When Dreams Come True

by Margaret Daley

  “Jessie took the bus and got a ride out from town.” Zeb sounded determined to fill up the silence with words, probably because he was afraid of what Caleb might say. “It’ll be wonderful nice for the kinder to get to know Cousin Jessie, ain’t so?”

  Caleb frowned at his uncle, unable to agree. He supposed, if he were being fair, that Alice’s family deserved some chance to get to know her children, but not now, not like this.

  Before he could speak, Zeb had seized the handles of the chair. “I’ll show you the room we fixed up for you so you could be on this floor. Becky, you and Timothy give Cousin Jessie a hand with setting the table for supper. Daadi must be hungry, and Onkel Daniel will be in soon.”

  Becky let go of Caleb reluctantly and went to the drawer for silverware. Timothy raced to get there first, yanking so hard the drawer would have fallen out if Jessie hadn’t grabbed it.

  “Ach, you’re a strong boy,” she said, a bit of laughter in the words. “Best let Becky hand you the things, ain’t so?” She smiled at Becky, but his daughter just set her lips together and proceeded with the job. Even at her young age, Becky had a mind of her own.

  Zeb pushed Caleb’s chair to the back room that had been intended as a sewing room for Alice. The hospital bed looked out of place, but Caleb knew it would be easier to get into and out of than a regular bed.

  Once they were inside, Caleb reached back to pull the door closed so no one could overhear. He swung to face his uncle.

  “What is she doing here?” he demanded.

  Onkel Zeb shrugged, spreading his hands wide. “She just showed up. Seems like word got to Ohio about your getting hurt, and Jessie said she thought she was needed.”

  “Well, she’s not.” Caleb clamped down on the words. “We’ll do fine without her, so she can just take tomorrow’s bus right back again.”

  “Ach, Caleb, you can’t do that.” His uncle’s lean, weathered face grew serious. “Stop and think. What would folks think if you turned your wife’s kin out of the house? What would the bishop and ministers say?”

  “I don’t want her here.” He spun the chair to stare, unseeing, out the window. “I don’t need any reminders of what Alice did.”

  “What Alice did, not Jessie,” Zeb reminded him. “It’s not Jessie’s fault. She wants only to help, maybe thinking she can make up a little for what her cousin did.”

  “She can’t.” He bit out the words. It was easy telling himself that he had to forgive Alice. It wasn’t easy to do it.

  “Even so, you’ll have to agree to let her stay for a short visit, at least.” His uncle pulled the chair back around to give Caleb the look that said he meant business. “I’ll not have you hurting the woman for someone else’s wrongdoing.”

  Onkel Zeb hadn’t often given orders to Caleb and his brothers, even though he’d shared the raising of them. But when he did, they listened.

  Caleb clenched his jaw, but he nodded. “All right. A short visit—that’s all. Then Jessie has to go.”

  * * *

  With Caleb out of the room, Jessie discovered that she could breathe again. She hadn’t realized how hard this would be.

  Caleb had changed over the years, just as she had. She’d first seen him on the day he’d met her cousin, and a lot of years had passed since then. His hair and beard were still the color of a russet apple, and his cheeks were ruddy despite his time in the hospital.

  But the blue eyes that had once been wide and enthusiastic seemed frosty now, and lines etched their way across his face. Lines of pain, probably, but maybe also of grief and bitterness. Who could wonder at that, after what Alice had put him through?

  Guilt grabbed her at the thought of the cousin who had been like her own little sister. She’d been meant to take care of Alice, but she’d failed.

  A clatter of plates brought her back to the present with a jolt, and she hurried to the kinder. “Let me give you a hand with those,” she said, reaching for the precarious stack Becky was balancing.

  “I can do it myself.” Becky jerked the plates away so quickly they almost slid onto the floor. She managed to get them to the round pine table and plopped them down with a clank. “I don’t need help.” She shot Jessie an unfriendly look.

  Had Becky picked up her father’s attitude already? Or maybe she saw herself as the mother of the little family now that Alice was gone. Either way, Jessie supposed she’d best take care what she said.

  “We can all use a bit of help now and then,” she said easily. “I’m not sure where there’s a bowl for the chicken pot pie. Can you help me with that?”

  Timothy ran to one of the lower cabinets and pulled the door open. “This one,” he announced, pointing to a big earthenware bowl. “That’s the one for chicken pot pie. Ain’t so, Becky?”

  He looked for approval to his big sister, and when she nodded, he gave Jessie an engaging grin. “See?”

  “I do see. That’s just right, Timothy. Do you like chicken pot pie?”

  Still smiling, he nodded vigorously. “And cherry pie, too.” He glanced toward the pie she’d left cooling on the counter.

  Jessie took the bowl, smiling in return at the irresistible little face. Timothy, at least, was friendly. Probably he wasn’t old enough to remember much about his mother, so her leaving and her death hadn’t affected him as much as Becky.

  She began ladling out the fragrant mix of chicken and homemade noodles. The men would doubtless be back and hungry before long. Even as she thought it, Jessie heard the door of Caleb’s room open and the murmur of voices.

  “Let’s get those hands washed for supper,” she told Timothy. “I hear Daadi coming.” She reached out to turn on the water in the sink, but Becky pushed her way between Jessie and her brother.

  “I’ll do it.” She frowned at Jessie. “He’s my little bruder.”

  Jessie opened her mouth, found herself with nothing to say and closed it again. Her mother’s voice trickled into her mind, and she saw again the worried look on her mother’s face.

  “I wish you wouldn’t go. You’ll be hurt.”

  Well, maybe so, but she couldn’t let that stop her from doing what was right. She had to atone for the wrongs Alice had done, and if she was hurt in the process, it was probably what she deserved. Given Becky’s attitude, she didn’t doubt that Alice’s daughter was hurting inside, too.

  The hustle of getting food on the table was a distraction when Caleb and his uncle returned to the kitchen. Zeb went to the back door and rang the bell on the porch. Almost before its clamor had stilled, Caleb’s brother Daniel came in, pausing to slap Caleb on the back.

  “So you’re home at last. I thought I would have to sneak you out of that hospital.”

  Caleb’s face relaxed into the easygoing smile Jessie remembered from his younger self. “You just want to have more help around here, that’s all.”

  “Can’t blame me for that. I’ve got the carpentry business to run, remember? I can’t spend all my time milking cows.”

  Daniel’s gaze landed on Jessie, and he gave her a slightly quizzical look. He’d already greeted her when she’d arrived, so he wasn’t surprised to find her there as Caleb had been. Maybe he was wondering how Caleb had taken her arrival. If so, she didn’t doubt he’d soon see the answer to that question.

  She’d have known Caleb and Daniel were brothers even if she’d never seen the two of them before. Their lean, rangy bodies and strong faces were quite similar, though Daniel’s hair was a bit darker and of course he didn’t have a beard, since he’d never married.

  That was strange enough to be remarked on in the Amish community. At twenty-eight, Daniel was expected to have started a family of his own. She’d heard from the talkative driver who brought her from the bus station that folks around here said the three King brothers had soured on women because of their mother’s desertion. If that were true, she couldn’t imagine Alice’s actions had helped any.

  There was another brother, too, the youngest. But Aaron’s name was rarely me
ntioned, so Alice had told her once. He’d jumped the fence to the Englisch world a few years ago and hadn’t been back since as far as she knew. Nothing about the King boys was typical of Amish males, it seemed.

  Jessie found herself seated between Zeb and Timothy, and she scanned the table to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Silly to be so nervous about the first meal she’d cooked in this house. It wasn’t like she was an inexperienced teenager.

  Caleb bowed his head for the silent prayer, and everyone followed suit. Jessie began to say the Lord’s Prayer, as she usually did, but found her heart yearning for other words.

  Please, Lord, let me do Your will here. Give me a chance to make a difference for Alice’s children.

  For a moment after the prayer, no one spoke. The dishes started to go around the table, and Jessie helped balance the heavy bowl while Timothy scooped up his chicken pot pie. Warmed by his grin, she passed the bowl on to Caleb. He took it with a short nod and turned away.

  Zeb cleared his throat. “It looks like you found everything you needed to make supper.” He passed the bowl of freshly made applesauce.

  “The pantry is well stocked, that’s certain sure. Lots of canned goods.” She couldn’t help the slight question in her tone, since Alice hadn’t been here to do the housewife’s job of preserving food last summer.

  Zeb nodded. “The neighbors have been generous in sharing what they put up. Some of the women even came over and had a canning frolic when the tomatoes and peppers were ready in the garden.”

  “That was wonderful kind of them.” The King family didn’t have any female relatives nearby, so naturally the church would pitch in to help. “And someone made this great dried corn. That’s a favorite with my little nieces and nephews.”

  Before anyone could respond, Becky cut in. “You don’t have to go back to the hospital anymore, right, Daadi? So we can get along like always.”

  Zeb’s face tightened a little, and he glanced at Caleb as if expecting him to correct Becky for rudeness. But if Caleb caught the look, he ignored it. “I’ll have to go for just a few hours each week. It’s what they call physical therapy, when they help me do exercises to get my leg working right again.”

  Becky’s lips drew down in a pout that reminded Jessie of her mother. “I thought you were done.”

  “The therapy will help your daadi get rid of that heavy cast and out of the chair,” Daniel said, flicking her cheek with his finger. “You wouldn’t want him to skip that, ain’t so?”

  Becky shrugged. “I guess not. But only for a little while, right?”

  It wasn’t surprising that Becky wanted reassurance that her father would be home to stay. She’d certainly had enough upheaval in her young life.

  “Don’t worry,” Caleb said. “We’ll soon be back to normal. I promise.”

  Jessie rose to refill the bowl with pot pie. Caleb glanced her way at the movement, and his intent look was like a harsh word. She knew what he meant by normal. He meant without her.

  * * *

  By the time the uncomfortable meal was over, Jessie was glad to have the kitchen to herself while she washed the dishes, though a little surprised that Becky didn’t insist on taking over that job, too. The little girl certainly seemed determined to convince everyone that Jessie was unnecessary.

  Jessie took her time over the cleaning up, half listening to the murmur of voices from the living room. It sounded as if Caleb was playing a board game with the young ones, and Daniel was helping Timothy keep up with his big sister. The play was punctuated now and then by laughter, and the sound warmed Jessie’s heart. Obviously everyone was as glad to have Caleb home as he was to be here.

  She was just hanging up the dish towels to dry when Daniel and the children came back in the kitchen and started putting on jackets. “Going someplace?” she asked.

  Daniel nodded. “These two like to tell the horses good-night. Timothy says it makes the horses sleep better.”

  “It does,” Timothy declared. “Honest.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Jessie said. “Do you take them a treat?”

  “Carrots,” he said, running to the bin in the pantry and coming back with a handful.

  “Share with Becky,” Daniel prompted, and Timothy handed her a few, obviously trying to keep the lion’s share.

  Jessie had to smile. “Your mammi used to do that when she was your age,” she said.

  Timothy looked at her with a question in his eyes, but Caleb spoke from the doorway.

  “Best get going. It’s almost time for bed.”

  “Komm, schnell. You heard Daadi.” Daniel shooed them out, and the door closed behind them.

  “Don’t talk about their mother to my children.” Caleb’s voice grated, and he turned the chair toward her with an abrupt shove from his strong hands that sent it surging across the wide floor boards.

  For a moment Jessie could do nothing but stare at him. “I only said that—”

  His face darkened. “I know what you said, but I don’t want her mentioned. I’m their father, and I will tell them what they need to know about her.”

  Her thoughts were bursting with objections, but Jessie kept herself from voicing them. “I didn’t mean any harm, Caleb. Isn’t it better that they hear people speak about Alice naturally?”

  The lines in his face deepened, and Jessie felt a pang of regret for the loss of the laughing, open person he’d once been.

  “I won’t discuss it. You’ll have to do as I see fit during your visit.”

  He’d managed to avoid speaking Alice’s name thus far, and that should have been a warning in itself. Arguing would do no good.

  “Whatever you say. I’m just here to help in any way I can.”

  Some of the tension seemed to drain out of Caleb, but not much. She suspected there was more to come, and suspected, too, that she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Since you’re here, you may as well visit with the kinder for a few days.” Instead of looking at her, he focused on the National Parks calendar tacked to the kitchen wall. “I’ll arrange for you to take the bus back to Ohio on Friday.”

  “Friday? You mean this Friday? Two days from now?” She hadn’t expected this to be easy, but she also hadn’t anticipated being turned away so quickly.

  Caleb gave a short nod, still not meeting her eyes. He swung the chair away from her as if to dismiss her.

  Without thinking, Jessie reached out to stop him, grabbing his arm. His muscles felt like ropes under her hand, and the heat of his skin seared through the cotton of his sleeve. She let go as if she’d touched a hot pan.

  “Please, Caleb. I came to help out while you’re laid up. Obviously you need a woman here, and your uncle mentioned that the person who had been helping couldn’t any longer. Please let me fill in.”

  A muscle twitched in Caleb’s jaw as if he fought to contain himself. “We’ll get along fine. We don’t need your help.”

  He sounded like Becky. And arguing with him would do about as much good as arguing with a six-year-old.

  Would it help or hurt if she showed him the letter Alice had written a few days before she died, asking Jessie to do what she could for the kinder? While she struggled for an answer, he swung away again and wheeled himself toward the door.

  “Friday,” he said over his shoulder. “You’ll be on Friday’s bus.”

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  When Dreams Come True

  Copyright © 2006 by Margaret Daley.

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