Amish Country Box Set: Restless Hearts\The Doctor's Blessing\Courting Ruth (58 page)

But he couldn’t make himself let go.

Eli thought that if he could explain what had happened with Hazel to anyone, he would like it to be Ruth. And he needed to talk to someone about it. It was like a burr in his shoe, always there, always rubbing. He knew Ruth had heard the rumors, and it was unfair to keep the truth from her. But he had to protect Hazel, and dragging her down to excuse his own actions would be a worse sin than what he’d done, wouldn’t it? “Eli.”

A flood of emotion swelled in his chest.
“Ya?”

Was it right that he could take such pleasure in hearing her say his name? He was like any other man, English or Amish, but Ruth was special. He’d never felt so happy just to walk with a girl. He remembered how warm and soft her small hand had felt, and how right it had felt, sitting in the semidarkness of the movie theater beside her.

“Are you coming to church tomorrow at our house?” she asked, breaking through his thoughts.

He didn’t want to. It would be a mistake. Sitting through the sermon, letting himself believe that there might be hope for him and then having that hope dashed. It would simply hurt too much.

“Are you?” she pressed when he didn’t answer.

“I promised your mother, didn’t I?” he hedged. Not that it would be of any use. He’d leave the service with the same empty feeling he’d had for years, that he wasn’t worthy of God’s love…that he didn’t belong.

“You should come. Mam will be disappointed if you don’t.” She turned to look into his eyes. “But you have to want to be there. It’s no good if you sit like a lump or
let your mind wander. You have to open your heart to the preacher’s message.”

“What if it’s not meant for me?” he asked, revealing more than he wanted to, more than was safe.

“But it is,” she insisted. “We have only to believe in our faith, to follow the laws, and we’re assured of a place in heaven.”

“You, maybe. Being good comes easy for you.”

“
Ne
. That’s not true.” There was a little smile at the corners of her mouth as she looked down at her bare feet. “You don’t really know me. I’m selfish and impatient. I judge people too quickly, and…” She sighed. “This list is long. I work at it every day. I really do. But I have failures and doubts. Everyone does. Like with Irwin.”

“What’s he doing now? More trouble?”

She shook her head. “Mam asked me not to talk about it…but…she wants him to come and help us out on a regular basis. I don’t know if it’s safe to have him on our farm. When I saw the fire at the schoolhouse…”

He waited, unwilling to press her.

“You can’t say anything,” she told him, obviously hesitant.

He stopped the wagon. “You know I won’t. What is it, Ruth? What’s troubling you? What did you see?” She was close enough for him to smell the clean scent of her hair and see the concern in her dark brown eyes.

“He crawled out from under the cloakroom and ran away. And he had burns on his hands.”

“You think he started the fire?”

She nodded. “Mam says not to jump to conclusions until we know, but Irwin won’t ever tell us if he’s guilty. He never admits to doing wrong. I know he’s been hurt by losing his family, but what if there had been children inside the
classroom? They could have been killed. Setting fires is not just a boy’s mischief. It’s evil.”

Eli let go of the wagon handle and folded his arms over his chest. “Have you asked Irwin what happened?”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “I can’t get two words out of him. Samuel’s twins may know something, but they aren’t talking, either.”

“What if I talk to the boys, see what I can find out? Maybe it would be different coming from me, me being a bad boy and all.”

He smiled and she smiled back. A smile that lit up his heart.

“I’d appreciate it,” Ruth said with a nod. “Mam has a good heart, but…”

“She’s a wise woman.”

“I’m afraid she’s too trusting.”

A high-pitched yelp broke the tranquility of the twilight. Eli glanced around, trying to find the source. “Did you hear that?”

“Over there.” Ruth pointed toward a hedgerow at the edge of the orchard. “I think it’s some kind of animal. Maybe a fox.”

The pitiful squeal came again. A thick wall of mulberry bushes and old-growth cedar trees ran along the property line between the Yoder farm and that of Martha and Reuben Coblentz. Eli left the wagon, and as he approached the hedgerow, sparrows flew up out of the wild roses. He crouched down and carefully pushed aside the thorny foliage.

“Be careful,” Ruth cautioned. She had followed him, but stayed back. “It might be a sick raccoon. You know they can carry rabies.”

Something thrashed in the prickly vines. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he murmured and then laughed.
“Well, look at this.” He thrust his hand into the tangle and pulled out a ragged, burr-encrusted and pitifully thin puppy. “It’s a dog,” he announced.

Half-healed cuts and patches of dried blood marred the little animal’s black-and-white fur. One paw was swollen and the plume of a tail so matted that it was hard to see where briars ended and puppy began. One ragged ear stood up and one hung down, but black button eyes stared at him hopefully and a red tongue licked at his hand. The whine rose to a joyous yip, and the little dog wriggled so hard Eli thought it might pop out of its skin.

“Ach,”
he said. “You’ve had a rough time of it, haven’t you?”

“Oh, let me see,” Ruth cried. “Poor little baby. How did he get here?”

“Probably dumped by the English.” Eli stood. “It happened all the time on my grandfather’s farm. City people think they can just drop their animals in the country.”

“Poor baby. Let me hold him.”

“Better not,” he cautioned. “He’s crawling with fleas.”

She uttered a sound of amusement. “Think I’m afraid of a few fleas? Give him to me.” She took the puppy from his hands and held it against her. “Sh, sh, hush now,
liebchen
. You’re safe now,” she crooned. “We’ll take care of you.”

The puppy began sucking frantically at her fingertips.

“He’s hungry.”

“Starving, I’d say. He was caught in the briars. He may have been out here for days.”

“Poor little thing.” She looked up at Eli, her brown eyes sparkling with determination. “I’m going to take him home and feed him.”

“He needs a bath, I’d say.”

“First some chicken broth and rice, then a bath.” She
glanced back at the wagon full of goodies. “Can you take those things to Mam? I’ll have to miss tonight’s work bee. I can’t take him with me, and he needs attention now.”

“You’re willing to miss the frolic to tend to a stray?”

She laughed, heading back toward the path. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It’s too small to be of much use as a farm dog. There must be an animal rescue place in Dover.” He followed her. “I could take it there tomorrow if you want.”

“Ne.”
She shook her head. “We found him, Eli. God must want us to take care of him.”

He thought about that. He liked animals, but his grandfather had never allowed any animal on the farm that wasn’t of use, either for work or meat. Old horses and cows past their prime had gone to the auction, and barn kittens had regularly been disposed of. As a child, he’d shed tears when a favorite was sold off or simply vanished, but he’d learned to accept the way things were.

Ruth’s determination to care for this little waif touched him. “If you’re going to take the dog home, I could deliver the food and then come back to help—”

“Ne.”
She shook her head. “It would not look right, both of us missing. People would think that we were together.”

He smiled at her in what he hoped was a persuasive way. “But that would be true, wouldn’t it? We would be together, taking care of the pup.”

“Are you looking for a way to get out of work? Uncle Reuben expects you to do your share.” She looked down at the squirming dog in her arms. “I can do this. You just take Mam’s contributions to the house.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“What will your mother say about you bringing him
home?” he ventured. He knew what his mother or his grandmother would have said.
The dog wasn’t worth saving.

Ruth smiled up at him and then turned away, headed back toward her farm. “She’ll fuss at the cost of the shots and vet bills, but she’ll let me keep him. Mam only pretends to be tough. Inside, she’s as soft as Susanna’s whoopie pie filling.” She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Good night, Eli Lapp. See you another day.”

“Another day,” he murmured to himself. The he grabbed the wagon handle and hurried up the lane. He couldn’t wait for another day with Ruth.

* * *

“Women are in the front room,” Reuben said, not seeming to care why Eli was pulling the Yoders’ wagon. “Just carry that stuff in and leave it on the kitchen counter. Then come back and find a hammer. There’s some loose nails on the windmill ladder. You can start by fixing that.”

Eli nodded and picked up the gallon jar of buttermilk. It had gathered a little dust but otherwise seemed none the worse for wear. Taking the gingerbread in his free hand, he walked up onto the screened porch and into the kitchen. Every available tabletop and counter seemed to be crammed with food, but he found a spot and slid the buttermilk into the open space.

From the other room, he heard the murmur of chattering women. But as he turned back to fetch the rest of Hannah’s things, he caught snatches of conversation coming from the porch.

“…asking for trouble. If my brother was alive, this would never happen.” A hand pulled the screened door open.

“But he’s not. And I have to do what I think is—” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence and smiled at Eli. “I saw the wagon. Is Ruth inside?”

Eli shook his head. “We found an abandoned puppy in the hedgerow. It was hurt. She took it back to the farm.”

“What? A dog?” the older woman said. “I never.”

“This is Reuben’s Martha,” Hannah said, introducing them.

He nodded. “You have the stand across from the Yoders, at Spence’s.”

Martha sniffed and scowled at him.

“It was good of you to bring the food.” Hannah glanced at her sister-in-law. “Susanna picked you some more strawberries. I know you said you wanted to make more jam. Where would you like Eli to put them?”

“In the milk house.” Martha pointed. “Over there. There’s a cold box, set into the ground.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “You’re late. The men have already started work.”

Eli stepped aside to let them pass. Had they been talking about him?

“It’s time your Ruth was married, and the next two as well,” Martha went on as they walked by. “They come and go as they please.”

Eli hurried out onto the porch, eager to get away from the disagreeable woman, but not before he heard her add, “You’re treading on thin ice, Hannah. You’ll be lucky if you’re not reprimanded by the bishop for running such a loose household.”

Hannah’s soft voice carried through the open window. “You mean well, sister, but you’re too quick to judge.”

“Are you accusing me of…”

Eli took the porch steps two at a time and let out a breath of relief when he saw Tyler coming across the yard. “Hey,” Eli called to him. “Take these cookies inside and the strawberries to the milk house. Reuben is waiting on me.”

“Cookies? Sure.” Tyler motioned toward the side of the house. “The guys are all over by the windmill.”

Eli headed in that direction. He’d take Ruth’s wagon home later, once the work was done. Nothing would get him back in Martha’s house tonight, or ever again, if he could at all help it. In the distance, he heard male laughter and the sound of hammering. Feeling guilty about the harm he might have done to Ruth’s reputation, he quickened his steps.

* * *

It was almost eleven when Eli approached Ruth’s back porch with the wagon. Only one light was burning up on the second floor, so he tried not to make any more noise than necessary. A few yards from the house stood an old-fashioned, covered well with a winch and bucket and a peaked cedar roof that extended out about three feet. Eli stowed the wagon there. It had clouded up and looked as though it might rain before morning. He didn’t want to leave the wooden wagon where it might get wet.

He was still feeling guilty about the confrontation he’d overheard between Hannah and Martha, so he wasn’t concentrating on where he was going. As he turned to go, he stumbled over a second bucket in the dark. “Ouch!” he cried.

“Clumsy,” came a female voice from the darkness.

He turned and squinted toward the dark house. “Ruth?”

“Did you hurt yourself?” He spotted movement. She was sitting on the porch swing.

“Ne.”
He had slammed his shoulder into the brick wall surrounding the well, but he was too embarrassed to say so. “I thought you’d turned in.”

“Shh. Mam and my sisters are already asleep.”

He went to the porch, resting one foot on the first step, but made no move to join her. “How’s the dog?”

“Jeremiah. I’m going to call him Jeremiah.”

“More name than dog.”

She laughed, and she patted the seat beside her on the swing. “Want to see?”

The dog lay curled in her lap, fast asleep.

Knowing he was probably making a big mistake, Eli crossed the porch and sat on the other end of the porch swing. Though old, it was a nice swing. Well built. He wondered if her father had made it. Roman said Jonas Yoder had been a solid craftsman, well respected by both the Amish and English. “I think I might have caused trouble for your mother tonight.”

“Aunt Martha?”

“How did you guess?”

Ruth gave the swing a push.

“I don’t want to cause trouble for your family.”

“Aunt Martha doesn’t think Mam should have Irwin working for us. She made such a fuss at the bee that Lydia started to cry.”

“So it wasn’t me?”

“My cousin Dorcas did tell Mam that you were working at our stand on Tuesday. Luckily, Miriam and I had already told her.” Ruth’s voice flowed as sweet as honey in the soft darkness of the moist evening air. She held out a towel-wrapped bundle. “I gave him a bath. He smells a lot better.”

Eli took the dog awkwardly. “I don’t think your uncle likes me much, either.”