by Marta Perry
They were halfway to the door when Dorcas had an overwhelming urge to giggle. Putting her hand over her lips to stifle it, she hurried out to the hall, with Betsy a step behind her, trying equally hard not to laugh. Once the door was closed, they sank against the wall together, giggling helplessly.
Finally catching her breath, Dorcas managed to speak. “I haven’t laughed like that since I was eleven. Imagine two grown women buffaloed by a tiny baby.”
“I know.” The strain had disappeared from Betsy’s face and it brimmed with laughter. “Why was I so silly?”
“I don’t know.” She surveyed her sister-in-law. “What on earth made you decide you were a bad mother?”
Betsy looked surprised, as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “I . . . I don’t know. He wouldn’t stop crying, and I felt so helpless. And my mamm . . . you know, she does everything so well.”
Dorcas considered Annamae Mueller, Betsy’s mother. Master quilter, master pie-maker, master canner, and organizer of a dozen good works. Come to think of it, she would be hard to live up to.
She put her arm around Betsy’s waist. “You know what? She has quite a few years of experience on you. Just like Mammi does on me. We’ll get there.” She nudged Betsy toward the stairs. “Komm. Let’s finish supper before Levi comes tramping in wanting to eat.”
They walked downstairs together, and Dorcas realized she felt considerably lighter than she had an hour ago. It wasn’t only that she had a new understanding of her sister-in-law. She felt better in herself. It seemed there was nothing like dealing with somebody else’s trouble to ease the heartache of your own.
* * *
—
Thomas completed a few outside chores and headed into the kitchen, wiping his feet on the mat outside the door. Mammi and Esther stood at the sink, finishing up the supper dishes. Mammi was clearly trying to make conversation, but Esther was turning it into an uphill battle.
Had he been that prickly when he was her age, or was it only girls who reacted to growing up in that way?
Esther, catching his eye, flared up in an instant. “Why are you looking at me?”
He raised an eyebrow, determined not to let her goad him into losing his temper. “You happen to be standing where I was looking, I guess.”
Mammi dried her hands on the dish towel, looking from him to Esther and not seeming to like what she heard. “Esther, there’s no reason that I can see for you to be rude to your brother.”
Guilty conscience. He thought the words but didn’t say them. No sense in making matters worse, was there?
“Sorry,” Esther muttered under her breath. She shoved the pan she’d been drying toward the cupboard and missed, letting it hit the floor with a clatter.
“Esther!” Mammi bent and rescued the pan herself. “That’s enough. What have you been up to that’s making you so cross?”
For an instant Esther seemed to try to control herself, but she didn’t succeed. “You tell Mammi.” She threw the words at Thomas. “I suppose Teacher Dorcas told you all about it.”
“Teacher Dorcas didn’t tell me a thing about you,” he said flatly. Not until he’d guessed it anyway. “I have eyes and ears, you know. I heard that neighbor you’d riled yelling at Teacher Dorcas and went to see what was going on. You didn’t think of that, did you? That he’d blame her instead of you. At least, I hope you didn’t.”
“I . . . how would I know . . .” Esther began to stammer.
Mammi took her firmly by the shoulders and looked into her face. “Esther Grace, you’ll tell me what you’ve done, and right now.”
Whatever was left of Esther’s defiance dissolved in an instant, and she sniffled. Mammi didn’t seem impressed.
“Out with it,” she commanded.
Esther rubbed her eyes and looked at him. “You tell,” she murmured, tears spurting out, despite her efforts to control them.
Thomas began to wish he’d never come into the kitchen, but it was too late now. He’d have to explain.
“That new Englisch neighbor is really particular about the kids crossing his yard when they’re on their way to school. Apparently Teacher Dorcas warned them to be careful about it, right?”
Esther nodded miserably.
“This morning it seems somebody dared someone else to cut across the yard, and the man’s raising a fuss,” he finished.
Mammi looked troubled. “You said he was blaming Teacher Dorcas for it.”
“Yah. Yelling and threatening to tell the school board and the police and saying she ought to control her pupils. But how she could do that when they weren’t at school yet, I don’t know.” He looked at his sister, who sniffled again.
Mamm zeroed in on her erring daughter. “It is bad enough to disobey. Worse to annoy someone else at his own home. And still worse yet to let someone else take the blame for what you did.”
Mammi didn’t talk that way very often, but Thomas remembered it. He’d remembered feeling as low as a worm, too, knowing that Mammi was disappointed in him.
Now Esther was experiencing it, and the flood of tears she produced was enough to water the whole garden, it seemed. Unimpressed, Mammi handed her a towel.
“What do you think you should do about this, Esther Grace?”
Esther tried to look at Mammi, failed, and stared at the floor instead. “Apologize,” she whispered.
“That’s right,” Mammi said. “To Mr. Haggerty for going on his property. And to the other scholars, for daring them. And to Teacher Dorcas, for disobeying her and causing trouble for her.”
Esther looked appalled at the retribution that was coming down on her, but she knew better than to argue. “I will,” she whispered. “First thing tomorrow.” She looked at Thomas, wilting a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was mean to you.”
He grinned. “I don’t know either.” He put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug and a little shake. “Just for that, you can play me in a game of Farms and Fields tonight, okay?” The board game, which he’d heard her call old-fashioned, had been a favorite when he was young.
She managed to produce a smile. “Okay. That’s a deal.” She brightened. “I’ll go set up the board.” She ran off toward the living room.
Mammi smiled, too, and patted Thomas’s arm. “That was wonderful gut how you handled her.”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t think I ever realized how hard it is to bring up kinder. Too hard for me, that’s for sure.”
“Ach, you’ll feel different when they’re your own kinder,” she said. “You’ll come and tell me you handled it just like I would have.”
He was struck dumb for a moment. Despite everything that had happened with Daad, Mammi was so obviously envisioning a future when he’d be here. When he’d live in Promise Glen, get married, and have a houseful of grandchildren for her. Only none of it was going to happen.
He’d have to tell her he was leaving. In all his anger at Daad and his own hurt, he hadn’t thought of her, and shame swept over him. This was going to hurt her maybe even worse than it had him.
And yet what else could he do? What he’d told Dorcas was true. Daad hadn’t trusted him in the past, and he still didn’t trust him. Staying around was just an invitation to see him do the same in the future.
“Mammi . . .” He hesitated, wishing he had a recipe for delivering sad news without pain.
“What is it, Thomas?” She looked at him, and in her face he read more than just a question. Her fear and concern hadn’t gone away. They were still there, ready to jump out at any moment.
She knew as well as he did that things weren’t going well with Daad, and she was probably waiting, minute by minute, for the situation to erupt again.
“I . . . I don’t think it’s going to work.” He took her work-worn hand in his, wanting to protect her and knowing he couldn’t. “I don’
t think Daad has changed. And I know he hasn’t forgiven me.”
She clutched his hand tightly. “Give it a little more time, Thomas. Please. Walls can’t be broken down in a minute.”
“Sometimes they can’t be broken down at all,” he said, picturing Daad’s implacable face. He struggled to say something to ease her pain. “I won’t leave tomorrow. I have to stay until I finish the work at the school. But then . . . well, then I’ll have to go. I guess there’s no going back.”
He stood there and watched the hope fade from his mother’s eyes. There was nothing he could do.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Feeling a little sorry for Esther, Thomas offered her a ride to school the next day. She accepted with a sidelong glance, as if to be sure he meant it.
“Hop in, then.” He gathered up the lines. “I want to make an early start today.”
Esther tossed her lunch bag in the back and scrambled up to the seat next to him. “Denke,” she murmured.
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to scold you.”
“No, I didn’t think that.” She sucked in an audible breath. “Thomas, would you . . . would you stop at Mr. Haggerty’s with me? Please?” She rushed the words out as if she wanted to get rid of them.
A twinge of sympathy softened the look he gave her. He remembered what it was like to tackle something he really didn’t want to do.
“Sure. No problem.”
The easy words seemed to reassure her. “I was really kind of scared of him, you know?”
“So that’s why you started daring each other, right? When I was a kid, the old Miller place stood empty for a long time, and folks started saying it was haunted. So Jonas and I dared each other to go up on the porch.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you? Did you see a ghost?”
“No ghosts, but Jonas cut his leg on a broken board, and I had to carry him home. And Mammi was worse than any ghost when she heard about it.”
Esther giggled and then grew solemn. “Did she say she was disappointed in you?”
“Yah. Jonas started to cry, and I wasn’t much better.”
She nodded, and suddenly things were easy between them. “I know,” she said.
Esther was quiet as they approached Mr. Haggerty’s house. A quick look told him she was steeling herself for the ordeal, and he found himself stiffening, too. If the man started yelling at his little sister . . . well, he didn’t think either of them would handle it as well as Dorcas had.
He stopped at the mailbox and ground-tied the horse, knowing he wouldn’t go anywhere. “Komm. Let’s get it over with.”
Esther surprised him by marching straight up to the front door and knocking. He lingered at the bottom of the porch steps, ready for any kind of reaction.
The door opened. Haggerty glared at the sight of them. “I told you kids—”
“I’m sorry.” Esther rushed the words out before he could get going. “It was my fault. I dared the others.” She gulped. “It wasn’t Teacher Dorcas’s fault. She told us not to.”
She seemed to have taken the wind out of his sails. For a moment he just stared at her. Then he cleared his throat.
“Yeah, well . . . don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” she said quickly. “Denke.”
“What does that mean?” His look was wary, as if he expected an insult.
Esther had turned away, but she looked back at him. “It means thank you.”
He didn’t go so far as to smile, but Thomas thought for a minute he was amused. Then Esther raced back to the buggy. He nodded to the man and followed. His little sister had done the whole thing much better than he would have, and he felt irrationally proud to be a part of it.
Neither of them spoke until he pulled up at the stable. “Gut job,” he said gruffly, and a smile lit her face.
“I’m wonderful glad you went with me.” She hurried the words and then raced off to the schoolhouse.
Standing and watching, he saw her stop to speak to Dorcas and after a moment go on to the schoolyard. Dorcas looked toward him, and he walked over to meet her.
“Did she tell you she’d apologized to Mr. Haggerty?” he asked.
Dorcas nodded. “I wouldn’t have asked her to do it, but I’m glad she did. It couldn’t have been easy. I hope he didn’t yell.”
“I don’t think he knew what to make of it.” He grinned. “Maybe he’s not used to kids.”
“No.” A shadow came over her face. “You know, I was wondering about him. About why he moved here, I mean. Levi says he heard at the hardware store that he had lived in Williamsport until his wife died. Seems like she’d been sick a long time, from what he heard. Still, it’s surprising he’d move away from everyone he knew.”
“Yah, it is.” At least it was in comparison to the tightly woven fabric of Amish life, where every single strand touched another and another. “Maybe he won’t be so hard on the kids now.”
Dorcas shook her head, her eyes filling with compassion. “That doesn’t matter. I just feel bad for him being all alone that way.”
Dorcas, he thought, had an endless capacity for feeling empathy for others. He just hoped it didn’t lead her into sorrow. He almost said as much when he reminded himself that it wasn’t any business of his, not anymore.
“Better get to work,” he muttered, and strode off toward the stable.
By the time he heard the school bell ringing, he was already deep into the work he’d planned for today. If he did what he intended, another week should be enough to finish the whole job.
And then it would be time to leave.
Almost at once he started finding reasons why he shouldn’t do any such thing. Daad hadn’t said anything more about his being a bad influence. In fact, he’d been downright mellow for the past day or so, probably because Mammi had soothed him down.
There was Esther. He’d just begun to get to know her all over again, and Adam, too. Even Jonas didn’t seem to be looking so hard for something to argue about.
Give it time, Mammi had said. But if he did, he ran the risk of having it all come down on his head again. Until Daad found it in his heart to forgive him, his place here would never be secure.
There were no easy answers, and if he was honest with himself, he’d have to say that a large part of his need to find reasons to stay was Dorcas. He glanced involuntarily toward the school. He couldn’t deny the attraction she held for him . . . no, something stronger than attraction.
Thinking this way wasn’t helping matters any. He’d best just finish the job at hand and stop looking for a happy ending that wasn’t going to come. Hooking his hammer in his waistband, he climbed up the stall bars. There was one crosspiece above his head that he wanted to double-check. If it had gotten soaked when the roof leaked, it might be just as well to replace it.
The stall bars didn’t get him quite high enough, and he reached up for another handhold. Swinging his leg across, he felt for the ledge where his foot could go. He touched it, shoved his foot into place, shifting his weight. Something creaked, he felt himself slip, and he cried out as he plummeted toward the floor.
* * *
—
A crash and a cry came through the open window in the schoolroom, freezing everyone in place for an instant. Even as Dorcas realized what it was—what it had to be—a rustle of awareness swept the room. Dorcas recovered herself immediately. No time to think about it, just to act.
“Stop this minute.” The force of her voice stopped the rush toward the door. “Anna, you will take charge in here. Joseph and Benjamin, you come with me.”
Before she reached the door, Esther grabbed her arm. “My brother—I have to come—”
“Come then.” She grasped the girl’s hand. “But you must listen to what I say.”
Esther nodded, and with the two boys, they raced across to the
stable, seeing the haze of dust in the air even from here. Please, Lord, please, Lord . . . The prayer filled her heart, even though she couldn’t find the words. Thomas would be all right. Her heart clenched into a fist. He had to be.
They reached the door. Thomas lay on the floor, limp and unconscious, a couple of boards over his legs. As she hurried toward him, fragments of first aid jolted through her mind.
“Don’t touch him,” she ordered when Esther would have thrown herself toward Thomas. “We must see how bad it is first.”
She knelt next to Thomas, barely able to breathe. Very gently she put her hand on his chest. Relief swept through her as she felt the steady beat of his heart.
“Is he . . .” Tears clogged Esther’s voice.
“His heart is steady, and he’s breathing all right.” She touched his head, feeling for injury. Her fingers brushed a hard lump, rising by the moment.
She had to get medical help. A blow hard enough to knock him out could be serious. Concussion, fracture . . .
Putting the brakes on her racing thoughts, she turned to the children. “Esther, I want you to tell Anna to get the cell phone that is in the right bottom drawer of my desk. Tell her to call 911 and ask for paramedics and an ambulance. And tell her to call your parents, too. Can you do that?”
She nodded, scrambling to her feet. “Are you . . . is he hurt bad?”
“I can’t tell how bad, so we need the ambulance. Hurry, now.”
Choking back a sob, Esther raced toward the schoolhouse. Joseph moved slightly.
“Teacher Dorcas, I think we could lift the boards off him without jarring him.”
She took a closer look. The boards weren’t tangled with his legs, just pinning them down.
“All right. Let’s try, slowly.” She put her hands on Thomas’s leg on either side of the board. “Each of you take an end and lift it when I say. I’m going to keep his leg from moving.”
Joseph nodded, and the boys moved into position, each grasping an end.
“All right, now.”
