by Ruth Reid
“I’ll be his friend.” Stephen took the toy and hugged it.
“That’s very nice of Caleb,” Jonica said. “What do you say, Stephen?”
“Danki, Caleb.”
“You’re welkum.”
As Stephen played with the stuffed toy, Jonica stepped away from the bed, motioning Caleb with a nod to follow her over to the window. “He might go home tomorrow.”
“Did the doktah say what’s wrong?”
“He has von Willebrand disease. It causes abnormal bleeding due to missing or damaged clotting factors. I don’t know all the particulars of the disease, only that Dr. Yarbrough said Stephen could live an active life. He just needs to be careful.” She grabbed Caleb’s hands without thinking and gave them a squeeze. “Can you believe what God has done! He answered mei prayer.”
“That’s wunderbaar news.”
She followed his gaze to their hands, then pulled hers back. “I’m sorry. I, um . . . was overly excited.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He took her hands into his. “I want you to celebrate your gut news with me. What God has done. It’s a blessing for me too.” His eyes glossed over and he clamped his lips together.
Watching Caleb’s reaction, Jonica’s emotions bubbled to the surface. There was no one she’d rather share the news with, celebrate with, than Caleb.
Stephen giggled.
Jonica jerked her hands free from Caleb’s. Heat rushed up her neck to her face. She didn’t need to ask her son what he was giggling about; he’d been watching them.
Caleb crossed the room and sat on the corner of Stephen’s bed. “Have you decided on a name for your pup?”
“Rusty.”
“That’s a gut name.”
“Do you like mei mamm?”
“Stephen!” Jonica rasped. “That isn’t something you—I apologize.”
Caleb chuckled. “I like your mamm a lot, Stephen. Is that okay with you?”
Stephen nodded. “Can I get a real dog?”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask your mamm.” He stood. “I need to go. I promised to bring mei mamm a cup of kaffi. I am very glad to see you are doing better. You take care of Rusty.”
Jonica followed Caleb to the door and lowered her voice. “You know he’s going to needle me about getting a dog nau.”
Caleb grinned. “I know where we can get him a puppy.”
Jonica furrowed her brows and pinned him with the sternest glare she could muster despite his adorable lopsided smirk. “Nay.”
“Hmm. I suppose that’s a topic for another time.”
Jonica laughed. She loved that she and Caleb could joke around. It felt good to laugh again.
“Caleb,” Stephen said, stopping him as he turned to leave. “Will you kumm back to see me again?”
“Absolutely.” Caleb winked at Jonica. “As long as Mamm is agreeable.”
“You’re putting me on the spot again, aren’t you?”
Caleb nodded. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 25
Jonica hadn’t seen Caleb since Stephen was discharged from the hospital. Three days ago. She understood he had extra chores to do at home with his father still on the mend, but knowing that didn’t stop her from missing him or constantly looking out the window in hopes of seeing his horse and buggy pull into the driveway.
Edna shuffled into the kitchen. “Is Stephen’s condition contagious?”
“Nay. He has a blood disease.” Jonica gave the abbreviated version. She’d already explained to her aunt, in great detail, what the doctor had said—multiple times.
“A boy his age shouldn’t be cooped up in the haus all day. He should be outside playing.”
“Jah, I agree, but he’s still recovering.”
“How long does it take to recover from a nosebleed?” Her aunt lifted her brows. “He isn’t wearing a bandage on his hand or his nose for that matter. The cut looks to be healed.”
Jonica nodded. “You’re right. He does need some fresh air.”
“Gut.” Aenti Edna stepped around the corner to the entryway. “You can go.”
Go. Who was Aenti talking to? Stephen? The front door opened and closed before Jonica could move the pan of sliced onions she’d been sautéing in butter off the stove and get to the front entry.
“He’ll be allrecht,” Aenti said. “He promised to stay in the yard.”
Jonica scanned the wall hooks for Stephen’s coat and the mat on the floor for his boots. Both were gone. “How did he dress so quickly?”
Her aunt ignored the question and swept her hand over her apron as if something had spilled on it.
“Aenti,” Jonica scolded.
“I helped him. But he didn’t go outside until you agreed about him needing fresh air. You’ll stunt that boy’s growth if he doesn’t get some exercise.”
Jonica disagreed but remained silent. She yanked the door and stuck her head outside. Stephen was going down the porch steps, his forearm stretched across the railing, removing the newly fallen snow as he went. “Stephen,” she said. “Stay where I can see you.”
“Okay.” He bent down, scooped a handful of snow, and packed it with his hands.
“And don’t throw snowballs at the haus.”
“Okay.” He continued to shape the snow into a ball.
The scent of caramelizing onions sent Jonica hurrying back into the kitchen. She gave the translucent onions a stir in the brown butter, the pungent aroma filling her senses, reminding her of the meals she’d made with her mother. Following her mother’s recipe, she removed the onions from the pan and placed them in a bowl to add later. Next, she dipped the thinly sliced pieces of liver in buttermilk, then coated them with biscuit mix. Liver and onions had always been one of her favorite meals, but she’d based the meal decision on Stephen. Liver was a good source of iron, something he’d been low on in the hospital.
Jonica placed a pot of peeled potatoes on the stove and tossed in a generous pinch of salt. Then she added a few tablespoons of lard to the buttery pan she used to cook the onions. She added the meat to the splattering grease, and soon smoke drifted upward.
Jonica opened the kitchen window as much to filter out some of the smoke as to keep an ear on Stephen. She stood at the window a moment, watching Stephen who was on his knees rolling a tire-size snowball that was matted with dead leaves. He needed a friend. As an only child herself, she’d often felt alone, isolated on the farm. Though she had her parents, her grandparents, and Aenti Edna growing up, she longed for sewing frolics and get-togethers where she’d be around other children her age.
When Faith suggested getting the boys together, Jonica had squelched the idea for selfish reasons. Now, something told her Faith’s Daniel would be a perfect playmate for Stephen. The boys were close enough in age, and Stephen needed a friend.
Sputtering grease pulled Jonica away from the window. She flipped the meat over in the pan to fry the other side.
“I don’t know.” Stephen’s voice filtered through the open window.
“You could make a snow fort,” the man said.
Caleb? Excitement bubbled up within Jonica, then fizzled just as fast when she spotted Mr. Jordan outside the window.
The older man went down on his knees. “Can I help?”
“Jah!”
Jonica watched the two of them stacking snow together several minutes. She wished it were Caleb and Stephen working together.
“Do you still have the bird?” Stephen asked.
The Englischer removed the small feathered bird from his coat pocket. “He’s getting bigger, isn’t he?”
“Does he miss his mamm and daed?”
“He will see them again in the spring. Until then, it’s my job to watch over him.”
“I wish I had a daed.” Stephen picked a leaf off the mound of snow and twirled it around by its stem. “I asked God for one.”
“Your Father in heaven has heard your prayers. Who do you think planted that desire in your heart? It was God.”
“All things work together for His purpose.”
Jonica pushed away from the counter and marched to the door. She couldn’t let Mr. Jordan encourage Stephen to hang his hope on the impossible. In the end Stephen could become angry with God. She didn’t want her son confusing the Englischer’s words. Just because Stephen desired a daed, didn’t mean that would happen. He had a father—his heavenly Father.
* * *
“Don’t leave yet,” Mamm said as Caleb reached for the doorknob. “I have some things I need you to do.”
Caleb took a second to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Mamm had kept him busy around the house the last few days, and now she was finding something else to prevent him from seeing Jonica. “What do you need me to do?”
“The garbage needs to go out to the burn pile. The bucket of scraps next to the sink can be taken out and fed to the pigs . . .” She twisted her lips. Probably thinking of more little projects to tie up his time.
“The horse stalls should be mucked out. Your daed cleans them out at least once a week.”
“I’ve already done them.” He grabbed the half-filled bag of trash from the canister with one hand and the scrap bucket in the other. Before she found more things to add to the never-ending to-do list, he headed to the door.
“I also need you to pick up pumpkins from the Millers.”
He drew another deep breath and let it out.
“Unless you don’t want pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.”
“Jah, okay.” He took another step toward the door and stopped. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Oh?”
“You’re intentionally finding things to keep me busy around the haus. Why?” He figured it had something to do with Jonica, but maybe if she admitted her role in preoccupying his time, she would realize how silly it all was.
“Is it wrong for me to want a few things done around the haus?”
“Nay.” He lifted the trash bag and gave it a light shake. “Taking out a half-full bag seems wasteful to me.”
“Well, I don’t want it stinking up the haus.”
“I think you don’t want me visiting Jonica and Stephen.”
“You said Stephen was released from the hospital. So, he’s better.” She turned, picked up the dishrag, and wiped down the area of the counter where the bucket had been.
“He has a bleeding disorder. Von Willebrand disease. I want to check on him.”
“And his mother.”
“Jah, Jonica too.” His mother had interfered with him courting Darleen, but not to this extent. Her shoulders were shaking and she was weeping. He set the bucket and trash bag on the floor and joined her at the sink. “Mamm, I’ll do everything I can to help around the haus. But I also need . . . space.”
She nodded. “I know you’ll do everything you can. You’ve always been mei thoughtful sohn.”
He smiled. She meant well, but his mother had a way of heaping guilt on him. Standing in front of the sink, Caleb glimpsed a buggy pulling into the driveway. “Someone’s here to visit Daed.”
Mamm dried her eyes. “Go see who it is.”
Once again, Caleb grabbed the items his mother wanted discarded. He wanted no reason to come back into the house. After he took out the trash and fed the pigs, he planned to see Jonica. Maybe she and Stephen would like to go with him to pick up pumpkins.
“Hello, Caleb.” Bishop Zook walked toward him as Melvin Yoder tied the horse to the hitching post. “How is your daed?”
“He’s getting stronger every day.” He motioned to the haus. “Daed’s resting in the sitting room, and I’m sure Mamm has a fresh kettle of kaffi on the stove.”
Bishop Zook stepped forward. “We’ve kumm to talk with you, Caleb.”
A “we need to talk” visitation from the bishop was bad enough, but when he brought along a church elder, something was serious. Caleb had nothing to hide.
“I’m heading out to the barn to feed the hogs if you’d like to tag along.”
The bishop nodded. “That’ll be fine.”
Melvin said nothing, though Caleb understood the custom. The elder served as witness when accusations were made, when reprimands were given, or when someone was shunned. But Caleb hadn’t done anything wrong.
Caleb placed the rubbish in the burn barrel, then headed to the barn.
Bishop Zook held the door open. “How did your daed do with the cattle he sold?”
“He didn’t get the price he’d wanted, but considering the early snow and talk of a hard winter . . .” Caleb shrugged. “I think selling them was the right decision.” He tossed the slop over the fence. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“As you said yourself, it’s probably going to be a hard winter,” Bishop Zook said.
“Jah,” Caleb agreed.
“Your daed will need help.”
Caleb nodded. He still wasn’t sure what this talk was all about.
“Nett just around the farm. He will need help financially for medical bills and general living expenses,” Bishop Zook said.
The tightness in Caleb’s chest eased. His father had a tendency to be prideful when it came to accepting handouts. Even when his crops failed last year along with everyone else’s, he refused to take money from the district fund. Instead, his father gave what money he had so that no one went without. It’d been a struggle and his family had eaten a lot of meatless meals, but his father was grateful they hadn’t burdened the system more.
“I want to offer you a job,” Melvin said. “More than a job. Part ownership of the market.”
It made no sense. Why would Melvin give away part of his store?
“I’ve always thought you would be a gut asset to the business, and if you and Darleen marry—”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“I’m well aware that you two are no longer courting.” Melvin crossed his arms. “It’s admirable that you didn’t want to get married without having means to support a fraa and kinner. I’m offering you that ability.”
“Does Darleen know about this . . . arrangement?”
Melvin shook his head. “She doesn’t always know what’s best for her, which is why I’m making this arrangement for her. At twenty-two she should be settling down, and you two have been courting for a while nau.”
Stomach acid burned its way up the back of Caleb’s throat, but he remained calm and maintained an even tone. “So, this is a marriage of convenience?”
“We don’t have to look at it that way.” Bishop Zook placed his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “You will be happy with Darleen. She’s an upstanding member of our district, comes from a gut, God-fearing family, and will make a fine fraa.”
For someone else.
“Think about it,” Melvin said. “It’s in the best interest of everyone. You’ll have a gut—indoor—job with enough income to support Darleen, kinner, and have money left over to help your parents. They won’t have to worry about their future.”
“Nor should they have to worry at their age,” Bishop Zook said.
Caleb had always liked and respected Darleen’s father. He’d built a steady business but had spoiled his youngest daughter. Caleb just didn’t want to be the toy at the bottom of the cereal box.
Chapter 26
A horse’s neigh caught Jonica by surprise as she was loading her arms with firewood. Turning, she noticed Caleb’s buggy pulling into the yard. Excitement fluttered. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed spending time with him until she couldn’t control her quivering nerves and the tingling sensations the sight of him brought on.
“Hello, stranger.” Caleb strode toward her, favoring his right side.
She smiled. “Hello, yourself.” She motioned to his leg. “You’re still limping.”
He shrugged. “It’s getting better.” He gathered pieces of wood from the pile. “How’s Stephen feeling?”
“He’s doing great.” But something was troubling Cale
b. She hadn’t known him long, but he seemed different and she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“Nay more bleeding?”
“Thank the Lord, nay. How is your daed? I’ve been praying for him.”
“Danki for praying. Daed’s finding it difficult to rest. Some days he overdoes it and ends up a little winded, but overall his health is improving.”
“That’s gut to hear.” She picked up another slab of wood, and when she glanced at Caleb, he was gazing toward the wheat field with a quiet eeriness that told her something was heavy on his mind. “Everything allrecht?”
His attention flicked back to her. “What?”
“You had that far-off look in your eyes . . . as if the weight of the world had been placed on your shoulders.”
“First, I’m nett that strong.” He smiled.
“And second?”
His smile broadened. “Second, carrying the weight of the world is God’s job.”
“That doesn’t mean people don’t try.”
“And you speak from experience?” He lifted his brows.
“Jah, I think that’s a flaw of mine, and apparently nett just me.” She picked up another slab of wood, the weight heavy in her arms. “Would you like to kumm inside for kaffi? Stephen should be waking up from his nap soon. I’m sure he will want to see you.”
“Sounds gut.” He grabbed a few more slabs, the bundle high in his arms, blocking most of his face.
“Are you sure you can carry that much?”
“First you compliment mei strength and capability to carry the weight of the world on mei shoulders, then you insult mei ability to tote an armload of wood.” He chuckled. “That’s a woman. Always changing her mind about something.”
She pretended to scowl but was unable to hold the stern expression long. She laughed along with Caleb, wishing this moment could go on forever.
Finding Aenti asleep in the rocking chair, Jonica gently placed the wood into the box, then helped unload the stack Caleb held. She motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen. As she prepared the coffeepot, Caleb removed two mugs from the cabinet.
