At Home in Pleasant Valley (48 page)

He backed away from that unwelcome thought. Anna had plenty of
family to assist her through this difficult time, to say nothing of Bishop Mose and the rest of the community.

Elias Beiler had come to the house last night with Joseph, not that Samuel had been spying on his neighbors. He'd been in the midst of scraping tractor-patterned wallpaper off the walls of the bedroom that faced Joseph's place, and the windows had given him a clear view.

He'd just been thinking it was a bit of a shame he'd had to get rid of those tractors, put up by the elderly couple who'd sold him the house. They'd wanted to make the room special when their grandsons came to stay. He'd glanced out the window and seen Joseph's buggy pull up the lane, and recognized Elias sitting next to him.

So that was all right. If the head of the family accepted Anna and her babe, the rest would as well.

For some reason, the thought of Anna was like a splinter under his skin. He couldn't forget how she'd looked yesterday—drained and exhausted, with all that sassy cheerfulness wiped off her face.

He knew from his own experience that people didn't find it easy to shed the outside world. Anna had been gone three years. She'd had a child. That was very different from the usual young Amish male taking off for a few months or a year, with the thought always in the back of his mind that he'd come home when he was ready to be baptized, join the church, and marry an Amish girl.

Anna's experience was not like that, and more different still from his own.

Turning as he gave the command to walk, he saw her. He hadn't heard her come out, but Anna stood by the fence, the little girl in her arms. She was obviously talking to the child about the horse—something maybe little Grace hadn't seen in her young life.

He let the gelding walk for another moment or so, gradually drawing in the line so that the circle grew smaller. Finally he stopped him, rubbing his neck and murmuring words of praise in his ear. The bay pricked his ear to listen.

He turned. Anna was still there. Leading the horse, he walked over to her.

“Anna.” He nodded. “Do you think the boppli would like to see the horse up close?”

“What do you think, Gracie?” Her voice was soft with love when she spoke to the child. “Look at the horsey. Do you want to touch him?”

Gracie babbled something that might have been approval, and he moved the horse a bit closer to the fence so that her small hand could touch its mane. The bay gave a little shiver of the skin, as if he'd been brushed by a butterfly.

“You look better today. Not so tired,” he added quickly, thinking Anna might take offense at the comment sounding so personal.

She did stare at him for a second, but then she smiled, a little quirk of the lips that wasn't very convincing. “I did sleep well last night. And Gracie slept soundly in her borrowed crib, didn't you, love?”

She tickled the baby, and when Gracie chortled, Anna's face lit with pleasure, too. For a moment he seemed to see the girl she had been—always alive with emotion, ready to plunge headlong into anything.

“I'd think you could take it easy for a few days, now that you've got through the hard part of telling the folks you're here.”

Her gaze evaded his. “I made peace with Daad, if that's what you mean. I haven't seen any of the others yet, except Joseph and Myra.”

“As long as you're settled with your daad, they'll all fall in line. You'll see.”

She lifted her brows, blue eyes sparking a bit. “Is that the voice of experience speaking?”

“I guess it is.” Maybe it was as well to change the subject before she got riled. “Was Joseph all right with where I put the car?”

She nodded. “You know how he is about machinery. He'll probably be taking it apart before long, just to see if he can figure out what's wrong.”

“Ja, that's for sure. Joseph never met a machine he didn't like.”

“I see you're still as attached to horses as you used to be.” She patted the gelding's neck. “I thought you said you were working with Joseph in the shop.”

“I am. The horses are just a little sideline. Somehow folks got the
idea that I have a gift with unruly beasts. So they bring all their troublesome ones to me.”

“You always had that talent. You helped my daad with that mare that tried to kick the buggy to pieces, and you were probably only about fourteen at the time.”

He grinned, surprised she remembered. That day was still clear in his own thoughts, because it was the day he'd recognized his gift.

He'd been over at the Beiler place for some reason, had seen Elias putting the new horse between the shafts, Anna watching him. No sooner had Elias turned his head than the silly beast went crazy, rearing and kicking so fierce no one could get near him.

He hadn't stopped to think, just grabbed the horse's head and held on, talking softly all the time. He'd gotten a few bruised ribs for his trouble, but he'd calmed the animal down. He could still see Anna's shocked, scared face.

“I think that was the day I figured out soft words worked on horses, especially when they're trouble.”

“This one doesn't look like trouble. He's a beauty.” She rubbed the gelding's face, and he blew gently at her hand, accepting the praise.

“He's okay. This one I picked up for myself, off the harness track. He's a bit flighty, but he'll settle down in time.”

There might have been a touch of pridefulness in the words, he warned himself. If he was gut with horses, it was because the Lord had given the gift, and no praise to himself for it.

The baby, maybe feeling left out, waved her hand at the horse, who jerked his head back, startled.

“There, now, silly beast.” He spoke in the animal's ear. “You don't need to be afraid of a beautiful little girl like Gracie.”

Anna caught the baby's hand, holding it still in hers. “Denke, Samuel. Of course I think she's beautiful, but I still like to hear other people say it.”

“You're a proud mamm, is all. You're fortunate to have her, even if . . .” He let that trail off, since there was no gut way that he could see for that sentence to end.

“Even if I don't have a husband?” She said the words quietly, but her
lips had tensed. “Husband or not, I am fortunate to have her, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.”

It didn't come easy to him to talk about it, but he couldn't leave it at that, or Anna would think he was passing judgment on her.

“I should have just said that you're fortunate to have her, Anna. I don't know that I'll ever . . .”

He stopped, wanting to bite his tongue. That slip proved that he was better off as he was—deliberate in thought, slow to speak—because anything else got him in trouble.

“Don't you want to have a family?” Anna, of course, was on it in a second.

“Ja, sure I do.” He turned to the horse, using that as an excuse not to meet her gaze. “I didn't mean anything else.”

Anna was curious—he could feel it flowing from her. A few years ago, if she had been curious, she'd have fired questions until she got the answers she wanted. Now, it seemed, she'd gained a little control over her tongue.

He had to be grateful for that, because he wasn't going to show his feelings, not to her or to anyone else. It was enough that he knew for himself what his limitations were. He'd never take on anything that he couldn't be sure of carrying through. And marriage—how could he chance that? How could he know he wouldn't turn out just like his father?

A
nna's
stomach churned so badly that it would be a wonder if she could swallow a thing at the family picnic they were headed toward the next day. It didn't help that Joseph had suggested she and the baby ride with Samuel, since the larger buggy Joseph envisioned for his growing family was yet to be built.

Samuel's buggy rolled down the road at a steady rate, and thank goodness he didn't seem inclined to chat. She alternated between feeling that the buggy was getting her there before she was ready and thinking how slow it was in comparison to a car.

At least the horse wouldn't break down. She gave a fleeting thought to her own car, still safely hidden in the back of Joseph's barn. He hadn't mentioned it, and she wouldn't.

As for Daadi, he hadn't questioned how his erring daughter had gotten back to the fold. He'd just been happy to welcome her home.

Would the rest of them act as generously? She had no idea.

She glanced at Samuel, his big hands steady on the lines, and looked away as quickly. It seemed that as Joseph's partner and Myra's brother, Samuel was automatically included in family events. She'd feel a bit less stressed about this meeting if he weren't there looking on.

Or maybe she wouldn't. Maybe there was nothing that would lower her tension except getting this over with.

She cradled Gracie in her arms. The baby had been lulled to sleep by the movement of the buggy within minutes of starting the trip.

Samuel tilted his head to smile at Gracie. “Sarah always used to fall asleep like that in the buggy. I guess little ones like the rocking.”

“I just hope Gracie doesn't wake up cross. She has a lot of relatives
to meet. I want her to make a good impression.” She touched a small, relaxed hand with her fingertip.

“Cranky? Myra says she's the best behaved boppli she's seen, including her own.”

So he and Myra had been talking about Gracie, and, by extension, about her probably. Her cheeks warmed. She'd better get used to that. Her return would be the source of plenty of gossip in the valley, just as her leaving had been.

Then she'd just gone away, slamming the door on Pleasant Valley and its opinions. Now she had to find a way to bear the results of her actions.

“You should have been around when she was teething.” It took an effort to sound relaxed. “We were both up most of the night, and me struggling to stay awake at work the next day.”

“You had a hard time of it.” He said it matter-of-factly, but she thought she caught an undertone of pity in his deep voice.

She shrugged, the sense of his pity making her want to squirm. But she wouldn't let him know that. “Not worse than a lot of other people, I guess.”

She'd made her choices. She would live with the consequences.

The buggy slowed as Samuel followed Joseph into the lane at the farm. Now memories crowded in upon her, whispering relentlessly in her ear. There was the apple tree and the little seat hanging from a low branch that Daadi had fixed for her. Levi and Barbara's children probably used it these days.

Her gaze went to the window of her bedroom on the second floor of the neat white farmhouse. Who slept there now?

She'd been lucky, her brothers had always said, getting a room of her own. But Mamm had declared that with ten years between her and Leah, they shouldn't have to share.

Her stomach tightened even more at the thought of her sister. What was Leah thinking about her return? Anna hadn't been kind to her that last summer, yet Leah had been the only one who'd seemed to understand. Even when Anna lay in the hospital, to blame for the accident that had put her there, Leah had been by her side.

Anna cleared her throat. “How are they— What is everyone saying about my coming back, do you know?”

Samuel's broad shoulders moved slightly, as if he started to shrug but thought better of it. “There hasn't been much time for me to hear anything, now has there?”

“That sounds pretty evasive. You may as well tell me, whatever it is.”

“Your brother Mahlon's eager to see you,” he offered, as if that might make up for something. “You know he and Esther Miller married, don't you?”

“Ja.” Thanks to Myra, she did. That had happened after she'd lost touch with Leah.

Not lost touch
. The voice of her conscience was stern.
You broke off contact, because you didn't want to tell her what was going on in your life. Be honest with yourself, at least.

“What about Levi?”

Her oldest brother had taken over the farm when it got to be too much for Daadi after Mamm's first bout with cancer. Levi was close to Daad—would that make his attitude toward her better or worse?

Now Samuel did shrug. “I haven't talked to him. No point crossing bridges before you get to them, is there?”

“This bridge is only a few feet away,” she said. “If you've heard he's angry with me, I'd rather know.”

“I see you still want to have all the answers, Anna. Just like you did when you were little.” His lips curved slightly.

“Actually, I thought I had all the answers, as I recall.” She'd been so sure of herself once.

Samuel gave a small sound that might have been a chuckle. “Ja, I thought I knew a bit about life before I jumped the fence. It didn't take long out there to show me how dumb that was.”

“I know the feeling.” She made the admission before she stopped to think that she didn't want to confide in Samuel. Or anyone else, if she could help it. “But about Levi—”

“You're as persistent as a horsefly, Anna. I don't know, but surely Levi and Barbara wouldn't be having everyone here to greet you if
they were mad at you, ain't so?” Samuel's reasonable tone began to sound a bit strained.

“They would if Daadi wanted it.” They'd respect his judgment outwardly, even if they disagreed. “Let me guess. It's Barbara, isn't it? She never liked me.”

Samuel glanced at her face. “You didn't give her a lot of reason to like you, now did you?”

“Maybe not.”

She'd been a rebellious teenager then. Barbara had been only too ready to give advice, and she'd been just as ready to resent it. Just as she resented the fact that Samuel seemed able to see right through her.

“Leave it,” Samuel said, his voice gentling. “We're here. Everyone will get used to having you back. Things will be just like they were before.”

He pulled up to the hitching rail, and the buggy stopped.

Samuel was right. They were here, and it was time to stop worrying and face everyone.

But he was wrong, too. Because things would never go back to being the same. They couldn't.

Samuel dropped to the ground before she could move. He took her arm in support as she stepped down, Gracie in her arms.

“It will be all right,” he said, his hand warm and strong against her sleeve. “You'll see. They're your family. You can trust them, if you can trust anyone in this world.”

Before she could respond to his unexpected support, she was swamped by a crowd of young nieces and nephews, all clamoring to see their new cousin. Head spinning, Anna tried to sort them all out. The children, at least, were glad to see them.

“Ach, what a noisy bunch of kinder.” Daadi waded through the flock of grandchildren. “The boppli is sleeping. Can you not see that?”

But even as he spoke, Gracie stirred, lashes fluttering, and opened her eyes. She looked around wonderingly. With her cheeks rosy from sleep and her blond hair curling damply against her neck, she looked like a baby doll.

“She's near as pretty as my baby sister.”

It took a moment for Anna to count up ages and realize that this tall young girl was Elizabeth, Leah's stepdaughter.

“Elizabeth, you're nearly a grown-up woman now, aren't you?”

Elizabeth's naturally serious expression relaxed in a smile. “I was eleven my last birthday, Aunt Anna. Can I carry Gracie? I help my mammi with Rachel all the time.”

At a slight nod from Daad, Anna passed Gracie over. “She might be a little cross,” she warned. “She just woke up.”

But Gracie seemed entranced with her big cousin. She caught hold of the string of Elizabeth's prayer cap, and the girl grinned. “That's just what Rachel used to do when I held her. She's two now, so she doesn't like to be held so much, you know.”

“Come along,” Daad said. “No need to stand here when there's folks waiting to greet you.”

Anna took a breath and hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt. “I guess not.”

They started toward the house, Elizabeth bearing the baby proudly. Her younger brother had Myra's Sarah by the hand, chattering away to her, and Levi's two boys were already racing each other to the porch, their little sister trotting after them.

The porch, and the waiting cluster of people. For a moment no one else moved. Anna's eyes seemed to see them as an outsider would, as a group of solemn, archaically dressed strangers. Then one figure started toward them, running a few steps, and Leah threw her arms around her.

“Anna. You're home at last.” Leah pressed her cheek against Anna's, and Anna wasn't sure whether the tears came from her or her sister.

“Ja, I am.” But even as she said the words, guilt pricked at her. Home? It was home, but not in the sense that Leah meant. Leah thought she was here to stay.

She'd given this life up three years ago. She belonged to the outside world now. This place was only a refuge, until she felt it was safe to leave.

Leah drew back, studying her face, her green eyes intent and serious. In spite of all the times they'd quarreled, Leah had been the one to
understand her the most. She'd even understood why, after the accident, Anna had had to leave.

For an instant, panic edged through her. It was as if Leah looked right into her and saw all that she was trying to hide.

Anna turned away, hoping she'd done it quickly enough to mask her feelings, and returned her brother Mahlon's warm hug. She stood back, gazing up at him. “You can't still be growing, can you? You seem bigger to me.”

“That's my Esther's fine cooking,” he said, his ruddy face flushing with pleasure. He reached out and drew his bride to him. “You remember Esther, ja?”

“That I do.” She hesitated a moment, not sure how to greet the girl who'd married her brother a year ago last November in a wedding she'd missed.

But Esther seemed to have no qualms about following her husband's lead. She pressed her cheek against Anna's. “Wilkom, Anna. Wilkom home.”

Over her shoulder, Anna saw Leah picking Gracie up, holding her in a close embrace. Something that had been tense inside her seemed to ease. It was going to be all right, wasn't it?

Barbara marched off the porch, managing not to look at Anna. She clapped her hands. “The food is ready. Komm, we must eat while it is hot.”

A moment of silence followed, and then came Daadi's voice. “We will all greet Anna first. Then it will be time enough to eat.” He fixed Barbara with a firm stare.

A flush mottled Barbara's round cheeks. “Ja, ja,” she said quickly. “I didn't mean anything else.”

But she had. And maybe, despite the hugs and the welcomes, there were others who weren't best pleased to see Anna again.

•   •   •

By
the time supper was over, Samuel realized he'd started to relax. Funny, that he hadn't recognized how tense he felt. Not for himself. For Anna.

They sat around the picnic table, all the adults. The children had gone off to play, the older ones watching the younger, except for Gracie, who sat on Anna's lap, chewing contentedly on a wooden rattle Leah had given her.

So things were all right between Anna and her older sister? He wasn't sure. On the surface, Leah had welcomed her warmly, but an outside observer like he was could see the awkwardness that still lay between them.

“More pie, Samuel?” Barbara held a slice of apple crumb pie out temptingly, but he shook his head.

“It's wonderful gut, but I couldn't find a place to put it. Give it to your husband, won't you?”

“Ach, Levi will be having it for a bedtime snack, like as not.” She moved around the table, but getting no takers for the pie, she slid back into her seat next to Levi. And fixed her gaze on Anna.

As if aware of that stare, Anna moved slightly. She was feeling uncomfortable, that was certain-sure. He remembered that feeling from his own return, even though the circumstances had been different. It was a sense of being caught between two worlds and belonging to neither.

She'd get over it. Even now she was joining in the easy talk from time to time. With the baby to consider, she had every reason to sink back into the life she'd left with no second thoughts.

Unlike him. She'd come back, he supposed, because she wanted to raise her child here. He'd come back because he had to.

That was the difference between them. He'd never know, not for certain-sure, whether his commitment was solid. Or whether, like his father, he had it in him to let everyone down.

“So, Anna.” Barbara broke into a conversation about the right time for harvesting the pumpkins. “Why didn't you marry the boppli's father?”

Silence fell around the table, broken only by an indrawn breath or two. Barbara had the reputation of saying things other people didn't dare, but this time she'd outdone herself.

Anna had paled. A ridiculous longing to protect her swept through Samuel. She wouldn't want to answer a question like that here, in front of everyone. But wouldn't it be better to get it out, once and for all?

Please, Lord . . .

“Barbara, I thought better of you than to ask that. Anna's reasons are between her and God. The bishop will speak to her about it, not you.”

Elias's voice was as severe as he'd ever heard it. Even Levi, who usually went along with his brash wife, seemed to shrink away from her.