A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  “When did you arrive?” Ruby asked Duncan, wondering just how long Old Man Wallis had been on his own.

  “Just a week ago. We had a letter from my uncle that the farmer leasing his land had gone off to fight, so my parents sent me.”

  “Have you been here before?” Ruby asked.

  The man shook his head. “This is my first time to Lancaster County.” Duncan stood, told Mamm it was nice to meet her, and then told both of them good-bye. Ruby handed him the rope and thanked him again for loaning it to her.

  “I see your brother got the fence fixed.”

  Ruby hadn’t noticed. She wondered if Zachary had slept at all the night before. She glanced toward the woodpile, guessing she had enough to get through the next couple of months at least.

  “I saw him leave,” Duncan said. “With the Patriots.”

  Ruby nodded and then took a deep breath. “Are you all right? After last night? I don’t know what got into me—I wasn’t thinking, not at all, when I pulled my foot away like that.”

  His eyes darkened a little. “I’m fine.” He held up the rope and said, “I’ll be on my way.”

  Ruby watched him step and then shuffle, step and then shuffle away, leaning against his crutch with each movement, sure he was limping more than he had the day before. She returned to the porch and finished peeling the last couple of apples and then helped Mamm inside as the rain clouds darkened on the horizon.

  She did the evening milking, fed the cows, calf, and workhorses, and herded the chickens into their coop. Then she heated their leftover dinner for supper.

  Never in Ruby’s life had there been only two people around the old oak table.

  She thought of Paul and wondered how far they’d traveled in two days, alarmed they’d only been gone that long. It felt as if it had been weeks already.

  That night, after she got Mamm settled in her bed, Ruby took out her mending and sat by the flickering fire. As she repaired a tear along the hem of her most-worn dress, she said the Lord’s Prayer silently and then prayed for the travelers, for the new soldier, for Mamm, and for herself. Just as she finished, the rain started. It sounded like a downpour. Ruby shivered, thinking about the muddy mess the farm would soon turn into. She didn’t know how she would possibly keep up with all of the chores. Feeding the animals. Mucking out the stalls. Keeping the calf in his pen. Harvesting the corn. Lord, she prayed. Give me the strength to do all I need to. And to serve Mamm as you would.

  She sat quietly for a moment, watching the flames flicker and sputter. Her thoughts fell to the events of the day, and she felt compelled to pray for one more. Lord, please bless Duncan Wallis and heal him, body and soul. As only you can do.

  It rained for the next week. On the sixth night of rain, a loud knocking woke Ruby from a deep sleep. She hurried to the door, making out voices on the other side. She checked to make sure the latch was down and then crept to the window. Three Patriot soldiers stood on the porch. One knocked again. She waited, crouched by the window, contemplating if she should sneak out the back door and solicit Duncan’s help. Finally the soldiers left on their own.

  Perhaps she’d need more help than she’d anticipated. And not just with safety. The corn needed to be harvested soon. She’d hoped their minister, Johann Fischer, might assist her, but she hadn’t heard from him since Hans and Paul and the rest departed.

  The more it rained, the deeper and deeper the mud grew and the more restless the calf became. On the first somewhat dry morning, it escaped the pen as Ruby tried to muck it out and headed toward the Wallis place. By the time Ruby reached it, the calf had broken through the fence again. Ruby’s tears fell like the rain. She still needed to get Mamm up and fed. And then get the bread started.

  Ruby stepped over the snapped boards and onto the neighbors’ property. The calf had headed straight for Old Man Wallis’s field of corn. Ruby hurried after the calf just as Duncan came out, leaning against his crutch and waving a scythe. Ruby couldn’t fathom what he was doing with it.

  “Sorry,” she called out, trying to get ahead of the calf. “Once I get him back home, I’ll fix the fence.”

  Duncan waved the scythe in his hand and stepped wide, leaning on his crutch. The calf cut to the left just as Ruby stepped forward to block the way. She untied her apron and pulled it out from under her cape and began waving it, turning the calf back toward home. Duncan limped along on the other side with the scythe spread wide, trying to persuade the calf not to head toward the Wallis cabin. The calf turned toward him, but he yelled and the calf staggered back, heading toward the fence. Once Ruby and Duncan herded the calf through, Ruby got him back in the pen and then secured the gate.

  She called out to Duncan, who stayed by the fence. “I’ll make the repairs this afternoon.”

  “I’ll see what I can do now,” he said.

  “What were you doing in the cornfield?” she asked.

  He held up the scythe.

  “It’s too wet,” she called out. “Wait a day or two.” She stepped closer to the fence. She hesitated, fearing perhaps she was being to forward, but she decided to ask anyway. “In fact, perhaps we could help each other.”

  “That wouldn’t be very fair now, would it?”

  Her face grew warm. He hadn’t seen her work—he had no idea what she could do. “What do you mean?”

  He pointed the scythe toward his bad leg. “I doubt I can keep up with you.”

  “Oh goodness,” she said. “I saw you swinging that thing. But you need to wait until the stalks dry out. A few days of sunshine and we should be able to complete the task together.” If he could do the cutting, she could bundle up the stalks. They both needed the feed for their livestock.

  Duncan bowed a little. “Thank you for the instruction.”

  Ruby wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not. Perhaps her face showed her confusion because he said, “I meant that sincerely. I’m not a farmer. Far from it.”

  He’d said that before.

  “My father is a businessman. I’m used to people and trading.” He gestured with the scythe toward the calf and then back to his field of corn. “Not cattle and crops.”

  “Well,” Ruby said. “I don’t have much experience farming either except watching my father and brothers my entire life. But I think, together, we can figure it out.” She would need someone’s help if she and Mamm were to survive, and at this point Duncan was available while the remaining men in her community didn’t seem to be. It wouldn’t hurt to accept his help, and help him in return.

  She called out, “Have you repaired the brim around your spring?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Your spring was flooding. The stonework needs to be redone.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “I’ll do it for you,” she said, stepping over the downed boards of the fence. It didn’t take her long to reset the stones, stopping the overflow that flooded the garden. The springs on both farms were invaluable to the properties. Good, clean water was priceless. Dat had often talked about how if they followed Christ, living water would flow from them. Working on the spring reminded Ruby of that.

  The good weather held, and two days later Ruby and Duncan worked together, first in the Wallis cornfield and then in the Bachmanns’. The work was slow and tedious, and they didn’t talk much. Ruby took breaks throughout the day to check on Mamm. Old Man Wallis seemed to be doing better. He trudged out to the field a couple of times to oversee the work, and once he ventured over to the Bachmanns’ front porch and said hello to Mamm.

  “He seems to have rallied,” Duncan said, watching his uncle totter across the field.

  “Will you be staying, then?” Ruby asked. “Or going back home?”

  “I’ll be staying,” he answered. “At least through the winter.” He didn’t seem happy about it, and Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if there were other reasons for him to be in Lancaster County, besides helping his uncle.

  Still, relief washed over Ruby. The man had been
rude, but perhaps that wasn’t his usual way. The truth was, Duncan could do more than he realized, and she appreciated having him next door.

  The day after they finished the work in the cornfields, Ruby baked two apple pies and took one over to Duncan and Old Man Wallis. She could hear the axe ringing out as she approached. Duncan had braced the foot of his bad leg against one stump, and then used another stump to split the wood. He didn’t see Ruby for a few minutes. When he finally did, she waved and then held up the pie.

  “I’ll put it on the porch,” she said.

  “You can put it on the table, inside the house,” he answered, and then started swinging the axe again. Perhaps if he took a break, it would be hard to get resituated again. She let herself into the house, calling out a hello. No one answered. Perhaps Old Man Wallis was resting.

  She hadn’t noticed a thing about the inside of the cabin the night she’d caused Duncan to fall. Now she did. There wasn’t much furniture. Just a table and two chairs and a bed in the corner where Ruby realized Old Man Wallis slept. Ruby tiptoed to the table and set the pie in the middle. She wondered what food the two men had for the winter. Old Man Wallis had planted his garden in the spring but it hadn’t been well tended—and then her calf had damaged it. She’d have to see what she and Mamm could spare. She left the cabin as quietly as she’d entered. The truth was, Mamm was eating less and less. Ruby had been so sure that her mother would recover, but day by day she was trying to be as realistic as possible. Mamm’s speech hadn’t grown better or worse, and yet she seemed to be talking less and less. And the use of her arm hadn’t grown any better.

  Several times, through October and early November, Ruby delivered food to Duncan and Old Man Wallis. A bag of potatoes. Then some turnips. A crock of dried apples. When it came time to butcher the hog, Ruby asked Duncan to help, saying she’d give him a ham and shoulder after they were smoked for his troubles. On a clear, frosty mid-November morning, Ruby and Duncan got to work. Thankfully, Duncan was fine shooting the hog. It wasn’t that he relished it, but for a city boy he was a perfect marksman. Ruby guessed his military training probably played a role.

  They waited until the animal stopped convulsing and then carried it to the hook and pulley hanging from the pole her father had installed many years ago. Somehow, Duncan managed to carry the head with one arm while crutching along with the other, and then he was able to help Ruby string the animal up and then lower it into the cauldron of hot water below. Next, Duncan helped Ruby scrape the hair off the animal, cut up the meat, and then salt the pork and pack it in barrels, which were stored in the smokehouse. In a couple of months, Ruby would hang the meat and then start the fire.

  The work was long and hard, and by the end of the day Ruby was exhausted. She couldn’t imagine how Duncan’s leg must have ached, but he never complained.

  She noticed that a few times he managed to take a few steps without his crutch. She hoped that meant it was still getting better. She didn’t ask though. His leg definitely seemed to be a touchy topic.

  In the middle of December, Duncan ventured to the inn in Lancaster. Ruby asked him to stop by the minister’s farm on his way and tell him that Mamm wasn’t doing well. She also gave Duncan the small amount of change she had and asked him to buy sugar for her from the inn, if he could. She hoped to at least do a little Christmas baking. When he returned, he said the minister’s wife had been ill and therefore he was unable to visit Ruby and her mother.

  And he handed her the money. “They haven’t had any sugar for weeks,” Duncan said. “But I have something else for you.”

  He held up a piece of paper. It was a letter from Paul.

  Ruby thanked him and slipped it into her apron pocket. It was the first word she’d had from him, or from anyone who had headed north, and she wanted to read it in private. She hadn’t heard a word from or about Zachary. She supposed that in his case no news was good news.

  After Duncan left, Ruby sat beside the fire and read the short letter. It was dated the middle of November, four weeks ago.

  We’ve settled on the land Hans secured for us. Three cabins are nearly completed. We’ll build more, including one for you and me and my Mamm, in the spring.

  Her heart warmed at the thought of sharing a home with Paul.

  The first snow has fallen. The hunting is good. We’ll not be short of meat. If you’re not already on your way, encourage Zachary to bring you and your Mamm and the rest of the livestock soon, before the snow makes it impossible. Hans said he can return in the spring to secure a buyer for the property.

  That was all. Obviously Hans hadn’t received Zachary’s letter. Obviously Paul was overly optimistic. Even if Zachary hadn’t left, there was no way they could make a trip with the remaining cows, calf, and the workhorses. And Mamm. She was growing weaker every day.

  Ruby folded the letter and slipped it back into her pocket, wishing Paul had written something more personal about missing her. But he probably didn’t have extra time, ink, or paper to write such things. She wrote Paul back, explaining that Zachary had written to Hans, but obviously the letter hadn’t arrived. She explained that Zachary had joined the Patriots. And that Mamm was growing weaker. She asked him to return as soon as he could and bring Hans with him. She had no power to sell the land on her own.

  The next day, she asked Duncan to take the letter to the inn for her and post it. Even though the day was wet and cold, he rode his mare into town. The day seemed to drag on forever. She couldn’t get Mamm to leave her bed, and all she ate were a few bites of porridge. After the evening milking, when it was dark, Duncan finally returned. When he knocked on the cabin door, Ruby bid him in by the fire.

  Rain dripped from his hat and oilskin coat. “The temperature is dropping,” he said. “We’ll either get ice or snow by morning.” He shivered.

  “Take off your coat,” she said. “I’ll get you a blanket and make you a cup of tea.”

  He obliged. Ruby took his coat and then pushed a chair closer to the fire for him. He reached into his bag before he sat. “You had two letters today.”

  Her heart raced. Perhaps Zachary’s letter had arrived in Canada after all, and Paul had written to say he would soon be arriving.

  She hung Duncan’s coat on a peg and then returned for the letters. One was Paul’s handwriting, but the other she didn’t recognize. She opened Paul’s first.

  Zachary’s letter to Hans arrived the day after Paul sent his letter.

  Hans asked me to write to you. He’s been ill and is just now recovering. He has no strength to travel and needs me to stay to complete the cabins, plus my Mamm has fallen ill, too, and I can’t leave her now. At this point, Hans says you should stay on the farm until spring. If Zachary hasn’t returned by then, Hans will return to Lancaster County and sell the farm.

  Goodness. She folded the letter and placed it on the table, suddenly aware that Duncan watched her.

  She quickly unfolded the second letter.

  It was written in charcoal and smudged and hard to read.

  I’m writing for your brother, Zachary Bachmann. He was injured last week. We’re now at Valley Forge. He wanted you to know that he won’t be home anytime soon.

  Ruby gasped.

  “What is it?” Duncan asked.

  “Where is Valley Forge?”

  “This side of Philadelphia,” Duncan answered. “Why?”

  “Zachary’s been injured. That’s where he is recuperating.”

  “I heard Washington’s army retreated there,” Duncan said, “after crossing the Delaware.” He frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know if this is accurate, but I heard today at the inn that they’re building structures for shelter for hundreds of soldiers and that they’re ill-equipped—as far as both supplies and food.”

  “Of course it’s accurate.” Ruby stood. “I’ll go get him,” she said. “Why should he be cold and hungry at Valley Forge when he could be fed and warm here?”

  “R
uby,” Duncan said. “It’s nearly sixty miles. How will you get there?”

  “The workhorses and wagon. I’ll get started in the morning.”

  “What about your mother?”

  Ruby hesitated. Mamm wasn’t doing well, not at all. “Can you care for her?” It was a lot to ask of Duncan, she knew. Perhaps with his uncle’s help they could do it. “Perhaps Zachary is badly wounded. What if I don’t go and he dies?” She felt ill. What if both Mamm and Zachary left her?

  Duncan grabbed his crutch and stood. “It’s not safe for you to go. I’ll do it for you.”

  10

  Jessica

  When I woke up the next morning just after four, I thought of Duncan’s words: “I’ll do it for you.” He was a true friend to Ruby. That was the sort of friend Silas had been to me, before our last fight. Before I left. He’d shown his friendship again, though, the other night when he sat with me during supper.

  Tom was that sort of friend too. What would I have done without him the day before? He’d been there for me, absolutely.

  I thought of Paul and his terse letters. So he was a man of few words. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care for Ruby. They were definitely committed to each other. Ruby hadn’t wanted to leave Lancaster, but she was willing to go to Canada for Paul. I climbed out of bed and dressed quickly in the cold, dark bedroom.

  I couldn’t help but wonder which of the Bachmann brothers ended up with the land. Did Hans come back with his family? Or maybe Daniel? Hopefully Zachary survived his wounds.

  I slipped out of the bedroom and down the landing, deciding I’d skip making coffee and head straight to the barn. I put on Aenti Suz’s work coat on the back porch and slipped my feet into a pair of rubber boots, guessing they were Leisel’s. Then I headed out to the barn in the still-dark morning. Surprisingly the lights were on already. I glanced at Aenti Suz’s house. I hadn’t expected Amos to arrive before me.

  At first I didn’t see anyone. Then I heard whistling. My heart began to race as Silas stepped through the far door with the first of the cows. He smiled a little and waved.