by Beth Shriver
“Lucy, take a load off, and I’ll bring you both a cup of coffee.” Nellie’s commanding tone made Manny grin.
Lucy could feel his gaze as she looked up, waiting for the question that people had asked over and over again when she moved here. Her community down south knew; they were there and had loved her through it.
Manny pulled out her chair and helped her into the seat. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my visits here, it’s that you all don’t take no for an answer.”
Lucy wiped her hands on a cotton towel and smoothed out the wrinkles on her dress before glancing at him from across the table.
“It’s good to see you again, Lucy.” His eye hitched for less than a second.
“Ach, it’s good you were out and about. Luce doesn’t get off the farm much.” Rosy smiled, but Frieda and Nellie were quick to give her stern frowns.
Lucy knew she should be more social but wasn’t comfortable talking to most anyone, let alone Manny, and didn’t appreciate any comments about it. Nor did she want them listening in. Feeling paralyzed, she hoped someone would step in and talk.
“How about some fresh-made egg noodles?” Nellie set a bowl of noodles with chicken broth in front of him. These ladies were known for their cooking and didn’t expect anyone to refuse anything they made.
Manny took in a long whiff, waved some of the delicious aroma Lucy’s way, and took a bite. “It tastes even better than it smells.” He motioned over his shoulder to the three ladies bustling about.
“Jah, sure.” It was only polite to agree, but her stomach was telling her something different.
“Gut, I hate to eat alone.” His smile was like sunshine in the dead of winter. It seemed as if a black cloud hung over Sam’s farm, so the sun was something she didn’t take for granted. Then she realized he had referred to the fact that he did actually eat alone. Lucy’s situation was the opposite, in a way; she dreaded meals with Sam and sitting with him in silence if he wasn’t complaining about something she did or didn’t do.
“I hear your mamm will be coming for a visit.” Manny gave her his full attention as he waited for an answer but never said a word about her scar.
Lucy felt the room become still, an unfamiliar experience for this group of chatty women. The more they stared, the more she felt the walls shrink in on her as the words flew around in her head, refusing to leave her mouth. She stuttered, trying to push a word out—any word—to stop the room from spinning. She took a breath and heard Manny’s voice.
“Take this.” He held out a napkin, but she couldn’t get her hands to move and take it, and closed her eyes instead.
The darkness calmed her, allowing her breath to even out. When she felt anxiety pass, she opened them, expecting to see everyone huddled around her, staring, but to her surprise, the girls were cleaning up the kitchen and Manny was by her side.
“Feel better?”
His soft, clear voice reassured her, and to her surprise, she wasn’t embarrassed that he had his hand on hers. It was a gesture of comfort she needed at that moment.
“Your color’s back. I’ll help you to the couch so you can rest, if you’ll let me.”
She thought, horrified, that he must feel her confusion regarding what was right and wrong, and probably her embarrassment for her behavior.
He glanced over to Frieda. “Maybe some water,” and lifted his eyebrows at her for an answer.
“Jah, water, please.” Lucy lifted her eyes to his. “I’m sorr—”
He held up a hand. “I understand.”
“Nee, you see, I’m with child.”
“Jah, but I didn’t know the other day until Caleb told me. You shouldn’t be walking from your place like that in your condition.”
She pushed herself up and away from him. “Sometimes I just need to be away from things.”
He handed her the water Rosy gave him and moved closer. “What kind of things?”
Her eyes widened as he sat there staring at her, waiting for the answer she wanted to give but couldn’t. No one needed to know the life she lived and accepted as her fate.
He moved in closer—too close—so close that she moved back and pulled her hand away. Her senses were coming back to her, and she knew she was in a potentially dangerous position. Sam would never understand or accept what happened here, even if it was completely innocent. If he found out, she would be as concerned for Manny as herself . . . but what Sam couldn’t take from her was the sensation of her fluttering heart.
Manny’s heart sank. It always did when he drove up to his farm alone, knowing the house would be empty. He slowly rode over to the barn. He’d learned to drag out every chore, repair, meal, or errand as long as he could. It helped the days go a little faster but not much.
He’d chosen another horse to go over to Frieda’s place and needed to stop and check in on Sweet Pea. It was always nice to see those ladies when he made his regular trips over for a meal in exchange for some work on their farm. He would have stayed longer, but Lucy made him uncomfortable. The way she held her cheek was odd, to say the least. Still, there was something intriguing about her. She barely met his eyes when she spoke, but he sensed an inner strength, a steely resolve that seemed guarded, maybe due to her husband, Sam.
Manny didn’t like to speak poorly of people, but that man didn’t seem to like anyone, maybe even himself. Manny knew what it was like to lose a spouse, but he didn’t take his pain out on anyone. He wondered what Sam’s excuse was and whether he was the cause of her scar, but he would never be so bold as to ask her.
Manny unhitched the buggy, rolled it into the barn, and then went out to the farthest stall. Sweet Pea turned her large head toward him and stood at attention, as if waiting for him to do or say something. But then this was their ritual. Since he didn’t have a spouse or therapist to talk to, Sweet Pea was the next best thing.
She nodded and let her mane flutter against her brown neck. Manny felt fatigue kicking in after a day’s work repairing one of the fence lines, milking, feeding, and doing some of the chores in the haus when Emma couldn’t make it over. He’d never thought he’d be doing women’s work, but this was part of where he was.
“You think I’m a sissy, Sweet Pea?” Just hearing her name, a name Glenda had picked out for the horse, reminded him he was still outnumbered. Even his dog, Daisy, had a girlie name, but he didn’t mind. They gave him some comfort and never complained. “Well, maybe I am. Glenda always liked that, didn’t she?”
The horse nodded again, almost on cue. Manny would like to have thought it was a reply, but he knew she just wanted an extra scoop of oats. “Not so fast. I need your opinion about something. What can you do for somebody who’s shy?”
Sweet Pea looked him in the eyes and stared.
“Jah, I’m talking about Lucy. There’s nothing wrong with helping somebody, and that’s all I’m doing.” He hiked his arm over the wooden stall. “To be honest, she makes me uncomfortable, so I’m really doing it for selfish reasons.” He shook his head in thought. “If only she wasn’t so darn timid.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Maybe it suits her, and she’s more comfortable than she seems.”
Sweet Pea nodded again, and this time Manny was sure she meant it as an answer to what he was asking. “Well, that doesn’t leave me with much, so I guess you’re telling me to leave it be.” Though he didn’t want that to be the answer, he didn’t have much cho
ice as to what to do. His compulsion to help Lucy was futile. “I’ll butt out. But if I happen to run into her again anytime soon, I’ll be taking that as a sign.”
He dipped the scoop into the oat bin and then paused, listening. The clip-clop of horse hooves reached him.
Who could be calling so close to suppertime?
Most families were finishing up chores for the day, not out visiting. As he waited for the visitor to approach, Manny admired the sunset lit up with streaks of yellow, orange, and crimson nestled in with the clouds. A familiar buggy came down the road, and he felt the loneliness fade away.
“Hallo, Emma.” He grabbed the reins. Emma practically jumped out of the buggy and wrapped her arms around him.
“As far as I’m concerned, you won’t eat your dinner alone.” She reached into the buggy and pulled out a basket.
“Whether you like it or not.” She slipped her arm around his and urged him toward the haus, strands of her brown hair blowing in the slight wind.
“I’m not your little cousin to care for; you tend to forget that from time to time.” He tugged her forward to get a rise out of her. Her playfulness lifted his spirits, and Gott knew he needed that. With both of his parents gone now, Emma and her family were just about the only relatives he had left.
“You are to me. And you’ll be eating your dinner off the dirt road if you don’t stop pushing me around,” she teased with a stern face.
“Paybacks for you picking on me as a kid.”
She couldn’t argue with that, and they both knew it. But for all their teasing, they had just as many good-hearted conversations. If not for Emma and Caleb, Manny didn’t know how he would have made it through Glenda’s passing.
“Well, that goes both ways.” When they reached the door, she stopped and stared him in the face until he agreed with her. She’d done this for as long as he could remember, and he’d finally quit squirming when he grew taller than her. Now that she had to look up, she wasn’t nearly as intimidating. There was still the problem of her flailing her gums at him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
As soon as Emma set foot in the kitchen, a whirlwind of commotion began as she prepared his dinner. “You’re gonna need more help planting this year. You should ask Daed and the boys to help out.”
He sat down at the kitchen table, his legs suddenly heavy. He knew she was trying to help, but he didn’t want to hear how different everything was now that Glenda was gone, after only one year together.
He’d been through a harvest without her, and it wouldn’t matter how many others helped; it would never be the same.
When he glanced over at Emma, he saw her looking at him. His throat caught, so he didn’t try to talk. Then his chest started to heave. He took deep breaths to keep the pain at bay.
“Don’t get all sentimental about it, Manny, or you’ll get me going.” She turned completely around to check on him, and he dropped his head.
The more she saw his emotions spilling out, the worse it would be. There were plenty of thoughts going through his mind, but one stopped. He wasn’t just upset about Glenda, he was suddenly worried about living the rest of his days alone. He hadn’t thought much about finding another wife, but in that moment he wondered what his future held and stopped thinking about the past. Maybe. Even if it was fleeting, it made him feel a little more alive.
Emma was in a chair by his side before he knew it, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be all right, Manny. I promise you, you will. It just takes time, like healing a wound. You just can’t keep opening it up again.” She lifted her head, staring straight at him, but neither spoke.
She was right. It was time to let go.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you and Caleb.” He tried to smile but couldn’t.
She suddenly stood and glanced around the room. “We’re going outside.” She set the casserole in the oven and went about opening and closing drawers, diverting his attention.
“What are you looking for?” He was too tired to stand but did it anyway. She wouldn’t give up until she found what she wanted. “And what about dinner?”
“It can wait.” She gave him an empty jar and kept one tucked under her arm, opening the back door with the other. The screen door slammed behind them. Emma took off running toward the dirt field, but stopped short, standing in the hip-deep prairie grass.
“You mind telling me what you’re doing?” As he watched her take off the lid and creep around slowly through the grass, he knew what she was doing but couldn’t believe it.
“Let’s see who can catch the most fireflies.” She didn’t lift her head, just kept her jar level with the grass and then scooped up a tiny, glowing light. “It’s hard to believe that’s a living creature in there.” She held it up and watched it go off and back on a second later.
Manny watched a glowing, yellow light fly by and then turned toward Emma, jar in hand. “They say the female lights up to show the male where she is.”
He looked over to see Emma walking toward him. She stopped and tapped his jar with hers. He opened the lid, and she poured the firefly into his jar. “Ya got to let her go, Manny.”
He nodded and put his arm around her. “What would I do without a cousin like you?”
“Find a wife.”
He turned to her. “I’ll find someone, someday. Quit trying to get rid of me.”
“We need pie. Whoopee pie, to be exact.” She looked over expectantly, waiting for his reaction.
“You made my day by saying those words.”
They’d almost made it to the door when a horse with one rider came thundering up to the haus. It was Sam. His first thought was Lucy and the baby, but it was difficult to read Sam’s face. He was a serious man without much expression. But looking at him now, Manny wondered if that was the look of a man who never got over the death of his first wife.
Sam jumped off his palomino, dropping the reins, and let it wander a couple feet away. “You have anything you want to say to me, Manny Keim?” His eyes were slits and his breathing heavy. His fists were balled and white-knuckled. Manny could feel the man’s steel grip without him actually taking hold of him. Sam stood a good four inches above him and had twice the girth.
“I’m assuming this is about my visit at Frieda’s place this afternoon.”
“You assume right.”
“If you’re referring to Lucy’s dizzy spell, I helped her gain her senses is all.”
Sam let out a long breath and dropped his fists. “You touched my wife.”
Emma stepped forward. “Now, just a minute here, Sam—”
Manny held up a hand and stood in front of her.
“She didn’t feel like herself, and I helped her gain her strength back. That’s all.” Manny’s heart beat in his chest. He didn’t expect good manners from Sam, but he didn’t like to be accused of doing something completely different than what he had done.
“What is it you’re concerned about, Sam? There were three other people there who can tell you that we had a nice conversation and something to eat.”
Sam glared at Manny long enough to make him sweat a little. “Stay away from my wife.”
With that, Sam yanked his horse over and hiked himself up into the saddle. He gave Manny one last look, kicked both sides of his mount, and then took off at a gallop. When the cl
oud of dust disappeared, Manny looked away.
“I’m sorry, Manny.” Emma’s voice brought him back to the moment.
“I wonder how word spread so fast,” he muttered under his breath. Then, realizing what Emma had said, he looked at her. “Sorry for what?”
“I told Sam I saw Lucy on the road heading toward Frieda’s when I was out earlier. I didn’t think a thing about it. I guess someone told him you were there when she had that fainting spell.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did I.”
“Then what’s the fuss about?”
“Lucy had a dizzy spell, and I kept her from falling, is all. No matter what Sam says, I only did what was necessary.” He watched Sam turn down the dirt road and slap his horse on the flank.
“I never did understand that man or his wife.” Emma turned to go into the haus.
Manny suddenly felt protective of Lucy and resented Emma’s comment. “Ya gotta get to know someone before you decide how you feel about ’em.”
Emma stopped and glanced at the road. “Well, I think we both know how Sam feels about you.”
Manny didn’t care what Sam thought about him. What he did care about was what kind of tongue-lashing Lucy would undergo when Sam got home.
There’s a stray horse in my yard.” Sam let the back screen door slam shut behind him.
Lucy stopped peeling potatoes and walked to the back door. She smiled when she saw Sweet Pea grazing on the small patches of green grass. “I saw her out there the other day.”
“Raggedy old thing.” He growled and sat down, waiting for his lunch. “You gonna serve me a meal, or do I have to get it myself?” His mood was crustier than usual, but so was she. Lucy just didn’t have the courage to show it. She’d avoid him as much as possible, which wasn’t difficult, especially since she was with child. He’d lost all interest in her once she’d become pregnant, and she thanked Gott for it as she set his lunch down before him.