Aware that time was slipping away, she stood and picked her way along the edge of the creek, carefully stepping from rock to rock as she went. The rocks were slick and mossy, but she’d been down this way many times, and little had changed while she had been gone. A cool breeze kissed her tear-stained cheeks, and she stopped to crouch on a large, flat section of stone.
Am I really that bad? Gabbie thought, as Mary’s words rang in her head again. I don’t think I’m that rude or that selfish or anything like that. Her nose wrinkled. Mary must be wrong, but why would she say those things if she weren’t being honest?
Her thoughts stopped running in circles, and instead, turned inward, and dug deeper. There were times when she had been difficult, but she was a child then and didn’t know better. Taking her brothers’ toys, throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way, all of that was long past her. That was child’s stuff, stuff she'd done years and years ago. Or was it? Her brow furrowed. Why had her family sent her away? Gabbie couldn’t think of a reason off the top of her head, but as she gathered up flat stones and tried to skip them along the water, her thoughts grew clearer.
She didn’t like to work hard as her brothers did. Even though Gabbie didn’t want to help out, she still did; she helped her mother all the time. Gabbie had to admit she never put more than the required effort into anything because nothing held her interest for long. Whenever she had to help her brothers with a chore, she never gave the full measure of effort. Often, they would have to re-do whatever she’d just done. How childish, came immediately to her mind and her cheeks burned. Again, Gabbie saw the truth in Mary’s words.
Running away when confronted with the truth? That was even more childish. Gabbie’s cheeks reddened further with shame and embarrassment when she realized what she’d done. Her stomach sank, and fresh tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
“Ach nee. I wonder what Joseph thinks of me. He must think I’m an absolute terror,” she muttered to herself. Gabbie was startled by the sound of her own voice, and immediately bit her tongue before she said more. It didn’t matter that she was alone in the woods. She blew out a breath, allowing the remaining rocks to fall with a clatter onto the stones beneath her. She took a few more breaths to calm her nerves jarred by the realization of how she was viewed by others.
Nearby, something snapped; it was a twig or a small branch. She tried to take a step back, but her body was frozen to the spot. Her bottom lip trembled, as she said, “Hello? Who’s there?”
Another twig cracked. Gabbie bit her lower lip, and stared toward the sounds. Was it a bear? There had been some sightings. She considered running, but realized that would do no good if it were something big and nasty. It didn’t sound big and nasty, but she couldn’t be sure. The sound of her heart beating in her ears made everything sound louder and bigger than it was.
“Hello?” A male voice sounded.
The sound of a human voice caused her to heave a sigh of relief. She squinted into the woods and saw the outline of a man. When he stepped closer, she saw that it was Joseph. “Joseph! That’s you, isn’t it? It’s me Gabbie.”
“Ach, Gabbie.” Leaves rustled and shifted for a few more moments until Joseph came into plain view.
He was every bit as handsome as she remembered him. Tall and dark-haired, with perfect blue eyes; the sight of him made Gabbie’s heart throb all the more. She fought the urge to get closer, and instead, stood her ground while he approached.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I heard you went off for a bit.”
“I did,” she said. “I’ve been staying with another familye, the Yoders, in Lancaster County. I’m back now.” She couldn’t fight the smile that claimed her lips, and she didn’t try. “For good, I mean. I don’t think I’ll have to go back.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a soft laugh. “It was strange not seeing you around.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened a little, and she forced herself to look away. “Did you miss me when I was gone?”
“Well, yeah.” He ambled along the rocky edge of the creek just a few paces ahead of her. He stood there, his head tipped back with the weak afternoon sun scattered across his features. “This must be the best place in the world to think. I should’ve known I wasn’t the only one to come here.”
“I guess that’s fair.” Gabbie giggled. “I like coming here; it’s always peaceful and quiet. It’s easy to get lost in thought out here, but I really didn’t know anyone else came here either.”
Joseph nodded and murmured his agreement. He leaned down to collect a few stones, only to toss them one by one into the water. When he was done, he turned to Gabbie. “Anyway, I think it’s something to do with the water. The sound of it, I mean. It’s like it cuts out the rest of the noises up here.” He tapped the side of his head with a knuckle and turned a lopsided grin her way. “Makes it easier to focus on what’s important.”
“That’s probably it.” Gabbie followed him, gathering her own handful of rocks. She stirred them around in her hand and picked through them to find the prettiest stones. “All I know is that I can lose myself in the sound of the water and let it wash all of my thoughts away with it.”
He made a noise in his throat, and then tossed his last rock into the water. “The weather wasn’t so good for visiting a while ago,” he admitted. “But it’s nicer now. A lot nicer.”
“That's good.” Gabbie dropped most of her rocks into the water and watched the surface of the water distort and ripple around the disturbance. The most colorful and smoothest rocks remained in her other hand. She studied them in turn, her lower lip caught in her teeth. One by one, even those were dropped into the steadily flowing waters.
Silence spun out between the two of them, against the backdrop of the bubbling creek. A single bird chirped in the distance, but the rest of the world was content to let the quiet moment stretch onward. Joseph finally stopped and stared into the gold-kissed waters, his features twisted with thought. He dug a toe into a small heap of pebbles and lifted a few with his toes to drop them into the water.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t look at her when he asked; he didn’t need to.
Gabbie pulled a face and turned away. She walked in the opposite direction, only to stop again when she realized what she was doing. Running away? Now? Don’t be a child, Gabbie. She faced him, and said, “I guess I’m not okay.” She bit her lower lip a little harder. “Mary and I were talking today, and she told me some things, and I just ... I just ran away. It was stupid of me. I really should’ve stayed, but I just couldn’t. It was terrible.” She looked out across the water. “I’m terrible.”
He said nothing right away. Instead, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. She squirmed just a little under his steady gaze before she looked sharply toward the water once more. She couldn’t look at him any longer, imagining him judging her.
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he finally said.
“I’m a horrible person, Joseph. I really, really am. I just didn’t realize it until recently, that’s all.” She exhaled slowly and shut her eyes. Her shoulders bunched up tightly, and she folded her arms around her middle. It wasn’t the same as the hug she desperately wanted from him, but he was there and that was enough.
“You aren’t horrible, Gabbie. Truly, you aren’t.”
She could hear him getting closer. The rocks shifted under his feet, and a few fell into the water. She didn’t dare look for fear he would disappear.
This can’t be happening, she thought while funny little tingles skittered down her spine. “I am,” she said. “I …”
He cut her off with a firm, “Nee. Your vadder is the bishop. I can’t imagine being raised with a vadder like yours. It’s that kind of thing that would put a lot of pressure on a person, especially with you being the only girl — and the eldest. It’s no surprise they’d push you hard to be perfect. I’m sure you suffer that burden every day.”
He reached out and put a hand on her should
er, and she tensed under his touch. His hand was warm, perfect, and just what she needed, but a thread of tension twisted through her all the same. “I know, I know. My vadder’s a little disappointed that I wasn’t a boy. My bruders just seem so much more useful.”
“He practically has a herd of boys,” Joseph pointed out. “He shouldn’t hold you to the same standard that he holds them. You’re a different person from the rest of them, and you’re not horrible. You’ve got a spark that no one else has. People light up when you’re around.”
“You really think that?”
He smiled. “You’re special, Gabbie.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and she looked at him, only to look away again. His words had done nothing to quash the blossoming blush that claimed her cheeks, in fact, they'd fed it.
Embarrassment emerged again, and Gabbie pulled away from the comfort of his touch. As much as she desperately wanted to bask in that reassurance, and maybe, just maybe, get a hug — she couldn’t. A terrible thought clawed its way out of the back of her mind and soured the moment with a single word — Ilsa. The very idea that Ilsa wouldn’t approve was enough to throw cold water on the warm feelings that filled her. “I guess you’re right. I just, I really shouldn’t be telling you all of this.”
“Why not?” Joseph’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Is something wrong?” He reached for her, but Gabbie took a step away.
“I just don’t think …” she began and then trailed off. She shook her head to clear it and then wore a smile she didn’t feel, but thought it would look convincing. “You and Ilsa, you’re about to be married soon. I don’t think she’d like me talking to you about all of my problems. It also looks bad we’re out here alone.”
Joseph’s features distorted, and it was his turn to look away. He said something just under his breath, but Gabbie didn’t dare ask him to repeat it. Louder, he said, “It’s fine, but I guess you’re probably right.”
She winced and bit her lower lip again. “I’m sorry, Joseph. I shouldn’t have said anything to you about my problems.” She didn’t know what else to say. All she could do was wring her hands and look at him. Worry creased her brow, and she swallowed hard ignoring the fact she could still feel the burn of her cheeks.
He glanced up at the overhead branches as though he were trying to spot the sky. Joseph’s nose wrinkled after a long moment. “It’s getting a little late. I should head back now.”
“I should go too. Thanks for talking to me.”
“Goodbye, Gabbie.”
“Bye, Joseph.”
He turned and walked back up the path he’d used. Soon enough, Gabbie was alone by the creek, filled with a mixture of emotions. She was pleased that they’d had a quiet moment alone, but she was no closer to him, and he was still going to marry Ilsa.
Chapter 34
It was on the walk back home that Gabbie realized how much better she felt. Aside from putting Joseph in that awful position, it felt good to be heard for once and to have someone comfort her. Gabbie smiled as she hummed softly.
Joseph liked her; he had to. If he didn’t, why would he even bother talking to her and why would he be so thoughtfully concerned for her? Her thoughts skipped around those ideas during the long walk home.
The sun was low in the sky, sending long shadows across her path. As she walked on, Gabbie marveled at the distorted shapes the late afternoon shadows made.
All of her thoughts waned once she approached the door to her house. She mounted the steps slowly, and grudgingly rested her hand on the doorknob. Opening that door would mean her peace was over. There would be chores, and she would have to talk to her parents. Her mother had asked her not to be late, and now she was, most likely too late to help with the dinner. She would have to face Mary at some stage too and apologize. Gabbie’s stomach twisted with pain.
She sucked in a deep breath and then let out her breath slowly. Gabbie opened the door to be greeted by the sight of her father. He was seated in his usual chair, and he motioned to the empty chair opposite him. Wrinkling her nose, Gabbie stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Heavy steps carried her to the chair, and when she sat, silence lingered in the space between them.
Eventually, her father said, “Since you’ve come back, we’ve had to give a lot of thought to what we will do with you. Your bruders have a good hand on duties here at the haus.”
Gabbie shifted uncomfortably. “You won’t send me back to the Yoders’ haus, will you?” Her voice seemed tiny, distant and thin.
He shook his head and leaned forward in his chair. “Nee, but we are sending you to another haus, one that’s closer and in much more need; Mrs. Kingsly’s haus. Nancy Kingsly lost her husband not long ago in a terrible accident. She’s left with four young kinner and a boppli, and all her familye are too far away to help. She’s struggling to keep things together, and the community needs to give her more help.”
Gabbie knew who Nancy was, although, being much younger than Nancy she had nothing in common with her. Gabbie could feel her face twist with displeasure. All she wanted to do was jump up and yell at him for suggesting it. She wanted to throw a terrible tantrum and get out of it; that’s what she normally would’ve done when under so much pressure. And if not that, she would have schemed and plotted her way out of it.
Why should I help her? She wanted to cry. Why can’t I stay here and help Mamm? She bit her tongue instead and waited.
Her father continued, “You’ll be there every day to help. You’ll do the cooking, cleaning, taking care of her kinner, everything and anything that needs to be done. She’s a kind woman and I trust you’ll do a good job while you’re there. You know Nancy Kingsly, don’t you?”
“Jah, of course, I do.” Gabbie couldn’t help but squirm restlessly in her seat. She forced herself to sit still, folded her hands and put them in her lap. In her sweetest voice, she asked, “How long am I going to be doing this?”
“Until she doesn’t need the help any more.” Her father stood. “You’ll not be paid for what you do, mind you. She hasn’t a thing to spare. But, at the least, you’ll have food in your belly, clothes on your back, and a bed to sleep in while you’re there. It’s a fine way to help someone who’s unable to help themselves.”
Inside, Gabbie could feel her anger bubbling. She bounded to her feet. “I’m to stay there — sleep there?”
Mr. Miller nodded. “It’ll be easier that way.”
“I understand,” is what she said, but she didn’t understand at all.
“I’m pleased that you’re finally coming around to helping others in need.” He stood up, smiled, and reached over to pat the top of her kapp. “Dinner’s almost ready, Gabbie. Go see if your mudder needs help setting things up.”
It was brought to Gabbie’s mind again that she had said she’d be back in time to help her mother with the dinner, and she hadn’t been.
Her father turned and left, leaving her alone in the room with her thoughts. Why did she have to do it? Why not someone else? Why did she have to do it without pay when she could’ve found an outside paying job? Why did they keep sending her away?
She didn’t know how long she’d stood there, letting those thoughts twist and churn in her mind. It wasn’t until her mother called her that she realized she was taking too long. Gabbie hastened to help with dinner, braced herself for chastisement over being late, and braced herself for what the next morning would bring at Nancy’s house.
The next morning, she was sent off to the Kingsly house with a basket full of food and other odds and ends — soap, needles and thread, and assorted other things any woman would need to keep her household in good repair. Her father drove her there, and he promised to come and get her when she asked.
Gabbie had never been to the Kingslys’ house before. When the buggy stopped in front of the house, she climbed out and saw that the house and garden were in good order. The recent tragedy was not reflected in the appearance of the property. She said goodbye to her father, shifted her grip on the ba
sket, and approached the front door slowly, mindful of just how strange and quiet it was. Once she got closer, the illusion was shattered. A baby wailed, and she heard the other children making noise. Children are like dogs, once one howls, they all do. Her thought made her smile; she didn’t know why.
Gabbie knocked on the door and was greeted by Nancy, a cheerful-looking young woman, maybe ten years older than herself. Strawberry blond hair poked through the front of Nancy’s prayer kapp, and the bags under her eyes were masked by the brightness of her gray eyes. Nancy laughed, and that laughter was bell-bright, not burdened in the slightest by her arms being laden with children. A howling infant was tucked in the crook of one arm while an equally loud toddler was squirming down from where he had been held against her hip.
“Hello, Mrs. Kingsly.”
“Hello, Gabbie. Denke for helping me. Please, just call me Nancy. Come in, now! Come in! Don’t mind the little ones; they’ll make room. They aren’t normally this noisy.”
Nancy stepped back, and Gabbie stepped inside looking around at the barely controlled chaos of the place. The children were all quite young and capable of making the most tremendous of messes.
“I’m so sorry,” Nancy said. “I wanted to get some of this tidied before you came.”
“Nee. It’s okay. That’s why I’m here,” Gabbie said. Deep down, she gritted her teeth at the indignation of it all. Her parents were trying to test her; that was the only reason Gabbie could figure that she was there.
“The Wilsons sent along some bones for stock. It looks like we’ll be eating soup for the next few days.”
“Wait,” Gabbie interjected; she couldn’t help herself. “You’re happy about having soup for days? Without any bread, or anything?”
“Oh,” Nancy shrugged and finally released the toddler to play. “It’s not so bad. Not at all. It just depends on how you look at things, you know? I like soup. They like soup. Why would having soup be bad?”
The Amish Deacon's Daughter Page 19
