Love’s Journey Home (2 page)

“Helen? Helen.” Emma’s insistent tone jerked Helen from her inventory of this stranger
who seemed so familiar. “This is Gabriel Gless, Thomas’s cousin.”

Feeling as awkward as a child on the first day of school, Helen scrambled for a simple
salutation. She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

Naomi nudged Helen with a sharp elbow. “Mudder?”

“Nice to meet you.” She managed a nod. “Welcome to Bliss Creek.”

Straightening, he moved toward her, a glint of laughter in his eyes. What was so funny?

“These are my daughters.” She introduced the girls. “Are you and your
fraa
visiting long?”

“My fraa passed.” No emotion visited those words but Helen saw the same expression
in his eyes as before. He might be able to stifle the feelings in his speech, but
not in his heart. “Been almost three years now.”

“Gabriel’s not visiting.” Thomas spoke up as if to rescue his cousin. He too knew
about this rocky road, even if his had diverged toward happier times. “He and his
kinner
moved here from Indiana. Making a new start of it.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Meet the Gless clan.” He swept his long arm toward the
wiggling mass of youngsters engaged in all sorts of tomfoolery on the quilts. “Isaac,
Daniel, Mary Elizabeth, Samuel, Abigail, Seth, Isabelle, and little Rachel.”

They all chimed in with hellos that ranged from bellows to softly uttered words and
ducked heads. Mary Elizabeth, whose blonde hair and blue eyes must’ve belonged to
her mudder, shifted from one bare foot to another. “Some of us will be looking for
work, if you know of any.”

“Work…
jah, jah
, I’m sure you’ll manage that around here. Annie, Emma’s sister, have you met her?”
Helen glanced at Emma, who shook her head as if to say not yet. “She’s needing a hard
worker who knows how to bake to help her out at Plank’s Pastry and Pie Shop.”

“Not now.” Gabriel gave the girl a sharp look. “We’ll have time for that later. For
now, let’s enjoy the parade.”

Mary Elizabeth ducked her head, but she seemed pleased with Helen’s tidbit of information.
Helen studied the rest of the children. Rachel appeared to be about three, Isaac probably
twenty-one or twenty-two. Quite an age spread. At least the older ones could care
for the younger. As if to underscore the thought, little Isabelle, who might be about
four, escaped from Mary Elizabeth’s grasp and trundled toward Helen, arms up as if
to offer a hug. Her sweet smile enveloped Helen, and she accepted the damp offering
of a hug and a kiss.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Isabelle.” The hug warmed Helen’s heart. Her own daughters
were quick with affection, but this little girl didn’t know her in the slightest,
making her unconditional offering all the sweeter. “You are very welcome to Bliss
Creek too.”

“Wants cookie.” Isabelle had a lisp. She patted Helen’s cheek with a sticky hand that
indicated she’d already had at least one dessert. “Hungry. Want cookie. Have cookie?”

Not only did Gabriel have his hands full with eight children, but this child would
require extra care. Her almond-shaped eyes, round cheeks, and stubby fingers and arms
were all signs that Isabelle was one of those special children who would forever be
a child. Helen raised her gaze to Gabriel. She saw nothing in his bronzed face but
a father’s deep love for his child.

Isabelle wiggled from Helen’s grasp.

“Pony!” Her hands flailed and she skipped in the direction of a wagon that had pulled
into a parking lot on the other side of the street. “Pet pony.”

“Not now,” Gabriel called. “Don’t go in the street, little one.”

Isabelle looked up at Helen and smiled. “Pony.”

“Jah, pony.” Helen waved at Luke, Emma’s oldest brother, and his wife, Leah, who were
directing their flock as they hopped from the wagon Luke had outfitted with rows of
wooden seats for his big family. “You made it. The route’s almost full.”

An unsmiling Leah returned her wave with a barely noticeable flick of a hand. “We’re
late as always,” the other woman called as she hoisted baby Jebediah onto one hip
and rousted her twin girls from the second-row seat. “I forgot the basket and we had
to go back…”

The high, tight whinny of a horse interrupted Leah’s words. Helen glanced east toward
the beginning of the parade route. A buggy, swaying from side to side, raced down
the middle of the street, the horse pounding in a frantic gallop.

“What is…who is…” Helen’s questions were caught up in the murmurs of the crowd that
immediately began to swell. Plain families didn’t participate in the parade. They
only came to watch in anticipation of the fireworks display to follow. “Whose buggy
is that?”

The horse looked familiar.
Daed’s
Morgan? She still thought of him as Daed’s Morgan even though her daed had passed
in April. She couldn’t get a good look at the driver of the buggy. His hat covered
his face. Then he stood and snapped the reins. One hand went to his hat and lifted
it high. He whooped and yelled, “Yee haw! Ride ’em, cowboy!”

The voice. The face. The face so like George’s. Her cheeks suddenly hot, hands shaking,
Helen started forward into the road. “Edmond? Edmond! What are you—”

A hand grabbed her arm and jerked her back so hard she tumbled into the quilt and
landed atop Abigail. A knee gouged her back. With a startled cry, the girl scooted
to the left, causing the other children to scatter. Tangled in her long skirt, Helen
scrambled onto her knees, fighting to see over Daniel, Isaac, Samuel, and the other
boys who jumped to their feet.

Gabriel dashed into the street and swept Isabelle into his arms just as the horse
and swaying buggy whipped past them, wheels rattling on the asphalt. His momentum
carried him to the far curb. He stumbled, dropped to his knees, but kept the little
girl securely wrapped in one long arm.

The buggy, still swaying wildly, disappeared down the street. Several folks in the
crowd, their faces at first puzzled, and then amused, began to clap. From the looks
of them, they were tourists. The teenagers hooted and hollered their appreciation.
Others, older folks, shook their heads and muttered, disapproving looks on their faces.

Gabriel popped up, whirled, and marched back toward them, Isabelle still dangling
from his arm like a stuffed doll.

“Who was that?” Despite his obvious anger, he kept his voice down to a low growl.
He panted, furious red blotches on cheeks that had gone white. He seemed oblivious
to his daughter’s giggles. “He nearly ran over Isabelle. He could’ve killed her.”

“I—”

“Police. Stop. Stop that buggy now!” Police chief Dylan Parker raced past them on
foot, dodging people who had spilled into the street to watch the buggy continue its
flight toward Bliss Creek’s city limits. The police officer’s hat blew from his head,
but he didn’t halt. “Edmond Crouch, stop now!”

Sirens wailed. Flashing blue and red lights came into view. One of Bliss Creek’s three
police cars gained on Chief Parker, swerved around him, slowed, and then halted long
enough for Parker to jerk open a door and climb in before picking up speed again.

The noise of the crowd grew. Laughter mingled with questions and curious bystanders
turned their gaze on the Plain families who had congregated in one spot along the
parade route.

“You’ve met my daughters.” Fighting the urge to cover her face, Helen rubbed the spot
on her arm where Gabriel had jerked her aside and gazed up at him. “That was my son,
Edmond.”

I
sabelle squirmed in Gabriel’s arms and wailed. The sound penetrated an anger born
of fear. Laura had left him in charge of their children. He alone had the job of watching
over them and raising them properly in their faith. In his wife’s absence, he would
do whatever necessary to care for them, keep them safe, and send them on their ways
to start their own families of faith. Some days, like today, the promise proved to
be a tall order. He deposited Isabelle on the sidewalk. She trotted back to Helen
and again held up her arms.

“
Nee
, Isabelle, go to Abigail.” He nodded to his older daughter. “Take her.”

“But Daed, she’s all sticky and dirty—”

“Then get her cleaned up and make sure she stays out of the street.” The girls spent
a great deal of time caring for Isabelle and little Rachel. They didn’t complain,
but Gabriel knew their burdens were heavy in a household without a mudder to oversee
the cooking, laundry, sewing, canning, baking, and gardening. “The parade will begin
any minute. Then we’ll eat and later we’ll watch the fireworks.”

“We’ll take care of her, Daed. Don’t worry.”

Abigail smiled up at him. With her curls, fair skin, and blue eyes, she was the spitting
image of Laura at sixteen. Gabriel had known his wife from the time she was four.
Secretly promised to marry her at twelve. Done so at eighteen. He swallowed the lump
in his aching throat. Abigail hoisted Isabelle to her hip and snatched a rag doll
from the crumpled quilt. Isabelle laughed and clapped her hands. Laura would be pleased
with their children. This was Abigail’s rumspringa and she spent it caring for the
little ones, not running wild in the street in a runaway buggy.

New anger blew through him. He turned and bore down on Helen. “Does your son always
race along parade routes acting like a cowboy?”

“Nee. Never. It’s his rumspringa…” The woman’s voice trailed away. “He’s been…different.”

Having been through three rumspringas already with his own kinner, and now Abigail
in hers, Gabriel found not much surprised him. But this wild ride through the streets
in broad daylight, this was a new one. What would possess the boy to do something
so openly? Back home the teenagers wore Englisch clothes, smoked, carried cell phones,
and even drove cars. They sneaked around, thinking no one saw. Parents turned their
heads and pretended not to know. But this flaunting of it was different. Disrespectful.
His hope that this move to Kansas would make it easier for him to protect his children
from worldly influences drained away.

This boy, this Edmond, had been out of control. What kind of mudder raised a child
to act like that? Helen looked so forlorn, he might have felt sorry for her were it
not for the hairsbreadth he’d been away from being trampled by the horse. He’d felt
the breeze of the buggy as it passed. For himself, he had no worries. But for his
children. They had only one parent now.

“Edmond’s a good boy.” Thomas spoke as if reading Gabriel’s thoughts on his face.
His cousin stood next to Helen, towering nearly a foot over her, his arms crossed
over his chest. “He’s a hard worker. Works for me on the farm.”

Thomas would never say something he didn’t mean. He rarely spoke at all, but when
he did, he meant it.

Still, the horse’s whinnies sounded in Gabriel’s ears. The feel of Isabelle’s body
squirming against him as he hurled himself past the buggy caused the panic to rise
again. Fighting for composure, he leaned over to examine the knees of his pants. Better
they didn’t see his face. One pant leg had been torn by his rapid descent to the asphalt.

“That was strange behavior for a good boy.” He managed to sound calm. No judgment.
“He seemed…crazed or drugged.”

“He’s embraced his rumspringa, as many of our youngsters do.” Helen put her hands
on her ample hips. Gone was the awkward woman who’d introduced herself earlier, replaced
by a mother hen whose feathers were ruffled, her chick found wanting. “As I’m sure
your older boys have done. That is the point of it. He should be forgiven for that.”

“My boys didn’t put a little girl in danger.” Warmth flooded Gabriel’s face and showered
his neck. She ought not to speak back to a man such as himself. Yet he couldn’t help
but admire that she stood up for her son. “Forgiven, yes. But his actions—endangering
others and flaunting it in public—must be corrected. Surely you’ll talk to your bishop.”

“Now your bishop as well.” Thomas spoke again. Why did he defend this woman and her
undisciplined son? “I’ll talk to Edmond.”

“So will I, being I’m his mudder and all.” Helen dusted her hands together as if to
wash them of the subject. “I’ll go now. I reckon Chief Parker has caught up with him
and given him a talking to. Emma, could the girls stay with you until I come back?”

“Of course.”

“Rumspringa doesn’t give him the right to put others in danger.” Gabriel couldn’t
help himself. He kept talking even though she’d turned away, giving him her back.
She was short and sturdy, very different from Laura with her long legs and thin build.
The direction of his thoughts confounded him. “Does this community’s Ordnung allow
him to do that?”

“Nee.” Thomas answered yet again. “He’ll be dealt—”

“Mrs. Crouch!” A sweaty, heavy man in a uniform so tight the buttons looked as if
they might burst wormed his way through the parade goers. His skin was burnt red from
the sun and he wore shiny sunglasses that hid his eyes and reflected everything around
him. “Mrs. Crouch, I need to talk to you.”

Helen turned back. Her dimpled cheeks turned from red to an ashen gray. “What is it?
Is he hurt, Officer Bingham?”

“No, ma’am.” The officer removed his hat. He nodded at Gabriel and Thomas, then glanced
at a notebook he clutched in his hand as if seeking guidance. “Chief Parker says to
tell you, begging your pardon, ma’am, that your son is drunk. He’s being arrested.
For drinking and driving.”