The Englisch Daughter

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Mike gestured toward his office. “Let’s take a look and listen.”

  Chris went inside the small space and sat on a bench.

  Mike grabbed an ophthalmoscope and looked in Chris’s eyes. He looked in his ears. He checked his heart rate and blood pressure. “Remove your shirt and lie down.”

  As soon as Chris took off his shirt, Mike gestured at the bruises across his abdomen. “What happened?”

  “Two guys, one with a bat, but I got what I needed from them.”

  “Sounds worth it to me. Any nausea?”

  “No.”

  “Have you spit up or peed blood?”

  “No, but I coughed up blood for a day after the baseball bat incident.”

  “That’s not happening now?”

  “Stopped about thirty hours ago.”

  “Dizziness? Heart racing?”

  “Ya, but only when Abi comes into view.”

  Mike chuckled. “Never heard you mention a woman before.”

  “Never met one like her before. Aren’t you about done pushing on me?”

  Mike stopped and motioned for Chris to sit up. “How important is this next fight?”

  “Very. It’s the whole reason I came to you to start training in the first place.”

  He nodded. “Any chance you can postpone it?”

  “No.”

  Mike shrugged. “Okay. It is what it is. You can start training, but we need your sparring partners to go easy on your upper abdomen for a few weeks.”

  Mike grabbed two hand wraps off a nearby shelf and pulled up a stool next to Chris. He jerked Chris’s right wrist toward him and started wrapping it. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

  Chris snickered. “Thanks for believing in me.”

  Mike wrapped his right hand tight and had Chris make a fist. “Train more and I’ll believe in you.” He smacked Chris’s knuckles.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Chris extended his left hand.

  “Yeah, but you aren’t here enough.” Mike wrapped his left wrist and knuckles tight. “You’ll need to fix that if you hope to win the next fight.”

  Chris knew that was true. He’d told Dan that if Mike said he could fight, then someone had to fill in for Chris at the Graber Horse Farm or Chris couldn’t train.

  Mike stood and left the office. Chris followed, and they stopped at the heavy bags. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  Chris started light, throwing a straight jab followed by a straight left.

  “One, two, hook,” Mike said.

  Chris obeyed.

  “No.” Mike pushed him away from the heavy bag. “You’re throwing your hook too wide, leaving your chin open. It might work well on someone who doesn’t box, but a boxer will pick that apart. Come in tight with it.” Mike punched the bag, demonstrating.

  Chris tried and looked back at Mike.

  Mike nodded. “Better.” Mike returned to the shelf and put pads on his hands. “About how big is this guy?”

  Chris shook his head. “Bigger than me.”

  “Well”—Mike held up the pads in front of Chris—“you want to come forward then. Back him up. See if he can fight while stepping back.”

  Chris tried it on the pads. He dropped his hands for a second, and Mike slapped him. “Keep that guard up.”

  Chris nodded.

  “You’re already out of practice.” Mike sighed. “If the fight is in three weeks, you need to be in this gym every single day, practicing morning, afternoon, and night. You need to room here.”

  “As soon as someone fills in for me on the Graber Horse Farm”—Chris panted, trying to catch his breath—“I’ll be here, but not a day before then.”

  “If you’re gonna be ready for a trained fighter, you’ve got to train.” He shook his head and sighed. “Four.”

  Chris threw four punches in a row, all the while stepping forward. He couldn’t leave the farm just yet. He needed at least a few days, maybe a week, even if the replacement ended up being Dan. His brother had to get through this week or he’d lose his job. But if need be, after this week, Dan could be on the Graber farm the next two weeks without causing work problems. Chris was trying to be fair and yet also insist Dan be available to work if Chris was here, getting ready for the fight. Leaving the Grabers was a compromise Chris didn’t want to make, but it seemed clear that setting new boundaries couldn’t be done all at once without hurting people’s lives.

  They spent the session working on footwork, and his trainer taught him how best to move forward on a bigger guy.

  Chris’s Amish clothes were covered in sweat by the time he was done. He’d forgotten to throw clean clothes into a gym bag. Usually he didn’t bother bringing a change with him. After a workout he’d always gotten in his rig and driven home to shower and change. The thought made him miss home, miss his Mamm and Daed. How had home become a place where he was no longer welcome?

  Mike threw him a towel. “That’s all your body can do for today.”

  Chris went to the locker room and rinsed his face and hands. His shirt was drenched, and he wished he’d thought to take it off. He wasn’t himself right now. Not seeing his folks bothered him, and he understood why Abigail was now unsure of him. He wasn’t who she thought he was. He went through the gym and out the door. Mike was there smoking another cigarette.

  Chris stepped beside him. “You think this is crazy, don’t you?”

  Mike shook his head. “Not my job to tell you what’s crazy.”

  Chris shifted. He knew the truth. Mike didn’t need to tell him. He was giving himself three weeks to train for a fight when he needed months to prepare for it. He was trying to do the right thing by his brother, but win or lose, if this fight didn’t clear the debt, then what?

  “Thanks for today. I’ll be back to stay as quick as I can.”

  “A crappy room and I will be here waiting.”

  Chris had to return to the horse farm if for no other reason than tomorrow was his first church Sunday in Mirth, and Abigail’s uncle, as bishop, had been very clear that Chris was to attend, clean shaven. He pulled out his phone, opened the Uber app, and requested a car. When this effort for Dan began, the plan seemed straightforward. Now he wanted freedom to reset his priorities—courtesy of his interest in one Abigail Graber—but he wasn’t free to follow his heart.

  Once this was behind him, could they start fresh, or would her strong opinions and even stronger boundaries stand guard between them?

  Nineteen

  Abigail pulled a pan of lasagna out of Jemima’s oven. The little ones who weren’t crying were running through the house squealing. It had felt strange for it to be a Monday and not be teaching in her classroom, but Jemima seemed to need her during the day for moral support more than anything.

  Heidi was inconsolable at times both day and night. They’d changed her formula, using one for babies with extra-sensitive stomachs, but it hadn’t helped. She had a few rough hours each night, and her crying woke Simeon, who fussed whenever his Mamm or Daed was holding the new baby. How did one so young know when another baby was moving into his territory? Simeon’s protests woke Nevin, sometimes Carolyn too. During the day, Abigail worked with the older children to settle them. She didn’t know how the workload was divided at night, but the stress level in this home was high twenty-four hours a day. Her brother wanted to keep Heidi? Abigail was doing her best not to share her opinion, verbally or through body language, but it wasn’t easy.

  Right now Jemima was a few feet away, rocking a crying Heidi, and Roy had taken Simeon into the other room to quiet him. Simeon cried whenever Heidi did, as if that was helpful. Each one of them took turns trying to soothe Heidi.

  The back door opened, and Abigail turned to see Chris. She raised a brow. “Just in time for food. Why am I not surprised?”

  As much as Abigail
loved cooking—and she really did—she had enjoyed it much more since Chris had entered the picture. He wasn’t shy about enjoying the food she made.

  He grinned and hung his hat and coat on a peg. “My Mamm didn’t raise no fool.”

  “That she did not.” His Mamm had raised a devilishly handsome and smart man who thought fighting was a sport, like playing a game of baseball in an open field. The disappointment of that ran deep, but at least she’d learned of it early on.

  He disappeared up the stairs, and she knew he’d be back down, showered and with clean clothes on, before she got the food on the table and the children situated.

  Last night, after she’d had a miserably long Sabbath with crying or whiny children, he’d asked if she wanted to get a bite of dinner in town, as friends. How could she say no? Chris was fun to be around, comfortable in his own skin, and interesting on every topic. For reasons she couldn’t fully pinpoint, he was different from any other man she’d known but also dangerous in his own way. No one could live as he had—half in the Amish world and half out—and not be dangerous. Evidently he’d been really good at keeping a lid on his lifestyle when living with his parents in Scarsdale. She had to keep reminding herself that his ways were none of her business, but a part of her wanted to set him straight so they could have a real chance at being together. As a friend she didn’t have the right to go there.

  Roy walked into the room, carrying Simeon. “He’s asking for his Mamm.”

  Jemima patted her lap, still holding Heidi on one shoulder. “Hi, sweetie. You hungry?”

  He whined, reaching for her. Roy put Simeon in her lap, and she eased Heidi into Roy’s good arm.

  “Denki, Jem.”

  Jemima didn’t answer or look at him. She simply unfastened the hidden nursing fold in the bodice of her dress to feed Simeon.

  Roy swayed Heidi while walking out of the room, taking the noise and a lot of stress along with them. Thankfully his agility and mobility had improved in the last couple of days. It’d been a week since he’d staggered home. He would be in a cast for at least another month. She pretty much knew where he’d be physically in the next several weeks, but where would they be in their marriage in another month?

  She bit her tongue a dozen times a day when in their home. It was hard to believe they were the same couple who’d wedded and been excited over the birth of each child.

  Someone rapped on the front door and opened it. “Hallo?”

  “Daed?” Abigail moved toward him, hoping to get him out of the house.

  Jemima tensed up the moment he walked in.

  “I need to talk to Roy.”

  “Now’s not a good time, Daed.” Abigail gestured to the door he’d just entered.

  “Stuff and nonsense. He’s got to be feeling well enough to be seen by now. Besides, there’s an issue I need to see him about.”

  Chris bounded down the stairs. “Luke, good to see you.”

  Her Daed grinned and held out his hand. “Chris.”

  Well, her Daed didn’t have any qualms with Chris, despite how his brother, the bishop, felt.

  “Something I can help you with?” Chris asked.

  “Nice offer, but not likely. By now I usually have an envelope with cash from Tiffany for rent. Since I haven’t received that, I went to her place to collect it, but someone’s broken into her home. She and most of her stuff are gone. I’m wondering if we might need to call the police.”

  “Nah. No need for that. I think she took off. Is that right?” Chris looked at Jemima.

  “Ya.”

  Chris started toward the back door. “But why don’t we go over there and take a look around. We could assess the damage. I could replace whatever’s broken and clean it up for a new tenant.”

  Roy walked into the room with Heidi in the crook of his arm and stopped the moment he saw his Daed.

  “Whose baby is that?” Daed pointed at Heidi.

  “Uh, hi.” Roy said, trying to stall.

  “This is Heidi,” Jemima said.

  “Who?”

  Jemima stood, her face taut. “Tiffany gave birth to her a little more than seven weeks ago, and she abandoned her last week.”

  “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

  “The situation is complicated, and we’re not saying anything about it just yet.”

  Daed looked from the baby to Roy. “Sure. I’ll tell no one, but without your uncle giving another Sunday meeting you can miss, and he won’t do that for a broken arm, then if Tiffany is still gone by the next church Sunday, it won’t be a private matter after that.”

  The resignation on Jemima’s face sent an ache through Abigail. Her Daed was right, and they’d known long before now that keeping this infant a secret was impossible. Members could not miss a church meeting without a good reason, and they couldn’t lie about the reason, so Heidi would be found out come next church Sunday in two weeks. Once people knew she was staying here, Roy and Jemima would be peppered with questions they would have to answer.

  “Did you want to stay for dinner, Daed?” Roy asked.

  Daed shook his head. “Nee, your Mamm’s got a roast in the oven. I don’t suppose Tiffany paid the rent before she left.”

  “Nee.”

  Abigail knew that part was complete truth. She’d overheard Roy and Jemima arguing about the fact that Roy had been paying Tiffany’s rent for the last nine months.

  Daed turned to Chris. “I’ve talked to my brother about you, and I know he’s giving you some grief, but Abigail is rather fond of you.”

  “Daed,” she chided.

  Chris smiled in a nonchalant way, as if Abigail meant nothing special to him. “We’ve made a good team since the horses came in, and I know she appreciates that I’m a hard worker.”

  It bothered Abigail that Chris seemed overly comfortable spinning reality to sound like something it wasn’t.

  “Well, maybe that’s all it is,” Daed said. “But let me be frank. If you give up fighting and want to settle down, I’ve got acres of land you can rent for the price of paying the property tax. I bought land years ago for my six children to divide up and live on, and only two stayed in the area. You could even rent that little house Tiffany moved out of for nearly nothing.”

  “Daed!” Abigail’s cheeks burned. “Why not offer him a dowry while you’re at it?”

  Daed focused on Chris. “Would it help?”

  Abigail grabbed the closest items, two empty plastic cups, and threw them at him.

  Daed swatted one away with his hand, was hit by the other, and broke into laughter. “ ’Cause if it would help, Chris, I’ll sell every square inch of land I own to come up with a dowry. She’s nothing but trouble!”

  Everyone was laughing as Abigail walked over to her Daed and started shoving him out the door.

  “Name your price, Chris!” he called over his shoulder, his voice and laughter fading as Abigail closed the door behind him. When she moved out of her Daed’s home, whether she was getting married or not, her Daed would miss her something fierce. They were two peas in a pod most evenings. A few years ago she’d insisted he learn how to cook, and much to his surprise he took to it like a horse let loose in a lush green pasture. Daed and she talked and laughed their way through most meal preps. Mamm, who’d raised six children the traditional Amish way and spent half of her day in the kitchen cooking and cleaning, now used that time to read or crochet or do whatever else suited her. Afterward the three of them washed dishes and then played board games.

  The chuckles faded, but the laughter he’d stirred felt like fresh air being piped into a dank cave.

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “What’d I tell you the first day we met, Chris? My Daed would throw a celebration if he saw me walking with a guy.”

  A moment later the door popped open. “I was just kidding.” Daed winke
d at Abigail. “I’d pay all I have to keep her, not that she’s mine to keep.”

  “You.” Abigail pointed out the door. “Go.”

  He blew her a kiss and was gone.

  “Chris”—Roy went to the dish drainer and grabbed a clean pacifier—“it sounds as if Daed will be even more disappointed by your leaving on Sunday morning than we are.”

  What? Blood rushed to Abigail’s heart, making it quiver. “You’re leaving?”

  Chris shifted from one foot to the other. “For a while.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “You got into the buggy last night saying you were desperate for fun and uplifting conversations, but I was going to tell you tonight.”

  “Sorry.” Roy eased Heidi into her bassinet. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d already told Abigail.”

  Chris seemed frustrated, but he nodded.

  “Roy’s in no shape to work the farm alone.” Abigail looked at her brother and then at Chris. “Jemima now has two babies to tend to, so she can’t fill in. The farm has two strings of horses that need tending and training when the extra work of quarantine is over. I return to work next Monday, and you’ve not been here two full weeks yet, but you’re leaving?”

  “I’ve made arrangements for someone to fill in for me.”

  “How did you find a skilled stableman and trainer this quickly?”

  “He’s not particularly skilled, but Roy will be on his feet enough to give instructions. It’s a cousin, Aaron Fisher. He’s a hard worker, and he’ll learn fast.”

  “Great. We could have an EHV-1 outbreak, and…” Abigail suddenly realized why he was leaving. “You’re going to fight.”

  Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to do this, Abi.”

  Her heart ignited with ire. “You’re still stiff and injured from the fight to get Heidi. This isn’t what’s best for you, Chris. This is what your brother needs, not you.” She knew she sounded horrified, and she willed herself to respond calmly. “You could get seriously hurt.”