by Beth Wiseman
Saul ate as much of the cheesy salmon casserole as he could. Neither his mother nor Lena ever made salmon, so it should have been a nice treat. It tasted wonderful, and he’d known for years that Rosemary was a good cook, but his arm was throbbing to the point that he felt a little light-headed. She’d been watching him during the meal, and he wondered if she thought he didn’t like the meal, even though he’d commented a couple of times about how good it tasted. By the time she put dessert on the table—a raisin crumb pie—Saul was sweating like it was over a hundred degrees. It was warm, but a nice breeze blew through the screens, and it wasn’t hot enough for him to be perspiring this much. He dabbed at his forehead with his napkin. Again. Then he ate some of the pie, but couldn’t finish it.
“Everything was really gut, Rosie.” He laid his napkin across his plate, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much was left. Wayne and Abner excused themselves and went into the living room, so Saul stood up, and sure enough, the room spun a little. He hoped Rosemary didn’t notice the color draining from his face as he headed toward the back door.
“Saul.”
He swallowed hard and turned around, lifting an eyebrow “Ya?”
She walked toward him and cupped his left arm in her hand. Saul flinched, then noticed that fluid was draining through his bandage. He hadn’t let Lena change the bandage in three days, for no other reason than it hurt. Saul thought of himself as pretty tough—until it came to blood or wounds. Then he was worse than a five-year-old.
“This looks terrible.” Rosemary gently cradled his arm in her hands. “Did you bump it or something while you were on the plow?” Saul looked down at the yellowish color oozing through his white gauze, and he silently prayed for God to not let him pass out. He eased his arm away from Rosemary. Under other circumstances, he would have basked in the tenderness of her touch, but his feet were failing him. He quickly sat down in a kitchen chair and forced a smile.
“It’s okay. Really.”
Rosemary shook her head. “It is not okay. Wait here.” She left the kitchen and passed through the living room toward her father’s room, but the door was shut. Either he and Abner were napping or Daed was reading Abner a story. Either way, she didn’t want to disturb them. She hurried upstairs to her bathroom and found her first-aid kit. With three brothers, she had doctored her fair share of wounds. When she returned to the kitchen, Saul’s face was pasty white.
“Are you going to faint?” She raised an eyebrow, and Saul grunted.
“Of course not.”
Rosemary wasn’t so sure as she sat down in a chair beside him and gently raised his arm to have a closer look. “Has your mamm or Lena been tending to this, changing the bandage?”
“Uh . . . ya.”
Rosemary frowned. “I think we need to take this bandage off and have a look.”
“It’s fine. Really. And I’ve got lots of work to do.”
“You won’t be getting any work done if you don’t take care of this. I’m going to change the bandage for you. Did the doctor in the emergency room give you any medications to take?”
“I’ve been taking antibiotics.”
Rosemary reached for a small pair of scissors in her first-aid kit. “I’m going to snip this tape, then change your bandage.”
Saul pulled his arm away. “Nee. No need. I’ll have Lena change the bandage when I get home.”
“ ‘Then go home now.” Rosemary put the scissors back in the box. “I can’t. I want to get the alfalfa in the ground today. I’ll take care of it this evening.”
Rosemary put her elbows on the table, rested her chin in her hands, and twisted slightly to face him. “Saul Petersheim, you are white as these walls, and you look like you’re about to pass out.”
He shook his head, grinning slightly. “Ach, nee. I don’t know why you think that.”
“Then let me change the bandage. I think you’re afraid.”
Saul grunted again. “I’m not afraid of anything.” He stood up. “Now, I’m going to get back to work.”
Rosemary watched him teetering, and she didn’t want Saul ending up in the hospital on her watch. “I’m going to get mei daed.” She stood up, folded her arms across her chest, and looked up at him. “You’re not well enough to be out on that plow. Maybe you can supervise Jesse and Josh when they get home from school, but you’re not going back out there.”
“I’m a grown man. I think I know when I’m well enough to work and when I’m not.”
“Then let me have a look at your arm.”
“Nee.” Saul turned toward the door, pulled the screen wide, and wobbled down the porch steps. Maybe he was running a fever. She followed him but stopped on the bottom step as he hurried across the yard.
“I’ll go out with you Saturday night if you come back here and let me have a look at your arm.” Rosemary brought a hand to her chest as she squeezed her eyes closed for a few moments. When she opened them, Saul was walking toward her. What was I thinking?
He stopped in front of her, smiled broadly, and held out his arm. “Here you go.”
Rosemary huffed, spun around, and went back into the kitchen. She could hear Saul following. “You know, I shouldn’t have to bribe you to get you to take care of yourself.”
“You change your mind already?”
She pulled out a chair and pointed at him. “Sit.” She sat next to him. This was all she needed . . . to have yet another person to take care of. She could be cleaning the kitchen floors right now. But this was Saul, and when she felt him trembling as she snipped the tape and unwound it from his arm, she said softly, “I’m going to be very gentle, okay? And if I do something that hurts, you just tell me.”
Saul nodded but turned his head the other way. She recalled the time Jesse had borrowed an Englisch boy’s skateboard and taken a bad fall. Rosemary wondered if Saul’s arm would look anything like that. Jesse had slid across the concrete on his left knee, and it had been a real mess for a while. But Jesse was only nine at the time and had been much braver than Saul was being now. And she hadn’t had to bribe Jesse to let her tend to him.
She glanced up at Saul, and it was impossible not to feel sorry for him. He was still white in the face, and his arm was shaky. Rosemary was a little afraid of what she might see. As she began to unwrap the dressing, Saul’s breathing sped up. This was surprising to her, that he was so fearful. In every way, he’d always appeared confident, as if he had no fear.
“Are you okay?”
“Ya. Sure.” He tried to smile but avoided looking at his arm, and Rosemary wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t keel over right there at the kitchen table. She took off the last of the bandages. Saul cringed.
“It’s not bad. It just needs to be cleaned up. I’ll put some topical antibiotic on it as well.” Rosemary spoke in a slow, calm voice, even though she was shocked by what she saw. He was missing several layers of skin, and the last thing he needed to be doing was plowing or putting in a garden. The wound was clearly infected.
Rosemary doctored him up and put on a new bandage. If he was this much of a baby, she figured he probably hadn’t let Lena change the bandage in days.
“All done.” She gave him back his arm. “You really need to change this bandage every day.” She stood up, and he did too. “No more working here, though, until your arm is healed. You don’t want to get dirt in that wound. We’ve gone without a garden for this long—we will be just fine. And Katherine will keep us stocked with veggies.”
“I think I can finish planting the alfalfa today, then I can start on the garden tomorrow.” He glanced down at his arm, then up at Rosemary, smiling. “Your touch is as tender as I remember.”
Rose
mary swallowed hard and looked down. By going out with him on Saturday night, she was going to send him the wrong signal.
When she didn’t respond, his smile faded. “I’ll probably just bring our tiller from home. We’ve got a really gut one.”
Rosemary nodded and Saul walked outside. Obviously he wasn’t going to heed her warning to take it easy the rest of the day. She stood on the porch step and watched him walk across the front yard until he disappeared behind the barn. All the while, visions of them together on Saturday night swirled in her head.
What have I done?
Chapter Five
SAUL SHOWED UP THE FOLLOWING MORNING WITH THE tiller on a small trailer he’d hitched to the back of his buggy. Finishing the alfalfa proved to be a large task. He was glad that Jesse and Josh had shown up after school. Even though Saul had already completed the planting, the boys took the draft mules to the barn, brushed them down, and got them stowed for the evening. Everything was going well at the job site, and the crew was staying busy, so he didn’t want to pull anyone away to help him with the garden. His arm wasn’t as sore, but he was embarrassed about his behavior in front of Rosemary. What kind of man would accept a date as a bribe? He planned to let Rosemary off the hook today.
It was midmorning when Rosemary walked out to the garden area. Saul had cleared most of the weeds with the tiller, but he was pulling the ones against the fence with his hands. When she got closer, he saw that she was wearing working gloves.
“I told you that you cannot get that wound dirty.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m going to help you with the garden, even though this whole project is nonsense. Why grow vegetables when you can buy them in town?”
Saul used his good arm to swipe his forehead before beads of sweat trickled down his face. “There’s nothing better than using the land that the Lord gave us to grow food to nourish our bodies.” He walked closer to where she was standing on the other side of the white picket fence. A fence that needed a fresh coat of paint. “It’s a gut feeling to watch the fruits of our labor become whole.” He smiled as he eyed his progress so far.
Rosemary shrugged and sighed deeply. “Ach, well. I’m never going to share your passion for gardening, but I’m going to help you so it will get done faster. And I’ll do the dirty work, like planting the bushes, so you don’t get dirt in your wound.”
Saul laughed. “Bushes? We’re not planting bushes. We’re going to plant seeds.”
Rosemary tapped a finger to her chin for a few moments. “Katherine is already getting lots of produce from her garden. Are you sure we have time to start from seed?”
“There’s still about two weeks of planting season left, really right up until the end of May. And it won’t take as long as you think before you have your own red, ripe tomatoes and cucumbers and . . . anything else you might want.” He paused and glanced around. “I want to get the rest of the weeds cleared first, the ones up against the fence.” He looked back at her and shook his head. “But I don’t need you to help me.”
Rosemary opened the gate that led to the other side of the picket fence where Saul was standing. Her father was at the kitchen table with bills and receipts scattered all around. Paperwork he said he’d let fall behind. He’d encouraged Rosemary to go outside and help Saul since both Jesse and Josh had stayed after school for a class project.
“I’m going to help you anyway.” She wiggled her fingers inside the gloves that had belonged to her mother, then squatted down and started pulling the tall weeds by the roots. As she tossed the first handful over the fence, she couldn’t help but recall how pretty this place had been at one time. But that fond memory clouded quickly as she focused on her mother and how much she missed her.
Rosemary looked up. Saul was just standing there watching her. “I said I’m going to help, but you’ve got one gut arm to help, no?” Grinning, she tossed another handful of weeds over the fence.
Saul narrowed his eyebrows and shifted his weight, still staring at her. “You don’t have to go out with me Saturday night.”
Rosemary avoided his gaze and tugged at another group of weeds. “I know I don’t have to.” She should have just said okay and left it at that, but she was wondering why he was giving her an out. “You’ve been asking me for years.” She shrugged, not looking up as she latched onto another cluster.
He squatted down beside her, and with his good arm, he yanked about four times the amount of weeds as she had, then tossed them over the fence. “And there’s nothing I want more than to go out with you. But I want you to want to. Not because of a bribe or anything.”
Rosemary’s heart was beating faster than normal. “I do want to.” She couldn’t look at Saul, afraid she’d get lost in his eyes. Their date was all she’d thought about for the past few days. Memories of the summer she’d turned sixteen were fresh in her mind, but she was resolved not to get too close to him. But if he wanted to kiss her at the end of the night, Rosemary was going to let him. Then walk away. Like she’d done before.
“Why did you do it?” Saul sat down in the dirt, and when Rosemary looked at him, he said, “Why did you break up with me when we were kids? It was a long time ago, so can you tell me now? Because I’ve always wondered. I thought we were so happy, and . . .” He shrugged, and as Rosemary had feared, she was lost in the depth of his big blue eyes.
“I-I just . . . it just wasn’t working out.” She reached for another patch of overgrowth, but Saul put his hand on top of hers.
“Did I do something?”
“Nee.” She took her hand back. She couldn’t tell him about the conversation she’d overheard that night. He would think she was as selfish and shallow as she felt. But it would most likely stop him from pursuing her. Maybe after their date she’d tell him. She wanted—needed—just one kiss. She felt like she was sixteen years old again with every emotion she’d had back then rising to the surface. Her eyes welled with tears.
“Rosie, don’t cry.”
When she bit her lip and didn’t speak, Saul racked his brain, thinking back five years. He could picture them kissing beneath the big oak tree behind the Millers’ house that day. Everything had been perfect. But not long after the meal, she’d found him, and they’d gone behind the house again. Saul had thought she wanted to sneak in a few more kisses. Instead, she’d broken up with him, giving him a lame excuse about not wanting to settle down with one person yet. But she’d cried through the entire conversation, and Saul never bought into it.
He’d tried to get over her by asking other girls out, hoping that one of them would measure up to his Rosemary. But every time Saul could feel himself getting close to someone, it was Rosemary’s face he saw, and he always pulled back. She’d held his heart back then. And she still did. He lifted his shoulders and dropped them slowly. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I never would have done anything intentionally to make you unhappy. So I guess you’re just going to have to tell me.”
Rosemary’s heart ached, but there was no way she could tell him what fueled her decision to break up back then. She was still holding on to the same reasoning now, although as she gazed into Saul’s eyes, she knew that being around him Saturday night was only going to make things harder. As much as she longed for his touch, even one kiss, she needed to take this opportunity to back out.
“You didn’t do anything back then, Saul.” She sat down and folded her legs beneath her, plotting how to avoid a lie but still not tell the truth. She shrugged, her eyes locked with his. “I just changed my mind.”
“You changed your mind?” His voice was curt. Not that she blamed him. “You just changed your mind about wanting to date me? Did your feelings just . . . change? I mean . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
Rosemary opened her mouth
in an effort to say something that would make sense to him but still stay short of the truth. She bit her tongue, knowing that she needed to talk to Esther. She’d been keeping this secret to herself for a long time, and while Esther might think she was wrong in her decision, it seemed safer to run the truth by her friend before she fessed up to Saul. She lifted herself up, pulled off her gloves, and brushed the dirt from her apron.
Her heart was heavy, but she forced the words out of her mouth. “I guess we really shouldn’t go out Saturday night.”
Saul stood up and just stared at her for a few moments before he leaned down and picked up his gardening spade, shovel, and a pair of work gloves lying in the weeds. Then he turned and walked out of the gate, even though it was still early in the day. Rosemary left the garden area and slowly inched her way toward him. Surely he wasn’t leaving.
“I’m not feeling well.” He tossed the items in the small trailer he had hitched to the buggy. “Tell your daed that I will be back tomorrow.”
“Saul?” Rosemary walked up to him and touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He eased away from her and readied his horse. Then he opened the door of the buggy, but before he got in, he looked at her, an expression on his face that Rosemary couldn’t read.
“You don’t have to worry about me asking you out anymore.” He hung his head for a few moments, then looked back up at her. “It’s always been you, Rosie. The only woman I’ve ever wanted to be with. But a man can only take so much.” He paused, shaking his head again. “I don’t know why we broke up when we were teenagers, and it’s already starting again. A few minutes ago, you said you did want to go out with me, and you’ve already changed your mind. I want to be with someone who is sure that they want to be with me. I was hoping we’d have a chance to spend time together, but you’re right. It’s not a gut idea.”