Authors: Kelly Irvin
“Shawn’s not—”
“Believe me, I recognize it when I see it.”
With that outrageous statement, Elijah hoisted himself into the buggy and took off.
“What are you getting so mad about?” Bethel grabbed the arm-rest to keep from smacking
against it as Elijah urged the horse into an abrupt trot. “How was Webster County?”
“What?” Elijah’s face was set in fierce, angry lines. “What are you talking about?”
“Your trips to Webster County. Did you see what you wanted to see?”
The second the words passed her lips Bethel regretted them. She had no business sticking
her nose in Elijah’s affairs.
“Webster County was fine.”
“Webster County was fine or Viola was fine?” She clapped her hands to her mouth and
swiveled her head so she looked at the passing stores. How could she be so forward?
She had no right. “I’m sorry. Ignore me. I’ve had…it’s been a bad morning.”
The pulse jumped in Elijah’s jaw. He gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead.
The silence stretched, filled only with the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and the
racket of cars that swerved to go around them. The longer it stretched, the more time
Bethel had to study her regrets. They went on and on. This was why she would never
marry, never have children. She was too pigheaded.
They were almost to the farm before Elijah spoke. He didn’t smile and his gruff tone
told her he was still angry. “If I shone a flashlight in your window, what would you
do?”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Her pulse pounded in her ears and
her mouth was so dry she didn’t know if she could form the words. “I don’t know.”
“You’d best figure it out and soon.”
“I will.” The words came out in an embarrassing croak. “I promise.”
He snapped the reins and urged the horse forward. “I still have to tell Luke.”
“I know.”
Would it be her brother-in-law she faced or her bishop? She preferred the bishop.
He would be wise and fair. The brother-in-law would be angry first, then wise and
fair.
But at the moment, she was far more worried about the flashlight.
E
lijah had never felt more silly in his life. Why say something stupid like that to
Bethel? Why not just show up one night and take her for a ride? He hadn’t meant to
bring it up. He’d been fighting the idea since the first time he’d lifted her from
the van that brought her to Missouri. Then Shawn McCormack’s invitation in the form
of pop and candy had been a wake-up call. Speak up now or forever hold your peace.
He snapped the reins, hoping the new horse would show a little more giddy-up and go.
No such luck. This horse was no Ned. “Come on, giddy-up!”
“Don’t take it out on the horse.” Bethel’s first words since the question. Accusatory
and not a little snippy. “It’s not his fault.”
“I would never…” He started to argue, then drew a breath. She wanted to draw him into
a debate. He wouldn’t fall for that. “He’s a nice horse. Silas made a good…Who is
that? Is that William? William and Joseph?”
Bethel sat forward and raised her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the
sun. “It is. What are they doing? And why aren’t they in school?”
Joseph sat on the grassy bank of the ditch that ran alongside the road. His brother
William knelt next to him. With their dark pants, blue shirts, and matching brown
heads they could have been twins, little miniatures of Luke. They seemed to be examining
Joseph’s arm. William’s hat lay at his feet and brilliant red stains covered the front
of both boy’s shirts.
“Is that…” Bethel’s horrified voice trailed away. Her face blanched. “Elijah.”
“I know.” He pulled hard on the reins. “Whoa, whoa!”
Bethel tried to climb from the buggy before it came to a complete stop. Elijah slapped
his arm out in front of her. “Not yet.”
She drew back and grasped the buggy arm. He tightened the reins some more and the
buggy jerked to a halt, dust billowing around them as they hit the shoulder of the
road. “Now you can get down. Or you could wait for me to help you.”
To Elijah’s surprise, she managed to lower herself to the ground without falling.
The sessions were helping. He hated to think what would happen when Luke found out
about the latest encounter with the Englisch man. She might not be able to return.
Would that be his fault for not handling it better? So be it. Her spiritual life was
more important than her physical well-being. She might not see it that way at first,
but she would forgive him. He hoped. He thrust the problem aside the better to deal
with the one right in front of him.
Bethel sank to the ground in front of the two boys. “Are you all right? What happened?
Why aren’t you in school?” She touched her fingers to the sticky, wet mass on the
front of Joseph’s shirt. “Is this blood? Are you hurt? Joseph, are you hurt?”
“Nee. It’s tomato.” Joseph raised a tearstained face to his aunt. He looked so like
his daed, but he had Leah’s dark eyes. Right now they were red. He took a deep shuddering
breath. “Teacher sent us home early. She said she didn’t feel good. She was sad.”
“Someone wrote nasty things on the outside of the school,” William added when his
brother ran down. “With orange paint.”
Again with the orange paint. Elijah squatted and laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“How did you get the tomatoes on you?”
“We were walking home and some boys in a car came by.” William sniffed, but he didn’t
cry. He was a big boy. “They threw the tomatoes at us. I think they were rotten. They
stink.”
They did indeed, but that was the least of their problems. “Why are you sitting here
by the side of the road letting them dry on your shirt?”
“They kept creeping alongside us, calling to us.” Joseph ducked his head. “They offered
to give us a ride, but we said no, and we started running.”
“And then Joseph fell down.”
“And then they laughed and drove off.”
“They said stuff like
weirdos
and
bowl heads
and said we should go home.”
“That’s what we were trying to do.” Joseph’s freckled face looked perplexed. “But
I fell down and I think my arm is broken.”
“Let me see.” Bethel took his arm in both hands and pressed her fingers up and down
it. She had a gentle touch, no doubt about it. Her fingers mesmerized Elijah. He jerked
his gaze away, focusing on Joseph’s face. The boy flinched when she touched his wrist.
“I think it’s probably only a sprain.” She smiled at Joseph. “We’ll wrap it when we
get home. But first I think we should go see Deborah and make sure she’s all right,
don’t you?”
Both boys nodded. Then the three of them turned their pleading gazes on Elijah. He
bit his lip, looking at the boys’ dirty, smelly clothes and wan faces. They were tough
little guys. So was their aunt. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of the school. Deborah sat on the porch
step, a bucket of soapy water at her side, her head in her hands. She looked up when
the boys called her name. “We’re back, we came back to help you.”
She burst into tears.
Bethel managed to slide from the buggy on her own again. Every time she did it, it
surprised her. Joseph climbed down like a monkey and pulled out her crutches for her.
She propelled herself forward, right behind Elijah even though he had a much longer
stride. He covered the ground to the schoolhouse steps in what seemed like leaps and
bounds.
“Deborah, what happened?” A sick knot formed in the pit of Bethel’s stomach. Would
these boys, these men, whatever they were, pick on a young woman alone with a group
of children? Would they wait until the children were gone and then harass her? “Did
they come here? Did they hurt you?”
“They came and went. They threw stuff at the building and then took off, laughing.
Who thinks such a thing is funny?” Deborah made an obvious effort to swallow a sob.
“I’m no good as a teacher. You have to come back, Bethel, you have to!”
“Why didn’t you send for help?” Doing her best to ignore Elijah hovering over them,
Bethel lowered herself to the step so she could put her arm around Deborah. “Why didn’t
you have your scholars help you clean up this mess?”
“It’s my fault. I didn’t even try to make them stop. I didn’t do anything. I froze.”
Deborah swiveled to look at the offending paint on the wall. “It doesn’t come off,
anyway, so it doesn’t matter whether the children stayed.”
“We’ll paint over it.” Elijah surveyed the mess. His disgusted expression didn’t match
the firm tone. Bethel could read it all in his face. All the time they spent cleaning
up these messes was time the men didn’t spend planting winter wheat and getting fields
ready for spring crops. “Did you get a good look at them the second time?”
“I peeked out the window. All I saw was a gray pickup truck and some Englischers who
look like they were seventeen or eighteen, too old to be doing stuff like this. Why
weren’t they working?”
Bethel didn’t bother to remind her that Englischers went to school until they were
eighteen, longer if they went to college. She patted Deborah’s back. “It’s not your
fault. Poor upbringing, I imagine.”
Deborah cupped her hand over her forehead and peered at the boys. “What is that smell
and what is that on your shirts?”
“Tomatoes.” Joseph sounded gleeful now that he wasn’t alone on the side of the road
anymore. “And I fell and broke my arm.”
“Joseph, you did not.” Bethel shook her finger at him. “It’s not acceptable to tell
tall tales. You sprained your wrist and that’s nothing to brag about. It just means
you tripped over your own feet.”
“Someone attacked you on the road?” Deborah looked as if she might lose her breakfast.
“It’s all my fault. I should’ve sent the older boys for help to let the parents know
they should pick up the children.”
“They can’t pick them up every day,” Bethel pointed out. “They need to walk home in
groups, though. Safety in numbers.”
“We never had problems like this in Bliss Creek.” Deborah plucked at her apron, damp
with her tears. “Of course, I wasn’t the teacher in Bliss Creek. I don’t think I’m
cut out for this much responsibility.”
“Sure you are.” Bethel squeezed her shoulders again and then let her arm drop. “I
didn’t have these kinds of problems. People around here are still getting used to
us.”
“They broke two windows throwing rocks at the building.” Deborah’s tone was mournful.
“And they left a dead skunk by the swing set. It stinks.”
“They’re just windows.” Elijah hopped on the porch without using the steps. He grabbed
the broom and started sweeping. “We’ll replace them, good as new. We’ll bury the skunk
and air out the school. No harm done. I’ll take the boys and go get Luke and the others.
We’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”
“We’ll stay here and clean up inside.” Bethel stood and faced him. Time to lay their
differences aside. They would forgive these hooligans and use the experience to strengthen
the bonds of their new community. “Let Leah know for me.”
Elijah nodded. His eyebrows wrinkled and he frowned. “Maybe you can help Deborah out
with the classes, now that you’re getting a little stronger. It might be better to
have two adults here what with all this activity.”
The thought bowled her over. Would Luke allow it? Would Leah? Bethel couldn’t help
herself. She smiled at him. “That’s a very smart idea…but will Luke allow it?”
He smiled back. “When he hears all the facts, I think he will. He’s a fair man.”
Being a teacher’s aide wasn’t the same as being the teacher, but it was a step in
the right direction. And it would take her mind off the therapy sessions.
And Shawn.
If Elijah had his way, she might not get to go to another session. She might not see
Shawn again. The first bothered her more than the second. She was almost sure of that.
Almost.
B
ethel fought the urge to squirm in her chair. His sun-lined face grave, Thomas eased
onto the sofa next to Emma. They had not come to the house for a social visit—of that
Bethel was certain. The fact that Luke had stomped out the door to the barn as soon
as supper ended and Leah had taken the children upstairs for a story and early bed
told her as much. She surreptitiously wiped the palms of her hands on her apron, leaving
damp spots. “Can I get you some cold tea? Leah made lemon meringue pie for dessert.
I can rustle some up if you like.”