by Marta Perry
Beth caught the sideways flicker of her eyes toward Benjy and realized she meant in private.
“For sure. We were just getting some vegetables for supper. Benjy, will you bring one of the small baskets and pick a few things for Grossmammi to take home?”
He nodded vigorously and dashed off to the shed for a basket.
“I’m sorry,” Beth began, not sure how to apologize for correcting Benjy in front of her.
But Sarah spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ve given Benjy too many treats. I know that’s not good for him.”
She hadn’t expected an admission from her mother-in-law, and she didn’t know how to handle it. “Well, I... I’ve noticed he doesn’t eat his meals properly if he’s had too many treats.” She’d have called it junk food, but that would probably insult Sarah, who always had a stash of candy bars in her pantry.
“You’re right, I know. It’s a bad habit of mine.” Sarah paused for a moment, apparently thinking of something she wanted to say. “I was thinking...”
“What is it, Sarah?” Beth gestured toward the back porch. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
Sarah nodded, following her to the porch swing, where they settled to watch Benjy searching through the garden with his basket.
Sarah cleared her throat. “It was so nice of you to let me have Benjy every Wednesday afternoon.” She sounded so reluctant that Beth couldn’t guess what was coming.
“But I was thinking that there’s not much for an active little boy to do at my house.”
Beth had the horrified idea that he’d broken something his grandmother valued. “If he broke something—”
“No, no.” Sarah actually smiled. “He’s fine. I just wanted to say that maybe he’d enjoy it more if I came over here instead of having him come to my place. My friend Alice was saying...you know Alice King...that lively little boys need to be outside playing or helping, not sitting in the house coloring pictures.” She smiled ruefully. “Alice has twelve grandchildren, so she knows.”
Beth nodded, relaxing. She’d half expected there was a criticism coming, but it seemed not.
“I think that would be very nice. And I could work in the afternoon or do my shopping without worrying about Benjy.”
Sarah relaxed, as well. “That’s gut. I want to be helpful.” She watched Benjy, choosing a tomato for her. “I’ve been thinking so much about...about James.”
Her voice shook a little, and Beth clasped her hand.
“I’m afraid I spoiled James a bit when he was little. Being the only one. But I don’t want to make the same mistake with Benjy.”
It was almost as if she were apologizing to Beth about James, and she wasn’t quite sure what to say.
Finally, when the silence grew too long, she patted Sarah’s hand. “Denke, Sarah. We’ll work together on that, yah?”
Sarah smiled. “We will.”
“Maybe sometimes Alice could come over with you and bring one of her grandchildren. It would be nice for Benjy to have someone to play with.”
“Yah, that’s a gut idea,” Sarah said. “It’s not right for Benjy to be an only child.” She stopped for a breath. “I just wanted you to know that if the time comes that you want to marry again, I’d be happy for you.”
That took Beth’s breath away. She wouldn’t have expected that from Sarah, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Sarah might have heard rumors about James’s flirting.
She chose her words carefully. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon, but even if it should, you would always be Benjy’s grossmammi.”
Maybe it was good that Benjy came hurrying toward them, the basket bouncing against his legs. Anything else said between them would probably result in tears.
She patted Sarah’s hand and stood up to rescue the basket. “Denke,” she said softly, meaning it with all her heart. Sarah had just given her a gift, and she wouldn’t forget it.
* * *
Beth arrived at the store ready to work Monday morning, leaving Benjy with her niece Janie. It was a sunny, brisk morning, and she’d heard them planning to rake leaves. In her experience, jumping in the piles they made would probably leave the yard looking about the same as it had been, but it would keep them busy and happy.
To her surprise, Timothy was running the checkout, something he didn’t usually do. She spotted Daniel back at the meat counter helping a customer, but there was no sign of Anna.
Removing her sweater, she hurried to the counter. “Do you need me to take over for you? Where’s Anna?”
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at the same time. “I don’t know. She just didn’t show up this morning, so Onkel Daniel trusted me with the checkout.” He grinned, obviously pleased at what he probably thought was a promotion.
“I’ll go and see where he wants me to work.”
Timothy’s customer asked him something just then, so not waiting for an answer, she went back to where Daniel was wrapping a chuck roast for one of the Stoltzfus cousins. Emma smiled, asked her how she was, and then took her package and went off without waiting for an answer. Used to her ways, Beth just smiled and looked at Daniel.
“I understand we’re shorthanded today. Have you heard anything about Anna?”
Stripping off the gloves he’d worn to cut the beef, Daniel shook his head. “Not a word from her. No one has called, but then Hiram probably wouldn’t.”
“No, I suppose not.” Anna’s father was extremely conservative and boasted that he’d never used a telephone. “She wasn’t at worship yesterday.”
“Maybe she’s sick.” Daniel looked more concerned than she’d have expected. “I’d think they could have sent a message.”
“I should have asked her mother about it after worship, but I was busy.” She’d been busy talking to him, in fact. She’d thought they’d cleared the air between them, but Daniel seemed restrained this morning.
After the way Elijah had behaved, talking as if a deal was settled between them, she felt a strong urge to tell Daniel that she had no intention of selling out to Elijah. Despite the difficulties that had arisen between her and Daniel, she really wanted to keep things exactly as they were.
She almost spoke, but she was deterred by the fact that she’d asked Daad to look into Elijah’s offer. She shouldn’t decide without listening to him.
Daniel still seemed withdrawn, or maybe he was just worrying about Anna and how to run the store shorthanded on what was usually a busy day.
“What do you want me to do?”
Daniel was quiet for a moment, his forehead knotted in thought. Or worry. Finally he looked at her.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like it if you could go over to the Fishers’ place and check on Anna.”
“Go there,” she repeated. “But don’t you need me here? I’m sure we’d have heard if there were something seriously wrong with Anna.”
“We can handle things here.” His face set stubbornly. “I’d go myself, but a woman is much more likely to get answers.”
In the face of his obvious concern, there was nothing she could do but agree.
“All right. I’ll go this afternoon if Janie can stay with Benjy.”
Daniel was already shaking his head. “Look, I can’t explain, but I think something’s wrong. Anna...” He stopped, and then he started again. “She hasn’t been herself recently. You’re the right person to do it, Beth.”
There was an odd but compelling emphasis in his voice that Beth found contagious. Anna had been odd—almost in tears when Beth invited her to the cider-pressing.
“All right. I’ll go back to the house and get the mare harnessed. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Now that she’d decided, Beth found she was hurrying down the lane. Common sense told her that this was an unnecessary trip, but the more she thought about Anna’
s behavior, the odder it was.
Benjy came running when he saw her. “Mammi, are you going to help us rake leaves?”
She looked over his head to Janie and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I have to get Daisy harnessed up and do an errand. You do a gut job with Janie, yah?”
He pouted a bit, but before he could say anything, Janie had caught his hands and swung him around. “Let’s see who makes the biggest pile of leaves.”
Beth hurried on to the small barn. It was a matter of minutes to hitch Daisy to the small buggy, and she was on her way. She’d picked up the sense of urgency from Daniel, so she let Daisy trot out quickly. The mare was eager to move on such a brisk morning, so they were through town and on their way to the Fisher farm without problems.
Once Beth had left town behind, she started wondering what kind of reception she’d get. Daniel had been right in saying that she’d have a better chance at getting in than him. Etta Fisher knew her fairly well, although they weren’t close friends. Etta’s husband didn’t seem to encourage her to share in the quiltings and work frolics that the other women did.
All she could do, it seemed to her, was to be honest. She was concerned because Anna didn’t come to work today and had missed worship. If there was anything she could do...
As she turned into the lane to the Fisher place, she pulled up Daisy to focus on a prayer that her words would be guided and that she’d be able to help Anna. She’d like to pray that Hiram wouldn’t be home, but that didn’t seem quite right.
She drew up at the hitching rail outside the run-down farmhouse. Hiram must feel it would be prideful to paint his house and outbuildings. Climbing down, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Nothing showed at any of the windows, and for a moment she thought no one was home.
Then she heard slow footsteps coming to the door. It swung open. Etta stared at her for a moment.
Summoning up her courage, she said, “I’ve come to see Anna. We were worried when she didn’t come—”
Etta interrupted her by seizing her by the arm and pulling her in. She looked down the road and then shut the door. “Hiram is at the sawmill.” She said the words as if it explained her actions.
Beth tried to focus. “Is Anna all right? I should have asked you about her when I saw she wasn’t in church.”
Etta shook her head. “She wouldn’t go. She won’t do anything. She just sits in her room and cries.”
“I... I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, I’m happy to.” What could be wrong with the child? A few dark possibilities crept into her mind and were chased out again.
“Denke, Beth.” Etta clutched her arm. “Maybe she’ll come out for you.” Her face worked as she tried to control herself. “I’m at my wit’s end.”
Fearing she wasn’t up to this mission, Beth followed Anna’s mother up the dark stairs to the upper hall that was equally dark. Etta gestured toward a door.
“That’s Anna’s room. If you can get her to talk...” Her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Beth. Please try.”
Chapter Fourteen
Taking a deep breath, Beth tapped at the door. “Anna? It’s Beth. May I come in?”
A muffled sob was the only answer.
Etta reached around her to turn the knob. The door swung open and Etta practically pushed her into the room.
Anna was curled up in a ball on the bed. She glanced up and then promptly hid her face.
But that look was enough for Beth. Anna’s face was pale and drawn, as if she hadn’t been eating, and her skin was blotchy from crying. Red-rimmed eyes had glanced briefly at Beth before Anna clamped them shut as if she couldn’t bear to see.
Beth’s heart cramped at the sight. The poor girl—whatever had happened, she desperately needed to have someone on her side. She probably wasn’t the answer Anna needed, but she had to try.
Sinking down on the bed next to Anna, Beth put her arms around the girl, ignoring Anna’s wince into herself. “Hush now, Anna. It’s going to be all right. You don’t need to worry. I’m here.”
They were the simple phrases she used with Benjy—probably the very ones her mother had used with her. They might not make a lot of sense, especially since she didn’t know what was wrong, but they soothed. So often in recent months she’d longed to feel someone’s arms around her and to hear someone whisper that it was all right.
She kept on patting Anna’s back, repeating the soothing words over and over. Gradually the hysterical weeping lessened. Beth wrapped her arms more closely around her. “It’s all right. Just tell me what’s happened.”
Another strangled sob sounded. “I’m sorry,” Anna whispered, seeming unable to make any louder noise. “I’m sorry, Beth. I’m so sorry.”
Beth began to be exasperated. If Anna couldn’t tell her anything, how could she help her?
“Komm now, Anna. Tell me what’s wrong. Can you sit up here beside me and talk?”
Anna nodded, so Beth helped her to sit up. There, that was a step in the right direction.
“That’s better. It’s going to be all right. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Anna tried to speak, but her voice broke on a sob. “I never wanted you to know. I never wanted anyone to know. He said no one would ever know.”
He. The word set up a faint train of thought, misty and unclear, but frightening.
“Everyone will hate me.” Anna’s voice was stronger.
Beth sensed it would all come out now, and fear gripped her. It wasn’t too late. She could run away, pretend she didn’t know...
But she couldn’t. There was no sense in hiding from the truth.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who wrote to James.” The words weren’t an accusation. They were a statement of fact.
“You know?” Anna raised horrified eyes to her. “How did you know? He said no one would ever know.”
Oh, James, how could you? Anna is a sixteen-year-old child. What were you thinking?
But she knew the answer to that, didn’t she? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been scattering his careless charm over anyone female, and this time it had exploded in his face.
“I found a note in James’s drawer. It was probably the last one you wrote—about meeting you in the usual place.” She ought to feel rage, but instead all she felt was grief, both for Anna and for herself. “What was the usual place?”
Anna mopped her eyes, but she avoided looking at Beth. “That...that old schoolhouse. Down on Owl Hollow Road. We...we thought no one would see us there. But that night he didn’t come, and I had to go home.” A sob interrupted her. “The next day I heard...”
Anna didn’t want to finish that thought, and neither did Beth.
Another sob burst from Anna. “I was just so unhappy. And when he smiled at me, it made me feel better.”
“So you started meeting in secret.” She couldn’t help the edge to her words.
“You don’t think—” Anna’s eyes opened wide. “It was never anything. Just talking, and sometimes he gave me a hug. He kissed me two times.” She put her hand on her cheek, as if cherishing it. “But it was wrong, and now you’ll hate me. Everyone will know, and I’ll be under the bann, and Daadi will be so angry...”
“Hush, hush a minute.” Everyone would know. Anna would be hurt, but she wasn’t the only one.
Everyone would talk, and she’d know they were talking about her, pitying her. Sarah would find out about the son she adored. How could she even survive that? And worst of all, Benjy would know. He wouldn’t understand, not now, but he’d be aware that his daadi had done something shameful. Someday he’d understand, and that would be even worse.
In all her initial need to know who the woman was, she’d never considered how that would come about and what damage it would do. If only she could see another way...
She studied Anna, who had
lapsed back into misery again. Anna would never be able to keep quiet about it. She had confessed because she couldn’t go on, and her conscience would force her to complete the act and confess to the church.
Beth rubbed her forehead, feeling a band tighten around it as she tried to see a way out. Maybe...maybe there was a way to do the least harm possible.
“Anna, listen to me. Can you keep quiet about this a little longer now that you’ve told me?”
“But I have to confess, and then the whole church will know. And Daadi will be so angry...”
For an instant she wanted to shake the girl and shake Hiram Fisher, as well.
“I know. Just another day, to give me time to think this out. That’s not too much, is it?”
She couldn’t see any hope in Anna’s face, but at least she didn’t look quite so miserable.
“I’ll try, if you say so.”
“Gut.” She didn’t have a plan, and she certain sure hadn’t dealt with her own feelings, but she saw a glimmer of hope. “Now, listen. I want to tell your mother that you’re feeling better, and you’re going to come to work tomorrow, all right?”
Anna seemed to shrink. “How could I? Everyone would be looking at me.”
“You can work in the storeroom, if you want. Just do this for me, and I’ll try to help you. All right?”
She sniffled a little, but then she nodded. “Denke, Beth. Daniel said I should tell you the truth, and he was right. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Daniel. So Daniel had known, and he hadn’t told her.
Beth pushed that into the back of her mind to be dealt with later. She had enough to handle right now.
“Now you go and wash your face and freshen up. I’m going to talk to your mother, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the store.” She hesitated, fearing Anna would slump back into despair the instant she was gone. “Anna, I forgive you. And I’m sure God forgives you. It’s going to be all right.”
“I don’t... I don’t deserve that.”
“Never mind that. Just do as I say. It will be all right.”
She hoped. At the moment all she wanted was to be alone so that she could think all of this out. The important thing now was to handle it in a way that would hurt as few people as possible. She would deal with her own pain later.
