“Hey! Anyone in there?”
A beam of light shone on the buggy. Rachel saw the shock on his face, knowing it mirrored her own.
“Are you two all right?” A man knelt down beside the overturned buggy. “What happened?”
Tobias climbed out of the buggy’s opening, then turned and looked at Rachel with a strange expression, as if he didn’t recognize her. He extended his hand to help her out, and when she came to a standing position, he cleared his throat and said, “Got hit by a car.”
“What about you, hon? You okay?”
Rachel squinted at the kind man holding the flashlight. She tried to straighten her kapp, which was practically dangling from the side of her head, but she was fumbling so much she just made it worse. “I think so,” she finally answered, shoving in a pin and hoping the kapp would stay put. But she was anything but fine.
“My horse,” Tobias exclaimed, spinning around. His gaze darted around in a panic. He faced the helpful stranger again. “Have you seen my horse?”
“Down the road a bit,” the man answered. “Seems to be all right though. Scared, I imagine. Looks like you took quite a spill.”
Rachel turned and looked at the buggy, taking in the wheels. One of them was twisted, probably ruined. The full impact of what happened suddenly hit her. She’d known several people from her community and neighboring ones who had been killed in car-and- buggy accidents. That she and Tobias were still alive, much less with not a scratch on them, was a miracle.
“We should call the police,” the stranger said. “They’ll want you to file a report.”
“There’s no need to do that,” Tobias said. “I’ll get my horse, and I’ll come back in the morning for the buggy.”
“But, son, this was a hit and run. The person that did this needs to be caught and prosecuted.”
“That’s not our way,” he replied.
He tugged on his black knit skull cap, seemingly perplexed by Tobias’s response. “Well, all right. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“How about if I give you two a ride home?”
Rachel met Tobias’s gaze. They were at least two miles from her house, and over three miles from his. It would be a cold walk, but she didn’t relish the idea of letting a complete stranger drive her home.
“We’ll be fine,” Tobias said, saving her from having to answer. “Thank you for your kindness. It’s appreciated.”
A confused look crossed the man’s face. “I feel bad leaving you two out here in the cold. I can drive down the road to a phone and call someone for you. I accidentally left my cell phone at home.”
“We’ll be okay. We must go now. I need to find my horse.” In dismissal, Tobias tilted his head at Rachel and started walking.
Rachel looked at the kind gentleman. “Thank you for stopping. We both appreciate it. Tobias . . . he’s just worried about his horse.”
“I can understand that. I’m glad you’re both okay.”
“Me too. And thanks again.”
When the man walked back to his car, she turned to follow Tobias, who was already heading down the road.
Tobias suddenly started up short. “Wait a minute,” he said to Rachel, then dashed back to the buggy.
Rachel watched the red taillights from the car disappear into the darkness. She crossed her arms in a vain attempt to keep warm.
Tobias ran up to her, carrying the quilt. Without a word he wrapped it around her shoulders, then started walking again. Although the moon wasn’t completely full, it cast enough silvery light for them to find their way.
A flurry of emotions swirled inside her as she tried to process what had just happened between them. She’d kissed Tobias Byler. Not only that, but she had felt something when she did it. A warm, fuzzy feeling. A good feeling. No, not just good. Wunderbaar.
She’d never felt that way about Christian. Guilt overpowered her. She shouldn’t be feeling about Tobias this way. Or thinking about him this way. Or wishing they hadn’t been discovered so soon. Her thoughts and loyalties should only lie with Christian.
But they didn’t.
She was the lowest of the low.
Burdened by her guilt and falling farther behind as Tobias hurried his steps, she heard the whinny of his horse up ahead. The animal stood a few feet from the road, beside an open field. Tobias ran and caught him by the bridle. She heard him talk in soft, hushed tones to the horse, calming the animal until he came to a complete stop.
The buggy hitch was still attached to the harness. Tobias quickly detached it and left it in the field. Another piece of equipment he would have to get in the morning.
Rachel had finally caught up to him when he turned and faced her. There were a few houses on the road, interspersed among wide open fields. The glow of a single streetlamp mixed with the moonlight, but she couldn’t see his expression. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Why, oh why, had she kissed him?
“We can ride home,” he said matter-of-factly, as if nothing had happened between them.
“There’s no saddle.”
“I’ve ridden him bareback before. Don’t worry, he’s a good horse. Smart too. He’ll lead us back to your place.” He held out his hand to her.
She looked at it, hesitating. Her shoulders had started to hurt, undoubtedly from the spill in the buggy, and her toes were numb with cold. To refuse his offer would be stupid. Slipping her hand in his, she allowed him to help her on the horse. When she was situated, he slung his body up in one smooth motion, then positioned himself behind her.
She could feel the heat seeping from his chest to her back, even through the quilt. His nearness embarrassed her, but thrilled her at the same time.
“Hand me the reins,” he said, his tone as assured and confident as it normally was.
She did as he asked, and they were on their way. Sometime during the ride he wrapped his arm around her waist. When she turned her head to look at him, he said, “Don’t want you to fall off. We’ve had enough accidents tonight.”
“I’m sorry about your buggy,” Rachel said, though she knew he wasn’t just talking about his buggy.
“Just glad we weren’t hurt,” he said.
It didn’t take long for them to reach her house. Before he could get off his horse, she slid down the animal’s back and handed him the quilt.
Looking up at Tobias, she knew she had to fix this. “I’m dating Christian,” she said, a little too loudly, as if the volume of her tone could hammer that point home for both of them.
“I know,” he said solemnly, laying the quilt in front of him over his horse’s back.
“Just wanted to make that clear.”
He nodded, looking down at her. “He’s my friend. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Gut. I’m glad we understand each other.”
Tobias paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. Then he nickered to his horse and steered the animal around before making his way down the driveway.
Rachel watched him go, her heart heavy with guilt over the kiss. He must think her an idiot. Worse yet, a betrayer. Yet guilt and shame weren’t the only emotions pulsing through her. Something had awakened inside her tonight after she kissed Tobias. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew she would never be the same again.
Chapter 8
Moriah awakened before sunrise, double-checking her suitcase to make sure she had packed up all her belongings the night before. She looked at the clock Levi had given her on the nightstand, but she didn’t care about the time. For a few moments she contemplated taking the clock with her. But what would be the point? It would only serve as a reminder of her failed marriage. Turning, she left the clock behind as she exited her and Levi’s bedroom for the final time.
She entered the kitchen and set her suitcase against the wall next to the back door. As she glanced around the kitchen, taking in the old-fashioned wood stove, gray Formica countertops, and the unadorned window over the metal sink, she fought b
ack tears. She had spent so many hours in here, preparing meals, studying recipes, trying to make sure every bit of food she made would satisfy her husband. Yet it was all for naught. This was no longer her kitchen. No longer her home.
The door opened and she turned around. Gabriel walked in, a few pieces of wood in his arms. He laid them down next to the stove and removed his hat. “I didn’t expect you to be up.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I.” He held her gaze for a moment, then put his black hat on one of the three pegs next to the door. “I’ll make some coffee.”
“Nee. I can do it.”
Gabriel held up his hand. “Are you hungry? I make a mean plate of scrambled eggs.”
The thought of food made her stomach flip over, but she nodded. He seemed so eager to prepare breakfast for her that she couldn’t bear to turn him down, even though she knew he was doing it out of guilt over Levi. She remembered other times he had taken on his brother’s burden. More than once when they were in school, the teacher would confuse the twins. Often it was Levi getting into trouble, but Gabriel didn’t protest if he was the one being punished. Since Levi wasn’t here to make things right, she had no doubt Gabriel would try to.
Gabriel squatted in front of the stove and threw a couple handfuls of crumpled up newspaper into the firebox. He added two small pieces of dried cordwood, then struck a match and lit the fire. “This will be going in no time.”
Moriah nodded, then sat down at the table. She held her head in her hands. When she felt Gabriel’s hand on her shoulder, she jerked up.
“Moriah?”
The worried expression on his face touched her. “I’m all right.” She sat up straighter and tried to force a smile. She wasn’t successful.
“Can I get you anything? Are you cold?” He knelt down beside her. “What can I do to help you, Moriah?”
She couldn’t speak for a moment. While she appreciated Gabriel’s concern, she couldn’t help but question it. He’d kept her at arm’s length for so long. Now he was treating her with such compassion, such tenderness. She didn’t know how to react.
John suddenly came in through the back door, his expression a mask of concern. “There you are,” he said, looking at Gabriel as he shut the door behind him. “You weren’t at the house when I woke up, and it didn’t look like your bed had been slept in. Had me worried for a minute.” His gaze went to Moriah, then back to Gabriel, who was now standing. His bushy brows furrowed. “Want to tell me what’s going on here? Where’s Levi?”
Gabriel expelled a long breath. “Sit down, Daed. ”
Shaking his head, John said, “Now I’m really worried. If you have something to say, just say it.”
Moriah watched as Gabriel quickly told his father about Levi. John sank down in the chair and never said a word. Silent tears streamed down his wizened cheeks. Gabriel walked over and put his arm around his shoulders.
Sorrow filled her as she witnessed Gabriel trying to comfort his father. He knelt down, and John wept on his shoulder. For the hundredth time she wondered why Levi would do this. How could he hurt all of them so deeply? She wiped at the tears dangling on her eyelashes, not wanting Gabriel to see her crying also. He couldn’t comfort them both, even though she knew he’d try.
John sat back in his chair and swiped at his face with the back of his hands. “I don’t know why Levi did this, but we can’t lean on our own understanding. God is in control.” He looked at Gabriel, then at Moriah. “He will see us through this. I trust in that, and I hope you do too.” He held out his hands. “We need to pray for Levi.”
Moriah hesitated to take John’s outstretched hand. Pray for Levi?
“Levi made his decision, Daed.”
She looked up to see that Gabriel hadn’t moved either.
“Ya, but we don’t know what has influenced that decision.” John kept his hands out, palms facing up. “We can pray against whatever has come between him and his faith and family. We can also pray that he comes back.”
Drawing the slightest bit of hope from her father-in-law’s words, she slipped her hand into his roughened one. After a bit more hesitation, Gabriel finally did the same. Moriah closed her eyes and listened with a heavy heart as a father prayed, through fresh tears, for his wayward son.
The next morning, after spending her first night back at home, Moriah laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling but not really seeing anything. She rolled over and tucked her covers under her chin. She didn’t want to get up. Elisabeth, who she shared a room with, was already dressed and downstairs. Fortunately her sister had the good sense not to ask any questions about what had happened with Levi. But eventually she’d want to know. Everyone would.
With a sigh she realized that it was Sunday. A church Sunday. Services were held every other week, and the whole community would be there. They’d know Levi was missing, and the questions would fly. Part of her wished she had stayed with Gabriel and John. At least then Gabriel would have run interference, sparing her the pain of having to explain to everyone that her husband had left her.
But that would make her just like Levi, wouldn’t it? Refusing to take responsibility, fleeing from the consequences. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t put more of a burden on Gabriel. He had put up with enough.
A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door. “Moriah?” The sweet sound of her youngest sister Ruthie’s voice penetrated through the wood.
“Ya?”
“Mami wants to know if you’re coming down for breakfast. She made your favorite. Buttermilk pancakes. She even made some strawberry syrup to go with them.”
Moriah’s stomach growled, but she had no appetite. She thought to tell Ruthie no, but knew she had to eat for the baby. “Will you tell her I’ll be right down?”
“Ya.”
She listened to Ruthie’s retreating footsteps, gathering her courage to go downstairs. When Gabriel had dropped her off late yesterday morning, only Ruthie and her mother had been home. Her brothers were still in the woodshop with their daed, and Elisabeth was visiting a friend. After exchanging a few words with her mother, Moriah had gone upstairs, and stayed up there until her mother and father had come to talk to her. She didn’t want to face a barrage of questions from her siblings.
At that point she explained everything to them. Her mother had cried, but her father had remained silent and stone-faced. Moriah had never seen his countenance so stoic. Her father had always been an easygoing person, quick to laugh like her brother Tobias, but pensive when need be, like her brothers Lukas and Stephen. After a few moments he stood up and walked out of the room, never saying a word.
“Don’t worry about your daed,” her mother had said, wiping her tears with her handkerchief. “He needs some time.”
“Mami, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Moriah, sweetheart.” Her mother grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “You don’t have to apologize. This isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? He wouldn’t have left me if I had been the wife he needed.”
Emma Byler frowned. “No more talk like that, daughter. The blame is squarely on Levi’s shoulders, not yours. You understand? Blaming yourself doesn’t do any good.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I just can’t help feeling so . . . awful.”
“My sweet kind.” A tear escaped out of her mother’s red-rimmed eyes. “I hate to see you going through this. I’m glad you came home. We’ll help you through this. All of us will.”
Now, lying in her bed, thinking about that conversation with her mother, she knew she had to lean on her family almost as much as she had to lean on God. Just because her life was a mess didn’t mean she could avoid them, or anyone else. Church attendance had always been mandatory, and she would be expected to be at the service with her family. She’d always loved attending church services in the past. She loved spending that special time with the community, and the hymns and sermons fed her soul. But today, she wanted to stay in bed. She didn’t wa
nt to go, but she knew she’d be expected.
Rising from her bed, she put on her Sunday dress, fastened her kapp, slipped on her shoes, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The hum of her family engaged in quiet conversation reached her ears before she made it to the kitchen.
But when she entered the room, all activity stopped. Everyone except her mother and Elisabeth were already seated at the table. Moriah turned her gaze on each one of her siblings. Tobias had an uncharacteristically sullen expression on his face, along with a dark bruise on his forehead. She briefly wondered how he’d been injured. Lukas, the only black-haired member of the family, looked at her with a mixture of pity and concern. He’d turned eighteen last month, but had an old soul. Thirteen-year-old Stephen kept his focus on the plate in front of him, even though it was empty. Ruthie gave her a look of encouragement that far surpassed her tender age of twelve. Elisabeth finally turned around, carrying a basket of fresh-baked biscuits. She went straight to Moriah and held them out to her. “Want a biscuit, schwester?”
With a smile, Moriah took one. “Danki, Lis.”
“No problem. Welcome back. It’ll be nice to have another set of hands around here. I’m tired of washing the dishes all the time.”
“Hey,” Ruthie said, scowling. “I wash them too, you know.”
“When you don’t have your nose planted inside a book. Which is never.”
“All right, all right, girls,” Moriah’s father said, holding up his hand, palm facing outward. “Let’s stop arguing and sit down for prayer.”
“Yes, Daed,” Ruthie and Elisabeth said simultaneously. Moriah didn’t miss the taunting looks that passed between them.
When everyone was seated, the family joined hands. “Dear heavenly Father,” Joseph said. “We thank Thee for bringing us together and for the abundant meal You’ve given us. We also thank Thee for bringing Moriah to us today, Father. Let her know that she is deeply loved, not only by You, but by all of us. Amen.”
Her eyes burning, Moriah opened them and looked at her family, who had immediately started tucking into their meal. For the first time since she’d read Levi’s letter, she didn’t feel utter despair. This was where she was meant to be. With her family. Her father hadn’t needed to petition God to show her how much she was loved. She felt it all around her.
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 12
