Authors: Marta Perry
Rachel's Garden (4 page)
He studied her downcast face for a moment. Rachel had always been a pretty girl back when they were in school together, with those big blue eyes and the light brown hair that curled rebelliously out of her braids. She had become thinner since Ezra’s passing, and dealing with loss had given a new maturity to her face.
Why did she dislike the idea of his helping her so much?
He brushed bits of potting soil off the counter’s surface, trying to find a way to bring her to acceptance. It was strange, in a way, that he knew so little of how Rachel’s mind worked, when Ezra had been his lifelong friend. Somehow his relationship with Rachel had always been a tenuous thing. Ezra had been the focal point, and with Ezra gone, he wasn’t sure how to talk to her.
But he had to try.
“You know, it’s more than a year ago now since Ezra showed me the sketch you made of the greenhouse you’d been dreaming about. He said he’d had to sneak it out when you weren’t looking, trying to keep it secret until he was sure we could do it. I used that sketch to work up the plan and figure the materials.”
She looked at him then, her face suddenly soft. “Really? Ezra started planning it that long ago?”
He nodded, glad that he’d been able to bring some pleasure to her. He remembered that day so clearly, hearing the love in Ezra’s voice when he talked about his wife. “He knew we wouldn’t get around to building it for a bit, but he was wonderful happy to find a gift you’d like.”
“He knew how much I love growing things.” Her fingers toyed with a leaf that lay on the counter.
“Ja.” Memory blossomed in his mind. “He told me once that you had such a green thumb that you could put a stick in the ground and it would grow a flower.”
Her eyes were wet suddenly. Maybe his were, too, as Ezra’s words brought him back in the minds of the two who’d loved him.
He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you. I had a lot of time to think about this while I was laid up.”
After the accident. He sensed her withdrawal. Was she shying away because she didn’t want to think about Ezra’s death? Or was it because she blamed him?
If she did, that seemed only fitting, since he blamed himself.
She started to turn away, as if to end the conversation, and he touched her sleeve to halt her. She froze instantly.
“I need to get this said once, and then I’ll never mention it again.” His voice thickened, and he fought to control it. He’d be fortunate to get the words out once, with the pain and guilt riding him constantly. “I couldn’t make any sense out of the fact that the Lord let me live when Ezra died.”
His throat tightened at the thought of the other, older pain that was so similar, hovering over him, darkening his life. With Ezra’s death the darkness might never leave, and then how would he keep going? He pushed the thought back and concentrated on saying what he had to.
“It seems to me the only reason I survived was so I could help Ezra’s family.” Surely she could hear the truth of it in his voice. “And that’s what I plan to do, God willing.”
It had been raining nearly every day since the sale, and the well-trodden paths where the cows approached the barn were a sea of mud. Rachel peered out the kitchen window, streaked with the latest shower. William was working in the barn. She must catch him and give him a cup of coffee when he finished.
She hadn’t seen Gideon since the day of the sale. He’d probably been kept away by the rain. At least that would stop him from doing anything more about the greenhouse.
Just as well. She hadn’t figured out yet how to deal with him. Most of the time, she didn’t even want to try. That moment when they’d seemed to share their grief—that had unsettled her, shifting her perception of him, she supposed.
He grieved for his friend. Somehow she had too easily forgetten that. She’d been so absorbed in her feelings that she hadn’t made room in her heart to remember that he suffered, too.
The barn door moved, and William came out. Thankful to be distracted from the difficult thoughts, she hurried to the back door and waved at him.
“Komm out of the wet and have something hot already,” she called.
He hesitated a moment, then nodded and started across the expanse of wet grass that seemed to be greening more and more by the day, maybe even the hour.
By the time William had removed his boots and reached the kitchen, she had a mug of coffee poured for him and had set a plate of cinnamon rolls within reach.
“Sit down. What are you working on so hard out there?”
William sat and took a gulp of the steaming coffee, then grabbed the largest of the cinnamon rolls.
She smiled. At eighteen, William was still growing.
“B-b-broken b-b-board,” he said briefly. He always found the shortest way of answering any question, having learned the hard way that most people didn’t like waiting around for an answer.
“That’s kind of you,” she said. “I didn’t even realize anything was broken. I guess I haven’t been out there in several days.” She spoke casually, busying herself with the coffeepot. Given a little time and acceptance, William’s stammer improved remarkably. “You’ve been taking care of things so well that I haven’t had to.”
He nodded, taking a huge bite of the roll and speaking around it. “Okay n-n-now.”
He was relaxing already, she could see. Filling her own mug, she sat down opposite him. If only there was a way to make it easier for him to communicate. He suffered so, locked out of the easy talk that should flow between him and his friends.
“I w-w-anted to d-do the greenhouse for you.” He blurted the words out, his hand tightening on his mug.
“I know you did, William.” She hurried to assure him. “It’s all right. I understand that your work for Isaac has to come first.”
“Not just that. We should d-d-do it, not Gid.” He frowned, his mouth setting in a firm line.
William took his responsibilities seriously—too seriously, maybe. He was still a boy who should be enjoying his rumspringa, his running-around time, instead of trying to take care of her.
“I know what you feel,” she said carefully, not wanting to make it seem that she was angry with Gideon. “I didn’t want Gideon to do it either, at first. But he was Ezra’s good friend. It’s only natural that he wants to keep his promise.”
A red flush ran up William’s face to the roots of his straw-colored hair. He clutched the edge of the table. “It’s not r-r-right. That he lived when Ezra d-d-died.”
The words caught her on the raw, and it was a moment before she could respond. “Du muscht schtobbe. You must stop thinking that. If we want God to forgive us, we must forgive others.”
She patted his hand, taut on the table’s edge. It was big and rawboned, the wrist protruding a little from his shirt—the hand of a boy still growing into a man.
William shouldn’t be angry that Gideon survived when Ezra died. That was wrong. And yet, didn’t she sometimes feel that herself, despite all her prayers to forgive?
She wasn’t alone in feeling it. Gideon himself felt it, judging by his words to her.
“I sh-should help you.”
“You do.” She was comforting him as she’d comfort one of the children. “You help every day, me and the children.”
“I’m g-g-glad to.” He flushed a little, his gaze almost too intense for comfort.
Maybe it was time to change the subject. “Speaking of the kinder, is Joseph still out in the barn?”
Becky would rather stay in and read when it was raining, but Joseph had hurried out as soon as he spotted William coming.
He nodded, his face breaking into a grin. “W-w-wants me to make a b-bed for the goat.”
She shook her head, smiling in return. “He treats that goat better than he does his little sister. What Ezra would think about that, I don’t know. He never believed in making a pet out of a farm animal.” Her smile faded. “Still, Joseph seems to get comfort out of it. I don’t have the heart to discourage him.”
They were silent for a moment, and she knew they were both thinking of what Joseph had lost.
“I’ll d-do it.”
“You’re a gut onkel,” she said, her voice filling with affection for him. “I don’t know how we’d get along without you.”
William flushed again. “I been thinking about th-that. You n-n-need someone to take c-c-care of you.” He seemed to be growing nervous, the stammer increasing.
“The family already does that.”
“N-not enough.” He leaned toward her, his face suddenly filled with intensity. “R-Rachel, will you marry me?” He said the words as formally as if in worship.
For a moment she thought she’d misunderstood him, but a look at his face told her he was serious. The boy actually felt so strongly about taking care of them that he’d propose marriage to a woman old enough to be ... well, not his mother, but certainly his big sister.
She didn’t know what to say Whatever it was, she couldn’t let him think she was laughing at him. He was so young, so vulnerable already because of his stammer.
Please, Lord, give me the right words to do this without hurting him.
“William, that’s so kind of you.” She infused the words with caring for the little brother Ezra had loved. “I know you want to help us, but that’s not the way.”
His lips trembled, and he pressed them together for a moment. “You’re s-s-saying no.”
It was kinder, surely, to make this clear. “I’m saying no. You’re my bruder, William. That’s how I’ve always seen you, and you’re very dear to me.”
He was only doing this for Ezra’s sake, she was sure. But still, he would be hurt by the rejection.
“D-dumb idea.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he knuckled them away like a child would.
“Not dumb. Just very kind.” She smiled at him. “I’m too old for you, William, and that’s the truth. I can’t take you away from the sweet girl God has planned for you.”
“N-nobody w-w-would have m-m-me.” He turned away, face sulky, his ears red with embarrassment.
“Someone will love you for the gut person you are. I promise.” She patted his hand. She felt about a hundred and two in comparison to him, and in a moment she’d start to laugh hysterically. “Why don’t you go on out and give Joseph a hand before he tears down Dolly’s pen?”
He jerked a nod, shoved himself to his feet, and rushed out the back door, letting it slam behind him.
She could laugh now, but somehow the impulse had left. Poor William, thinking he could make up for Ezra’s death that way. Thinking that marriage to him would solve her problems.
Bless him, dear Lord. He has such a gut heart. Surely You have a girl in mind who will love him for that and will set him free to love her, too.
Rachel
drove her buggy down the road that led to Daniel and Leah’s farm a few days later. Brownie, her mare, could probably take her there and back home again without any guidance, they’d made the trip so often.
drove her buggy down the road that led to Daniel and Leah’s farm a few days later. Brownie, her mare, could probably take her there and back home again without any guidance, they’d made the trip so often.
Letting the lines lie slack in her hands, Rachel glanced down at the boxful of baby things at her feet. She’d had a gut clearing out and packed up things that Leah might need for her little one. Smiling and sometimes tearing up a bit while she did it, for sure. It seemed incredible that lively Mary had ever been small enough to fit in those clothes.
She tilted her face up so that the sun’s warm rays reached beneath the brim of the black bonnet she wore for traveling. Her daffodils grew so fast now that it seemed she could almost see them moving, and even the green spikes of the tulips stood taller each day. Spring was nearly here, and with its coming her spirits lifted.
At worship yesterday it had felt as if everyone seated on the backless benches in the Millers’ barn had shared her feelings. Except, possibly, for William.
Her fingers tightened on the lines, and Brownie glanced back over her shoulder, as if to ask what was wrong. Brownie couldn’t offer her any advice about the boy, but Leah could. And that was another reason for coming here today.
Brownie turned in at the lane, and in a few minutes the mare stopped at the back porch, lowering her head immediately to snatch a mouthful of grass. Leah, not even bothering with a shawl, came to the door, smiling.
“Wilkom, komm in. I’m wonderful-glad to see you today.”
Rachel slid down and pulled the box of baby clothes out. “You’ll be even happier when you see what I’ve brought. Mary’s outgrown things for the boppli.”
“Ach, how kind of you. It’ll be another six weeks before I’m needing them, if the doctor is right.” She held the door to let Rachel into the spotless kitchen. “And where is Mary? You didn’t bring her with you?”
“Her grossmutter wanted to spend time with her this morning.” She set the box on the table and gave Leah a hug. “That was gut, because I wanted to spend some time with you. And it’s never too soon to get the swaddling clothes ready. Your little boppli might surprise you by coming early.”
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