Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two (14 page)

Thomas appeared at his elbow. “Matt Ziegler and his boys are here. They say their farm is fine, and where can they go to help?”

“Wait a minute.” Nate scrabbled through the drift of papers on the counter. “We sent some folks down to Hemlock Street, but I don’t know how many, and—”

He broke off as a list slid into view, showing neatly who’d asked for help, who’d volunteered, and who had gone where. “Susanna?” He glanced at her, startled. “What gave you this idea?”

“I just thought it might be of help. I didn’t mean to interfere.”

“It’s not interfering. It’s just what we need.” He ran a pencil down the list. “Ask Matt and his sons to go down to Ninth Street, Thomas. There’s water backing up from one of the runs there.”

Thomas nodded and darted off, and Nate turned to Susanna. She was stepping away, already effacing herself as she so often did. Maybe she was more comfortable being an observer, but if so, she knew how to put that to good use.

“You’ll find poster board on the shelves above the workbench in the storeroom. Do you think you could make a chart showing this information?”

“Ja, of course, if that would help.”

“You know it would.” He smiled, liking her assurance. Susanna wasn’t as timid as he used to think, especially when it came to something she felt strongly about.

He watched her for a moment as she took the list and hurried off toward the storeroom. It must have been difficult for her to butt into the situation with Anna Mae and the Englischer this morning, but she had done what was right. He suspected she always would.

That air of hers of staying on the sidelines, watching others—was that the result of the injury that had no doubt kept her from a normal life as a child? Or would she always have had that sweet shyness, regardless of circumstance?

One thing was certain-sure—her life recently had been one blow after another, with her mother’s illness and death, his own plans for the shop, the discovery that she had family she hadn’t known about. And then the flood, threatening the life she’d built here. The fact that she was so quiet about it didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling it.

Susanna had courage, more than he’d given her credit for in the years he’d known her. Still, surely her new family . . . well, Lydia and her husband, at least . . . could be a comfort and support to her, if only she’d let them. If he could help make that happen, it was the least he could do.

Anna Mae scurried out of the storeroom, brandishing the inventory sheet he’d sent her off to do. He’d have to know what was needed, assuming he could get through to his suppliers and they could get a shipment to town.

“All finished.” She handed it to him with a quick sweep of her lashes and a smile. “It was quite a job with everything moved around to make room for all the stuff that folks have stored in there.”

“Denke, Anna Mae,” he said absently, running his gaze down the list. Supplies were lower than he’d thought. If the trucks didn’t get through soon, they’d be down to what remained in the shop.

“What else can I do for you?” Anna Mae leaned a little closer, her sleeve brushing his.

Nate took a casual step back. Anna Mae’s flirting seemed to have accelerated since Susanna had started helping in the store, and it had begun to annoy him.

“You can get back to the register and let your sister have a short break,” he said, not looking at her. “I’ll be calling my suppliers if anyone needs me.”

The store’s telephone was in the back hallway, about as inconveniently located as possible, but at least it discouraged his young workers from using it for personal calls. They knew full well that was not allowed, but that didn’t stop them from trying. As long as they weren’t neglecting their work, he left them alone. He could, vaguely, remember what it was like to be a teenager.

This time his chief supplier answered the phone, but the news was not encouraging. He’d get there when he could, but his own shipments weren’t coming in yet. After extracting a promise that the supplier would send a truck to Oyersburg as soon as possible, Nate hung up.

When he reached the front of the store again, he was in time to see a van followed by a couple of cars pull into the parking lot. People began emerging, so many that it seemed impossible they’d all been wedged into the vehicles.

A smile spread over Nate’s face as he realized what was happening. The bridge was open. The Amish from Pleasant Valley had arrived to help.

Susanna emerged from the storeroom with the chart he’d asked her to make, and he took her arm and drew her over to the window.

“Look. See anyone familiar?”

Her breath seemed to catch. “Lydia. My . . . My sister.”

“That’s her husband, Adam, right behind her, and it looks as if they’ve brought half the church district with them.”

“Chloe said she’d come as soon as she could.” Susanna glanced up at him, a question in her eyes. “I don’t know her very well.”

“She’s family.” He answered what he thought was the question. “Naturally she wants to help, with you affected by the flood.”

“Chloe was forced out of her home, too.”

He puzzled over that comment. Was she thinking they had come only because of Chloe? Did she find it so hard to accept that her sister’s family would jump to help her also?

The group was entering through the front door now, and he nudged Susanna forward. “Don’t you think you should go and greet your sister?”

She hung back. “In a moment. I’m sure they’re looking for you to tell them what to do.”

Shy and stubborn was a difficult combination, Nate decided as he strode toward the group. Susanna was going to need a push or two if she was to build a relationship with her birth family.

And if he did the pushing, she’d no doubt become convinced that as she’d told him once already, he just wanted them to give her an option other than the shop.

Still, somebody had to try.

“Wilkom, wilkom.” He couldn’t help grinning at the sight of all those willing, well-rested volunteers. They were such a contrast to the tired faces of those who’d been working for what seemed an eternity.

“We’re here to help.” Adam Beachy spoke up. “As soon as we heard the bridge was open, we headed out.”

“You’re a wonderful-gut sight. I don’t mind telling you, folks here are about worn-out, and the cleanup is just starting.”

“It’ll be a long haul, judging by the little we’ve seen so far,” Adam said, and several others nodded. “We thought some fresh food might be needed, so there are boxes of fruit and baked goods in the van. Should we bring the food in here?”

“Maybe your driver could take it right to the shelter,” Nate suggested. “That’s where the greatest need is. Thomas, go with Mr.—?” He paused, looking inquiringly at the older Englisch man who must be one of the drivers.

“Miller, Ben Miller,” he said. “Come along, young Thomas. You can guide me to the shelter.”

Thomas grinned at the break in the routine, and the two of them headed out.

Nate glanced at Susanna, who still hovered back by the counter as if uncertain what to do. Lydia was watching her with the worried concentration of a mother for a child. He had a feeling it was going to take more than anything he could do to get Susanna adjusted to her new family.

“Susanna has a chart of where workers are needed,” he said, deliberately leading the group toward her. She handed the chart to him, her cheeks flushed.

He laid it on the counter, and they bent over it. “You can see where we’ve sent workers already,” he said, pointing. “The west end of town is still closed until they finish inspecting the buildings for safety, but the area toward the river is open.”

He took a step back, letting the men crowd around the list, and managed to put himself near Lydia Beachy.

“Go to her,” he said softly. “She won’t make the first move.”

Lydia sent him a look that mingled surprise and gratitude. Then she rounded the counter quickly and held out her hands to Susanna. For a moment Susanna didn’t budge. Then she stepped forward into her sister’s hug.

Nate turned back to the men. He should be glad. He
was
glad. But it occurred to him that the more Susanna moved into her sisters’ lives, the more she might move out of theirs. And he found that thought strangely troubling.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

S
usanna
set the last of the breakfast dishes in the drainer and picked up the towel.

“I’ll finish up the drying,” Dora said, snatching the towel from her hand. “I can do that, even if the lot of you think I’m worn-out and useless.” The words were said with a smile, but Susanna could hear beneath them the faint fear that they might be true.

She surrendered the towel. “We know you can work rings around all of us. You just have to give yourself time to get back to normal.”

Dora shook her head slightly, her lips pressing together, accentuating the wrinkles that surrounded them. She was discouraged, obviously, and no wonder. Dora wasn’t one to take to being idle. It was foolish of Nate to think she’d be happy sitting in her rocking chair.

“So many folks need help right now.” Dora shook her head as if chiding herself. “And all I can do is mope around and worry about the shop.”

“I know.” Susanna put her arm around Dora’s waist in a quick hug. “I’m feeling the same, and blaming myself for it, too.”

Dora’s expression seemed to ease. “We’re foolish, the both of us, ain’t so? You saved much of the stock, the water has gone back down, and the shop is still standing. Everything will be back to normal in no time.”

Susanna nodded, relieved to see her partner’s mood improve. “In the meantime, I’ll try to make myself useful over at the store.”

“Try?” Dora had a little of her usual laughter back in her face. “Nate told me everything you did yesterday. Not that I was surprised. I told him you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Susanna was still smiling at this exchange when she crossed the parking lot to the store, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the town’s recovery from the disaster might not be as easy as Dora hoped. In the past few days, when Oyersburg had been cut off, none of them had realized the full extent of the flooding.

Towns up and down the valley had been hit, some not as bad, some worse. In each of those towns, people were working and wondering and longing to be back to normal. Looked at that way, the problems seemed overwhelming.

Do the next thing, she lectured herself as she opened the side door to the store. That’s all anyone can do.

The store was busy already. Someone, probably Nate, had posted her charts at the front window, and it looked as if the list of those needing help had grown considerably since the previous day. The next thing, she reminded herself.

Nate was deep in conversation with an Englischer who wore a hard hat and carried a clipboard, two signs of authority in these trying days. With a final word, the man headed out the door. Nate turned, saw her, and came toward her.

He nodded toward the departing figure. “He was from the group that’s inspecting the properties down in the west end. He came to let us know that it’s safe to go back inside your house and the shop. Not to start work, but just to see how bad it is and bring out a few things.”

“That’s wonderful-gut news.” Susanna could feel a smile blossoming on her face. “I’ll get your mamm.”

“Wait.” Nate grasped her arm to stop her, and as it had before, his hand warmed her right through her sleeve. “We’ll have a look first, before taking Mamm in there.”

Susanna blinked. “Why? It’s her shop, and she was just telling me how much she longs to get back in.”

Nate looked like a man struggling to be patient. “She has a lot of years of her life wrapped up in that shop. If it’s very bad, I want a chance to prepare her before she sees it.”

Nate might be bossy, but Susanna realized he was acting out of love. “I understand. But I don’t think your mother will.”

His sudden smile lit his face. “I’ll take the blame for it, ja?”

“I’ll be sure to remind you of it,” she said.

The sun was shining as they walked down the hill, and it might have been any early fall day if a person could stop looking at the damage. They weren’t alone. Trucks rumbled by, and a group of teenagers carrying buckets and shovels passed them, their laughing voices a contrast to their obvious mission.

“School is still closed, I guess,” she said, nodding toward the group.

“At least until the end of the week, I hear. They’re still assessing the damage.” Nate seemed to be thinking of something else, and he glanced at her inquiringly. “Did you have a chance to visit with Lydia and Adam yesterday?”

“A little.” Was he still hopeful that her new family would distract her from the shop? But that was probably unfair of her, and what did it matter anyway? The flood seemed to have swept away lesser troubles. “They want me to come see them on Saturday. I said I’d think about it.”

Nate nodded, not speaking.

“Aren’t you going to give me your opinion?” she asked, sure he had one.

“I’m afraid to,” he said, his lips quirking into a smile she couldn’t help but return.

The smile faded as they moved into the flood area. The yellow house on the corner of her block had been knocked off its foundation so that it stood, still intact, several feet away. Just a few days earlier Susanna had seen the owner, a cheerful elderly woman who loved gardening, out tending her chrysanthemums. Now the yard was a sea of mud.

“Can people really come back?” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Nate answered her.

“Some will. And some will give up and move on.”

Susanna wanted to pray for the gardener and her flowers, but she wasn’t sure what to ask. Was it better to try to struggle through all the rebuilding or to give up? Perhaps it was best to pray as faith taught—that God’s will be done.

A Dumpster had already been moved into what was left of the front yard of one house. A man and a couple of teenagers, wearing boots and gloves, dragged saturated carpeting out the front door, struggling to lift it to the Dumpster.

“Wait,” Nate said, and went quickly to help. Together they managed to heave the sopping carpet into the Dumpster, and a moment later he rejoined her.

They neared the house she had called home in recent years. “Your building doesn’t look too bad,” Nate said. “Do you want to go in and bring out your clothes and such?”

She was trembling inside, but it was not from worries about a few dresses. “I’d rather see the shop first. Maybe we can stop on our way back to get a few things from the apartment.”

For a moment it seemed he would argue the point, but then he nodded and moved on. It made sense to do it that way, didn’t it? There was no point carrying her belongings down to the shop.

The farther down the block they went, the worse the devastation became. The full force of the flooding creek had swept through the lower end. She glanced down the block toward the cottage Chloe had rented and gasped. There was nothing left but a pile of mud and rubble.

Nate followed the direction of her gaze. “Ja, I heard about your sister’s place. But Seth said they took the important things when she got out, so all she lost was some clothes.”

“She didn’t even mention it to me. And I didn’t ask.” Guilt swept over Susanna. How could she be so selfish as not to think about what Chloe might have lost?

“Then I guess she’s not that upset about it.” Nate’s tone was practical. “Well, there it is.”

The shop stood as they’d last seen it, forlorn and storm-battered. Something inside Susanna was shaking as they approached the door.

“Excuse me.”

They both turned at the call to see an Englisch woman leaning out the window of a car. “We have coolers full of sandwiches and drinks in the back for anyone who’s ready for something. Please help yourself.”

“Thank you. Not just now.” Susanna blinked back sudden tears at the sympathy in the woman’s voice.

“Guess it’s a little early.” The man driving leaned across the seat, giving them a sympathetic smile. “We’ll come by later, as long as the food holds out.” With a wave, he drove on to the next house.

“That was kind.”

“People are, for the most part,” Nate said. “A crisis brings out the best in some and the worst in others.”

She nodded, remembering the man who’d tried to buy them out cheap so he could sell high. “Maybe it just shows what people are really like inside.” The thought was vaguely unsettling. What qualities had it brought out in her, besides a tendency to focus selfishly on her own loss?

Well, she was about to find out how bad it was. Susanna took a step to the porch and felt Nate’s hand firmly gripping her elbow.

“Careful. Mind where you step. We don’t know how weak the boards might be.”

The window to the left of the door was gone—not just broken but swept away, frame and all. She was still fumbling for the key when Nate shoved a key in the lock. She’d forgotten he’d have one, of course. He owned the building, after all, even though they always spoke of the shop as theirs.

Taking a steadying breath, Susanna entered the shop. Or what was left of the shop. She looked around in disbelief. It didn’t look terribly bad on the outside, but inside . . .

“Could be worse, I guess,” Nate said, his boots squishing in the layer of mud on the floor.

“I don’t know how.” She choked out the words.

The shelves and tables looked as if a giant hand had swept through, knocking and breaking with abandon. The one glass cabinet, where they kept the more fragile items, was smashed beyond repair, and a wall shelf hung drunkenly across the door to the back room. Anything they’d left behind was lost in the mud and debris on the floor, or it had washed out the broken window.

“You were right,” she said. “Your mother will be so upset to see it this way.”

“Ja.” Nate’s voice was gruff, and she sensed that he was moved more than he wanted to admit.

“The first day I came in, I loved it.” For a moment Susanna seemed to see the shop through those eyes. She’d stood just inside the door, she remembered, overwhelmed and yet welcomed by the color and scent and feel of the place.

“Mamm told me once that when she saw you here that first time, she knew you’d love the shop as much as she did.” Nate lifted a table, righting it, making a small sign of order in chaos.

Susanna nodded, lost in memories. “I was wonderful glad when she offered me a job. And when we became partners . . .” She didn’t have the words to express how that had felt.

“When Mamm first wanted to start the shop, I was doubtful,” Nate said, moving cautiously toward the stairs. “But she had always worked so hard to provide for us kids that I thought she should have her dream.”

Susanna followed in Nate’s footsteps, thankful for the pair of boots he had provided.

“You were fairly young when your daad died, ain’t so?”

Nate paused on a step. “Sixteen. But even before his accident, he didn’t—”

Susanna looked up at him, shocked at the bitter note in his voice. “He didn’t what?”

Nate’s face twisted in a smile that expressed the opposite of humor. “I guess you wouldn’t know, not growing up here. My daad was that rare thing, an Amish man who was lazy. Oh, Mamm made excuses for him, but I saw him for what he really was. Bone lazy.”

Dora seldom spoke of her late husband, and Susanna had no way of knowing whether Nate’s assessment was correct or not. But his feelings were genuine, whether he’d been right in his judgment or not.

She struggled to find the words to respond. “You’ve more than made up for him, taking care of your mother and sisters the way you have.”

She began to see where that bossiness of his had originated. He must have felt from the time he was small that the responsibility for the family lay on his shoulders.

“I tried.” They emerged into the room at the top of the stairs, and Nate seemed to shrug off the subject. “Let’s have a look for anything we should take out of here.”

Susanna nodded, respecting his boundaries. He probably wouldn’t have said all that about his father if not for the shock of seeing his mother’s dream in such a state.

Susanna brushed her hands on her skirt and opened a drawer in the large cabinet where they stored extra items made of fabric. The holiday-themed place mats and wall hangings seemed as bright as ever, but she could smell the damp filtering into the upstairs already.

“These fabric things should go right away,” she said. “But I don’t think we can carry them all.”

“No, likely not.” His gaze passed over the quilted pieces with little interest. “If you can stack things that should be moved first near the steps, I’ll send the boys down to get them today. And I’ll have to get a carpenter in as quick as possible.”

“We’ll need to get the mud out before a carpenter can start work.” Her thoughts scrambled through the enormous list of things that had to be done before the shop could reopen. She realized Nate was staring at her. “What?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean a carpenter to start repairs yet,” Nate said. “To give me an opinion on whether the building is salvageable.”

Susanna straightened, looking at him blankly. “Salvageable?” She repeated the word, its syllables leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

Nate’s square jaw seemed to harden. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, Susanna, or my mother, either. But before I sink money into fixing the building, I have to know whether it’s worth fixing.”

Logical. Of course it was. But in her heart, it felt like a death knell for her dreams.

* * *

Chloe
glanced at Susanna as she drove down the winding country road toward Lydia and Adam’s place on Saturday afternoon. She’d feared Susanna would change her mind at the last minute about coming, but thank goodness she hadn’t. Getting her there was another step forward, and Chloe was in a mood to look for hopeful signs.

“This is pretty country, isn’t it?” Chloe hated making stilted conversation about the scenery, but it was better than sitting in silence.

“Lovely. It’s good to see something so . . . so untouched.” Susanna gestured at a field of cornstalks turning golden in the fall sunshine.

“That’s what I was thinking, too. Maybe we need a little relief from the troubles once in a while.” If Chloe was right in what she hoped, Susanna would end this day feeling closer to her family. How could she resist her nephews? Chloe couldn’t help smiling at the thought of their little faces.