by Marta Perry
Benjy let go and scooted off at his usual trot, and Beth looked at Daniel. “Denke, Daniel. I’m sure it takes longer when he helps, but he does love it.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.” He’d do far more for Beth and her son if he could.
Beth hesitated a moment, glancing away as if she didn’t want to meet his eyes. “I wanted to say... I took your advice. It’s gone.”
Unable to help himself, he clasped her hand for a second. “I’m glad.”
Beth looked fleetingly into his face and then hurried after her son.
Standing there, seeming to feel the warmth of her hand still in his, Daniel faced the truth. He loved Beth. It might never come to anything but friendship, but he loved her.
* * *
Benjy was skipping alongside Beth as they headed for home later, making her feel she’d like to skip, as well. She seemed inexpressibly lighter, and she had no idea why.
She swung Benjy’s hand, loving the way his fingers tightened on hers and the sweet expression in his soft, round face as he looked up at her.
“What makes you want to skip?” she asked.
His forehead crinkled as he considered the question. He took another skipping step, and then his forehead cleared and his eyes lit. “I know. Because I feel happy, and when I skip, I get more happy.”
Laughter bubbled up in her. “Gut. I’m glad you feel happy. I’ll have to try that—maybe it will make me happier, too.”
“Aren’t you happy, Mammi?” With a quick change, his face turned serious.
“For sure I am.” She scooped him into her arms for a hug. “Because I have you, and you make me happy all the time.”
“Even when I’m naughty?”
“Even then,” she assured him. And she knew just as suddenly why she felt so much freer. She’d resolved to turn away from the past and focus on their future—hers and Benjy’s. No doubt she’d falter sometimes, but at least she was looking in the right direction.
Benjy tugged at her hand. “Skip with me.”
Laughter bubbled up in her, and together they began to skip toward the house. Benjy had been right. Skipping did make her feel happier.
They were laughing and breathless when they reached the porch. Trying to catch her breath, Beth glanced at the door and found her mother-in-law looking back at her.
Sarah’s expression sobered her instantly. It said she didn’t approve—whether of the laughter or the skipping, Beth wasn’t sure.
She forced herself to smile. “Look, Benjy. Here’s your grossmammi come to see us.”
Benjy scurried to hug his grandmother, and Sarah’s disapproval transformed into a look of indulgent affection and pride. She pushed open the screen door and bent for a hug.
“Ach, there’s my sweet boy. I’m sehr glad to see you.”
When the hug went on a little too long for Benjy, he started to wiggle. Going to the rescue, Beth grasped the door to usher them inside.
“Sarah, this is such a nice surprise. If I’d known you were coming today, we could have come home a little earlier from the store.”
“I didn’t know myself.” Sarah smoothed Benjy’s silky-soft hair down where it tended to curl at the sides. “Myra Miller had to pick something up at her brother’s place, so I said I’d ride along. I thought I could get some apples from you.”
“For sure,” Beth said, thankful she’d cleaned the kitchen up before they’d left. “Will you have lunch with us?”
“Better not.” Sarah glanced at the clock. “We’d best get the apples so I’m ready when Myra comes back.”
Myra, as Beth well knew, was Sarah’s closest friend. Also a widow, she lived less than a block away from the cottage where James had grown up. An unstoppable talker, Myra was, and Beth had sometimes wondered how the two of them heard the other when they talked simultaneously.
Lifting a basket from a hook in the mudroom, Beth handed it to Benjy. “Let’s pick them now. Would you like McIntosh or Red Delicious?”
“McIntosh, please. Then I’ll make apple dumplings for when Benjy comes to visit me tomorrow. And maybe one or two of the Delicious.”
Benjy was already scurrying out the door with the basket. “I’ll get them,” he called.
“Now, you wait until we get there before you start picking,” Sarah said, hurrying after him.
“It’s all right. He knows which ones to pick.” Beth fell into step with her.
“But he might get hurt.” Sarah gave her a look that suggested she was a negligent mother.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” After all, Sarah had lost her only son. She was bound to be feeling overly worried about her only grandson.
They walked in silence for another few steps, but Beth sensed Sarah had more to say.
Sure enough, Sarah emitted a sigh. “You know I’m not one to interfere,” she began, “but I really have to caution you.” She shook her head. “When I saw you running and laughing down the lane...don’t you realize anyone might have seen you? And in your black dress, too.”
Beth didn’t know whether she felt more annoyed or more guilty, and she tried to compose herself before replying. “I’m sorry, Sarah. Perhaps it did seem frivolous, but Benjy was in such a happy mood that I wanted to encourage him.” She tried to say more, but her throat seemed tied up in knots.
She certainly couldn’t say anything about her own feeling of relief. Sarah wouldn’t understand without knowing of James’s failing, and she was determined that Sarah never would. That was the best thing she could do to protect her mother-in-law, and she’d keep that secret no matter what.
A glance at Sarah told her that she was near to tears. “Yah, for sure Benjy comes first. I just wouldn’t want anyone to think you weren’t properly mourning my son. It’s important what others think of you. It reflects on James.”
All Beth could do was nod and keep silent. There didn’t seem to be any appropriate response that was also truthful.
“Well, let’s forget it,” Sarah said. “I’m sure you’ll think again another time.”
Sarah’s attention was diverted by the sight of Benjy perched in the crotch of the biggest McIntosh tree, and she rushed toward him, uttering cautions and insisting he hang on until she could lift him down.
Benjy assumed his mulish expression, knowing that he was allowed to climb that high alone. In a moment he’d be telling his grandmother so. Murmuring a silent prayer for patience, Beth went in pursuit of Sarah, preparing to intercede and knowing it wouldn’t be welcomed by her mother-in-law.
A memory popped to the front of her mind—Daniel’s firm, quiet voice countering her objections to letting Benjy help that first day at the store. He’d been right, and she knew that now, but she doubted Sarah would ever admit to being overprotective, either toward Benjy or toward James.
Chapter Ten
The next afternoon Beth and Benjy walked down the street toward Sarah’s cottage. Sarah would be looking forward to his arrival. She glanced down at Benjy. For some reason, he seemed to be dragging his feet.
Familiar doubts nagged at her. Should she have left him with Janie this morning, knowing he’d be going to his grandmother’s this afternoon? He was only four. Maybe all of the changes in his life were too much. Maybe he needed her with him more, not less.
As if he felt her gaze, Benjy looked up at her, his straw hat slipping on his soft corn-silk hair. Smiling, she straightened it.
He shook his head, obviously not caring if his hat was crooked. “What are you going to do this afternoon, Mammi?”
“I’m going to stop and see your other grossmammi. And my grossmammi, too.”
Benjy puzzled over that for a moment and grinned when he got it. “I have an extra grossmammi, ain’t so?”
“You do. We have lots of family around us.”
“Yah. It’s nice,” he said. Then a cloud came over hi
s face. “I wish I could go with you. It’s more fun at the farm, especially if my cousins are there.”
She could understand his feelings, but she couldn’t let him have favorites among his grandmothers. “Your cousins are at school now, remember? And even if they weren’t, you have to remember that different people live differently. When you’re a guest, your job is to fit in.”
Benjy nodded, but he still looked mopey. Even while she debated about whether she should say something more, he looked up with the smile that was so like James’s.
“I’ll behave, Mammi. And Grossmammi made me apple dumplings.”
Apparently, the way to Benjy’s heart was through his stomach. As long as he was good, she’d take it. Time enough for him to learn to be a gracious guest for the sake of kindness.
Sarah was waiting, opening the door as they went up the short walk to the cottage that had been her and James’s home since before her husband died. As always, it looked spotless and tidy, the small patch of grass trimmed and the chrysanthemums along the porch tied to stakes so they wouldn’t sprawl.
“Benjy!” Sarah held out open arms for a hug. “Komm in. I’m happy to see you.” She glanced over his head at Beth. “I’ll bring him home by suppertime, yah?”
Beth nodded. “Denke. Have fun, Benjy. I’ll see you later.”
He waved, seeming already lured by the scent of apple dumplings, and she chased the guilt away firmly. Benjy was all right. And she was doing the best she could with each new day.
It was a short walk back to the lane that curved behind her place to the farm where she’d grown up. The fields stretched back toward the ridges and along the flat area that bordered the lane—golden now in the autumn sunlight. A wordless prayer of thanks for the beauty of this land seemed to flow from her heart. She was blessed to live here, surrounded by family and dear friends on every side.
Her steps quickened as she neared the kitchen door of the farmhouse. The sound of women’s voices floated out, accompanied by the smell of baking. Her mother and grandmother had already started the cookies for Grossmammi’s quilting frolic the next day.
They were so engrossed in talk that they apparently didn’t hear her approach. She opened the door, smiling in anticipation.
“You must not need my help with the cookies. It smells as if they’re almost done.”
Her mother rushed to hug her, closely followed by Grossmammi, brushing flour from her hands and transferring it to her apron. With their arms tight around her, Beth felt like a little girl again, seeking sympathy from the most important women in her life.
Wait...sympathy? She would have said she didn’t need it, but she realized in an instant how much she longed to tell them everything—James’s betrayal, her doubts, her fear that she was to blame for his wandering.
But she couldn’t. Two people already knew, and every other person in on a secret made it more likely that something would slip. Her need to protect Benjy must be stronger than her yearning for their sympathy.
“We saved shortbread cookies to do with you,” Mammi said. “We’ve already made the snickerdoodles and brownies.”
Beth went to the sink to wash her hands. “Grossmammi, you must expect a lot of hungry women at the quilting frolic.”
Her grandmother chuckled, her rosy cheeks crinkling. “Quilting is hard work. It needs a lot of fueling. Besides, everyone will be able to take some cookies home.”
Obviously Grossmammi was having a good day. She hoped that would be true the next day as well, although her fellow quilters were old friends who understood.
“You can take yours today,” Mammi said, handing her a bowl for the shortbread cookies. “After you do your share.”
Beth set to work on the familiar recipe. Every family seemed to have its special recipe that had been handed down from generation to generation. Her family’s was the rich, buttery recipe for shortbread cookies, and the thought of them made her mouth water.
Even though they’d seen each other a couple of days before, there seemed to be plenty to say. Family chatter kept them occupied until the shortbread was in the oven, when Mammi declared it was time to take a break for tea and cookies. Beth grabbed the kettle, laughingly arguing over who would fix the tea.
Grossmammi drew her to a chair. “Tell us how everything is going at the store. Do you like it? Where is Benjy today?”
“With Sarah this afternoon.” She started with the last question first. “She dropped by for some apples yesterday.” She paused, remembering how difficult it had been to deal with Sarah’s determination to keep Benjy from doing just about everything.
“And?” Her mother had heard the unspoken thought, it seemed. “Was something wrong?”
“Not really. I was just afraid Benjy might talk back to her because she was so protective—not wanting him to climb or run or even reach for the apples.”
“Did he?” Mamm asked.
“No,” she admitted. “But it made me nervous the whole time. I tried to explain that those were things he normally did, but she’s so cautious.”
“She always was.” Grossmammi took a sip of her tea. “She spoiled James with all her fussing over him, and she’ll do the same with Benjy if you’re not careful.”
Beth glanced at her mother. Grossmammi was becoming more outspoken the older she became. What she said might be true, but Beth had to be tactful with Sarah, especially since James was gone.
“Now, Mammi,” her mother said. “Beth will handle it all right. And a little fussing won’t hurt the boy.”
Beth held her breath, fearing an argument, but Grossmammi just shrugged. “I just don’t want Benjy to be too much like his father.”
Beth sought frantically for another topic of conversation. It almost sounded as if Grossmammi knew, but she couldn’t.
Mammi stepped in. “How is it going at the store? Does Benjy enjoy going there or is it too much for such a little one?”
“It’s definitely not too much for him.” Relieved, she smiled at her mother with thankfulness. “You should see him going from one person to another trying to help. And they’re all so good with him. Especially Daniel.” She pictured Daniel’s large hands guiding Benjy’s as they worked together.
“Ach, Benjy is such a sweet boy. Of course they’re gut with him.” Mammi beamed with pride over her grandson.
“And Daniel is a gut man,” Grossmammi added. She was still for a moment, her gaze seeming to drift to the past. “There was a time when I thought he’d be just right for our Beth.” She smiled. “Maybe it’s not too late, yah?”
Beth’s mother drew in a shocked breath. “Mammi! It’s much too early for Beth to be thinking of that.”
Grossmammi chuckled. “Nothing wrong with thinking,” she said, twinkling at Beth.
Shaking her head, Beth busied herself with her tea, hoping the cup would hide the fact that she might be blushing.
* * *
By the time Beth reached home, she had convinced herself that she had shown no reaction at all to her grandmother’s comment about Daniel. He was a friend, and that was all.
Besides, after what had happened with James, she wasn’t at all sure that she could trust anyone enough to marry again. Even if she did grow to feel more confident about her own judgment, Benjy might resent the idea of someone taking his father’s place. And as her mother had said, it was much too soon to be thinking about that at all.
Benjy should be back before too long, and she suspected his grandmother would have given him several treats during the afternoon. A light supper would suit them both, and she had several quarts of the beef vegetable soup she’d made back in the spring. With only herself and a young child to feed, it had become increasingly tempting to skip making a heavy meal for supper.
She’d have time to feed the chickens before Sarah and Benjy arrived, so she headed into the mudroom to mix up the mash for the hens. Bu
t she’d barely gotten started when she heard a buggy coming up the drive.
Leaving the pail on the counter, Beth headed for the door. Sarah must be bringing Benjy back early. Maybe an active four-year-old was a bit much for her.
She stepped out onto the back porch, but the horse and buggy weren’t familiar. When it drew nearer, she recognized Elijah Schmidt from the church. She knew him, of course, but he and his family were newcomers and lived on the opposite side of town, where he ran a couple of small businesses—a harness shop that his oldest son managed and a fabric store that was his wife’s favorite project.
There didn’t seem to be any reason for him to be calling on her, but she went forward with a welcoming smile.
“Elijah, wilkom. What can I do for you?” She stopped at the bottom of the steps. She didn’t intend to ask him in. That seemed unsuitable when she was alone here.
“How are you, Beth? And your young one?” Elijah heaved his considerable bulk down from the buggy seat. He wasn’t fat, she scolded herself. Just...large.
“We’re fine, denke, Elijah. And your family?” She spoke the expected words, still wondering what had brought him here.
“Fine, fine.” He didn’t seem to be thinking of them. “I guess you’re wondering what brought me here.”
She was, but it didn’t seem polite to say so. “Anyone of the Leit is always wilkom here. Everyone has been so kind since James’s passing.”
“A sad thing,” he said. “In a way, you might say that’s what brought me here. It’s about the store.”
Beth looked at him blankly. She supposed his family sometimes shopped at the store. Most of the community did, but she didn’t recall seeing them.
“Your share of the store, I should say.” He propped one foot on the step, the movement making him closer to her than she liked.
“I’ve been thinking that it must be difficult for you, having your husband’s funds tied up in the business. Probably doesn’t leave you and your boy much to get along with.”
