Rachel's Garden (16 page)

“A big hit for such a little girl.” Lovina glanced at Rachel, her usually merry face turning serious for once. “I’d guess that being around other families makes you miss Ezra more sometimes, ja?”

“I guess it does.” Rachel hadn’t thought about it that way, but Lovina had a point. “I don’t begrudge others their happiness, you understand. But Ezra was such a gut father. And husband. I miss that feeling that there’s someone who’s always there to help and support me.”

She’d felt that keenly when she’d heard what Teacher Mary had to say about Becky. The young teacher’s eyes had been filled with concern when she talked about how daring Becky had become—challenging even the older boys to climb higher or run faster at recess. Teacher Mary had been forced to discipline her more than once.

Ezra would have known what to do. Rachel didn’t.

Lovina nodded. “I plain don’t know how I’d deal with my seven if I didn’t have Aaron,” she said, an echo of Rachel’s thoughts.

Somehow it was easier to talk about it with Lovina, who wasn’t family. Rachel’s mamm would listen, but she wanted so much to help that it almost hurt to talk to her.

“It’s hardest when the children worry me.”
Like Becky.
“I think about how it felt to be able to share it all with him.”

“Ja.” Lovina reached over and patted her knee. “But you’re still a young woman, Rachel. Losing Ezra doesn’t mean that you can’t ever have that kind of partnership with a man again.”

Rachel realized she must be healing, since that comment didn’t pain her as much as the implication usually did. “I don’t know. I guess I can’t imagine loving anyone else the way I loved Ezra.”

“Well, of course not.” Lovina’s tone was one of brisk common sense. “I mean, it stands to reason you’re not going to love someone the same way when you’re thirty as you did when you were sixteen.”

“No, but—” It was certain sure that her love for Ezra had changed and deepened over time.

“I figure it’s like loving your children.” Lovina’s gaze followed her oldest girl, chasing a fly ball. “They’re all different, so you love them in different ways, but you don’t love one more than another.”

Rachel wasn’t sure that applied to loving a man, but she did understand what Lovina meant about the children. “It is a challenge, knowing what each of them needs. My three are all so different.”

Her gaze sought them. Mary, safely out in right field, was picking dandelions with Lovina’s youngest. Becky danced off third base, daring Gideon to try to pick her off. And Joseph was at bat, his small face intent and serious.

“Imagine what it’s like with seven.” Lovina chuckled. “Course, we’ve had Gid around a lot of the time. He’s a gut onkel, he is, in spite of having lost his own wife and the boppli. It helps having him here, but I’d sacrifice that gladly to see him married again. ”

Rachel wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was it a hint?

“It’s been a long time since the accident. I’m sure he’s had plenty of chances to marry, if he wanted to.”

Lovina shrugged ample shoulders, as if in agreement. “Has he maybe talked to you about it?”

“No.”

That probably came out too sharp, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her mind had suddenly filled with an image of Ezra talking about Gideon. Explaining why it had been important for him to go off and do something with his friend on one particular day.

Rachel’s cheeks flushed, just thinking about it. Had she been petty, nagging, wanting him to stay home with her?

It’s the anniversary of losing his wife and boppli, Rachel.
In her mind’s eye, Ezra frowned at her in disappointment at her attitude.
I couldn’t leave him alone today. He’ll never talk about it, but he needs a friend right now.

She’d been embarrassed, of course. Apologetic. But she’d still probably harbored a little resentment.

At the memory of her words she cringed. She hadn’t understood, then, the power that grief could wield.

I don’t think he can.
Ezra’s eyes had gone dark with pain for his friend.
I don’t think he ever will.

“Aaron says I’m too eager to manage everyone else’s business.” Lovina’s cheerful voice interrupted Rachel’s thoughts. “And maybe he’s right, but I don’t like to see anyone alone. It’s not what the gut Lord intends for us, to my way of thinking.”

Joseph hit the ball at that moment, saving Rachel the difficulty of answering. The boy just stood looking at it in astonishment until Gideon called to him to run. Then he scrambled toward first base.

The hit was an easy fly ball that Aaron unaccountably failed to catch. That gave Becky the chance to score. Laughing, Aaron declared it was time for a snack, and the game was over.

The players flooded toward the picnic table, where Lovina had put out a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of cookies. Joseph ran to Rachel, his face lit up.

“Mammi, did you see? I hit the ball.”

“I saw.” She gave him a quick hug. “Go and have your lemonade and cookies now. It’ll soon be time for us to head home.”

“Not yet,” he said, dancing with impatience. “Gideon promised to show me Aaron’s goats first.”

She’d like to get started before the sun set, but there was still time. And she couldn’t deprive him of something that was so obviously important to him. “Go along then, but don’t pester Gideon, all right?”

Joseph nodded and ran off.

“Ach, don’t let that fret you.” Lovina grasped the chair arms and shoved herself up. “Gideon is always talking about that
bu
of yours. He’s very fond of Joseph and happy to show him the goats. I’m surprised Aaron’s not going along, too. He’s so pleased with those creatures that he loves the chance to show them off. Komm, let’s have some cookies and lemonade, too.”

Rachel followed Lovina toward the picnic table, wrestling with the thought. Gideon was fond of Joseph, always talking about him, according to Lovina. Well, that was a gut thing, she supposed. A child couldn’t have too much love, and Joseph needed a man to look up to.

She just wasn’t sure that Gideon was the man for the job.

Becky was full of herself over having scored the winning run, and Rachel sat on the picnic bench, listening to it twice over. Mary crawled up on the bench next to her, settling down with a cookie in each hand. In only a moment she was leaning against Rachel’s shoulder.

Rachel patted her. “We’d best think about getting along home.”

“Not yet, Mammi,” Becky protested.

“Soon,” she said, getting off the bench. “You finish your treats, and I’ll go and see if Joseph is finished looking at the goats. Then we must be leaving.”

She crossed toward the fenced area next to the barn. Aaron’s herd of goats was larger than she’d expected. He must be having good luck with the goat cheese he sold at the market.

Gideon and Joseph leaned on the fence watching them, their backs toward her. The goats clustered close to them. Gideon had probably let her son hand-feed them, or they wouldn’t be so eager to be petted.

She drew closer, her sneakers making little sound on the grass. Gideon and Joseph seemed so intent on whatever they were saying to each other that she hated to interrupt them.

“... Becky says it’s silly to have a goat for a pet. She says goats are farm animals, not pets.” Joseph’s voice reached Rachel clearly. “I guess Aaron’s goats aren’t pets, are they?”

“I guess not, but Aaron is a farmer.” Gideon sounded as if he were torn between saying what was true and reassuring her son.

“I’m going to be a farmer, too, when I’m bigger.” Joseph’s profile tilted toward Gideon. “But Dolly—” He stopped.

Gideon put his hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “Dolly is special to you, isn’t she?”

“My daadi gave her to me, for my very own.”

Rachel’s heart twisted. Why hadn’t she seen that? The greenhouse was important because it was Ezra’s gift to her, and Joseph loved that goat for the same reason.

“Well, then, if you’re asking me what I think, I’d say that Becky is wrong.”

“Wrong?” Joseph’s eyes widened, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Not about other things, mind. But about this.”

The boy reached between the rails to scratch the muzzle of a persistent little goat. “But you said Aaron doesn’t think his goats are pets, either.”

Joseph, like the little goat, was persistent. She should intercede, but somehow she wanted to hear how Gideon would answer that.

He hesitated for a moment. “You know, I remember another boy who had a pet most people would think was silly. He was just about your age at the time, too.”

“Who?”

“Your daadi.”

“He did?” Joseph breathed the words. “What was it?”

Rachel’s breath caught. Gideon had said he’d wait for her permission before talking to her children about Ezra as a boy. Now, it appeared he was about to do exactly that.

“A duckling.”

“A duckling?” Joseph blinked. “But that’s silly.”

“Maybe so, but that’s what it was.” Gideon seemed to be looking back through time, and his face softened into a smile that made him look younger. “The little thing hatched out when its mammi wasn’t there. I guess it thought your daadi was a gut substitute. It used to follow him around, quacking.”

“Did folks laugh at him?” There was a world of feeling in Joseph’s words.

“They did. But he never let that bother him, not one little bit. He figured they could think what they wanted to, but that little duck depended on him, and he wouldn’t let it down.”

Joseph seemed to mull that over for a moment, and then he gave a decided nod. “My daadi was right.” He stood a little straighter. “I want to be just like him.”

Tears choked Rachel’s throat and blurred her vision. Gideon had just given her son a gift that she’d been unable, or unwilling, to give. She stifled a sob.

CHAPTER NINE

A
soft sound behind him had Gideon turning. Rachel stood there. She’d obviously been listening, and her blue eyes were bright with tears.

Regret pierced him. He shouldn’t have spoken to Joseph about his father. That was Rachel’s responsibility, and the one time he’d brought it up, she’d evaded the subject. She hadn’t wanted this, and now he’d done it anyway.

Still, even though it was wrong to talk to the boy without his mother’s permission, the idea itself wasn’t wrong. He’d be sorry to face Rachel’s anger about this, and sorrier still that he’d caused her more pain.

But he felt as sure of this as he’d been of anything in his life. All three children needed to have stories of their father to remember, but Joseph needed it most of all, because those stories would help him grow into a man like Ezra.

Rachel came toward them, not looking at him, all her attention on her son. “Here you are, Joseph. Have you seen all of Aaron’s goats already?”

“Ja, Mammi.” Joseph hurried to her, his face lit with excitement. “Aaron has a fine herd, but he doesn’t have any Nubians like Dolly. He said I could come another time with Gideon and learn how he makes the cheese, if you say it’s all right.”

If Rachel objected, she wasn’t letting it show on her face. Her smile for the boy was gentle. “We’ll talk about it,” she said. “But now I need you to run back to the table. Tell your sisters I’ll be there in a moment.”

She waited while the boy hustled across the yard, her face turned away from Gideon so that he saw only the curve of her cheek. He stiffened, preparing himself to bear the brunt of her anger, preparing to tell her—

The child out of earshot, Rachel turned toward him. A single tear glistened on her cheek, and the sight of it wiped away everything he’d thought he’d say to her.

“Don’t, Rachel.” He longed to smooth the tear away, but he didn’t dare. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind so much.”

She dashed the tear away herself with an impatient gesture. “No, I’m the one to be sorry. I didn’t understand.” She took a step toward the fence, grasping the rail with her hands and looking at the goats without, he thought, really seeing them.

He studied what he could see of her averted face. The line of her profile was as sweet and innocent as that of one of the children. She wasn’t angry, it seemed, but he couldn’t be sure just what she was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, figuring that, at least, was safe. “I should not have spoken with Joseph about his father before asking you if it was all right.”

She shook her head, still not looking at him. “I’m glad you didn’t wait.” She swallowed, the muscles of her neck working as if it took an effort. “Joseph came to you with a problem. I might wish he’d come to me instead, but maybe this was for the best. You gave him an answer that will help him much more than whatever I would have said.”

“If you truly feel that, then I’m glad, too.”

Rachel’s eyes glistened with the tears she didn’t want to shed. “You’re a gut man, Gideon Zook. My children and I are fortunate to have you as a friend.”

She was setting the boundary for him, and it was one he should be happy to accept.

He nodded. “Denke, Rachel. It is my pleasure.”

For a moment they stood there, hands close on the fence rail, looking at each other. If Lovina was watching, she probably thought her matchmaking efforts were bearing fruit. She couldn’t know how far from that they were.

He cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go to market again on Saturday?”

“Ja.” She frowned slightly, but then seemed to chase the expression away. “My parents are so happy to have the children for the day that it makes it easy for me to go.”

“Lovina will be pleased to have your company.” He would, as well. He knew without even thinking about it that he’d show up, because it would mean a little extra time with her. And he’d keep talking about it at the moment for the very same reason. “You have many plants ready to take?”

“Ja. I think I will take some of the marigold and snapdragon seedlings, even though it’s early for them. Some folks might want to risk putting them in.”