Authors: Beth Wiseman
She’d replaced writing in her diary with prayer, and instead of regret about her choices in the past, her parents’ choices, and the life she’d led—now she was working on not carrying the burdens of the past, hers or her parents. Causing the barn fire could have been a setback and destroyed all that she’d been working toward— feelings and recognition that she hoped to take from here when she had to leave. But after talking with Rebecca, she found their forgiveness amazing. She wondered briefly how either of her parents would have reacted to such an accident. She recalled the time she accidentally broke her mother’s favorite crystal vase. Not quite tall enough to smell the flowers at nine years old, she tipped the vase toward her and spilled the water. She knocked it off the table when she was wiping up the water. First there was yelling, then she was sent to her room for the afternoon.
But it was an accident
.
Lost in thought, she didn’t see Jesse walk up beside her. “Got an extra one of those?”
Sweat ran the length of Jesse’s face as he eyed the two glasses of iced tea Shelby was holding. “Sure.” She eased one in his direction.
Jesse gulped the cold drink for several seconds, and Shelby started to walk away but stopped when she heard her name. She slowly turned around.
Jesse had one hand on his hip as his eyes narrowed. “Did I do something to upset you, Shelby?”
She avoided his intense green eyes as she nervously moistened her dry lips, then finally looked up at him, realizing how much she’d missed him. “No. Everything’s fine.”
He tipped back his straw hat and scratched his forehead for a few moments. “It sure don’t seem fine. We were having lunch, talking. . . then you just didn’t want to spend any more time with me.” He paused, his lips pressed together for a moment. “I figure I must have done something.”
She shook her head. “No, Jesse. You didn’t do anything. It’s just—I’ll be leaving soon, and I just. . .” She bit her bottom lip, unsure how much to say.
Jesse eased closer to her, folding his arms across his chest. “Didn’t want to break my heart?”
Shelby’s eyes grew big as saucers, and she was sure her face was four shades of red. “What?”
“I like you, Shelby.” His tight expression relaxed into a smile. “And I’m pretty sure you like me too.”
She smiled tentatively, but her heart was racing. “Is that so?”
“
Ya
. And I figure you didn’t want us to get too close, since you’re leaving and all.”
Just the thought of leaving caused her smile to fade. To agree with him would make it that much harder in two weeks. “I’ve just been busy, Jesse.” She glanced around at everyone working, then hung her head. “And I feel terrible about what happened.”
Jesse leaned down until Shelby was forced to lock eyes with him, eyes filled with tenderness. “Do you know how many barn fires we have each year from lanterns or propane heaters?” He waved his arm around the yard. “And you see how we handle it, no? And by the end of the day next Saturday, your cousins will have a brand-new barn.” He chuckled, then whispered, “Theirs was old anyway.”
She stifled a smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
“So how about going for a ride with me Tuesday after work? I get off early that day.” He winked at her. “We could go fishing at the Zook place.”
Shelby took a deep breath, then lifted her chin a bit. “I can’t, Jesse. I’m sorry.” She handed him the full glass of tea she was holding and took his empty glass. “I have to go.”
She didn’t turn around as she headed back to the house. But she couldn’t help but wonder if she was making a mistake. As she walked up the porch steps, she wondered if they would keep in touch or write letters.
Saul watched his father across the yard saying good-bye to Rebecca and Aaron. He heard Miriam’s parents both thank
Daed
as they smiled. Saul cringed at the sight. From this moment forward, he would be watching out of the window, waiting for Bishop Ebersol to show up, and he would be praying it was on one of
Daed’s
good nights. He had Rebecca Raber to thank for that.
He picked up his tool belt from where he’d left it earlier, then strapped it around his waist. He glanced up at his father a couple of times. The best man he’d ever known. And no matter his shortcomings, his father didn’t deserve to be shamed by the community, as would surely happen when word of his drinking got out.
Saul had never seen his father drink a drop of alcohol until a few days after his mother and Hannah were buried. It seemed harmless enough at the time. Lots of folks in the district partook of wine, some even whiskey and beer. But for
Daed
, it slowly began to take him to a faraway place, somewhere free from the pain of
Mamm’s
and Hannah’s deaths. But it seemed like the more he drank, the more he began to change—into someone Saul didn’t recognize anymore. But no matter what, Saul knew the man his father really was, the man buried beneath grief so thick he couldn’t dig his way through it.
He headed toward his buggy as moments of his childhood flashed before his face. He recalled the time he’d begged his father for a sled one Christmas following a bad harvest. Money was tight, and the sled was on display at a fancy store in town. Saul didn’t understand until he was much older why his father had taken on a job in the evenings. Saul and both his brothers each got brand-new fancy sleds that year, different than the kind they could have made themselves. These were faster and slicker, and Saul and his brothers had many a race down the hill behind the house that year.
More memories of his father breezed through his mind, and Saul fought not to question the Lord’s will, why his mother and Hannah were taken away from them all. How different their lives might have been. He watched his father walking toward him, a smile stretched across his face.
“
Gut
people, Rebecca and Aaron. I regret that we haven’t spent more time with them.” His father’s kind gray eyes brightened. “But I guess we will now that you and Miriam are getting married.” He put his hand on Saul’s shoulder. “She seems like a good choice for a
fraa
,
sohn
.”
Daed
pulled his arm back, then started unhitching the horse. “Your
bruders
said that they will get a ride home later.” He walked around to the passenger side of the buggy, Saul’s cue to drive. “Have you thought about the
haus
you will build on the property I’m deeding to you? Many bedrooms for many
kinner
, no?”
Saul stared at his father, blinked a few times, and forced the images of his father on the living room floor out of his mind.
How can this be the same man?
He managed a weak smile and nodded as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the buggy. His father took a seat beside him, and Saul eased away, realizing he hadn’t even said good-bye to Miriam. He knew she wasn’t to blame for her parents’ actions, but right now it seemed to be the Fishers against the Rabers. Rebecca Raber had seen fit to tell the bishop his family’s secrets, even though he’d promised to stay here with Miriam and get married in the district.
It would serve Rebecca right if Saul swept Miriam away from here.
But what about Ruben and James?
Saul wondered if he was placing blame on the right person. He glanced at his father, then took a deep breath.
M
IRIAM WALKED INTO THE KITCHEN ON
W
EDNESDAY
, surprised that Shelby was up before her and already helping
Mamm
. It was the second time this week.
“Shelby scrambled some special eggs this morning,”
Mamm
said, smiling. “They have onions, tomatoes, peppers, cheese, and. . .”
Mamm
rattled off some more ingredients, but Miriam wasn’t listening. She didn’t feel like smiling this morning, and with each day that passed since Saturday, her mood had grown worse. Saul hadn’t said good-bye after helping clean the fire debris, and she hadn’t talked to him since. She wasn’t sure who she blamed more—her mother for meddling, or Saul for letting her mother affect their relationship.
“I’m calling them
mei Englisch
special eggs.” Shelby glanced at Miriam’s mother, who chuckled.
“Even learning some
Dietsch
while you’re here.”
Mamm
placed a jar of rhubarb jam on the table.
“Mind if I call everyone to
kumme esse
?” Shelby said with a bright smile.
Mamm
laughed again. “I think those hungry boys are already on their way, but I’m impressed, Shelby.”
Miriam rolled her eyes as she pulled the orange juice from the refrigerator.
Must be nice that
Mamm
can be so cheerful.
She wanted to ask her mother what she’d talked to Bishop Ebersol about on Saturday, but most likely
Mamm
would say it was a private matter. Besides, her father and brothers were making their way into the kitchen.
Following prayer, they began to eat, and everyone loved Shelby’s eggs. Miriam had to admit they were good. She savored the taste as she thought about how much Shelby had become a part of the family. Shelby and her mother had been interacting a lot more, especially since the barn fire, which Miriam didn’t mind, especially right now, when Miriam had little to say to
Mamm
. Besides, it didn’t sound like Shelby had nearly as good a mother as Miriam and her brothers.
Miriam reached for a piece of bacon and pondered her thought. Yes, she was angry with her mother, but she also knew her mother was a good person. And she loved her very much. She glanced around the table at her family. John stuffed his mouth with a biscuit, his hair unintentionally spiked on top as if he’d slept in the same position all night. His bright blue eyes shone with innocence, and Miriam felt like crying all of a sudden.
He’s only eight years old. I’ll miss seeing him grow up if I leave with Saul. Maybe pushing for this move with Saul, to fulfill his dreams, is a mistake
.
What are
my
dreams?
Saul watched from the front yard as Miriam pulled into the driveway. He suspected she was angry with him for leaving Saturday without saying good-bye. He was angry at himself. Glancing at the sun, he figured it was nearing the supper hour, and he planned to make asparagus soup, a recipe of his mother’s that he’d added some spices to, giving it a zestier flavor. He couldn’t wait until he could cook for Miriam in their own home—even if it wouldn’t be in Pittsburgh. He sighed as he thought about the times he’d fantasized about cooking at one of the fancy
Englisch
restaurants.