A Time for Peace

by Barbara Cameron

  Mary smiled at her parents as she set the table. She remained as shy and quiet as she had been the day Jenny met her, often excusing herself to curl up on her bed and write in the journal Jenny gave her. Annie looked up from the notebook she was scribbling the words she constantly collected and grinned.Joshua hung his jacket and hat on a peg and, though he appeared casual, Jenny saw that he took everything in. He'd always been that way, so much like his father: serious, steady, a boy of few words but always curious about everything.

  Funny, they weren't her biological children but they were surprisingly much like her.

  This was her family, Matthew and the children. She remembered what her father had said in the dream, that she had Matthew and the children now and yet all she could think about was what she didn't have. He'd said she didn't use to be like that.

  He didn't understand!

  The crick in her neck turned to a cramp and she moaned and rubbed at it.

  Joshua stood.

  "That's not all you're eating, is it?" Jenny asked him. "You can't get by on that amount of food until you have lunch at school."

  "Nee. I'll be right back."

  He grabbed his jacket and left the house.

  Jenny looked at Matthew. "Where's he going?"

  "I don't know. More coffee?"

  "Yes, thanks. It might help me wake up."

  "Maybe you can get some rest after they go to schul."

  Without saying anything, he sent her a message that he'd join her if she let him know she'd welcome him. Jenny felt her cheeks heat at the intense look, the intimate message he sent her. Even now, after they'd been married for several years, his desire for her came as a surprise.

  The connecting door to the dawdi haus opened and Phoebe walked in.

  "Phoebe!" Annie jumped up and ran over to wrap her arms around the woman's waist.

  Phoebe smiled and kissed the top of Annie's head.

  "Guder mariye," she said. "How is everyone this beautiful morning?"

  She said it to everyone but her gaze went straight to Jenny.

  "Good," said Jenny. She poured a cup of coffee for her grandmother and set it at her usual place at the table.

  Joshua came back in, shed his jacket, and pulled out Jenny's chair at the table. "Sit down and I'll rub your neck with this.It'll help."

  Jenny looked at the bottle he held in his hand. "Horse liniment? You want to rub horse liniment on my neck?"

  "Ya. It really helps Pilot when he gets a neck cramp."

  She looked at her husband and saw his lips twitching. "He's right, Jenny."

  Her son loved horses so much. He obviously felt that if it was good for horses, it was good enough for people, not the other way around.

  Joshua poured a small amount of the stuff into his hands."Come on, it'll make your neck feel better."

  Jenny bent to sniff at it and wrinkled her nose, then saw the look of eagerness on his face fade.

  "Oh, all right. If you're sure it'll help," she said and sat down in the chair.

  Joshua rubbed the liniment into her neck muscles, working at the cramping. Although her son's hands weren't big, they were strong from working on the farm with his father. She felt the cramping in her neck begin to subside. If it wasn't for the pungent smell, Jenny would have really enjoyed the massage.

  Annie made a face and closed her book. She picked up her bowl of oatmeal and moved down the bench to sit closer to Mary.

  Jenny sneezed.

  "How did you hurt your neck?" Phoebe asked sympathetically.

  "Fell asleep writing at the table last night."

  "I need to help out more. You shouldn't be up so late." Phoebe put her fork down on her plate. "I'll start with making supper tonight."

  "Maybe your pot roast?" Matthew glanced up from his breakfast, his expression interested. "With the potatoes and carrots? And do you think you could make that apple cranberry pie? It's my favorite of the ones you make."

  "Matthew! She needs to take it easy for a while longer. Now you have her fixing a big meal?"

  She wished she could call back the words when she saw Phoebe's face fall.

  "I've rested enough. I'm tired of being cooped up."

  "Jenny's right. It's selfish of me." Matthew patted Phoebe's hand. "Give yourself a little more time."

  "How is it feeling?" Joshua asked her as he withdrew his hands.

  "Much better," she told him, rolling her neck. "I just wish it didn't smell like . . . horse liniment."

  He grinned at her. There was probably nothing he liked better than being around horses. She hugged him and got up.

  "Everyone, hurry up. Don't want to be late for school."

  She made quick work of packing lunches. Matthew had told her that his favorite school lunches were those he ate during the winter when the students placed their sandwiches on the radiator to warm them. So she sliced bread, cheese, and ham left over from last night's dinner. The cheese would melt on the sandwiches when placed on the radiator, she thought. Melted cheese sounded so good, she thought, going to get an apple for each of them from the bowl on the counter. Joshua might even eat his if he didn't save it as an after-school treat for Pilot, she mused.

  "Cookies or whoopie pies?" she asked them.

  "Whoopie pies!" they chorused.

  Smiling, she added them to the lunch boxes. After a glance over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being watched, she withdrew several folded notes from a drawer and tucked them in with the food.

  She hugged the children as they left and gave Joshua an extra squeeze. He grinned at her and reminded her even more of his father.

  "Hope you feel better," he told her.

  "Thank you. Love you all. Be careful walking to school."

  Matthew followed them out the door, off to work in the barn.

  Which left Jenny alone with her grandmother.

  "I'd like to talk to you."

  "I need to—" Jenny began.

  "It's important," Phoebe interrupted her with some firmness.

  Inwardly sighing, Jenny sat.

  "I'm going to ask Lydia if I can stay with her until Chris's parents leave."

  Jenny couldn't have been more shocked. "Why would you do that? You're not comfortable in the dawdi haus?"

  Phoebe sat there with her eyes focused on her hands folded on top of the table. Then she looked up at Jenny. "I feel like I'm causing tension here."

  "You're not causing tension." Jenny's stomach churned.

  "You've been unhappy for some time now. You won't talk to me about it. You can barely look at me."

  She'd noticed. Jenny didn't know what to say.

  "Jenny, look at me."

  Then Jenny didn't have to find the words. They just spilled out of her. "I can't help it. I found the letter."

  "Letter?" Phoebe looked confused.

  "The letter from my dad, thanking you for letting him know I'd fallen for Matthew. That's why he came early for me that summer before college."

  Phoebe went white. "You found the letter? You read it?"

  Jenny jumped to her feet and paced the kitchen. "I didn't mean to. It fell off the shelf when I got your sweater for you."

  She stopped in front of her grandmother. "I didn't mean to read it. I just saw that it was in his handwriting and I was opening it. And then I couldn't believe what I saw."

  Jenny pressed her hand over lips that trembled. "I loved Matthew. I loved him so much and you helped break us up. I thought you loved me. I thought you loved Matthew."

  "I did. I do. Both of you." Phoebe's eyes filled with tears. "But I loved your father, too, and I couldn't see him hurt. I lost him when he couldn't live this life. He had a right to know that you were choosing it."

  Phoebe closed her eyes and then opened them. "I know what it's like to not see your child. How could I do that if you embraced this life and then chose to separate yourself here?"

  "I would have still seen Dad."

  "But you were so young. You weren't ready to make that decision. An
d your father wanted more for you. It was your mother's wish as well."

  "It was my life. My choice to make!"

  "Are you sorry you went to college?"

  "No. But look what happened afterward. Look where I went and what happened."

  "But everything turned out well. You have Matthew now. You have the kinner."

  "I lost so many years," Jenny whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm scarred and I'll probably never have children of my own."

  Phoebe stood and reached out a hand to her. "But you do. You have kinner of your own."

  "You don't understand. If you hadn't interfered, they could have been mine."

  "But they are—"

  "No! I could have given birth to them!"

  "What's going on?" Matthew asked.

  Jenny blinked. She'd been so wrapped up in her pain she hadn't heard the door open.

  Matthew looked at his wife, then at Phoebe. He hadn't believed his ears when he'd walked in and found them in a bitter scene.

  "Jenny? What's going on?"

  "Grandmother was telling me that she's thinking of moving out."

  "But Chris's parents are staying until the baby's born."

  "She says she wants to move in with Lydia until they leave."

  Matthew took off his hat and scratched his head. "I don't understand."

  "I don't either," Jenny told him. "I don't understand how someone I thought loved me could have betrayed me to my father," she blurted out. "My own grandmother betrayed me."

  Phoebe began coughing. Her face grew red. Before Jenny could react, Matthew pressed her into a chair and got a glass of water for her.

  "Danki," she said, sipping the water. The hectic color in her cheeks faded and the coughing ceased.

  "Perhaps you should go lie down," he suggested gently.

  Without waiting for her to respond, he took her arm and helped her to her feet, then walked her to her part of the house.

  When he returned, Jenny was sitting with her elbows on the table, her face in her hands. She looked up when she heard his footsteps. "Is she okay?"

  "Ya."

  She gave him a sharp glance. "Did you know that she told my dad about how we felt about each other?"

  "I wondered when he came to talk to me—"

  "You never told me he talked to you." She sank rubbed her temples. "You just mentioned once that you met him. What did he say?" When he hesitated, she dropped her hands into her lap. "Matthew, what did he say to you?"

  "Jenny, what point is there in discussing this?" he asked, reaching for her hand, frowning when she kept it in her lap. "All it can do is create bad feelings."

  She felt herself tensing. "Did he tell you to stay away from me?"

  He nodded heavily. "Ya."

  "I thought we loved each other. Why didn't you come tell me what he said?"

  "He told me he didn't want me to see you anymore. He said he wouldn't give me permission to marry you."

  "We didn't need his permission. I was eighteen."

  Too agitated to stay seated, she got up and paced the room again. "I don't understand why you didn't tell me."

  "He said he wouldn't give—"

  She threw up her hands. "I don't care!"

  "But Jenny, I wouldn't come between a father and his child. It's not done. The wishes of a parent are respected here."

  Tears sprang into her eyes. "Maybe you just didn't want to marry me!"

  "How can you say that? I love you. I loved you then. I love you now."

  "I don't know what to think." She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "The people I love, the people I thought loved me—all of you betrayed me!"

  She spun on her heel and started for the door. "I have to—I have to get out of here for a while."

  "Jenny! Don't go! Wait, at least take your jacket! It's getting cold outside!"

  "Where's Jenny?"

  Phoebe appeared beside him, coughing again.

  Distracted, Matthew turned and was alarmed by her color again. "Phoebe! You need to lie down."

  "I heard Jenny. She sounded so upset." She glanced around. "Where did she go?"

  "She said she needed to go for a walk."

  "A walk?" Phoebe walked to the window and glanced outside.

  "I need to go after her. She didn't take her jacket."

  But by the time Matthew got outside, he saw Jenny in front of the other farmhouse, talking with Chris.

  The two of them started walking.

  He'd lost his chance.

  When he returned to the house, he found Phoebe waiting with an expectant expression in the kitchen. Her shoulders slumped when she saw the jacket in his hand.

  "I couldn't catch her."

  "Maybe she just needs to cool off," she told him.

  "I don't want her catching a cold."

  "Perhaps she'll come back quickly. It's not like her to become so upset and walk off like that."

  "I don't blame her." He hung her jacket on a peg. "I should have told her. Maybe not back then. But when she came back here, I should have told her."

  Phoebe straightened. "We did what we thought was best."

  "I'm not so sure about that any more." He poured himself a mug of coffee. "Are you?"

  "Allrecht, I had my doubts sometimes. But when she came back and the two of you looked at each other again, I thought, well, God's giving them a second chance. It's all worked out. There was no need to make her upset at her father. She had enough upsetting her being so injured, so despairing."

  She walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a plate with a defrosting roast on it. "I'll start supper," she said.

  He'd been so happy to hear that she wanted to cook earlier. Now the thought didn't give him any pleasure.

  "Gut," he said and tried to appear enthusiastic. "I'm going out to the barn."

  "Jenny!"

  Chris. She walked faster and pretended not to hear him but when she felt his hand on her arm, she stopped.

  "Something wrong?"

  "I just wanted to go for a walk."

  She tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears from her cheeks but he turned her around to face him and frowned when he saw she'd been crying.

  "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head. "Listen, I just want to go for a walk."

  "You're cold," he said, mistaking her trembling for being chilled. He took off his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders.

  "I'm fine. Really." But she was grateful for the warmth and slipped her arms into the sleeves.

  "Okay," he said, drawing out the word as he studied her. "Can I walk with you?"

  "Hannah—"

  "Will be fine with my parents. Mom's telling her all about how I was growing up. And Dad? Well, save me from Dad.Please." He frowned as he fell into step beside her.

  "Still not getting along?"

  "Still? Ever, you mean. Stubborn old codger."

  "We could never use that word to describe you, could we?"

  "Codger? You better not."

  She suppressed a smile. "I meant stubborn."

  He slanted a look at her. "Me? Stubborn? Absolutely not."

  "It seems I remember your discussions with the bishop about some of the Ordnung rules before you joined the church."

  "You can't say you agree with all of them. Even though I learned respect for authority in the military, you can't be passive."

  "And then there was the way you persisted in planting certain crops against the advice of others."

  "Worked, didn't it?" His grin was cocky.

  "And then—"

  "Hey, is this a list?"

  "No." She smiled.

  She bent to pick up a brightly colored leaf from the side of the road. Looking up, she scanned the gray sky. She'd come here when it was a bleak and bitter winter years ago. The ground had been covered with snow. Soon it would be again.

  "Just saying maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

  "Better watch it if you say I'm like my dad," he s
aid, his voice a low growl.

  But she saw the teasing glint in his eyes before his expression became thoughtful.

  "I guess we get some of both parents, don't we?" he asked. "I know I can be stubborn. If I wasn't, there'd never be an argument with Dad. I'd just say, 'yessir' and that would be the end of it."

  "You'd probably give him a stroke if you did that now," she warned. "He'd think you were just trying to get him upset."

  He laughed. "Right."

  "I think you got your work ethic from both of them. Your dad hasn't rested since he came here. He's always looking for something to do."

  "Tell me about it. He doesn't understand that we need a little bit of a break after harvesting the old-fashioned way, without all the modern machinery."

  "What do you think you got from your mother?"

  "I'm not sure. I don't cook much. Thank goodness that's not encouraged in males so much here as in the Englisch world."

  "I think you got some of her thoughtfulness, her sweetness."

  "Hey, watch it. You're talking to a former military guy here. I'm a manly man."

  "Uh huh. I see how you act around Hannah. You do so many sweet things for her. Like the cradle."

  "You didn't—"

  "No, I didn't tell her. She still thinks she's going to use the one Matthew made for the children."

  She felt tears sting her eyes again and furiously blinked them back.

  "What is it?" he asked suddenly. "Why were you crying earlier?"

  They heard the car behind them at the same time. He moved to the other side of her, forcing her to walk closer to the grass, and shot a sharp look at the car passing them. The driver gave them a wide berth and drove on.

  "It's nothing."

  "Matthew doesn't strike me as the type of man who would hurt a woman," he said slowly, carefully. "But I've heard of several men in the community—"

  "Oh, it's not that," she said quickly, horrified. "Matthew would never hurt me."

  "There's hurting and hurting. Words can hurt more than a hand."

  She nodded. "No, if anything, I've hurt him by—" she stopped and shook her head.

  "I don't believe you've done or said anything to deliberately hurt him."

  "You'd be surprised." She sighed. "No, what I'm really upset about—I can't talk about right now. But I handled something badly. Really badly."