by Amy Clipston
So do you, mann. She raised her hand, waved, and disappeared into the foggy, windswept mountains.
Godspeed, my sweet, sweet fraa.
Raindrops blurred his vision. Cold seeped through his damp shirt. Was Tommy out here soaked to the bone, lost and wandering toward the mountains?
Tommy had been uprooted once already. He needed to be able to trust someone. He needed to trust Henry. He kept testing boundaries in order to find out if Henry would cast him aside at the slightest inconvenience.
“Tommy’s father left him to me. He’s my charge.”
“He might be better off with a family that has a daed and a mudder. Josiah probably thought you would be married by now.”
The words were sharper than a finely honed ax. Noah couldn’t know how they pierced Henry’s heart. “Josiah raised Tommy without a fraa until he died. He knew what he was doing. He chose me. I’m honoring his wish.”
“Even if it’s not what’s best for the child?”
“I choose to believe it is for the best.”
Noah’s grunt was neither assent nor dissent.
They rode in silence until Henry made the last turn and guided the buggy up the muddy, puddle-filled road to his cabin. He pulled into the yard and stopped.
“If he’s disruptive during the service again, we’ll have to meet with the both of you to discuss punishment.”
“Understood.”
“He’s far too old to act like this. Spare the rod and spoil the child.”
“I know.” Should he tell Noah about the greater concern? Not yet. Henry would pray. He would work with Leesa. Together they would find a way to reach this hurting child. “I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”
He wasn’t. Dodger whined to be let out. No other sound echoed in the tiny two-bedroom abode that still smelled of the bacon and eggs he’d made for breakfast. Probably because the plates of uneaten food still sat on the table. A string of muddy tracks led to Tommy’s bedroom. Henry studied the room. The bed was neatly made. A first. The hooks on the wall were empty. Tommy’s clothes were gone. His backpack was gone.
Tommy was gone.
Henry left the door ajar for Dodger and retrieved his rain slicker and a large umbrella. Together they left the cabin and he pulled the door shut. Where are you, Tommy?
Dodger hopped in the back of the buggy. Henry handed the umbrella to Noah. “He’s gone.”
“He ran away?”
“It appears so.”
His expression perplexed, Noah leaned back. “Maybe you should tell me what happened after the stunt he pulled this morning.”
Henry obliged on the fifteen-minute drive to Noah’s house. The bishop said little, other than promising to spread the word about Henry’s missing charge. They would go out in twos and threes, covering the small community from one end to the other. If necessary, they would form a search party to comb the nearby forest.
“Surely he won’t try to walk out of here.”
Walk the eighteen miles to Rexford, including the longest-span bridge in the state? “Surely not.”
“I plan to talk to the Planks about taking him.” Noah’s stern tone left no room for argument. “They handled difficulties with their Jonathan well.”
“It’ll only make it harder for Tommy.” Henry argued anyway. “He knows me. He needs stability.”
“He needs parents who know better than to give him an option to skip church when that’s exactly what he wanted.” Noah didn’t bother to soften his criticism. “A bad apple can’t be allowed to spoil the whole barrel. Whether at schul or at church.”
“He’s not a bad apple.”
“He will be if he’s not reined in—now. And sharply.”
The bishop’s logic was infallible. “Let’s find him first.”
“I’ll pray.”
“Me too.”
9
The one person who knew Tommy better than anyone else was his teacher. Henry left Noah’s and headed back to the Yoders’ house. The skies opened and rain came down in sheets, making it hard for him to see a few feet ahead of the buggy. Lightning tortured the sky, followed by thunder that shook Henry to the core. Tiny hail pinged against the buggy’s roof and pelted his face. He had no fear of weather, but neither was he foolhardy. His poor horse didn’t deserve this. “We’re almost there,” he yelled. “Hang in there.”
A white lie.
“Tommy. Tommy!” He couldn’t help himself. Even knowing the futility of calling the boy’s name didn’t stop Henry. What if Tommy decided to hike into the woods and hide from Henry’s ire? What if he fell? What if he was hurt?
Gott, help me.
A drive that normally took fifteen minutes turned into thirty. Finally, he reached the Yoder property. He held his slicker-clad arm over his head as if it would protect from the hailstorm and raced to the door. Mercy opened it.
“Henry? What’s the matter?”
“Where’s Leesa?”
Mercy waved him in and offered a towel while she went to get Leesa from the kitchen. Both sisters returned immediately. “It’s Tommy, isn’t it?”
“He wasn’t at the cabin.”
“Where would he go?”
“I hope he knows he can come to me, but he hasn’t.” Leesa chewed her lower lip. “He has no friends here. We need to find him. When that front comes in tonight, the temperatures are supposed to drop, maybe even to freezing.”
“Noah is rounding up the men to start a search party.” Henry wiped his face, head, and neck with the towel. Water dripped and pooled at his feet. He was making a mess. In more ways than one. “I can retrace my steps from here, but not in this rain. It’ll have washed away any tracks.”
He handed the towel to Leesa. Heedless of how wet it was, she clutched it to her chest. “I want to go with you.”
“Nee. It’s dangerous out there. The lightning is fierce.”
“We’ll go.” Leesa’s father, her oldest brother, Abraham, and Caleb crowded into the room. “We’ll round up the other boys and head out as soon as the rain lets up.”
“Much appreciated.”
“You’re soaked to the bone. At least let me put some kaffi in a thermos for you.” Leesa whirled and rushed toward the kitchen without giving him a chance to respond. “Don’t let him go, Mercy, until I come back.”
The men tromped up the stairs to the second floor, already talking about what needed to be done.
That left Henry with Mercy. She smiled. “I know this isn’t the time to mention it, but your name has come up in conversation a few times recently.”
Warmth flooded Henry despite his best attempt at a neutral expression. “Has it?”
“Christine and Nora think it’s a gut idea. So do their manns.”
So the whole world had been talking about him and Leesa. He expected as much from the women, but his male friends? It seemed everyone had talked about it except him and Leesa. Not so much as a buggy ride to date. “They must not have enough work to do if they’re talking about me.”
“We’re your friends.” She uttered the words with a diffident smile. “Caleb and I want the same happiness for Leesa that we have in each other.”
Now that she was a married woman and a mother-to-be, she could say such things to a single man like himself.
Leesa sailed back into the room. She handed the thermos to Henry and grabbed her coat from the hook by the door.
“You’re not going.”
“I’ll saddle a horse if need be.”
In that case she would be safer with him. What would her father and mother think of her hopping in a buggy with him? If the smile on Mercy’s face was any indication, they would be happy—as long as he brought her home safely. “I have enough to worry about with Tommy—”
“Gut. You needn’t worry about me.”
She shoved through the door ahead of him. He glanced back at Mercy. She shrugged and made shooing motions. “Better keep up with her.”
If anything, the rain came down harder. The drops
pelted his hat and face. Leesa hunched over against the wind. He grabbed her arm to help her into the buggy.
A horn blared.
Startled, he whirled.
A Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department SUV pulled into the yard. The overhead lights whirred red and blue for a few seconds, as if in greeting, then stopped.
Tommy? Please, Gott, let him be all right.
Sheriff’s Deputy Tim Trudeau slid from the driver’s seat. He started to speak, then held up his hand and waited for a crack of thunder that rattled Henry’s teeth. “I think I have something of yours.”
10
Even with the lightning crackling across the sky overhead, no one moved for a second. Hail pinged on the shingled roof. A whoosh of blustery wind knocked Leesa back against the buggy. Henry grabbed her arm and righted her. She tugged free. Relief mixed with a dose of anger sent heat like her own brand of lightning through Leesa. She dodged Henry and marched into the northern wind toward the deputy.
“Is he all right?”
“It’s hard to tell.” Tim wiped at his face with a ragged towel as sodden as he was. “Not much of a talker. I stopped at Noah’s, and he told me to look for Henry here.”
Leesa zipped around the SUV and manhandled the door. Looking like a drowned puppy, Tommy was huddled on the seat under a blue flannel blanket. Tim had left his vehicle running and the heat on high. The truck smelled of wet little boy. Leesa fought the urge to climb in beside Tommy. “Are you all right?”
He hunched his shoulders and nodded.
“Come on, let’s get you inside. I reckon some of Seth’s old hand-me-downs will fit you.”
His face crumbled. “You still want me?”
Leesa took his icy, wet hand. “Nothing you can do will make us not want you.”
Head down, he slid from the seat into the cold wind and rain. Leesa threw her arm around him to shelter him from the storm. If only it was that easy to shelter him from life’s storms. Henry came up on the other side, and together they scrambled toward the house.
“Tim, come inside and get dry before you start back,” Leesa shouted over another long roll of thunder that sounded like a train picking up speed. “The coffee’s hot.”
Inside, a flurry of activity followed. They hung coats by the fireplace to dry. Mother brought towels and blankets to them. Father stoked the fire. Mercy handed out mugs of steaming hot coffee to the adults and hot chocolate for Tommy, who’d changed into Seth’s old pants and shirt.
In that time Tommy offered no explanation. He burrowed under a quilt in the rocking chair closest to the fireplace and sipped his hot chocolate. Henry stood close by, ostensibly warming his hands, but his expression said he feared Tommy would bolt and disappear again.
Leesa’s family melted away, claiming chores upstairs or in the kitchen. No doubt Mercy and Mother were straining to hear as they tossed vegetables in a pot of elk stew. The sweet perfume of cinnamon rolls scented the air, mixing with the comforting smell of burning wood.
Leesa turned to Tim, who had settled his tall, meaty frame on the sofa. His lips were blue and his teeth chattered. Leesa scooped up a blanket from the pile Mother had provided. “Take this. Can I get you more coffee?”
“I’m good. I can’t stay long. I told Juliette I would come for dinner as soon as my shift’s over.”
“Where did you find him?”
Tommy burrowed deeper into the quilt. His blue eyes were barely visible. Doodles, the family dog, propped his grizzled snout on the boy’s lap. Tommy’s hand slipped from under the cover and patted him.
“We got a call from the postmaster—”
“In Rexford?” Henry turned his back to the fire. If he stood any closer to it, the seat of his pants would catch fire.
“Yep. That’s the one. He said he picked up a boy who had hitchhiked across the bridge and was asking for a ride to Libby. Apparently Tommy here claimed his car had broken down, his cell phone was dead, and he needed a ride into town to get help. Needless to say, the postmaster saw right through that story.”
Tommy settled his mug of hot chocolate on the end table and sank farther into his chair.
“He offered to take a look at the car, but Tommy came up with some more fairy tale. Rather than argue with the boy, he drove into Libby and called the department. I met them at the train station, which it seems was Tommy’s actual destination.”
“You were going back to Kentucky?” Leesa tried to make eye contact with Tommy. He was having none of that. “With what? How would you pay for a ticket?”
He pulled his hand from the covers and displayed a wad of wet, wrinkled bills.
“My grocery money.” Henry scooped the money from the boy’s hand. “You stole from me?”
Leesa shot him a frown. Not now. She knelt in front of the rocking chair and tucked the quilt tighter around Tommy’s body. “Are you warm enough?”
His chin quivered. He nodded.
“I’d better get going.” Tim settled his coffee mug on the end table and stood. “No laws have been broken, and this seems like a family matter.”
“You’re sure you can’t stay for supper?”
Tim raised his head and sniffed like a wolf on the hunt. “It smells great, but Juliette will have my hide if I’m late for her mother’s Sunday pot roast.”
Leesa saw him out. Neither Tommy nor Henry had moved when she returned to take Tim’s spot on the sofa. A standoff? She studied the two faces, both morose. She decided to start with Tommy. “Why go to Kentucky? Kootenai is your home now. You have family here.”
“I don’t—”
“Maybe not by blood, but we are your family because we care for you. Right, Henry?”
Henry edged closer to Tommy. He cleared his throat. “Teacher is right. Just because I get mad at you doesn’t mean I’ll stay mad. I discipline you because I care about what happens to you. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t bother.”
“You were really mad this morning.”
A complete sentence with no sarcasm or disrespect. They were making progress. Henry squatted next to the rocking chair. He rubbed his fingers on its smooth varnished arm. “What you did was disrespectful. I want only gut for you, Tommy, and not only now, but for eternity.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy whispered. “I’m just mad. All the time.”
Henry patted his knee. “Believe me, I know the feeling.”
“Me too,” Leesa admitted. Not as much as in those days after the wildfire, but often enough. “All the time.”
“Really? Grown-ups feel this way? You get mad at Gott?”
“Jah.” Henry glanced at Leesa and then away. “After my fraa and our unborn bopli were killed, I was angry all the time. I wanted to die. I didn’t bother to get out of bed for a long stretch. I blamed Gott for everything bad. I forgot all the gut He had done.”
A knot swelled in Leesa’s throat. His loss was so much greater than her own. A wife and a baby he never had a chance to meet or hold. She swallowed hard. He wanted to reach Tommy so badly he was willing to lay bare his agony in front of her. She studied her hands in her lap, giving him space to do it.
“How did you get over it?” Tommy petted Doodles, but his gaze was fixed on Henry.
“I didn’t. A person doesn’t get over something like that.” Henry settled back on his haunches. His features had softened with his tone, and lines disappeared from his face. He was lost in memories. “You do learn to go on. We like to say that we’re just passing through this world and Gott knew the number of days our loved one would be here. Both are true. But it still hurts. I had friends who helped me. The bishop helped me understand Gott doesn’t make bad things happen. He allows them so we can become better people who can help others in their time of need. Like I’m helping you now. That’s what Christians do. That’s what your Gmay does.”
A long speech for a person of few words. Here was a man who cared so deeply for a little boy, he would do anything to ease his pain.
Tommy’s forehead furled. His expressio
n grew pensive. “Even after your fraa and your bopli died, you believed?”
“I always believed. Gott never said life would be easy. He said it would be hard, but He already overcame the world. He is always with us.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
“It will, one day.”
Tommy sighed. “Okay.”
“Okay. That doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions for running away, stealing the grocery money, and hitchhiking.” Henry took a breath. “When I think of you hitchhiking, I just—”
“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
A perfect, perfect apology. “Maybe not too many repercussions,” Leesa offered. “He did say he was sorry.”
Henry growled. “Of course a child has to learn that actions have consequences.” He scrubbed at his face with both hands. “That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Noah?”
With a slight shake of his head, he stood. “We’ll talk more about that later.” He held out his hand to Tommy. “We should get home. You have schul tomorrow, and so does your teacher.”
“Nee, nee.” Leesa hopped up. “Mudder makes enough stew for two dozen people. It’ll warm you both up. Plus, Mercy’s cinnamon rolls melt in your mouth. And it’s still raining. You’ll get drenched again and catch a cold or worse.”
Seth, Job, and Levi stomped to the top of the stairs and peered down over the balcony. “Does that mean we can come downstairs now?” Seth, always the ringleader, called out. “We want to play Life on the Farm. Tommy can play too.”
“I guess that means we’re staying.” Henry backed away to let the stampede of boys through. He landed on the sofa next to her. His face suddenly crimson, he scooted down. “It’ll be gut for Tommy to spend time with your bruders.”
“What did Noah say that causes you such concern?”
“He wants Tommy to move in with the Planks.” Henry’s expression turned somber. “Mind you he hasn’t even spoken to them yet, but he says they’ll give him the firm hand he needs.”
“Nee, he needs stability. He needs you.” She put her hand to her lips to stymie the flood of words. When they subsided, she let it drop. “It will only make things worse.”
