A Hand to Hold (2 page)

He braced himself, waiting for her to pass out, or at the very least get hysterical. To his relief and surprise, she did neither. Instead she calmly said, “I’m okay.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Just a little bit.” She took the cloth from him and looked at the round, red stain on the fabric. “See. Not that much.” She started to stand, but when she got to her knees, she began to sway.

He put his arm around her slim shoulders to steady her. “You need to see a doctor.”

“
Nee
. I’ll be all right in a minute.” She gazed at him, her brows sliding into a V shape. “Don’t I know you?”

He looked directly at her face. Then he recognized her. Ruth Byler. He’d gone to school with her, although she was a couple of years behind him. But who could forget Miss Perfect, straight-A, teacher’s pet Ruth?

“I do know you. Zachariah Bender,
ya
?”

“
Ya
. That’s me.” Right now he wished he were someone else. And someplace else. He glanced at the board behind the big teacher’s desk. It had been spared from the flying debris, and he saw letters on the board in print and cursive. “You’re teaching here?”

“Tomorrow’s my first day.” She moved to a standing position, keeping her gaze on the floor. She placed the bloody piece of his shirt on her desk and looked up, adjusting her glasses again as she faced the wreck. Her body froze, her fingertips remaining on one corner of the frames. Her lower lip began to tremble.

Uh oh
. Her body began to sway, and he popped to his feet to steady her again.

“What . . . happened?”

Aware that his arm was still around her shoulders, he stepped away, but stayed near in case she started to swoon again. “I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

Ruth brushed past him toward the truck. “The desks . . . the floor.” The words sounded like they were stuck in her throat. Turning slowly, she fixed her eyes on him, her expression a meld of shock and confusion. “What have you done?”

“Now, hold on. It’s not as bad as it looks.” The words sounded dumb, but he needed to reassure himself almost as much as he needed to reassure her. He was grateful that he hadn’t gone through the window-side of the schoolhouse. If he had, there would have been flying glass everywhere. And who knows what would’ve happened to Ruth then. He walked away from her and wove through the debris toward the truck. He pulled a couple of broken boards away from the front. The truck only had minimal damage. The silver bumper hung by a screw, the front grille had a large dent, and there was an impressive crack dividing the front headlight. The windshield also had a crack that stretched across two-thirds of the glass, but from what he could tell, everything could be easily fixed.

He couldn’t say the same for the schoolhouse. He turned back to Ruth and saw her bend down and pick up a spiral notebook. She brushed off the dust and stared at it for a long moment. Her forehead had started to bleed again, but she stood there, staring at the mess, unmoving as the blood trickled down her face. Zach returned to the front of the room, retrieved the rag from her desk, and without thinking, walked over and dabbed her forehead. To his surprise she didn’t resist, probably too shocked to do anything but gape at the disaster surrounding them.

“You’ve got to get this checked,” he said. “You might need stitches.”

She pulled away from him and shook her head, placing the notebook on one of the desks that hadn’t been struck. “There’s no time for that. School starts tomorrow. I have to clean all this up.”

“Ruth, school won’t be opening tomorrow . . . or . . . for a while.” Guilt nearly suffocated him as he spoke.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she picked up pieces of a broken desk, setting them in a pile. When she stood up, her body swayed again. He scurried behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. “That’s it. You’re going home.”

“
Nee
, I’ve—”

“What in the world happened here?”

Zach looked up to see a Yankee man looking through the hole in the wall. He scooted his way around the truck, stepping over the rubble carefully, then looked at them with concern. “I was driving by and I saw the truck sticking out of the building. What a disaster. Are you two okay?”

“I’m fine,” Zach said, but he didn’t say anything about Ruth. He’d never seen this man before, and while he was probably a well-meaning stranger, Zach didn’t want him involved.

The man rubbed his salt-and-pepper goatee as he scanned the room. Zach caught a glimpse of the round bald spot peeking through his gray hair on top of his head. He glanced at Ruth, then Zach. “Is this your truck?”

Knowing it was useless to lie, Zach shook his head.

“You mean someone drove in here and then took off ?”

Pausing for a second, Zach shook his head again. “Um, not exactly.”

The man reached into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled out a cell phone. “I better call the police.”

“Nee.”
Zach stepped away from Ruth, pausing a moment to make sure she was solid on her feet. He strode toward the man, almost slipping on a spiral notebook. He could only imagine all the laws he’d broken today. The last thing he needed was a ticket. “This is my fault. I was driving my buddy’s truck and lost control. But we’re both all right. You don’t need to call the police.”

Doubt crossed the man’s features. “Are you sure?” He peered around Zach’s shoulder and scrutinized Ruth. “Is that blood on her forehead? I could call an ambulance. Or don’t you people use regular doctors?”

Zach realized the man wasn’t from around here. “We don’t need a doctor, but thanks for the offer.”

Ruth stepped forward and stood next to Zach. “It’s only a scratch.” She dabbed the bloody cloth on the wound, then pulled it away. A few drops clung to the pale blue fabric. “See? I’m fine, really. You don’t have to call anyone.”

The man frowned. “All right, but it’s against my better judgment. I can give you both a ride home at least. You’re not going anywhere in that truck.”

Ruth shook her head. “My buggy and horse are here.” She kept her gaze focused on the Yankee.

The man didn’t answer for a long moment, and Zach thought he might call the police anyway. Finally he said, “Guess there’s nothing I can do then.” He looked toward the hole in the wall then back at Zach and Ruth. “As long as you’re sure you’re okay . . .”

“We are.” Ruth nodded, still not looking at Zach.

“Then good luck to you. Looks like you’ll need it.” The Yankee took one more glance over his shoulder before disappearing outside.

Ruth immediately started picking up several textbooks off the floor, hugging them close to her small frame. Her glasses slipped down her nose, but she didn’t bother to push them up. She also hadn’t bothered to listen to him when he’d told her to stay still.

Putting his hands on his hips, Zach looked at her. “Ruth,
halt
. There’s nothing else we can do, at least not today. Come with
mei
. I can drive you home in your buggy.”

Now she looked at him. “I’ll drive myself home.”

“
Nee
. You don’t need to be driving with that bump on your head. I’ll take you.”

“I’ll drive myself home.” Her voice had a slight edge that hadn’t been there before. “I feel fine.” Squaring her shoulders, she removed her glasses and tucked them in her free hand while setting down the textbooks she’d picked up a moment ago. Any trace of confusion or anger in her expression had disappeared. “But I feel I must inform you that I will be stopping by my
schwoger’s haus
. Gabriel is on the school board. It’s appropriate he be notified of . . .” She paused, her lower lip quivering for a second. “Of what happened here.”

Zach’s shoulders hunched forward. “
Ya
, you’re right. I’ll have to let my
daed
know as soon as I get home. He’ll probably call an emergency meeting.”

Ruth’s delicate eyebrows arched. “Your
daed’s
on the school board?”

“Has been for years. You have him to thank for hiring you.”

She stiffened, but her emotions were controlled. The complete opposite of how he would have reacted if their situations were reversed. He appreciated the way she kept her cool.

“From what I understand it was a
group
decision.”

Ouch
. Maybe she wasn’t as calm as she seemed.

Ruth looked around the schoolhouse again. “It took me two weeks to get everything in order.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She turned toward the hole in the wall. The remnant of a poster clung to it, fluttering in the summer breeze.

Zach wanted to seep through the cracks in the floorboards— well, through the ones that weren’t splintered or destroyed already. His gaze followed her as she walked through the obstacle course to her desk and gathered her belongings into a navy blue tote bag. She slung it over her shoulder and started for the front door, clearly intending to leave without saying anything to him. She stopped just before walking outside and picked something up off the floor. A wooden apple, stained a rich red color. She brushed her tiny fingers over the glossy surface, then put it in her bag and walked out of the door.

He couldn’t let her go just like that. He jumped over the mess, slid past Rick’s truck, and left the schoolhouse through the new exit he’d made. He rushed to her buggy.

Standing behind her, he said, “Look, I’m really sorry.” His hat had fallen off in the accident, and he pushed back his damp bangs with the palm of his hand. It was a hot one today, the air surrounding them thick and heavy like a damp wool blanket. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, honest. And I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. The least I can do is take you home. I’m serious about you not driving with your head all messed up like that.”

She placed her bags on the bench seat of the buggy before facing him. Her expression blank, she said, “As I told you, I’m perfectly fine to drive myself home. I only live two and a half miles away.” She turned from him and walked over to unhitch her horse.

For some reason, her attitude rankled him. He’d rather she yell at him than behave as if everything was okay. That’s what a normal person would do. But Ruth was acting anything but normal. Giving up, he stepped to the side, then watched her back up her horse and buggy and ride away.

After the
clip-clop
of her horse’s hooves faded, he turned and faced the nightmare in front of him. Dread filled his gut and made him temporarily forget about Ruth. He clenched his jaw. How was he going to explain all this to his
daed
? He and his father had disagreed for years over everything from his choice in friends to the way he drove his buggy. But that wasn’t the end of his problems. He’d also wrecked his friend’s truck and destroyed an entire schoolhouse, not to mention making Ruth Byler really mad, even though she refused to show it.

How was he going to fix all that?

Chapter 2

O
w!” Ruth winced as her oldest sister wiped her forehead.

“You’re lucky it’s just a small cut,” Moriah said, dipping the wet rag back into a bowl of cool water. “You could have been seriously injured. What were you doing at the
schulhaus
today? It’s Sunday. You’re not supposed to be working.”

Ruth grimaced again. It wasn’t the cut that bothered her but the knot her sister kept touching. “I wasn’t working, per se. I was just making sure everything was ready for tomorrow.”

“Knowing you, I’m sure everything was perfect a week ago.” Moriah dabbed a little more. “You shouldn’t have been at the
schulhaus
, Ruth. You know that.”

“It doesn’t matter if I was there or not. Everything would still be ruined.” She closed her eyes, fighting her bubbling emotions. Just remembering the destruction in the schoolhouse caused her stomach to twist. It had taken all her mettle not to lose her temper with Zachariah. Yelling at him wouldn’t have changed or fixed what had happened.

She had driven over to her sister’s house right after leaving the schoolhouse. Now she sat in Moriah’s kitchen, trying to keep a logical head about what had happened as her sister continued her ministrations. Moriah had stopped dabbing, so Ruth opened her eyes.

“Sundays are the Lord’s days, Ruth. A day for rest. You would do well to heed that from now on.”

Unable to take any more of Moriah’s hovering, Ruth took the rag from her.
I’m not a
glee kinn
anymore
. As the youngest of six in the Byler household, Ruth had spent her whole life trying to prove that she was capable, that she wasn’t the little sister everyone had to watch out for and protect. She’d never liked to be babied, which Moriah insisted on doing, even now. She was almost seventeen years old and could take care of herself.

“I need to use the restroom,” Ruth said, standing up. She made her way to the bathroom, flipped on the battery-operated lamp her sister kept on the vanity, and closed the door.

Looking in the mirror, she examined her forehead, noting the slightly off-center bump made by the flying piece of wood. Gingerly she cleaned off the rest of the blood dotting her skin, then rinsed the dust from her face with cold water from the sink. She dried her cheeks, then released a deep breath. Moriah was right; she was lucky she hadn’t been seriously injured. The wood plank could have struck her in the eye or hit her head with enough force to give her a concussion. She didn’t want to admit it, but both her sister and Zachariah had a right to be concerned.

Her head throbbed, but the pain didn’t compare with the fury rising inside her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been at the schoolhouse in the first place, but Zachariah shouldn’t have been either. She took a deep breath, fighting to tamp her anger down. Zachariah Bender. It would figure he was the one to do something like this. Who could forget such a troublemaker?

She hadn’t realized who he was at first, which could have been due to getting hit on the head. Or it could have been because he had changed since they had been in school together. She remembered him as a short, stocky boy who was always disrespectful to authority, annoying the teacher and everyone around him, except for the few boys he hung out with who laughed at his juvenile jokes. To Ruth, he’d been the most irritating person she’d ever met, and she had been jubilant when he finally graduated.