At Home in Pleasant Valley

by Marta Perry

  She bundled the English clothes into a pillowcase and stuffed it into the bottom of the chest of drawers. Then she hurried back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

  She peered through the glass of the door to the back porch. A tall form emerged from the darker shadows of the lilac bush.

  She opened the door and beckoned to him. “Come into the kitchen,” she whispered. They’d been wonderful lucky already, and she didn’t want to risk rousing the house when they were so near done.

  She was aware of him behind her, a tall, silent shape that sprang to life when she turned up the gas light in the kitchen, thankful that the windows faced away from the main house.

  She took her time turning toward him, not eager to hear his disapproval of Anna and her behavior. But when she looked up at him, she didn’t see anything but concern in his expression.

  “I don’t know how to tell you how much this means,” she began, but Daniel shook his head.

  “It makes no trouble,” he said, his voice low, as if the silence around them impelled him to be quiet even if no one could hear. “I cleaned up the buggy as best I could without drawing any attention to the stable.”

  “There was no damage?”

  “None that I could see. I don’t think anyone will notice that anything happened.” He fell silent, but he looked at her steadily, as if waiting.

  Waiting to hear what she would do. He was willing to let her handle it, it seemed, but he probably doubted her ability.

  Well, fair enough. She doubted it, too.

  “I talked to my daad about Anna.” She pulled the shawl tighter around her, needing its warmth. “I hated to burden him, but I couldn’t take the responsibility on myself any longer.”

  “You did the right thing, Leah.” His response was quick and comforting.

  Her fingers tightened on the soft fabric of the shawl. “Did I? I hoped it would make a difference—that Anna would change once Daad talked to her. And then she goes and does something ferhoodled like this.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought to blink them back.

  Daniel took a step closer, his hand going out to encircle hers. His grip warmed and comforted her. “As much as you love your sister, you can’t take the responsibility of trying to be her mamm.”

  She resisted the impulse to lean on his strength. “There are so many years between us—by the time another girl baby came along, I was old enough to be the little mother to her. I guess I still feel that way.”

  “That’s only natural. And with your mamm’s sickness, you’ve tried your best to spare her from worry.”

  “Right now I don’t feel as if I’ve done a very gut job.”

  His fingers smoothed the skin on the back of her hand, as if he gentled one of the children with his touch. “You’ve done your best. Anna is old enough now to bear the consequences of her actions herself.”

  Leah looked up, very aware of how close he was. “Yet you were ready to help me cover for her.”

  “I was.” He looked a little surprised at his own actions. “There seemed no need to let your brother and sister-in-law in on it. Besides, I owe you.”

  “Owe me? If you’re talking about Elizabeth, I just encouraged her to talk.”

  He shook his head. “Elizabeth, but not only her. There’s Matthew, too.”

  “What about Matthew?” Much as she’d like to help Matthew adjust to his new life, she couldn’t see that she’d done much there.

  “Things came to a bit of a head with the boy.” He looked down at their clasped hands, but he seemed to be seeing something else. “I felt—well, I almost reacted the wrong way, but I thought about what you would do and say. That you’d say it was better to listen, no matter how hard it was to hear what my son had to say.”

  “And you did?” She had trouble concentrating on his words, too aware of the way his fingers traced circles on the back of her hand.

  “Ja.” His brows drew together. “It wasn’t easy to hear, for sure. Matthew— I guess he thought I didn’t care for the children enough to fight to get them back.”

  Her heart clenched with pain for him. “He must know you love them. Deep inside, I’m sure all three of them have no doubt about that.” Now it was her turn to want to comfort him.

  His fingers tightened on hers. “I hope so. If I should lose them again—”

  That was the fear in his heart, she realized. Deep down, what terrified him was the thought that once his children were old enough to choose, they’d leave.

  She clasped his hand in both of hers, hoping he could feel her caring. “It will be all right. They’re doing better all the time, really they are.”

  “Because of you.”

  Their fingers entangled, and Leah’s breath hitched at the sudden passion in his voice. “I haven’t done much.”

  “You’ve understood. And you’ve made me see how much they need a mother.”

  Her heart was thudding so loudly that she could hear it, beating in her ears. A step would close the distance between them. A word of encouragement, and Daniel would propose. She could almost hear the words, and panic flooded her.

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t let him take such an irrevocable step, not when she wasn’t ready to give him an answer.

  She took a cautious breath and then a deliberate step back. “The children are very dear to me.” She loosed her hands, and he let her go instantly. “But it is late now, and I should check on Anna.”

  “It is late. I must go.” But his gaze held hers for a long moment, and the unspoken question seemed to sizzle in the air between them.

  He hesitated a moment longer. Then he nodded and went quickly out.

  • • •

  Leah glanced across the crowded kitchen at Rachel’s house. The group of women had been there since five this morning, making sandwiches for a hoagie sale to help with medical costs for Naomi Miller’s children.

  The volume of chatter continued unabated, as it had since before sunrise. White kapps fluttered like so many birds in flight around the long tables that had been set up in the farmhouse kitchen. In all that time, Anna had managed never to look at her.

  It had been that way for the entire uncomfortable week. Daad had been upset to hear what Leah had had to say, Anna had avoided speaking to her, and she had been haunted by the memory of what had nearly happened between her and Daniel.

  Mamm handed her a hoagie. She rolled it in wax paper and secured it with tape, then added it to the waiting cooler. She stole a glance at her mother’s face. It was as serene as ever, her eyes intent upon her task.

  At least Mamm didn’t know about any of it, so there was nothing to worry her. Daadi had decided that the situation with Anna was best handled by him. And she certainly hadn’t confided her thoughts about Daniel to anyone.

  “Anna has been very quiet today.”

  That jerked Leah’s gaze back to her mother. Was there a concern hidden in that comment? Or was it her own sense of guilt at keeping something from Mamm that made her feel so?

  “Is she?” She wrapped the next hoagie. “She’s been busy, I guess.” She managed a smile. “And she’s not at her best in the morning, is she?”

  Mamm shook her head, smiling a little. “Remember how hard it was to get her out of bed when she was little? That must be it.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I wish it was.

  Mamm sighed a little. “I’d like it fine if she’d just settle down to one sweetheart.” She lowered her voice under the chatter of women around them. “Do you think she likes Jonas Stoltzfus?”

  “I’m afraid she finds Jonas a little—well, too settled and serious for her.” Actually, Anna had said that Jonas was as dull as dishwater, which didn’t say much for Mamm’s matchmaking hopes.

  “Settled and serious are good things in a husband. Anna’s trouble is that she doesn’
t think about what her life will be like a few years down the road, when she has a home and children to care for.”

  “Maybe in a year or two she’ll start looking at it that way.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s time already for her to think of something besides running with her friends.” Mamm used a table knife to stuff the sandwich filling into the roll a little more emphatically than was necessary. “A girl her age should be thinking of marriage.”

  It looked as if Mamm had been worrying about Anna despite all their efforts to shield her. “She might be waiting to fall in love first.”

  Anna’s words echoed in Leah’s mind. Anna already thought she might be in love with that English boy.

  “Falling in love is wonderful gut, but it’s not everything.” Mamm’s expression grew reminiscent. “Your father and I didn’t really understand what love was until we’d been married a few years and gone through some trials together.”

  “You and Daadi are special. Anna—well, Anna doesn’t think of marriage that way.”

  “And what about you, Leah?” Her mother’s gaze probed, seeming to peel away the layers of her protection. “A gut marriage can be made without starting out as boy-and-girl sweethearts.”

  She could feel her cheeks growing warm. How much did Mamm know, or guess, about Daniel and her? “I . . . I don’t . . .”

  “It’s all right.” Mamm pressed her hand. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, daughter. But think about it. Listen for God’s guidance.”

  “I will.” That she could promise, and it seemed to content her mother. She turned back to the sandwiches with a satisfied look.

  How could her mother know what had nearly happened between her and Daniel that night? She couldn’t, that was all. But Mamm seemed to have an extra sense where her daughters were concerned.

  It was fairly obvious what her mother thought she should do. She herself wasn’t so sure.

  She’d gone over and over every word, every gesture. Sometimes she’d almost convince herself that she was imagining things, but then she’d remember the warmth of Daniel’s gaze, the strength of his hands, and she’d be convinced again that she’d been right.

  Daniel Glick would propose to her if she gave him the slightest encouragement. And she didn’t have the faintest idea what she should do.

  She’d decided, after Johnny left, that marriage wasn’t for her, and she’d been content with that decision all these years. She hadn’t been able to love Johnny enough to have the courage to leave or the strength to convince him to stay. How could she think she could love Daniel enough to be a mother to his children and a wife to him?

  “Here is Daniel, come for his order,” Mamm said. “You fix it for him, Leah. I’m ready for some coffee.” She flitted away.

  Mamm wasn’t exactly being subtle. Leah could only hope Daniel would attribute her flushed cheeks to the warmth of the kitchen.

  Daniel stepped aside to let the Klopp boys hurry past him with the boxes of orders for the men who worked at Bishop Mose’s harness shop. Nodding and smiling to those he passed, he came straight to her table.

  “Rachel said you’d fill my order.” His smile grew warmer when he looked at her.

  “Ja, I have it here.” She pulled his slip from the pile and began to stack hoagies in a paper bag, trying to find something light to say to him. “You’re surely not going to eat all these yourself.”

  He shook his head, leaning against the table so that he was close to her. “Some of the brothers have come to help with the first cutting of hay today. Mamm wanted to cook for them, but she has enough to do with the children. And they’ll enjoy the sandwiches fine.”

  Since he didn’t have a wife to make the lunch. Was that a reminder of his need? He was watching her with such warmth in the deep blue of his eyes that she lost count of how many sandwiches she’d put in the bag and had to start again.

  “They’ll like these,” she said, rallying. “And the money goes to a good cause.”

  He nodded. “It’s a joy to help.”

  “Ja.” It was, wasn’t it? That was woven deeply into their way of life, the joy and satisfaction that came from helping your brothers and sisters whenever they had need. And knowing that, in turn, if you needed, they would be there.

  It was part of what she loved about being Amish, part of what made them belong to each other.

  Maybe, if she were Daniel’s wife, she’d lose this disturbing sense she had of never quite fitting. But was it fair to him to marry for a selfish reason?

  She glanced at Daniel, and their gazes met. Tangled.

  She took a strangled breath. The attraction was there, certain sure, even in the midst of a crowd. That was important to a marriage.

  But love?

  Daniel had given her the impression, through everything he said about his wife, that if he offered his hand, that didn’t mean he was offering his heart.

  Still, maybe that was for the best. Maybe, as Mamm had hinted, it was possible to build a good marriage anyway.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Leah had gone to her room after supper, saying she had to work on her reports. That was true, but a stronger reason was to get away from the tension she seemed to feel everywhere she went lately.

  The door opened before she had so much as looked at the first page. Anna stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

  The wave of gladness that swept through Leah was startling in its strength. Anna was ready to talk at last, and for a moment she dared hope that the old, easy relationship between them could be restored.

  Anna took an impetuous step toward her. “How can you possibly be friendly with that man?”

  It looked as if her hope had been a little premature. She tried to swallow her disappointment. “Come, sit down. If you’re talking about John Kile, I’ve told you already—”

  “Not John.” Anna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Daniel Glick. I saw how you two were talking this morning.”

  “Daniel.” She readjusted her thinking. “Why would you care if I’m friends with Daniel? I should think you’d be happy about it. Everyone else is busy trying to match us up.”

  “He fits right in with all the rest of the interfering busybodies.” Anna’s hands clenched against her skirt.

  “If you’re embarrassed because Daniel saw you . . .” She hesitated, not wanting to say the word. “. . . saw you the other night, you shouldn’t blame him.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” But Anna’s cheeks flushed slightly.

  Leah longed to grasp the clenching hands in hers, wanted to smooth away the hurt and shame that her little sister surely was feeling. But Anna wouldn’t accept comfort from her now, and maybe she needed plain talking more than she needed comfort.

  “I would say you owe Daniel your thanks. He found you, he helped you, and more than that, he kept silent about it.”

  “And now he can look down on me. I hate that he’s involved.”

  When she was six, Anna would have sat in the corner for talking that way. Leah felt her exasperation rising. It was a pity that wouldn’t work now.

  “You were the one who involved him,” she said flatly. “You got drunk, you drove into the wrong lane, you nearly ended up in the ditch. You should be on your knees thanking the Lord that it was Daniel who found you and not someone who’d be quick to spread the news all over the valley.”

  At last Anna’s gaze evaded hers. Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe,” she muttered. “But I still don’t see why you’re so close with him.”

  “I’ve helped with the children, as any neighbor would when there are motherless children.”

  Anna stared at her, eyes widening. “You’re not thinking— Leah, you can’t be thinking about marrying him just because his children need a mother!”

  Now it was her turn to glance away. “He hasn’t asked me,” she said, knowing sh
e was equivocating.

  “How could you think of it? To marry a man you don’t love—sometimes I think you don’t even know what love is.”

  The control Leah had been exercising suddenly slipped away from her. She clenched her hands to keep from grabbing her sister and shaking her.

  “And I suppose you know all about love at eighteen.”

  “More than you,” Anna snapped back. “I said it before, and it’s true. You don’t have any feelings at all.”

  Leah did grab her then, startling herself as much as she did Anna. Grasping her sister’s arms, she held her fast.

  “How would you know what feelings I have? You don’t spare a thought for anyone’s feelings but your own. I know what it is to love and to lose and to spend your days trying to hide the pain. I don’t need a child like you trying to give me lessons in what it is to love.”

  Anna stared at her for a moment, eyes wide in a white face. Then she jerked free and ran out of the room.

  • • •

  She might not feel at ease at the clinic, Leah decided, but at the moment, being here was better than being at home. She settled on a bench in the hallway, planning to go through her list of potential interviewees until her driver returned for her.

  But her hands lay idle on the sheet. The days since that dreadful scene with Anna had been so strained that even Barbara, occupied as she was with her pregnancy, the house, and the children, had noticed it. Unfortunately her well-meant attempts to interfere had only made things worse.

  Forgive me, Father. I sinned. I expressed anger with my sister instead of trying harder to help her. Now she won’t even speak to me, and I fear I’ve driven her away. Please, forgive me and show me how to help Anna.

  “Leah? Is something wrong?”

  It was a measure of her distraction that she hadn’t even heard Johnny approach. She shook her head, but the lump in her throat kept her from speech.

  “I can see—” He stopped when a woman came out of the waiting room, leading a small boy by the hand. He waited until they’d left, then held out his hand to Leah. “We can’t talk here. Come out to the back porch.”