Love Still Stands (20 page)

“I came for you.” What else could he say? He’d come because Jebediah had been crying.
Because he heard his son’s wailing, but not his fraa’s silent cries for help.

“Why didn’t Emma send one of the girls? You have work to do.”

“Bethel would’ve come, but I told her I—”

“On her crutches? What’s wrong with Emma? She could send Rebecca. That girl gets away
with far too much. Emma spoils her.”

“Emma shouldn’t have to send anyone.” He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words
were out there, hanging between them, accusing her. He scrambled to sound more conciliatory.
“She’s putting ointment on Jebediah’s gums and giving him a teething ring. She said
not to worry.”

“No, she didn’t. She sent you to find out what’s wrong with me and bring me back.
Your sister is a bossy one.”

“What
is
wrong? Why are you sitting out here?” He knew, but he wanted her to tell him. He
wanted to know why she hadn’t shared such blessed news with him. He should’ve been
the first to know. He tried to ignore Bethel’s words ringing in his ears.
Pay attention
. “Are you feeling poorly?”

“Nee.”

“What is it?”

“I’m overly tired, what with the teething and the girls having ear infections.”

“Bethel told me…she said…well, she told me you’re…you’re expecting.”

At that, Leah’s head snapped up. Color rushed into her white face. “She had no right.”

“That’s beside the point. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I would’ve. I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t tell me that we’re to have another child? That God has blessed us once
again? I don’t understand you. I’m your husband. You’re my fraa.”

“I couldn’t bear to hear you spew all those words about blessings and babies. I didn’t
want to talk about it. Or think about it.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I’m tired and I’m homesick.”

Tired could be fixed. A good night’s sleep. Homesickness, well, that Luke couldn’t
fix. Only time would make it better. “Go home. Emma will watch the children. Go home
and rest.”

“There’s work to be done.” She put her hand to her mouth. Her throat moved convulsively.
She breathed. “I will, as soon as I’m sure I won’t vomit again.”

“The sickness will pass.” Easy for him to say, but after five children, he knew it
to be a true statement. “So will the homesickness.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but he needed to believe it. For his family’s sake.
His wife had to embrace this new beginning. Soon.

“Go away.”

“Nee.”

She stretched forward and retched on the ground. “Please, go away.”

He found the rocks she’d used to cross the water and went over to her. On the other
side, he approached her with care, wishing he had a handkerchief or a bandana to wipe
her face. “Leah, let me help you back to the buggy.” He touched her heaving shoulders,
brushing back a tendril of hair that lay on her cheek. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Nee. I have work to do.” She coughed and cleared her throat. “So do you.”

“Others will pick up the slack.”

“I don’t slack.” She jerked from his touch and curled into herself, her knees tight
against her chin again. “Go.”

“You need to rest and get better. The babies need you.”

She didn’t answer.

“Leah?”

Nothing.

“I need you.”

“You need a fraa who cleans your house and does the laundry and has babies and takes
care of them.”

Luke had always thought of all these as good things. He thought Leah did too. It was
what women did. Now, the world tilted on its side. Now, in the face of her unrelenting
sadness, he felt a sense of guilt. He had done something wrong. He simply couldn’t
be sure of what. “You act like you…you act like you don’t want another baby.”

Her head came up. Her gaze met his. She looked far older than her years with her pale,
drawn face, reddened eyes, and chapped lips. “I don’t. God forgive me, I don’t.”

Her tone, miserable and filled with defiance tempered by guilt, tore at him. He swallowed
words of anger. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t mean it.

Her face said differently. He read something else there. Fear. She didn’t understand
what was happening to her. Neither did he. But she wouldn’t cling to him, her husband.
Why? “You don’t want another baby, or you don’t want another baby with me?”

She stared at him with those huge, dark eyes that had held him from the first time
he’d noticed her sitting across from him at school in the eighth grade. She’d been
there before, of course, but he’d never noticed those eyes. Enormous eyes that devoured
him, questioning him, even though she didn’t speak to him, not once. She’d been tired
then too. He hadn’t known why until much later.

This time she didn’t hesitate.

“Both.”

Chapter 19

E
lijah followed Silas, Viola Byler, and her father, Menno, across the gravel road,
past the corral, and into an expanse of dirt that was fenced with wire and wood posts.
The pen covered a good half acre. The stench of ammonia hit him first. And then the
noise. The sound of the orangey-red hens’ cackling rose in a steady crescendo mixed
with the answering cacophony of goats bleating. The fowl scattered at their approach
while the goats crowded the fence as if expecting a treat. Elijah inspected them.
He’d never given much thought to raising goats, but the chicken farm was another matter.
Silas had read that organic eggs were popular at farmers’ markets now. Englischers
wanted pasture-fed chickens and cattle. They were buying what Silas called organic
produce and something called free-range cattle. Then he’d talked to Menno Byler at
the school raising and discovered here was a Plain farmer who had firsthand experience
with this so-called organic farming. At Luke’s bidding, Elijah and his brother had
come to investigate. Luke wanted to explore all options for farming that would help
them successfully plant their new district.

It didn’t hurt that Viola Byler was Menno’s daughter. Elijah swept the thought aside,
as he had done on the entire ride to Webster County. Guilt pinched him right between
the eyes. What did he have to feel guilty about? Bethel acted nothing but snippy with
him. She didn’t want his help and he wasn’t getting any younger. He needed a fraa.
He wanted children. And he wasn’t going to wait for an ornery, stubborn woman on crutches
to wake up and get the message that people who loved each other helped each other,
relied on each other, and trusted each other, even when it meant opening themselves
up to the possibility of being weak.

Deep thoughts for a beautiful fall day with such a nice breeze.

And a nasty smell. He coughed and covered his nose and mouth with his hand.

“They stink, don’t they?” Viola crinkled her nose. She had a pretty nose. Everything
about her was pretty.
Pretty is as pretty does
. His mother’s words rang in his head. “But the eggs are very good. We sell to restaurants
and bakeries and at the farmers’ markets. They bring top dollar because we let them
run around.”

The chickens strutted across the dirt, pecking at the ground. One of the larger birds
squawked and flapped its wings as if it might fly away. “How expensive is the start-up?”

“Not too bad.” Menno lifted his hat and scratched his bald head. “Viola is my bookkeeper.
A smart one, this girl.”

“Do you use a calculator?” Elijah raised his eyebrows at her. “Or do you do addition
and subtraction in your head?”

“I’m allowed to use a battery operated calculator, but I’m a schoolteacher.” She took
the challenge in the laughing manner in which it was offered. “I’m quite capable of
doing the sums in my head.”

He chuckled. “Better you than me.”

“Not a good student?”

“He was lazy,” Silas butted in. “He’d rather count the stars than do his multiplication
tables.”

“A dreamer.” Viola’s eyes glowed with laughter. “If I had been your teacher, I would’ve
kept you in line.”

“You’re far too young to have been my teacher.”

Menno scratched his head again, his sun-lined face perplexed. He glanced from his
daughter to Elijah. His whiskered countenance took on a pleased expression. “Y’all
can stay for the noon meal, can’t you? My fraa is frying up some chicken. Mighty fine
eats. Fried potatoes. Gravy. Green beans. Lemon meringue pie.”

It sounded mighty fine.

They started back across the field, Silas deep in conversation with Menno about equipment,
feed costs, feeding schedules, and a litany of other details. Elijah tried to concentrate,
but he found himself acutely aware of the woman who strolled next to him at a proper
distance. She had a firm, easy stride, and she kept up with him without obvious effort
despite being at least a foot shorter. “So you’re the teacher.”

“Jah. I enjoy my scholars very much.”

What he really wanted to know was whether she had a beau. And if not, why not? Smart,
pretty, a hard worker with two jobs.

Or maybe that was why not. Two jobs.

“And you keep the books.”

“I like math too.” She lifted her face to the sun streaming down on them. The air
had the nip of early winter in it and the sun felt good to Elijah. Viola seemed to
enjoy it as well. “I like to bake and sew. I love babies. I help my sisters with theirs—they
have eight now between the three of them. I’m the youngest.”

A Plain woman’s life. Laid out there for him. And it still didn’t answer his question.
“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“Gossip. Vanity. Waste. People who don’t earn their keep.”

“A good list.” He glanced at her father’s back. He was deep into the pros and cons
of certain kinds of feed, his hands gesturing, face a grimace. “I wondered if you…I
wondered why…”

“I like teaching.” She chuckled, a sound like the tinkling of wind chimes. “For now.
I’m certain God has a plan for me. I only have to wait for it to unfold.”

A firm believer. Another good quality in a fraa. “I see.”

She ducked her head. She looked young and sweet and simple. Sniffing with an upturned
nose, she smiled, revealing two distinct dimples. “Smell that?”

He followed her example and sniffed. The smell of chicken droppings had been replaced
by the smell of chicken frying. “I do.”

“I’d better help Mudder put the food on the table.”

“Can we talk later?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

“I just want to prove to you that you aren’t the know-it-all you seem to be.”

She grinned at that, looking even younger than she had a moment before, and slipped
past her dad into the house. Elijah watched her go. She was pretty. And smart.

So why did he look at her and see a woman who would work hard and make life simple
for her husband, but not very interesting.

It seemed that Bethel had something Viola, with her smarts and her beauty and her
pleasing nature, did not.

Elijah feared it might be his heart.

Chapter 20

H
is nose practically touching the glass, Luke studied the sign propped in the display
case inside the window at Doolittle’s Antique Mall and Flea Market. In fancy script,
it advertised a consignment sale and auction for the following week. He peered closer.
It seemed likely Leah had been right when she observed a few months ago that he needed
reading glasses. Now she wouldn’t bother to remark on it. She didn’t remark on anything.
She barely spoke to him at all. He brushed away the thought. One thing at a time.
The auctioneer listed was Bob Doolittle and according to the sign, he was the best
auctioneer in the state. Luke hoped Bob Doolittle also offered his services at a reasonable
rate. If they were back in Bliss Creek, old Jim Carter and his sons would call the
auction for free, each taking a section of the fairgrounds for their own. Luke had
no illusions about the possibility of that happening here in New Hope.

With time, they would come around. He hoped.

He touched the door handle and then stopped. Every muscle in his body wanted to return
to the farm and get back to work. Plunge his hands into dirt. Wield a hammer or a
saw. This being bishop wasn’t his bowl of soup. He’d rather shoe thirty-five horses
in a day than talk to these folks about needing something from them. God didn’t make
mistakes, that Luke knew, but how could choosing Luke to be bishop make sense? The
second the thought bolted through his mind, he breathed a prayer of repentance. God’s
choice. God’s plan. Luke’s obedience.

Still, he stifled a groan. He didn’t want to talk to these folks. He didn’t want to
be responsible for making sure the school had the supplies, books, and furnishings
needed to provide a proper education. He didn’t even put a lot of store in book learning.
Didn’t matter. The lot had been cast. How could he expect Leah to accept it, if he
didn’t himself? He thrust the door open. It banged against the display on the other
side. A bell jangled overhead and half a dozen sets of wind chimes shimmied and tinkled
in a confusing variety of notes. Above all that noise, music with lots of whining
instruments he couldn’t identify played over loudspeakers.