Authors: Kelly Irvin
“I know, but she says it’s bad. It could be real bad.”
“It makes sense.” Emma brushed a thread from the shirt with an absent look on her
face. “Now that I think about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know Luke and Leah moved back into the house after our parents died. I lived
with Leah before I married Thomas.”
“I remember.”
“She was pregnant with the twins. She didn’t seem…she wasn’t…”
“Happy about it?”
“She was hard to get along with, but I thought she always had been difficult. She
was always so stern, even as a girl at school.”
“She practically raised us when my mudder got sick.”
“She and Luke have been married about ten years. She’s been pregnant or had a baby
on her hip that entire time.” Emma’s smile was forlorn. Probably thinking of the baby
she’d lost. Emma had waited a long time for babies. Like Bethel waited now. “Her grumpiness
could be from the postpartum problems.”
“We didn’t know.”
“We blamed it on her being an unpleasant person.”
Guilt assailed Bethel. She had convicted her sister of something over which she had
no control. “There’s medication for it.”
Emma sighed and shook her head. “For Englisch folks, maybe. I can’t imagine Luke being
willing to let Leah talk to a doctor about that sort of thing even if you could get
her to do it, which seems pretty farfetched.”
“Wouldn’t Luke want her to get better?”
“When my parents died, my sister Catherine—you remember her, the one who left the
community—she suffered from what the doctor called post-traumatic stress. She was
depressed. Luke thought…mind over matter. She should simply be able to get over it
because it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t.”
“That’s why she left?”
“One of the reasons, jah.”
“Maybe he’d feel differently if he knew how bad this is. Doctor Karen says she shouldn’t
be left alone with the babies.”
“Not to leave who alone with the babies?” Leah opened the screen door and peered out.
“Are you talking about me?”
She looked from Bethel to Emma and back. “I can’t believe you told her.”
She let the screen door slam, then whirled and disappeared into the house.
Bethel dropped Joseph’s pants into the basket and stood. Emma gave her an encouraging
look and did the same. “Talk to her. If she’s willing to get help, she can convince
Luke that it’s what she needs. I’d better go find Thomas. It’s getting late and I
want to kiss the babies goodnight before they go to sleep.”
“It was nice talking to you.” Bethel gave her a small wave. “Talk to you soon.”
Emma picked up the basket and held the screen door for Bethel. She set the basket
inside. “Remember, patience and kindness.”
Patience and kindness.
Bethel found Leah in the kitchen, slamming pots into the tub of dishwater so hard
the water sloshed over the sides and ran in rivulets to the floor.
“Leah, I didn’t mean—”
“You told her about the baby.” She took a deep shuddering breath. Bethel had seen
Leah upset before, but never like this. “It’s private. You had no right.”
“I’m only trying to understand, and Emma knows so much about these things.” Bethel
picked up a towel and began to sop up the water. She sought the words. Kind words.
“She can help. She wants to help.”
“Why? Because she’s had two babies? She knows how I feel and what I need? She has
Rebecca and Eli and the twins to help her.”
“Because she’s kind and wise and she spent time with her Aenti Louise.”
“It’s private and you know it.”
“I’m sorry. I only wanted to help.”
“You want to help—do these dishes. You want to help—mop the floors. You want to help—hang
the laundry on the line. Don’t gossip.”
“I would never gossip.”
“You think I might hurt my own children.”
“Nee, nee!”
“Then stop talking about me and start helping.”
“Convince Luke to let me go back to physical therapy and I’ll get better faster. I
promise.”
“Luke will do what Luke will do.”
“He knows about the baby.”
“Jah.”
“He’s happy?”
“With the baby, jah. With me, no.”
“Leah, I talked to my doctor and she says she can help you.”
“You told your doctor about me?”
“Because I thought she could help. She says you have postpartum—”
“You tell Luke. You tell Emma. You tell a complete stranger. What kind of sister are
you?”
Her face contorted with angry tears, Leah stormed from the room, a pot in her wet
hands, completely forgotten.
Bethel stood in the middle of the room. Her behavior at the clinic upset Luke. Her
contact with Shawn upset Elijah. Her discussion with Doctor Jasmine about Leah’s strange
symptoms upset her sister. Most likely, her failure to drink a pop with Shawn upset
him. It seemed she’d managed to upset everyone. She’d let them all down. Worst of
all, she’d let God down.
She sank to her knees and lowered her head.
Gott, forgive me
.
L
uke leaned forward in a chair and propped his elbows on his knees. His eyes burned
with exhaustion. It seemed as if it had been years since he managed a good night’s
sleep. Between Leah’s tossing and turning and his own tortured thoughts, he spent
most of the night staring into the darkness at a ceiling he couldn’t see. He cleared
his throat and let his gaze rove over Thomas, Silas, and Elijah. Elijah, as the person
who’d made the complaint, had been invited to the meeting where a decision had to
be made about Bethel’s behavior at the rehab clinic. The man crossed his arms over
his chest, his lips a thin line in his stern face. He’d made it clear he didn’t want
to be here, but he knew his responsibility.
“Let’s start with you, Thomas. What did you find out?”
“A couple of things.” Thomas smoothed his beard. “First, nothing untoward happened
between Bethel and this man Shawn McCormack.”
“But she did allow him to be at the physical therapy session.”
“In the same room, jah, but the therapist was outside in the hallway. She told him
to face the wall and not look at her.”
“So she knew it wasn’t proper.”
“She knew, yet she didn’t insist he leave.”
“You sister-in-law is a kind person. She has a soft heart.” Thomas nodded at Elijah.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Elijah?”
His jaw worked. He stared at his hands. “I would.”
“I think that’s all this is. Bethel was a teacher because of her nurturing nature.
She likes to help. This man has many challenges. She wants to help.”
“She sure doesn’t let anyone else help her.” Elijah clamped his mouth shut. He inhaled
noisily. “I mean, it depends on why she’s helping him.”
Thomas favored Elijah with a look that could only be described as fatherly. “For a
man who spent five years helping his parents, you sure seem to object to Bethel helping
out a stranger.”
“He is a stranger, an Englisch stranger.”
“The Good Samaritan helped a stranger on the side of the road,” Thomas said. “Who
are we to judge when our friend Bethel extends kindness to a man we don’t know?”
“As long as that’s all it is.” Luke teetered in the middle, trying to balance the
two points of view. This was his first disciplinary issue as bishop. He wanted to
make the right decision, but Bethel was his sister-in-law. Leah needed her sister
to regain the use of her legs. Bethel needed the full use of her legs even more so
she could have a full life as the wife of a Plain man who would have certain expectations
of his fraa. “There’s the invitation to share food and drink. The man seemed to think
she would take him up on it.”
“Candy and soda.” Thomas chuckled. “Not exactly romantic fare.”
“What do you know about romance?” Silas snorted. “As much as I do, I’m thinking.”
Both men chuckled.
“This isn’t funny,” Elijah glowered. “Your first decision in this community and you’re
making light of it.”
“You need to get some perspective.” Thomas’s smile disappeared. “It is serious, I’ll
agree, but Bethel is a strong believer. She is a good person who’s never intentionally
parted ways from the Ordnung, not even during her rumpspringa.”
“Her life has changed since the storm.” Elijah’s hands tightened into a fist. A second
later he spread his fingers out over his knees. “She thinks this man understands her
and the rest of us don’t. She’s drawn to him because of that.”
Luke understood Elijah’s concern, but he also saw Thomas’s point of view. They had
to find a careful balance. Being rigid with rules as they tried to find their way
in this new place would lead to an obsession with legalism and watching to make sure
everyone else did the same. He wanted to lead these people to live in the spirit behind
the rules. “She told you that?”
“Not in so many words. She said he understood what it was like not to have use of
your legs. She feels a kinship with him. To be fair, with all the people in the group.”
“Which I imagine is the point of the group.”
“Jah.”
“We need her to get better.” Luke let his gaze drop. They couldn’t know how much he
needed for her to get better. “I want her to start helping Deborah at the school.
My thought is Bethel should spend her mornings at the school three days a week. She
will go to therapy once a week. Less time for trouble. She needs to be home on laundry
day—Leah needs her.”
His personal problems could not be the basis for any decision. The greater good of
the community was more important. Leah knew that. She would deal with it.
“Is that going to be enough for Leah?” Thomas’s gaze knew too much.
“She’ll cope.”
“I’ll send Rebecca over to help.”
“No need.”
Thomas shook his head. “Don’t let pride get in your way.”
“We’re getting far afield.”
“Back to Bethel. Her spiritual well-being is at stake here.” Elijah rubbed his clean-shaven
face with both hands. “I know how much the physical therapy means to her, but…”
“You’d take it away from her? Her chance to get better?”
“To save her from herself? To keep her from stumbling in her faith?” Elijah’s hands
dropped and he looked Luke in the eye. “Wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not sure you’re being selfless in this.”
Elijah’s face darkened and his fists clenched again. When he saw Luke’s gaze on them
he loosened them. “What are you saying?”
“If you have an interest, get a move on.”
“That’s your direction as bishop?”
“Nee, as a friend.”
Elijah’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve heard my thoughts on this issue. May I be excused?”
“Jah.” Luke watched the man trudge to the door ahead of Thomas. He looked as if he
had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Elijah.”
The man stopped, his hand on the screen door.
“Come for supper. You too, Thomas.”
“Emma is waiting pulled pork sandwiches for me.” Thomas brushed past Elijah, who backed
off a pace, letting him through. “And macaroni and cheese casserole and a strawberry-rhubarb
pie.”
“Then you best hurry.”
Elijah studied his boots until Thomas let the screen door slam behind him. “She won’t
be happy with me.”
“She’ll know you cared enough to be concerned for her.”
He frowned and studied his boots some more. “I’ll feed the pigs.”
And stay for supper. That was good. “I’ll take care of the horses. I want to check
on Cinnamon. I think she might be expecting.”
“It’s a little early.”
“I know. It’s concerning.”
Together they walked out of the house and went their separate ways. In these autumn-shortened
days, dusk came early and the cold wind was enough to hurt his throat. The hint of
dampness in the air made him look at the sky. Thick, dark clouds. He wouldn’t be surprised
if they got their first snow overnight. In the barn, William and Joseph wielded pitchforks
and spread hay in the horses’ stalls. They’d mucked all six already. They had their
technique down. “How’s Cinnamon tonight?”
“Off her feed,” Joseph said, sounding like an eight-year-old horse expert. “She acts
like she’s too tired to eat.”
“She’ll eat when she gets hungry. In the meantime, don’t forget the chickens.”
“I’ll do the chickens.” William’s tone was eager. “I’m gonna take a hoe. I saw a snake
outside the shed, but it slithered off before I had a chance to get it.”
“Careful you don’t hit your toes.”
Silas’s boy Elam had done just such a thing last year. William hooted with all the
confidence of a veteran snake wrangler. “We know the difference between our toes and
a snake!”
Raucous laughter seeped into the barn. William stopped talking and the three of them
stood still, listening. Loud shushing sounds mingled with giggling. Luke held his
finger to his lips and mouthed the words,
Get Elijah
. The boys nodded and scurried away. Luke slipped through the barn door and moved
quietly along one wall. The dry, dead grass and weeds crunched under his boots. Whoever
had decided to gather behind his barn didn’t seem to notice. The volume of their whoops
and hollers increased despite the exhortations of at least one person to hush.