Anna's Return

by Marta Perry

  “She’s doing great. Trying to walk, babbling all the time. She likes it here.”

  “So where is here? You haven’t told me yet where you are.”

  Liz always came to the point. Anna didn’t want to lie—probably couldn’t lie. Liz knew her about as well as Leah did. Maybe better, in some ways.

  “It’s best if you don’t know. Then you won’t have to lie if Pete asks you.”

  “I don’t mind lying to Pete,” Liz said easily. “But maybe you’re right, at that. If I don’t know, I can’t make a slip. And Pete’s been making a pest of himself.”

  Anna’s stomach tightened. She’d been telling herself that Pete would have given up by now, but she knew that underneath, she’d been afraid of this. “What did he do? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “He did not. He knows I’d see his sorry self in jail before he could count to three if he laid a finger on me. Honest, sweetie, that’s what you should have done instead of running away.”

  “Maybe so.” But she wasn’t like Liz. For all the bravado she’d shown when she left home, she had an innate reluctance to make a fuss, to draw attention to herself, and above all, to go to the law.

  Amish didn’t go to the law to solve their problems. If they were harassed too much to ignore, they’d move on rather than fight.

  “Well, it was your choice. If you need money—”

  “No, nothing like that.” Anna knew perfectly well that Liz had little to spare. “I just want to know what Pete’s been up to.”

  “Hanging out around the restaurant, ’til Antonio got fed up and threatened to call the cops. That made him back off, but he’s talked to everyone you know, trying to find out where you’ve gone.”

  Her heart sank. “I hoped he’d forgotten about us. Maybe he really does care about Gracie.”

  “Well, he had a funny way of showing it if he did.” Liz had a core of solid common sense, and it showed. “Knocking Jannie around the way he did, and then cutting out on her when she needed him the most. You take my word for it—this is just a whim. He thinks he wants the baby because he can’t have her. That’s Pete all over, always wanting what he can’t have.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Prayed she was right.

  Pete’s sudden interest in Gracie was the one twist Anna had never expected. He’d signed the relinquishment papers giving up his parental rights before Gracie was born, doing it with a sneer and a cutting comment. Why did he have to come back?

  Anna rubbed her forehead tiredly. She’d better wind this up before she ran out of coins.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much,” Liz said. “He’s either going to lose interest because it’s too much work to go on looking, or he’s going to end up in jail again for dealing. Either way, you don’t need to be afraid of him.”

  “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Liz. I hate to cut this short, but my ride’s probably waiting for me.”

  “You kiss that baby for me, okay? And call me again when you can. And Annie? Don’t worry. It’s bad for you. Gives you wrinkles.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, laughing a little in spite of herself. “I’ll call you again when I can.”

  She hung up but sat for a moment, pressing her fingers against her forehead, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. It had been so good to hear Liz’s no-nonsense tones and even better to feel the sturdy affection that lay behind the words.

  But the news Liz had delivered hadn’t been what Anna had hoped. She’d longed to hear that Pete had disappeared back into the underworld he usually inhabited, and had lost interest as soon as she was gone, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

  She straightened, scolding herself. She couldn’t give in to discouragement. She and Gracie were safe here. Besides, Myra and Joseph needed her. She couldn’t desert them now.

  The only trouble was that the longer she stayed, the harder it would be on everyone when she left.

  Well, she’d deal with that when she had to. She rose, turned, and saw Samuel leaning against the wall opposite her.

  Her temper flared. “Were you listening in on my phone call?”

  He pushed himself away from the wall, no shadow of returning anger in his face. “It’s not my business who you call, Anna. I was looking for you because Rosemary is waiting.”

  She’d almost rather he snapped back at her, instead of being so reasonable. “Sorry.” She bit off the word and started back down the hall.

  He fell into step beside her. “I tried to stay in touch with my English friends when I came back. But it just didn’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I guess we didn’t understand each other’s lives anymore. We didn’t have anything to say to each other.”

  “That won’t happen with Liz. We’re too close for that.”

  He pushed the door open, holding it for her. “I hope you’re right, if that’s what you want. But maybe in the long run you’ll drift apart. That doesn’t mean the friendship wasn’t strong, just that it was time for it to end.”

  In the long run she wouldn’t be here. She might not be lying outright about that, but with every word, every thought, she was deceiving people. She’d thought it wouldn’t matter, as long as Gracie was safe, but it did.

  “I just want to go over the records for the shop.” Joseph tried to push himself up from the rocking chair in which he’d been settled. He grimaced in pain, and Anna helped Myra ease him gently back down.

  “I’ll get the books, all right?” That was the last thing Anna thought Joseph should be doing after the exhausting day he’d had coming home from the hospital, but he’d reached the point of irrationality.

  She exchanged glances with Myra and saw that her sister-in-law was thinking exactly what she was. If Joseph were a cranky toddler, they’d put him to bed no matter how he objected.

  Daadi, sitting in the rocker across the room, cleared his throat. When Anna looked at him, he nodded slightly.

  All right, she’d get the books. She headed out the back door, pausing on the porch step to listen to the stillness.

  Dusk had settled over the farm, easing away the day’s work, telling them it was time for rest. It reminded her of the story-book she’d read to Sarah and Gracie when she’d settled them in bed, all about the mother creatures of the farm putting their babies to sleep.

  Thank goodness the rest of the family, except for Daadi, had finally gone home. They’d meant well, she supposed, gathering around to share the happiness that Joseph had left the hospital at last. But she’d seen the pain and exhaustion on his face.

  She walked across the lawn, frowning when she realized that the shop door stood open, framing a rectangle of light from a lamp.

  Samuel must still be there.

  She stopped in the doorway. “Samuel, you are working late.”

  “Ach, not working exactly.” His hand was arrested on the point of extinguishing the battery-powered lamp that stood on the workbench. “Just clearing up a little. What brings you out here?”

  “Joseph. He won’t settle down and go to bed. He wants to look at the records.”

  “He thinks I won’t keep up with the paperwork, that’s all.” Samuel grinned, shaking his head. “And he’d be right about that. But should Joseph be taxing his eyes with figures?”

  “Probably not, but he’s past being sensible. Maybe if he sees for himself, he’ll be content to go to bed where he belongs.”

  “Stubborn, that’s what he is.” Samuel pulled a dark green ledger from a shelf. “I will go in with you, if that is all right, and tell him everything is under control. He might believe it.”

  “I hope so.” She waited in the doorway while he turned off the lantern and joined her. “Is everything under control?”

  Samuel didn’t speak for a moment, his face somber in the dimming light. “I’m not so gut as Joseph is at the work. Nor so fast. I’m thinking I should maybe send the gelding back to Mr. Bartlett. I’m not going to have time for him and the shop as well.”

&nbs
p; “You can’t do that.” The words were out before Anna thought about them. “The horses mean so much to you. You can’t give that up. I mean, I’m sure Joseph wouldn’t want you to do that,” she added hastily.

  “Denke, Anna.” He stared across the fields toward his barn, as if longing to be there now. “But I can’t let Joseph down when he needs me.”

  “I guess not.” She couldn’t argue with that. “Why not wait a few days before you do anything? Let things settle down a little before you make a decision.”

  “You give gut advice,” Samuel said, smiling. “I’ll think on that. Wait and see how Joseph is after he’s had some rest.”

  “Rest is exactly what he needs. Even the trip home tired him. He should have been in bed hours ago, but he wouldn’t go while people were here.”

  “Maybe he enjoyed the company after a week in the hospital.”

  “If it were me, I’d rather be alone.”

  He tilted his head, eyes crinkling. “Myra had a cat when she was little. Foolish creature tangled with a groundhog and came out the worse. The cat crawled under the barn to nurse its wounds, and Myra cried herself sick until I went in after it. I was bleeding worse than the cat by the time I got it out.”

  Anna found she was laughing as they reached the porch. “That’s me, all right. Don’t come near if you don’t want to be scratched.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” He took a step toward the porch.

  Anna caught his arm to stop him, and he instantly turned to her.

  “Just one thing before we go in . . .” She should mind her own business, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Remember what I said. Don’t give up on the horse unless there’s no other way.”

  He stood still, his gaze fixed on her face. “Denke, Anna.” His voice was soft, his head tilting so that they were very close in the quiet evening. She felt the corded muscles of his arm, strong under her hand, his skin warm against her palm.

  Her breath caught. His eyes seemed to darken, but maybe that was a trick of the light. The moment stretched between them, as fragile as glass.

  Then he was turning to the house. “Maybe we’d best go in.”

  She nodded, moving quickly up the three steps to the porch and across it to the door. They’d better, before she let herself be so silly as to imagine she felt something for Samuel.

  He followed her into the living room. Myra stood next to Joseph, her hand on his arm. “Komm now, to bed. The books will wait until tomorrow, ain’t so?”

  “Ja,” Samuel said quickly. “There’s nothing here for you to do tonight. Get some rest, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  Joseph shook off his wife’s hand, frowning either from headache or frustration. “Everyone should just stop telling me what to do. I’m fine.”

  Myra looked at Anna—the wordless exchange of mothers who know the signs of overtiredness in young children. The sensation of understanding and being understood jolted her, coming so close on that moment outside with Samuel. A flicker of panic went through her. She didn’t want to be fitting in here. She didn’t belong here any longer.

  Without a word, Samuel handed Joseph the ledger. Joseph opened it, stared at the page for a moment, and then slammed it shut, pressing a hand to his forehead.

  “Useless,” he muttered. “I’m useless. I can’t even see the page to keep the books for you. What gut am I like this?”

  Samuel’s face tightened, a muscle twitching next to his lips. Anna knew what he was going to say, and she was helpless to stop him.

  “I can handle the business until you are well. You must not fret over it. I’ll send the gelding back to the Englischer so I can concentrate on the shop.”

  A protest rose to her lips, but she stifled it. This wasn’t her business, remember?

  “Oh, Samuel, you mustn’t do that.” Myra’s face puckered. Poor Myra was on the verge of tears, worn out by her worries for Joseph and her fears about her pregnancy.

  “Myra . . .” Anna wasn’t sure what she intended to say, but she didn’t get a chance.

  “That is enough.” Daad’s voice was quiet, but it carried a firmness that wouldn’t be denied, reminding them that he was the authority in the family. He rose from the rocking chair where he’d been sitting, watching them all. “Joseph, you are too tired to be thinking about the business. Your job now is to rest and get well so that you can care for your wife and family.”

  For an instant Joseph looked mulish, but then his gaze fell, and he nodded. “Ja, Daadi.”

  “There is no need for Samuel to give up his work with the horses. I have spoken to Daniel and Leah. Their boy Matthew will come every day, starting tomorrow, to work in the shop. I also will help. If more is needed, Mahlon can come in the evenings. Anna can take over the book work. She is gut with that.”

  He was telling them what to do without the least doubt that they would obey. For an instant the old rebellion flared in her.

  She slammed the door on it. She was a woman grown, not a heedless teenager. If she expected the family to take her and Gracie in, she had to do her part.

  “Ja, Daadi,” she said.

  “Komm now.” Daadi took Joseph’s arm, and Samuel moved quickly to his other side. “It is past time you were in bed.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Samuel led Bartlett’s gelding toward the ring he used for training. He hadn’t expected to have time to work with the animal today, sure that despite what Elias Beiler said, he’d have to give up training the animal until Joseph was well again.

  That would mean giving up entirely, he was sure. The little he’d seen of Bartlett had suggested the man wasn’t endowed with much patience. If Samuel couldn’t do the work on his time-table, he’d find someone else.

  But to Samuel’s surprise, by three in the afternoon he and young Matthew had gotten through the day’s work, and with a bit of assistance from Elias, they’d begun to catch up on tasks that he’d let slide while Joseph had been in the hospital.

  Matthew was keen on anything mechanical—that was certain-sure. Daniel was going to end up being disappointed in his wish to see the boy a farmer. There wasn’t much point in arguing with a God-given gift. Probably the younger son would be the farmer in the family.

  So the burden of the shop had eased, but another had come to take its place. Samuel couldn’t stop thinking about those moments with Anna last night.

  They’d been talking, that was all, just being friendly. He’d even been thinking what a relief it was that Anna was talking to him as she might to a brother, instead of an enemy.

  Then she had put her hand on his arm, and he’d looked into her eyes, and he’d felt as if the world were not steady under his feet. He’d gone on one of those carnival rides once, when he was a teenager, where the floor suddenly went out from under you. It had been like that—confusing and exciting all at the same time.

  His life wasn’t a carnival ride, and he wasn’t looking to make a commitment to anyone. Maybe he never would be. The thought of his father sent coldness through him. So he had to show Anna that he wanted to be her friend. Nothing less, but nothing more, either.

  It was about time to show Star that he wanted to be friends, too. He led the animal to the center of the ring and stopped, unclipping the lead line and holding him by the halter. Star was getting to know him now, and he consented to having his forehead rubbed.

  Talking softly all the while, he let go of the halter and walked around the animal. Star’s ears moved toward him, his eyes watching Samuel warily.

  When he’d gotten behind him, he flicked the line lightly toward Star’s rump. The gelding’s head jerked up, the whites of his eyes showing, and he trotted toward the fence. Another flick of the rope sent him cantering around the ring.

  Samuel kept his gaze on the horse, turning to face him as Star circled, flicking the rope occasionally to keep him moving. The animal had beautiful conformation and a smooth, fluid gait. Mr. Bartlett had chosen well when he bought him.

  But something or someo
ne had made the horse cautious, even afraid of humans. Samuel had asked around, knowing the interest horsemen had in other people’s animals. Word was that Bartlett had been ready to give up on the animal before he’d shown up here. A pity that would have been to let one person’s mistake ruin such a fine animal.

  Samuel was barely aware of time passing as he worked the horse, first in one direction, then in the other. When Star finally began showing signs that he wanted to stop, Samuel coiled up the line, turning away from the horse as if losing interest.

  His senses alert, he waited to see what the animal would do. Was he ready to extend some trust? Star took a few steps toward him, head down. Then a few more. Finally he nudged Samuel’s shoulder with his nose.

  Pleasure welled up in Samuel as he turned toward the horse, giving him a strong rub on the forehead. “You are a fine boy, you are.”

  He walked away a few steps. Sure enough, the gelding followed him. He circled to the right, letting Star follow, until he was facing Joseph and Myra’s place. And stopped. Anna stood there, watching him.

  The surge of pleasure he felt at seeing her was even stronger than his pleasure with the horse—strong enough to remind him of his decision. He must show Anna that he wanted to be her friend, nothing else. He couldn’t let her feel awkward with him because of a moment’s unguarded attraction. He also couldn’t let her think there was anything more between them.

  He walked toward her, the gelding following him. “I’m sorry,” he said as he reached the fence. “I did not realize you were here.”

  “I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were working.” She was staring at Star, who had stopped a few feet away from the fence, eyeing Anna much as she did him. “Is this the same animal that was so skittish the last time I saw him?”

  “He’s settled down.”

  “You mean you’ve settled him down. I watched you working with him. That’s amazing.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing so special about it—it just takes patience and gentleness.”

  “If that was all, anyone could do it. I’ve never seen a horse bond with a person so fast.”