A Heart Made New (6 page)

Annie recognized that posture. She used it herself. Every day. Calm and quiet strength on the outside, but on the inside, a heart that was breaking. Determined not to let the first tear spill, Annie gnawed on her already raw lower lip and strode across the porch to the door. It opened before she had a chance to reach for the knob. Luke stood in the doorway. “It’s about time.”

“Jah. It’s been a long day.” She brushed past him, not wanting to see the disapproval in his eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help with supper.”

“Leah needs you to be here,
schweschder.
The girls are teething and fussy.” His frown fierce, Luke tugged at his beard with an enormous, callused hand. “But that’s not my concern right now.
Onkel
John stopped by. He told me what happened at the bakery.”

“I guess everyone in the countryside has heard by now.” Annie summoned a smile. She needed to tell him about Sarah. First things first. Let him recover from one shock before she delivered another blow. “Everything is fine. No one was hurt.”

“You were shot at.” Luke’s inflection didn’t change, but the furrow over his eyes deepened. “He missed. A poor shot?”

Annie repeated her story again.

“Mayor Haag is involved.” Luke winced. He sank into the hickory rocker. “The Englischer brought a gun into the bakery with the intent to rob you. That was no accident. I’m concerned about you working in town. Every day more outsiders come. Too many.”

“Most are tourists who want to take our pictures or buy something Amish. They mean no harm. This was an…unusual circumstance. It could’ve been any store in Bliss Creek.” Annie sat in the other rocker and gripped her hands together. She kept her voice respectful. Since
their parents’ deaths, Luke was the head of the Shirack household. He had the final word. “Are you saying I’m not to work anymore? We need my income.”

“You could go back to selling your baked goods at the produce stand.” He rocked back and forth, his gaze directed at the windows, even though the dark green blinds were drawn against the setting sun. “Then you would be at home. With two sets of twins and three boys to oversee, Leah’s working her fingers to the bone. Not that she complains. The cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the sewing, the canning, the garden…and now the little ones are teething.”

The recitation of Leah’s tasks and the slight note of entreaty in her brother’s voice surprised Annie. Luke had never given much thought to women’s work, she was certain of that. Leah must have said something about Annie not helping enough. That had to be it. On top of everything else, Luke had to listen to Leah’s opinions about his family. He’d held them together by sheer force of will since the accident. If taking care of his brothers and sisters as well as his own four children overwhelmed him, he never let it show—until now. Leah had a hand in it, to be sure.

“I’ll cut back on my hours and do more work before I leave in the morning. I can get up earlier.” Annie didn’t want to add to his burden. She chose her words carefully. “I’ll make sure I’m home in time to fix supper and clean up the kitchen.”

“Mary and Lillie can clean up.” Luke pursed his lips, making his beard bob. “It’s the cooking. They’re not old enough to handle that without close supervision. They’re cutting the grass now and cleaning the chicken house, but their work on the laundry isn’t up to Leah’s standards yet. They’re too short to hang clothes on the lines.”

Leah
had
complained. At least Luke didn’t disagree with Annie’s plan. Hope coursed through her, bringing with it the courage to speak. Luke was still Luke, her big brother, protector, and defender.

“Don’t worry about the bakery. Sergeant Parker called it an isolated incident.” Those words had stuck in Annie’s mind.
Isolated incident.
She hadn’t felt isolated. She’d felt exposed. A chill shook her. “I’ll
get home earlier. I’ll do the baking and leave the counter work to Sadie. She’ll understand. I’m going to fix myself a bite to eat and then I’ll do some sewing.”

Luke rocked once and the chair squeaked under his weight. “Leah saved you a plate—stuffed pork chops and mashed potatoes. You weren’t hurt? Flying glass?” He looked as if he were imagining the scene. “No bumps or bruises? Leah has a salve—”

“The man apologized before he took the money.” Annie had been trying not to remember the ear-shattering blasts or the prickly shower of glass. “He said he needed to feed his child.”

His forehead wrinkled, bushy eyebrows raised, Luke leaned forward and gripped his knees. He looked so much like Daed, she would never have to worry about forgetting her father’s face. “Did you tell him we would give him food?”

“Jah. We offered him food from the bakery.”

Luke shifted in the chair again. “Sometimes people start down the road and take a wrong turn. Then they don’t know how to get turned around again.”

Like Josiah, who had come back but still seemed mesmerized by the road he’d traveled.

“They need the rest of us to show them the way.” Annie couldn’t bring herself to tell Luke about Sarah, not when he looked so tired and worn from the weight of his responsibilities at home. “There’s one other thing. Sergeant Parker made it sound like we would have to testify in court. Against the man.”

“No.” Luke’s frown deepened. “We hold no grudge against this man. I’ll speak to the bishop about it tomorrow when we have the meeting.”

“He says I don’t have a choice. I’m a witness. Sadie, Miriam, and I all are witnesses.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll speak to the bishop.”

Luke leaned back and closed his eyes. Annie stood in the doorway, unsure whether to leave him. She did worry about it and a lot of other things. Like her brother aging before her eyes.

“Luke?”

He opened his eyes. “What?”

“Is something else wrong?”

“Something beside my little schweschder getting shot at?”

His half-chuckle sounded weak. When was the last time she’d heard him laugh? “You seem…worried.”

“Worrying is a sin.”

How often had she heard that rule? She’d yet to hear someone explain how to stop worrying. “I know.”

“It’s nothing new.” He sat his hat on his knee and ran a hand through thick curls. More forehead showed these days. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “With our methods of growing crops, we have difficulty producing enough to cover our costs. We need to become more cost efficient or we could begin to see farms lost.”

“Farms lost.” Annie grabbed the doorframe and steadied herself. “Our farm?”

“It won’t come to that.” He looked up at her, his tone firm, his expression determined. “We will manage. We will learn.”

Annie didn’t know what that meant. She only knew she couldn’t imagine her life without this home she’d grown up in. She couldn’t imagine living in town. “Is there something I can do? Work more hours?”

“You do plenty. Pray for God’s guidance and follow the
Ordnung
. Nothing more is asked of you.”

“What will you do?”

“The same.” Luke rubbed the spot along the ridge of his nose until it turned red. “And I’ve been considering switching from wheat to beef.”

Cattle. Annie knew little about such things. “There’s more money in that?”

“There are a lot of start-up costs, but the margin of profit is much greater and there are fewer issues with weather.”

Start-up costs. Margin of profits. These things meant nothing to Annie, but she would raise the cattle herself if it meant staying in the home she’d grown up in and visiting with neighbors she’d known her whole life.

Before she could speak, high-pitched squalling whipped down the stairs and drowned out the silence. Luke opened his eyes. “That would be Esther. She’ll wake Martha any second now.”

“I can take them into my room.” The way he could tell the cries of his daughters, one from the other, warmed Annie. “You two need to get some rest.”

“Leah will put some ointment on their gums. They’ll go back to sleep—God willing.” He rose and started up the stairs, his steps heavy on the wood. “Don’t worry about what I told you. God will lead us where He wants us to go.” He stopped midway. “And David?”

“The same.”

He nodded and tromped out of sight.

What else could she say? Annie contemplated the chasm that separated her from David. She had no idea how David was. He wouldn’t tell her. Wouldn’t let her in. Didn’t even want her in the room. What did he fear?

If she’d learned anything from Mudder and Daed’s deaths, it was that life consisted of a brilliant flash of light, like the sun as it peeked from behind the thunderheads or lightning rippling on the horizon. It faded before a person had a chance to reach for it, let alone touch it. If she closed her eyes—whether from fear or uncertainty—she would miss the golden, shiny God moments. Walking along the pond, skipping rocks and watching the turtles sun themselves. Playing volleyball with the children. Picking strawberries. Feeding the chickens. Rocking baby nieces. Baking bread. Eating watermelon. Sweet moments.

With pain came joy, blossoming, magnificent joy. Like baptism. Like marriage. Like giving birth. Annie remained as certain of that as she was of the wooden floor under her bare feet. Time shot forward in leaps and bounds, making each moment something to be cherished. She wanted to cherish time with David before it ran out. However short or long it turned out to be.

He didn’t feel the same way. She should stop waiting for the time in which he would. If God’s plan for her did not include marriage to David, she had to learn to accept it and move on. Luke expected her
to marry and start a life of her own. She could not continue to add to her brother’s burden. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. She only wanted to marry, have children, and grow old with the man she loved. Wasn’t that what every Plain woman wanted? Why wouldn’t God want her to have that? She didn’t have the temerity to ask. Her lot was to accept and obey. Somehow she had to accept the possibility that God intended her for another. She had to bury her feelings for David.

If only she could figure out how.

Suddenly too tired to eat or sew, she followed in Luke’s footsteps. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated. The crying had ceased to pour from Leah and Luke’s room. She trudged down the hallway, intent on slipping into bed.

Tomorrow would be another day. She would catch up on the darning of socks and letting out the hems in the boys’ pants tomorrow. From little Joseph and William all the way to Josiah, the boys seemed to get taller every day…and needed clothes to match. Lately Mark looked like he planned to go wading in the pond, with the bottoms of his pants not coming close to reaching his ankles. The mountain of work never receded.

A plaintive, half-muffled sob stopped her. It came from her sisters’ room. Lillie and Mary should have been asleep by now. Annie opened their door a crack and peered in. Mary knelt by the bed, her hands clasped in front of her.

“God, I just wondered if you could maybe help me.” Another little sob. “Leah is mean to me and Lillie. All the time. I know you saw her yell at us today. I didn’t mean to spill the flour. And Lillie tried to stand on a footstool to hang up the pants on the line. Josiah’s pants are bigger than she is. They only got a little dirt on them. Maybe you could help the twins sleep more so Leah wouldn’t be so tired. I’d like that a lot. Thank you. Amen.”

Mary laid her head on the quilt and sobbed. The sound shattered Annie’s heart and scattered the pieces across the heavens. She slipped into the room and knelt next to her little sister. “
Ach
, schweschder, Mary, it’s all right.”

The girl threw herself against Annie’s chest. “Shhh. Leah will hear you. She’s mad at us.”

“Why?”

“She says we just make more work. We don’t help. We hinder. That’s what she says.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here more. I’ll be here to help more. I promise.” Lillie and Mary were six years old. They were growing up without a mother and father. Leah had a responsibility to teach them, not terrorize them. Annie’s resolve grew. “I promise.”

Mary wiped her wet face on Annie’s apron. “I miss Emma.”

“Me too.”

“And Catherine.”

“Jah.”

“Can Emma live at home again?”

“No, little schweschder, she’s married to Thomas now. You know that.”

“But Catherine could. She didn’t get married. She doesn’t have a husband.”

They really didn’t know that. Catherine had been gone more than a year. Not one word in all that time. As was to be expected. After being baptized, she’d chosen to forsake the Plain ways and seek an education in the Englisch world. “She’s not coming back.”

Mary wiped at her face with the back of her arm. The tears ceased. She crawled under the sheet next to Lillie, who slumbered peacefully, an occasional little snore the only noise in the room.

“Goodnight, Annie.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Annie closed the door without a sound. Less time at the bakery. Less time with David. It was for the best. Her sisters needed her. Her family needed her. David didn’t. She would learn to accept that.

Somehow.

D
avid signed the last piece of paper with his neat, careful signature and pushed the paper across the counter to the discharge clerk. She acknowledged the gesture with a quick smile. “You’re good to go.”