“Ya. No.” Lydia sighed and glanced out the side of the buggy. “What I mean is I didn’t eat much. I wasn’t very hungry.”
“Ya. Me either.”
Lydia studied him a moment, started to say something, but then she stopped herself.
“What is it?”
“Only that I’m wondering why you’d lie about a small thing like eating.”
“I wouldn’t lie—”
“Aaron Troyer, only an hour ago I saw you eating a giant piece of shoofly pie.”
Aaron settled back against the buggy seat. He’d rather have Lydia argue with him than have her silent.
He’d rather have her in the buggy with him than be alone.
The truth of that hit him deep in his heart and settled over him like the sight of a well-plowed field. He took a steadying breath and thought back over the afternoon.
“Ya. I forgot about the shoofly. But who can refuse a piece of your pie?” When Lydia only stared at him, he added, “And I barely ate any dinner at all. That’s what I meant when I said I didn’t eat much—didn’t eat much dinner. I couldn’t stomach it.”
“But you could stomach something that’s made from shortening, flour, sugar, and molasses?”
Switching the reins from his right hand to his left, Aaron ran his hand over his jaw. “I thought there was some nutmeg and cinnamon in there as well.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her pretty lips, and that made the ball of tension in his stomach unwind enough to allow him to relax for the first time in several days. Had it been Thursday when it seemed she’d been crying while cleaning cabin five? Why would that have caused her to cry?
“You were supposed to turn down that lane, Aaron.”
“Oh, ya.” Aaron checked the road behind him as he slowed the mare. “I know the way to your home. I thought maybe we had time to go by the cabins before I took you to your parents’.”
Smoothing her dress, Lydia stared down at it. He thought she would say no, and the knot in his stomach tightened again. When she glanced up, her golden brown eyes met his, and she nodded once.
He set the mare to a trot before she had a chance to change her mind.
The cabins looked like something from an Englisch storybook. Bathed in the light from the setting sun, they had a gentle appearance. The white fluffy bank of western clouds helped to paint the perfect scene.
What wasn’t to like, though? The hedges were neatly trimmed. The shutters and porches were freshly painted. Only last week they had both worked to lay gravel along the path leading from one cabin to the next.
Pumpkin was curled up on the office steps, winking at them as Aaron pulled the buggy to a stop.
Behind it all lay Pebble Creek.
It was a quieter stream than the one that had greeted him in early May, still moving past the cabins but not in as big of a hurry. Like Aaron, the river seemed content to take its time, to pause and enjoy the bend and the scene, the beauty of the alcove.
Things had changed here since he’d arrived, and he knew that he had Gabe, David, and Lydia to thank for that. Even Seth had proven to be a big help. He couldn’t have done it alone. Because of their work, Elizabeth and the girls would be able to stay in Pebble Creek. Their life here was secure. After spending nearly two months getting to know them and their community, he understood better than ever why that was important.
Gotte had plans for them here, and he hoped that maybe Gotte had plans for him here too.
The cabins and the stream weren’t all that had changed. He was different.
As he took Lydia’s hand in his and led her to the swing by the banks of the creek, he realized that he no longer resented being here. It was the thought of not being here that frightened him.
“Was iss letz?” He asked as they sat in the swing.
He thought she’d wave his question away, or deny that anything was wrong, but instead she stared down at their hands, drew in a deep breath, and haltingly began to speak.
“I’m not sure. Lately, instead of wondering what is wrong, I wonder what is right.”
Aaron reached out and touched her face. He didn’t stop to think if it was proper. Touching her felt so natural. “Look in front of us, Lydia. Look at the river. How can you wonder what is right? Everything is. It’s like the verses from the Psalms the preacher read today. ‘How majestic is your name in all the earth.’”
“Psalm eight. I remember.”
“I hear those words, read them, and in my mind I picture this spot. Gotte has blessed us.”
Lydia nodded, covered his hand with hers, and pulled it away from her cheek and into her lap. “I know what you’re saying. When I focus on nature, I do feel that everything is gut, but then my mind wanders, and everything turns upside down.”
Instead of interrupting her, he waited.
“The flooding was bad before you came, Aaron. We never talked about it, but every day I would come and the water would have swept more debris up to the steps. I would clean it away and pray that the river would go down.”
He glanced from the peaceful waters in front of him back to her.
“And it did go down, but it left behind more work than I knew how to deal with.” She brushed at a tear with her free hand. “You arrived just after…”
“I didn’t make a gut first impression.”
“You saw the work left behind from all that Ervin couldn’t do, from all the flooding had left. It was tremendous. If you hadn’t come, this—” She turned and looked back toward the cabins. “All of this would still look as it did after the flooding. Probably it would be closed by now.”
“I’m glad I came, but surely others would have helped you. The people in your district, they are kind.”
“Ya. I suppose you’re right. It’s only that I’d become so used to doing things alone…” Now the tears tracked down her cheeks and he reached out, had to reach out, and brush them away with his thumb. “I forgot how to ask. What if I forget again, after you leave?”
“First of all, these are not your cabins to work alone. They are also Elizabeth’s, and though she has a family to raise she will help with any decisions. Ervin should have included her in the decision making as I do now. Any questions you have, you go to her. Okay?”
Lydia nodded.
“Secondly,” he paused so she would raise her eyes to meet his, but she didn’t—wouldn’t—so he continued. “Who says I’m leaving?”
She turned to face him, finally, and he thought he could gaze into those brown eyes every morning. That would be a pleasure. It would be a blessing.
“You haven’t said you’re staying.”
He wanted to ask her that very minute, but he knew she had other questions. Their life together needed to begin on solid footing.
“I promise we’ll speak of that before darkness falls, but what other questions have been troubling you?”
“Why didn’t I notice the problems Mattie was struggling with?”
“I didn’t realize you two were gut freinden.”
“We weren’t, but I should have been there for her. If I had, maybe she wouldn’t be in the trouble she’s facing.”
Aaron stood and pulled Lydia to her feet. They walked along the path that ran beside the river. “You two have something in common—your stubborn nature. She wanted to handle it on her own.”
“Ya.”
“Perhaps she was determined to hide things from everyone, but now that it’s in the open you can be her freind. I heard Miriam is bringing her here tomorrow.”
Lydia nodded.
“You can’t be responsible for what you didn’t know, Lydia. It hurts, ya. Same as it hurts me that I didn’t realize my onkel needed our family’s help, but he chose not to share that with us.”
They walked around a bend in the path and startled a rabbit on the path. It blinked, nose twitching, before hopping into the brush.
“I was too quick to suspect others when the first burglary happened. Your friend Tim…I was sure in
my heart it was him.”
“Because he’s different?”
“I suppose. It’s hard for me to believe an Englischer would choose to live our way.”
“We can’t know what’s in someone else’s heart, Lydia.”
“Ya. You’re right.”
“I think you’d like Tim if you took the time to know him, and his wife, Jeanette. She’s trying to be a writer.”
Lydia nodded and cleared her throat. “The night of the second burglary, you guessed that Jerry was using drugs. How did you know that?”
Aaron laced his fingers with hers. He remembered now that he’d seen a look of alarm on her face that evening, but so much had happened so quickly that he couldn’t place what had startled her.
“There were boys in our district in Indiana who became involved with drugs. Several tried it only once—”
“While they were on their rumspringa?”
“Ya.”
“Did you?”
“I did not. I’ll be honest with you, Lydia. I did try alcohol, several times. This was four, no, five years ago when I was eighteen. The alcohol, it wasn’t so bad. It made me feel as if I were floating out there on the river. But the next morning, when I had to be out working in the fields, was terrible indeed.”
Lydia smiled as they turned in the path and headed back toward the parking area. “Like a stomachache?”
“Worse. I decided that anything capable of taking away my love for what I do…well, I wasn’t interested in it.”
“And the other boys, the ones who used the drugs?”
“Two tried them only the one time, but one…he had a real problem, like Jerry. He had to go to the rehab center in our area. It was hard for him and his family, but he was improving the last time I saw him.”
They walked past the office, and Lydia stopped to give Pumpkin a scratch behind the ears. The orange cat purred like the sound of the Englisch automobiles. Both Aaron and Lydia began to laugh until the cat stood, stretched, and stalked away.
Aaron wanted more than anything to lock that image in his memory, of her standing there in the last of the day’s light, bending over the orange cat, the cabins behind her, and in back of that the river moving past.
“Before I can tell you I’m staying, I have to go back to Indiana.”
Her head snapped up.
“I have to speak with my dat, and I want to do it in person. I’ve made arrangements to leave first thing in the morning.”
She nodded, her eyes impossibly round and full of trust.
Stepping forward, Aaron once again brushed his lips against hers—like he had the night of the burglary. And like that night, the kiss confirmed everything he already knew.
He was not going to disappoint Lydia.
He would find a way to make this right, but he had a few questions of his own, questions he didn’t have a clue how to answer. Life was incredibly complicated. That was one thing he’d learned in the last few months.
He’d take the bus home and speak with his dat. Then he would come back to Pebble Creek.
And when he did, he’d have a question for Lydia.
Chapter 41
Miriam glanced across the buggy at Mattie. The young girl had been through her preliminary hearing, but she was still awaiting her formal trial regarding the drug charges and the burglary. Aaron wanted to drop the burglary charges, but Officer Tate had explained things weren’t so simple with the Englisch legal system.
Jerry and Mattie were wanted in a string of burglaries. It seemed apparent that Jerry was the main culprit, but Mattie would have to testify against him. Up to this point she’d been unresponsive. The trial had been scheduled. Jerry was in jail, receiving medical care and going through withdrawals. Mattie was released to her family, pending the trial and possible future charges.
The family had asked Miriam to act as a counselor with the girl, actually with both girls. Clara also seemed to be having trouble coping with the events of that evening. Today was their first time to meet.
“I left Rachel with Ida, my brother Noah’s wife.” When Mattie only continued staring at her lap, Miriam pushed on. “Rachel has been teething, and she can set up a holler louder than schoolchildren at recess. Ida has seven of her own, so she’s gut with bopplin.”
Mattie never looked up, but she did trace the hem stitch on her apron with her index finger. “My mamm kept juice in ice trays in the icebox. We’d fetch one and rub it over my schweschder’s gums when she’d start to fussing.”
“Ya? Did it work?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’ll give that a try.”
That was the extent of their conversation. When the cabins came into sight, Mattie pulled back into the corner of the buggy as if she could become invisible there. Miriam wanted to reach out and comfort the girl, but she was afraid any touch might make her bolt into the woods.
Lydia stepped out onto the porch of the office before they’d even pulled to a stop, and Seth walked out of the barn to care for Belle.
“Should I unhitch her for you?”
“We’ll only be an hour or so.”
“I’ll put her in the shade and give her a few oats.”
“Danki.”
She did reach out her hand to steady Mattie at that moment. After they got out of the buggy, the girl stood frozen where they had parked. She showed no intentions of walking toward the office. Clara had joined Lydia on the steps. Because it was a Monday and nearly noon, all of the Sunday guests had left and no one new would be arriving until sometime the next day.
They were alone. They wouldn’t be interrupted.
Mattie stared at the office as if a dozen police officers might jump out and arrest her. She crossed her arms and ducked her head, staring at the ground.
“Lydia and Clara are the only ones here, Mattie.” Touching her softly on the arm, Miriam turned her attention toward the girls. “Seth is taking care of Belle. It will be just us girls.”
Mattie glanced up, though she still didn’t move a step forward.
“I made us a light lunch,” Lydia called out. “Some sandwiches.”
Mattie had begun to shake, and Miriam knew there would be no forcing the girl into the office. She looked out and over the grounds of the cabins. They had appeared so forlorn that first day when she and Gabe and Grace had first driven up with Aaron to see his onkel’s place. Now the property had the appearance of a well-tended park. Miriam remembered her days teaching, when the weather would grow warm and the students would become restless. Her cure had been for everyone to take their lunches outside to eat.
“How about we sit at a picnic table?” Miriam suggested.
Lydia shrugged.
“I’ll help you carry things. Clara, would you walk Mattie down to the table?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Miriam climbed the steps, patting Clara on the arm as she passed her.
Once in the office, she and Lydia watched out the window as Clara and Mattie made their way down the path. The girls walked with a good foot in between them, neither talking or even acknowledging the other was there.
“How’s Clara?”
“How’s Mattie?”
The questions were uttered nearly simultaneously. For the first time since picking up the young girl, Miriam felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease.
“Quiet,” Miriam said. “She’s very quiet. Barely utters a word, and when she does I have to lean forward to make out what she’s saying.”
“Clara’s not much better, and to think there was a day when I wanted her to stop talking.”
“These things take time. It was a shock for Mattie, who probably thought they would never be caught. No doubt she envisioned a better ending—the young usually do.”
“And what of Clara? I still don’t understand her connection. Certainly it was traumatic to be here, but…”
“Perhaps today we’ll find out.”
“Mattie looks as if she’s lost even more weight.” Lydia craned her neck to see better out th
e window. “I believe she could blow away if we have a big wind.”
“Your lunch looks gut, Lydia. Maybe we can convince her to eat. Maybe the fresh air will help her appetite.”
They gathered up the sandwiches, cups, and pitcher of tea.
“Did Aaron get to the bus station okay this morning?” Miriam asked.
“I suppose. He was gone when I arrived.”
“When will he be back?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Oh.” Miriam paused, wondering how best to proceed or if she should just drop the subject. Finally she asked, “Were you able to have a talk with him before he left?”
She tried not to smile when Lydia blushed all the way to her prayer kapp.
“Ya, we did. He answered a lot of my questions, but I still don’t understand why he has to go home or why he has to see his parents.” Lydia shook her head, frustration creasing her brow. “I miss him already, and he only just left.”
“Time apart is difficult.”
Lydia thought about that, and then she motioned toward Mattie and Clara. “Do you think these meetings will do any good?”
“I don’t know, but we’re called to support one another, and that’s what we’re going to do. It’s up to us to be the string that holds this package together. Those two look as if they’ve each lost their best freind.”
“Mattie has.”
“She’s going to have to find another, and I have a feeling the gal sitting beside her is a very good candidate.”
“Maybe that’s what Clara wants, but she doesn’t know how to say so. They certainly don’t look like freinden. We could put Seth and Aaron in between those two, they’re sitting so far apart on that bench…” Lydia’s words trailed off as they reached the picnic table.
They didn’t have long to wonder about what the girls were thinking. The meal had barely started when the shouting began.
Miriam had bitten into her sandwich, ham-and-Swiss on rye, when Clara threw out the first words. She’d moved across the table from Mattie when she’d stood to help Lydia with the food.
“It’s not my fault, so you can stop staring at me that way.”
“Did I say it was your fault, Clara Fisher?”
A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) Page 28
