A Hand to Hold (28 page)

He walked in the door, his steps almost tentative. His hands still in his pockets, he looked down at her. “I owe you an apology. Again.”

“Zach, I—”

“Ruth, I have to get this out before I lose my nerve.” He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. I was mad at myself, not at you.” He took a step backward. “All these years I’ve hidden the fact that I can’t read. I didn’t want anyone to think I was stupid.”

“No one thinks you’re stupid, Zach.”

“I do. I don’t get how to read. I never have. There’s something wrong with me.”

Ruth’s heart went out to him. “How can you say that? Zach, you’re so talented. Look at this place.” She held her arms out wide. “A month ago there was a huge hole in the wall!”

“Which I caused.”

“Accidentally caused. And you repaired everything almost exclusively on your own. You know how smart you have to be to do that? I’ve grown up around carpenters. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Look, Ruth, I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you do.” She moved toward him. “I don’t think you appreciate what I’m saying at all. I also don’t think you appreciate yourself. Not like I do.” The words slipped out, but instead of wishing she hadn’t said them, she continued. “Let me help you, Zach. I can teach you how to read.”

“You don’t know what a tall order that is.”

“I don’t care.”

He stepped away from her. “I’m fine, Ruth. Really. Things are going great for me at the shop and hopefully David can bring me on full-time. I feel better about life than I have in a long time. I don’t need to learn how to read.”

But his words didn’t jibe with the pain she saw in his eyes. She noticed something else too. At that moment she realized what held him back. “You’re afraid.”

His brows lifted. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of anything.”

“
Ya
. You are.” She stepped closer to him, and when he tried to move away from her, she put her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Zach.”

He looked at her hand on his arm, and she started to pull away. Before she could, he covered it with his own.

His hand felt warm. Strong. She looked up at him through her glasses, still seeing the fear there. What could she do to reassure him?
Lord, help him understand that I’m here for him. That I won’t give up on him, and I never will
.

“What if I can’t?” he suddenly said in a low voice. His hand, still covering hers, tightened. “What if I never learn to read?”

She smiled at him. “You will, Zach. I promise you will.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“It’s okay.” Her smile widened. “I have enough for both of us.”

The morning after her father’s collapse, Deborah rose early, before Will woke up. She went into the kitchen where Naomi sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. Her sister didn’t look up or acknowledge her as she entered the room. It was as if everything was back to normal. But things between her and her sister were never normal, and after yesterday, she didn’t see how they ever could be.

Deborah pulled out a pot, filled it with water for oatmeal, and put it on the stove to boil. She added a little salt. While she waited on the water, she got two slices of bread out of the pantry and put a small amount of butter on each. Soon she had breakfast ready for her father and set it on a tray to take to his room. She turned to Naomi, who still had her head buried in the newspaper.

“Do you want anything?” At least she could try to be civil.

Naomi continued to ignore her. The only sound in the kitchen was the whispering of the newspaper page being turned. Deborah swallowed her ire and left the kitchen. When she reached her father’s room, she knocked on the door with her elbow.

“Come in,” she heard him say.

She walked in and smiled at him. “Breakfast! Thought you might be hungry since you missed supper last night.” She still couldn’t believe her father had slept for the rest of the afternoon and night. The sedative Dr. Williams had given him must have been powerful.

With weary eyes her father looked at the tray in Deborah’s hands. “
Danki
, Deborah. But Naomi already brought me breakfast about an hour ago.”

Deborah froze. Naomi had watched her make the food, and she must have known it was for their
daed
when Deborah put it on the tray. And still she said nothing.

“Everything all right?” He shifted to a half-sitting, half-leaning position on the bed.

Remembering what the doctor said about keeping her
daed’s
stress level low, she said, “It’s all fine.” She set the breakfast on his dresser and walked over to him. “Do you need anything else?”

“Ya.”
He held his hands out in front of him, gesturing to the bed. “I need to get out of this bed and back to work.”

“You can’t do that. Not yet. The doctor said—”

“I know what the doctor said. Naomi told me. Stole twenty minutes of my life giving me a lecture about eating habits and stress.” He frowned. “That young doc means well but doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t have no heart attack. I was just tired.”

Deborah pulled up the oak rocking chair that was in the corner of the room. “We want you to get plenty of rest. Naomi and I can help out. Whatever you need us to do, we’ll do it.”

He shook his head. “I know you will, but you have enough to do as it is. Plus you need to take care of my
grosssohn
. And I don’t want to always depend on other people in the community to help me out. They have their own families to take care of.”

“
Daed
, I know you like to do things on your own, but it’s okay to accept help, especially from
familye
and
freind
.”

“I know that.” He leaned back against his pillow and sighed. “It’s just . . . well, I ain’t what I used to be. I can’t spend the rest of my days depending so much on other people.”

“Oh,
Daed
.” She didn’t want to hear him talk like this, even though those thoughts had entered her mind too. She needed to know for sure what he planned to do. “Stephen told me something the other day.”

He lifted a gray eyebrow. “What?”

“He said you were thinking about selling the farm.” She looked at her father, almost afraid to hear his answer. “Is that true?”

He shrugged, staring down at his lap. “Eventually, I might have to.”

Her throat constricted. “But I know how much you love this place. There’s got to be something else we can do.”

Her father stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what.” Then he looked at Deborah. “But I want you to understand, I won’t sell to just anyone. The
mann
who buys this farm has to love the land like I do. I’m not handing over this farm just so some yahoo can put a fast-food place on it.”

Deborah almost smiled. Considering they lived on a dirt road off the beaten path, there was no chance of that happening. But hearing her father say he would wait on the perfect buyer gave her hope.

“
Ya
, I’ll need to find someone who will treat the land with respect. Someone like Stephen.” He nodded. “He’d make a fine farmer. Never seen a
mann
take to farming like him.”

“But he’s a carpenter. He has his own business.”

Her father tugged on his beard. “That he does. But maybe I could convince him otherwise.”

Naomi’s accusation against Stephen rang in Deborah’s head. Surely her sister wasn’t right. It had to be a coincidence that her father brought Stephen up. She couldn’t imagine Stephen’s generosity was just an act to get in their good graces. Or was it?

She stood up and kissed her father on the cheek, making sure not to reveal her thoughts. “You don’t have to think about that right now, okay? Naomi and I have everything under control. Promise me you’ll rest and not worry about anything.”

“But—”

“Promise?”

“All right,” he huffed, leaning back. As he closed his eyes, Deborah picked up the tray of uneaten oatmeal and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

She walked into the kitchen to see Naomi wiping down the countertop. The dishes Deborah used to make breakfast had disappeared. Naomi had probably washed, dried, and put them away already. She set the tray on the kitchen table and sat down. She rubbed her temples, not wanting to bring up the subject of the farm with her sister. But after the conversation with her father, she knew she had to. Better to get it over with now. “
Daed
really is thinking about selling the farm.”

“What?” Naomi spun around and faced her. “When did he say that?”

“Just now. I asked him.”

Naomi threw the dishrag on the counter. “I knew it. I bet he’s planning to sell it to Stephen Byler. Did he say anything about that?”

“He mentioned him—”

“I told you.” She locked her furious gaze on Deborah. “He’s brainwashed
Daed
into selling to him.”

She shook her head. “
Nee
. That can’t be right.” But even as she said the words, doubt slithered into her thoughts. Her judgment had always been bad when it came to men; trusting Chase was a prime example. And now she had trusted Stephen. After yesterday, her feelings toward him were clear. She cared about him, not out of loneliness or because her life was upside down, but because of the man he was. Or the man she thought he was. Her heart ached at the possibility of being betrayed by someone she cared about. “
Daed
hasn’t made the decision yet. We just have to make sure it doesn’t get to that point.”

Naomi’s expression softened a tiny bit. “What do you mean?”

“We can help him run the farm. It can’t be too hard, can it? It’s not like we haven’t helped him over the years.”

“Some of us more than others.”

Her sister was right. During her
rumspringa
, Deborah had rarely been home to lend a hand. She had been too busy working at Mary Yoder’s, hanging out with her friends, and having fun. She couldn’t dwell on the guilt that accompanied that thought, however. She could put up with Naomi’s digs if it meant she could get her sister’s cooperation and they could keep the farm. “The harvest is in. The canning is almost done. We just have a few jars of green beans to finish. All we’ll have to do after that is take care of the animals.”

“And prepare the garden for the winter,” Naomi added. “And what about the woodstove? We’ll have to make sure there’s enough wood to keep it going throughout the winter.”

“But that’s pretty much it.”

“
Ya
, if you don’t count laundry, cooking, cleaning, preparing for church service, which we’ll be hosting in a month, plus anything else I can’t think of at the moment.”

Defeat dragged at Deborah. Couldn’t her sister be positive for once? “Are you saying we can’t do this? That we should just let
Daed
sell the farm without even trying?”

Naomi didn’t answer for a long moment.
“Nee.”

“Then we’ll have to work together to make sure that doesn’t happen. Can we do that?” She heard Will crying upstairs. She stood. “I have to
geh
get him.” She glanced at the tray behind her. “I’ll take care of that when I come back down.”

Naomi picked up the oatmeal bowl from the tray and dumped it into the trash can without saying anything, keeping her back to Deborah.

Deborah shook her head. Her sister would never change. Not only did she have an uphill battle taking care of the farm, she’d still be fighting Naomi. She moved to leave the kitchen when Naomi called her name.

“What?” she said, turning around.

Her sister paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment. Then she looked up, the tight lines around her lips relaxing. “What do you think Will wants for breakfast?”

Chapter 19

Z
ach pulled Maggie to a stop in front of the school, then tied her reins to the hitching post. He turned and looked at the familiar building in front of him. The students had already gone home for the day, and Ruth was inside, ready to give him his first reading lesson. But he was more nervous than a spooked horse. Ruth said she could teach him to read. Promised him. But he still wasn’t sure if she could. Not because he doubted her. He questioned whether he could learn. He spent eight years in this
schulhaus
and he still couldn’t read. What if he would never be able to?

He continued to stare at the schoolhouse. A little more than a month had passed since he’d driven into the back of it, and so much had changed. His relationship with his father had begun to heal. He had a steady job he enjoyed and his boss’s respect. And his relationship with Ruth had grown into something beyond friendship. He cared for her more than he thought possible. Just thinking about her made him smile. Taking a deep breath, he walked toward the door. He let out a chuckle when he thought back to when he was a schoolboy. If someone had told him he would be spending this much time in a schoolhouse—without being forced to—he would have said they were crazy. But then again, he’d never had Ruth as a teacher.

She was at the blackboard when he walked in. The weather had turned a little cool, and she wore a long-sleeved dark blue dress with a white apron. She turned and smiled, her blue eyes twinkling behind her glasses.
So pretty
. He went to her and stood by her side.