Anna's Return (8 page)

“I’m afraid I just wanted to get out of the work, period.” Her thoughts had always been drifting off far from the farm, as she recalled.

“It’s different now that the work is for my own family,” Myra said. “I like to see the jars all lined up on their shelves and know that we’ll be eating well all winter. And you, too. Your Gracie loves fruit as much as my Sarah does.”

Myra’s calm assumption that they’d be here for the winter to eat the peaches shook Anna, and it took a moment to reply. “She does enjoy her food.”

Gracie seemed to have blossomed in the time they’d been here, her cheeks rounding, her chubby little legs getting sturdier. Maybe she was just thriving on all the attention she was getting and from being encouraged to try new things by her two-years-older cousin.

Where would she and Gracie be, come winter? She didn’t know. Not here. By then Pete would have lost interest, or else he’d be back in jail.

She couldn’t go back to living Amish, not after having been in the world for so long. Not after being free to make decisions for herself.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Again, Myra seemed to respond to her thoughts. “It’s gut to have another woman in the house.”

“You’re nice to say that, but I’m sure you’d rather be alone with Joseph and your little Sarah.”

She glanced out the window over the sink. The shop was clearly visible, and even now she could see Samuel’s tall figure move past the open door.

She’d talked to Samuel at meals, of course, in the two days since she’d accused him of nosiness, but she’d been careful not to venture near the shop while he was there working. She didn’t want another private conversation with him, maybe because her conscience was telling her that she owed him an apology. He’d been trying to help, and she had slapped the offer away as if it were an insult.

“With my mamm gone and my sister living clear out in Indiana, I’ve missed having a woman around to talk to, and that’s the truth,” Myra said. “Especially now.” She rested her palm on the small bump under her apron, smoothing it protectively.

Anna had seen Jannie do the same thing, time after time. Unease shivered along her nerves as she thought of that trip Myra had made to the clinic the day she’d arrived.

“Myra, is something wrong?” The question was out before she could tell herself it was intrusive—as intrusive as Samuel’s offer of advice.

Myra set down the jar she’d been wiping and stared at it for a long moment. “The doctor is concerned about the baby.”

The words cut straight to Anna’s heart. “Myra, I’m so sorry.” She fought to keep her voice level. “You must be worried. What does the doctor say?”

“Just that I must have more tests. That the tests will show if the baby has problems.” She pressed her hands against the edge of the sink, as if she needed to hang on to something, and then she turned a fear-filled gaze on Anna. “I try to have faith that it will be as God wills, but I . . . Oh, Anna, what if something is wrong with the boppli? What if I am not strong enough to handle it?”

Anna’s throat was too tight to answer, her mind a jumble of images in which Jannie and Myra seemed to mix. She wrapped her arms around Myra. Myra clung to her tightly, her tear-wet cheek pressed against Anna’s shoulder.

“It will be all right,” she said, her voice soothing once she could speak. “It will.”

But what if it wasn’t? Things didn’t always turn out for the best. Anna knew that only too well. How could sweet, sensitive Myra handle it if her baby had a serious medical problem?

Myra pulled back, grabbing a dish towel to blot her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t act so weak. It’s just that sometimes I feel I must let it out, and I can’t cry in front of Joseph. He doesn’t know what to do when I cry, and it upsets him so.”

Anna patted her arm. “You can cry in front of me anytime you want.”

For as long as I am here
. The words clung in her mind like a bramble caught on her skin.

“I wondered . . . I wanted to ask you . . .” Whatever it was, Myra seemed to have trouble getting the words out. She stopped, took a deep breath. “Anna, would you go with me when I have the tests? I don’t want to keep taking Joseph away from the shop, and besides, it just makes him worry more. I’d go by myself, but I guess I’m just not brave enough.”

“Of course I will go with you.” What else could Anna say?

She was digging herself deeper and deeper into life here with every word, every deed. Caring too much. Letting people count on her. But she didn’t seem to have any other choice.

 

 

Samuel
had put in a busy day in the machine shop until late afternoon, when Joseph had chased him out, saying he knew full well that what Samuel really wanted to be doing was taking a look at Mr. Bartlett’s horse.

They both knew that was true. So here he was, leaning on the fence of the training ring next to the lane and enjoying the slant of late afternoon sunshine, watching the animal.

Just watching. According to Bartlett, who’d driven the truck and horse trailer over early in the morning, the gelding was Star’s Midnight Dream, but his barn name was simply Star, for the small white patch on his forehead. Otherwise he was a sleek, glossy black, well-fed, and shining animal, but with a nervous toss of the head and a leery roll of the eye that would make any horseman immediately wary.

So for today, Samuel was just watching.

Watching the horse, ja, but very aware of Anna, who’d just come out of the house with the baby on her hip. She seemed to bring little Gracie out every afternoon at this time, probably when the child got up from her nap.

Also part of Anna’s routine, at least for the past few days, was ignoring him. Since the day she felt he’d spoken out of turn, that was.

Well, maybe he’d been wrong to speak. But he’d been in her place himself, teetering precariously on the fence between Amish and English, and when he saw someone else there, he couldn’t help but reach out a hand. Speaking so to Anna had taken him beyond what was comfortable for him, but he’d done it. She hadn’t been grateful.

The animal’s ears flicked back, as if he heard something, and he rolled his eyes toward the house. Samuel took a quick glance over his shoulder. Anna and Gracie were coming toward him.

“Anna. And little Gracie.” He held out his hand to the baby as he would to a wary animal.

There was nothing wary about Gracie. She’d obviously gotten used to seeing him, maybe connecting him in her mind with the horses she loved to watch. She grabbed his fingers, clutching tightly and grinning, showing off her two bottom teeth. She babbled something that might have been a greeting.

“Ach, I’m such a dummy that I don’t understand. Is she speaking English or Pennsylvania Dutch?”

“It’s getting hard to tell. Maybe she’s already bilingual.” There was a little strain in Anna’s manner, but her words were friendly enough. “She and Sarah chatter away to each other, and they seem to know what they’re saying, if no one else does.”

“Sure they do. Just like the horses make their thoughts known, even if we don’t understand them much of the time.”

“I see you have a new addition.” She nodded to the gelding, who threw up his head as if he knew she was talking about him.

“Ja, this is the horse belonging to Mr. Bartlett. Star, his name is, but I’m thinking Trouble would be more accurate.”

“That’s why Bartlett picked you. He thinks you can do what he can’t.”

“I’m not sure Mr. Bartlett would say that he can’t.” He couldn’t stop a smile. “It’s only that he doesn’t have time, you see.”

“I see. Aren’t you going to start working with him today?” Her eyebrows lifted a little, so maybe that was a criticism.

“Are you still on English time, Anna Beiler? Still rushing to do things by the clock?”

“No.” She looked a bit nettled. “I just thought, from what Joseph was saying about it, that this was a chance to take a step that could mean success for you.”

“Success?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. She’d moved in the world’s direction, for sure.

“Well, you know what I mean. If you’re as good a horse trainer as Joseph says, maybe that’s what you ought to be doing.”

“What I’m doing is working in the machine shop with Joseph,” he said flatly. “That is what I do, and I’m content.”

Even as he said the word, he wondered. Was he content? He’d made his decision, and he’d abide by it. But whether it had been made with the heart or the head, he still wasn’t sure.

Star, taking exception to a barn swallow that swooped low over the fence, tossed his head and trotted to the far end of the field, where he pawed at the ground a few times before dropping his head to the grass.

Anna watched him. “You’ll have your hands full with this one, I think.”

“Ja, you’re right about that.” He tickled Gracie’s chin. “Gracie won’t be petting Star for a while, that’s certain-sure.” He glanced from the baby’s face to her mother’s. “Are things going all right for you, Anna?”

“Fine,” she said, clipping off the word. “Don’t I look all right?”

“You’re looking more Amish every day.” He leaned back against the fence to study her. “I could say you still look a little nervous, but if I did, you might bite my head off.”

Her lips pressed together for an instant. “Again, you mean. I should apologize for what I said the other day. I was rude. I know you were just trying to help.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“You’re kind to say so.” She disentangled Gracie’s fingers from her kapp strings, patting the chubby hand. “Maybe I am a little nervous. Bishop Mose is coming by to talk to me tonight.”

So. Anna would face the bishop, and it bothered her. “Well, that’s not so bad, is it? You’ve known him since you were born.”

She nodded, but her gaze slipped away from his. “I guess that’s so.” She was silent for a moment, but her forehead was knotted. “When you came back, what did he say to you?”

He didn’t especially want to remember that time, but he would, if it helped Anna.

“We talked. About why I’d left, and what it had been like out there.” He jerked his head, but Anna would know he wasn’t meaning the distant line of trees, but what lay beyond. “He talked about what it meant to come back. Asked me to be sure I was ready before I made the commitment to be baptized.”

Anna nodded. She didn’t look as if she relished that prospect. “You went before the congregation then.”

“Ja. Bishop Mose said I could wait for a bit if I wanted, but my mamm was sick, so it was important to do it right away.” His throat thickened. His mother had been dying; they’d all known that. But she’d seen her son restored to the fellowship before she passed.

“Myra told me about her death. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not able to say more. Anna was pushing him down some roads he’d just as soon not take.

“You’ve seen the rest of it with others. I knelt before the congregation, confessed, was forgiven. And everything was like it had been before.”

“Like it had been before.” She repeated the words, but they didn’t seem to give her much comfort.

“Don’t look that way, Anna.” Impulsively he reached out to her, wanting to wipe away that expression. “I came back because I had to, you see. Because of my mamm. It will be easier for you. I’m sure of it. After all, you came back because you wanted to.”

For a long moment she stared at him, her blue eyes wide with some emotion he couldn’t name. And then her lashes swept down, hiding it from him.

“Ja,” she said, her voice flat. “I’m sure you’re right.”

 

 

“After
supper” could mean most anytime, Anna decided as she and Myra washed up the dishes. Bishop Mose could show up soon, and she had to be ready.

Unfortunately, her mind was a blank.

Samuel had reminded her that she’d known Bishop Mose from her earliest memories, which was certainly true. She’d loved going to his harness shop with Daadi, and he’d always had a gentle word and a twinkle in his eyes for her. But that had been long ago, and this was now.

Myra, maybe sensing her discomfort, kept up a gentle flow of chatter that allowed Anna to simply smile and nod from time to time. Behind them, Joseph sat on the floor, playing with the two little girls as naturally as if Gracie had always been a part of their lives.

Funny, how that thought gave her pause. If she’d come back here with Gracie right after Jannie’s death, how different would the situation have been?

She didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. She hadn’t wanted to come back then, didn’t really want it now. Her life was out there, in the world, where she could make up her own mind about things.

You came back because you wanted to,
Samuel had said.
That will make it easier
.

Her stomach cramped. She hadn’t wanted to. Everyone here seemed to accept that without question, but it wasn’t true. And if Bishop Mose asked her point-blank, how would she answer?

She looked across the room, her gaze seeking her child. Gracie stood, balanced uncertainly, holding a block in each hand, waving them and laughing at something Joseph said to her.

Anna’s heart turned over. She would kneel in front of the congregation, beg forgiveness, all to keep Gracie safe. The girl she’d been three years ago wouldn’t have been able to humble herself in that way, but then she hadn’t known what it was to have a child. For Gracie, she would do anything.

The clop of a horse’s hooves came almost as punctuation to her thought. Bishop Mose must be arriving already.

He entered smiling, little Sarah running to meet him as if he were another grossdaadi. He scooped her up in his arms and spoke to her in a low voice. Gracie, following her cousin’s lead, looked for a moment as if she’d let go and toddle toward him. Then she plopped down on her bottom and crawled across the floor. She grabbed his pant leg, and he stooped down and picked her up, too.