Amish Circle Letters II: The Second Circle of Letters

by Price, Sarah

  “I must say,” she started, turning to the kinner. “It sure is nice to be home! And I am quite pleased with how nice everything looks!”

  Melvin refused to meet her eyes but the three little girls beamed from ear to ear. Suzanna clapped her hands and hopped up and down. “We wanted it nice for you, Mamm!”

  “Well,” Mary Ruth said, a smile on her face. “I sure can see that!” She took a deep breath, feeling at ease in the presence of what she considered her home. It struck her that she hadn’t realized how comfortable she had become in the house until she had been taken back to her parents’ farm. Now, with Menno’s new caring attitude, everything was right as rain. “Mayhaps you’d take my things to the bedroom, ja?” she asked Melvin. “And you girls can help me make a nice supper then.”

  Without a word, Melvin carried her two small bags into the bedroom. Mary Ruth stared after him for a second, wondering what was bothering the boy. He had been avoiding her since arriving at her parents’ farm and had been completely silent on the ride back home. But a gentle tugging at her dress redirected her attention to Ruth Ann.

  “We already have supper prepared in the refrigerator, Mamm,” the small girl said, a look of pride on her face.

  Mary Ruth raised an eyebrow. “Well then,” she said. “I see that I have nothing to do but sit and relax a spell!”

  “That’s just what you’ll do, Mary Ruth,” Menno said as he walked into the kitchen. “You relax and let us take care of you tonight.” He walked over to the sink and washed his hands before turning to her as he reached for a towel to dry them. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  She met his gaze and saw that he was watching her with a strong look in his eyes. There was concern there and she was pleased to recognize it. “Ja, we all have,” she admitted. “But I’m home now, Menno.”

  He nodded his head. “And this is where you will stay,” he said. Setting the towel on the counter, he crossed the room and took her arm, guiding her toward the sitting area. “Now, you sit and let the girls fetch you some tea.” He didn’t wait for her response before he glanced at his daughters. “You heard me now. Fetch your mamm some tea.”

  Sitting next to her on the sofa, Menno turned his body to face her. He didn’t speak, not at first. Instead, he watched her as if staring at a vision. The intensity of his expression made her blush and she had to look away.

  “What is it, Menno?” she whispered. “Why are you staring at me so?”

  He glanced at the girls for a moment, confirming that they were busy preparing Mary Ruth’s tea and not paying attention to him. Then, he reached out for his wife’s hand. He cleared his throat and leaned forward so that his words could reach her ears and no one else’s.

  “I was worried about you, Mary Ruth. Frightfully so. The thought of you having been…” He let the words linger between them, not wishing to speak the unthinkable. “I…I don’t know what I did to turn you away from me after the wedding…”

  Immediately, Mary Ruth straightened her back and pulled away from him, surprised at his words. “I turned away?” She frowned. “But it was you who…” She stopped in mid-sentence, not wishing to complain about Menno’s behavior.

  “Me?”

  Mary Ruth shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing.”

  Menno glanced over his shoulder again at the girls. “We can continue this later, I reckon,” he said. “In private.”

  Nodding her head, Mary Ruth agreed. “In private.”

  Leaning back again, Menno sighed. “Now, if we only knew what had caused the fire!” He scratched at his head, his fingers mussing his brown curls. “While the most important thing is that you are better, I’m still concerned about that.” He looked at her for a second. “You remember nothing?”

  Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as Melvin cleared his throat. “I left your bags in the bedroom,” he said.

  Menno looked at his son. “Gut, Melvin. Danke.”

  His question about the fire was forgotten as the girls came over, carefully carrying a cup of hot tea and a plate of cookies for Mary Ruth. She laughed in delight at the care they had taken and graciously accepted the offering. Then, patting the sofa next to her, she invited the girls to join her. Menno moved over to the chair to make room for his daughters, smiling to himself as he watched Mary Ruth share the treats with the girls. Yet, when she offered a cookie to Melvin, he merely shook his head and asked if he could go upstairs to lie down for a spell.

  “You feeling poorly, then?” Mary Ruth asked, concern in her voice.

  “Nee,” Melvin replied, his eyes on the floor. “Just tired, is all.” Quietly, he stole up the stairs, oblivious to the fact that Menno and Mary Ruth trailed him with their eyes.

  Once he had disappeared and the sound of his door latching shut was heart, Mary Ruth turned back to Menno. “What is that about?”

  He shrugged. “Been that way since the fire,” he told her. “Reckon he was in shock. Mayhaps thought too much about his mamm’s death.”

  Silence.

  Mary Ruth imagined that the boy had been frightened by the ordeal. After all, it had only been six months ago when he had witnessed his mother’s gruesome death on the hay baler. The fact that the fire could have killed his new mamm would certainly cause a heavy burden on his heart. Yet, something troubled her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. If only she could remember what it was that was bothering her, she thought.

  Miriam and Elias sat in Rachel’s kitchen, watching as their oldest daughter fussed over her husband. He was sitting in his chair, his face pale and drawn. With a blanket tucked under his chin, only his thinning beard sticking out, Elijah looked as though he had aged fifteen years in just two short weeks.

  “You comfortable, ja?” Rachel asked, smoothing the blanket over Elijah’s legs. “Don’t want you getting any drafts now.”

  He licked his lips and mumbled, “Thirsty.”

  Without missing a beat, Rachel hurried to the sink to pour her husband a glass of water. “Just a little,” she coaxed as she held the glass to his lips. “Not too much or you’ll be sick again.”

  Miriam shut her eyes at the sight of the man sipping water, so helpless and defeated. His breath was raspy and hoarse, a clear sign that the cancer was worse than before. Even with the treatments, it was obvious that his health was failing.

  “There, now,” Rachel said, dabbing at his chin with the edge of a cloth. “You rest a bit, Elijah. Mamm and Daed don’t mind at all, ain’t so?” She glanced at her parents.

  Elias raised his hand. “Rest is gut,” he said. “Don’t mind us. We won’t stay long.”

  Miriam looked at her daughter and took a deep breath. “Rachel, mayhaps we can speak a moment in the washroom, ja?”

  Out of Elijah’s hearing, Miriam turned to her daughter and, in a rare gesture of affection, placed her hands on Rachel’s shoulders, holding her at arms’ length. “Dochder,” she started. “You are holding up well, I see that. But I also see that his health is failing. Why didn’t you contact us?”

  Rachel waved her hand at her mother, taking a step backward in order to release herself from her mother’s hold. “What are you talking about, Mamm?” she started. “Elijah is going to be just fine. You wait and see.”

  “Rachel…”

  “Nee!” Rachel snapped, a sudden look of fire in her eyes. “I won’t hear anything else than positive thoughts. My husband will beat this and we will be fine.”

  “You need to consider the possibility…”

  “Mamm, I said nee!” Rachel shook her head rapidly. “I will consider only one possibility and that is recovery. Elijah will be here to keep working the farm and providing for us.”

  “And if not?”

  Straightening her shoulders, Rachel smoothed down her black apron and lifted her chin. “There is no ‘if not’, Mamm. God will take care of His children.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen.

&nbs
p; Miriam stared after her headstrong daughter, her heart breaking for the pain that she knew Rachel was feeling, despite her best intentions to appear strong and positive. “Please God,” Miriam whispered. “Tend to my dochder’s wounded heart and spare this family any unnecessary pain.”

  Mary Ruth stood at the window of the bedroom, her hand resting on the windowsill as she stared outside. The sky was clear and the moon was almost full, not quite but just enough to illuminate the back fields. She couldn’t see any stars, just darkness and the moon. It was beautiful, despite the emptiness of the night. She sighed and smiled to herself.

  “What was that for?”

  She looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard Menno enter the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her. “It’s good to be home,” she said softly.

  “Home.” He repeated the word as if tasting it. “Do you really think of this as home, then?” He took a few steps into the room, pausing to shut the door behind him before he approached her. “Is it home, Mary Ruth?” he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

  Shyly, she nodded her head. “Ja, Menno,” she said. “It’s my home. With you and the kinner, it’s my home indeed.”

  She saw him chew on the corner of his lip as he contemplated what she said. His expression was soft as he stared down at her, standing before him in her white nightgown. He caressed her arms gently for just a moment before, with the slightest bit of a hesitation, he pulled her into his arms to embrace her.

  “Ah Mary Ruth,” he sighed, breathing in the scent of her hair. Lavender. “I have missed you so. And I am so sorry about whatever misunderstanding we had.”

  Pressing her cheek against his shoulder, she shut her eyes and found herself slipping away. The strength of his arms around her comforted her. “I am, too,” she whispered. “I’m so glad that you found the notes I left you. That you know how much I love you.”

  “Notes?” Menno pulled back and looked down at her. Raising his hand to her cheek, he brushed his fingertips across her skin. “What notes?”

  “Why, the notes I left under your pillow!” She frowned. “I had left them in the barn that morning with your coffee. I thought you had found them but didn’t care.”

  He was confused by her words, not understanding what she was saying. “What are you talking about?”

  “I wanted you to know how much I love you so I left you Bible verses. First in the coffee mug that I left on the hay bale in the dairy and then, I left the other one on your pillow. When I realized you hadn’t seen them, I came home right away from Anna’s and found the second one on the floor, under your bed. It must have blown off the pillow when you opened the door.”

  Menno shook his head, still not clear about what Mary Ruth was saying. “I have never seen any notes.”

  “Why Menno!” she said, laughing lightly. “Surely you have seen them under the pillow!” She left his side and walked to the bed. Pulling back the quilt, she lifted the pillow and, sure enough, the notes were still there. It took her a second to realize what she was seeing. “Have you not slept in the bed, Menno, since the fire?”

  Sheepishly, he shook his head as he walked to her side and reached down for the notes. “How could I sleep in my marriage bed without my wife,” he murmured, his fingers toying with the two pieces of paper. “Now, let me see about these notes, Mary Ruth. I am most curious.”

  The papers crinkled as he unfolded them. She watched as his blue eyes flickered back and forth, reading the words that she had so painstakingly written on the pieces of paper. When he was finished, he stared at them for a long moment before he looked back into her face, his eyes seeking hers.

  “Why didn’t I see the one you left in my coffee mug?” he asked, a sense of concern in his voice.

  “I…” It began to dawn on her, what had been bothering her earlier that evening. It was as if a light was clearing the darkness from her memory. Everything came back to her and she suddenly had a sinking feeling inside of her chest. Dread. “It was Melvin,” she whispered. “He had taken the note.”

  “Melvin?”

  Mary Ruth nodded her head. “When I went to pick up the sweater at Anna’s, she showed me the note. Melvin had sent it to Katie.”

  A frown crossed his face. “What?”

  “Ja,” she said. “He must have found it and sent it to her.”

  “I don’t believe this!” He lifted his hand to his head and looked around the room as if seeking an answer from the air. “Did you confront him?”

  “Nee.” Mary Ruth reached out and touched Menno’s arm. “But there’s more, Menno. I remember now.”

  He stopped and stared at her, the color starting to drain from his cheeks. “More?”

  “When I realized what had happened, I hurried home. I had decided to surprise you…to have a special…” She hesitated, embarrassed to admit to what she had thought that night. “Special welcome when you returned from the farm auction.” The color rose to her cheeks and she averted her eyes, too self-conscious to meet his gaze. “I had asked Melvin to do your chores so that you wouldn’t have any work when you returned. He left a pitchfork on the floor and the lantern on. I reminded him to pick up the pitchfork and outten the light.” The memory was coming back to her now, all of it as if a wave washed over her. It sent a chill down her spine as she remembered. “But it was after they went to bed, I saw the light was still on in the back of the barn.” She lifted her eyes and stared at Menno, too aware of what her words meant.

  The muscles in his jaw tensed and she saw a dark shadow cross his face. This news was not what he wanted to hear, that was for sure and certain. Suddenly it all made sense to Menno: the disappearing notes from Mary Ruth, the lantern left burning, the pitchfork forgotten on the ground. For a moment, his face turned to crimson and the expression in his eyes said it all. “So that must be why he is moping around,” Menno said, more to himself than to Mary Ruth. “Guilt. And rightly so.”

  He was angry. That she could see. The mood in the room had shifted and Mary Ruth tried to turn it around. She stood before Menno and let her hand fall so that she touched his, allowing their fingers to entwine. “Menno,” she whispered. “Please…The important thing is that we are now back together, as a family”

  He looked at her, anger at his son still evident in his blue eyes. She had seen that look many times before in the first weeks after Martha’s death. But she had broken through that rough exterior before. Now it was time to do it again.

  “I don’t want this to ruin…” She let her voice trail off, the sentence left unfinished.

  The silence lingered between them, their fingers touching. Something softened in his eyes as he watched her. There was a light, a glow about his expression.

  “We are here now and everything is fine,” she whispered. “And it’s time, don’t you think?” She smiled, a soft and tender smile. “Too much time has been wasted already, ain’t so?”

  His chest lifted as he took a deep breath and considered her statement. Without saying another word, he lifted his hand to touch her hair. He smoothed back a few strands then let his hand reach behind her, carefully plucking at the bobby pins that held her bun in place.

  “Ja,” he murmured as he freed her hair and brushed it with his fingers. He let his fingers brush against her neck and rest upon her shoulder. “Too much time has been wasted, indeed.”

  And on that night, after all that they had gone through, with all the gentleness and tenderness that these experiences had triggered in him, he finally made her his true wife.

  It was in the morning when Mary Ruth stood by the bedroom window once again. Unlike the night before, there were no shadows on the fields. The sun was beginning to crest over the horizon and the sky changed from dark to light. She felt Menno’s hand on her waist and she turned her head, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. He leaned against her, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her tight, her white nightgown pressed against his bare chest. She shut her eyes and leaned
backward, his chin resting on his shoulder.

  “Gut mariye, fraa,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Gut mariye, husband,” she whispered back.

  “It’s right gut to have you home,” he said, nuzzling at her neck.

  Home, she thought, turning her gaze back out the window as she stared across the field. Yes, home indeed. “Wherever you are,” she responded. “That is where my home shall be.”

  Chapter 6: Lizzie’s Letter

  Dear Family,

  We all enjoyed reading everyone’s letters and learning that Mary Ruth had finally returned to her new home after that dreadful fire. We thank Him for having spared her precious life and bestowed His blessings upon our family. Our thoughts and prayers are with her and all of you.

  With winter now upon us, the days have become shorter and we all seem to be moving at a slower pace. Had a lovely visit from sister Sylvia last week and we were happy to hear that John’s market business is doing quite well. Our Katie will be helping them out come springtime.

  Attended a quilting bee at the Petersheim’s just this past weekend. Such beautiful colors Mary picked out…browns and blues. It’s so nice to see the quilting pick up again. I worry about these young women who want store-bought comforters rather than the quilts. It seems that nowadays people prefer convenience over quality, I reckon.

  Will be visiting Abraham’s family this upcoming Sunday for service and fellowship. Haven’t seen them in a while and we sure do look forward to catching up with them. His daed has been fighting the flu already. I sure hope that is not a sign of the winter ahead…sickness. None of us are getting younger, that’s for sure and certain.

  You are all in our prayers, my dear family, and we look forward to celebrating the upcoming Christmas season with each of you at our family dinner gathering.