Opening the front door, Susanna ran across the lawn. The barn was dark when she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Peering into the darkness, she could see nothing. She needed a flashlight. Herman might be in the hayloft, and there was no sense in her making things worse by breaking her legs getting up to him.
Perhaps if she would call, he would answer. “Herman!” she yelled, her voice squeaking. “Herman!” She tried again, louder this time. But there was still no answer. She felt her way around the barn with her hands.
“Herman! It’s Susanna. I’m sorry…I wasn’t trying to ignore you in the house.”
Bruce banged in his stall, recognizing her voice, but the rest of the place held only silence.
I can’t go on without hurting myself, Susanna decided. She felt her way back to the barn door and raced toward the house; almost tripping on the porch steps but catching herself in time. A skinned knee was all she needed now. Blood running down her leg at a time like this.
Finding the flashlight in the washroom, she ran back to the barn and searched. Herman wasn’t on the main floor of the barn, so he must be in the hayloft. Taking her time she climbed up, sending the flashlight beam all around the stacked hay bales. No Herman. Perhaps he is sitting behind the stacks, his heart too broken to speak?
Climbing all the way up she searched. No Herman. She went down and out to the silo. No Herman. He was gone, no question about it. Cold stabs of fear ran up and down her back. Her fingers felt frozen as she clutched the flashlight. Out in the yard she shined the light around the barnyard. What had she missed? Was there someplace else Herman could be?
There wasn’t. And here she was acting like he was some lost child she had to find. He wasn’t a child. Herman was a man, her husband, and he was gone. Should she run up to Bishop Jacob’s place? If she did, they would all look at her with pity. Only married for a few weeks, they would think, and already quarreling with each other.
They wouldn’t come to help find Herman because Herman wasn’t lost. He had left because he wanted to leave. She had to face that, no matter how much it hurt. She went back into the house. The casserole had cooled. The popcorn stared back at her from the place by the stove, accusing her: “You chased your husband off…”
“I did not,” she whispered. “I did not! I love him, and he loves me.”
Then why is Herman out there somewhere, and you are in the house alone? The food didn’t have to ask the question this time. She asked it herself.
Walking into the living room she sat down and buried her face in her hands. There had to be something she could do. Search the woods perhaps. Call his name again and again. When she found him she’d tell Herman she loved him. That they could work through this. That she didn’t have a desire for things to have worked out with Matthew. That her time and marriage with Herman was so much better.
But Herman wasn’t listening right now. Would he listen in the future…once he came back in from wherever he was? He was coming back, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t leave her, would he? Matthew had—and she had never expected that to happen. Was she wrong again?
“Oh, please, Da Hah!” she cried out. “Don’t let this be happening to me again. I can’t take it. If Herman doesn’t love me, what will I do?” She heard a noise outside, and jumped to her feet, quickly moving to jerk open the front door. Nobody was in the yard or around the corner of the house. She heard only the wind blowing and saw soft snowflakes floating past.
The snow that had been threatening all afternoon, now it began to fall in earnest. She had been too worked up to notice. Herman was out in a snowstorm! He would freeze if he was in the woods alone. She had to go look for him…but she couldn’t. It was a task too great for her, and her heart would break searching in vain among the trees of the forest. Better if she stayed here and waited. Herman was coming back. He was! Because he loved her and she loved him.
Shutting the front door, she walked back into the kitchen. Placing the food in the oven, she shut the door and turned off the heat. There was no point in keeping it on. Herman was coming back, but it might not be for a while. He was a simple man, but he was also stubborn. She would pray—that’s what she would do.
Taking one last look at the popcorn sitting on the stove top, she went into the living room and knelt beside Herman’s recliner.
Eleven
Susanna woke with a start. She leaped to her feet from where she’d been sleeping on the couch. The afghan went flying across the floor. Her head pounded as she paused. She clearly heard footsteps outside the front door. Was Herman returning from wherever he’d been? Holding her breath, Susanna took a step forward as the latch rattled and the door was pushed open.
Herman appeared in the shadowy darkness, his hat and shoulders snow covered. He stopped with his hand on the knob as his eyes searched the room.
With a cry she rushed forward. He opened his arms to her long before she got to him.
“Oh Herman!” Susanna gasped. “Where have you been? I looked all over for you. And you’re covered with snow!”
“Yah. It’s snowing outside.”
“You’ve come home again!” Her voice ended in a sob.
“I had to think,” he offered. “I was walking in the woods.”
Susanna slid his coat off his shoulders and rubbed his cold hands between hers. “Come…sit on the couch. What time is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s got to be after midnight.” Susanna wrapped her arms around him again.
“I’m sorry I left for a while…” his voice trailed off.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Susanna pulled on his arm. He didn’t resist as he sat on the couch with her. She found the afghan lying on the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders, watching as Herman shivered.
“You didn’t have to leave,” she whispered. “Now you’re going to catch a cold.”
He shivered again as she nestled against him.
“Are you hungry? I had supper ready, but it’s cold by now.” She felt him shake his head.
“But you have to be hungry. I’ll warm up something for you.”
He didn’t protest, so she slipped away to light the kerosene lamp in the kitchen. Maybe as badly as he was shivering, she ought to fix him something hot to drink first and go from there.
Putting water on to boil, she turned the burner up. While it heated, she brought out the cocoa and marshmallows, setting two cups on the counter. She would drink with him, and they could talk after Herman warmed up. He must have been thinking awful thoughts to have wandered around in the woods all this time. Glancing up at the clock, she groaned. It was already past two o’clock. Herman had been out for hours. But he had come home! That was the important thing.
“Come on, come on!” she whispered to the kettle. “Hurry up!”
A watched pot never boils, she reminded herself. She might as well check on Herman while she waited. Taking the lamp with her, Susanna went back into the living room. Herman was still seated where she had left him, shivering violently now. His face was pale in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp. “Herman, you’re cold.” She sat down beside him. “Why did you stay out so long with only that thin Sunday coat on?”
He didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at her.
“Oh Herman. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by how I acted when you came in from the barn.”
“I’m sorry too,” he mumbled.
“Sorry for what? I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“I couldn’t stop walking,” he said. “I was thinking about us. About how you must wish you weren’t with me.”
“But, Herman, that’s not true! I love you.”
He said nothing as he shivered under the afghan.
“Herman, believe me. Please! I don’t want anyone else, to be with anyone else.” She ran her hand over his face as the teakettle whistled in the kitchen. Susanna rushed away, returning moments later with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. She would run back for hers i
n a moment. All that mattered was that Herman warm up.
Slipping the cup into his hands, she searched his face. If Herman would only smile a little, she would know that all was well. But he didn’t have the slightest sparkle in his eyes. His face was even paler than it had been when he first walked in. What had she done to him? And all because she’d been crying when he came in from the barn. She’d just needed the release…a little time to recover herself.
Oh Matthew! If he’d only stayed away this wouldn’t have happened! But she shouldn’t blame Matthew. He was only doing what he thought was right. Her own heart was what betrayed her, and she was so ashamed of that. Herman was a wonderful man, and she wanted to love him with all of her heart.
“Darling,” she whispered, touching his face again. He still hadn’t sipped any of the hot chocolate steaming in the cup in his hand. She knew Herman loved his hot chocolate. It hadn’t taken more than a few days of their short marriage to discover that.
“Is that what you used to call him?” Herman whispered.
With a sob, she nestled tightly against his shoulder. She gripped his hands holding the cup in hers. The hot chocolate spilled over the sides.
“Oh Herman, it’s not like that!” she cried, jumping to her feet and dashing into the other room. She returned with a dishcloth. Wiping both their hands, she clung to him. “It’s not like that at all, Herman. ‘Darling’ doesn’t mean the same thing when I use it for you. It’s so much better.”
He hung his head, not answering. Taking the cup of hot chocolate in her hands, she lifted it to his lips. They were chapped. She hadn’t noticed that before. There must be more of a storm outside than she knew. And her husband had been out in it. With a gentle prodding of her hand, he opened his mouth and swallowed. Herman didn’t look well at all. Talk would have to wait. She’d better get Herman to bed. Maybe a gut night’s sleep was what he needed. More than her chattering and vows of love whispered into his ear. He probably didn’t believe a word she said at the moment anyway. Not after all the things Matthew had probably told him.
Herman kept drinking, and she kept insisting, “You’ll feel better with something warm in your stomach and a gut night’s sleep. I love you, Herman. Lots and lots! And nothing Matthew told you is like it is now. He’s not seeing things right at all. You are many, many times more the man he was or is, Herman. You’re more than Matthew could ever hope to be.”
Herman still wasn’t saying anything. He only stared at the wall, drinking the cocoa when she put it to his mouth. At least he was drinking. That was something to be thankful for. How awful would it have been if he’d been so mad that he’d never come back? Herman had plenty of reasons for being upset. Matthew had no doubt seen to that.
But here she was blaming Matthew again. All the while, Matthew had probably said nothing but the truth. She had called Matthew “darling,” and “sweetheart,” and “my dearest,” and other endearments many, many times. And she had kissed him often and with pleasure. All of which Herman had no doubt figured out.
But that was then and this is now, Susanna protested silently. Different in ways that couldn’t be explained. Right now wasn’t the time to continue trying to convince Herman of her love. He was looking worse by the moment. His shivering hadn’t stopped, and now his entire face looked red and chapped.
Running her hand over his cheek, she pulled him close. “Come, you should get into bed.”
He didn’t protest as she helped him move by pulling on his arm. She set the empty cocoa cup on the desk. Taking his hand in one of hers and the lamp in the other, she led him to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed while she helped him take his shoes off. In the soft light she pulled off his socks. She gasped when she saw his feet were red and icy cold.
“Oh Herman! You shouldn’t have stayed out so long!” Her voice caught with a sob. “I love you. I do! I love you so much.”
She looked up and saw he was trying to smile, the effort obviously great. “I’m so sorry, Herman,” she whispered. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Don’t move.”
Dashing into the kitchen, she filled a bowl with warm water from the kitchen faucet, adding a dash of Epsom Salt from under the cupboard. With another sob, she grabbed a towel out of a drawer and raced back into the bedroom. Herman was still sitting just as she’d left him. Bending over, she slipped both his feet into the water. She lifted one foot out at a time and rubbed, staying at it until the coolness in his skin was gone.
She wiped his feet dry with the towel and then tenderly massaged his feet. When she finished and looked up, a hint of a smile was on Herman’s face.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “That feels much better.”
She almost laughed out loud. Instead she jumped up and gave him a long hug. She stopped in the middle of it, noticing Herman was still shivering. She felt his shoulders shaking.
“Come,” she said. “I’ll help you under the covers.”
He didn’t protest when she took his hands and pulled him up.
Once on his feet, he made a halfhearted effort to undress as the shivering increased. She helped him then. With unfamiliar motions, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his shoulders. Opening the buttons on his trousers, she helped him sit on the edge of the bed while she pulled them off.
A shiver ran through her. Herman would never allow her to help to this degree if something wasn’t really wrong. His strong body looked the same, but there was something different. A weakness that had never been there before hung over him.
She pulled back the covers, and Herman slowly slid between the sheets. Susanna covered him with the quilt. Tucking in the sides close to him, she ran her hands over his face. He was still shaking. He needed more blankets. Opening the cedar chest on the other side of the room, Susanna took out the thickest quilt they had and draped it over the bed.
“Can I get you something else?” she asked. “Food? More hot chocolate?”
His face looked flushed now, and she placed her hand on his forehead. It was hot—much hotter than before.
“I’ll take some more hot chocolate,” he whispered.
“I’ll be right back!” Herman looked white as she raced out of the bedroom. What kind of a mess had they gotten into? What if Herman was really sick? Like pneumonia or some other horrible disease? Caught while his defenses were down after he had wandered around in the cold night tormented by thoughts of Matthew and her.
Herman wasn’t going to lose her, she thought as she poured water into a cup. And Herman cared about her. That much was plain to see. Herman wouldn’t have roamed around in a snowstorm if he didn’t care a lot about her. She didn’t deserve this devotion, but what a wonderful thing it was. Matthew had never been distraught in the least over whether she loved him or not. He had, in fact, walked away from her love quite willingly.
“Oh Herman!” she whispered again as she took the cup to the bedroom and handed it to him. He was still shaking, even under the quilts. She helped him sit up to drink the cocoa. He drank in quick gulps now and smiled when he was done. “Thank you. I don’t deserve this special treatment.”
“Of course you do! Don’t say that.”
His smile faded as he shivered again. Now was not the time for talking. Herman had to be kept warm. Tucking him under the quilts again, she changed into her nightgown and slid under the covers on her side of the bed. Wrapping herself around him, she held Herman until his shivering stopped and he fell asleep.
Twelve
Susanna tossed and turned, her dreams as wild as the winds that blew fiercely outside the windows of the house and lashed the windowpanes with snow. She and Herman were shuddering under the assault. She ought to be cold, even freezing with how much the storm was howling outside the house, but she wasn’t. She was burning up. Had Herman left the furnace on high or was the house on fire? With a gasp she awoke, her hand clutching the edge of the bed. “It was just a dream,” she whispered, not moving as she looked around the bedroom. Through the window she could see the
dawn breaking in a clear sky. The house wasn’t on fire, and there was no storm outside. But she was burning hot—the heat was coming from Herman’s body.
She sat up, pushed back the quilt, and ran her hand over Herman’s forehead. It threw off heat in waves, and his brow was wet with sweat.
She leaped out of bed and dressed quickly. Racing into the kitchen, she ran water from the tap until it reached lukewarm. She filled a small bowl. Grabbing a fresh washcloth, she made her way back to the bedroom. Herman woke while she was bathing his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot.
He muttered, “What’s wrong?”
“You’re sick. You’re burning with fever. You have to stay in bed.”
He struggled to sit up but soon gave up.
Susanna held his hand as Herman lay back on the pillow. “If you rest, you’ll get better faster.”
He nodded but didn’t look happy.
“You have to eat something,” Susanna told him. “Then maybe you should go to the doctor. You got very chilled last night from being out in the woods.”
Comprehension dawned on his face, followed by shadows of a frown.
“Herman, please,” she begged. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
He struggled to sit up again.
She put her hand on his shoulder. “No, Herman. Let me get you something. You’re sick.”
He managed to sit on the edge of the bed, but he made no further effort to stand. His face was still flushed and sweaty.
“What can I get you? Chicken soup or oatmeal?”
He shook his head as he lay down again.
“You don’t want anything?”
He turned toward her and tried to smile. “I’m okay. But the chores…can you do them?”
“Of course.” In the weeks since their wedding, she hadn’t done any outside chores. But she’d been in the barn many times, and she’d done outside chores when she lived at home.
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