by Marta Perry
* * *
The day seemed to drag by after Beth left, despite how busy they were. Daniel longed for Beth’s return and dreaded it at the same time.
If she succeeded in seeing Anna, she probably knew the truth about Anna and James by now. And she’d also know that Anna had told him and that he’d kept silent.
It had been the right thing to do, hadn’t it? It was far better for Anna to confess to the person she’d wronged. Beth would be more likely to believe and forgive if she heard it from Anna.
Where did that leave him? Beth, with her tender heart, would most likely forgive Anna, but it was less likely that she’d forgive him. He might very well have lost her forever.
The Monday morning press of customers had eased off abruptly, and the store was silent except for Timothy dragging a carton across the floor. Daniel planted his hands on the counter and leaned on them, head down, pain dragging at him. He didn’t see a good outcome from this for anyone, and he feared he’d be a good long while forgiving James for leaving such a mess to be cleaned up.
Daniel jerked out of his painful thoughts at the sound of footsteps behind him. Beth had come in the back door, and a glance through the side window told him that her horse and buggy were parked at the hitching rail.
He forced himself to meet her eyes, afraid of what he’d see there. He didn’t find the anger he’d expected, not now at least. Beth seemed distracted, as if she were trying to figure something out.
Unable to stand the silence, he spoke. “Were you able to see her?”
Beth focused on him. “I saw her. She was shut up in her room weeping, but I finally got her talking. So far her parents don’t know anything, and I convinced her not to say anything about it until I’d had a chance to decide how to handle this.”
“Do you think you can rely on that?” Anna didn’t strike him as someone who’d be able to keep a secret. Still, she’d done it this long.
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead, her face pale against the black brim of the bonnet she’d worn for the drive. “I hope so. I told Etta that it was a misunderstanding. That she’d made a mistake, and she thought we were blaming her, but we’re not.”
She caught his look, and her eyes snapped. “I didn’t lie,” she said. “With that father of hers, it will be better if this isn’t generally known.”
Daniel frowned, feeling his head begin to hurt just as much as hers probably did. “I don’t see how you’re going to manage that. Anna won’t be able to forgive herself until she’s made it right, and that means confessing.”
Beth’s anger seemed to spark. “And what will happen if she confesses before the church? Everyone will know, and a lot of people will be hurt. Think of Sarah, learning that about her son. She’s already at the point that she’ll never stop grieving. I can’t do that to her. And think of Benjy.”
“And you.” Daniel added the words in a soft voice. “Do you think I don’t realize that? You’ll be hurt twice over by what James did.”
Should he have laid the blame so firmly on James? He couldn’t help believing that James was the most culpable. He was a grown man, and Anna was just an impressionable child, longing to idolize anyone who was kind to her.
Beth seemed to shrug that off. “I’m wondering what would happen if I went to see the bishop with Anna. After all, they didn’t...commit adultery.” She struggled with the word, and he saw her wince with pain. “Maybe he’d agree to a private confession and penalty.”
He considered. What she said was true, in a way. This wouldn’t, he thought, rise to the level of a kneeling confession in front of the whole Leit. With the bishop’s agreement, she might be able to minimize the backlash hurting innocent people.
“Can you really do that, Beth? Can you go to the bishop and listen to the story all over again?”
She shrugged. “It’s the least I can do, don’t you think? She’s hardly more than a child. James...well, James should have known better.”
That was putting it mildly, he thought. “Do you want me to go with you and Anna?”
Her anger flashed again. “Why would you do that? Because Anna confessed to you, and you didn’t tell me?”
He met her eyes steadily. “You’re angry with me.”
“Don’t I have a reason? You could have told me this. I trusted you.”
“Yah, I could have told you. But I thought it would be better for Anna if she confessed to you herself. That’s why I pushed you into going over there today.”
He saw her absorb his reasoning, but he didn’t see any indication that she agreed with it.
After a moment, Beth shook her head irritably. “Anna is coming in to work tomorrow. I thought she should be out of the house. I’ll try to talk to Bishop Thomas before that to find out when he can see us.”
He nodded. There didn’t seem to be any answer to make. Beth was facing a painful situation, and she wouldn’t let him help her. He’d forfeited that right.
There was no hope left for them, but that didn’t change his feelings. He would love her forever.
* * *
Beth went home, feeling as if she’d like to get into bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. It couldn’t be done. She had a son to take care of, and she must contact the bishop and set up a time to see him tomorrow.
That was easier said than done. She’d have to call and leave a message on the bishop’s answering machine and hope he’d check it sometime soon. And she’d have to put enough urgency into her voice so that he’d see them tomorrow. She didn’t think Anna could contain herself any longer than that.
As she neared the house, Benjy came running toward her. “Mammi, Mammi! You should see the big pile of leaves we made.”
Beth hugged him, holding him close a bit longer than usual and inhaling the sweet little boy scent. When he wiggled to be free, she let him go reluctantly.
“Show me your leaf pile.”
He looked confused for a minute, glancing around as if he thought to see it right next to him.
Janie giggled, and he started to giggle, too.
“We jumped in it too many times, didn’t we, Benjy?” Janie caught his hand and swung it back and forth. “But it was lots and lots of fun.”
“Yah, it was.” He seemed satisfied. “We could make another one.”
Beth touched his cheek lightly. “I have to make a phone call first. And maybe we should get something to eat.”
“Grossdaadi is going to pick me up,” Janie said. “He wanted me to tell you that he’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.”
She nodded. He must have looked into the possibility of selling. She’d about decided to forget it, but she’d been so tied up today that she’d have to rethink the whole question.
Benjy tugged on Janie’s hand. “Doesn’t Grossdaadi want to talk to me?”
“I’m sure he does,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go fix a snack while Mammi is making her phone call.”
In a few minutes, Beth was walking back from the phone shanty. If she’d sounded as desperate as she felt, Bishop Thomas would probably want to see her immediately.
When she got in the house, she realized it was well past lunchtime and she hadn’t even noticed it. Janie caught her dismayed look at the clock and shook her head, smiling.
“It’s all right. Benjy and I had our lunch already. We’ll have some cider and cookies now. Can I fix something for you?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said quickly, afraid she wouldn’t succeed if she tried to eat something now. “I’ll wait and see if your grandfather wants something.”
Janie seemed to be studying her, catching on to the fact that she wasn’t as usual. She’d always been a sensitive child, concerned for others, and now she’d added a maturity to it that was very attractive.
She was only a year younger than Anna. The comparison made her stomach turn over.
>
“So sorry I was late getting back today. I hope it didn’t mess up any plans.” She managed a smile.
“No, nothing at all.” Janie glanced to the window. “Ach, here’s Grossdaadi.” She gulped down the rest of her cider. “Let’s go say hi.”
Benjy bolted from his seat. “I want to tie up the horse.” The screen door slammed behind him.
Beth forced herself to her feet, feeling about a hundred years old. But before she could get outside, her father had come in. He caught her in a hug.
“Sit down, sit down. You look tired.”
“I guess I am, a little. Do you want coffee?” She turned to the stove, but he shook his head.
“I’ll have some cider. Sit down.”
Taking it as an order, she sank into the chair. Daadi poured a glass for each of them.
“How did you convince Benjy not to come in with you?” she asked.
“I said he could help Janie drive the buggy up and down the lane. Don’t worry about them. Janie is a good, responsible girl.”
“Yah, she is. I was just thinking that.” She hesitated. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Daad gave a brisk nod and brushed his hand against his full, brownish-red beard. “I looked into this business of Elijah wanting to buy into the store.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to speak ill of someone in the church, but I think you’d do better to look for someone else if you want to sell. He has a reputation for cutting corners and not treating his employees very well. What does Daniel think?”
Daniel’s name was like a sensitive spot on her skin. She tried to collect herself. “He wants me to do whatever is best for me and Benjy. But he did make it clear that he’d hate to be partners with Elijah.”
“And what about you? Do you want to sell?”
Beth thought of everything that had happened in the past weeks. She’d enjoyed working in the store, and it had given her a sense of accomplishment. Her feelings for Daniel had grown, to be honest with herself. But she wasn’t sure any longer. Could she go on working with him every day? She certainly couldn’t decide when she didn’t know what was going to happen with Anna and the bishop.
“I don’t know.” She struggled for words, but before she could find any, Daad had given a brisk nod.
“Well, then, you shouldn’t decide. And that’s a gut way to turn Elijah down. If you do decide later, you should take your time and look at all the possibilities.”
It made the most sense of anything she’d been thinking. “Denke, Daadi. I think that’s what is best, too.”
“That’s settled, then. Do you want me to speak to Elijah for you?”
She’d love to say yes, but that probably wasn’t befitting a grown woman who was partner in a business. “No, I’ll take care of it. Denke.”
“Gut.” He stood up. “Now I will take Janie and Benjy home with me for supper, and we’ll bring him back at bedtime. In the meanwhile, you have a nice rest.”
She followed him, protesting. “You don’t need to do that.”
“We want to,” he said, watching as Benjy drove the buggy back to them with Janie’s hands hovering over his on the lines. “Rest now. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
No, she didn’t. And she was truly blessed to have such a loving family to help her.
Chapter Fifteen
Beth had thought to be at work early the next day, but by the time she’d seen Benjy off to her brother Eli’s house to spend the day, she had to hurry down the lane to the store. She didn’t know what her family knew or guessed, but without any questions or advice, they had rallied around.
When Daadi had brought Benjy back at supper time, he’d also brought a meal, still warm and ready to be put on the table. And with it he’d brought an invitation for Benjy to spend the day with his cousins. She had nearly cried with gratitude.
If you don’t know what else to do for someone in time of trouble, you can pray and take food. That’s never the wrong thing to do.
Her mother’s oft-repeated advice made her smile, despite the fact that she’d assumed this day would include nothing to smile about. Her very practical mother had it right. The warm supper had comforted her, and with Benjy off having fun with his cousins today, she didn’t need to fear that he’d hear something he shouldn’t.
Beth shivered a little, wrapping her sweater more tightly around her. The morning breeze was colder, sweeping along the lane and stripping leaves from the trees. Autumn seemed to be passing faster than ever, or was it just that she was a year older?
And a year wiser? She thought back over the events of recent months, unsure as to whether wiser was the right word. Certainly she’d had her eyes opened, but it was too soon to know if she’d learned something.
Going in the back entrance, she listened for voices. The only one she heard was that of Timothy, irrepressible as always, teasing Daniel about something.
What if Anna didn’t come? The bishop had responded to her call, suggesting she and Anna come between ten and twelve this morning. If he’d been curious as to what brought the two of them to seek his advice, he hadn’t betrayed it in his voice.
If Anna didn’t show up... Well, she didn’t know what she ought to do. Shaking off the question, she hung up her sweater and bonnet and told herself to stop borrowing trouble. She had enough worries without jumping ahead to create more. Anna was probably here already, wondering where she was.
Smoothing her apron down, Beth marched from the office to the store, uttering an inarticulate prayer and hardly knowing what to pray for.
She sent a quick searching glance around the store, but she didn’t find Anna. Her gaze caught Daniel’s, and he shook his head at her obvious query.
Beth felt flattened and her worries came back in force. If Anna had lost her nerve, Beth would have to think of some explanation for the bishop. If she’d told her parents, she supposed that Hiram would try to exact the full penalty of the church, and the whole ugly story would become public.
With a word to Timothy, Daniel came over to her. “She hasn’t come in yet, and I haven’t heard from her. Have you heard anything?”
Beth shook her head. She tried to remember to treat him coolly, but she was too worried, and Daniel was the only one she could talk to.
“Not since yesterday. We can see Bishop Tom this morning between ten and twelve. If she doesn’t show up, I’m not sure what to do.”
Daniel touched her hand lightly—a barely felt brush of a leaf. “Try not to worry. She may well be here before then. If not, we’ll figure out what to do.”
She ought to resent his effort to include himself, but she couldn’t help being relieved to feel she wasn’t alone. “Denke.” She kept her voice low, seeing Timothy approaching.
“You want me to put the Open sign up, Onkel Daniel?” His gaze slipped from one to the other of them, obviously wondering, but at least not asking what was going on.
“Yah, go ahead. Then you can take the checkout.”
Timothy made a slight grimace at his uncle’s directions, but he didn’t say anything. When he walked off to unlock the door, Beth gave Daniel a questioning glance.
“What does he have against checking customers out?”
Daniel attempted to smile. “I think it gives less time to talk to any girls who happen to come in. What his mother would say, I don’t know.”
“I can certainly take it. Having something to occupy my mind will help.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather work in the office? You can update the orders. If... When Anna shows up, I’ll send her in.”
Actually, that did sound better. It might be difficult to talk to customers when her mind was skittering from one thing to another like a water bug on a pond.
“All right.” She hesitated, feeling as if there were something else she should say but not finding the words. Finally, she gave him a meanin
gless smile and hurried off to the office.
Closing the office door behind her, Beth let out a long breath. Daniel had been right. She needed four walls around her, protecting her from any curious glances.
If Anna didn’t come... She slammed the question down. She’d cope with that if and when it happened. Right now, she was better off concentrating on facts and figures.
She’d made her way through one column of figures and started another when the office door creaked. Anna crept in, wrapping a shawl around her and sliding along the wall as if to remain invisible.
Beth hadn’t realized how much she’d feared that Anna wouldn’t show up. Relief made her feel weak for a moment.
“I’m glad you’re here, Anna. Are you all right?”
Anna nodded, but her face was so sallow she looked as if she wanted to disappear into the woodwork. “The bishop?”
Beth stood. “He’ll see us this morning. We should leave in about forty-five minutes.” She rounded the desk and took Anna’s arm. “We’ll have coffee before we go. That will make you feel better.”
It could hardly make her worse. At the moment she looked as if she’d pass out at an unkind word.
Putting her arm around the girl, she led her next door to the break room. Guiding her to a chair, she pushed Anna into it and started making the coffee.
This might be a little easier if they talked, but she couldn’t find anything to say. The main thing between them loomed like an enormous barricade that might collapse on them at a careless word.
She’d have to find a way to talk before they reached Bishop Tom, or they’d sit there staring at each other.
* * *
Beth and Anna arrived at Bishop Thomas Braun’s wheelwright workshop, with Beth relieved to see that no other buggies were pulled up in the lane. Bishop Tom’s services were in demand, since wheelwrights were few and far between. She remembered her grandmother telling her once that some folks were dismayed when the lot fell on Thomas Braun, calling him to the ministry. Some had feared he wouldn’t be able to do both jobs.
