by Drexler, Jan
“Ja, for sure. Only the children.”
They both watched the calf settle into the trusting sleep all newborns enjoy.
After long minutes, Levi cleared his throat. “I’ll have to tell her to go back to Pennsylvania.”
“That would leave you right back where you started, wouldn’t it?”
“Ja.” Back to Waneta working too hard. Back to the lonely evenings watching his children’s sad eyes. Back to Eliza demanding he send the younger girls to her.
“Would she be willing to marry you?”
Levi snapped his gaze back to the deacon. “Marry her?”
“Haven’t you considered it? Would she make a good mother for your children? Does she seem happy living here?”
His mind raced. She would be a wonderful-gut mother, and she seemed to enjoy her home here. What more did he require for a wife? “I can ask her.”
“Then do. But take heed, Brother Zook. Sin crouches at your door, and you are setting the example for your children. Marry the woman, or you will have to send her away.”
“Ja, Deacon, I know.”
Levi watched the deacon leave, but his mind was on Ruth. Would such a young, beautiful woman consider him for a husband?
He turned back to Moolah, scratching her between the ears as she moved closer to him. What did a woman like her expect from marriage? When he’d married Salome, neither of them expected to love each other at first. It was a good match. She was a hard-working, faithful girl, and he had this farm. Love came later, for sure it did, somewhere in those hard years after the twins were born, and before she got sick. He knew he loved her as he watched her suffer through her illness, and as he said goodbye to her. They had a comfortable love, one that would have lasted all the long years of their married life.
But this Ruth Mummert...he felt things for her he had never felt for Salome. Was that love, also? If it were, it was like a fire that warmed him and threatened to burn him all at once.
What would his life be like, married to Ruth Mummert? She was opinionated, for sure. He had never met a woman with stronger opinions, but she didn’t stop there. She acted on those opinions. He had never heard of a woman working in the cowshed the way she had last night.
On the other hand, he had never met a more feminine woman, either.
Would she marry him? He was so much older than her, and all he had to offer was hard work.
She thrived on the hard work, but would she rather have a younger man?
Levi sighed and patted Moolah on her boney shoulder. All he could do was ask.
Chapter Eleven
Waneta had dinner well in hand when Ruthy came back into the house, with bread cooling on the counter under a cloth and stew simmering on the stove.
“Denki, Waneta. It smells wonderful-gut in here.”
“Did the boys like the cookies?”
“For sure they did.”
Waneta hummed as she rolled out a piecrust.
“Waneta, do you mind if I go to the Dawdi Haus for a bit? I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I think I could use a rest before dinner.”
“Ja, for sure. Sleep as long as you like. I’ll get dinner for Dat and the boys and keep yours warm if you’re not up in time.”
“Denki.”
Ruthy went to her own little house, took off her shoes and fell onto the bed. She must be tired, that’s why Levi’s actions had unsettled her so. The way he had held her in his arms made her feel so safe, so protected.... But that isn’t what she should expect from him. He was her employer, nothing more. She had to remember that.
Ruthy pulled the quilt over her and closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. Opening them, she looked around the room, willing herself to relax into sleep, but instead the letter from Laurette caught her eye. She had stood the envelope against the hairpin holder on her dresser, and Laurette’s distinctive writing held her gaze.
She had to read that letter sometime, and it might as well be now, when sleep refused to come. She stood at the dresser, looking at the address while she removed her kapp and brushed out her hair. Perhaps if she went through the usual bedtime motions, she would be able to sleep. She took the letter back to her bed and burrowed under the quilt again.
Dear Ruthy,
I was so sad to hear that you moved west. I’m sorry we haven’t been friends lately, and I know it’s because of Elam, but I hope you can forgive me and think of me with sisterly love as you used to.
I wish I had some funny story to tell you, or some good news to share, but I can’t think of anything. I have been so sick lately, and it takes all of my strength just to cook dinner. When Elam is away, I don’t even do that.
We had such a cold spell after you left that I didn’t even leave the house for a week. Elam left the gate to the chicken house open in the middle of the cold weather and we lost all six of the hens to a fox. Elam was sorry about it, of course, but now we have no chickens and no eggs.
Last week felt like spring was nearly here with a warm wind from the south and sunshine. I went outside for the first time in weeks and sat in the sun. It felt good until the clouds blew in.
I don’t know what I’d do without your mam. She came twice a day while Elam was away last week. She even cooked dinner for me and scolded me because I hadn’t been eating my vegetables. Don’t tell her, but I don’t eat them because they don’t stay down. I lose nearly everything I eat, but I know that’s normal for someone like me. Sometimes I wonder why people have babies, if this is the trouble they cause.
You must write and tell me about the family you’re caring for. Your mam said your letters sound like you’re enjoying your job caring for those ten children. I couldn’t believe it when she told me! It makes me tired just to think of it. But with all those children, you must have some funny stories to share.
Please write back, dear sister. I know I hurt you terribly, and I’m so sorry. My greatest wish is to hear you say you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
I must close so your mam can take this letter to the mailbox for me.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
Your friend, Laurette
Ruthy’s eyes filled with tears. Laurette had a husband, a baby on the way and now Ruthy’s own mam.... What she wouldn’t give to be held in Mam’s arms, just for a minute, and Laurette was right next door, where Mam could drop in at any time....
Throwing the letter to the floor, Ruthy turned her back on it and buried her head under her pillow. Hot tears trickled across the bridge of her nose.
She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. She had wasted enough tears on Laurette and Elam. Jealousy burned hot, hardening the icy shell around her heart into brittle crystal.
Laurette wanted her forgiveness? She wanted their friendship to continue? It was too late. Too late. Ruthy could never forgive what Laurette had done to her.
* * *
Ruthy slept through the noon meal, waking to a room dim in the late afternoon dusk. She had never slept like this during the day when she wasn’t ill, but her head ached as if she were. Sitting up on the side of the bed, she saw Laurette’s letter, white against the dark floor. She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened. She had work to do.
Rising quickly, she twisted her hair into a bun and adjusted her kapp. She slipped into her shoes and hurried through the passageway to the main house.
The kitchen was full of noise, with Waneta, Martha and the little girls chatting as they prepared fried ham and potatoes for supper. Sam’s face lit up when he saw Ruthy and came running to her.
“Ruthy, I saw her! I saw the calf! And it’s my turn to name her!”
“Ach, Sam, that’s wonderful-gut. What name have you chosen?”
Sam’s face fell. “I wanted to name her Ruthy, after you, but Dat said ne.”
/> Ruthy laughed, the gloom of the day vanishing at Sam’s words. “Ach, your dat’s right. At home, we never name our cows after people we know.”
“But why not? It’s a good name, isn’t it? And I love her as much as I love you.”
Warm tears sprung into her eyes as she put her arm around the little boy’s shoulders. He would never know how much his simple words meant to her. “If you named the little cow Ruthy, and then one day told your dat you were going to feed Ruthy, how would he know if you were talking about her or me?”
“Ach, that’s right.” Sam’s worried brow cleared. “I’ll have to name her Buttercup, then. That’s the name of Johnny Lapp’s cow, and she’s real nice.” He took Ruthy’s hand. “It’s all right to name her after another cow, isn’t it?”
“Ja, that’s fine. You’ve chosen a wonderful-gut name.”
“Ruthy, do you feel all right?” Waneta’s concern showed in her voice.
“I’m fine. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night and needed to catch up. You girls have supper nearly ready. Is it that late already?”
“For sure, you slept a long time.”
“What can I do to help?”
Supper was on the table before long and the family sat in their seats, falling into silence as Levi sat in his chair and cleared his throat. He looked at Ruthy, his brown eyes soft in the lamplight, then around the table at the children.
“I have something to confess. I’ve neglected our evening prayers since...well, for the last year or so. I want you children to forgive me, and we’ll start again tonight.”
“For sure, Dat, we forgive you. You needn’t even ask,” said Elias.
“Denki.” Levi cleared his throat. “Before bed we’ll gather in the front room...and Ruth, if you’d like to join us...”
She raised her eyes to look into his. “Ja, Levi Zook, I would be happy to.”
He smiled at her, and she thought maybe she hadn’t imagined how she felt when he had held her in his arms earlier.
* * *
Levi sat in his chair next to the stove with the family Bible and the Christenpflicht—the book of prayers. After Deacon Beachey had left the barn that morning, he had considered what marriage to Ruth Mummert would mean. Not only her company and her partnership in the family work, but he also craved having a future to look forward to again.
Ever since Salome had become ill, he had only lived from day to day, running the farm and raising the children the best he could. When he had thought to marry Ellie Miller last year, he hadn’t considered much beyond the convenience of having someone to take over the household responsibilities and the care of the children.
Marrying Ruth would mean more than seeing his family complete with both a mother and father again—he would have someone to share his journey...and he would share hers. More children would come along, if God blessed them in that way, and the family would grow. That was a future to work toward.
By the end of his day of musings, he had begun to look forward to marrying Ruth very much.
But could he convince her? She treated him kindly, but more as a sister would her older brother. He had never really courted a woman, since he and Salome had known each other from the time they were children. How could he make marriage look appealing to a young woman like Ruth?
The first step to start moving the family forward again and making Ruth feel a part of it, he had decided, was to go back to leading them in morning and evening prayers. Before Salome died, he had followed the same pattern his father had, reading a chapter from the Bible and one of the prayers from the Christenpflicht at each prayer time.
The children gathered in the big front room, arranging themselves near the stove. Ruth sat between Sam and Nellie on the floor, as if she were one of the children.
“Ruth,” Levi said, “take the other chair. It must be uncomfortable on the floor.”
She glanced at Elias, and then said “Ne, denki. I’ll sit on the sofa.”
Ruth crowded on the sofa next to Jesse, and Sam followed her, climbing onto her lap. She cuddled the boy close and put her other arm around Jesse.
Levi looked around the room from face to face. His children. The Lord had blessed him so greatly.
“At the close of this day, let us turn our hearts and minds to our Lord Jesus Christ.” Levi opened the old German Bible to the gospels and started reading from the first chapter of John. “‘In the beginning was the Word....’”
Reading to the end of the chapter, Levi was struck again by the beauty of the words. How had he neglected this for so long? He closed the book and reached for the little Christenpflicht, turning to the first prayer. “‘O Lord, almighty God and heavenly Father...’” He read slowly, letting the words of the martyred forebears find their way into the children’s hearts. As he finished the prayer, the room was silent for a few minutes before anyone stirred.
“Denki, Dat.” Waneta was the first to speak, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I missed our family prayers. We haven’t done it for a long time.”
Levi glanced at Ruth. She sat with her cheek leaning on the top of Sam’s head, watching the fire in the stove. What was she thinking?
The clock struck the hour and he shifted in his chair.
“Ach, children, it’s off to bed. The little boys are half-asleep already.”
“Dat, can I check on Buttercup?”
“You go on to bed, Sam. I’ll look in on Buttercup when I’m out checking the others. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Waneta herded the younger children up the stairs and the others followed her, leaving him and Ruth alone in the front room. She tucked her feet up on the couch and rested her head on her hand.
“What are you thinking about?”
She started, as if she had forgotten he was still in the room. “Ach, I was just thinking how nice it was to hear the scripture read. It reminded me of home, and made me wonder what the folks are doing tonight.”
“Do you miss them? Your family and your friends?”
“Sometimes. I’m thankful for letters. When I get a letter from Mam it’s almost as good as talking to her.”
“Was yesterday’s letter a good one?”
Ruth’s smile disappeared as she stared at the stove. “That one wasn’t from Mam.”
Levi moved from his chair to sit next to Ruth on the sofa. He had to be closer to her to ask what he needed to ask.
“Deacon Beachey’s visit today wasn’t just a social visit.”
Levi studied her profile in the lamplight until she turned to face him.
“Did he come to talk to you about me for some reason?”
“It was about you, and me. I never thought having you work and live here would be a problem....”
“But it is? Because we were—”
“Ja.” Levi interrupted to keep her from saying the words. His fists clenched at the memory of holding her in his arms, and he longed to move closer to her, take her in his arms again, protect her from what he had to say. “It seems that Deacon thought we may be living in an inappropriate way.”
Ruth’s cheeks flushed as she turned away from him and started to rise from the couch. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t go. I told him the truth.”
“But that wasn’t good enough, was it?” Her voice was soft, resigned. “It doesn’t matter what we do or don’t do, it’s the appearance, isn’t it?”
“Ja.” Levi sighed with the word, but didn’t move his hand from her arm. “He wanted me to send you home, but I can’t do that.”
Ruth shot him a look. “Disobey the deacon? How can you do that?”
Levi ran his hand along her arm and grasped her hand. “He had an alternative to sending you away.” He swallowed. This wasn’t the way to ask her to marry him, but he didn’t have time to
do it right. “We could get married, and then everything would be proper....” His voice failed him.
They both stared at the stove, listening to the sounds of the children drifting down from the second floor.
Finally Ruth stirred. “Ja, it would be proper.” She took her hand from his and rose, wrapped her arms around her waist and walked closer to the stove, standing with her back to him. “Why would you want to do this?”
Why? His mind flashed with visions of holding her in his arms, talking together, sharing their lives together, but when he looked at her ramrod-straight back, the words wouldn’t form. Would she even welcome his embrace? His kiss?
“I need you to stay. I want you to stay.”
She turned to face him, her eyes shadowed in the lamplight. “Why, Levi Zook? Why do you need me to stay? Why would you marry me to keep me from leaving?”
What could he tell her? He wanted her, but more than that, he needed her to keep his family together. He cast about in his mind for reasons—what could he say that would convince her?
“I... Well, there’s Eliza. She still wants me to send Nellie and Nancy to her.”
“It would break their hearts to leave you.”
Levi nodded. “With you here, they have a mother, do you see?”
Ruth turned back to the stove, her shoulders slumped. “Ja, I see. That’s a good reason, I suppose.”
A thrill of hope ran through Levi. Would she agree to be his wife?
“We would make a good family—you and I...”
“And the children.”
“Of course.” Levi sighed. This conversation wasn’t going the way he had wanted it to, not at all. Why couldn’t he tell her how she made him feel? She continued standing with her back to him, shutting him out.
When she spoke, her voice was soft, as if she were talking to herself. “I would be able to stay here. I would have a home, ja?”
“This would be your home, with me. With us.” Levi rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. She spoke as if she expected him to make her leave...but that was the alternative the deacon had given, wasn’t it? If she refused, how could he watch her walk out of his home? Out of his life?
