by Leslie Gould
I felt like Job in the Bible as I walked on, rubbing my backside. My Dat was dead, my Mamm possibly gravely ill. The man who’d jilted me just happened to turn up in the same campground—with his new girlfriend. My sister had turned against me, as had my best friend. The man I loved suddenly didn’t seem all that interested in me. And the land I loved would probably soon be sold—to my half brother.
Overhead, in the patch of sky visible above the trail, gray clouds gathered. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face. I swiped it away.
Though I hadn’t admitted it to myself, I was out in the forest looking for Leon and Hannah, hoping to stop what I feared was happening between them. It wasn’t like me to grovel—but that’s what I was doing, coming after them.
As much as I hated to admit it, Beatrice had been right. I’d been more controlling than usual lately. Perhaps with all that had happened—all that I hadn’t been able to control—I was grasping to take charge of all I could. I did have high expectations about how things should be done. And I’d been projecting—a term I’d learned from Cate—those expectations onto everyone else. What did it matter if the dishes were done an hour later, or bleach wasn’t used in the rinse water?
The hot breeze picked up more as I neared the meadow. I stopped and leaned against the bark of a silver maple tree, its umbrella of leaves shimmering above my head. Lord, what am I doing?
Not trusting, that was for sure.
In a moment of conviction I started to turn around. But then I heard a yelp, a man’s voice. Mervin’s? Curiosity got the best of me, and against my better judgment, I continued up the trail.
When I reached the meadow, I didn’t see Mervin, but Hannah and Leon were sitting on the rock—where he’d sat with me two evenings before—side by side, the horses grazing untethered nearby. I froze on the path, willing myself to turn around, to flee, to not subject myself to any more embarrassment.
But before I could move, Mervin came through the trees to the left of me, marching into the meadow, his dark glasses pushed on top of his head.
Hannah saw him too. She stood, calling out his name.
“How could you?” Mervin asked her. “After all we’ve gone through.”
Hannah looked toward Leon and then back at Mervin. “What are you talking about?” She planted both hands on her hips and started walking toward the trail, looking back and forth as she did. Finally she yelled, “Molly! Where are you?”
When I didn’t answer, she bellowed, “I know you’re out there. You wouldn’t miss this! Why would you do this to me?”
Confused, I stepped backward on the trail, tripping over a tree root. To keep from landing on my backside again, I lurched forward, accidentally falling to my knees, where I stayed.
Leon’s voice, full of surprise, called my name next, but as a question.
I didn’t answer.
“She didn’t put me up to anything—honest,” Mervin said.
“Molly!” Hannah shouted again.
“She’s right there.” Mervin pointed at me. “On the trail.”
I stood quickly and turned around, tears stinging my eyes.
“Come back here,” Mervin yelled at me.
I froze. He’d never spoken to me that way before.
“Please,” he pled. “Tell Hannah the truth.” He sounded as if his heart was breaking—the exact way I felt.
I turned back around. He motioned to me. I obliged. When I came out of the trees, Hannah and Leon were standing apart, staring at me.
How could they treat Mervin and me so badly?
“Hannah,” Mervin belted out, sounding as if he was emboldened with me close by. “How could you do this to me? Don’t you know I love you?”
She broke out into a grin, until Leon stepped forward and asked, “Is Mervin who you want, Hannah?”
Her face fell as she looked from Mervin to Leon and then to me.
“Because,” Leon said, “you don’t have to—”
Hannah’s expression contorted. “I’m finally catching on.” She sneered. “Mervin doesn’t really want me.” She marched toward me. “Molly, how could you?”
I stepped behind Mervin. “How could I what?” I tried to keep my voice calm. Hannah was closer to the brink than I’d feared.
“Set them up to make a fool out of me!” She started around one side of Mervin.
I darted to the other. “I didn’t.”
“You did.” She grabbed Mervin’s arm, spinning him around as she tried to grab me from the other side.
I pointed to Mervin. “Look at him, Hannah. He loves you. Don’t you?” I clutched his other arm.
Hannah screamed again, this time without words, and stomped into the forest. The three of us didn’t move for a moment, but then I followed her, leaving Mervin with Leon and the horses.
“Hannah,” I called out. “Wait!”
I never would have guessed Hannah could be so agile traipsing through the forest. While I crashed through, snagging my dress on twigs and tripping over roots, she seemed to glide. In no time she was far ahead of me. Maybe she wasn’t as despondent as I’d feared. She certainly seemed to have a lot of energy. When she was depressed before, she shut down. She never would have fled through a forest. Maybe she was just angry this time. But her emotions were unfounded. If she’d only listened to Mervin and me.
And Leon—except he actually hadn’t said anything in my defense. In fact, he’d come to Hannah’s defense, saying she didn’t have to . . . Have to what? Marry Mervin? When she could marry Leon instead?
My heart fell—hard.
Once I caught a view of the lake below, I decided to keep going toward it. When the slope of the hill grew steeper, I carefully made my way, taking sideways steps. Halfway down, I stopped and rested, taking in the view below. Hannah was nowhere to be seen, but I thought the smoke coming from the other side of the lake was from Jessie’s family’s campsite.
I couldn’t make out any activity from where I thought our camp should be, not even two horses heading down the road, but two canoes were in the middle of the lake. The four orange life jackets were hard to miss. Each canoe had a man—probably Phillip and Jessie’s Dat—and two boys, most likely Jessie’s brothers. Phillip was the youngest of a big family and his parents were as old as my Dat had been. It was probably a good thing for him to spend time with Jessie and her family. Maybe he would learn how to be a good husband and father from Mr. Berg. If not, perhaps Jessie would train him all on her own. She seemed like the kind of girl who could accomplish that.
One thing I knew, even though we were Plain, we were all very different. Including Hannah. I sighed again.
She would find her way, when she wanted to.
The day grew even stickier. On the horizon storm clouds billowed, a storm brewing in the distance.
I continued on, finally coming out of the brush and trees above the lake. I crossed over the road, deciding to follow the shoreline back to camp.
But as I passed through the trees between the road and the water, I saw a figure sitting at a picnic table, writing in a book. “Beatrice?”
She looked up, a dazed look on her face. “What are you doing here?” Before I could answer, she struggled to her feet. “Are you all right?”
I hadn’t noticed until she asked that dirt and moss stained my apron. Scratches covered my arms and legs. And I’d torn the hem of my dress. I looked back up at my sister. “On the inside or the outside?”
“Both?” she said, stepping away from the table, leaving her journal.
I nodded. But the truth was, I hurt badly. For the first time ever, I was sure, she reached out to hug me.
“I’m sorry about what I said yesterday—about you being controlling.”
“Ach, that’s okay. You were right.” I sat down at the table as she returned to where she’d been sitting, and spilled out the short version of what had just happened.
“Oh, Molly,” she said. “So Hannah thinks you put Mervin and Leon up to acting like they love
her, just to hurt her?”
“I . . . think so.”
“And you think Hannah stole Leon from you?”
I nodded again.
“You’re both moronic,” she said.
“What?”
“Jah. You’ve been friends since you were tiny. Why would you treat each other this way?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Except you believe she stole Leon.”
“But she did.”
“You don’t know that.”
I glared at my sister. I needed her to sympathize with me, not chide me.
“They were sitting together.”
“On a rock, you said.”
I nodded.
Beatrice squinted. “So was it a really big rock? Were they sitting far away from each other?”
“No, side by side.”
“Did you or Mervin ask for an explanation?”
“No.” Actually, I hadn’t thought to. And there certainly hadn’t been time.
Beatrice sighed. “I apologized for what I said about you being controlling—but part of it is true. First you wanted to go on this trip for fun. Then you didn’t because of Mamm. Then you did when Leon wanted to go. But you didn’t want to invite Mervin. Then when it seemed getting Mervin to fall back in love with Hannah would work to your advantage, you were okay with it.”
I chose not to react to Beatrice’s accusations.
“I know you, Molly. Remember, I’ve been watching you my entire life.”
I exhaled slowly.
“So you had a plan and it backfired. Don’t punish Hannah for it.”
“Punish her. I can’t even find her.”
Beatrice seemed a little alarmed. “She’s lost?”
“No. I’m sure she knows exactly where she is.” She was the one who had been riding horses her entire life. She probably had a built-in compass. Or the horse did. But she wasn’t riding a horse . . .
I pushed the thought out of my mind. “She doesn’t want to be found,” I said. “She purposefully evaded me.” I stood. “I’m going back to camp, where I can count the minutes until we can go home.” Home. At this rate, it wouldn’t be ours for long.
“That’s it?” Beatrice stood too.
“What do you mean?”
“Your best friend is lost in the woods.”
I shook my head. “She’s not lost.”
“And the man you love—”
“Stop!” My heart lurched.
She crossed her arms. “It’s your pride,” she said. “You hate to be wrong. And you hate even more for someone to tell you you’re wrong.”
“That’s not true.”
She sat back down at the table and opened her journal. I could only imagine what she was going to write. “Have fun writing about me.”
She didn’t bother to look up. “Believe me, I have better things to write about.”
I knew I needed to do something. I just wasn’t sure my going back into the forest was it. Besides, Leon and Mervin were more likely to find Hannah—when she was ready to be found—than I.
I limped back to camp. Cate would know what I should do.
When I returned to the campsite, Cate was curled up on the blanket outside their tent next to Pete, with Robbie between the two of them, covered by his blanket. They were all asleep, or so I thought. I didn’t mean to be spying—and I didn’t feel as if I was, until Pete placed his hand on Cate’s stomach. She smiled, her eyes still closed, and wrapped her hand around his.
It was such an intimate gesture that my face grew warm. According to Hannah, who’d heard it from Addie, Cate had lost a baby two years before. We’d all been hoping she’d have another chance soon.
Now it looked as if that hope had come true. Tears stung my eyes again—both out of joy for Cate and Pete and fear for myself. Would I ever experience the love they shared? My heart lurched again.
Martin and Ben must have gone hiking—or maybe fishing—because they weren’t around. I changed my dress and apron, then did my best to scrub my legs and arms. Beatrice came back to camp and went straight to our tent. Cate and Pete were scheduled to fix dinner, but I hated to rouse them from their rest.
Deciding I’d watch the storm roll in over the mountains, I headed back down to the lake but stopped at the shore when I saw Phillip and the rest of their group. The canoes were both at the dock, and Jessie’s Dat was climbing out of his. The boys climbed out too, but Phillip stayed put. A few minutes later, his Dat returned, carrying Bella, who was wearing her life jacket, followed by Jessie, carrying a life jacket, and her Mamm. Mr. Berg placed Bella in the canoe, in front of Phillip, and then after Jessie had cinched her jacket she climbed into the second one. One of the older brothers climbed in behind her and then one of the younger brothers climbed in the middle. The Mamm bent down and kissed Bella, and the parents waved and headed back to the trail. It looked as if they were going off on a hike, all alone, something they probably didn’t do often.
Clearly they were trusting Phillip with Bella. Perhaps they saw more in him than I did.
Both Jessie and one of her brothers paddled their canoe, but of course Phillip was alone in paddling his. He kept up with them easily though. The sound of their voices carried across the lake. Although I couldn’t make out their words, I could tell they were having fun. A peal of laughter—Bella’s, I was sure—lifted my spirits, just a bit.
The warm breeze turned into a wind as I watched, standing in the shadows of the trees. Farther up the shore from me, Martin and Ben fished. They called out to Jessie and Phillip, and the canoes, gliding side by side, just a couple of oar lengths apart, made their way across the lake.
When they reached the middle, they stopped, and the boy in the middle of Jessie’s canoe stood. He called out to Phillip, who shook his head, but as he did the boy leapt out of the canoe. I was sure he’d land in the water, but the canoes had drifted closer together, and he managed to make it—almost—to Phillip’s canoe.
What happened next took only a split second. He must have grabbed the side and tried to climb in but instead he pulled the canoe over. As Phillip and Bella spilled out, the other brother, still in the canoe with Jessie, stood in horror.
Jessie’s voice surged over the lake as they capsized too. I ran along the shore, aiming to get to the dock, fearing Bella was trapped beneath the canoe. There were no other boats in sight, but I hoped someone in one of the nearby campsites had a raft or a rowboat or another canoe.
Phillip’s head popped up out of the water, frantically looking around. In a split second he disappeared to the other side of the canoe and then a moment later reappeared with Bella.
“Bring her to the dock,” I yelled. That would be faster than me sending a boat after them. Thank God they all had life jackets on. “Boys,” I yelled. “You bring in the canoes.”
Jessie helped her youngest brother get one while the older boy got the other. Phillip made good progress, holding Bella’s head out of the water. Martin and Ben ran along the far shore, their fishing poles bobbing up and down.
I reached the dock first, but Phillip wasn’t far away—only fifty yards or so. I had no idea he’d do so well in the water. Martin and Ben rounded the curve of the lake as I got down on my knees at the end of the dock.
“You’re doing great, Bella,” I called out. “Phillip almost has you to the shore.”
By the time he reached the dock, I could tell he was exhausted. He reached for the dock’s edge, pulling himself and Bella as close as possible. I leaned down, extending my arms. “I can take her,” I said.
Phillip’s hand shook a little as he pulled Bella around, with her back toward me. I grabbed her under her armpits and lifted, dragging her up to the dock.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, hoisting her into my arms. She shook her head, taking a raggedy breath, followed by a shudder. Her face was wet, but she didn’t seem to be crying. Her Kapp was soaked and her bun had come undone, her wet hair plastered to her face.
She bega
n to shiver uncontrollably as the wind whipped around her body. Phillip hoisted himself onto the dock and looked back over the lake. Jessie and the boys with the canoes were still far from the dock but making good progress.
“Take her back to camp,” Jessie called out. “Get her out of her wet clothes.”
“Are you all right?” Phillip asked Jessie, positioned as if he might jump back in.
“We’re fine,” she shouted.
I started for their camp. Bella felt light in my arms. Phillip said he’d take her, but I told him to go on ahead and get a towel.
Before I reached camp, two of the other brothers came running from the woods, one with their baby sister in his arms. The other one took Bella from me. By the time they led me to their parents’ tent, Phillip had a towel ready. I took it from him.
I followed the boys into the tent, and the brother carrying Bella placed her on a cot with side rails. The brother carrying the baby put her in a portable crib at the far end.
“Is this Bella’s suitcase?” I pointed to a zippered bag at the end of the cot.
He nodded, taking off her Kapp as he did and then her apron. But then he looked at me and said, “Can you do the rest?”
“Of course,” I answered.
By then the baby was crying, and both boys went to her, taking her out of the tent.
“Is she okay?” Phillip asked from outside the tent.
“Jah,” I answered, not realizing he’d stuck around. “You should go help Jessie.”
“Denki, Molly,” he said, his voice cracking a little.
“No problem,” I responded. “Now go.”
His hurried footsteps fell away from the tent.
Bella seemed fine with my undressing her, drying her, and then redressing her. I worked gently and efficiently, surprised that it came so easily to me, considering how little childcare I’d done. She was able to move her right arm easily enough and helped me as best she could. I chatted away, telling her Jessie and the boys would soon be to the dock with the canoes, that they probably were already, and how thankful I was that Phillip was strong and a good swimmer.