Susanna nodded, as she might have if she were sitting in church. Whatever was churning up her mother’s spirit would surely pass, and with God’s help, Susanna would wait patiently and with charity until it did. Noah even turned his head as if he were speaking directly to her with his admonishment, but his gaze found no focus. When he began to pace, continuing to quote Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, Susanna snapped her attention back from her own uncharitable failings. She was not here to examine her heart. Her task was to make sure Noah remained safe.
Outside the window, a flash of blue fabric caught Susanna’s eye, and she pivoted to absorb the sight of Mrs. Zimmerman coming down the lane.
With determination.
And without distraction.
Susanna scanned for Phoebe. Had she gone around back to the chicken coop, or had she availed herself of the opportunity to walk along the fence?
On the one hand, Susanna was surprised Mrs. Zimmerman had not been back before this—or perhaps she had, at a time when Noah was himself and Phoebe had invited her in for a proper visit. On the other hand, it was imperative that Mrs. Zimmerman not enter the Kauffman home this afternoon under any circumstances.
Noah paced and preached, with no sign that the Lord’s Prayer would pass his lips anytime soon.
Susanna shoved the davenport from its usual angle to a position where it would block Noah if he tried to walk toward the fireplace. At least he would not fall into the stone. Moving the lamp off the side table and to the mantle would keep him from swinging his arm into glass. Leaving Noah was undesirable, but under the circumstances she had no choice. Susanna scampered across the room to pull closed the door to the kitchen and then to seal off the bedrooms. Last, she closed the shutters in the front window before hurtling outside and into the yard. Her last task might not have been worth the effort. The slats were widely spaced and three were missing altogether. Detecting the presence of someone inside the house would not be difficult.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Zimmerman.”
The older woman stopped about forty feet from the house. Susanna circled around her to draw her eyes away from the house.
“I did not expect to find you here,” Mrs. Zimmerman said.
Susanna forced a light laugh. “My secret is out. Noah is my favorite cousin.”
“The book of James cautions us against favoritism, Susanna.”
“You are right, of course, but love binds us together. ’Tis the greatest gift, is it not?”
Mrs. Zimmerman’s eyes narrowed. “Should you not be at home helping your mamm?”
Susanna heard a gentle rise and fall of Noah’s voice, even at this distance. But it was common knowledge that Mrs. Zimmerman had begun to be hard of hearing.
“I am afraid Phoebe is not in the house,” Susanna said.
“Where is she?”
“On the farm somewhere,” Susanna said. “With just the two of them, there is always work to do.”
“Why are the shutters closed in the middle of the day?”
“To keep out the heat,” Susanna said.
Mrs. Zimmerman wrinkled her face. “If Phoebe is out, then what are you doing here?”
“I offered assistance with a few things in the house,” Susanna said quickly. She looked over Mrs. Zimmerman’s shoulder and through the shutters saw Noah pace past the window. “I will be sure to tell Phoebe you were here.”
The fence and then the shutters. As soon as she was allowed to speak to Adam, Susanna would corral his help.
“Mmm. Perhaps I will have a look around before I give up entirely. Phoebe and Noah might be quite nearby.”
“Yes! Of course you are right.” Susanna was happy to have Mrs. Zimmerman look for Phoebe anywhere on the farm, as long as she did not come nearer the house. Noah reversed directions and passed the window again.
“If I fail to find them,” Mrs. Zimmerman said, “perhaps you will be kind enough to let them know I stopped by to inquire.”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Zimmerman’s gaze went toward the pasture.
“Phoebe did mention checking the fence,” Susanna said. “On the far side of the pasture.”
“’Tis always the far side.” Mrs. Zimmerman sighed. “She could be anywhere on the farm.”
“I am afraid so.”
As Mrs. Zimmerman strode back up the lane, Susanna ran back to the house, through the front door, and into the main room to find Noah now quoting from the book of 1 John.
“‘Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoso hath this world’s good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.’”
Susanna’s heart rate slowed. Noah had wandered no farther than back and forth across the front room, still preaching a convicting sermon about the necessity of love. She took her seat in the chair beside the window once again as Noah planted his feet in his habitual way. It disturbed him not at all that the shutters were closed. Fixing them might be one of the most helpful things Susanna could arrange. She peered out and welcomed the sight of an empty farmyard. Mrs. Zimmerman had wasted no time in her search for Phoebe.
Then the clatter came from the kitchen. Susanna sprang from the chair, quickly assessed Noah’s stability, and crossed the room. Her fingers were on the knob when it turned and the door opened.
“Mrs. Zimmerman!” Susanna’s stomach thudded like a dropped pail.
“It occurred to me that you were unclear about Noah’s whereabouts,” Mrs. Zimmerman said.
“Shall we chat in the kitchen?” Susanna gripped Mrs. Zimmerman’s elbow to try to turn her around. For the moment, Noah was silent. From this angle, it appeared he was simply surveying his land—if only the shutters were not closed.
“What is going on?” Mrs. Zimmerman pushed past Susanna. “Noah, I am delighted to see you are on your feet again.”
Noah spread his hands wide. “There is no greater gift in the world than love, but it must never be selfish love but rather selfless. Think of what your neighbor needs rather than what you might wish for yourself.”
“Ja,” Mrs. Zimmerman said. “That is exactly why I have come. I am here to help.”
Susanna’s stomach burned. Noah did not turn around.
“Have you known any need that love did not meet? I call upon you to speak of it, though I do not believe you will able to do so. Charity never faileth.”
“Who is he talking to?” Mrs. Zimmerman said.
Susanna said nothing.
“Is this another sermon like the one he gave on our last church Sunday?” Mrs. Zimmerman crossed to the window and threw open the shutters. Another slat dropped out of place.
Susanna swallowed her silence. She and Phoebe had not talked about what to do if this happened—though of course Mrs. Zimmerman should not have barged into the house.
“Susanna Hooley, I believe an explanation is due.”
Susanna shrugged. “You can see for yourself.”
“The bishop will not approve. Noah, you must stop right this minute.”
Noah moved on to talking about the brotherly love between David and Jonathan.
“If he will not listen to me,” Mrs. Zimmerman said, “then you must intervene.”
“He is asleep,” Susanna said softly.
“Then wake him up.” Mrs. Zimmerman reached for Noah.
“Please do not touch him,” Susanna cautioned.
The front door opened, and Phoebe came in.
“I am sorry,” Susanna said immediately. “She came in through the back. I did not realize.”
Phoebe wiped her hands on her apron. “Susanna, is Noah all right?”
Susanna nodded. “He has come to no harm.”
Mrs. Zimmerman snapped her fingers in front of Noah’s eyes. “This is what you did not want me to see the other day.”
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“Martha,” Phoebe said. “Please do not interfere.”
Mrs. Zimmerman planted a fist on one hip. “What am I interfering with? Do we not all want what is best for your husband? He must not persist in disobedience to the bishop.”
“He cannot help it,” Phoebe said.
“I suppose if you had children, you would excuse them as well.” Mrs. Zimmerman sobered her features. “If he cannot help himself, someone will have to help him.”
“We are helping him the best way we know how,” Phoebe said, “by keeping him safe during his spells.”
“Then perhaps you need some help as well.”
“I am helping,” Susanna said, indignation welling.
“I have in mind another kind of help,” Mrs. Zimmerman said. “What affects one household in the congregation affects us all. We must think of the good of all.”
“Martha, perhaps we can sit down and talk about this,” Phoebe said. “I will make kaffi and answer your questions.”
But Mrs. Zimmerman waved her off. “I have seen enough. It’s quite clear what is going on.”
She stomped out of the house, leaving Phoebe and Susanna staring at each other while Noah continued to preach.
“The news will be everywhere by the morning,” Phoebe said softly. “Everyone will know that what they saw at church that day was not merely an illness that overtook Noah of an afternoon.”
“What do you think will happen?” Susanna said, sitting on the arm of Noah’s stuffed chair.
Phoebe drew a long breath.
CHAPTER 11
Niklaus ran his hand down the cow’s back. “Noah will have a suggestion,” he said. “Perhaps an elixir to give the cow.”
Adam nodded. “I will ride over and ask.”
“We can both go. It will not take long to ask a question.”
“He might be free to come back with us and look for himself,” Adam said.
If Noah offered, Niklaus would not object. No one else in the district could assess an animal’s health as swiftly and accurately as Noah. Adam could have carried the question on his own and brought back a reliable answer, but Niklaus had not seen Noah since his attack of delirium ten days earlier. Having his own eyes on his friend and neighbor would be reassuring.
They took a pair of stallions for the two-mile ride.
“What in the world?” Niklaus said when the Kauffman house was in sight. Noah and Phoebe were quiet people living a quiet life. When it was their turn to host the congregation for worship, they happily did so. Otherwise, it was rare for a gathering to take form on their land—especially on a Wednesday afternoon.
“Did I doze off during an announcement at church?” Adam asked.
“Shall I consider that your confession?” Niklaus nudged his horse closer to the commotion. Deborah usually made sure Niklaus did not forget a church activity. She said nothing about this gathering, though most of the dozen or so people milling in the Kauffmans’ yard were women. Martha Zimmerman seemed to be in the middle of things. She spotted Niklaus and pushed out of the tight circle.
“So you have heard,” Martha said.
“I came only to speak to Noah about a cow,” Niklaus said.
“You are his nearest neighbor—and a minister. I am surprised that you have not come to see for yourself before this.”
Niklaus slid off his mount and glanced toward the barn, wondering if Noah might be there.
“If you have organized something with the women,” Niklaus said, “I have no wish to disturb you.”
“Niklaus Zug, you must know what has drawn us here.”
“No, Martha, I do not. As I said, I only want to speak to Noah about my cow who is feeling poorly. Do you happen to know where he is?”
“Inside resting. At least, that is what Phoebe said.”
“Then I have no doubt he is inside resting,” Niklaus said.
The front door opened. Susanna and her friend Patsy stepped out onto the stoop.
“Phoebe asks that you all please be on your way,” Susanna said.
“I told them what I saw with my own eyes,” Martha said.
“Yes, I supposed you had,” Susanna said. “But let us all be respectful and not turn the Kauffmans’ home into some sort of English curiosity.”
“We have a minister here, now,” Martha said. “He can judge for himself.”
“I am not here to judge anything,” Niklaus said, “other than the health of a cow threatening to be unfit to breed.”
“Noah is not available to speak or go anywhere,” Patsy said. “He is resting.”
“Susanna,” Martha said, “what has your English friend to do with any of this?”
“Martha,” Niklaus said, intending the warning his tone carried.
Adam walked slowly toward the stoop and caught Susanna’s eye. She flushed.
“If he begins preaching,” Mrs. Zimmerman said, “why should our people not see what is happening among us? Then they can judge for themselves.”
Preaching?
Adam tilted his head, pointing with his brow toward the side of the house. Susanna might not come, but Adam strode away from the gaggle.
“He stood right there,” Mrs. Zimmerman said, “right in front of the window, plain as day.”
Adam leaned against the house and peered around the corner where he had taken refuge. Susanna was off the porch now.
“Please go about your days,” Susanna said. “We will make sure Phoebe knows you were here, and when there is news of Noah’s recovery, we will make sure everyone knows. In the meantime, we covet your prayers.”
“We are not hurting anyone by standing out here,” Mrs. Satzler said. “We just want to see if it is true.”
Mrs. Zimmerman huffed. “Is my word insufficient for you? I saw him preaching—about love—just the way you all saw him preach after church.”
Susanna came toward Adam and leaned beside him against the house and sighed.
“Is it true?” he asked.
Susanna swallowed, her slender neck rippling in movement. “Noah continues to be … unwell.”
“He preaches?” Adam said.
“There is no one to listen,” Susanna said. “He just stands and looks out the window. Until today.”
Adam studied her features. Keeping them unperturbed required more effort than usual.
“And … why are you here?”
“Phoebe needs help.”
“The kind of help we gave her after church?”
“You are asking many questions, Adam,” Susanna said.
“I want to understand.”
“Noah’s condition or my choices?” Now Susanna became the questioner. Had his queries stung as much as hers?
“I must be honest,” he said, “a bit of both.”
“You did not hesitate to help at church,” Susanna said. “’Tis no different if I come to help at their home.”
“Surely he has not been ill all this time,” Adam said.
“Most of the time he is himself.”
“But the preaching? Every day?”
“No. Not every day. But often enough that Phoebe needs help. When it happens, Noah does not keep up with the chores. And Phoebe’s sister’s back is out again, so she goes back and forth.”
“If she needs help, she should call on the congregation. Others would want to help.”
“Would they, Adam?” Susanna pushed off the wall and turned to face him squarely. “Mrs. Zimmerman only found out yesterday, and look what has happened. Not one person has offered to do the milking or weed the garden. They only want to know if there will be a show. That is no help to Phoebe or Noah.”
Susanna was right.
“They should all go home,” Adam said.
“Yes, they should.”
“So let’s make them leave.”
“I have asked with increasing insistence to no avail.”
Adam pivoted around the corner. Niklaus huddled with Mrs. Zimmerman off to one side, both of them gesturing. Patsy barred th
e door with her body. Phoebe was out of sight. The crowd straggled farther from the house, but no one had left. The window was empty, which was for the best. With nothing to see, this would come to nothing. A year from now no one would remember it had happened at all.
Adam began speaking to individuals, moving from one to another with the same message.
“This is a matter for the ministers.”
“What Noah needs is peace and quiet.”
“Our prayers would be our greatest gift to Phoebe.”
Niklaus and Mrs. Zimmerman parted, and Niklaus stood on the stoop. “Let us peacefully disperse,” he said. “I will see how we might minister to our brother and sister in this time of illness and call upon you in due course.”
Several women began walking up the lane. Another pair climbed into a shared wagon. Mrs. Zimmerman glared at Patsy—no doubt seeing her as an intruder—but surrendered her goal and shuffled away from the house.
“Danki,” Susanna said to Adam. “They started coming and would not listen to me.”
Adam studied her face. The lines in her forehead meant she felt anxious. Loose tendrils of hair springing from her bonnet meant she was too distracted to notice. The set of her mouth. A slight tearful glaze in her eyes. He needed no interpretation because he knew Susanna. What was on her face was also in her heart.
Yet she had kept this from him. She had stayed away for days.
Now he saw a crack between them.
When Patsy arrived at the Kauffmans’ three days later, Susanna was already there. Their schedule of alternating days meant little after Tuesday’s spectacle in the yard. Phoebe would need them both.
Riding her stallion, Patsy circled around the edge of the clearing between fields that held the Kauffman home, barn, chicken coop, and stable. Patsy didn’t trust the stable’s structure, though. Its ramshackle slight lean in one direction deterred her from putting Galahad inside, though the Kauffman horses were there. Instead, she had taken to tying a long lead to an oak tree that bathed a portion of the rear part of the property in shadow. Susanna had unhitched her cart and left her drooping but trustworthy mare to graze.
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