busy,” Aunt Rosemary said, “because I’d like to take you to lunch in Millersburg. Afterward, I thought it might be fun to go shopping at Wal-Mart.”

  Ruth sucked in her breath. She hadn’t been anywhere other than church since Martin died. The thought of going out to lunch or shopping in a big store made her feel queasy. “I—I don’t know—”

  “It’ll be good for you to get out of the house and do something fun.” Aunt Rosemary gave Ruth’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I need to buy a few things, and it would be nice to have someone along to keep me company.”

  Ruth opened her mouth to respond, but Mom came out of the bathroom just then. “Who was at the door, Ruth?”

  “It’s Aunt Rosemary.” Ruth stepped aside and motioned her aunt into the house.

  “Oh, good. I’m glad you came back. Have you been to the woodworking shop to speak with Roman?”

  Rosemary shook her head. “Not today. I came by to see if Ruth would like to go shopping and out to lunch with me.” She smiled at Ruth’s mother. “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Mom said, “but Grace is coming over soon, and we’d planned to do some sewing.” She slipped her arm around Ruth’s waist. “I think you should go. It would do you a world of good to get out of the house for a while.”

  Ruth was on the verge of saying that she didn’t feel up to going when she caught a whiff of something burning. “Ach, the cookies!” She rushed into the kitchen, flipped the oven door open, and withdrew the cookie sheet. Every one of the cookies was overly dark and crispy around the edges.

  “Are they ruined?” Mom asked as she and Aunt Rosemary stepped into the room.

  Ruth nodded. “I’m afraid so. It’s a good thing the two batches we made earlier turned out okay.” She glanced over at her aunt. “Would you like to try one of the good ones?”

  Aunt Rosemary shook her head. “The offer’s tempting, but I don’t want to spoil my appetite for lunch. Speaking of which, have you decided whether you’ll go to Millersburg with me?”

  “She’ll go,” Mom said before Ruth could open her mouth. “And when you get back, maybe you’ll have a chance to talk to that glotzkeppich husband of mine.”

  “Roman always was a stubborn one, even when he was a boy.” Aunt Rosemary shook her head. “I will try to speak with him again, but I’m not holding my breath that he’ll listen to anything I have to say.”

  “I’ll be praying that he does. There’s been enough misunderstanding in this family.”

  Ruth grimaced. She knew her mother was probably referring to the secret Grace had kept when she’d returned home after going English for a time. Ruth wasn’t sure whether Dad had ever come to grips with the knowledge that Grace had kept her previous marriage to an Englisher from him for some time.

  “Well, now,” Aunt Rosemary said, touching Ruth’s arm, “should the two of us head for town?”

  Ruth glanced at the charred cookies sitting on the counter. “I’ve still got a couple more batches to bake.”

  “Never mind that,” Mom said with a shake of her head. “You run along with Rosemary, and I’ll finish the cookies.”

  Ruth figured she wasn’t going to argue her way out of going, so she plucked her sweater and purse off the wall peg near the door and had just touched the doorknob when a knock sounded.

  “Must be our day for company,” Mom said. “Open it, Ruth, and see who’s come calling.”

  When Ruth opened the door, she was surprised to see Abe Wengerd standing on the porch holding his straw hat. “Guder mariye,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Mind if I come in a minute?”

  “No, of course not.” Ruth opened the door wider. “If you came to see Dad, he’s working in his shop right now.”

  “Been there already. It’s you I’m here to see.”

  “Me?” Ruth couldn’t imagine what A
be would need to see her about.

  “I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming to work for me.”

  “In the harness shop?”

  “No, no,” he said, looking a bit flustered. “I meant as a maad.”

  “But you have Sue helping you with the household chores. Isn’t she able to handle things on her own?”

  “She’ll be leaving on Monday—going back home to help our mamm, who recently fell and broke her hip.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mom said, stepping out of the kitchen. She nudged Ruth gently on the arm. “I think it would be a good idea for you to work as Abe’s maid.”

  “No. I couldn’t do that,” Ruth said with a shake of her head.

  “Why not?” The question came from Aunt Rosemary, who had stepped up behind Mom.

  “Well, I. . .” Ruth’s face flushed with heat, and her hands began to shake. “I’m needed here, helping you.”

  “Nonsense.” Mom draped her arm across Ruth’s shoulder. “I can get by with Martha’s help, just like I did when you first got married.”

  Ruth flinched at the reminder. Ever since Aunt Rosemary had talked her down from the silo, she’d been trying not to think about Martin or the anger she felt toward the one who had killed him.

  “I really think it would be good for you.” Aunt Rosemary moved to stand beside Ruth and leaned close to her ear. “Remember the things we talked about the other day?”

  Ruth knew what Rosemary was referring to—things they’d discussed after they’d climbed down from the silo, things about Ruth making an effort to start living life again.

  “I’ve seen how well you get along with my kinner,” Abe put in as if he thought Ruth needed a bit more persuasion. “And I’ll pay you a decent wage.”

  Ruth didn’t care about the money. But it would be nice to be around Abe’s children. Besides, if she was gone all day, Mom wouldn’t be able to hover over her.

  She nodded slowly. “All right. I can begin work on Monday morning.”

  As Grace headed down the path toward her folks’ house, she spotted Ruth and an English woman, whom she guessed might be their aunt Rosemary, coming out the back door. She would have waved, but since she had a squirming baby in her arms, she didn’t think that was a good idea. By the time she got close enough to call out to them, they’d gotten into the car she’d seen parked in the driveway and pulled away.