by Marta Perry
The swing back into dangerous territory took him off guard. He cleared his throat. If he were the kind of man who could think quickly on his feet, he might come up with an answer for her. Instead he could only sit there, feeling like a dumb animal.
Rachel’s eyebrows lifted in a mute repeat of the question. He couldn’t evade an answer.
“No. You wouldn’t.”
She made a pushing away motion with her hands and started to turn. And he knew that he couldn’t let her reject this.
He slid from the desk and caught her arm, turning her back to face him, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her sleeve.
“Stop, Rachel. Think this through. If I had been building the windmill for Ezra, like I offered to do several times, would I have expected to charge him the same as I’d charge a stranger?”
She kept her gaze stubbornly averted from his. “We’re not talking about Ezra.”
He stifled the urge to give her a gentle shake. “Answer the question. Would I?”
“No.” She glared at him. “But that’s different.”
“How is it different?” He would not repeat all the things he’d already said. If she didn’t understand the reason behind his need to help her by now, she probably never would.
“It . . . it just is.” For a moment confusion clouded the clear blue of her eyes. “You’re trying to put me in the wrong. That I don’t like. It is different, and you know it. Ezra was able to help you out with things, just as you helped him. I can’t.”
Anger flicked him. “Are you saying that my friendship with him was some kind of business arrangement? That we’d do for each other only because we’d get paid back?”
That got through to her. “No. Of course I’m not saying that. It’s just that . . .” Her voice trailed off. For once, it seemed, Rachel could think of no argument to make.
“Bear one another’s burdens,” he quoted softly. “If Ezra had come away from the accident injured, I would have done his work gladly. Since he didn’t come away at all, how much more must I want to help? Would you deprive me of that?”
“You are right. I know that.” But still, her gaze was troubled. “But building the windmills is your business. You’re probably losing someone else’s business while you’re building mine, ain’t so?”
“Ach, I’m sure I’m losing a wonderful heap of business.” Relief that she seemed to be accepting his words brought a smile to his face.
“Well, you might be.”
“Listen to me, Rachel Brand. I would do it anyway. You know that. But it’s a gut thing that I can work on your windmill at my own pace.” He slapped his bad leg. “This still isn’t as strong as it should be. Anyone else might expect me to be going full speed. You don’t seem to mind if I take a day off now and again.”
“No.” She returned the smile. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Are we all right now about this?”
“Maybe I overreacted a little bit.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t like the feeling that other people are making plans for me behind my back. Talking about my business, like you and Johnny did.”
“I explained about that.” Would she never let it go? “I just ran into him at—”
His mind went blank. Where might Johnny have said they’d run into each other, when they’d actually met at the home of one of her brother’s friends?
Suspicion tightened Rachel’s lips. “Were you lying to me about meeting my brother then, Gideon Zook? Because if you were, you’d best tell me the truth of it right now.”
“I . . . Maybe you should ask Johnny that.” That was a feeble answer, and he knew it. How had he managed to get himself into such a pickle, anyway? Because Rachel was one stubborn woman, that was how.
“I will ask my brother.” The anger that flared in her eyes didn’t bode well for John. “Right now I’m asking you, and I’m expecting a truthful answer.”
“All right. The truth of it is that I have seen Johnny. Several times over the past month. Sometimes at the clinic, sometimes at the home of a friend of his.”
Was it only his imagination that she’d paled? He didn’t think so, and he blamed himself for it.
“Why?” Her breath seemed to catch on the word. “Why, Gideon? Why have you been meeting with my brother behind my back? Why didn’t you come right out and tell me, whatever it is?”
“Because you’re too stubborn, that’s why.” It was a relief to feel a bit of anger at her. “You didn’t want to let me help you, even when you needed it. You wouldn’t accept help from your brother, either.”
She was definitely paler. “You know the reason for that, just as well as I do. Johnny is under the bann.”
“I know.” His voice gentled. This wasn’t easy for her, and probably Johnny, with that stubborn streak that matched hers, hadn’t made it any easier. “But Johnny’s not coming back, no matter what. And he had to find a way to help you. There has to be a way to help those we love.”
Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together. “What did you do, the two of you?”
“Johnny wanted to help. I wanted to help. Bishop Mose wanted to help. So I was the go-between for Johnny and Bishop Mose.”
She looked horrified. “You don’t mean—that money that Bishop Mose insisted on lending me for the windmill—he never took it from Johnny. He wouldn’t.”
“No, no, he wouldn’t.” That had been a tricky negotiation, and he had no intention of telling her just how tricky, trying to satisfy Johnny’s pride and Bishop Mose’s need to stay on the right side of the Ordnung. “Bishop Mose wanted to put up all the money himself. But Johnny—”
Rachel gave the slightest nod. Well, she had to know how stubborn and prideful her twin could be.
“The end of it was that the clinic threw some extra work Bishop Mose’s way.” He put up a hand to block her protest. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between Johnny and the folks at the clinic, and I’m not planning to ask. If the bishop is satisfied, I am. And so should you be, if you have any sense.”
She opened her mouth and then shut it again. “You’ve left me without anything to say.”
“That’s a relief.” He tried a smile. “You shouldn’t be angry with kindness, Rachel. Be angry with us for not telling you, if you want, but don’t be angry because people love you and want to help you.”
“All right.” Her giving-in was hardly more than a whisper. “I won’t be.”
• • •
“I’m here.” Rachel maneuvered the folded-up quilting frame through the back door at Leah and Daniel’s farmhouse. “Leah? I’ve brought the quilting frame.”
Leah came through from the living room, skirting carefully around the kitchen table. “I’ll help you with that.”
“No, you will not.” She pulled the frame away from Leah’s hands. “Tell me where to put this. And then tell me how you’re feeling. Are there any signs that this babe plans to arrive before tomorrow’s quilting?”
“I wish there were.” Leah crinkled her nose, half-laughing, half-serious. “Well, not really, I suppose. Everyone is looking forward to the quilting, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
“We’d all understand how that feels, having been through those last weeks of being pregnant ourselves.” Rachel followed her into the living room and set the frame where she indicated.
Leah grasped one side, helping her to snap the legs into place. “This is such a nice frame. I love how it folds up. If I actually did as much quilting as my mamm, I’d want one like it.”
“It is nice.” Rachel ran her hand along the side pole nearest her. “Ezra put it together from a kit, he did.” He’d been so pleased with how it turned out that she seemed to see his smile each time she used it. “I shortened the poles to sixty inches for the crib quilt.”
&nbs
p; “Ser gut. Using two frames will be faster and easier, I think.” Leah lowered herself into a rocking chair. At nine months’ pregnant, she was ready to sit every chance she got.
Several feet away, another frame occupied one corner of the room. “I see you have your mamm’s frame up already, ja?”
Leah nodded, rocking a little. “Daniel and Daadi set it up last night. They’re willing enough to help get things ready for the quilting, but they’re both planning to make themselves scarce while the work is going on.”
“Gut. We don’t want them listening in on our conversation. They might blush.” Rachel brushed her hands together, not that there had been any dust on the quilt frame. “I’ll just go and bring in the food I brought for tomorrow.”
“I’ll help—”
“You’ll sit still.” Rachel bent to press her cheek against Leah’s. “You’re supposed to be staying off your feet, remember?”
Leah’s lips curled upward. “How can I forget, the way everyone keeps reminding me? Anyway, the midwife says it’s not so crucial, now that I’m about full-term.”
“Rest anyway. I’ll put things in the kitchen, and then we can set up the quilts and get ready for tomorrow.”
“Gut. We’ll have a chance to talk while we do that.”
The wistful note in Leah’s voice registered, and guilt trickled through Rachel. She hadn’t spent near enough time with Leah this past week. And even now, when she was here, her mind skittered off like a waterbug to all the other things she had to do.
“As much talk as you have energy for.” She gave Leah a quick hug. “I’ll be right back.”
Two more trips to the buggy, and she’d brought in everything she’d prepared for the quilting—the pieced tops for the baby quilts, several loaves of banana nut bread, a huge tin of jumble cookies that her mamm had made, and a couple jars of strawberry preserves.
Plenty more food would arrive tomorrow. Every woman who came would bring something, so there’d be lots left for Leah’s family to enjoy, for sure.
She carried the quilt tops, wrapped in clean sheets to protect them, into the living room and laid them on the table, then got out the backing pieces and her pincushion.
“You have to let me help with this, at least.” Leah levered herself out of the chair with her arms, sighing a little. “I feel as if I need a crane to get me up and down these days.”
“Give it a little time, and you’ll be feeling as if you need one to pry your eyes open.” Rachel spread the backing piece for one quilt carefully over the frame, stretching it firm, and then began to pin.
Leah took a handful of pins and started on the opposite side. “We’ve done a lot of things together over the years, but I never thought we’d be doing this for a babe of mine.”
Heart full, Rachel touched Leah’s hand. “It’s wonderful gut to share the excitement of the boppli coming along.”
“You never expected it to happen either.” Teasing filled Leah’s voice. “Admit it, now. You thought I was destined to be a maidal forever.”
“That’s not true.” Although it had seemed, at times, as if Leah had been almost too content with her single life. “I’m the one who pushed you toward Daniel, remember?”
“You and the rest of the church.” Leah ran her hand down over her belly in a caressing movement. “I don’t regret it now, but there were certainly times when I wished everyone would mind their own business instead of mine.”
“I know just what you mean.” The words had brought Rachel’s concerns about Gideon and Johnny back to the fore, not that they were ever far from her mind. “There’s something—”
She hesitated. But if she couldn’t talk to Leah about this or anything else, then the world had turned upside-down already.
“Something that’s worrying you?” Leah caught her mood instantly. “Tell me.”
“I’m maybe being foolish about it.”
She unfolded the batting piece and spread it over the backing. Was she? She just couldn’t decide. She’d told Gideon she wouldn’t argue with him about it, but it seemed she couldn’t stop arguing with herself.
“You’ll feel the better for talking, then.” Leah slid a pin through the batting. “Out with it.”
Rachel nodded, concentrating on lining the batting edge up perfectly. “You know about Bishop Mose lending me the money to pay Gideon for the new windmill, already. Well, for one thing, I got Gideon to admit that he’s not charging me full price for it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Leah’s voice was firm. “Rachel Brand, if that’s what’s bothering you, you’re foolish indeed. Gideon was Ezra’s closest friend. Naturally he wouldn’t expect the same amount from you as he would someone he doesn’t even know.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Well, he’s right.”
“But he told me something else—” She sent Leah a troubled look. “You must agree not to say anything of this to anyone.”
The laughter faded from Leah’s face. “Of course.”
“Somehow Gideon got together with Johnny. I don’t know how, exactly. And they hatched a . . . a plot, that’s what it was. And Bishop Mose went in on it.” She still found that hard to believe. “Gideon says that Johnny’s clinic is throwing extra work to the harness shop. It’s all a way of letting Johnny help out, even though they won’t admit that.”
“What did Gideon say when you told him that?”
“That he didn’t know what the arrangements were, and that if Bishop Mose was satisfied, then I should be, as well.”
Leah was quiet for a moment, as if absorbing it all. “Gideon gave you gut advice. I think you should take it.”
“But—”
Leah shook her head, lines crinkling around her green eyes. “Rachel, no buts about it. Bishop Mose would not do anything wrong. And besides, we both know that’s not what you’re fussed about anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re annoyed at all of them for going behind your back and trying to help you. That you’re so bent on providing for the children yourself that you think no one else can do anything.”
“If it was you—”
“If it was me, I’d maybe make the same mistake. But I hope I could count on a gut friend who’d point it out to me.”
Rachel was still for a moment, absorbing Leah’s words. Was she being prideful, holding back from accepting the love and help others wanted to share?
“You should accept all the support you’re offered,” Leah said. “All of it.”
Something—some note in Leah’s familiar voice—sounded an alarm in her. She knew Leah so well. She knew when something was being left unsaid.
“What, Leah?” She reached across the frame to catch Leah’s hand and hold it tightly. “You’re thinking of something beyond this. I can tell.”
Leah’s lips pressed together tightly, as if she’d hold the words back. “I wasn’t sure whether I’d tell you this or not. It’s just gossip, when it comes right down to it, and maybe nothing behind it at all except someone’s imagination embroidering what was said.”
A cold compress seemed to press against the back of Rachel’s neck, dripping its chill down her spine. “I’d still rather hear it, whatever it is.”
“Daniel heard it when he went to the farrier’s to have the horses reshod this morning. Some of the men were talking. You know how they linger there and gossip, even though they insist that it’s only women who do that.”
Rachel could picture the scene well enough, the men leaning against wagons, watching the shoeing, exchanging all the news of the day. She’d never expected that she’d be the subject of their talk.
“Just tell me, Leah.”
“It maybe means nothing at all.” Reluctance dragged at Leah’s words. “But they were saying that Isaac is furious about the idea that you migh
t be leasing the farm to an Englischer, instead of selling it to him for Caleb.”
Rachel’s tension eased. If that was all it was— “I already knew Isaac was angry about that, but I haven’t made a decision yet. I’m thinking on what Mr. Carver said, that’s all.”
“The talk is that Isaac isn’t willing to wait for your decision.” Leah took a breath, seeming to push the words out. “They’re saying that he’s going to the bishop and the ministers with a complaint about your conduct.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rachel worried at it all the way back to her parents’ place to pick up Mary. Leah had continued to reassure her, repeating that it was rumor, nothing more. And even if Isaac had said that in a fit of temper, he might easily have changed his mind once he’d calmed down. And even if he did complain about her . . .
Rachel’s mind refused to go there. Leah could say that she should present her own argument to the elders. That they would understand if she explained it to them.
Leah was braver than she was, for sure. Leah, with her years of teaching behind her, had a self-possession and ability to express herself that Rachel would never achieve, no matter how she tried.
If it came to an open conflict, Rachel knew perfectly well what would happen. She’d give in, restoring peace and harmony to the church.
The English world wouldn’t understand that. It seemed to be built on competition, and even Johnny had been influenced by that, talking about doing better than a colleague to compete for a position.
Things were not like that among the Leit, the Amish people. Cooperation was valued, not competition. She would give up what she wanted rather than cause a rift in the family that was the church.
She turned into the lane and slowed the horse to a walk as they approached the house. Daadi was at the edge of the garden, in conversation with Jacob Esh, the son of his second cousin. Jacob, just a year out of school, was working the farm with Daad, learning as he earned a bit of money. At the moment he was plowing the garden, and he looked as if Daad was giving him a bit more advice than he thought he needed.