An Amish Buggy Ride

by Sarah Price

  “Everyone?” he asked, one eyebrow arched as he questioned her.

  She merely responded with a gentle lifting of her shoulders.

  Thomas pursed his lips, stealing a quick glance in Linda’s direction. Kate recognized the look as the unspoken communication that only a husband and wife could share. Without being privy to their private conversations, Kate suspected she understood the meaning of their secret exchange. Clearly, Thomas was mentally preparing himself for dealing with David.

  No sooner had they entered the house than Maem came bustling up from the cellar to greet them. She gushed over Stephen, quickly setting down the jars of chowchow she had brought upstairs so that she could pick him up and fuss. After all, he was her first grandchild.

  “And you’re feeling well, Linda?” she asked once the initial excitement of seeing Stephen calmed down. “You look well.”

  Truth was that she looked healthy enough but tired. Working on a farm with one small baby and another on the way was hard work. Kate didn’t need to be told that. She knew that Linda surely had a few tough years ahead of her, especially if she had more babies right away. But like most Amish women, especially those who worked on farms, raising children was a blessing that Linda celebrated as a gift from God. There would be no complaints.

  The good news was that Linda’s family lived close enough to help her tend the kinner. Linda’s younger sister had even stayed with them to help after Stephen was born. Kate suspected that the same would happen this time around, too.

  David remained in the sunroom off the kitchen, his wheelchair facing the window. Rather than greet his brother, he continued staring outside, waiting for Thomas to approach him. Kate watched with curiosity as Thomas sat beside David, attempting to converse with him but getting little response.

  While disappointed, more for Thomas’s sake than David’s, Kate knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, David rarely spoke anymore, except to complain or demand something. Daed seemed to stay outside more and more, avoiding confrontations with his son while Miriam and Becca escaped his wrath by helping Daed.

  As always, it seemed that Kate bore the brunt of his anger.

  The sound of Daed walking into the house caught her attention. He was speaking with someone and laughing as she heard the sound of his boots on the porch. Shifting to the side, she tried to peer out the window to see who he spoke to, but they were already inside the house.

  Thomas stood up, leaving David’s side as he called out, “Samuel Esh!” With a broad smile, Thomas crossed the room to greet Samuel as he entered the kitchen through the mudroom. “Been a while, my friend!”

  Kate’s mouth opened, and she lifted her hand to her hair as if to smooth back any stray strands. Becca caught her in the act and giggled, darting out of Miriam’s way just in time to miss being pinched.

  “Your daed mentioned you were stopping by this Sunday. Invited me over to visit a spell,” Samuel said as he shook Thomas’s hand. He greeted Linda and Maem before turning toward Kate. “Why hello, Kate Zook! Long time no see,” he said with a smile and wink.

  From behind her, she heard David scoff. Samuel’s eyes flickered over her head in her brother’s direction, but he remained smiling, his attention clearly on Kate.

  She wondered why neither Maem nor Daed mentioned that Samuel had been invited. Of course, she remembered Maem suggesting that Kate invite him for supper. She hadn’t, mostly because of David. Certainly Daed had extended the invitation as a way to thank Samuel for helping out while Kate recovered from her twisted ankle. Still, the secrecy concerned her. Why would they neglect to tell her?

  She helped her maem finish preparing the afternoon meal by pouring fresh meadow tea into glasses and setting them at each place setting. Her heart pounded while she tried to listen to Thomas and Samuel’s conversation, which was mainly about farming. Daed chimed in from time to time but seemed perfectly content to let his older son converse with their guest.

  “Corn crop’s growing nicely and we already have a second hay ready to cut next week. Growing fast this year,” Thomas said. He reached up and took Stephen from his wife. “Might get five cuttings if the weather stays this way.”

  Daed nodded, impressed. “You must have good soil, then.”

  “With the prices of hay so high, I’m grateful to be able to sell some this year,” Thomas added. “The extra income sure will come in helpful. Had a tough year last.” He glanced at his daed and raised an eyebrow. “You managing all right, then?”

  “Right as rain,” Daed chirped cheerfully.

  Kate paused what she was doing and looked up. Right as rain? That was Maem’s expression and something she had never before heard Daed say. Ever since December, her daed had been quiet and forlorn, barely speaking and never laughing. Suddenly, he seemed like a new man, as if he had not one care in the world.

  “In fact,” Daed continued, “I’ve arranged to hire Samuel. He’s going to help with some of the baling and harvesting.”

  She looked at Samuel, sitting in the chair beside Daed. They appeared completely at ease with each other. While she knew that her daed thought highly of Samuel, their new level of closeness still surprised her. Of course, the fact that Samuel offered to help Daed when she was injured must have cemented the budding friendship between them. To hear that Samuel would work the farm that summer and fall took her by surprise. Another private deal that no one had told her about. While she was pleased for Daed, and secretly glad to know that she’d be able to spend more time with Samuel, she wondered why no one had spoken of this new arrangement before now.

  And then she caught sight of David, glaring at Samuel, and Kate knew. She knew why no one had discussed the agreement. She understood the unspoken dynamics of what was happening. Immediately, she felt sick to her stomach, an ache at her very core. For as much as David blamed Kate for his situation, his hatred was twice as deep for Samuel, not just for the incident with the Scrabble game but for now having replaced him as a working hand on the farm.

  As if reading her mind, Thomas turned to his brother, addressing his question to David. “What about you, David? Seems about time for you to start helping in the barn.”

  Inwardly, Kate groaned. Not this again, she thought. The last visit from Thomas and Linda started well enough until the focus of the discussion had shifted to David. When Thomas had learned that his brother refused to attend any physical therapy, an argument had ensued. As always, Thomas had reprimanded him about not trying harder to accept and adapt to his disability; David merely responded with his typical outrage.

  “Not much good for anything now, am I?” David snapped.

  Shaking his head, Thomas shifted Stephen in his arms where the baby slept. “Seems there’s a lot you could do to be useful,” he started. “Still avoiding physical therapy?”

  David looked away.

  “I thought so,” Thomas mumbled. “You’re young, David, and still have a life ahead of you. It’s a mistake to throw it away and not try.”

  Kate caught her breath and backed up so that she leaned against the counter. With all of her might, she willed Thomas to stop. Please, she prayed. No ugliness today. No words. No arguments. No disputes in front of Samuel.

  To her relief, David did not respond. Instead, he continued staring out the window. Still, she felt embarrassed that Samuel had witnessed yet one more altercation with David.

  Shortly after two o’clock, Maem called everyone to the table. Kate sat in her usual place next to Miriam, and to her surprise, Samuel took the seat next to her. His leg brushed against hers and she moved aside, giving him more room. She thought she saw him smile, just a little, when she did so. Becca took her place at the far end of the bench and across from David. It was a small table but everyone fit, despite being a little cramped.

  When the before-prayer was finished and the plates began to be passed, Thomas looked up and addressed Kate. “I he
ard you hurt yourself just weekend last.”

  She nodded, taking the plate of warm ham from Miriam. “My ankle, ja.”

  “Hiking, I heard?”

  Samuel chimed in, answering the question for her. “That’s right. Up at the Water Gap. Lots of trees felled, from the winter storms, I reckon. Wasn’t cleaned up yet.” He glanced at Kate. “But she was a real trooper. Not one complaint about her injury,” he said, pride in his eyes. “And I’m sure that hurt plenty.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been a tough one,” Thomas added. He lifted his fork to his mouth but paused before eating. “Sometimes I wonder that she bears one too many burdens for those shoulders.”

  The compliments as well as the attention embarrassed her. Lowering her eyes, she knew that her cheeks were red because of the warmth she felt there.

  Without any warning, David pushed back his wheelchair from the table. His narrowed eyes glowered as he glared in her direction.

  “David,” Maem said, her voice emotionless but firm. “We have not finished the meal.”

  “I’ve finished my meal,” he snapped. “I’ve lost any appetite with this foolish rubbish.” He started to maneuver the wheelchair toward his bedroom.

  Samuel straightened his back. From the corner of her eyes, Kate saw the muscles twitch in his jaw. He clenched his teeth and pressed his lips together but remained silent.

  “You have not been excused,” Daed said. If the assertive tone of his voice didn’t stop David, the stern look on Daed’s face should have. “You will wait until we finish eating and say the after-prayer.”

  David remained defiant, refusing to return to the table. His eyes flickered toward Kate first and then to Thomas. “You think she bears too many burdens, do you?” He laughed, but it held no mirth. “I’d think you’d be the first one to know that she has caused many more burdens than she bears, Thomas. If she has any troublesome weight on her shoulders, it was caused by her own doing!”

  “David!” Maem started to stand. “That’s enough!”

  Thomas, however, reached out to touch her arm. “Let him go, Maem,” he said softly. “You can’t fix ungrateful.” He lifted his eyes and stared across the table at his brother. “Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.”

  At this comment, David bristled. “Bitterness? Is that what you think?”

  Thomas remained calm, despite the anger in David’s reaction. “What I see is what I speak. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.”

  “Thankful?” David spat out the word as if it tasted of poison. He turned his chair so that he faced the table. “What exactly is there to be thankful about?” He smacked the sides of his wheelchair with his hands. “This? A life in this chair?”

  “You lived, David.” Thomas spoke with no emotion in his voice. “And you can continue living a life that is fulfilling and good. That is what God wants. It is His will.”

  “I lived?” Once again, David laughed. “You call this living?” Lifting his chin, he shook his head. “I’d rather have died alongside Ruth.” He paused and narrowed his eyes once again. “Or even Jacob!”

  Under the table, Miriam grabbed Kate’s hand as Maem gasped, “David, you don’t know what you are saying!”

  Smacking his hand on the tabletop, Daed demanded David’s attention. “ ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ You will not question God’s plans in my house!”

  Another laugh. “Hope? A future?”

  “David, please . . .” Kate dared to plead.

  “And you!” David turned his wrath in her direction. He stared at her, glowering with a raw expression of rage that frightened her. Never in her life had she ever seen such fury on anyone’s face. “You were there that night! You knew!”

  His words felt like a knife to her heart. She cringed, shutting her eyes as she tried to extract her hand from Miriam’s. Miriam refused to let go. Instead, she squeezed Kate’s hand even harder. On the other side of her, she felt Samuel flex his shoulders, stiffening at the words that David flung in her direction.

  “You could have stopped it!”

  Kate shook her head, her eyes still shut. Make him stop, she prayed. Please, dear Lord, make him stop.

  “Like you could have stopped Jacob!”

  “Stop . . .” she whispered.

  “Instead, your life continues and you’ve moved along as if nothing has happened. Nothing to me. Nothing to Ruth. And nothing to Jacob!” He lifted his hand and pointed at her. “You, Kate, with shoulders bearing such burdens.” She cringed at the sarcasm in his voice. “You live life despite the trail of casualties you leave in your wake.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said, opening her eyes and staring at him. How could he mention Jacob? How could he bring up that painful moment from so many years ago?

  “None of this is fair!” he shouted back at her, once again gesturing toward his wheelchair.

  The tears came to her eyes. “You know that I tried to tell you . . . to stop you . . .” She felt a hand on her knee and, to her horror, realized it was Samuel. For a moment, she had forgotten that he sat beside her. He had heard David’s accusations, had heard what horrid things David said. While she had already decided to share the truth about that night with Samuel, Kate now realized that David had stolen that opportunity from her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Daed stood up, his chair falling backward and rattling on the floor. “Enough!” He boomed. “I’ve heard enough!” He took a deep breath, making an attempt to calm down before he spoke again. “We must each appear before the judgment seat of Christ and take accord for our own actions.” He directed these words toward David. “You blame Kate as Adam blamed Eve. God did not accept that,” he said. “And neither will I. Not in this house!”

  A silence fell over the room and David lowered his eyes. The unspoken threat of being banished quieted his temper. Kate, however, felt a lump growing in her throat and tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

  He blames me. While she had known David harbored anger against her, she hadn’t truly understood why. Now, as she felt the depth of his hatred, it became clear: He accepted no responsibility for the bad decision he had made in drinking before the accident. Instead, he’d shifted all of the blame onto her.

  At this realization, her chest tightened and she felt light-headed. It was one thing to blame herself for not having spoken up. It was quite another thing to hear that he, too, blamed her.

  God can help you rise above your mistakes. Wasn’t that what her maem had always told her? After all, Scripture stated that faith was the substance of all things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. Now, just as she was releasing her guilt regarding her unspoken knowledge regarding David’s tendency toward alcohol, he outright accused her of being to blame?

  The recrimination stung, bringing back all of those negative feelings and questions of faith with which she struggled for so long. Despite her daed’s reminder that David must take culpability for his own actions, Kate understood that she, too, would one day stand before Jesus and be judged.

  The weight of that knowledge lay heavily on her shoulders. Unable to finish her meal, she folded her hands and laid them in her lap. She refused to look at anyone and couldn’t wait for the meal to finally end. As soon as the after-prayer was said, she stood up and immediately began to clear the table, knowing that moving around and staying busy was the only thing that could keep her from weeping.

  The tension in the air lingered long after David left the room. Kate stayed tucked in the corner of the kitchen, her mind focused on David’s harsh words and the memory of the hurtful expression on his face. His words kept ringing in her ears. She
wiped at her eyes, glad that no one could see the tears that escaped and fell down her cheek as she washed the dishes and set them aside.

  At four o’clock, with a forty-five-minute ride ahead of them, Thomas and Linda prepared to leave. He was going to be late for the evening milking. Linda packed up her basket of things before taking Stephen from Miriam and following her husband outside. Samuel lingered behind while the others joined them to say their good-byes.

  She felt him approach her. He hesitated, just for a moment, before he touched her arm and gently turned her so that she faced him. “Kate,” he started. “What David said . . .”

  Kate shook her head, swallowing as she tried to stop him from saying anything else. “Don’t,” she managed to whisper. “Please just don’t say anything.”

  “I want you to know that I don’t believe anything that he said.”

  Kate shut her eyes and bit her lower lip. Now, she told herself. It’s now or never. “But he spoke the truth, Samuel,” she blurted out, opening her eyes to look at him. It was painful to see his reaction. “What he said is all true.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, his blue eyes searching hers.

  Fighting tears, Kate nodded her head. “It’s true. It’s my fault that my brother Jacob died. And it’s my fault that David got into an accident.” She choked back a sob and wiped at her tears with the palm of her hand. “I’m a sinner, Samuel. Plain and simple. I wanted to tell you myself. I planned to anyway.”

  “A sinner?” Samuel repeated the word, disbelief in his voice.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” she heard herself say. “But I’m thinking I shouldn’t be accepting no more rides with you, Samuel.”

  He blinked at her announcement.

  “I . . . I’m not ungrateful for your rides and all,” she stammered. “And we sure do have nice conversations. I’ve enjoyed the fishing and the hiking and the picnic . . .”

  He raised an eyebrow. His silence encouraged her to continue.