The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  Zach looked up to see a Yankee man looking through the hole in the wall. He scooted his way around the truck, stepping over the rubble carefully, then looked at them with concern. “I was driving by and I saw the truck sticking out of the building. What a disaster. Are you two okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Zach said, but he didn’t say anything about Ruth. He’d never seen this man before, and while he was probably a well-meaning stranger, Zach didn’t want him involved.

  The man rubbed his salt-and-pepper goatee as he scanned the room. Zach caught a glimpse of the round bald spot peeking through his gray hair on top of his head. He glanced at Ruth, then Zach. “Is this your truck?”

  Knowing it was useless to lie, Zach shook his head.

  “You mean someone drove in here and then took off ?”

  Pausing for a second, Zach shook his head again. “Um, not exactly.”

  The man reached into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled out a cell phone. “I better call the police.”

  “Nee.” Zach stepped away from Ruth, pausing a moment to make sure she was solid on her feet. He strode toward the man, almost slipping on a spiral notebook. He could only imagine all the laws he’d broken today. The last thing he needed was a ticket. “This is my fault. I was driving my buddy’s truck and lost control. But we’re both all right. You don’t need to call the police.”

  Doubt crossed the man’s features. “Are you sure?” He peered around Zach’s shoulder and scrutinized Ruth. “Is that blood on her forehead? I could call an ambulance. Or don’t you people use regular doctors?”

  Zach realized the man wasn’t from around here. “We don’t need a doctor, but thanks for the offer.”

  Ruth stepped forward and stood next to Zach. “It’s only a scratch.” She dabbed the bloody cloth on the wound, then pulled it away. A few drops clung to the pale blue fabric. “See? I’m fine, really. You don’t have to call anyone.”

  The man frowned. “All right, but it’s against my better judgment. I can give you both a ride home at least. You’re not going anywhere in that truck.”

  Ruth shook her head. “My buggy and horse are here.” She kept her gaze focused on the Yankee.

  The man didn’t answer for a long moment, and Zach thought he might call the police anyway. Finally he said, “Guess there’s nothing I can do then.” He looked toward the hole in the wall then back at Zach and Ruth. “As long as you’re sure you’re okay . . .”

  “We are.” Ruth nodded, still not looking at Zach.

  “Then good luck to you. Looks like you’ll need it.” The Yankee took one more glance over his shoulder before disappearing outside.

  Ruth immediately started picking up several textbooks off the floor, hugging them close to her small frame. Her glasses slipped down her nose, but she didn’t bother to push them up. She also hadn’t bothered to listen to him when he’d told her to stay still.

  Putting his hands on his hips, Zach looked at her. “Ruth, halt. There’s nothing else we can do, at least not today. Come with mei. I can drive you home in your buggy.”

  Now she looked at him. “I’ll drive myself home.”

  “Nee. You don’t need to be driving with that bump on your head. I’ll take you.”

  “I’ll drive myself home.” Her voice had a slight edge that hadn’t been there before. “I feel fine.” Squaring her shoulders, she removed her glasses and tucked them in her free hand while setting down the textbooks she’d picked up a moment ago. Any trace of confusion or anger in her expression had disappeared. “But I feel I must inform you that I will be stopping by my schwoger’s haus. Gabriel is on the school board. It’s appropriate he be notified of . . .” She paused, her lower lip quivering for a second. “Of what happened here.”

  Zach’s shoulders hunched forward. “Ya, you’re right. I’ll have to let my daed know as soon as I get home. He’ll probably call an emergency meeting.”

  Ruth’s delicate eyebrows arched. “Your daed’s on the school board?”

  “Has been for years. You have him to thank for hiring you.”

  She stiffened, but her emotions were controlled. The complete opposite of how he would have reacted if their situations were reversed. He appreciated the way she kept her cool.

  “From what I understand it was a group decision.”

  Ouch. Maybe she wasn’t as calm as she seemed.

  Ruth looked around the schoolhouse again. “It took me two weeks to get everything in order.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She turned toward the hole in the wall. The remnant of a poster clung to it, fluttering in the summer breeze.

  Zach wanted to seep through the cracks in the floorboards— well, through the ones that weren’t splintered or destroyed already. His gaze followed her as she walked through the obstacle course to her desk and gathered her belongings into a navy blue tote bag. She slung it over her shoulder and started for the front door, clearly intending to leave without saying anything to him. She stopped just before walking outside and picked something up off the floor. A wooden apple, stained a rich red color. She brushed her tiny fingers over the glossy surface, then put it in her bag and walked out of the door.

  He couldn’t let her go just like that. He jumped over the mess, slid past Rick’s truck, and left the schoolhouse through the new exit he’d made. He rushed to her buggy.

  Standing behind her, he said, “Look, I’m really sorry.” His hat had fallen off in the accident, and he pushed back his damp bangs with the palm of his hand. It was a hot one today, the air surrounding them thick and heavy like a damp wool blanket. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, honest. And I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. The least I can do is take you home. I’m serious about you not driving with your head all messed up like that.”

  She placed her bags on the bench seat of the buggy before facing him. Her expression blank, she said, “As I told you, I’m perfectly fine to drive myself home. I only live two and a half miles away.” She turned from him and walked over to unhitch her horse.

  For some reason, her attitude rankled him. He’d rather she yell at him than behave as if everything was okay. That’s what a normal person would do. But Ruth was acting anything but normal. Giving up, he stepped to the side, then watched her back up her horse and buggy and ride away.

  After the clip-clop of her horse’s hooves faded, he turned and faced the nightmare in front of him. Dread filled his gut and made him temporarily forget about Ruth. He clenched his jaw. How was he going to explain all this to his daed ? He and his father had disagreed for years over everything from his choice in friends to the way he drove his buggy. But that wasn’t the end of his problems. He’d also wrecked his friend’s truck and destroyed an entire schoolhouse, not to mention making Ruth Byler really mad, even though she refused to show it.

  How was he going to fix all that?

  Chapter 2

  Ow!” Ruth winced as her oldest sister wiped her forehead.

  “You’re lucky it’s just a small cut,” Moriah said, dipping the wet rag back into a bowl of cool water. “You could have been seriously injured. What were you doing at the schulhaus today? It’s Sunday. You’re not supposed to be working.”

  Ruth grimaced again. It wasn’t the cut that bothered her but the knot her sister kept touching. “I wasn’t working, per se. I was just making sure everything was ready for tomorrow.”

  “Knowing you, I’m sure everything was perfect a week ago.” Moriah dabbed a little more. “You shouldn’t have been at the schulhaus, Ruth. You know that.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I was there or not. Everything would still be ruined.” She closed her eyes, fighting her bubbling emotions. Just remembering the destruction in the schoolhouse caused her stomach to twist. It had taken all her mettle not to lose her temper with Zachariah. Yelling at him wouldn’t have changed or fixed what had happened.

  She had driven over to her sister’s house right after leaving the schoolhouse. Now she sat in Moriah’s kitchen, trying to keep a logical he
ad about what had happened as her sister continued her ministrations. Moriah had stopped dabbing, so Ruth opened her eyes.

  “Sundays are the Lord’s days, Ruth. A day for rest. You would do well to heed that from now on.”

  Unable to take any more of Moriah’s hovering, Ruth took the rag from her. I’m not a glee kinn anymore. As the youngest of six in the Byler household, Ruth had spent her whole life trying to prove that she was capable, that she wasn’t the little sister everyone had to watch out for and protect. She’d never liked to be babied, which Moriah insisted on doing, even now. She was almost seventeen years old and could take care of herself.

  “I need to use the restroom,” Ruth said, standing up. She made her way to the bathroom, flipped on the battery-operated lamp her sister kept on the vanity, and closed the door.

  Looking in the mirror, she examined her forehead, noting the slightly off-center bump made by the flying piece of wood. Gingerly she cleaned off the rest of the blood dotting her skin, then rinsed the dust from her face with cold water from the sink. She dried her cheeks, then released a deep breath. Moriah was right; she was lucky she hadn’t been seriously injured. The wood plank could have struck her in the eye or hit her head with enough force to give her a concussion. She didn’t want to admit it, but both her sister and Zachariah had a right to be concerned.

  Her head throbbed, but the pain didn’t compare with the fury rising inside her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been at the schoolhouse in the first place, but Zachariah shouldn’t have been either. She took a deep breath, fighting to tamp her anger down. Zachariah Bender. It would figure he was the one to do something like this. Who could forget such a troublemaker?

  She hadn’t realized who he was at first, which could have been due to getting hit on the head. Or it could have been because he had changed since they had been in school together. She remembered him as a short, stocky boy who was always disrespectful to authority, annoying the teacher and everyone around him, except for the few boys he hung out with who laughed at his juvenile jokes. To Ruth, he’d been the most irritating person she’d ever met, and she had been jubilant when he finally graduated.

  But he had grown since then. He still had the same deep red hair, light-green eyes, and pale freckles on his face. But he’d grown several inches and lost some of his youthful girth. Now he was lean, muscular, and at least a head taller than she was. Well, his body may have changed, but his penchant for being irresponsible obviously hadn’t.

  Guilt pricked at her. She was judging him. But it was hard not to when faced with what Zachariah had done. When she gained sufficient control, she left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. From the smile appearing on Moriah’s face, Ruth surmised she had been successful in masking her internal struggle.

  The kettle whistled, and Moriah went to the stove and turned off the burner. Two white mugs were on the counter, a thin string with a small white tag dangling over the lip of each one. She poured hot water into each cup. Moriah handed Ruth a cup and gestured for her to sit down.

  Although she wasn’t thirsty, she acquiesced to satisfy her sister. What she really wanted to do was go home and try to figure out what to do about the schoolhouse. But first she had to tell her brother-in-law what had happened. When she’d arrived, Moriah had made such a fuss over Ruth’s injury that she hadn’t had the chance. “Where’s Gabriel?”

  “He’s out with the girls in the backyard. I’ll geh get him.”

  Ruth shook her head. Gabriel worked long hours in his blacksmith shop, and she didn’t want to interrupt his time with his daughters: Verna, who was almost four; Ester, almost three. Baby Leah had just turned eighteen months. “I can wait until he’s done.”

  “I’ll get the maed and Gabriel will take you home. I don’t want you driving yourself.”

  Ruth suppressed a sigh. Moriah’s words echoed Zachariah’s. His motives had been transparent, and she could tell he wanted to take her home more out of his guilt than for her safety. Moriah’s concern was genuine, though just as annoying. “That’s not necessary. I drove all the way over here from the schulhaus without a problem.”

  Moriah frowned. “If you ask me, Zachariah should have offered to take you.”

  “He did. I refused.”

  “But why? Ruth, I don’t understand you sometimes. It’s one thing to be independent; it’s another to be foolish.”

  “I’m not foolish.” Her voice rose, and she brought it back down. “I know my own body, and I’m fine.” Even if she hadn’t been fine, she wouldn’t have accepted a ride from Zachariah. Visions of the wrecked schoolhouse came to her mind. All her meticulous planning, wasted. All her hard work, ruined. School would be delayed until the schulhaus could be repaired, and her students would be behind from the start. How would she make that time up? Her head started to pound, and she brought her fingertips to her temples.

  “Ruth, it’s going to be all right.” Moriah came over to her and put her arm around her shoulders. “Maybe the kinner can meet at someone’s home until the school is fixed.”

  Ruth tried to shrug her off, but Moriah’s grip held firm. The idea was plausible. It would require flexibility on all their parts, but she would be willing to do it as long as the school board and parents agreed to it. Finally, Ruth gave in and accepted Moriah’s comforting.

  “Stay here and I’ll get Gabriel,” Moriah said. “He’ll be happy to take you home. He was just saying the other day how you two never get a chance to talk.”

  Ruth nodded, knowing it would be useless to argue with her sister, as Moriah would wear her down with kindness. Ruth was already worn down enough.

  Moments later Gabriel came inside the kitchen carrying Leah and Ester, with Verna and Moriah tagging close behind. The tightness around Ruth’s mouth relaxed at the sight of her nieces. Verna ran and jumped in her lap. Ruth’s arms went around the small child, feeling the sweat on her niece’s skin and dress from playing in the heat outside.

  “Aenti Ruth, I flipped out of the swing!” Verna grinned, her brown eyes twinkling, her smooth forehead beaded with sweat.

  Moriah gasped, but Gabriel chuckled. “First and last time.” He handed Leah to his wife and set Ester down on the chair at the table. He took off his yellow straw hat and threaded his fingers through his damp brown locks. “She reminds me so much of Levi. Not afraid of anything.”

  Ruth looked up at Gabriel’s mention of his late twin brother. Levi had actually been Moriah’s first husband, and he was Verna’s biological father. Ruth had only been twelve when Levi had died in a car accident. She’d seen how Gabriel had helped Moriah during that tumultuous time, supporting her through the pregnancy. Then they had fallen in love, marrying a year later and starting their own family. Verna had never met Levi, so Gabriel was the only father she knew. And he clearly loved her as his own.

  Moriah gave her daughter a stern look. “If you’re going to be reckless, you won’t be allowed to swing anymore.”

  Verna’s grin faded into a pout, and for the first time since Zach had crashed into the schoolhouse, Ruth had the urge to smile. She didn’t dare, though. Her niece might look adorable with her bottom lip poking out, but rebellious behavior wasn’t tolerated by any member of the family. Moriah picked up Verna and set her on the chair. “Stay put.”

  “But—”

  “You heard your mami.” Gabriel stood next to Moriah, unified in their discipline.

  Verna nodded and remained still.

  Ruth admired her sister and brother-in-law’s parenting skills. She planned to apply the same type of calm consistency in her classroom. If she ever had the chance. She gripped the edge of the table.

  Gabriel looked at Ruth. If he noticed her stress, he didn’t let on. “Moriah said you need a ride home.”

  “She’s insisting.”

  “Oh, so you don’t want to ride with your old schwoger?” Gabriel moved toward the back door where the pegboard held a couple of yellow straw hats and Moriah’s black bonnet.

  “Sorry, that’s n
ot what I meant. And you’re not old. What I should have said is she’s making me accept a ride from you. Which I appreciate, of course.”

  “Of course.” Gabriel gave her a knowing smile. “I don’t mind taking you home, Ruth.” He peered at her as he put his hat back on. “From the looks of that bump on your forehead, I don’t blame her for being concerned. She told me a little about what happened. I’m eager to hear the rest. Sounds like we have a problem on our hands.”

  Ruth said good-bye to Moriah and her nieces, thanking her sister for her untouched tea. Once she and Gabriel were on the road, she explained what Zachariah had done to the schoolhouse. The ride was short, only fifteen minutes, and she barely noticed the cars zipping by as she talked. By the time they reached her parents’ home, the sun had nearly set, leaving behind faint slivers of light between the feathery clouds.

  Gabriel slowed the horse as he pulled in front of the house. His normally placid expression was troubled. “Zach’s daed is on the board.”

  “I know. He told me.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be hearing from Gideon about a meeting soon enough.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want the students to be any further behind than they have to be.” No thanks to Zachariah.

  She reined in the thought. Mercy. Forgiveness. She was struggling to do what the Bible, and what her faith, directed her to do: apply mercy to him and the situation. But doing that just felt painful, like shards of glass sliding down her throat. She looked at her brother-in-law’s profile, his gaze seemingly fixed on the back of his horse’s head.

  Gabriel was a firm believer in forgiveness and leaving the past behind. He had hired Aaron Detweiler as an apprentice in his blacksmith shop after Aaron had spent time in jail and rehab. When Aaron returned home, he’d floundered around, trying to find his way. Gabriel, who always saw the good in others, gave Aaron a chance. Then Ruth’s sister Elisabeth had married Aaron about a year ago. Ruth knew she needed to see the good in people too.

  “Ruth?” Gabriel’s voice yanked her out of her thoughts. “We’re here.”