Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Can I stay a few minutes?” he whispered.

  What was she to say? Ruth waved from the schoolhouse door as David and Phoebe crossed the yard with Wesley in tow. After they had disappeared down Peckville Road, she turned to face Herman. “Okay, what do you want?”

  “My, my. Aren’t we snappy,” he said, but his grin had faded.

  “Just answer the question. If I’ve done something wrong, let’s hear it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You run a very tight ship here, Ruth. And that decision on the playground when your brother hit the home run was right on target. Not every schoolteacher calls things to that precision. I’d say you’ve landed in your home court.”

  Sudden tears sprung to her eyes. The praise touched her, and she had to glance away. But maybe she shouldn’t take the man’s words too personally. “Thank you,” she muttered anyway. Why be bitter about Herman’s words? They were kind enough.

  “I wanted to come up today to see how you were running things, and lo and behold I arrived at Phoebe’s place to find they were already planning a walk up with young Wesley. What a coincidence, don’t you think? But I would have come myself if I had to.”

  He settled onto a seat, as if he planned to stay. He vaguely glanced around. “What are your plans for the future after this year of schoolteaching?”

  She drew in a long breath. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I mean, it’s not as though I even planned to teach school in the first place.”

  “Your family’s reputation complicates matters.”

  Ruth’s eyes blazed, but she bit back a defensive retort. Where was Herman going?

  “But your father’s reputation clearly didn’t predict your fate,” he said with a smile. “Everyone should have known that, but apparently they didn’t. Not until Grandma Lapp made her move.”

  Ruth looked away and remained silent. Grandma Lapp was a tender subject.

  Herman forced a laugh. “I’ve traveled a lot. Maybe that’s why I’m more open-minded.”

  What is he talking about? Ruth wondered. Open-minded about my teaching school? Or open-minded about…

  He peered at her. “Have you traveled much, Ruth? And please—why don’t you sit down? You look uncomfortable.”

  “You’re grilling me. Why shouldn’t I be uncomfortable?”

  His grin returned. “I guess I am. Sorry. I didn’t mean my questions to come across that way. I am genuinely interested.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze. She’d cry soon—and she couldn’t let that happen. Herman’s “interest” was in her schoolteaching job—not in her as a woman. But oh, how she wished his words meant something else, something more. Maybe soon she’d get over the wound Ethan had given her.

  “I think you’re doing a great job,” he told her.

  She set her chin. “I’m glad you do.”

  She could make it through the next few moments until his interest faded and he left her alone. She would settle down for a goot cry before he was halfway across the yard, but he didn’t have to know that.

  He studied her again. “I like what I see, Ruth. You’ve turned the opportunity the community has given you into an accomplishment, as has your brother David.” He gave a little laugh. “I think he has Phoebe’s affections pretty much wrapped up.”

  “Not bad for a Fisher,” she said, the words sounding bitter to her own ears.

  “Now, there you go. You are sore, and yet you’ve done this.” His hand took in the whole schoolhouse.

  “I guess I manage. And I do like schoolteaching. I hadn’t…” She stopped short. Why was she spilling her heart to him?

  He wore a pleased look. “You have done well, and that’s all I can say. I like your adventurous spirit. Are you sure you haven’t traveled a lot? There’s something different about you.”

  “You don’t like me.” The words came out unbidden, and Ruth’s face flamed.

  He tilted his head. “Yah, I do like you, Ruth.”

  She kept her breath even. She was not going to take this conversation further. Not in a thousand years. Herman Yoder was not interested in her in that way, and she did not care for the man.

  He stood up and extended his hand. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

  “Maybe,” she allowed. But what in the world did he mean?

  Herman didn’t elaborate on his words. He gave her a wave and left through the schoolhouse door. She sat unmoving for a long time before she peeked out the window. He was nowhere in sight, and Peckville Road was empty.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  On Friday afternoon, Phoebe waited on Grandma’s front porch swing with Wesley seated beside her. The boy had a peaceful look on his face. Any minute now Mrs. Broman was due to arrive with her van, and Phoebe’s time with Wesley would be over.

  “Did you enjoy your week with us?” Phoebe asked him. She knew the answer, but if she said anything else she might cry. Wesley didn’t need to leave the farm with a teary-eyed host as his last memory. She had grown close to the child in the few days they had been together.

  “I liked being here,” Wesley said, taking his words slowly. “Y-you taught me so much.”

  “You’re a wonderful young man,” she whispered. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” She wrapped him in her arms and let her tears run into his hair.

  He looked up at her. “C-can I c-come back sometime?”

  “You are always welcome,” she managed.

  But that wouldn’t happen. The program didn’t work that way. Time moved on, and the next week would bring new challenges for both her and Wesley.

  Concern filled Wesley’s face. “Sh-should I-I-I tell Mrs. Broman about the accident?”

  “You don’t have to,” she told him. “It was not your fault, but it’s up to you.”

  “I-I m-might not,” he said. “Sh-sh-she…she might not let me c-come back.”

  Phoebe hugged him again. “You may not be coming back soon, Wesley—no matter what you tell Mrs. Broman. There are many children and only one little Amish farm. Mrs. Broman wants the other children to have their turn here.”

  He seemed to ponder the point and finally nodded. “I s-suppose that’s t-true. B-b-but I still won’t s-say anything.”

  Phoebe thought about her own half-truths of late. She hadn’t told Uncle Homer about Ruth, and things still hadn’t blown to pieces as they would have if Uncle Homer knew of Ruth’s struggles. These were the choices that came with adulthood and running a farm. She would have to bear them on her shoulders and follow her own conscience.

  “It was a goot week, Wesley.” She smiled down at him. “Let’s not let a little bit of trouble cloud the whole sky.”

  His smile widened, and he nestled against her. “I will always remember you, Phoebe,” he said. “And your s-stories about Grandma Lapp. I’m glad she dreamed about me.”

  “There’s the van,” Phoebe said. She stood and took Wesley’s hand. He carried his small suitcase as together they walked down the steps and out to the lane where Mrs. Broman parked her vehicle. The woman bustled out and waved to them. “Good afternoon, everyone. How are things going?”

  “Just fine,” Phoebe called back. “Wesley wants to stay another week, I think.”

  “Well, that’s good news!” Mrs. Broman exclaimed. “It means he must have enjoyed his time here on the farm. Did you?” Mrs. Broman knelt down to peer into his face.

  “I-I had a great time. Can I live here with Phoebe and David?”

  “Oh, that’s sweet,” Mrs. Broman cooed. “You are doing an excellent job, Phoebe. I must say, my confidence grows each week I bring children here. Your grandmother had a great vision, and I am glad it’s working out so well.”

  “I took Wesley to visit relatives with me on Monday night,” Phoebe offered. “We never spoke about taking the children off the premises, but it hope it was okay.”

  Mrs. Broman didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure it was all part of the experience. Wesley seems no worse for the
wear, and you did let us know.” Mrs. Broman ruffled his hair. “Are we ready to go?”

  Wesley nodded. He threw his suitcase on the seat and then hopped in the van.

  Phoebe kept her voice low. “My cousin gave me some advice about his speech problem. We tried to get him to relax and slow down his words. I hope that was okay.”

  Mrs. Broman raised her eyebrows. “We have the boy in a speech class. I didn’t know the Amish did such things.”

  Phoebe wrinkled her forehead. “We’re not trained, but I hope we helped.”

  “I’m sure it’s perfectly okay,” Mrs. Broman assured her. “I have to go, but we’ll see you next week. Ethan will drop off the children on Monday morning.”

  “Okay!” Phoebe called, but Mrs. Broman had already shut the van door.

  What would the new week hold? Had they finally ironed all the wrinkles out of the system? Phoebe waved as the van pulled out of the driveway. Wesley’s face was pressed against the glass, and Phoebe’s tears stung again.

  After the van disappeared from view, Phoebe turned and saw David framed by the barn door. “You should have come out to say goodbye.”

  “I thought about it, but one goodbye this morning was enough for me.”

  She stepped closer to reach for his hand. “He grew on us, didn’t he?”

  “Yah.” David hung his head. “And I’m not goot at goodbyes.”

  “You did so much for Wesley this week. He’ll never be the same.”

  “You had more to offer than I did.” He met her gaze. “You are wunderbah, Phoebe, in so many ways.”

  Warmth tingled on her neck, and she looked away. “What are you going to do for the rest of the evening?”

  His hand slid out of hers. “The ponies are taken care of, and the rest of the chores are done. Maybe I’ll go home and see if Daett needs anything.”

  “Will you be coming over to Uncle Reuben’s tomorrow?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Certainly. It shouldn’t take but a few hours for the men to clean up and repair the damage from the fire.”

  “I’m going up tonight to help prepare food for the work party.” She reached for his hand again. “Do you think next week will be as rough as this week was?”

  He laughed. “The fire at your uncle’s place was unfortunate, Phoebe. But I know what you mean. The protection of the Lord was very real during that fire.”

  “Grandma’s dream is reaching so many hearts and blessing them. I just want it to continue.”

  “I’ll be here. I know that’s a small comfort, but—”

  “Don’t say that, David,” she protested. “How would I run this farm without you?”

  He looked away. “You’d make it. There is always someone to help in the community.”

  “But not like you,” she insisted. “You have…I don’t know…you’ve become very necessary to everything around here. I think Grandma always knew you would.” She gazed into his face. “David, you are the one I depend on and go to for answers. Grandma knew I would discover who you are, and she planned for us to work together. You are not your daett.”

  “I hope not,” he muttered. “Thanks for seeing that.”

  “But I should have seen it sooner.”

  He took her hand this time. “Let’s just take what the Lord is giving and be thankful.”

  She beamed. “Then…to being thankful!” Joy bubbled up from her heart, and David was the cause. What wonders Grandma had envisioned.

  “Can we sit on the porch swing for a few moments and enjoy the victories this week?” she asked. “Just for a little while.”

  He looked uncertain.

  “Please,” she begged. “Your daett’s work can wait.”

  “Okay.” He gave in and followed her to the porch.

  She made room for him on the swing, and the chains squeaked in the still afternoon air. She looked at him and asked, “Do you think we will love them all as much as we did Wesley?”

  “Maybe,” he allowed. “The emotions might not be the same, but our hearts can give as much.”

  She nestled against him, with the strength of his arm on her cheek. “You say such wunderbah things,” she whispered.

  He was silent as the chains continued to squeak.

  She sat up straight again. “Have you heard anything from Ruth? Did she say what Cousin Herman discussed with her?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t dared to ask.”

  She chuckled. “Do you think it might actually happen? That Cousin Herman has an interest in your sister?”

  His face clouded for a moment, and Phoebe clutched his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that, David. I really didn’t. I was overcome with joy at the thought of Ruth finding the right home for her heart.”

  “I know. I have to stop being so sensitive about my family. But we’d best not ask too many questions of Ruth. She could easily go off in the wrong direction.”

  “I think happiness is possible for her!” she proclaimed. She leaned against him again. “Ruth and Cousin Herman would be perfect for each other.”

  “When are you leaving for your aunt’s place?” he asked, ignoring that point.

  “Anytime now,” she mumbled into his arm.

  “I’ll get Misty harnessed,” he said.

  “Not yet,” she begged.

  He grinned and walked off the porch. “I’ll have her out in a moment,” he called over his shoulder.

  She watched him walk toward the barn and vanish inside. She was not normally a dreamer—but if she were, she never would have imagined her love for David. Grandma was the dreamer, and Phoebe the recipient of Grandma’s gift. David had so many things she needed, and he had been there for her the whole time.

  “Thank You, dear Lord,” she whispered to God. “Thank You for seeing what I didn’t.”

  She stood up from the swing and entered the house. It only took her a few minutes to pack a small bag, and then she exited the house. David was in the lane and had hitched Misty to the buggy.

  “Sorry I didn’t get out in time to help,” she told him.

  He smiled and patted Misty on the neck. “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He tossed Phoebe the reins once she had climbed inside. “Have a goot evening at your aunt’s place. I’ll close the barn doors and shut things down tight.”

  “Thank you!” she called to him as he let go of the bridle.

  Misty lunged forward, but Phoebe still managed to wave as they swung past. David appeared so happy, so contented, and so joyful. He must be in love with her—but more than that, he had shared with her the joys and trials of this last week. Together they were more than either of them would have been apart. Wesley could have made his way into her heart, but David made the moments come alive. The Lord came first, and He made all things goot, but had the Lord not also made a man and a woman to live and work together?

  As she jiggled the reins, Phoebe felt warmth gathering at the base of her neck. She shouldn’t arrive at Aunt Millie’s red in the face like a love-struck teenager—even if she was in love. That must be what all the feelings that bubbled inside of her were about. Phoebe jiggled the reins again. Would David ask her to marry him someday? Could David be her husband? What did she expect in a husband? She had many questions but no answers. She hadn’t spent time dwelling on matters of the heart the way other girls apparently did. Maybe that’s why the wonder of David was so much greater. He was everything she desired, as if he had been there all the time.

  “Whoa there,” Phoebe called to Misty as they approached Aunt Millie’s driveway. She pulled in and stopped by the barn. The charred door burst open, and Uncle Rueben hurried out.

  “Howdy there! Who have we here?”

  “Your niece! I hope you have a place for me to stay tonight,” she told him with a grin. “I’ve decided to come over.”

  “You know you’re always welcome,” he assured her as he took Misty by the bridle. “Go on up to the house. I’ll take care of your horse.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Rueben,” she to
ld him. “Is everything going okay with the plans for tomorrow?”

  “There’s just some smoke and soot and a few burnt boards. I could have taken care of it myself, but you know how people are. They want to help.”

  “That is as it should be. I should get on my knees and apologize for not keeping better tabs on my charge.”

  “Now, don’t go there, Phoebe. It was an accident, and Wesley endeared himself to us.”

  “That he did,” she agreed. “But thanks again for being so understanding about it.”

  Uncle Rueben smiled as Aunt Millie shouted from the front door. “Are you coming up to the house, Phoebe? Or are you sleeping in the barn?”

  Phoebe grabbed her satchel and ran up the walk. Aunt Millie came down the steps to embrace her in both arms. They clung to each other for a long time.

  “Is everything okay?” Aunt Millie inquired, holding Phoebe at arm’s length. “Your eyes are red.”

  “I’m just happy,” Phoebe whispered. “So very happy.”

  “Oh, dear!” Aunt Millie proclaimed. She wrapped Phoebe in her arms again. “I guess I was wrong about David.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  On Saturday morning, Phoebe stood inside Uncle Rueben’s barn. She held a garbage bag with both hands while Aunt Millie and Ruth shoveled soot and debris in with shovels. Several other women attacked the barn ceiling with brooms, leaving only the blackened undercoating from the fire. One of the men came in with a garden hose, and everyone moved back as he sprayed the water.

  Aunt Millie giggled. “You look worse than I do, Phoebe. We’ll have to wash up twice before we’re fit to serve lunch.”

  “You’d better!” one of the men hollered above the noise of the water. “I don’t want my food filled with soot.”

  “You should be glad we feed you at all after that insult,” Aunt Millie shot back, and everyone laughed.

  Phoebe stepped back with her garbage bag and waited until the water stopped dripping from the ceiling. Then she grabbed a broom to join the other women. In no time, they had the barn’s beams almost back to their original color.

  “Okay, everybody out,” Uncle Rueben ordered. “Things are clean enough, and the men need to work. They’ve loitered around all morning already.”