by Marta Perry
He hesitated for a moment. “You know, I remember another boy who had a pet most people would think was silly. He was just about your age at the time, too.”
“Who?”
“Your daadi.”
“He did?” Joseph breathed the words. “What was it?”
Rachel’s breath caught. Gideon had said he’d wait for her permission before talking to her children about Ezra as a boy. Now, it appeared he was about to do exactly that.
“A duckling.”
“A duckling?” Joseph blinked. “But that’s silly.”
“Maybe so, but that’s what it was.” Gideon seemed to be looking back through time, and his face softened into a smile that made him look younger. “The little thing hatched out when its mammi wasn’t there. I guess it thought your daadi was a gut substitute. It used to follow him around, quacking.”
“Did folks laugh at him?” There was a world of feeling in Joseph’s words.
“They did. But he never let that bother him, not one little bit. He figured they could think what they wanted to, but that little duck depended on him, and he wouldn’t let it down.”
Joseph seemed to mull that over for a moment, and then he gave a decided nod. “My daadi was right.” He stood a little straighter. “I want to be just like him.”
Tears choked Rachel’s throat and blurred her vision. Gideon had just given her son a gift that she’d been unable, or unwilling, to give. She stifled a sob.
CHAPTER NINE
A soft sound behind him had Gideon turning. Rachel stood there. She’d obviously been listening, and her blue eyes were bright with tears.
Regret pierced him. He shouldn’t have spoken to Joseph about his father. That was Rachel’s responsibility, and the one time he’d brought it up, she’d evaded the subject. She hadn’t wanted this, and now he’d done it anyway.
Still, even though it was wrong to talk to the boy without his mother’s permission, the idea itself wasn’t wrong. He’d be sorry to face Rachel’s anger about this, and sorrier still that he’d caused her more pain.
But he felt as sure of this as he’d been of anything in his life. All three children needed to have stories of their father to remember, but Joseph needed it most of all, because those stories would help him grow into a man like Ezra.
Rachel came toward them, not looking at him, all her attention on her son. “Here you are, Joseph. Have you seen all of Aaron’s goats already?”
“Ja, Mammi.” Joseph hurried to her, his face lit with excitement. “Aaron has a fine herd, but he doesn’t have any Nubians like Dolly. He said I could come another time with Gideon and learn how he makes the cheese, if you say it’s all right.”
If Rachel objected, she wasn’t letting it show on her face. Her smile for the boy was gentle. “We’ll talk about it,” she said. “But now I need you to run back to the table. Tell your sisters I’ll be there in a moment.”
She waited while the boy hustled across the yard, her face turned away from Gideon so that he saw only the curve of her cheek. He stiffened, preparing himself to bear the brunt of her anger, preparing to tell her—
The child out of earshot, Rachel turned toward him. A single tear glistened on her cheek, and the sight of it wiped away everything he’d thought he’d say to her.
“Don’t, Rachel.” He longed to smooth the tear away, but he didn’t dare. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind so much.”
She dashed the tear away herself with an impatient gesture. “No, I’m the one to be sorry. I didn’t understand.” She took a step toward the fence, grasping the rail with her hands and looking at the goats without, he thought, really seeing them.
He studied what he could see of her averted face. The line of her profile was as sweet and innocent as that of one of the children. She wasn’t angry, it seemed, but he couldn’t be sure just what she was feeling.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, figuring that, at least, was safe. “I should not have spoken with Joseph about his father before asking you if it was all right.”
She shook her head, still not looking at him. “I’m glad you didn’t wait.” She swallowed, the muscles of her neck working as if it took an effort. “Joseph came to you with a problem. I might wish he’d come to me instead, but maybe this was for the best. You gave him an answer that will help him much more than whatever I would have said.”
“If you truly feel that, then I’m glad, too.”
Rachel’s eyes glistened with the tears she didn’t want to shed. “You’re a gut man, Gideon Zook. My children and I are fortunate to have you as a friend.”
She was setting the boundary for him, and it was one he should be happy to accept.
He nodded. “Denke, Rachel. It is my pleasure.”
For a moment they stood there, hands close on the fence rail, looking at each other. If Lovina was watching, she probably thought her matchmaking efforts were bearing fruit. She couldn’t know how far from that they were.
He cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go to market again on Saturday?”
“Ja.” She frowned slightly, but then seemed to chase the expression away. “My parents are so happy to have the children for the day that it makes it easy for me to go.”
“Lovina will be pleased to have your company.” He would, as well. He knew without even thinking about it that he’d show up, because it would mean a little extra time with her. And he’d keep talking about it at the moment for the very same reason. “You have many plants ready to take?”
“Ja. I think I will take some of the marigold and snapdragon seedlings, even though it’s early for them. Some folks might want to risk putting them in.”
He forced himself to concentrate on her plans for the flowers instead of on the play of expressions that crossed her face. “Did William get the soil ready for the other things you want to put in your garden?”
“He did.” She stopped, but her troubled frown told him there was more to it. “He must have mentioned it to Isaac, because Isaac came to see me about it. Not that I would try to keep a secret from him, in any case.”
Judging by the look on her face, he thought she might be wishing that she could.
“What does Isaac have to do with your plans for planting?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, even though the question itself probably announced how he felt about Isaac’s actions in regard to his brother’s widow and children.
“Isaac is family, after all.” She sounded as if she were making excuses for him, which must mean that Isaac had not approved of her plans. “And he’s still hoping that I will decide to sell the farm to Caleb. He probably thinks that the more I become involved in the nursery business, the less chance there is that I’ll sell.” She shrugged. “And that’s true, of course.”
“As Ezra’s brother, he should be happy that you’re doing what Ezra would want.”
“He doesn’t see it that way. And I suppose he’s right when he says that we none of us really know what Ezra would advise.”
He bit back the impulse to say that he knew. That wasn’t helpful to Rachel right now, with her brother-in-law being difficult. And this was about Rachel’s needs, not about his own feelings.
“I know you want to keep peace in the family,” he said carefully, not sure how far he could go. “But I would hate to see you give up things that are important to you and the children because they might upset Isaac.”
“No, but—” Her hands twisted together, as if they were fighting with each other. “I depend on him, you see.”
“I know William does all the work with the dairy herd, but you’re paying for that, ain’t so?”
“It’s more than just that.” Her forehead furrowed. “Ezra was always going to work on the well. Maybe even put in a new one or pipe water from the spring. But there was always so much else to spend the money on, and ...”
“I’d forgotten. Ezra piped water down from Isaac’s place in dry weather.” Now he frowned, too. “Isaac wouldn’t deny you the water just because he wants you to
sell the farm to his boy.”
Her mouth tightened. “Maybe, if it came down to it, he wouldn’t. But he hinted at it pretty strongly.”
That was so wrong that Gideon wasn’t sure what to say. Not just wrong as a family member, but contrary to everything the church taught about supporting each other.
Words sprang to his lips, but he held them back. Better to be slow to speak and be sure that what he said made things better, not worse. “Maybe it would be gut to take this to Bishop Mose ...”
“No.” Something that might have been panic whitened her face. “Not that. I won’t be the one to make a breach in the family known to the whole church.”
“Bishop Mose could talk to Isaac. Make him see how wrong that would be. Other people don’t need to know about it.”
She shook her head. They both knew that if a dispute among the brethren could not be resolved by a private talk with the bishop, he would take it to the church.
“I won’t do that,” she repeated. “I’ll have to find another way. Maybe it will be a wet summer.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, mind busy with possible answers to the problem. “But maybe you need to think about something else.”
“Like what?” Her face flushed with exasperation. “I can’t afford to have another well dug.”
“No. But it could be that a windmill would give you the power to pump enough water from your existing well.”
For an instant, hope dawned in her face, but it faded just as quickly as it had come. “I can’t afford a windmill, either.”
“I’d be glad to build one—”
She cut him off with a quick gesture. “Building windmills is your livelihood. The greenhouse was one thing, a promise you made to Ezra. But a windmill is totally different. I couldn’t let you do that unless I could pay for it, same as anyone else would.”
Maybe she didn’t need to know what he would charge anyone else. “The cost wouldn’t be near as much as having a well drilled.”
“By the time I pay the taxes, I’ll have barely enough to keep us going until the next payment from the dairy comes in.” She shook her head. “No, Gideon. I know what you’re going to say, but there’s no point in discussing it. Unless I can pay for having a windmill put up, it’s out of the question.”
He nodded in seeming agreement. But he wasn’t done with the subject, not yet. Let her think about it for a time. Let her mull over how gut it would feel not to be dependent on Isaac’s generosity.
Obviously she didn’t want to depend on his generosity either. She wouldn’t let him build the windmill unless she could pay for it. So he’d have to find some way to make sure she could do just that.
“Mammi, please can we have some? Please?” Becky tugged on Rachel’s arm, pointing to the popcorn stand at the firemen’s carnival.
The mingled aromas of popcorn, cotton candy, sausage sandwiches, pizza, and who-knew-what other treats were beginning to be overwhelming. “Becky, we have popcorn at home. Why—”
“Ach, let the little ones have popcorn if they want.” Her father was already reaching for his wallet. “The carnival is a special event, ain’t so?”
Rachel shook her head, smiling in surrender. “It’ll be even more special if they end up with tummy aches from all the junk food they’re eating.”
But Daadi had already stepped up to the stand, Becky and Joseph on either side of him, ready to supervise the purchase. Mary clung to Rachel’s hand, and already she drooped a little from all the excitement. Rachel exchanged looks with her mother.
“Let him do it,” her mother said. “They won’t suffer from having a few extra treats, and it gives your daadi pleasure to do things for his grandchildren.”
“You do so much for us already.” Rachel pressed her mother’s hand. “You know how grateful I am.”
Her mother dismissed it with a quick shake of her head. “It’s nothing.” She touched Mary’s hair gently. “We’ll be able to do more once you move back home with us. Daad and I were just talking about it last night. He’s thinking he’ll add on another room to give everyone a bit more space with growing children in the house.”
“Mamm—” The sinking feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with eating junk food. “You know I don’t want to give up the farm.”
“Chust think about it already. Think about how much easier it will be on everyone.”
There didn’t seem to be any doubt in her mother’s mind that sooner or later Rachel would be moving in. That made it all the more difficult to bring up the subject she’d been circling around since her parents had picked them up for this outing.
Should she ask them for the money to build the windmill? And if she did, what would they say?
She’d had a successful day at market on Saturday, even better than the first time, building her confidence that she could actually do it. But whether her parents would agree—whether they’d even consider it when they were so firm in their notion that she and the children move in with them—well, that was another thing entirely.
The popcorn bought, they started moving along the row of stands, the children’s gazes darting from one unfamiliar sight to another. Rachel let Becky and Joseph go ahead with their grossdaadi while she and her mother lagged behind, suiting their steps to Mary’s.
Mary’s small bag of popcorn tipped, spilling onto the sawdust pathway. Rachel grabbed it before it could all go.
Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “I know what you are thinking chust now, my Rachel.”
“You do?” Whatever Mamm imagined, it certainly wouldn’t be that her daughter’s mind was caught up in the subject of windmills. That even her dreams had been filled lately with their paddles spinning against a clear blue sky.
“You are thinking that your daadi didn’t spoil you and Johnny the way he wants to spoil your young ones.”
It took an effort to conceal her surprise at her mother’s bringing up Johnny’s name. “That’s certain sure. Though Johnny did a pretty gut job of wheedling.”
“Ach, that was his way. That boy could charm the birds out of the trees when he wanted to.” Mamm glanced down at Mary, who was staring openmouthed at a clown on stilts. “We know that you see him, Rachel.” Her voice grew soft on the words. “Even if your daad will never willingly mention it.”
She’d been reluctant to bring it up, telling herself she didn’t want to cause more pain. Maybe she’d just been a coward. “Does that upset you, my seeing him?”
“No, no. Don’t think that. I’m glad that he has you. I chust wish ...”
She let that trail off, but Rachel could figure out the rest of it. Mamm would never go against what Daad said, but she longed to see Johnny for herself.
Rachel squeezed her mother’s hand. “I know. I wish it, too.”
“Look, Mammi. It’s Elizabeth.” Becky darted away from her grandfather to greet her friend, while the rest of them followed a little more slowly.
“Daniel, it’s gut to see all of you.” Rachel smiled at Daniel Glick and the three young ones. “Leah is home resting, I hope?”
“Ja.” Daniel grinned. “And complaining all the time about it, too. I had to promise to bring her a caramel apple when we return.”
“That was always her favorite treat, even when we were your size.” She tapped the brim of young Jonah’s straw hat, and the seven-year-old gave her a gap-toothed grin.
“We appreciated the food you brought on Thursday,” Daniel said. “That was kind of you. Cheered Leah up, it did.”
Rachel nodded, hoping he was right. She saw Leah just as often as ever, of course, maybe more often, as she tried to help at this difficult time. On the surface, things were the same between them, but the truth was that she’d felt a constraint since the day she’d told Leah her plans and come away shaken by her lack of support.
“Can Elizabeth walk around with us, Mammi?” Becky held hands with her friend.
Rachel glanced at Daniel, but he shook his head. “Not this time. We’re going to pick out desserts fo
r everyone and then be on our way home.”
“Ja, we’ll be going soon as well. I have one almost asleep on her feet already.” She patted Mary’s shoulder as she smiled at Elizabeth. “Maybe you can come to spend the afternoon sometime soon, ja? We’d like that.”
Becky and Elizabeth brightened immediately, the hint of a pout vanishing from Becky’s face. “Soon, Mammi?” She obviously wanted to nail it down.
“As soon as Elizabeth’s daadi and mammi say it’s a gut day” She glanced at Daniel. “Just let me know. Anytime. And give our love to Leah.”
He nodded. “We will.” He raised his hand in farewell and shepherded his children away
“Leah is doing all right?” Mamm asked as they moved on.
“The midwife is happy with her progress, she says. But Leah frets at having to be off her feet so much, wanting to tend to the family herself.”
“Well, she’d best listen. It’s no easy thing to have a first boppli at her age.”
“She’s just as old as I am,” Rachel protested.
“But you’ve already had three. That makes it easier. If you were to marry again ...” Her mother darted a look at her, as if waiting for a reaction.
Rachel did her best to keep her face from expressing anything at all. If she were to marry again. Everyone seemed to have ideas about that. Everyone but her.
“Rachel?” Her mother’s voice was questioning.
“We’ll have to wait and see what the future holds,” she said. Mary stumbled, and Rachel bent and lifted her into her arms. “And right now, I think the future must hold bedtime for this little girl.”
“Ja, you’re right about that. I’ll tell your daadi that we’re ready to go.”
Mamm moved forward briskly to intercept Daad and the children, who’d gotten a few yards ahead of them while they’d talked. Rachel stood where she was, Mary heavy in her arms, and suddenly found her breath catching in her throat.
Johnny. Johnny came toward them, walking with an English woman, carrying a paper plate of funnel cakes in his hand. His head was bent toward the woman as she talked, and he didn’t see them until he was almost upon them.
