Amish Days: Coming Home: A Hollybrook Amish Romance (Rhoda's Story Book 3)

by Brenda Maxfield

  When Rhoda whipped into Old Mae’s drive, her heart was in her throat. She saw movement through the front window and gasped with relief. Old Mae was home.

  She drove up to the porch and jumped down, dashing up the porch steps. Before she could even reach the door, Old Mae opened it. Rhoda nearly fell into her arms with relief.

  “Come in, child,” the wizened woman said. Her sharp eyes took in Rhoda’s disheveled appearance. “Sit down and take a breath. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Old Mae led her to her davenport.

  Rhoda balked. “I can’t sit down. We have to hurry!”

  “Rhoda Hilty, sit down,” the woman insisted. She practically pushed Rhoda down on the cushion. “Now, breathe. And then tell me what’s wrong.”

  Rhoda gulped in the warm air of Old Mae’s home. A pungent earthy aroma filled Rhoda’s nose. She blew out her breath and attempted to get ahold of herself.

  “It’s Mamm,” she said, her voice scratchy.

  “Winnie? What’s the problem? Is it her hip?” Old Mae sat beside Rhoda and rested her wrinkled hand on Rhoda’s arm.

  “Nee. She won’t eat. She refuses to eat.”

  Old Mae’s brow raised, and she pursed her lips. “Just today? Or has this been coming on?”

  “Just today.” Rhoda’s mind whirled. Had Winnie’s consumption been going steadily down since she’d gotten out of the hospital and moved to the daadi haus? “I don’t know. I think. Maybe she’s been eating less for a while now.”

  Rhoda’s shoulders dropped. Had she missed it? Had she missed the fact that Winnie was eating less and less?

  Old Mae nodded, and her eyes narrowed. “I see.”

  “She’s so thin in the first place. If she doesn’t eat…” Rhoda couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “And you are desperate.”

  “Of course, I am. Mamm isn’t eating.”

  “So…” Old Mae rubbed her hands together, her leathery skin making a hushed scratching sound.

  “Can you help us?” Rhoda asked. “Please.”

  Old Mae stood and moved to a large shelf in her dining area. For a woman of her age, her movements were surprisingly agile. She stood before shelves filled with jars of what looked to be herbs and spices. She ran her finger along the jars until she stopped and took one from the shelf. Then she repeated the action, stopping at a different jar. She took both jars to the table and unfolded a white cloth from a stack of cloths. She emptied a portion of each jar onto the cloth.

  Rhoda watched, trying to stem her rising panic. Old Mae was going to help them now. Rhoda could calm down. She could breathe.

  Old Mae refolded the cloth with the herbs inside. Then she left the room. Rhoda stood and waited. Old Mae reappeared wearing a thick coat, gloves, and a scarf. In her arms was a heavy quilt.

  “Take the medicine,” she said to Rhoda, indicating the folded cloth with a movement of her head.

  Rhoda clasped the cloth, cradling it to her chest.

  Old Mae turned to her. “Rhoda?”

  “Jah?”

  “The Lord Gott is supreme.”

  “I know.”

  “He rules over all.”

  “I know.” Rhoda tapped her foot with impatience. She didn’t need a doctrinal lesson right then. She needed to get back to Mamm.

  “Do you really know that?” Old Mae asked.

  Rhoda blinked at her. “Jah.”

  “All right then. Shall we go?” Old Mae didn’t wait for an answer. She swept out the front door and down the steps.

  Rhoda followed her, stumbling down the stairs in her rush. Old Mae had already hoisted herself onto the wagon seat. She was snuggling under the quilt. She held up one end so Rhoda could be covered also. Rhoda wasted no time in getting seated and urging Feisty forward.

  Neither spoke on the way back to Bart’s farm. Rhoda prayed—or, she tried to. Her mind kept circling back to her mother’s stubborn expression, and her tightly pressed lips.

  When they arrived, both Evelyn and Bart came outside.

  “Thank you for coming,” Bart said, helping Old Mae down.

  Old Mae turned to Rhoda. “The herbs?”

  Rhoda handed them to her.

  “I’ll see her alone.”

  Bart nodded. “Whatever you say, Old Mae.”

  Rhoda balked. “But shouldn’t we hear what you tell her?”

  Old Mae frowned. “I want to talk with her alone. She around back?”

  “Jah, in the daadi haus.” Bart offered his arm, but Old Mae waved it away. “I’ll come to the big house when I’m finished.”

  And with that, she walked away from them. Rhoda stared after her, her heart still racing.

  “Thank you, Rhoda,” Bart said, “for fetching Old Mae.”

  “But we should be there with her, don’t you think? I want to know what she says.”

  “Come on,” Evelyn said gently. She took Rhoda’s arm and led her up the porch steps and into the house.

  Rhoda stood in the middle of the room, suddenly feeling completely lost. She heard the sounds of the children ringing out from various parts of the house. She heard the kettle whistling in the kitchen. And she faintly heard Bart taking her cart and horse back to the barn.

  “The water’s hot. Let me get you a cup of tea.” Evelyn patted her shoulder and went to fetch it.

  Rhoda’s eyes watered. If Old Mae couldn’t help Winnie, then they would go see the Englisch doctors. They had all sorts of medicines that no one in their community had even heard of. She felt certain that they’d have something for her.

  Evelyn returned with two steaming cups of tea. “Come on, Rhoda. Let’s sit in the front room.”

  Together, they each sat in a rocking chair flanking the warming stove. The hot tea buoyed Rhoda. She felt its heat sink down in her chest.

  “Everything will be all right,” Evelyn said.

  There was the banging of the side door, and Bart strode into the room.

  “I’ll get you some tea,” Evelyn said, getting up and scurrying back to the kitchen.

  Bart looked at Rhoda. “Evelyn told me she wouldn’t eat. And that Mamm said she didn’t want to eat anymore. Is that the way it was?”

  Rhoda nodded, circling her cup with her hands.

  Bart sighed heavily and sat on the davenport. Evelyn returned with a cup of tea for him. All three of them sipped quietly, waiting. The tension in the room was thick, and Rhoda itched to run out to the daadi haus to see what was happening—but she had to respect Old Mae. The woman had taken care of the Hollybrook community for decades, and it wasn’t Rhoda’s place to question her.

  She emptied her cup, and still they sat, waiting.

  “Did you check on her while I was gone?” Rhoda asked Evelyn.

  “Jah. I tried again to get her to eat.” Evelyn’s face was clouded with sorrow. “She wouldn’t.”

  Bart slapped his thigh. “Well, she’s got to eat. That’s all there is to it.”

  “You can’t force food down a person’s throat,” Evelyn said.

  “We’ll have to.” Bart jumped up and left the room.

  Evelyn looked at Rhoda. “He’s scared,” she whispered.

  “So am I.” Rhoda got up and followed her brother. She found him standing at the sink, running water into his empty cup. The liquid flowed over it, running over his fingers.

  “She’s going to die,” he said.

  Rhoda put her cup on the counter. She swallowed, and a heaviness pressed down on her shoulders. Her eyes filled with tears. “I know.”

  There was noise in the wash room, and Rhoda stiffened. Bart turned off the tap. He set the cup in the sink, and they both faced the door. Old Mae was there, her energetic presence a stark contrast to how defeated Rhoda was feeling.

  “Let’s go to the front room,” she said.

  They followed her in. Evelyn was still there. A patter of footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “The kinner…” Evelyn said.

  “I’ll send them back up.” Bart went out
to the stairway. “Go on back upstairs. Play in your rooms. I’ll call you when you can come down.”

  “Aw, Dat,” Rhoda heard Gertie whine. “There ain’t nothin’ to do up here.”

  “Gertie!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  There was another pattering of footsteps as the children headed back upstairs. Bart returned to the room. He didn’t sit. He stood at the door, tugging on his beard.

  “Bart, sit down. I want to talk to all of you.”

  Bart moved into the room and sat beside Evelyn.

  “Your mamm doesn’t want to eat.”

  “We know that, Mae,” Evelyn said.

  Old Mae looked at each of them, her eyes small and intense. “She isn’t hungry.”

  “But she hasn’t eaten since yesterday!” Rhoda cried.

  Old Mae shook her head. “She’s beginning her end.”

  Rhoda’s stomach clenched. “I can make her some mashed potatoes. She loves them—”

  Old Mae frowned and made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Didn’t you hear me? She’s ready to go. She wants to see Zeb again.”

  Rhoda sank back in her chair, feeling as if her insides were crumbling.

  “She’s had a good life.” Old Mae folded her hands in her lap. Her face was a strange mixture of compassion and toughness.

  “But she’s not sick,” Bart said.

  “She’s ready to go home to Gott. We must let Gott’s will be done.”

  “I don’t see how her starving herself is Gott’s will,” Rhoda said, leaning forward again.

  Old Mae’s eyes filled with tears. “Child, death is a part of life.”

  “Nee,” Rhoda said, holding her hand to her mouth. She had a sudden urge to vomit.

  Old Mae got up and walked over to her. She placed her hand on Rhoda’s arm. Rhoda stared down at the wrinkled worn skin loosely covering her fingers, and her throat tightened.

  “There is no fear here,” Old Mae said. “Gott is in control.”

  “Isn’t there something we can do?” Rhoda asked, her voice jerking out as if it was being pulled from its roots.

  “Keep her comfortable. Love her.” Old Mae took a step back and looked at the three of them.

  Rhoda stared up at Bart. A tear trailed down his cheek. Evelyn stood up and went to her husband, putting her arm around his waist and leaning against his shoulder.

  “So, this is it then?” Rhoda asked.

  Old Mae rose to her full height, which wasn’t much over an older child’s. “We let her decide. She’ll eat if she wants to. She won’t if she doesn’t. This is her journey. Not ours.”

  Rhoda swallowed, forcing back the sob that sat on the edge of her tongue.

  Bart extricated himself from Evelyn’s hug and stepped close to Old Mae. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”

  “I can do it,” Rhoda said.

  “Nee. Let me. You go on out with Mamm. I’ll come out when I return.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bart and Old Mae left, and Rhoda sat without moving. Evelyn looked at her with red teary eyes. Rhoda shook her head.

  “It doesn’t seem right.”

  Evelyn sucked in air. “Nee. It doesn’t.”

  “We just sit around and do nothing while Mamm starves to death.”

  Evelyn rubbed her eyes. “What is our choice? We could take her back to the hospital. Have them force feed her somehow.”

  Rhoda’s stomach churned. Mamm would hate that. In fact, that alone would probably kill her.

  “I need to talk with the kinner,” Evelyn said. “Prepare them. And we need to tell Martha and Donna.”

  Rhoda nodded stiffly. “I’ll go out to her now.”

  Evelyn stepped forward and put her hand on Rhoda’s arm. “I’m sorry, Rhoda. So sorry.”

  “I know you are. And thank you…” Rhoda licked her lips and walked out of the room. She went through the wash room and out to the daadi haus without bothering to put on her cape. The frigid air hit her like a physical blow when she stepped outside.

  “Aaron,” she whispered into the wind. “Aaron. I need you here.”

  The days continued without much change. Rhoda did her best to coax her mother to eat. But Winnie would only take sips of water now and again. The very air in the daadi haus grew heavy. Grief filled each corner. It hung from the ceiling. It draped over the furniture. It followed Rhoda to bed.

  Some nights, Rhoda could barely breathe. The family rallied … even Donna. But no one could convince Winnie to eat. They decided against taking her to the hospital, honoring both her wishes and Old Mae’s. In any case, Rhoda knew that going to the hospital would cause her mother terrible anguish, and she simply couldn’t do it to her. If Winnie was going to die, it shouldn’t be in an Englischer’s hospital. Rhoda wanted to move her back to her own home, but she was too feeble. She wouldn’t survive the trip.

  Rhoda was so consumed with her mother’s care that she hadn’t written Aaron that week. Perhaps, she was avoiding it. Perhaps, if she wrote him that her mother was dying, it would make it all too true. But she yearned for him. She wished more than anything that he was there.

  During the second week, Old Mae came one late afternoon and spent a few minutes with Winnie. Rhoda was grateful. And once again, the family left the two of them alone. When Old Mae emerged and said she was ready to go home, she had a strange look on her face. Rhoda studied her, feeling anxious and unsettled. It was almost as if Old Mae was happy about something—which didn’t make sense. When Bart helped Old Mae into the buggy to take her home, Rhoda hurried back out.

  The daadi haus was warm. She glanced toward the warming stove and realized that Old Mae must have thrown another log onto it before leaving. A lantern was burning even though it wasn’t dark. Rhoda picked it up and walked into Winnie’s room.

  “Mamm? You awake?”

  Winnie rustled in the bed and pulled herself up higher on the pillow. “Rhoda?”

  “Jah. It’s me.”

  “Rhoda?”

  “Mamm, it’s me.”

  “Zeb is calling for me.” Winnie’s eyes turned glassy. “I told him I was coming. He’s excited for me.”

  Rhoda’s heart clenched.

  Winnie turned her gaze on Rhoda. Her eyes became clear. Direct. “Rhoda?”

  Rhoda nodded, feeling miserable.

  “You listenin’ to me?”

  “Jah, Mamm. I’m listening.”

  “Don’t cry.”

  Rhoda blew out her breath. “I’m not crying.”

  “No need to cry. Zeb built my house for me, you know.”

  “I know.” Rhoda thought her mother had turned lucid, but now she knew she hadn’t.

  “It’s a gut house. A strong house. We were happy there for years and years.”

  Rhoda perked up. This sounded lucid.

  “I don’t much like living here…”

  Rhoda swallowed against the guilt that rose in her throat. She would always feel bad for breaking her promise to her mother. She hadn’t wanted to move her to the daadi haus.

  Winnie clucked her tongue. “I see the guilt on your face, daughter.”

  Rhoda’s eyes widened.

  “No guilt. You had no choice. I know that.”

  Rhoda began to cry. No, she hadn’t had a choice. She hadn’t.

  “Don’t want you moaning over guilt when I’m gone. You been a gut daughter to me. And to Zeb.”

  Rhoda’s eyes blurred with tears.

  “Tell your sisters how I love them. And Bart. Tell him.”

  Rhoda nodded, the tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m tired, Rhoda. Tired. Tired. Tired.” Her voice faded into a whisper, and she closed her eyes.

  Rhoda panicked. She leaned over her. “Mamm? Mamm!”

  Winnie stirred and opened her eyes, but they were fogged over now.

  “Them bees … I hear them buzzing.” Winnie slapped at her own arms. “They’re all over me! They’re all over me!” She grew frantic, her voice sharp. />
  Rhoda grabbed her arms, pressing them back on the bed. “Nee, Mamm! The bees are outside. They’re not in here. You’re fine. Fine.”

  Tears rolled down Winnie’s cheeks. “Zeb built my house for me.”

  Rhoda’s throat felt as if it lodged a brick. She could barely swallow as she watched her mother grow more and more confused.

  “He’s calling me,” Winnie said, frenzied. “Zeb! Zeb!”

  “It’s okay, Mamm,” Rhoda choked out. “He’s here. He loves you. We all love you.”

  Winnie settled, and her hands grew still.

  “We love you, Mamm,” Rhoda repeated in a whisper. “Rest now. You can rest.”

  Winnie’s eyes sprang open. “I want to go home.”

  Rhoda winced. Did she mean home to their farm? Or…

  “Rhoda?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Rhoda?”

  “Jah, Mamm.”

  “I want to go home. I want Zeb.”

  Rhoda blinked back her tears. She didn’t know if she could speak. Her throat was completely constricted now. She fought for her own breath.

  “I want to go home.”

  Rhoda sank onto the bed and put her head on her mother’s chest. She lay there for a long moment, listening to her mother’s faint heartbeat and feeling her bony frame. A peace stole over her. “Go home, Mamm. Go home now. Go home to Dat.”

  With a gulping gasp, Winnie uttered a cry of joy.

  And then she went limp.

  Rhoda squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath.

  Winnie’s heartbeat stilled. Her body went completely limp. Rhoda wept, her sobs shaking the both of them.

  “Good bye, Mamm,” she eked out. She put her hand over her mouth and lay on her mother’s dead body, weeping.

  Chapter Nine

  Rhoda wasn’t sure how long she lay there. She only knew that when Bart returned and came into the daadi haus, he found her on their mother’s chest.

  “Rhoda?” Bart stopped short.

  Rhoda sat up and wiped her face with her apron. “She’s gone.”

  “What?” Bart rushed forward. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s gone,” Rhoda repeated. She got up stiffly and backed away from the bed.

  “Mamm!” Bart cried. He bent over her and let out a moan. “Nee! Nee!” He looked at Rhoda. “What happened?”