by Marta Perry
His relief was echoed around the room. From the corner of his eyes he saw Lydia Gaus start to rise, only to be pulled back by her husband. She glared at him but subsided.
“We’re done, then. Don’t forget to be at the field next to the fire hall on Friday to start setting up.” He turned his back on the room to thank Dinah, and people began getting up, catching their neighbors, and rehashing the meeting.
Thomas grinned, relaxing. Wasn’t that always the way after a community meeting? All the people who hadn’t spoken up would now tell their neighbors what they thought.
“Gut job, Thomas.” Jacob clapped him on the shoulder. “I was right to shove you in here, ain’t so?”
“I think you got me in bad with the Gaus family. Who are they anyway?”
“They moved here from over Fernville way to take over Hiram Stoltz’s farm when he died. He was some relation, I guess.”
Thomas nodded, dismissing the Gaus family from his mind. Dorcas undoubtedly knew what was going on. The woman had been bending her ear over at the school the other day. But what was she doing, wanting to take money away from the school her own kinder went to?
He had no desire to ask Lydia Gaus, but he wouldn’t mind talking to Dorcas about it. He looked her way, but she didn’t seem to want to meet his eyes. And then a couple of the men came up to tell him he’d said just the right thing, and the moment slipped away.
It wasn’t until most people were leaving that he walked through into the bakery kitchen and found Dorcas packing leftover pastries into plastic bags. She didn’t turn at once, so he stood where he was and watched her busy, efficient hands doing the task.
“Is there anything else I can help with, Dinah? These are about finished,” she asked.
“It’s not Dinah.”
Dorcas spun around to face him. “I didn’t realize . . . I mean . . .” She flushed slightly. “I should thank you for helping out in there.”
She didn’t sound as if it gave her much pleasure to say it, making him wonder what was in her mind.
“No problem.” He shrugged. “What is it with that woman anyway? Her own kids go to your school. You’d think she’d want more money for the school, not less.”
Dorcas wrinkled her nose, suddenly looking sixteen again. “She doesn’t want her kinder at Orchard Hill. She wants to close the school and send all the scholars to the Oak Creek school.”
“So she’s the one behind that talk.” He drew a little closer and leaned against the counter. “Why?”
“Who knows? That’s where her kinder went before they moved over here. Apparently, she thinks it’s a bigger and better school. Or maybe that Ruth is a better teacher.”
“That’s foolish.” He felt like saying something stronger but suspected that would get him into trouble with Teacher Dorcas.
She shrugged, frowning down at the counter, bleached by countless washings. “I don’t know how she got this bee in her bonnet. Her girls seem to be happy enough.”
“Which ones are they?” He could only imagine the cluster of females gathered like so many clucking hens around his sister.
“Erna and Hallie. Erna’s in her last year. Hallie is a friend of your sister, Esther.”
“Maybe I should have a talk with Esther.”
“Forget it,” she said sharply. “I mean . . . well, don’t bring the scholars into this issue. It wouldn’t be right.”
“If you say so.” He frowned. “Isn’t there something I can do to help?”
“You’ve done enough.” Again, it sounded a little sharp. “Denke. Just . . .”
“Just leave you alone?”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Look, I’m grateful to you. Again.”
He started to see a little daylight. Somehow this was tangled up with what had happened nearly eight years ago. And she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. It bothered him a lot more than he would expect and annoyed him even more.
“Fine.” He snapped the word. “I’ll leave it alone. But let’s be clear—I’m not looking for gratitude from you. Not for what happened in the past, and not for anything I do now.”
He shoved himself away from the counter and pushed his way out of the door. He’d had enough.
But he had a strong suspicion that neither of them would be able to leave the subject alone. Sooner or later they’d have to be honest with each other, and it seemed Dorcas didn’t want that.
But why? Was she afraid he was going to hold it over her? Or afraid he was going to let it out? Either way, he didn’t think much of her attitude.
CHAPTER SIX
Dorcas found she was unconsciously slowing down as she got ready for worship the next morning. Giving herself a mental shake, she hurried through the last few things she had to do. She knew exactly what had caused her reluctance. Guilt. She had been rude to Thomas when he was trying to help her.
And why? Some serious soul-searching in the hours of the night had made it clear. She’d been rude because any kindness he did reminded her of how much she already owed him. Seeing that made her feel very small, to say nothing of unfit for worship.
That being the case, she knew worship was the best place for her, so she hurriedly finished getting ready. In the kitchen, Mammi was in a flutter because Betsy was going back to worship with the baby this week. Since the weather was lovely and the drive was a short one, she and Levi had decided, but the preparations suggested they were trekking across country.
Lemuel, patiently waiting with the buggy, exchanged smiles with Dorcas. Like her, he was sometimes amused by how much equipment one small baby required.
“Just wait until it’s you,” Dorcas whispered under cover of Betsy’s voice behind them, insisting that Levi check the diaper bag once more before they left.
“You’re more likely to get there first,” he said. “Even if you are my sister, you’re too pretty to stay single for much longer.”
A compliment from an older brother was so rare that Dorcas blushed. She tried to shake her head convincingly. “I’m an old maid, haven’t you heard?”
“Wait until you see what comes along next for you.” He said it with his best big brother voice. “It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
She shook her head but didn’t try to argue since they were at last ready to leave. He clucked to the buggy horse, and they were off.
The spring air was a little cool this early, but the sun was thinning the light mist that hung in the valley. As it grew brighter, Dorcas imagined she saw the faintest tint of pale green surrounding the trees.
Her spirits lifted. Who could feel troubled on a morning like this? She would ask God’s forgiveness and guidance. And then she would try to make things right with Thomas, even if something in her quailed at the thought of discussing what lay between them.
Worship was in a large storage shed cleaned out especially for the purpose. The Lapp family would have been at work all week in order to have it spotless, she knew, and that should reassure Betsy as to little Will’s safety from any stray dust. The Leit moved toward the building in family groups and then separated to line up in their usual order . . . women on one side and men on the other.
As an unmarried woman, Dorcas belonged with the younger women, but she made her way to the end of the younger group so that she’d be seated where the married women started. That put Sarah next to her, just as they’d sat next to each other from the time they’d been able to sit apart from their families.
Sarah greeted her with a quiet smile and squeezed her hand. “All right?” she murmured.
So Sarah had known something was wrong when they’d parted the previous day. She wasn’t really surprised. It was hard to put on an act with your closest friend.
She nodded. This wasn’t the time or place to tell Sarah about it, but they’d probably have a chance to talk after worship. And also after worship, she’d try to fin
d a moment for a quiet word or two with Thomas. Her pulse gave a little jump, and she closed her eyes in silent prayer before they went inside.
When she opened them, she found she was looking at Thomas, walking quietly behind his father toward the men’s line. She glanced from father to son and looked away none the wiser. It seemed that the Fisher males had adopted the same stoic, expressionless face, like a blank door with no handle. Whatever they felt about Thomas’s return, no one would know it by looking at them.
In a few minutes the lines began to move, women and girls first, and soon she was seated next to Sarah on the backless bench, looking down at her hands. Although she couldn’t see them, she knew that Betsy would be seated farther back with Will on her lap and Mamm close at hand, ready to help.
She felt the movement when Sarah craned her neck to see the twins, seated on either side of their father across the way. She was sure they felt much too grown up to sit with their mammi.
If Dorcas looked, she might be able to spot Thomas, sitting much as she did, between the unmarried and the married men, so she carefully did not look. There might be a few furtive glances from others toward Thomas, since this was his first Sunday in worship since returning, but hers wouldn’t be one of them.
One worship service after another, the same order was followed. No matter what the setting, one could count on being in the same position for worship. Your place was determined by your age from the time you were old enough to be apart from your mother.
Silence fell, and in the silence, Dorcas tried to order her thoughts for worship. It was never easy to prevent random thoughts and worries from popping up, and today it seemed harder than ever.
Before she could decide why, the voice of the Vorsinger lifted from the men’s side in the beginning of the first hymn, and the rest of the Leit picked up the familiar German words. The slow echo of the hymn seemed to resonate through the storage building and the spirit of worship settled on Dorcas, calming her troubled thoughts.
The ministers went out, as usual, to consult as to who would preach this morning, and an unwelcome speculation slid into her mind. Would Thomas’s father be chosen to speak today? And if so, would he talk about his son’s return? The return of the prodigal might seem appropriate, but she suspected that neither Thomas nor his father would find that comforting.
In any event, she need not wonder any longer, as they came back. It seemed Minister Joseph Stoltzfus would give the long sermon, and a sense of relief enveloped her.
The kindness that had developed in Minister Joseph during nearly eighty years of loving and serving always permeated his words, and today they had the soothing that she needed so desperately. In the stillness her heart spoke of regret and repentance, and she found peace and forgiveness seeping into her heart in return.
When the three hours of worship came to an end, Dorcas felt ready. She would watch for an opportunity to speak to Thomas, and when she did, the words were simple enough. I’m sorry. Thank you. She’d tried to say that already, and then the first thing she knew, she’d said the wrong thing and offended Thomas, and they were worse off than ever. She had to try again and mean it this time.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked again, and Dorcas realized she had been standing without moving. All around them, the men were making quick work of changing the benches into the tables where they’d lunch. Under the clatter, she leaned closer and spoke in an undertone.
“I need to say something to Thomas,” she murmured. “Will you help me make an opportunity?”
There was a question in Sarah’s eyes, but like the true friend she was, she didn’t ask. “For sure. After folks eat would be the best chance.”
Dorcas nodded, Sarah’s twins came running up to them, and the moment passed, but she was content. This would work out, she felt sure, and then she and Thomas could go their separate ways without any shadow between them.
* * *
—
Thomas walked out into the spring sunshine once the tables had been set up, surprised by his own reaction to the service. He’d worshipped regularly with his aunt and uncle, of course, so this shouldn’t feel any different.
But it did. Despite the few curious glances he’d caught focused on him, he’d felt at home. It was as if, after a long exile, he was back where he belonged, and the warm sun just seemed to add another blessing to the day.
“Not so bad, ain’t so?” Jacob nudged him. “Sitting next to you was just like old times.”
“Very old.” He couldn’t help smiling when he saw Jacob’s grin. “We must have been ten when we finally got to sit together in worship.”
“Yah, right there in the front row under the ministers’ eyes. I remember your daad glaring at me if I so much as looked at you.” Jacob gave a mock shudder. “Sometimes I still feel as if he’s watching me.”
“You ought to be married, that’s what he’s thinking,” Thomas said, a little maliciously. Still, he himself should be glad he wasn’t the only man to reach his mid-twenties without acquiring a wife and a kid or two.
“Same for you.” Jacob’s good humor was unimpaired.
“You two plotting some trouble?” The question came from behind them. Thomas turned to find that Noah Raber had joined them, his twin boys hanging on to his hands.
“Way I remember it, you got into as much trouble as we did back in the day,” Jacob said. “How about the milk snake you put in the teacher’s desk?”
“Hush.” Smiling, Noah put his hands over his boys’ ears. “You want to give them ideas? Sarah would get after me if I incited any trouble for her great friend.”
“That’s for sure.” Thomas had a vivid picture of Sarah and Dorcas at fifteen or so, giggling together at a singing, their gazes darting to him and away again.
While he was still smiling at the image, his brother Jonas came out of the storage building, edging his way around them as if they’d blocked his exit. Thomas opened his mouth to say something and was met by such a frowning glare that the words died on his tongue. What now? Didn’t Jonas like to see him getting together with old friends?
When Jonas had moved away, Thomas turned back to find both Noah and Jacob staring after him. Noah glanced at him questioningly before speaking to his boys.
“You two go off and find your mamm. See if she needs any help.”
Matthew looked as if he’d protest, but Mark grabbed his hand. “Come on, Matty. We can help.” They ran off.
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “What’s bothering Jonas? He looks like he just bit into a sour pickle.”
Thomas shrugged, not wanting to get into his family problems. “Guess he’s having a little trouble adjusting to having me back.”
“Put his nose out of joint, did it? He’ll get over it. Probably figured he was the eldest with you away.” Jacob could dismiss it easily, since it wasn’t his problem.
Noah moved restlessly, as if thinking this had gotten too personal. “So I hear you’re doing the work on the school stable. If you need any help, give me a shout.”
“Denke. You’re probably busy with your furniture crafting, ain’t so?”
Noah shrugged. “Not as busy as anyone who farms this time of year. I am trying to get ahead, so I have plenty of stock for summer visitors. Still, I can make time. I’ll stop over one day. There’s some work needs done enlarging my shop. We’ll talk.”
Noah had skirted lightly around the idea of talking business on the Sabbath, but what he’d said was enough to lift Thomas’s spirits. This was what he’d hoped would happen. There was nothing like word of mouth to get a business going.
He nodded, and they moved out of the way as food began coming from the house toward the tables. Sunday lunch was underway. He caught a glimpse of Dorcas carrying a large bowl of schmier, the concoction of peanut butter and marshmallow cream that they’d all loved as children. The sunlight caught the smooth strands of soft b
rown hair, bringing out glints of gold.
Was she still as annoyed as she’d been the previous day? That had been a strange conversation for sure. Why did she act as if being grateful to him was the worst thing in the world? They’d been friends once, or didn’t she remember?
He was distracted from this useless train of thought by the call to lunch. It was the usual array of food—meats, cheeses, salads, homemade bread, pies, and all of it more than anyone could eat. And the talk around the tables was familiar, too. In fact, he began to think it was the same conversation he’d heard after worship the Sunday before his life here collapsed.
Restless at the thought, Thomas took advantage of people picking up dessert to move away from the table. His daad was deep in conversation with one of the other ministers, so it didn’t look as if he’d be ready to leave very soon. Knowing that Sam Lapp was noted for his fine Percheron team, Thomas wandered around behind the barn to have a look at them.
The team was in the field, grazing comfortably—two beautiful grays, as alike as could be. At the sight of him, they ambled over with the friendliness that seemed characteristic of draft horses. He leaned over the fence to stroke the neck of the nearest one, impressed by the breadth of the shoulders and the sleek, strong muscles under the skin. Sam must have a hard time not showing his pride in these beauties.
A challenging part of Amish culture—this business of pride. A person of faith was humble, not proud, aware that everything he had and was came from the Lord. Still, Sam could feel satisfaction that the pair he’d raised had turned out so well, just as Thomas could feel satisfaction with a job of work well done.
He gave the horses a final pat each and moved on around the barn. Funny that he’d never had an instinctive understanding of livestock. Daad had it, and Jonas did as well. Not he. Now, if he could just convince Jonas of that, maybe his brother could be a bit easier with his presence.
Understanding his siblings wasn’t working out quite the way he’d anticipated. He’d been foolish, thinking that he’d return, and their relationship would pick up where it had left off. Not just foolish, he told himself. Stupid.
