by Ruth Reid
“Please, just tell me. Was I intentionally left out of the gathering?”
Deborah nodded. “I’m sorry. I had nothing to do with it.”
“I know.” Judith looked over her shoulder into the sitting room window. Deborah’s mother was staring at them. “You better go inside. I don’t want your mamm saying anything and upsetting mine.”
“Kumm mitt mich.”
Judith shook her head. “Nett nau.” She needed a few moments alone. She had placed more hope than she realized on Samuel walking. Now what did she have left? If faith was the substance of things hoped for, she certainly lacked faith.
Chapter Fifteen
Andrew edged into the crowd, neck stretched to spot Judith.
“Andrew,” Samuel called.
He turned and, seeing the boy’s outstretched arms, made his way back through the sitting room. He took hold of Samuel’s hand and squatted next to the couch. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Will you still teach me how to build furniture?”
Andrew’s throat tightened. Samuel had remembered his promise. A day hadn’t passed that Andrew didn’t remember he’d given Samuel the nail. If he hadn’t given the nail to the boy, Samuel wouldn’t have climbed to the roof. Wouldn’t have fallen. Until Andrew ignited Samuel’s interest in building, the boy had been content with playing games and listening to Judith’s stories.
“Even if my legs don’t work, I can still build, right?”
Andrew marveled at Samuel’s cheerful disposition in spite of his bedridden condition. He’d do anything to keep the smile on Samuel’s face, even if it meant limiting the time he spent in his workshop on his tasks. “When you’re feeling up to it, I will.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Meiya?”
Andrew glanced at Mrs. Fischer standing at the end of the couch. He didn’t want to make any promises without her approval. Once she nodded, Andrew patted Samuel’s hand. “Sure, I’ll bring the tools,” he said and stood. He headed toward the door before the tears welling up in his eyes spilled over.
Judith’s cape was missing from the hook. No doubt she had slipped out of the house in avoidance of the icy condemnation she feared would be cast in her direction.
Andrew stepped outside and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath and blew it out with a steady exhale. When he didn’t find Judith on the porch, he suspected she’d gone to the river. He leaped down the steps and headed in that direction. But rather than take a chance that she would force him to turn back, he took another route, a shortcut through the woods.
He found the rock she’d dropped next to the tree they had stood under. With better light, he could see it was freckled with multiple colors. No wonder she admired it so much. He sat with his back against the tree and tossed the rock into the air. Catching it, he looked it over again before tossing it back up.
Several more minutes passed without any sign of Judith. He stood to leave, but a faint sound of dried leaves crunching underfoot caused him to stay put. Judith walked into the clearing with her head down. She sat on the boulder facing the river, oblivious to his presence. Andrew took a step, then paused.
Lord, I ask that You give me the words to comfort her.
He took another step, then hesitated again. She was upset the last time he interrupted her at the river.
“Turn me around, God, if this isn’t the time,” Andrew whispered as he inched toward her. Then he spoke aloud. “Judith.”
She turned to face him and clutched her chest.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Why are you always following me?”
Her curt words were not going to push him away. “I knew you were coming to the river, and I didn’t want you to be alone.” He surprised himself with such a direct answer.
Her teeth clenched. “But that’s why I came here, Andrew. I want to be alone.” She crossed her arms and turned her attention to the river.
Lord, help me, please. Andrew moved in front of her to block her view. “Why did you think Samuel would walk through the door?”
She looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Andrew, you’re in my way.” She stared at him hard, then the scowling expression disappeared and her lips trembled. She whirled in the opposite direction, facing the woods.
“Judith.” He waited, but she didn’t respond. She needed a friend’s support, but holding her wouldn’t be the answer, he told himself. He fought back the urge to comfort her in his arms. “I watched your face turn pale when Samuel was carried inside. You looked shocked. Why?”
“Andrew, go away.” She tried to turn away, but he held her shoulders in a firm but gentle grasp.
“Please, tell me what gave you that hope.”
If an angel had told her Samuel would walk, he wanted Judith to share what was said. She was there when he gave Samuel the nail. Surely she must understand how important it was to him that Samuel walk again.
“I shouldn’t have spoken out loud,” Judith whispered. She lifted her head and used her sleeve to dry her tear-streaked face. “Will you please go? I came here to be alone and pray.”
“I’ll pray with you,” he offered.
It didn’t surprise him that she shook her head. He waited a moment, then, knowing he was standing in her way of calling out for God’s help, he stepped aside. She needed God’s unsurpassable peace. He only wished she needed his friendship too.
Andrew went as far as the edge of the woods and stopped to look back at her. She hadn’t moved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rock he’d found by the tree. Should he go back and give it to her now, or wait? He took a step toward her.
“Tobias said Samuel’s steps are ordered by You. So why isn’t Samuel walking? I don’t understand.” She lifted a tissue to her nose and blew. “Nau I won’t be approved for baptism or joining the church.”
Andrew strained to listen. Who was Tobias? There wasn’t anyone with that name in the community.
Her face lifted toward the sky. “I believe You sent an angel. But if Samuel isn’t going to walk, why did Tobias come?”
Tobias is God’s angel.
Andrew dropped to his knees. He lowered his face to the ground, inhaling deep breaths of decayed leaf scent. Only God knew of his struggle to determine if the angel was real or something developed in Judith’s mind. He believed her simply because she’d never been one to draw attention to herself or speak against authority, yet she did so with conviction about the angel.
“Forgive me,” Andrew whispered. “Forgive the others, too, for their disbelief. And, God, thank You that Samuel will walk again. If You sent an angel to say he would, I believe he will.”
Judith started to sing a hymn, and Andrew rose off his knees. He’d always found her voice sweet. Today her praise was purely heaven bound. She wasn’t singing to fulfill part of a church service, she was singing to God. Restored with joyfulness, her voice grew stronger.
“Thank You, mighty God, for taking her burdens away.” He felt the urge to sing as well, but instead he hummed the tune.
Judith stopped singing and spun in a tight circle. “Tobias, is that you?”
He must have hummed louder than he thought. Andrew stepped out from the woods. “It was me.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “You! What are you still doing here?”
Andrew blew out a breath. He’d set her off again. “I, um . . . I wasn’t spying on you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Jah, you were.”
He came closer. “I heard you praying.”
“Eavesdropping? What is that if it’s not spying? Is there a difference?”
He shrugged. “I guess not.” He looked toward the river and drew a deep breath, then faced her once more. “I heard you mention the name Tobias and . . . and I was curious.”
She raised her chin. “About what?”
“There isn’t anyone in our community with that name.”
Her stare made him wish he’d kept quiet. Only minutes ago she was happy. He shoul
d have gone back to the house.
“And you thought he was an Englischer too?” She stepped closer. “You thought I’d gone running with an Englisch man.”
She shrugged. “I’m nineteen nau, maybe I should go on my own rumschpringe. I can do that, you know.”
“Stop it.”
She straightened her shoulders. “What did you say?”
Andrew came within inches of her face. “I told you, I heard you praying. Don’t tell me any foolishness about an Englisch man. I know who Tobias is. He’s an angel.”
Judith bit her lip and stepped backward. “Andrew, I don’t—”
“The day Samuel fell, I saw you run across the pasture. You went into the apple orchard, and when you came out, you were frightened. Why?”
Judith turned her back to Andrew.
“You followed him, didn’t you? What did he tell you?”
“Why is what I say so important to you?”
He swallowed his shame. She might think him cowardly for not speaking up sooner, but he had to confess for his own peace of mind. “Because I gave Samuel the nail.”
Judith turned, and her expression softened. “Andrew, Samuel fell because of lack of supervision. Not because you handed him a nail.” She sighed. “He’s held a nail before.”
She was being stubborn, trying to shoulder all the responsibility. “I’m your friend. Tell me what the angel said.”
Judith lowered her gaze. “You don’t know what you’re asking. If you say you believe me, the community will come against you too.”
He tilted her chin up so that he could see her eyes. “I’m willing to accept that.”
“You don’t know what that means.”
He did know what it meant to go against his father and her brother, and he would do it again. “It means I believe God over man.”
She sighed. “Andrew, why didn’t you go with Levi during rumschpringe?”
Andrew shook his head. What did this have to do with the topic? “I didn’t need a period of running around to know that I wanted to serve God. Rumschpringe is for those still searching.” He studied her empty stare. “You’re nineteen nau, is that what you want to do?”
“I asked because I knew what you’d say.”
His questioning brows must have relayed that she wasn’t making sense.
“You’ve been baptized. You can’t stand up for me.” Her voice cracked. “You’ll be shunned.”
He wanted to protect her, and here she was protecting him. “I would not go against God.”
“The church. Your father.”
“He is not God,” Andrew rebuked. Although he liked the thought that she cared enough to want to protect him, she had to know that only God would determine his fate.
She stood mute, her focus fixed on him, then she released a pent-up breath. “Tobias knelt next to Samuel when he fell off the roof. And you’re right, I did follow him into the apple orchard, but he disappeared into the fog.” She stopped.
Andrew wasn’t sure if she paused to gather courage or if she’d changed her mind about telling him the rest.
“Go on.”
“Tobias knew Samuel’s name and said his steps were ordered by God. He told me to have faith.” She looked up and searched his eyes. “What do you think?”
He brushed his hands over her wet cheeks. “I believe Samuel will walk.”
She sighed and then cracked a weary smile. “Are you just saying that?”
Andrew slowly shook his head. He believed every word. “Angels speak what God commands them to say.”
She released her guarded breath, and he smiled. He’d gained her trust.
“We have to do what he said and have faith.” He was standing with her. Even if it meant he’d be shunned.
Chapter Sixteen
Andrew penciled the measurement on a piece of white ash, then readied the handsaw over the marking. When he arrived to teach Samuel, he wanted to have all the cuts made. He would work with the little boy on hammering the pieces together and sanding the finished project.
Andrew finished the last cut and swept the sawdust off the floor. Then he hurried through his morning chores with his thoughts concentrated on Judith. Was it possible that his feelings for her were more than friendship? The idea of loving again frightened him—enough to make him spend most of the night on his knees.
Andrew entered the house to eat breakfast before heading over to the Fischers’ place. His mother was at the stove, his father seated at the table reading the Bible. Andrew sat across from his father, but kept his morning greeting to himself so he didn’t disturb his father’s devotions.
Zechariah looked at him over the rim of his reading glasses. “You don’t plan to go to the Fischers’ today, do you?”
“Jah.”
His mother set a cup of black coffee in front of him.
“Denki.” He picked up the cup and blew into the hot liquid.
“Samuel is home. Jonas said he doesn’t need your help.”
“Jah, but I promised Samuel I would build with him today.”
“That is thoughtful.” His mother set a plate of eggs, fried potatoes, ham, and a buttered biscuit before him.
His father’s eyes flickered with annoyance, and Andrew thought it best not to prompt him in any way to speak his mind. Something told him that what his father would say would jeopardize his new feelings for Judith. Instead, Andrew bowed his head and said a quiet grace over the food and asked for wisdom.
He hadn’t loaded his first forkful of food before his father asked, “Where did you go last night?”
Andrew swallowed.
Mamm took a place at the table. “Zechariah, let the boy be.”
His father’s eyes hardened on his wife. “He is a baptized member of the church. I am speaking as the bishop.” Once Mamm’s head dropped in submission, his father turned back to Andrew. “Answer my question. You disappeared from the Fischers’ haus. Where did you go?”
“I saw that Judith was upset . . . I went to talk with her.”
“I don’t wish for you to carry on with her.”
His mother leaned closer to his father, and even though she kept her voice low, her interjection was clear. “Ask him, Zechariah, to give more light on the subject.”
Over the years, his mother had taken his side on a few occasions, but never at the table. And never in front of him. She shared her views with his father in a private conversation behind closed doors.
His father eyed Andrew carefully.
“We only talked.” Andrew sounded defensive, and for good reason. He didn’t want any more problems to fall on Judith.
His father slowly shook his head. “I’m not so sure visiting with Samuel is a gut idea.”
“I gave him the nail,” Andrew said softly.
“What is this about a nail?”
“The day Samuel fell. I promised I would build with him. I gave him the nail. He wouldn’t have gone up that ladder if I had not mentioned building . . . and if I had remembered to take the ladder down.”
His father sighed. “Very well, build with the boy. But keep your distance from Judith.” He stood and took a few steps toward the sitting room before pausing. “If you disobey, other arrangements will be considered.”
Andrew lowered his head and stared at the yellow yolk that had spread into the mound of potatoes. He pushed the plate aside.
Mamm stood, ruffled his hair, then joined his father in the sitting room. He strained to hear their conversation.
“Work in unity with our son, that’s all I ask. Andrew’s spent three years grieving Esther.”
“My son will conduct himself according to the tenets of the Ordnung.”
“He isn’t seeking an outsider. Judith is—”
“I am speaking as your bishop.”
The room silenced.
Mamm appeared in the doorway, gazed a moment at Andrew, then continued down the hallway.
Chapter Seventeen
Judith eased Samuel’s bedroom door open
and peeked inside. Martha sat next to Samuel’s bed, partly weeping and partly singing. Judith didn’t recognize the tune.
She placed Samuel’s breakfast tray on the dresser and tiptoed closer. Her sister saw her and quieted.
“Keep singing.” Judith motioned to Samuel smiling in his sleep. “Your voice comforts him.”
Martha put her hand over her mouth, but her teary eyes exposed her heartache.
Judith placed her hand over her sister’s shoulder. “He’s going to be all right.”
“Nay, he’s nett,” Martha blurted and rushed to the door.
Judith looked up at the ceiling. Samuel had to get better. He had to walk again.
Even Andrew feels guilty. Somehow he’s taken responsibility for my error. I don’t wish for anyone to carry the burden, especially not Andrew. God, please have mercy on him and ease his conscience.
Samuel’s small chest rose and fell under the bedcovers as he slept.
“I know with all my heart that he wouldn’t have survived that fall without You, God . . . I know You sent an angel for him.” Her prayer shifted to Andrew. “Please don’t let my speaking out harm Andrew in his father’s eyes. Without the support of family and community, how could a person survive?”
Judith collected Samuel’s uneaten breakfast and headed back to the kitchen, where her mother was rolling piecrust over the floured table.
“I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”
“He’s so weak. I hope the visitors yesterday didn’t wear him out.” Mamm repositioned the rolling pin and with long, rhythmic strokes smoothed the dough.
Judith glanced at Rebecca, who was perched on a chair, chin resting on the table, waiting for a sample of Mamm’s dough. Judith came up behind her mother, reached around her waist, and pinched off a portion of piecrust.
Her sister giggled while her mother wagged the rolling pin at them both. “I won’t have enough to cover my pie for the harvest supper if you two keep snitching dough.”
Judith sobered. Every year she looked forward to the harvest supper, a time when everyone came together for fellowship before the long winter months shackled them indoors next to the woodstove. Because of Samuel’s accident, the supper had been moved to later in the month, and this year’s gathering would be in their barn after the Sunday service.
