Return to Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

“Sadie doesn’t like me very well.”

  He thought about it for too long, which told Fern all she needed to know. “Nae. We came in the same buggy. We’re standing together in the yard in plain sight. She already knows we’re friends.”

  Fern would have protested, but she really wanted to hear the first words that came out of Sadie’s mouth, in case Sadie was feeling nasty instead of forgiving. She let Reuben lead the way as they marched across the lawn. Reuben might have been going to a triumphal reunion, but Fern felt like she was marching to a funeral.

  Matthew Eicher must have been telling a funny story, and die youngie laughed as if they were having a wonderful-gute time. Sadie stood with her back against the tree flanked by Esther and Serena. Even though Matthew was talking, it was clear that Sadie was the center of attention. And why wouldn’t she be? She was by far the prettiest girl in Bonduel, and her dat was the bishop. Everyone loved Sadie, except for maybe Fern, and Reuben would say that Fern was just jealous.

  Sadie glanced up, and Reuben caught her eye and waved. She waved back as if she were obligated to acknowledge him but would rather not. Then she tapped Esther on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear while Esther smiled as if she’d been saving it up for a long time.

  Reuben tensed beside her. “Maybe she’s not as eager to talk as she sounded in her note.”

  Fern’s mouth went dry. “She seemed happy about it five minutes ago.” Did Sadie plan to punish Reuben for hurting her feelings? Or was she glad to see him but felt she had to be subtle about it so as not to draw attention to herself? Did she want Reuben’s friendship or his humiliation?

  Fern’s stomach dropped to the floor. Either way, this evening was not going to turn out well for her. She shouldn’t have come, no matter how badly Reuben needed her.

  Fern ignored the pang in her heart and squared her shoulders. She was nothing if not durable. Hadn’t she endured many worse things in her life? She couldn’t think of a single one at the moment, but surely there were bigger problems than a heart shattered into a million unfixable pieces and her hopes and dreams spilled on the floor like an overturned bucket of nails.

  “Fern!” Sadie exclaimed, as if she had just noticed her. She pushed herself from the tree and threw out her arms. Was she going to hug Fern? She’d never been that friendly before.

  Jah. She was going to hug her.

  More in shock than anything else, Fern stood as stiff as a stone pillar and let Sadie pull her into an embrace. “I’m so glad to see you,” Sadie said, taking her by the elbow and dragging her toward the group of young people. “I have a big surprise.”

  Sadie left Reuben to follow or not, and Fern couldn’t help but think she’d done it on purpose. It wasn’t too hard to guess what game she was playing. Indignation oozed out of Sadie’s pores like sweat. She was out for revenge. The hostility made Fern shiver, even as Sadie squeezed her elbow and pulled her forward.

  The small group parted as Sadie led Fern into the midst of them. Right in the middle of die youngie stood her brother John with his hands out and a grin stretched across his face. “Hullo, sis.”

  Fern gasped and launched herself into John’s arms. “You said you weren’t going to come.”

  He laughed as he squeezed the stuffing out of her. “I changed my mind. Dat sent me to fetch you home, and”—he paused and glanced past Fern to Reuben, who stood apart from the group looking as if someone had smacked him in the head with a stick—“I came to make things right.”

  Fern pulled herself from John’s grasp, torn between her joy at seeing her bruder and that look on Reuben’s face, as if she’d somehow betrayed his trust. She flashed a hopeful look in his direction and mouthed his name.

  Sadie had somehow managed to get behind Reuben, and she nudged him forward into the little circle created by die youngie. “Look, Reuben,” she said, obviously pleased with herself. “Your former best friend.”

  Reuben eyed Fern with a mixture of pain and longing on his face, as if he ached to forgive his best friend but had dug his heels in too deep to actually do it. Fern’s heart hurt for both of them. It was plainly written in the tortured lines of his face that Reuben wanted to reconcile with John—but not like this, not with all these people here—not if it meant that Reuben would have to grovel in front of the people he wanted to impress the most. His broken heart was not a circus sideshow.

  But Sadie had turned it into one.

  “Reuben’s girlfriend, Linda Sue, fell in love with John,” Sadie announced, looking as smug as a flat-nosed cat. “John and Linda Sue are engaged, but Reuben refuses to forgive John. Isn’t that the most pettiest thing you’ve ever heard?”

  Nae. Not the pettiest thing. Reuben’s resentment didn’t even come close to Sadie’s jealousy.

  Fern would put a stop to it right now. “What’s between John and Reuben is between them alone. This is not the time or place.”

  Sadie wasn’t about to be deprived of her triumph. She folded her arms and smiled at Fern as if she were the stupidest person in the world. “You’re such a sweetie, Fern, and so sensitive, but why not settle it now?”

  Esther nodded eagerly, like a butcher sharpening a knife just before sticking a pig. “We want to see Reuben open his heart to Jesus and forgive John for taking his girlfriend.”

  Reuben’s eyes flashed with anger, and Fern could almost hear his spine stiffen as he drew himself up to his full, impressive height. He focused his gaze—not on Sadie or even John—but on Fern. His withering glare knocked the wind right out of her. “John didn’t take my girlfriend. He stole my girlfriend. He sneaked around behind my back even while Linda Sue and I were dating. He lied to my face, and I believed him. I thought he was my best friend.”

  “We never meant to hurt you,” John said, but few words were ever more wasted. He’d said them so many times, they almost had no meaning. It was the reason Fern had come to Bonduel in the first place. Reuben had to be coaxed, and John couldn’t have known that his apology served no purpose except to make Reuben feel weak and humiliated.

  Reuben scowled. “Hurt? I wasn’t hurt. I was betrayed by the two people I trusted most in the whole world. I’ll never forgive you for that.”

  “Did you hear that?” Sadie said. “Reuben refuses to forgive, and yet for weeks he flirted with me and Esther at the same time.”

  “He made me think he wanted to marry me,” Esther whined.

  Sadie blinked back some very large alligator tears. “Me too. I thought he was going to propose. He didn’t care one lick about breaking both our hearts.”

  Matthew Eicher looked downright concerned. “I don’t know how they treat girls in Sugarcreek, but in Bonduel, we don’t lead them on like that.”

  “That wasn’t the way it happened,” Fern said, because Reuben had fallen silent, and she wasn’t about to let Sadie get away with making Reuben look wicked. “Reuben was trying to be nice. You must have misinterpreted—”

  “He washed all three of my dogs,” Esther said, as if that proved he loved her.

  A storm raged on Reuben’s face. He took a deliberate step away from Fern as his eyes flashed like lightning. “I don’t need you to defend me.”

  Fern caught her breath. She’d never heard such disdain coming from his mouth, as if he despised her even more than he hated John and Linda Sue. A sharp and ragged piece of ice pierced her heart. Did he really hate her that much?

  Fern couldn’t seem to catch any sort of breath as Reuben glared in her direction. He didn’t want her help. He didn’t want her here. Hadn’t he plainly told her so weeks ago?

  In concern, John turned his eyes to Fern. Fern shook her head slightly. John could charm the quills off a porcupine, but his interference would only make things worse.

  With a nod of his head, Reuben motioned in Sadie’s direction. “I painted your fence, but I never said anything about marriage.”

  Sadie turned up the tears, and Serena put a protective arm around her. “I showed you around the dairy,” Sadie said, manag
ing to sob and gloat at the same time. Sadie’s dramatics were very impressive. “We played Scrabble with the whole family. You worked hard for my dat’s approval. Don’t pretend you didn’t. You acted as if you wanted to marry me, all the while leading Esther on at the same time. I thank the gute Lord that He showed me your true character before it was too late.”

  Esther nodded. “Linda Sue is much better off with John.”

  Annoyance dripped from Sadie’s expression as she glanced at Esther. “What I was going to say is . . .” Sadie surveyed the curious faces around the circle. Die youngie stood at rapt attention, even as Felty and Anna visited with Dorothy and Melvin, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing not thirty feet away. “I don’t wonder but Linda Sue saw who Reuben truly was and was overjoyed to escape.”

  “My bruder is the best of men,” Fern said, unable to hold her tongue. “But Reuben is just as gute. He spent hours painting your chicken coop.”

  “And flirting,” Sadie said, turning up her nose. “Linda Sue is blessed to have found John, even though he is who he is.”

  Even though he is who he is.

  Nobody had to ask what Sadie meant by that. John and Fern were the children of a poor pig farmer. Fern knew what people thought of her family.

  Reuben clenched his jaw so tight, Fern could hear his teeth grind together. Sadie’s meaning hadn’t escaped him. Sadie wanted to make it clear that she thought Reuben was lower that John King. It was probably the most cutting thing she could have said to him, and Fern had no argument against it. She knew what people thought of her. She had tried to pretend that Reuben didn’t believe the same thing, but it was plain by the horrified look on his face that he had absorbed every word.

  Her throat tightened, and she bit back bitter tears. She wouldn’t cry. Crying was Sadie’s trick, and an unfair and deceitful one at that.

  Sadie wiped her eyes and sniffed in Reuben’s direction. “You can’t even see fit to forgive your own best friend.”

  Fern gazed around the circle. Matthew and Aaron acted as if they didn’t know what to do or whom to believe. Serena looked as self-satisfied as a cat. Fern hadn’t invited her to join the knitting group, and she probably felt justified in hating everyone from Sugarcreek. Too bad Fern hadn’t even known Serena existed when she had started the group. Esther’s mouth puckered as if she’d eaten a whole lemon, and she stood with her hand propped on her cocked hip, gloating with her whole body. It was plain that she hadn’t yet guessed that if she treated him poorly, Reuben wouldn’t be over again to do her chores. She’d find out soon enough.

  “Reuben,” John said, reaching out to lay a hand on Reuben’s shoulder.

  Reuben was having none of it. He stepped away from his best friend.

  John pulled back his hand as if Reuben had tried to bite it. “Reuben, I truly am sorry for what happened. I would be so grateful if you would forgive me. And so would Linda Sue.”

  A hole gaped open in the pit of Fern’s stomach. Couldn’t John see how humiliated Reuben already was? She wanted to yell at him for being so stupid. Maybe he thought this was his one and only chance to make a face-to-face apology.

  He’d get no forgiveness now.

  “Let’s go somewhere to talk about this privately,” Fern said, without hope that Reuben would agree. His expression was already fierce and hard, as if he was set in stone and would not be moved.

  “You should forgive him, Reuben,” Matthew said. He was trying to be helpful, but every word, every frown from one of die youngie only served to cut Reuben’s legs out from under him. Reuben was stubborn and proud—in a good way. He wouldn’t stoop to apologize when it was clear that Sadie only wanted his humiliation served cold on a platter.

  “Jah, you should,” Sadie said.

  “This isn’t the time or the place,” Fern said again, making her voice loud and insistent. She would not stand by and watch Sadie beat Reuben down.

  Johnny Raber stepped forward and nudged two people aside. “Fern is right,” he said. “This is a singeon. Not a confession.”

  Fern’s heart galloped along her rib cage. Johnny would have rather danced a jig than say anything out loud. He never spoke a word unless it was absolutely necessary. She nodded at him, hoping he saw the deep gratitude in her eyes. Johnny Raber was awkward and shy, but he was also a very kind boy.

  “No better time for Reuben to clear his conscience,” Sadie said. Fern wanted to poke Sadie with a pin. Sadie knew Reuben wasn’t going to forgive John in front of everybody. In fact, she was counting on it.

  Fern folded her arms to keep from bursting with indignation. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she said. “Reuben yelled at the knitting group almost a month ago, and Esther still can’t let it go.” She pointed to Sadie. “And you won’t forgive Reuben for not wanting to marry you.” Fern was so angry her hands shook. It only made it worse that Sadie was eyeing her with barely disguised disdain, as if Fern was a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum. “You’d rather embarrass him in front of everybody.”

  “I’m not embarrassed,” Reuben said, clenching his fists as if he were trying to squeeze all the blood out of his palms.

  Fern could feel the heat and rage radiating from his body even from four feet away. She had to get him away from here. “Reuben, we need to—”

  He looked away, as if he couldn’t stand to lay eyes on her. “Don’t, Fern. Just don’t.”

  Fern couldn’t breathe past the lump in her throat.

  “I don’t care what any of you think,” Reuben said, “and I never will. Gossip all you want. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.”

  Without looking back, he pushed his way through the small group of young people and took off across the lawn.

  Fern glanced at John, and the pain in his eyes must have matched hers. “Stay here,” she said. She could usually talk Reuben down from one of his bad moods, and John’s presence would only make Reuben hostile.

  Vell, more hostile than he already was.

  Sadie tossed one of her bonnet strings over her shoulder. “I told you he would refuse to humble himself. We’re better off without him.”

  Fern peered at Sadie and shook her head. She felt sorry for someone so pretty and yet so spiteful. “Shame on you, Sadie Yoder,” she said, before turning her back on all of them. She could hear Sadie protesting loudly that she’d done nothing wrong. Fern followed Reuben as he walked quickly past Anna and Felty, who were still visiting with Melvin and Dorothy.

  “Reuben, dear, where are you going?” Anna called.

  Reuben paused long enough to answer his mammi, in the most bitter tone Fern had ever heard. “I’m leaving Bonduel, and good riddance.”

  Anna furrowed her brow. “But what about your knitting?”

  Reuben clenched his teeth as if he was chewing on his resentment. “I hate knitting, Mammi. It’s a waste of time, only fit for old women and spinsters who don’t have anything better to do with their lives.” Reuben turned and stalked down the lane toward the road.

  Anna caught her breath and tears pooled in her eyes, but Reuben was long gone before he saw what damage he had done. As much as Fern wanted to go after Reuben, she couldn’t leave Reuben’s mammi in such a state. She took Anna by the hand. “I’m sorry, Anna. It’s no excuse, but Sadie was very rude to Reuben, and he isn’t thinking straight.”

  Felty put his arm around Anna’s shoulder, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and handed it to her. “There, there, Annie girl. He had no call to say that to you.”

  Anna dabbed at her eyes. “Reuben is a gute boy, but he’s had a very hard few months. No matter what he says, I know deep down in his heart he loves to knit.”

  “I knew I was holding back my full approval for gute reason,” Dorothy said.

  Melvin nodded but didn’t seem inclined to remark further.

  Fern gave Anna a quick hug. “I’m sorry to leave you, but I need to catch up with him.”

  “Jah,” Anna said, cheering up considerably. “Reu
ben needs you, Fern. You’re the only one, even though he can’t see past the nose on his own face.”

  Fern stole a glance in Sadie’s direction. She and three or four of die youngie had their heads together, no doubt talking about how concerned they were for Reuben’s soul. John stood off from Sadie’s group with Matthew and Aaron and some of the others, looking as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Fern pressed her lips together and nodded to John. The singing was about to start. She’d come back for him. Reuben needed her more than ever. She wouldn’t abandon him, no matter how badly he thought he wanted to be left alone.

  Reuben had disappeared from sight around the bend in the road. She’d have to run to catch up with him. She walked as quickly as she could in her long dress until she rounded the bend. Reuben was a couple of hundred feet ahead, walking fast. Fern had always been speedy. As long as he didn’t start running, she could catch up with him in a trice. She picked up her skirts and ran, being careful to make as little noise as possible. He might break into a sprint if he heard her coming up behind him.

  If he heard her, he chose not to do anything about it. “Reuben,” she panted as she slowed to a walk alongside him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He didn’t slacken his pace or look at her, but his frown hardened like mud on a hot day. “Montana,” he said.

  “Walking all the way?”

  He stopped so quickly, his shoes scraped against the asphalt. “Go home, Fern.”

  She couldn’t bear what she saw in his eyes—deep, painful regret and hot, barely controlled anger. Fern felt like weeping for him, but the last thing he wanted was her pity. “You know what an annoying tag-along I am. You can’t shake me that easy.”

  The muscles in his jaw twitched fiercely. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “I want to help.”

  “Help?” He narrowed his eyes. “They hate me. They all hate me. I don’t need any more of your help.”

  “They don’t hate you.”

  “You heard Sadie. She thinks I’m no better than a pig farmer.”

  Fern drew her brows together. Reuben couldn’t have known how much the derision in his tone hurt her. “Being a pig farmer isn’t so bad.”