by Price, Sarah
Looking forward to Mary Ruth’s quilting at Mamm and Daed’s farm. Will be a right gut way to spend a few cold Saturdays this winter. I’m sure Rachel and I will ride over together, if Elijah’s feeling well enough for her to leave for a few hours.
Well, I best be going. I hear some commotion outside. Something about a barn on fire nearby. Reckon I’ll be needed to help the women folk while the men fight it. Jonah is calling me sharply now. Must be urgent. Until next time.
Blessings,
Leah
Chapter 4: The Budget Letter
Menno pulled into the driveway, his eyes wide and his hands shaking as he tightened his grip on the reins. Noticing Menno’s nervousness and apprehension, his horse began to prance and stomp, reluctant to get close to its familiar surroundings, surroundings that were suddenly looking and smelling like anything but familiar. The buggy finally came to a stop behind the two large fire trucks and four buggies that clogged the turnaround. Menno wedged his horse between the other buggies, quickly tying it to the hitching post. The bright flames of the burning barn contrasted sharply with the white snow and gray sky. He could hardly believe his eyes and could barely comprehend that it was his barn, his dairy building, that was consumed by the flames, despite the firemen dousing it with water.
“Menno!”
It was Jonah who greeted him as Menno stood by the buggy, staring at the burning building.
“What has happened?” Menno asked, the color draining from his face and his voice cracking. He tried to take in the situation but none of it seemed real. A fire? The dairy? A surreal feeling floated over him and, for a moment, he felt as though he were dreaming. Only it wasn’t a dream…it was a nightmare.
“You best come inside,” Jonah said solemnly.
Menno snapped his gaze from the burning barn to his brother-in-law. “Is everyone all right?” When Jonah averted his eyes, Menno grabbed him by the shoulders. “The kinner?”
“Nee, the kinner are inside with Rachel and Leah. They were sleeping,” Jonah admitted slowly.
“Then who?” Menno turned his head and stared back at the burning building, too afraid to hear the answer. The firemen were still spraying the burning wood and two of Menno’s other neighbors were helping to corral the cows that had managed to escape. “Mary Ruth?” he whispered, returning his eyes to Jonah. “Such tragedy cannot happen twice to a man,” he managed to choke out.
Jonah hesitated, trying to avoid Menno’s look. It was clear that something was wrong but his brother-in-law didn’t want to tell him. It took a long thirty seconds before Jonah finally cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to stare directly at Menno. “We can’t find her,” he said.
The words were like a blow to Menno. He felt the wind knocked from his lungs and his knees felt weak. “What do you mean you can’t find her?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
Jonah took a deep breath. “I saw the fire from my own farm and used the barn phone to call for help. By the time that we got here, the Millers were already dealing with the fire. I left Leah here and went to fetch Rachel. When I returned, Leah said that she had searched the house and there was no sign of either one of you.”
“I was at the farm auction,” Menno whispered. “I was helping my bruder with his new purchases when the snow came. I couldn’t get back here. Wanted to wait out the storm.”
“We don’t know where Mary Ruth was at the time of the fire,” Jonah said, placing a hand on Menno’s shoulders. “God willing, she wasn’t here at all.”
A chill went through Menno. How would it be possible that Mary Ruth would be anywhere else? Where would she have gone at nighttime? He felt his heart start to palpitate. Of course Mary Ruth had been at home. Where else would she have been?
“Mein Gott!” he said softly, the realization of what had happened hitting him. “She must have been in the barn!”
“Now, we don’t know that,” Jonah said, but his voice faltered and gave away the fact that, indeed, everyone believed Mary Ruth was still in that barn. And if she was in the barn, she was, undoubtedly, not alive.
Menno felt weak and leaned against the side of the buggy to steady himself. He lifted his hand to his head and tried to think of any scenario that would have kept his wife out of that barn. But he could think of none. Was he a widower already? Would the good Lord have taken Mary Ruth so quickly after their wedding and well before they had experienced life together?
“I can’t go through this again,” he whispered, more to himself than to Jonah. “I just can’t.”
“Let’s get you inside, Menno. Rachel and Leah are there and will help you,” Jonah said, putting his arm around Menno’s shoulders and guiding him toward the house.
But, to his surprise, Menno resisted.
“Nee!” He shouted, shoving Jonah’s arm from him and turning back to the burning blaze. “If my wife is in there, I want to be here when they find her.” Without another word, Menno hurried over to where the two neighbors were using shovels to combat smaller flames near the front while the firefighters concentrated on the more severe fire: the hayloft over the back door.
Jonah shook his head, watching as the large man began to help fight the fire, using wet sacks to beat back the flames. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, Jonah walked back to the house, his shoulders slumped and his face drawn. What had been such a beautiful night, with the first snowfall of the season, had now turned into a nightmare.
Jonah hadn’t known that it was the Yoder farm when he had noticed the orange glow, all too telling of a fire, in the distance. He had called his wife to go with him so that they could help. But, as he had driven down the road and crossed the hill, it was Leah who had gasped aloud when she realized that the fire was at the Yoder farm. With no one moving to extinguish the flames, Jonah had known there was a larger problem looming in the near future. He just hadn’t realized that it would be Mary Ruth.
“Where’s Menno?” Rachel demanded when Jonah walked into the kitchen. “I heard a buggy and saw him out there. Where is he?”
Jonah shrugged. “Won’t come in. Wants to help.”
“Help with what?”
He glanced toward the window. “Fighting the fire, I reckon. Maybe saving Mary Ruth if she’s in there.”
At his words, Rachel caught her breath and sat down in the nearest chair. “Don’t say such a thing,” she hissed.
The stairs creaked and they both looked up in time to see Leah walking downstairs, her face ashen and void of color. She hesitated at the bottom step, quickly looking first at her husband and then her sister. “Don’t say what, Rachel?”
Rachel bit her lower lip, not wanting to repeat Jonah’s words, for fear of upsetting Leah.
“Let’s face it,” Jonah responded for Rachel. “She’s nowhere to be found and would never have left those kinner alone, especially not at night!”
Leah turned her gaze back to her husband. Her heart still stung from his scolding earlier that morning. All day, she had spent cleaning that kitchen and basically ignoring Caleb. Fortunately, he remained content to play with his toys in the playpen, something that Jonah had commented on when he returned to the house to inspect her work. That, too, had pierced Leah’s heart.
“Don’t you steal hope from us, Jonah,” Rachel whispered.
Leah lifted her chin defiantly but said nothing in response to Rachel’s words. She was not about to defend Jonah, not after the way he had treated her of late.
“We should pray!” Rachel said and, without another word, fell to her knees and pressed her face against the seat of the chair where she had just been sitting. Reluctantly, Leah followed her older sister’s example while Jonah watched. He stood there, frowning for a moment and then, with a sigh, knelt to pray with his wife and sister-in-law.
“What on earth?”
The three of them looked up as the kitchen door opened and more people filed into the room: Miriam, Isaac, Steve, and Elias along with the bishop and two deacons. Rachel, Leah, and Jonah scrambled to the
ir feet as the Miriam removed her wrap and handed it to Elias to hang on the peg by the door.
Miriam hustled over to Rachel. “Where’s Mary Ruth? Where’s Menno?”
Rachel averted her eyes, not being able to look at her mother. Leah tried to open her mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. To both daughters’ shame, their mother looked from one to the other, expecting an answer but receiving none.
It was Jonah who cleared his throat and answered. “Menno’s fighting the fire. Mary Ruth is missing.”
A sharp cry escaped Miriam’s lips and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand as if trying to suppress anything else from escaping.
Elias glanced at the bishop. “We best be helping outside then,” he said glumly. “Not doing anything useful inside.”
It was almost two in the morning before the fire was contained. Rachel and Miriam continued to make fresh coffee and brought it to the men outside while Leah kept checking on the children. No one spoke, they just moved through the motions. When the men finally came inside, all of them except Menno, no one knew what to say. An uncomfortable silence befell the kitchen where everyone was gathered.
“Menno?” Miriam asked, choking back her grief.
Elias shook his head and looked away. Menno had refused to leave the burnt-out shell of his barn. He simply stood there, his eyes glazed over and his arms hanging by his sides. He stared into the remains of the building, a vacant look on his face. He was not about to leave Mary Ruth in that barn and had told her daed that much. But Elias didn’t want to share that information with his wife. They had never lost a child before and Mary Ruth was so young to be called back to God that Elias wasn’t certain how to express the grief that he was feeling.
“Is there any sign of…?” Miriam’s words trailed off. She was unable to finish the question.
No one responded. Their silence gave the answer that no one wanted to hear.
Miriam sank into the sofa against the far kitchen wall, the tears falling freely from her eyes. Rachel sat next to her, trying her best to comfort her mother but, as she felt the same pain in her heart, she was also crying.
The bishop cleared his throat and asked that everyone kneel for a prayer. He spoke in Pennsylvania Dutch as he prayed aloud, asking for the blessing on the newly departed soul of Mary Ruth Yoder. Afterwards, no one spoke. The silence fell heavy on the room and, without Menno there, no one was certain how to proceed.
Typically, the undertaker would be called to remove the body and prepare it for the funeral. The relatives would sit to discuss the wake and funeral service. Yet, there was no body to prepare and no husband to consult. It was an unusual circumstance and one that no one knew how to address.
Menno watched as the police consulted with the firemen. For the past hour, the firemen had been shifting through burnt wood and debris, trying to locate the source of the fire. Four of them were crowded around the lights of the fire truck, staring at something in one of the fireman’s hands. They glanced over their shoulders at Menno before bending their heads together one more time.
He didn’t care. His heart was heavy and he knew that she was gone. So was his second chance at happiness. He had let it slip away, his pride getting in the way of expressing himself to Mary Ruth, that feisty young woman that had honored him with her hand in marriage only to rebuff him on their wedding night. Still, he should not have shut her out. Perhaps she had just been nervous and scared. Indeed, in hindsight, Menno knew that he should have continued courting her until she was ready to be his true wife.
“Mr. Yoder,” one of the police officers said as he approached Menno. “A moment of your time?”
Menno frowned and nodded. A moment of his time? That was all he had now. Time. “Ja?”
“The men found this near that back door, the area that seemed the hardest hit,” he said and held up an object, using a special glove to hold it. “Appears to be a piece of a broken lantern.”
Menno stared at it.
“There was nothing else around it except the remains of some hay bales and the burnt metal from a pitchfork, I reckon. Must have caught fire and taken off from there. That’s why the back area was so badly damaged and why so many of the cows managed to get out.”
Menno continued to stare at the lantern. Had Mary Ruth been there and managed to get the cows freed? If so, where was she now? “I reckon so,” Menno answered slowly. “Has there been any sign…” His voice faltered. “Sign of my wife?”
“Well, that’s just the thing,” the officer said. He removed his hat and scratched at his head. “You lost a few cows but they seemed to have died of smoke inhalation, not from being burned.” He paused and looked up at Menno. “There are no human remains in the barn, Mr. Yoder.”
At first, that news caused Menno’s heart to soar. There was still a chance! If they hadn’t found her body, she must not have been in the barn. Yet, as soon as he understood what the officer was telling him, a different thought crossed his mind. If Mary Ruth were alive and well, she would not remain hidden. So where was she? He wondered, for just the briefest of moments, if she had left him.
The officer took a deep breath. “Come daylight, maybe some more evidence will turn up but for now, the consensus is that she was not in the barn, Mr. Yoder.”
Then where is she? Menno couldn’t help asking himself this question, his mind trying to come up with a dozen different scenarios. Had she gone to visit her family? No, he told himself, for she would never leave the kinner alone, especially at night. Had she gone for a walk? That didn’t make sense, either, for she would have returned by now. His mind flickered to that one niggling thought that, perhaps, she had packed up and left. Was it possible?
“Well, you best get inside, Mr. Yoder. No sense standing out here freezing to death,” the officer said.
Menno said nothing, merely nodding his head.
He waited until the officials were occupied before he turned to leave the spot where he had stood for the past two hours. He wandered around the remains of the barn, shaking his head at the destruction and loss. The barn could be replaced but Mary Ruth? If she wasn’t in the barn, where could she possibly be? He wandered aimlessly in the dark, deep in thought as he worried that she might have been inside the barn, perhaps in the hayloft when the fire had struck. If she had, they’d never find her. Yet, the officer hadn’t said that.
Pausing by his buggy, Menno tilted his head and glanced back at the barn. For a second, an idea came to him and he reached inside the buggy, under the seat, to get a flashlight. He flicked it on and, with a quick glance over his shoulder to make certain the police and firemen were not watching him, he began to circle around the barn.
Mary Ruth was strong, of that he was sure and certain. If she had been there when the fire had started, she would have tried her best to free the cows, as many as she could. But then what? His feet crunched on the snow as he walked a long and wide perimeter, at least forty feet from the shell of the barn. He shone the light around the fields, looking for hope against hope that he would see her there.
Nothing.
There was a small dip in the ground and Menno slid his way down the hill toward the stream that ran through the back of the property. He fell once, the coldness of the snow quickly turning to wet on his clothing. Standing, he brushed it off and shone the light around again. This time, it fell upon an old stone pump house, one that he no longer used as the well brought water to the house.
His heart raced as he approached it. The snow was not unmarred and he followed the trail. As he neared it, the flashlight beam flickered and he had to hit the side of it twice in order for it to continue shining on the ground.
There was a small opening and, when he bent down to peer inside, he saw her.
“Mein Gott!” He flung the light aside and crawled into the pump house. She was crumpled on her side, the thick smell of smoke clinging to her clothing. He pulled at her legs, dragging her out of the old stone structure until she was outside, lying on the snow. He felt te
ars of joy as he drew her to his chest, holding her tight so that the warmth of his body could thaw her. She was cold but he could feel her chest moving, ever so slightly.
Scooping her into his arms, he struggled to his feet and began what seemed to be a long journey home. She was limp and seemed lifeless but she was still breathing. That was all that mattered. His feet slid on the snow but he managed to stay upright as he struggled up the small hill and toward the lights that shown in the driveway from the fire trucks.
“I have her!” he tried to shout but his voice came out cracked and unintelligible. He tried again, this time, his voice booming in the night. “She’s here!”
He held her tight to his chest as he raced toward the house, repeating himself over and over again. From inside, someone must have heard him for Steve flung open the door and helped him carry her inside. There was a collective gasp among the people in the kitchen but Menno ignored them, heading immediately for the downstairs bedroom. He kicked open the door and, while still holding her, flung back the covers of the bed.
Gently, he lowered Mary Ruth onto the mattress and quickly removed her shoes. With his giant hands, he rubbed at her toes and legs, trying to get the circulation moving. Then, he pulled the covers up, tucking them under her chin.
“Get more blankets,” he growled over his shoulder. “Upstairs!”
No one questioned him. Instead, they immediately moved, the commotion in the kitchen loud and active. Menno ignored it as he sat beside his wife, using his hands to massage warmth into her limbs.
“Come on, come on,” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving her face. “You have to make it, Mary Ruth. I need you ever so much,” he whispered. “I love you ever so much.” He continued rubbing her skin, oblivious to Rachel tossing two more heavy quilts over Mary Ruth’s body. Miriam and Leah stood in the doorway, unable to contain the flow of tears streaming down their cheeks and clinging to each other as they praised the Lord that Menno had found his wife, that she was still alive, and that she would most likely survive.