by Jan Drexler
Gideon was in the kitchen with Levi, stripped to the waist, his bloody shirt on the floor. Ruby averted her eyes as she handed the clean clothes to Levi and was startled to see the blood that had seeped into the wooden floor where Daed had lain this afternoon. She must clean those stains . . . erase them before Mamm saw them.
“Did your parents go home?” Gideon asked Levi.
“Several hours ago. It has been a long day, and Father was quite shaken by the events.”
“Where is Wilhelm?”
“He left just a few minutes ago. He waited until everyone else had gone to their homes. Lena had taken their children home earlier in the afternoon, and he wanted to be with them.”
“You will stay here tonight, won’t you?” Ruby asked Levi as she pumped water into Mamm’s scrub pail. “It’s getting dark, and you can’t walk all the way home. It might be dangerous.”
Levi nodded. “I was going to ask if I could. Or Gideon and I could stay at his house.”
Gideon tucked Daed’s clean shirt into his trousers. “I want to stay here with Abraham, so I won’t be going home.”
“You can sleep upstairs, Levi,” Ruby said. “Jonas’s room is available. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight either. Mamm may need me.”
As she lifted the bucket from the sink, Levi took it from her and put it on the floor next to the bloodstain.
“I’ll go out to the barn and do the chores, then.” Levi started toward the door. “Those soldiers only took the horses. The cow still needs to be milked.”
“Two cows,” Gideon said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Bett made her way down here after we let her into the woods the other day.”
Ruby fetched Mamm’s scrub brush and the box of salt. She sprinkled the salt onto the floor, then dipped the brush in the water and started scrubbing. The stain had soaked deep into the wood. She glanced once at Gideon, but he had laid his head on the table and was sound asleep. She didn’t disturb him as she sprinkled more salt on the wood.
By the time Levi returned from the barn, Ruby had to give up. She had cleaned most of the stain, but a residue still remained, like a shadow on the wooden floor.
“That might be the best you can do,” Levi said as he sat at the table.
“I hate for Mamm to see this reminder every day.” Ruby bit her lip. She hadn’t heard a sound from the bedroom.
Levi took her pail outside while she took the brush to rinse off in the sink. As she pumped the water, Gideon stirred, then sat up.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Is everything all right?”
“Mamm hasn’t come out of the room, so I think that means Daed is sleeping.”
Levi came back and sat at the table next to Gideon. He looked as tired as Ruby felt. She served the leftover cold meat and cheese for supper, then cut slices of the pie Mamm had made for tonight’s Singing. Another reminder of how this day’s routine plans had changed with one senseless act.
After they ate, Gideon went in to check on Daed while Levi went upstairs to bed. It was full dark outside, and the waning gibbous moon was just rising. Ruby watched it through the kitchen window as she washed the dishes. She took the lamp into the front room. Someone had put the house in order during the afternoon. Most likely Samuel. She had a vague memory of his boys carrying the church benches out to the wagon in the yard.
Ruby sat in Mamm’s comfortable chair, weariness pulling her into a drowsy yawn. Gideon came out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He slumped into Daed’s chair.
“Abraham is sleeping well, and your mamm is going to sit up with him.”
“I don’t know what we would have done today without you.”
“I only did what I saw a surgeon do one time, but I’m lost from here on. I won’t know what to do if the wound doesn’t heal right.” He ran his hand through his hair. “And what if I did something wrong? What if Abraham loses the use of his shoulder? What if I destroyed something when I was trying to get the bullet out?”
Ruby leaned forward. “You saved his life. Don’t unsettle yourself by worrying that you did something wrong. Leave that in God’s hands.”
Gideon also leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “At least this time God used me to save a life.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Never mind.” He reached for her hand. “Are you doing all right? You seemed to be so strong earlier. You took care of the children and made sure Levi and I had something to eat, but you look exhausted.”
“So do you.” She smiled. “I think I’m fine, or I will be when Daed wakes up and is recovered.”
“Tomorrow will be another long day. You should sleep while you can.”
Ruby’s eyes burned. He was right, she should sleep. “I don’t think I can. What if Daed wakes up and I miss it?” She sat up, suddenly remembering. “Has anyone sent word to Elizabeth? She would want to be here too.”
Gideon squeezed her hand. “Samuel told Elizabeth. She’s staying with them tonight and will be here in the morning, along with your other sisters.”
Sleep pulled at Ruby’s mind and her thoughts swirled. Maybe she would just close her eyes for a minute. She leaned back in the chair, pulling her hand from Gideon’s grasp.
He stood, leaning over her. “Give your worries to the Lord, Ruby. He will give you rest.”
Then she felt his lips, soft and tender, kissing her forehead, but she was too close to sleep to respond.
“I should have stopped them,” Gideon said, his head bowed. “When I saw their camp last week, I should have done something.”
“What could you do?”
Abraham reclined against the pillows in his bed on Tuesday morning. He had no fever or sign of infection but was weak from losing so much blood. He had spoken of seeing to his chores that morning, but Lydia wouldn’t hear of it. Gideon was glad the older man had agreed to stay in bed for another day or two.
“I don’t know. I should have gone to Millersburg to tell someone they were here. Or I could have . . .” Gideon shifted his feet, then stood and paced the length of the bed. “Maybe I could have stolen their guns during the night, or their horses. Something to make them leave.”
“You are one man, Gideon. You did what you thought was right at the time, so don’t condemn yourself for not acting differently. Everything has worked out well.”
Gideon stopped his pacing. “You can’t mean to consider that things have turned out well when you’re lying in bed recovering from a gunshot wound.”
Abraham started to shrug, then winced as he rubbed his left arm. “I am alive. That is more than I hoped for when I saw that pistol raised.”
“I still think I’m to blame. If I had only—”
“Stop.” Abraham raised his hand to halt Gideon’s train of thought. “We’ve talked about this before. You are not to blame. You didn’t hold that pistol and fire it, did you?”
“I saw him lift it and point it at you. I could have pulled you out of the way or jumped in front of you.”
Abraham raised his eyebrows. “And then who would be wounded, or possibly dead?” He shook his head. “You know there was no time to do anything but what we did.”
Gideon paced up and down the bed again until Abraham pointed to the chair.
“Sit down, son. You’re wearing me out.”
He sat on the chair, his head in his hands. This guilt had been tearing at him ever since he had heard the jingle of harnesses and the drumming roll of hoofbeats when the raiders rode into the Weavers’ barnyard on Sunday. If Abraham had died . . .
Mein Herr . . .
“Why does this bother you so much?” Abraham waited, but Gideon couldn’t answer. “What is it that is putting you through this turmoil?”
Gideon was back in Virginia, in a dell tucked under the ridge. He held Samson and Delilah’s reins, waiting until the battle was over. Waiting . . .
For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me . . .
He had meant to confess his sin
to the Lord on Sunday, but then the raiders had come. Had he waited too long? Time passed so quickly. Had he lost the opportunity?
“Tell me, Gideon. If something is causing you distress, bring it out into the open. Don’t hide it until it festers.”
Gideon opened his palm. The place where the splinter had embedded itself was red and swollen. He had nearly forgotten about it, but he would never forget that day in the early spring.
“We were in northern Virginia, on a ridge in the mountains. The company I was with had found a small camp of the enemy. I mean, their enemy.”
He glanced at Abraham. The older man nodded, waiting for him to go on.
“I was well away from the battle, holding my team and wagon, waiting for the skirmish to end so we could go on. By that time, I had been with the soldiers for more than a month. My mind was numb. I only did what they ordered me to do and no more. I only did what I was ordered to do.”
He buried his face in his hands, trying to blot out the sights, the sounds, the acrid odor of gunpowder.
“Then the battle moved closer to me. I could hear the roll of the drums beating in cadence, and I saw soldiers on the ridge above me. The gunfire was constant, with the balls whining over my head. Cannons fired too. One cannonball hit a tree near me, cutting it in two. Then the boy landed at my feet.”
Gideon’s mind wanted to block out the memory, but he wrestled with his will. He had gone this far in slicing open the festering wound, and he wouldn’t turn back.
“He was . . . he was still alive, but I don’t know how. His body . . . was torn to pieces. His eyes shone with tears and his mouth gaped. He begged me, pleaded with me to shoot him, to end his misery. Then one of the officers saw me and the boy and thrust his pistol at me. The fighting was coming over the ridge. We would be in the middle of it soon. The officer told me to shoot the boy. To end his suffering.”
“Gideon . . .” Abraham stared at him, suffering in his eyes. Suffering for him.
Gideon shook his head. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t obey that order. The officer shoved me aside and raised his pistol. He called me a coward for letting the boy suffer. His agony was so horrible, and he was as good as dead already. Then the officer’s finger tightened on the trigger and the gun flashed.”
Gideon swallowed. The boy’s expression didn’t change after he was shot, but his eyes . . . they lost focus . . . as if a light behind them had gone out. He rubbed his hand over his face.
“Everything after that is vague. I know I tried to get the horses back, away from the fighting. The officer went down when a man from the other side thrust a bayonet through him.” He closed his eyes. “Then it was over. The other side had won. They took the surviving soldiers as prisoners, but they let me go. I led my team out of there and started for home.”
He dropped his hands and looked at Abraham.
“Where is my peace? How can I rid myself of this guilt? I stood there and watched while that officer shot the boy. He took his life and I did nothing. There were men killing men all around me, and I did nothing. Nothing.”
Mein Herr, help me . . .
Abraham’s soft voice broke through. “You have asked the Lord for forgiveness?”
Gideon’s heart wrenched. “Time and again, but I still can’t rid myself of this pain.”
“You need to accept his forgiveness. You don’t rid yourself of the burden of your guilt, Jesus Christ has already taken it on himself. But you need to believe that. Accept it. Have faith that Christ’s sacrifice was sufficient even for this.”
Opening his hand, Gideon stared at the red blister that had formed over the splinter. He had rubbed at it over the past few days, trying to work it out, but it remained there. He would need to ask Ruby to help with it. He swallowed. He had been doing the same thing with his sin. Trying to work out his own forgiveness instead of going to the only one who could help him.
He left Abraham to rest. The older man’s eyes were already closed, and his breathing was deep and even.
Ruby was in the kitchen, slicing tomatoes, preparing dinner.
“Could you help me?” Gideon asked. “Do you have time?”
“For sure. What do you need?”
“I have a splinter that I can’t get out.”
Ruby smiled at him as she rinsed and dried her hands. “Mamm keeps a needle here in the kitchen for an emergency like this.”
She found the cork in the cupboard with a needle stuck in it, then she sat next to him, holding his hand still.
“That is getting infected.” She looked at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you certain you want me to do this? It’s going to hurt.”
“For sure. Get it out of there before it gets worse.”
Ruby bent over his hand, poking at the splinter with the needle. It hurt, but Gideon concentrated on watching her loose curls wave at the edge of her kapp as she worked. He felt her squeeze the skin, then work with the needle, rubbing along the skin to remove the splinter. In a minute, she was done.
“There.” She held the tiny piece of wood up. “I can’t believe you didn’t ask me to remove this earlier. It must have been bothering you for days.”
“It has been.” He took it from her and threw it in the stove. “But now it will be better.”
She cleaned off the needle and stuck it back in the cork, then stood to put it away. She picked up her knife and started slicing the tomatoes again, her back to him as she stood at the kitchen shelf. “Dinner will be ready in a short while. Will you ring the bell?”
“For sure.”
But Gideon didn’t move right away. He had the urge to walk up behind her and clasp her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her, right where red curls shone against the nape of her neck. Would he betray Lovinia’s memory by doing that?
He went out to the back porch to ring the bell. Somehow, he didn’t think Lovinia would mind at all.
Over the next several days, Ruby and the children fell back into the routine they had followed before Gideon had moved into his house, except that she stayed with Mamm and Daed. Elizabeth remained at Samuel’s house. The raiders were still camped in the Beilers’ woods, and no one felt safe with them in the area.
By Saturday, nearly a week after the raiders had attacked them, Daed was spending time out of bed, sitting in the front room or eating with the family at the kitchen table. Even though he was still weak, his wound was healing so well that even Mamm was happy with it.
“We still need to get that hay in,” Daed said at the noon meal.
Gideon stopped in the middle of buttering a slice of bread. “You aren’t going to cut any more hay this summer, Abraham. Your shoulder won’t take that kind of work until it has more time to heal.”
“Don’t worry.” Daed winked at Sophia. “Between you, Samuel, and his boys, we should be able to get it all in without much delay. Will we still be able to store it in your barn?”
“For sure,” Gideon said. “The haymow is cleaned out and ready. Your barn here is full, but I think Samuel has some room in his.”
Sophia’s thumb was in her mouth as she stared at Daed.
“You need to eat,” Ruby reminded her. “Your corn is going to get cold.”
“She’s waiting for Abraham to die,” Roseanna said. “I told her he wasn’t, but she said he was.”
“I’m not going to die today, so eat your dinner.” Daed smiled at her again. “I’m tougher than I seem.”
“But the soldiers shot you. When you get shot, you die.” Sophia crowded close to Ruby on the bench, still watching Daed.
“Not everyone who is shot ends up dying,” Gideon said. “You can see that Abraham is getting better every day.”
Mamm passed the plate of ham to Abraham. “What are you going to do about horses? Is there any possibility of getting yours back from the raiders?”
Ruby looked at Gideon and he met her gaze. He shook his head slightly, then took another bite of his bread.
“I hope to get them back,” Daed said, “but I don’t
expect to. We’ll have to borrow Samuel’s team until I can find another pair.”
“Harvesttime is coming,” Gideon said. “Will Samuel’s team be able to handle all the work? Or should we try to get more horses before then?”
Ruby smiled to herself as she cut a slice of ham into bites for Ezra. Gideon was talking like he was part of the family rather than an outsider, and from Daed’s expression, he had noticed the change too.
“We might ask around, once we’re able to leave the valley again.”
“Do you mean you believe that the raiders are going to continue to keep us captive here?” Mamm asked.
Gideon nodded. “I think we should take them seriously. Until they move on, we need to stay in the valley.”
Ruby watched Gideon’s face as he talked. Instead of the haunted, frightened look she had seen before the raiders came, he seemed calm. Peaceful. Even though the threat was more real now than before, he was ready to meet the challenge. Something had changed.
After dinner, Ruby put Daniel and Ezra down for their naps. Mamm had started teaching Roseanna and Sophia to sew, and they were working on quilt blocks. When Ruby came downstairs, only Gideon was still in the kitchen.
“Come for a walk with me,” he said. “It is a nice afternoon, and cooler than it has been lately. We can go out and check on the corn for your daed.”
He held out his hand in an invitation, and Ruby was tempted.
“I thought I might make a cake while the oven is still hot.”
“There are still cookies left from yesterday. You can make a cake another day.”
Ruby looked around the kitchen. She didn’t want to go off and have fun if there was work waiting to be done.
“The work is done,” Gideon said, as if he could tell what she was thinking. “Come with me.”
He wiggled his fingers, his hand still extended toward her. She grinned and took his hand.
“Just for a little while.”
“Maybe for a little while.” He led her toward the cornfields to the west of the house. “Or maybe longer.”
“What if the boys wake up from their naps?”
“Lydia is there. She’ll take care of them until you get back.” He helped her as she slipped between two boards in the fence. “How long has it been since you’ve gone out to the fields?”
