Leah's Choice

by Marta Perry

  Daniel seemed to glance at the other windows of the sleeping house, then at the figure on the seat. Anna didn’t move. He looked up at her again and gestured for her to come down.

  She waved to signify that she understood. Ducking back inside, she grabbed a shawl from its hook and threw it around her. No time to worry about her hair, tumbling in a braid to her waist, or her bare feet and nightgown. Something had happened to Anna.

  She fled silently down the stairs, her mind a jumble of prayers. Please, Father, please, Father, help her. Help us.

  No sound broke the stillness of the house as she hurried through the kitchen to the back door. Levi and Barbara were sound sleepers, and their windows faced the other way. And Mamm and Daadi were staying at Joseph and Myra’s tonight to get an early start going to market tomorrow, so the daadi haus was empty.

  She swung the door open carefully, mindful of its creak, and hurried across the porch and down the steps to where Daniel waited.

  “What are you doing here? What’s happened to Anna?” She threw the questions toward him in a hoarse whisper as she hurried past him to the buggy. “Anna—” She reached for her sister.

  Anna, slumped against the seat, didn’t stir. She turned to Daniel, furious that he just stood there. “She’s hurt or sick—”

  “She’s drunk,” he said, his voice low and flat. “Asleep by now, and you won’t be able to wake her anytime soon.”

  Not content with his explanation, she climbed the buggy step to get close to her sister. “Anna,” she said again, pulling at her arm.

  Anna moved her head a little, seeming to attempt to rouse herself, and then sank back against the seat again, letting out a small snore. With it came the stench of alcohol.

  Leah stared at her for a long moment. Then she stepped down again, turning to Daniel. She could only pray that in the dim light, he wouldn’t be able to tell how embarrassed she was.

  The horse shifted a little, probably wondering why he was standing here instead of being turned into his comfortable stall. The crickets, their noise interrupted for a few moments by the goings-on, began their ceaseless chirping again.

  She took a breath. “How is it you’re bringing her home?” Daniel would hardly have been wherever it was Anna had been drinking.

  “I heard her buggy coming down my lane.” He stepped closer, whispering. “She near enough put it in the ditch before I got to her.”

  Tears stung Leah’s eyes—for her sister and the trouble she was in, for herself and her inability to protect Anna. “Denke,” she murmured. “It is kind of you—”

  “That can wait.” He clasped her wrist, holding it loosely in one strong hand. “We’re got to get her settled before the whole house is awake. Can we get her to her room?”

  Why he was helping, when he so clearly disapproved of Anna, she couldn’t imagine, but she was grateful. She’d never be able to manage on her own.

  “No.” Her mind raced. “The daadi haus. My parents are away for the night. If we can get her in there, she’ll be all right for the moment.” She turned, starting to climb into the buggy. “I’ll get her—”

  Daniel clasped Leah by the waist and lifted her down. “She’s too heavy for you.” He climbed up in one long stride, leaned over, and slid his arms around Anna, pulling her to the edge of the seat and then lifting her down.

  She lolled in his arms like a rag doll, her unbound hair falling to cover her face.

  Anna, what were you doing? Where is this going to end?

  “This way.” She led the way quickly across the grass toward the daadi haus, safely away from the vicinity of Levi and Barbara’s bedroom. She was thankful, in a numb sort of way, for his help. She could never have carried Anna’s dead weight on her own.

  They went quickly up the stairs, with a little less need to be silent here. Leah pushed open the door to the small extra bedroom, thanking God that the moonlight was still so bright. She hadn’t had to put on the gas lamps and risk waking anyone.

  Daniel carried Anna’s inert figure to the bed and put her down. She wore English clothes, of course. Blue jeans and sneakers, with a knit shirt so short it showed a strip of bare skin.

  Leah pulled a coverlet over Anna. She’d have to get her changed, but that could wait until she’d gotten rid of Daniel. He’d seen enough of her family’s troubles for one night.

  She straightened, well aware that it was impossible to look dignified in her bare feet and nightgown, with her baby sister lying there drunk.

  “You’ve been most kind, Daniel. I’m grateful. I can take care of everything now.”

  And if he’d just go away home, she could stop wondering what he must think of them.

  Not that it was all that unusual for Amish boys to have a drink too much during their rumspringa, but folks were much less likely to turn a blind, indulgent eye when it was a girl.

  If Daniel was aware of her embarrassment, he gave no sign. “I’ll take care of the horse and the buggy for you. You’ll have your hands full enough here.”

  Was there no end to the things for which she would owe him gratitude?

  “It’s gut of you,” she said, clasping her hands together to still their trembling. “I don’t want to keep you away from the children any longer—”

  “My mamm is there, remember?” He turned away, giving her the ghost of a smile. “I’ll tend to things outside, and then I’ll come back to the daadi haus porch. Come down if you can, just to let me know everything is all right.”

  She managed to nod, managed to smile. But she didn’t think “all right” was going to describe anything about her life very soon.

  Anna didn’t wake as Leah pulled off her clothes, finding the task harder than she’d expected as she fumbled with the unaccustomed fastenings. Finally she got the jeans off and pulled one of Mamm’s nightgowns over Anna’s head.

  How they were going to explain Anna being in the daadi haus, she didn’t know, but that was a problem for later. Now she had to see Daniel again and send him off home.

  She bundled the English clothes into a pillowcase and stuffed it into the bottom of the chest of drawers. Then she hurried back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

  She peered through the glass of the door to the back porch. A tall form emerged from the darker shadows of the lilac bush.

  She opened the door and beckoned to him. “Come into the kitchen,” she whispered. They’d been wonderful lucky already, and she didn’t want to risk rousing the house when they were so near done.

  She was aware of him behind her, a tall, silent shape that sprang to life when she turned up the gas light in the kitchen, thankful that the windows faced away from the main house.

  She took her time turning toward him, not eager to hear his disapproval of Anna and her behavior. But when she looked up at him, she didn’t see anything but concern in his expression.

  “I don’t know how to tell you how much this means,” she began, but Daniel shook his head.

  “It makes no trouble,” he said, his voice low, as if the silence around them impelled him to be quiet even if no one could hear. “I cleaned up the buggy as best I could without drawing any attention to the stable.”

  “There was no damage?”

  “None that I could see. I don’t think anyone will notice that anything happened.” He fell silent, but he looked at her steadily, as if waiting.

  Waiting to hear what she would do. He was willing to let her handle it, it seemed, but he probably doubted her ability.

  Well, fair enough. She doubted it, too.

  “I talked to my daad about Anna.” She pulled the shawl tighter around her, needing its warmth. “I hated to burden him, but I couldn’t take the responsibility on myself any longer.”

  “You did the right thing, Leah.” His response was quick and comforting.

  Her fingers tightened on the soft fabric of the shawl. “Did I? I hoped it would make a difference—that Anna would change once Daad talked to her. And then she goes and does som
ething ferhoodled like this.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought to blink them back.

  Daniel took a step closer, his hand going out to encircle hers. His grip warmed and comforted her. “As much as you love your sister, you can’t take the responsibility of trying to be her mamm.”

  She resisted the impulse to lean on his strength. “There are so many years between us—by the time another girl baby came along, I was old enough to be the little mother to her. I guess I still feel that way.”

  “That’s only natural. And with your mamm’s sickness, you’ve tried your best to spare her from worry.”

  “Right now I don’t feel as if I’ve done a very gut job.”

  His fingers smoothed the skin on the back of her hand, as if he gentled one of the children with his touch. “You’ve done your best. Anna is old enough now to bear the consequences of her actions herself.”

  Leah looked up, very aware of how close he was. “Yet you were ready to help me cover for her.”

  “I was.” He looked a little surprised at his own actions. “There seemed no need to let your brother and sister-in-law in on it. Besides, I owe you.”

  “Owe me? If you’re talking about Elizabeth, I just encouraged her to talk.”

  He shook his head. “Elizabeth, but not only her. There’s Matthew, too.”

  “What about Matthew?” Much as she’d like to help Matthew adjust to his new life, she couldn’t see that she’d done much there.

  “Things came to a bit of a head with the boy.” He looked down at their clasped hands, but he seemed to be seeing something else. “I felt—well, I almost reacted the wrong way, but I thought about what you would do and say. That you’d say it was better to listen, no matter how hard it was to hear what my son had to say.”

  “And you did?” She had trouble concentrating on his words, too aware of the way his fingers traced circles on the back of her hand.

  “Ja.” His brows drew together. “It wasn’t easy to hear, for sure. Matthew—I guess he thought I didn’t care for the children enough to fight to get them back.”

  Her heart clenched with pain for him. “He must know you love them. Deep inside, I’m sure all three of them have no doubt about that.” Now it was her turn to want to comfort him.

  His fingers tightened on hers. “I hope so. If I should lose them again—”

  That was the fear in his heart, she realized. Deep down, what terrified him was the thought that once his children were old enough to choose, they’d leave.

  She clasped his hand in both of hers, hoping he could feel her caring. “It will be all right. They’re doing better all the time, really they are.”

  “Because of you.”

  Their fingers entangled, and Leah’s breath hitched at the sudden passion in his voice. “I haven’t done much.”

  “You’ve understood. And you’ve made me see how much they need a mother.”

  Her heart was thudding so loudly that she could hear it, beating in her ears. A step would close the distance between them. A word of encouragement, and Daniel would propose. She could almost hear the words, and panic flooded her.

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t let him take such an irrevocable step, not when she wasn’t ready to give him an answer.

  She took a cautious breath and then a deliberate step back. “The children are very dear to me.” She loosed her hands, and he let her go instantly. “But it is late now, and I should check on Anna.”

  “It is late. I must go.” But his gaze held hers for a long moment, and the unspoken question seemed to sizzle in the air between them.

  He hesitated a moment longer. Then he nodded and went quickly out.

  Leah glanced across the crowded kitchen at Rachel’s house. The group of women had been there since five this morning, making sandwiches for a hoagie sale to help with medical costs for Naomi Miller’s children.

  The volume of chatter continued unabated, as it had since before sunrise. White kapps fluttered like so many birds in flight around the long tables that had been set up in the farmhouse kitchen. In all that time, Anna had managed never to look at her.

  It had been that way for the entire uncomfortable week. Daad had been upset to hear what Leah had had to say, Anna had avoided speaking to her, and she had been haunted by the memory of what had nearly happened between her and Daniel.

  Mamm handed her a hoagie. She rolled it in wax paper and secured it with tape, then added it to the waiting cooler. She stole a glance at her mother’s face. It was as serene as ever, her eyes intent upon her task.

  At least Mamm didn’t know about any of it, so there was nothing to worry her. Daadi had decided that the situation with Anna was best handled by him. And she certainly hadn’t confided her thoughts about Daniel to anyone.

  “Anna has been very quiet today.”

  That jerked Leah’s gaze back to her mother. Was there a concern hidden in that comment? Or was it her own sense of guilt at keeping something from Mamm that made her feel so?

  “Is she?” She wrapped the next hoagie. “She’s been busy, I guess.” She managed a smile. “And she’s not at her best in the morning, is she?”

  Mamm shook her head, smiling a little. “Remember how hard it was to get her out of bed when she was little? That must be it.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I wish it was.

  Mamm sighed a little. “I’d like it fine if she’d just settle down to one sweetheart.” She lowered her voice under the chatter of women around them. “Do you think she likes Jonas Stoltzfus?”

  “I’m afraid she finds Jonas a little—well, too settled and serious for her.” Actually, Anna had said that Jonas was as dull as dishwater, which didn’t say much for Mamm’s matchmaking hopes.

  “Settled and serious are good things in a husband. Anna’s trouble is that she doesn’t think about what her life will be like a few years down the road, when she has a home and children to care for.”

  “Maybe in a year or two she’ll start looking at it that way.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s time already for her to think of something besides running with her friends.” Mamm used a table knife to stuff the sandwich filling into the roll a little more emphatically than was necessary. “A girl her age should be thinking of marriage.”

  It looked as if Mamm had been worrying about Anna despite all their efforts to shield her. “She might be waiting to fall in love first.”

  Anna’s words echoed in Leah’s mind. Anna already thought she might be in love with that English boy.

  “Falling in love is wonderful gut, but it’s not everything.” Mamm’s expression grew reminiscent. “Your father and I didn’t really understand what love was until we’d been married a few years and gone through some trials together.”

  “You and Daadi are special. Anna—well, Anna doesn’t think of marriage that way.”

  “And what about you, Leah?” Her mother’s gaze probed, seeming to peel away the layers of her protection. “A gut marriage can be made without starting out as boy-and-girl sweethearts.”

  She could feel her cheeks growing warm. How much did Mamm know, or guess, about Daniel and her? “I . . . I don’t . . .”

  “It’s all right.” Mamm pressed her hand. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, daughter. But think about it. Listen for God’s guidance.”

  “I will.” That she could promise, and it seemed to content her mother. She turned back to the sandwiches with a satisfied look.

  How could her mother know what had nearly happened between her and Daniel that night? She couldn’t, that was all. But Mamm seemed to have an extra sense where her daughters were concerned.

  It was fairly obvious what her mother thought she should do. She herself wasn’t so sure.

  She’d gone over and over every word, every gesture. Sometimes she’d almost convince herself that she was imagining things, but then she’d remember the warmth of Daniel’s gaze, the strength of his hands, and she’d be convinced again that she’d been right.
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  Daniel Glick would propose to her if she gave him the slightest encouragement. And she didn’t have the faintest idea what she should do.

  She’d decided, after Johnny left, that marriage wasn’t for her, and she’d been content with that decision all these years. She hadn’t been able to love Johnny enough to have the courage to leave or the strength to convince him to stay. How could she think she could love Daniel enough to be a mother to his children and a wife to him?

  “Here is Daniel, come for his order,” Mamm said. “You fix it for him, Leah. I’m ready for some coffee.” She flitted away.

  Mamm wasn’t exactly being subtle. Leah could only hope Daniel would attribute her flushed cheeks to the warmth of the kitchen.

  Daniel stepped aside to let the Klopp boys hurry past him with the boxes of orders for the men who worked at Bishop Mose’s harness shop. Nodding and smiling to those he passed, he came straight to her table.

  “Rachel said you’d fill my order.” His smile grew warmer when he looked at her.

  “Ja, I have it here.” She pulled his slip from the pile and began to stack hoagies in a paper bag, trying to find something light to say to him. “You’re surely not going to eat all these yourself.”

  He shook his head, leaning against the table so that he was close to her. “Some of the brothers have come to help with the first cutting of hay today. Mamm wanted to cook for them, but she has enough to do with the children. And they’ll enjoy the sandwiches fine.”

  Since he didn’t have a wife to make the lunch. Was that a reminder of his need? He was watching her with such warmth in the deep blue of his eyes that she lost count of how many sandwiches she’d put in the bag and had to start again.

  “They’ll like these,” she said, rallying. “And the money goes to a good cause.”

  He nodded. “It’s a joy to help.”

  “Ja.” It was, wasn’t it? That was woven deeply into their way of life, the joy and satisfaction that came from helping your brothers and sisters whenever they had need. And knowing that, in turn, if you needed, they would be there.