The Choice (3 page)

Carrie waved to Mattie to join them. “I bet I know why you’re here, Mattie!” she called out, laughing. “But Daniel isn’t here. He and Dad took Eli to the bus stop.”

As Mattie broke into a run to join Carrie and Andy, she won-ebook- dered why Carrie would assume she was interested in the Weavers’ houseguest. Like most of the girls, she had noticed Daniel Miller at the Sunday Singing. And he was handsome, she couldn’t deny.

But Mattie’s heart belonged to one man: Solomon Riehl. She had loved Sol for as long as she remembered. Long before Carrie had even met him.

Mattie would never reveal those feelings, though. She loved Carrie too much. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but she trusted that God had given her this love for Sol. And she knew God was trustworthy.

Near midnight, Carrie quietly tiptoed downstairs, jumping carefully over the squeaky third step because Esther had ears like a hawk. She slipped out the kitchen door and glided into a run as soon as she turned onto the road. When she reached the phone shanty, she jerked the door open and stared at the phone impatiently, willing it to ring.

While she waited, drumming her fingers, her thoughts drifted to the talk she’d had with Mattie tonight. She nearly confided to Mattie about the plans to leave with Sol, but she held her tongue. It wouldn’t have been right to have Mattie keep such a secret. The truth, she realized, was that she didn’t think Mattie would understand. There was something about Mattie that seemed . . . pure. Holy, almost. Like those orchids sold at Central Market. Once the Orchid Lady had told Carrie that she kept the orchids in the greenhouse because they were so delicate. That’s what Mattie seemed like. Too delicate for Carrie to share her tangled thoughts.

The phone rang, startling her out of her muse. She lunged for the receiver and smiled as she heard Sol’s deep voice.

“Did anyone ask where you were this afternoon?” Sol asked.

“No,” Carrie said, still smiling. “Dad and Eli were so excited about purchasing the orchards that it was all anyone was talking about.”

“Surprised me to see Andy with you. Think that was wise?”

“Aw, it was a birthday present for him. He won’t tell.” Carrie was quiet for a moment. “I won’t be here for his actual birthday.” Her heart caught for a moment.

Sol didn’t seem to notice the quiver in her voice. “So we’ll tell our folks Sunday afternoon, just like we talked about. On Monday, I’ll be on the team bus to Long Island, but you can follow on a Greyhound as soon as you can. I thought we could get married in New York, the day you arrive. How does that sound?”

Carrie didn’t answer right away. She glanced back at the big white farmhouse. The moonlight shone behind it, casting a bluish hue over it. The night was so quiet and peaceful; the house and the barn filled with sleeping people and animals. An owl hooted once, then twice.

Her eyes caught on a shadowy figure and she gasped. Daniel Miller was sitting on the fence across from the phone shanty, watching her.

“Carrie?” Sol asked, his voice tight.

She pulled her attention back to the phone. “Daniel’s here.”

“That fellow who’s staying at your house? What does he want?”

“I have no idea.”

Sol snorted. “I have a pretty good idea. He stuck to you like flypaper at last Sunday’s singing.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Sol, he didn’t know anybody else.”

“He knew Emma and he didn’t get anywhere near her.”

Carrie smiled. Sol had a jealous streak. She shouldn’t be pleased, but she couldn’t help it. “Maybe I should find out what he wants.”

“Carrie, you haven’t answered my question. Have you changed your mind?”

She turned away from Daniel’s gaze. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Ich liebe dich,” he said.
I love you.

A blush warmed her face. She’d never said the words before, because it was not the Plain way. But Sol said the words often. He admired how the English expressed themselves openly. “Ich auch,” she whispered.
Me too.

“So tell Daniel Miller to find another girl.”

Carrie waited until she heard the click of Sol hanging up before she put the receiver back in the cradle. She turned slowly and opened the door to the phone shanty.

“Evening.” Daniel’s low voice came as a shock in the whispering stillness of the night.

“I guess I didn’t see you on the way here.” She pulled the collar of her nightgown close around her neck. “Why are you up so late?”

He shrugged. “Too hot to sleep.” He crossed his arms. “You?” She glanced back at the phone shanty. “Business call. For Central Market. They get up early.”

“My, my. That is early,” Daniel said, sounding amused.

She stared at him and he stared back. Then her cheeks started to burn as if she’d been standing too close to a stove. She dropped her eyes and spun around to leave. “Well, goodnight.”

“Wonder what Esther might say about you having a midnight phone call.”

Carrie froze. She did not want Esther to know she was out in the night, on the phone. Once Esther locked on to something, she wouldn’t let go until it thundered. For the first time, she thought that Daniel Miller might just have a thought or two in his quiet head. She pivoted around to face him. “Do you plan to tell her?”

He gave a short laugh. “She reminds me of a bear that treed me once. Not sure I want to be on the wrong side of that woman.” Daniel took a few strides and passed by Carrie. “You got more business calls to make?”

In the moonlight, Daniel looked less stern and tense, a little gentler. She decided that Emma was right, he was a looker. He used more words tonight than he had all week.

“Wait up. I’m coming,” she said, matching his stride.

When the van dropped Carrie and Emma off from work the next day, Daniel and Andy were waiting for them at the gate. Andy’s face was red and puffy from crying.

“Nau, was is letz, Andy?” Carrie asked.
What’s wrong?
Something terrible must have happened; Andy never cried.

“Dad,” he sobbed, gulping for air. “It’s Dad.” He threw himself into Carrie’s arms and buried his face against her.

“Was fehlt ihm?” Carrie’s heart started to pound.
What’s wrong
with him?

Daniel explained that Jacob had been shoeing a horse when it kicked him.

“Someone’s taken him to the hospital, yes?” Carrie asked. Her pulse quickened as her breath came up short.

Daniel shook his head. “He’s on the couch in the kitchen.” He took a step closer to Carrie.

“We must get him to the hospital. He has hemophilia. He’s a bleeder. He needs an infusion of Factor IX.” She stroked Andy’s hair. “Alles ist ganz gut, Andy.”
All will be well.
She looked up at Daniel. “Did you call for an ambulance?”

Daniel glanced up at the house. “Carrie . . .”

Emma gasped as she seemed to understand what Daniel couldn’t say. “Ach, nee! Ach, nee! Er is dot, zwahr? Ach, liebe Mamm!”
Oh, no! Oh, no! He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh, dear Mom!
She ran toward the house.

Carrie heard Emma’s cries, but the words dipped and swirled like barn swallows in her mind. She watched Emma disappear into the house, heard her shout for Esther. Andy had tightened his grip around her waist, his small body wracked with huge, wrenching sobs. She took in the concerned look on Daniel’s face and then the full sense of what Emma said struck her, a panic gripped her chest so tightly that she thought her heart had stopped beating.
No. There must be a mistake.

“He was kicked in the head. It was too late—”

“Du bischt letz,” she told Daniel in a voice that was too calm.
You are wrong.

Daniel rubbed his forehead. After a moment, he lifted his head. “It was too late by the time Esther found him—”

“Esther found him?” Carrie’s hands flew to cup her face. “She didn’t call the ambulance, did she?” She started trembling. “Esther didn’t think he ever needed infusions. She said they cost too much and didn’t believe they were necessary.” She started to gulp for air. “She has the money, you see. This farm, it belongs to her. She never lets him forget that.”

Daniel took a step closer to her.

“And then the last time Dad was hurt,” Carrie continued without stopping to breathe, “she talked him out of having an infusion. It took him months to recover. The blood pooled in his joints and caused him terrible pain. But if his head was ever injured, he would be in serious trouble because the blood would pool in the brain. The doctor said so. I heard him say so. Esther knew that.” She was visibly shaking now. “She
knew
that.”

Carrie looked to Daniel, hoping he would admit that it was a prank, a bad joke. That Jacob was waiting for her and for Andy in the kitchen. But Daniel wore such pain in his eyes that she knew it was real.

My father is dead. He’s dead!
A small startled cry escaped from her throat.

Daniel stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of them—a grief-stricken woman and a sobbing little boy—and held them tight.

2

Jacob Weaver’s body was embalmed by the English undertaker and returned, the next day, to the farmhouse for the viewing. All afternoon, Carrie, Esther, Emma, and Andy received friends and neighbors offering condolences, doing errands of kindness. It was a soaker of a day, gray skies that poured down rain, matching Carrie’s dark, troubled mood.

Carrie was worried about her brother. Andy was silent, never far from her side. She wasn’t sure how to help him. It was one thing to grieve the loss of a parent, but after Esther’s outrageous accusation last night, she wasn’t sure he would ever be himself again. There was no balm for this wound.

It started when Andy had arrived late to supper, having lost track of time. Andy’s absentmindedness was a constant source of irritation to Esther, and last night she told him that Jacob’s death was his fault.

“Your father had told you to come to the barn straight from gathering eggs in the henhouse,” Esther said, pointing a long finger in his direction. “If you had just obeyed your father, instead of getting distracted like you always do, he could be alive today. You
knew
he was a bleeder. Every minute counted.”

Carrie exploded at Esther’s accusation. “Sie ist schunn ab im Kopp! Er ist ein Kind! Mei vadder hett’s net erlaabt! Du settscht dich scheme!”
You are crazy! He is only a child! My father would
not permit such talk! You should be ashamed!
Her fists shook as she screamed, her chin quivered with rage. “You don’t care, Esther! You never did!”

Esther stared into Carrie’s eyes, a standoff, before abruptly turning and leaving the kitchen.

Carrie rushed to put her arms around Andy, crumbled with grief, weeping silently. “Andy, Andy, don’t listen to her. It was Dad’s time. The Lord God decided that, not you. And not Esther, either.” Carrie scooped Andy up on her lap and held him tight against her.

It surprised Carrie to hear those words about God burst out of her mouth, as naturally as if they came from her heart. Triggering a fresh wave of grief, it sounded like something her father would have said.

When Sol arrived with his family to pay respects, he slipped a note to Carrie to meet him in the barn. As soon as he viewed Jacob’s body and shook Esther’s hand, he hurried to the barn to wait for Carrie. He knew she had to wait until an opportune moment; no one was supposed to have any idea they were courting. Funny, he thought, leaning against the horse’s stall, they both tiptoed so carefully around the brittle requirements of the church. In two short days, they would no longer need to worry.