“The emergency room?” Ivan made no attempt to hide the horror in his voice. “But the clinic in Millersburg was open all day. You could have gone there.”
Her face fell. “And how was I to harness Beauty to the buggy in my condition? I could barely get about the house today.”
“We’re not going to the emergency room.” His voice was firm. “I can’t afford it. And you could have called me at work from the phone shack. I would have come home and taken you to the clinic.”
“How was I to walk to the phone booth?” The tone of her voice revealed her attitude. “I guess you don’t care if I die in bed tonight.”
He hesitated. “You don’t look that sickly. I’ll fix you something to eat. You’ll feel better then.”
“I haven’t had anything since last night. I don’t think I can get and keep anything down.”
Ivan tried to feel sympathetic. “Come sit at the kitchen table, and I’ll fix something. Perhaps you can keep me from burning the house down.”
A trace of a smile played on her lips.
Ivan took Laura’s arm. Yah, she was weak. He could see and feel it as she leaned on him. Regardless, he wasn’t going to the emergency room. He’d go for the midwife first. The nerve of the woman—to entertain such fancy Englisha thoughts. As if they could afford such luxuries.
Laura groaned. “Maybe some cottage cheese and red beets. That’s what would sit well on my stomach.”
“I’ll get some from the basement.” He helped her to a kitchen chair.
Laura’s voice stopped him halfway to the basement door. “There aren’t any red beets down there, and all the cottage cheese is gone since last night.”
He stopped midstride as visions of his mamm’s well-laden basement shelves formed in his mind. Red beets were a staple of any Amish home. How could the woman not have any? Hadn’t she canned last summer?
“I didn’t bring any along from Mamm’s,” Laura said, as if she’d read his thoughts. “And store-bought ones aren’t the same. Haven’t you noticed I’ve been making do without?”
A retort died in his mouth. What was the use? This conversation would go in circles all night. Laura would no doubt want credit for the money she’d saved him by not buying store-bought red beets by the time it ended. She knew of his obsession with expenses, but she only played that card at her convenience. The emergency room! The nerve of the woman.
Laura looked up at him. “You can run over to my parents’ place. They’ll have both items, and Mamm will understand. She’s borne many children herself.”
“At this hour of the evening?”
“You don’t want to take me to the emergency room,” she pouted.
“Not when red beets and cottage cheese take care of the problem,” Ivan agreed. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry,” she said, her voice following him out the door.
Billy’s whinny greeted Ivan inside the barn, but he went to Beauty’s stall instead. After he’d wed Laura, he’d bought her this spirited buggy horse. She bobbed her head in protest when Ivan led her out of the stall. “I don’t want to go out on the road again,” he muttered. “But I have to, so you might as well get some exercise too. And I’m starved. At least you’ve had oats tonight.”
With the harness on, he hitched Beauty to the buggy and urged her out of the driveway. Ten minutes later he pulled into the Swartz family driveway and stopped by the hitching post. He’d come here often during his short courtship time with Laura. The months seemed years ago now. Thoughts of Miriam entered his mind. He wondered if she’d arrived safely back in Oklahoma, and whether Esther’s plans to derail the courtship had succeeded. Laura hadn’t said anything since Miriam had left, and she would have if Esther had been successful. Such news would have been shared, he was sure.
Ivan tied up Beauty and approached the front door. He knocked, not that he would have to—he was family now—but it felt like the right thing to do.
Laura’s mamm, Rachel answered the door with a smile. “Why, Ivan! What a surprise.”
“Laura isn’t feeling well tonight,” he mumbled.
“Oh?” Concern flashed on Rachel’s face. “The pre-baby blues?”
Ivan nodded. “Something like that. She wants red beets and cottage cheese.” A deep blush rushed up his neck, and Ivan rubbed his stubbly beard. Hopefully his facial hair had grown enough to hide his embarrassment. A man shouldn’t show his feelings like this.
Comprehension dawned on Rachel’s face. “Oh, I see. I went through that all the time myself. Why, with Esther I ate cabbage every night for two months—and that in the middle of the winter! Drove poor Peter to distraction, to say nothing of the money the stuff cost him at the grocery store.” Rachel waved Ivan on inside. “Do have a seat while I get the items. We’re eating supper right now. Do you, perhaps, want some?”
“No, I’d better hurry back,” Ivan said. Rich aromas drifted out from the kitchen while Ivan waited. His stomach growled, but he kept his seat. He wouldn’t humiliate himself further by the acceptance of a meal, but the thought of food left him weak.
Rachel reappeared moments later and handed him a heavy paper bag. “There, that will tide Laura over for a while.”
“Thanks.” Ivan hesitated as fresh odors drifted from the kitchen. Rachel must be serving fresh bread and pecan pies for supper. His mouth watered.
Rachel’s gaze followed his. “Do you want to say hi to the rest of the family at least? If you can’t stay for supper?”
“Just tell them to eat well.” Ivan forced a smile and hurried out the door. Back at the buggy, he glanced over his shoulder before he loosened the tie rope and tossed it under the buggy seat. He climbed in as visions of Rachel with her hands holding a plate of hot food, fresh bread, and pecan pie rushed through his mind. He should have accepted her offer that he stay for supper, but pride had prevented him.
Ivan drove Beauty out of the Swartz’s driveway and toward home. He was thinking that now he’d have to fix his own supper. With such bitter thoughts on his mind, Ivan pulled into his driveway, unhitched the horse, and led her to her stall. Beauty nickered, but Ivan didn’t offer her any oats. There was plenty of hay in the manger, and since he wasn’t eating that well himself, he had no sympathy for a horse’s appetite. Ivan had never mastered the art of cooking, so the evening wasn’t going to get any better. No man should have to acquire kitchen skills, he groused.
Laura was still sitting at the kitchen table when he walked in. She glanced at the bulging paper bag and a smile spread across her face. “I see Mamm set you up.”
“Of course.” The bitterness slipped out. “She’s not going to let her little girl starve.”
A pout spread over Laura’s face. “It’s not my fault I’m pregnant, you know.”
“Children are a blessing from the Lord,” he scolded. “You need to adjust your attitude, and perhaps you’d feel better.”
Laura ignored him and pulled out the red beets and cottage cheese, placing the jars on the table. “Can we pray, so I can eat?”
“Someone around here should pray!” he shot back.
“You don’t have to be so snippy, Ivan. I really am sick.”
“Morning sickness,” he snapped. “All women deal with that, and they don’t stay in bed all day.”
A scowl crossed her face. “That’s very unkind of you. I’m not feeling well.”
Ivan hesitated, and then he reached over and gave Laura a quick hug. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just that I’m hungry, and it’s late.”
“Then we should pray, and you can make yourself something.” Her face brightened. “I’ll be having supper ready for you again once I feel better.”
That didn’t sound like the near future, Ivan thought, but he bit back a response. Children were a blessing from the Lord, and one should expect trouble to arrive with them. But they would be worth every moment of sorrow, Ivan reminded himself. He should be ashamed of himself. He had no excuse to treat his frau like this even if he was hungry. Ivan
sat down and bowed in head in silent prayer. He couldn’t find the strength for words tonight, and he figured the Lord would understand.
When he lifted his head, Laura said, “I could use a plate and two forks, please. If you don’t mind?”
Moments later Ivan forced cheerfulness into his voice as he set down the requested items. “Here they are. Can I get you something else?”
“The mail perhaps?” she said.
Ivan wished he hadn’t asked, but here was a chance to straighten up his own attitude. He obviously needed the practice. “I’ll be right back.” Ivan hastened out the door and down the lane. He should have retrieved the mail on his trip back from the Swartz place, but he’d been too distracted. At the mailbox Ivan pulled out several advertisements from the feed company and a letter. Me, Esther, was written on the left-hand corner, along with an Oklahoma address. Ivan sighed. Esther’s capers were all he needed tonight. This couldn’t be helped either, unless he wanted to destroy the letter. The thought lingered in his mind. No, that wouldn’t be wise. Esther and Laura would eventually get their heads together and figure out the letter had been lost at his hand. He’d hear no end of the matter then.
When he walked into the house, Laura looked much better. Bits of cottage cheese still lay on her plate, and she’d just opened a red beet jar. His stomach turned at the combination, but he reminded himself he wasn’t the one who was pregnant.
He held out the letter. “From your sister.”
Laura gave a little yelp of excitement. “Just what I need to cheer me up at the end of a horrible day.”
Ivan puttered around the kitchen while Laura ate her red beets and read the letter. Supper would have to be eggs, he decided. Fried with toast. He couldn’t think of anything easier. He needed basic nourishment until better times arrived. The pan sizzled on the open flame.
Laura giggled. “This is so gut, Ivan. I have to read it to you.”
“Not that!” Ivan groaned. He didn’t want to think of Miriam again tonight.
Laura ignored him. “Esther got a kiss out of Wayne. Can you believe my sister? What a charmer. I do declare, she can outdo even me.”
“Esther kissed Wayne while Miriam was here in Possum Valley?” Shocked, Ivan held an egg in midair.
“That’s what I said.” Laura glowed. “Listen to this.”
Ivan’s protest died as Laura continued.
“I did my best, Laura, while I had the opportunity. And you know we discussed this before—how great a catch the man would be. I always thought so even while we lived out here. And it’s not my fault we weren’t dating when we left. In fact, we’d be married already if the matter was up to me. Look at me. My younger sister is married and expecting before I am. How did that happen?”
Ivan attempted a smile. “Really sweet, I’d say.”
Laura went back to the letter. “I turned on the charm all day at the church services, and I could see Wayne was weakening. Not that I expected him not to, but you don’t want too easy a victory. That would make the conquest of lesser value, don’t you think?” Laura paused for another glance at Ivan. He kept his attention on his four eggs now cooking in the pan. Laura went on. “After the hymn singing, I asked him a question and told him some of my troubles with Grandma. I followed Wayne out to his buggy. He didn’t protest, and I knew I was well on my way. We kissed by the time things were over. Oh, it was delightful, Laura! I always knew the man was a keeper and well worth the hard work. And get this, his conscience kicked in right away. He said he was sorry, and that this could never happen again. Now isn’t that a testimony to the man’s character? I told him I understood, but you know how it will go. I’ll have him in a few months, and Miriam will be history. Oh, if only there had been another week to work on the man. Miriam would have returned to find herself without a boyfriend.” Laura glanced up at Ivan. “Now isn’t that a lovely story? That was what I needed. An inspirational shot in the arm.”
What about Miriam? Ivan wanted to ask. But that was a question a little late for him. He hoped that Miriam would win the match this time. The girl didn’t deserve to have her heart broken twice.
Chapter Nineteen
Lee glanced at Shirley. “Are you going with us tonight?”
For a moment Shirley didn’t answer. When she’d gone with Lee and Mark the last time, it had been hard on her—staying in the shadows, listening to all the others having the fun she used to enjoy before…before the accident. But then she’d met that kind man, Glen Weaver. Would he be there again? Would he speak with her? Or was he just being polite last time and would avoid her at all costs if he saw her again?
“I think I’ll stay home.” Shirley kept the tremble out of her voice.
“You’d better come.” Lee’s voice was resolute. “The last time did you a lot of gut.”
Yah, it had, she supposed, shadows and all. And yah, she should venture out of the house more often—even with the embarrassment that someone might see her and comment about her face. With her low spirits, Daett wouldn’t object to her continuing to venture into a more normal rumspringa time. Anything was better to Daett than Jonas Beachy.
“We’re leaving, so you’d better decide quick,” Lee said. He left by the washroom door without a backward glance. Mark was already outside, so Shirley hurried toward the stair door to go to her room to make a quick change of clothes. Yah, she would go.
“Be nice to your brothers.” Mamm looked up from her rocker. “That was really decent of Lee to offer.”
“Yah, I know.” Shirley held back the sting of tears as she went up the steps. What a change this was from even a few weeks ago. Her family now huddled over her like a warm quilt. They meant well, and she was grateful, but the extra attention was hard. Perhaps this was part of the lesson she was supposed to learn from the accident—how to accept the kindness of others.
Shirley changed quickly and avoided glancing in the mirror. Her face was the last thing she wished to see right now. She pulled off her kapp, and covered her head with a handkerchief. On evenings like this…not that long ago…she wouldn’t have been able to wait to uncover her head when she got into Jonas’s convertible and let her hair down. But there would be none of that tonight. Her wild side seemed to have flown far away. She didn’t want Lee or Mark to see her with her hair blown over her face. They agreed with such actions during rumspringa—at least in principle. And they saw their sisters around the house with their hair down all the time. But not in public. She didn’t need to experience their shocked expressions or exclamations with her bruised feelings so near the surface. Shirley tightened the handkerchief ends before she hurried back down the stairs. Mamm gave her a warm smile but said nothing as Shirley dashed past her and went outside.
A misty rain greeted her, and Shirley retreated into the washroom for her coat. She’d been too wrapped up in her own world to notice the change in weather. The rain suited her spirits. She’d cry right along with the skies. Her whole world lay in ruins, so this was appropriate.
“You don’t have to hurry so much,” Mark told Shirley when she reached the buggy. “We would have waited for you.”
“I know you would have.” Shirley didn’t look at Mark as she climbed up and squeezed into the buggy seat between them. “Thanks though.”
“Anything for my sister,” Mark commented.
Lee drove Sandy out of the lane.
Mark asked, “Where is the gathering tonight?”
“In the Brinkman’s barn,” Lee grunted out.
“So there’s dancing?” Mark’s voice lifted a notch higher.
“Don’t know.”
Lee couldn’t hide the interest in his voice, and even Mark noticed. “You can’t learn how to dance if you don’t stay off the Pepsi cans.”
“Ha! You’re one to talk. You’ll be falling all over your own two feet.” Lee glared at Mark. “And I can drink all the Pepsi I want to.”
“Suit yourself.” Mark shrugged.
Pepsi. Daett would have things to say if this e
ver came out at home, Shirley thought. But what did Daett expect? Rumspringa was a time to sample forbidden things, and Lee was only taking the opportunities offered him. At least Lee seemed to sample his forbidden things in moderation. And Pepsi wasn’t so bad. It could be worse. As for dancing, Shirley wouldn’t be tempted in that direction at all. That would expose her face to the light of the lanterns hanging overhead. She would stay in the shadows instead and dream of her evenings with Jonas.
“Almost there,” Lee said as he pulled Sandy to a stop at State Route 39. He guided the horse toward Berlin. They rode in silence to the steady beat of the hooves striking pavement. Several other buggies joined them, and the motorized traffic was soon backed up.
Lee glanced in the mirror. “I’m not pulling over. We’re almost there.”
Mark didn’t object, and moments later Lee turned off 39. They drove through a parking lot and into an open field behind a barn. He drove to a board fence with a line of buggies and horses already tied up. Lee swung his buggy into place. Mark had jumped down with the tie rope in his hand before Lee came to a halt. Shirley made a more dignified descent. Lee climbed out and waited for her. Together the three of them approached the barn.
They entered to find a small crowd had already gathered. A stage made out of straw was set up on the barn floor. Various musical instruments lay on the bales. Mark had been right—there would be dancing tonight. Neither of her brothers seemed to have any fear, but perhaps this was old hat to them. They had, after all, been on rumspringa without her for some time. And it wasn’t like they’d speak of such things at home around Mamm and Daett.
Shirley stopped short when she caught sight of Glen Weaver. So he was here. He hadn’t seen her, and she slunk deeper into the shadows. She had no reason to think there would be a repeat performance of his attentions tonight. How needy had she been that an unknown man’s smiles made her breath come up short? The truth was Glen didn’t have to say what he did. He’d insinuated she still was interesting—even with the scars. She could tell by his expression more than his words. But that was all her vanity, she was sure. She needed to move beyond that. Maybe that was the greatest lesson the Lord wished to teach her. As Shirley watched, a boy stood on a hay bale and hollered out, “We’re about ready to begin. This here is Holmes County’s down-home country music band!”
A Blessing for Miriam Page 12