Gabe pushed his hat off his forehead. “I need you here, Levi. The Stutzers placed a big order that they need by the end of next week. Daed and I can’t do it by ourselves.”
“I gave the Johnsons my word, Gabe.” Levi finally looked at him. “Besides, they pay more than the Stutzers ever could. Mr. Johnson’s also asked me to break one of his fillies. Said he’d triple my going rate.”
Gabe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You would take money over helping out a neighbor?”
“I’ve got a wife to provide for, remember?”
Gabe winced. Salt rubbed into a raw wound. He didn’t need his brother to remind him about his marriage to Moriah. All he had to do was look at the short growth of beard on Levi’s chin, the Amish man’s wedding ring, to remember who his twin had married. He’d distracted himself with work and tried to avoid Moriah, but he couldn’t get her out of his head and heart.
Absently Gabe rubbed his own smooth cheek and forced himself not to think about Moriah. He looked at Levi, unable to understand the man’s eagerness to work for outlanders, especially ones who lived over an hour away. The blacksmith shop made enough to provide for all of them. They didn’t need any extra income. What they needed to do was help out a fellow member of the church.
“My ride’s here.” Levi’s boots crunched in the icy snow as he stepped toward the street.
“What about the Stutzers?”
“I’ll try to be home early. I can pitch in then.” A large white van pulled up beside him. Without another word, Levi climbed into the vehicle and shoved the sliding door shut.
Resentment churned inside Gabe as he watched the van crest the hill. His brother had been acting strangely the past couple weeks. He briefly wondered if there was trouble at home. If there was, it was none of his business. And if there wasn’t, he didn’t want to know about their perfect marriage either.
“Forgive me, Lord,” he whispered, his breath hanging in puffs in the frigid air. “Forgive me for my sin.” He had repeated that prayer so many times that he wondered if God heard it anymore. He forced himself to focus on the problem at hand—how to fill the Stutzer’s order without Levi’s help. Tomorrow would be too late. And lately Daed had been unsteady on his feet, something that unsettled him even more than Levi’s peculiar behavior. The other day he’d almost fallen near the blazing forge, which would have seriously injured him. His father had shaken off Gabe’s concern, saying he must have tripped over something. But Gabe knew better. He hadn’t missed the sudden appearance in their kitchen of several types of herbal tea used to cure illness and increase strength.
Shivering, Gabe headed back to the warmth of the shop and lit the forge. There was no way to get around it—he would have to hire some help. The names of several employment candidates popped into his mind, and then he thought of Aaron Detweiler. The boy had been in a peck of trouble over the past few months, having left the family fold for his rumspringa as soon as he turned sixteen, only to get involved with drugs. He’d returned to the Detweiler’s four months ago, after spending a few months in the Geauga County jail. Aaron wasn’t the first Amish teen to find living outside the community perilous, and he wouldn’t be the last. But at least he was trying to turn things around. As far as Gabe knew, he wasn’t working anywhere steady other than his family’s farm.
Gabe’s own rumspringa had been uneventful, as he had chosen to join the church at eighteen and had no desire to experience the Yankee world. Levi, however, had snuck out a few times at night to hang out with non-Amish teens, unbeknownst to their father. Gabe doubted even Moriah knew about that secret part of Levi’s life. But he had joined the church as well, and put those worldly dabblings behind him.
It was decided then. As soon as Daed came to the shop, Gabe would visit the Detweilers and offer Aaron a job. If and when Levi decided to become dependable again, there would be enough work for all four of them. Everyone needed a chance to redeem themselves. Gabe thought it a blessing he could offer Aaron that chance.
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee, combined with the peppery aroma of breakfast sausage and scrambled eggs, filled the air. Moriah covered the eggs with helpings of savory Swiss cheese she had picked up from the Middlefield Cheese House, then divided them over four slices of bread. She added a patty of sausage on top and finished the breakfast sandwiches with four more pieces of buttered bread. She wrapped them in foil, filled a thermos with steaming coffee, and packed it all in a large wicker basket. In her mind she was already planning their lunch meal—a platter of hearty slices of meatloaf, brown gravy, mashed potatoes with plenty of butter and milk, and apple crisp for dessert.
While she delighted in preparing and serving Gabriel and John their meals, her feelings were often pricked by Gabe’s reception. John, of course, was always grateful, and always praised her cooking talents. But Gabriel often said little more than thank you. Although Levi had seemed distant as of late, Gabriel acted indifferent toward her, even more so since her marriage. She had hoped their relationship would improve, but it hadn’t. But she determined that his attitude wouldn’t keep her from taking care of them. As two single men, they needed some pampering every once in a while.
She donned her coat, then walked the short distance to the blacksmith shop. Like the main house and the dawdi haus, it was painted crisp white, with a black roof and plain wooden door. Outside, she could hear the echo of metal clanging against metal. She hung the food-laden wicker basket on the crook of her arm and opened the door with her free hand.
Heat immediately blasted her body, engulfing her in warmth, a welcome contrast to the coldness of the outdoors. The tin ring of a bell sounded as she shut the door, and both Gabriel and John looked up. John gave her a smile, while Gabriel acknowledged her with a small nod.
“I hope that’s what I think it is,” John said, as he put aside a fat metal file and walked toward her. He took a few steps, then touched the side of a table, as though trying to gain his balance.
She hadn’t noticed John being so unsteady before, but then again, she didn’t spend much time in the shop. Moriah set the basket of food on a nearby table. While John peeked inside, Gabriel stayed at the anvil, pounding away at a red, glowing piece of metal. John rarely worked the anvil anymore, preferring to let his brawny sons do the hard labor. She didn’t blame him—he’d spent many years putting in long and exhausting hours as a blacksmith. He’d earned the well-deserved rest.
She caught sight of Gabriel again. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbow. The muscles flexed beneath his skin as he slammed the hammer down. Quickly she glanced away, feeling a twinge of guilt for staring at her brother-in-law. “What did you bring us today, dochder?” John asked, rubbing his callused hands together.
Glad for the diversion, Moriah named off the items as she withdrew them from the basket and laid them on the table. “Sausage and egg sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.”
“Gut, sehr gut. Everything smells delicious, Moriah. Danki.”
Her lips formed into a smile, genuinely happy that her father-in-law was pleased with her offering.
“Gabriel, come and eat,” John said as he picked up a sandwich. He peeled back the foil and inhaled, closing his eyes and grinning. “Manna from heaven.”
“In a minute.” The sizzling sound of hot metal meeting cold water filled the air, and for a moment Gabriel was completely obscured by a cloud of steam. He withdrew the cooled piece of iron, balanced it on the anvil, and walked toward her and John. His gaze remained cast downward, as it usually was whenever he and Moriah shared the same company.
“You have to try one of these. They’re still hot.” John handed Gabriel a sandwich. Gabriel accepted the sandwich, then unwrapped it and took a bite. He nodded his approval, but his face remained unreadable.
Moriah took out two coffee mugs from the basket. She unscrewed the lid off the thermos and poured John and Gabriel each a cup of coffee. She handed Gabriel his first.
His gaze flicked to her as he took the cup from
her hand, but he took two steps back and looked at the floor again. Downing the sandwich, he balled up the foil and took a swig of the coffee before putting the mug back on the table. “Got to get back to work.”
“Gabriel, you can take a break.” John took a big bite of sausage, cheese, and egg. “We’ll get the work done, sohn.”
As Moriah listened to John, her stomach suddenly felt like it had been turned upside down. Perspiration beaded her forehead as she inhaled the mixed scents of black coffee, sausage, and coal burning. The aromas made her gag. She reached out to grab the table as the room started to swirl.
“Moriah, you all right?”
John’s voice sounded far away. Where had the table disappeared to? Suddenly she couldn’t see anything.
She sensed something behind her just as she tilted backward. Something solid. Closing her eyes, she fought for consciousness.
The instant Gabe saw Moriah sway, he rushed to her. He’d just managed to move behind her when she fell against him and started sliding to the floor. Grabbing her shoulders, he drew her closer to his chest, calling out her name.
“Moriah?”
Her head lolled for a moment and she mumbled something incoherent.
John reached for a nearby chair and dragged it to Gabe. “Let her sit down, Gabriel.”
Gabe eased her into the chair as his arm cradled her shoulders. Her complexion had paled, and her normally peach-toned lips were nearly white. Bending his legs at the knees, he crouched down beside her, one arm still across her shoulders.
“I’ll get a cold rag,” John said, and he shuffled over to the sink on the other side of the shop.
Gabe heard the trickling of water in the sink as he scanned Moriah’s features. Her eyes were closed, but she was still conscious. “Moriah? Can you hear me?”
She nodded, her eyes opening. Some of the color seeped back to her face now that she was seated. “What happened?” she asked in a breathy, surprised voice.
“You passed out . . . I think.” He searched her face again. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” She licked her lips, which were still stark white.
His gaze went involuntarily to her mouth. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed being so close to her, only to emotionally flog himself later, but now all he could think about was her welfare. “Do you need something to drink?”
“She needs this.” John handed her a wet rag. The faded red cloth was filled with stains. “Wipe her face with it,” he instructed. “Don’t worry, sohn. That rag might look filthy, but it’s clean.”
Carefully Gabe dabbed the damp cloth against her smooth forehead, then slid the rag over the plumpest part of her cheeks. She closed her eyes again, leaning even further against him.
“Did you eat something this morning?” John asked.
Opening her eyes, she shook her head. “I wasn’t very hungry.”
Gabe glanced up at his father, whose expression had suddenly become inscrutable. John took one of the sandwiches and handed it to her. “Here, take a bite of this. I’ll go get you some water.”
She shook her head. “I don’t—”
“No arguments, Moriah. Eat it.” John turned and trekked back to the sink, where they kept a small supply of clean glasses and coffee cups.
Moriah brought the sandwich to her mouth and took a small bite. She chewed for a moment, then swallowed. Clearly she was forcing the food down.
Concern filled Gabe. She didn’t look well at all. “Moriah, are you sick?”
“No . . .” Her eyes suddenly widened. The paleness of her cheeks gave way to a rosy red as she refused to look at him.
And at that moment Gabe knew. She was carrying his brother’s child.
A jumble of emotions passed through Moriah. Embarrassment that she’d almost fainted in the shop. Appreciation for the way John had taken charge and made her eat something. With a bit of food in her stomach, she felt less queasy. She hadn’t eaten anything that morning because the thought of consuming even one bite of food made her stomach turn. But now she knew that to ignore her body’s hunger signals would be even worse.
She also felt something else, something completely unexpected. As Gabe still stayed beside her, crouching on the ground, looking at her with genuine concern, she felt safe. Protected. Cared for, and in a way she’d never felt before, not even with Levi. How could she feel that way in her brother-in-law’s presence, but not her husband’s?
Perhaps it was the hormones from the baby. If today’s near fainting spell didn’t prove she was pregnant, she didn’t know what would, other than a pregnancy test of course. But she didn’t need to take a test to know there was a new life growing inside her. She had suspected it for a while, since she’d missed her last monthly cycle. She brought the partially eaten sandwich up to her mouth to hide the smile twitching on her lips.
“I think you’re coming out of it.” John handed her a cup of water, then propped his hip against the table. The overhead lights in the shop, powered by the white propane tank in the backyard, illuminated the salt and pepper colors in his hair and beard. “You shouldn’t skip breakfast, young lady. Didn’t your mudder always tell you that?” The twinkle in his brown eyes indicated he was only half scolding her.
“Ya. Don’t worry, I won’t miss a meal again.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer.
She glanced at Gabe, who was still crouched by the chair. An odd expression spread across his face, and this time he was looking at her. Although he seemed to look right through her, as if he had something else on his mind. Something that bothered him, from what she could tell. “I’m okay now,” she said, sensing that he needed the reassurance.
“What? Oh.” He jumped to his feet. “I’m glad.” He stepped away from her to stand behind John, reverting back to his habit of not looking directly at her.
Sighing inwardly, she wondered if she would ever understand her brother-in-law. She took another small bite of the sandwich, then felt refreshed enough to stand up.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” John asked, stepping toward her. Gabe had already returned back to the forge.
She felt normal, as if she hadn’t been overcome with dizziness only moments ago. “I’m fine,” she said sincerely. “I’d planned to visit my family today, and I feel well enough to do so.”
“Are you sure?” John didn’t look convinced.
The reverberating sound of Gabe’s hammer against the anvil filtered through her ears. “I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of me. I appreciate it.” She smiled. “If I start to feel strange again, I’ll turn around and come home.”
“You’d better.” The twinkle was gone from his eyes, and she knew he was serious.
“I will.” She turned to say good-bye to Gabe, to thank him for keeping her from hitting the floor. But he was engrossed in his work and didn’t even look up when she moved toward the door.
Had she imagined his earlier concern? If his current indifference was any indication, she had.
She left the shop, confused by Gabe’s bewildering treatment of her. Maybe he was unhappy that she had displaced him from his house. Both she and Levi had insisted he stay in the main house with them, but he had been all too eager to move into the dawdi haus with John. Maybe his curt behavior didn’t have anything to do with his living arrangements. Maybe he just wanted to get away from her.
Tamping down the hurt, she returned to her kitchen and cleaned up, forcing Gabe from her thoughts. Instead she focused on the baby. Mine and Levi’s. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the pregnancy. A baby would bring them closer together, she was sure of it. As she finished up her chores, she praised God for the blessing growing inside her.
A short while later she arrived at her mother’s house, still not feeling any ill effects from her earlier fainting spell. The sun had risen fully, but was obscured by a flat, grayish sky that cast a cloudy pall over everything. On the other side of the black asphalt driveway stood her father’s wood
shop, where he and her brothers made the handcrafted furniture the tourists always seemed to crave. Normally she could hear them working, but the shop doors were closed tight against the winter cold.
“Mami ?” she called out when she entered her parents’ home through the front door. An odd sensation came over her as she scanned the living room. Now that she and Levi had settled into their own place, she found it strange coming back here, even though she had spent so many hours in this sparsely furnished but cozy and welcoming room, sitting on the comfortable brown sofa near the coal fireplace, reading a book or talking with her siblings. She had spent her entire life in this house, but now it was no longer home, despite everything being so familiar to her.
“In here, Moriah.” Her mother’s voice came from the kitchen at the back of the house.
Moriah walked through the living and dining rooms, breathing in the scent of freshly baked bread. Baking day. The scent, instead of making her nauseous, beckoned her. She followed the delicious aroma into the kitchen.
“You must have read my mind, daughter.” Emma brushed the back of a flour-covered hand over her damp forehead. Although it might be thirty degrees outside, the radiating heat from the stove made the kitchen toasty. “I just started a fresh batch of sticky buns. I could use your help.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“You can start by rolling out that dough.”
Moriah went to the sink and washed up before sitting down at the table. She then dipped her hands into the canister of flour and grabbed the glob of dough and a wood rolling pin. Immediately she set to work.
Her mother removed two finished pans of buns from the oven and began spreading them with cream cheese frosting. “I considered keeping Elisabeth and Ruth home today from school to help, but thought better of it. Besides, Ruthie would howl if I even hinted at not allowing her to go to school.”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 5