A Hand to Hold (22 page)

The pounding of a hammer pulled her gaze to the roof of the barn. Stephen was crouched on the steep incline, working on one of the holes. Even at this distance she could see the strength in his arm as he brought the hammer down, the muscles visible because the short sleeves of his white shirt were rolled tightly above his upper arm. She jerked her head away from the view of the barn, bothered by the sudden surge of attraction she felt.

She forced herself to ignore Stephen and focus on the job she needed to do. She had been in Middlefield for two weeks and she still hadn’t written to Thomas, mostly because she was busy, but she also had to admit that she had been avoiding the task. After she’d put Will to bed, she sought out some of her mother’s stationery, then grabbed a ballpoint pen and came outside. She ran her finger across the delicate rose drawing at the top of the paper, fighting back tears. Deborah had received many letters from her mother over the past two years, written on this same paper. She brought the tablet to her chest. Would this pain ever go away?

Wiping her nose, she took a deep breath and began the letter.
Dear Thomas
. . . But for some reason the rest of the words wouldn’t come. Even his image was fuzzy in her mind. She hadn’t thought about his marriage proposal since she’d come back home. If he barely entered her thoughts, how could she even consider marrying him?

She looked at Stephen again. He had moved to another part of the roof. He was still crouched but leaning back, almost to a sitting position. He took off his straw hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, then ran his fingers through his hair, making it mussed and a bit wild-looking. He put the hat back on and went back to work.

She had yet to see Stephen angry or frustrated about anything. Even Will had taken to him, toddling over to him earlier that evening right after he’d arrived. Stephen had scooped him up in one arm and carried him back to her, tickling Will under his chubby chin before handing him over. He was a natural with her son, and she knew he would be a wonderful father someday. If only things were different, then maybe she’d have a chance with a man like Stephen.

But things weren’t different. By now, like in Paradise, everyone knew about Will’s father, about how she had foolishly ignored her Amish faith to be with a Yankee man. Maybe there was a man in Middlefield who could overlook that, like Thomas was willing to do. But what if there wasn’t?

She glanced down at the letter in her lap, then closed her eyes and prayed. She sensed the Lord telling her what was already in her heart—she couldn’t marry Thomas. He might be able to live without love, but she couldn’t. She put the pen to paper and forced herself to write. After quickly signing her name, she took a matching envelope from the box, slipped the letter inside, then sealed it. She hurried to the mailbox at the end of the driveway, placed it inside, and lifted the red flag. As she made her way back to the house, a heaviness settled over her heart, even though she knew she’d done the right thing.

She went back to the porch, intent on gathering the stationery and going back inside. But when she climbed the steps, she heard Stephen call out to her. “Deborah.”

Deborah turned and faced him. The hot and muggy evening had taken its toll on him. Beads of perspiration slid down the sides of his face, and his shirt was soaked. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

He nodded, removing his hat. His face was flushed from the heat. “That would be
wunderbaar
.”

She dashed inside and fixed him some ice water, using the largest glass she could find. When she came outside he was squeezing himself into one of the plastic chairs on the front porch. “Sit here,” she said, touching the hickory rocker, which was bigger than the chair.

“I’m fine right here.” He smiled and sat down. “See? No problem.”

But he looked uncomfortable, his knees rising up to the level of his chest. She couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can have the rocker. I’ll take the chair.”

He hesitated, then tried to get up, but the chair stuck to his back end.

A laugh escaped her lips. Mortified, she covered her mouth, hoping she hadn’t offended him.

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Guess the chair wants to come with me.” He grinned and set the chair on the porch, then sat in the rocker.

She dropped her hand from her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“Why not?” He shrugged, still smiling. “It was funny. And it’s not the first time I’ve tangled with a chair.”

Giggling, she handed him the water. He gulped it down. “
Danki
. That hit the spot.” He set the glass down on the small table next to the rocker. “I was hoping it would cool down a little tonight. Too bad it hasn’t.” Removing his hat, he ran his large hand through his hair again, making the ends stick up in damp clumps. Then his expression grew serious. “I wondered if I could talk to you about something.”

Deborah sat and watched him, mesmerized. His hair was thick, the locks covering his ears, and she started to wonder how it would feel against her hand. She clasped her fingers together and squeezed them tight. When she realized he was waiting for her answer, she said, “Um, sure.”

“It’s about your
daed
. I’m a little worried about him.”

A thread of panic wound through her. “Why? Did something happen?”

“
Nee
,
nix
. He’s fine, although he seems pretty tired.”

“
Ya
. I noticed that too.”

“Understandable, considering the circumstances. But I’m more concerned with something he said to me.” Stephen angled his body toward her and leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. “He mentioned selling the farm.”

Deborah frowned. “He did?”

Stephen nodded. “Has he talked about that before?”

“
Nee
, not that I know of.” She paused. “But I was gone for a while and haven’t been back long.” She looked down at her lap, feeling a familiar twinge of guilt. “I could ask Naomi. But I can’t imagine him selling this place. It’s his whole life.”

“He’s worried he can’t keep up with the place. And you were right the other night about him not wanting me to come out here so often. But I think I convinced him that it’s not a bother to me. I like doing the work.” He sat up straight. “I told him I’d help him out as long as he needed me. But he still seems to have some doubts about handling the farm himself.”

She sat back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Do you really think he wants to sell?” Just the thought of it triggered panic.

“I don’t think so, not right now anyway.” At the sound of her relieved sigh, he smiled and said, “Thought you’d be happy about that.”

“I am.” She rubbed her left earlobe. “But I also understand how he feels. I wish I could do more to help him, but keeping up with Will takes up a lot of my time.”

“As it should. Don’t feel guilty for taking care of your
sohn
, Deborah. That’s what
gut mudders
do.”

She looked at him, a lump lodging in her throat. He’d said exactly what she needed to hear. “What did you say to make
Daed
change his mind?”

Stephen leaned back in the rocker. “I told him to think of Will. That was the clincher. But I’m not sure the thought of selling won’t cross his mind again. That’s why I’m telling you about this. I figured you’d want to know.”

Deborah nodded. Despite her efforts, tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes. She averted her gaze and wiped them away.

“Deborah?”

She turned at the sound of Stephen’s deep voice, unable to resist his gentle tone. “I’m all right.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re crying.” He moved forward again. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” More tears flowed, and she fisted her hands. “I feel so stupid.”

“Why?”

“Crying in front of you.” She sniffed, wishing she had a tissue. Even more, she wished she could control her emotions, but the more she tried to stop the tears, the more they betrayed her. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the action would cease the flow.

She heard the squeak of the porch floor as he got up from the rocker. She didn’t open her eyes, knowing that he was walking away. Her father could never abide his wife’s or daughters’ tears, always leaving the room whenever the waterworks started. She certainly couldn’t blame Stephen for doing the same.

“Deborah. Look at me.”

Opening her eyes, she saw Stephen kneeling in front of her. It was a strange feeling, looking down on a man she had always looked up to. His dark blue eyes were filled with compassion. “Don’t apologize. You just lost your
mudder
. You have a right to grieve.”

His kind words touched her soul, making her more vulnerable. “It’s not just that. I’m worried about
Daed
too. He’s not the same since
Mami
died. Not that I expect him to be, but he’s so distant sometimes. Then the next minute he seems almost fine, like
Mami’s
still here but she’s gone to town for the day.” She brushed her cheek with the palm of her hand. “And then there’s Naomi . . .” She gazed down at him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not your problem. It’s mine.” She wiped her face and tried to force a smile. “I’m sure I’m boring you to death with my self-pity.”

He shook his head. “I’m not bored at all. I wish I could help you somehow.”

“You have, more than enough.” She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. “I’m okay, really.”

Worry creased his forehead. “I don’t think you are.”

He was right, but she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. “
Danki
for telling me about
Daed
. I’ll let Naomi know, and together we’ll watch out for him.” She moved to get up from the chair, but he was in her way.

Taking the cue, he stood, allowing her to stand. She looked up at him, moved by his concern, which only made her want to cry more. Why couldn’t she get her emotions under control? She expected him to step aside and let her pass, but for some reason he remained there, staring down at her with kindness. If she didn’t get away from him, she would break down completely, and she didn’t want him witnessing that. “Did you need something else to drink?” she asked, trying to sound unaffected. But the tremble in her voice gave her away.

“
Nee
. Deborah, I—”

“Then I should get back inside, in case Will wakes up.” Before he could say anything else, she ran inside and upstairs to her room. Not wanting to disturb Will, she gently sat on her bed, lowered her head into her hands, and sobbed in silence.

At the end of the first two weeks of school, Ruth finally felt like she had established a routine. Her days hadn’t been without a few hiccups, but now she had command of her students and the curriculum. With each passing day, her confidence grew, and the doubts she’d had on that disastrous first day had disappeared. But there was still one problem that she couldn’t solve. She had yet to find a way to teach Jacob.

She had tried a few different methods with him. Being nice. Being harsh. Telling him to stay after school, which he wouldn’t do. But even through the problems, she could see his potential. He’d made a couple of jokes in class that were clever, and he’d given a right answer or two, which meant he was paying attention to some degree. But she had no idea how to talk to him, to discipline him, or to teach him.

Though she’d wanted to handle Jacob herself, she had to get his father involved. She had driven herself to school that morning so she could go to the buggy shop and speak with David Kline when school was over.

As she made her way down Hayes Road, she thought about Zach. True to his word, he had replaced the window with a new one, and he had done so in time for the first rain they’d had in September. The stifling heat had ended and was replaced by cooler air and less humidity. But Zach had made himself scarce, which disappointed her. Now that the schoolhouse was finished, the window replaced, and the new desks delivered, there wasn’t a reason for him to come around. She wondered what he was doing with his time, other than working at the buggy shop. She missed him, more than she thought she would. She thought she might see him at the shop today, but then she remembered that he worked in the mornings.

When she went inside Kline’s Buggy Shop, another customer stood at the counter, a man who appeared to be near her father’s age. A few moments passed but no one came to help him. Ruth turned to leave, deciding to stop by the Kline house and hopefully catch Jacob’s mother.

Then Zach appeared from a room in the far back of the shop, his head down as he maneuvered his way through the buggy parts toward the front. He approached the counter and looked up at the man in front of her. Obviously he hadn’t noticed her yet. He and the customer were speaking in low tones, and when Ruth moved forward a few steps, she could hear parts of the conversation.

“So you want to add a blinker to the buggy?” Zach asked.

The older man nodded. “My
sohn’s
been driving it. Let’s say he’s not as careful as I’d like him to be. I think the blinker will help. You know how fast some of these cars
geh
around here. Plus people don’t pay no attention anymore. Driving around here’s not like it used to be back in the day.”