The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  He stopped squirming, but only for the moment. Deborah carried him further into the living room before setting him down on the couch in front of the picture window. She tucked the tail of his light blue shirt into his small, gray, broadfall pants. Someone had turned the light on in the living room, so she knew her father and sister had gotten the message from their Yankee neighbor about their arrival. Otherwise the house would be completely dark.

  She took her bag from Aunt Sadie and pulled out a little rubber and plastic car for Will to play with. As soon as she handed him the toy, he grinned, displaying his tiny, two top teeth, the only ones he had so far. He took the car and started rolling it across the couch cushions, happy for the moment.

  Deborah plopped on the couch and leaned her head back. She didn’t know how her aunt could be so perky after the long car ride. Deborah was exhausted. She hadn’t realized traveling could be so tiring, especially with a toddler who had a voracious appetite and off-schedule sleeping patterns.

  Sadie planted her hands on her ample hips. “Wait until your grandfather sees you, Mr. Adorable! He’ll eat you right up!” Sadie bent over and tweaked the child’s nose. Will giggled, as he always did when she fussed over him.

  Deborah smiled. A few minutes passed, but her father and Naomi still didn’t appear. Where were they? Her aunt was right; one of them should have at least greeted them by now.

  Her gaze landed on an old hickory chair her great-grandfather had built eighty years ago. A colorful, worn quilt was folded over the back. Her mother always laid that quilt on her lap in the wintertime when she was sitting in the living room, often reading a book or working on a cross-stitch project. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed it down, still not completely accepting that she was back home to say good-bye, instead of hello, to her mother.

  Aunt Sadie sat down next to Deborah, putting an arm around her shoulders. Her black-and-purple-striped tank top and lemon yellow shorts stood out in the austere room like a zebra at a horse auction. “It’ll be all right, sweetie. It hurts more than anything right now, but your mami is at peace.”

  “I know.” Deborah wiped her nose with the top of her index finger. “I keep reminding myself of that. But sometimes it’s cold comfort.”

  Sadie nodded. “When my Rodney died, I thought I wouldn’t make it. It’s hard on the ones left behind. So very, very hard.” Sadie kissed her on the cheek and stood up. “You keep an eye on that pipsqueak while I go look for my brother.” She walked out of the room, calling out, “Moses! Show yourself! Your buggy’s in the driveway, so I know you’re here. Now give us a proper greeting!”

  Deborah looked around the small living room. Two years wasn’t that long of a time, but it seemed like forever since she had last sat in this room, telling her parents that she was pregnant. She had expected them not to care, to ignore her as they had when she turned sixteen. But her mother had burst into tears and her father had stared at the floor for a long, long time, not saying a word. She had hurt them; she knew that now. Her sister wouldn’t even speak to her, other than to say she was embarrassed that they were related. In her quest for the attention she craved, she had made a mistake that had affected not only her, but her entire family.

  It had been hard to leave Middlefield, and especially difficult to leave Elisabeth Byler, her best friend who had stood by her during that terrifying time when she had no idea what to do. Elisabeth had visited her only once before Will was born, but she had written several letters. They had been her only tangible connection to Middlefield.

  Will started to climb down off the couch. He steadied himself on anything he could grab hold of, no matter how off balance it was. Deborah snatched him up and pulled him toward her, then lifted up his blue short-sleeved shirt and tickled his belly. He giggled, his gunmetal gray eyes growing wide. She could see more and more of his father in him with each passing day, especially in his smile. But since Chase rejected his son before he was even born, Deborah had considered Will 100 percent hers.

  He struggled once again to get down, using his chubby arms as leverage. Instead of letting him go, she gathered him up in her arms and stood, resting him on her left hip as she left the room in search of her father and Sadie. Her aunt should have found him by now. The house wasn’t that big, only three bedrooms upstairs, a dining room that her family had only used for company downstairs, along with a serviceable kitchen and the tiny parlor, and of course, the unfinished basement where they had held church over the years.

  As she and Will neared the kitchen at the back of the house, she could hear a faint rattling sound, as if someone was clanging two dishes together. Low light came from the room. Naomi had to be in there. Her stomach twisted into a pretzel. Would her sister say anything to her? Or would she just ignore her, like she had most of their lives? Her elder by ten years, Naomi had never had anything but a volatile relationship with Deborah. And what would she say about Will? Would she continue to pretend that he didn’t exist? The thought pained her more than the memories of her sister’s constant dismissal.

  Deborah willed her nerves to steady as she entered the kitchen. “Naomi?”

  Naomi didn’t turn around right away. She finished drying a plain white dish, then put it in the cabinet to the right of the sink.

  Some things never change.

  Finally Naomi turned toward them. Her sister looked a little older than the last time she had seen her. Deborah noticed a couple of silver strands threading through her dark brown hair, which was parted neatly in the middle and covered with a white handkerchief instead of a kapp. Naomi had always been thin and willowy with sharp features. Deborah had never been as slender as Naomi, but she’d packed on the pounds since Will’s birth and still had several stubborn ones to lose.

  Naomi folded the damp dishrag into a small square and laid it on the edge of the sink. Her steely eyes narrowed a bit, but her gaze never went to Will, even when he started protesting about being held again.

  Deborah shifted him in her arms, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get out of her embrace. “Enough!” Deborah’s command settled Will, and he leaned his head against her shoulder. He probably sensed the tension in the room. It was thick enough to slice with a hacksaw.

  Naomi still didn’t react. “It’s late.”

  “I know. We didn’t have much of a choice. I wanted to be here for the funeral.” Her chest constricted. “Why didn’t anyone call me when she died? I would have been here sooner.”

  Will whimpered. Deborah hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding on to him. She released her grip and set him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Stay there, lieb.” She held up her hand, palm facing out, the signal for him to stay put. She smiled when he complied. “Why didn’t you let me know about Mami?”

  “I wrote you right after she died. It’s not my fault the mail is slow.”

  “You should have called.”

  Naomi crossed her arms, her foot tapping against the floor. “You shouldn’t have left. If you wanted to be a part of this familye, you would have stayed.”

  “You know why I left.”

  “Then you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Aunt Sadie suddenly burst into the room. “I can’t imagine where your father is, Deborah. I’ve looked everywhere—” Her gaze landed on Naomi. In an instant an uncharacteristic frown tugged on her mouth. “Naomi.”

  Naomi didn’t say anything. She adjusted her kerchief and walked out of the room, her chin lifted. Her gaze remained straight ahead.

  Sadie pressed her red lips together. “That woman is enough to try the patience of St. Peter himself. Can you believe she is the only member of this family who shuns me? Even your father didn’t do that when I decided not to join the church, before that self-righteous whippet was even born!”

  “Aenti, please.” Deborah went to her and put her arm on Sadie’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t let her upset you.”

  Sadie’s expression relaxed. She cupped Deborah’s chin. “And you should ta
ke your own advice. I can see she’s lit a fire under you already.”

  Deborah grimaced. “She’s always known how to rile me up.”

  Letting go of Deborah’s chin, Sadie clucked her tongue. “You two are like sugar and vinegar, you know that? I used to think it was because there’s such an age gap between you, but now I see it has more to do with personality than anything else. She needs to loosen up.”

  Will climbed down from his chair and held up his arms to Deborah. She started to pick him up, but Sadie slid over and grabbed him around the middle. “Let me get this doodlebug something to eat. Deborah, go see if you can find your father. I checked the upstairs and the basement.”

  “He might be out in the barn.”

  “Why would he be out there this late at night?”

  “Sometimes he’d geh out there just to think.”

  “I can name a dozen less smelly places to think, but to each his own.” Sadie carried Will to the pantry. She brought her red mouth close to his ear. “I doubt we’ll find any Twinkies here, but I’m sure we can conjure up something decent.”

  Deborah walked out of the kitchen and into the small mudroom by the back door. A lantern hung on a long peg attached to the wall. She took it and lit it with a match from the cast-iron match holder affixed next to the peg. A glow filled the darkened room and she walked outside.

  The scent of cow dung instantly hit her. Her father raised Angus cows, selling off part of the herd each year. She held up the lantern. To the right of the backyard was a split-rail fence, boxing in the several-acre pasture where they grazed. As she moved forward, the light illuminated the pasture, and she was surprised to see the grass had grown several inches high. Usually the cows kept it shorn close to the ground.

  Turning to her left, she saw the barn. Her father had always run the farm by himself. She and Naomi, along with their mother, had helped out with some of the chores—feeding the cows, weeding the garden and the fields, and helping with the harvest. But her father had gladly shouldered the bulk of the work. She knew he had slowed down in the couple of years before she’d moved to Paradise. But had he slowed down that much? Maybe she hadn’t really noticed how much he’d aged until now. How could she, when she’d been so focused on herself and Will?

  As she neared the barn, she spied the chicken coop, and a few yards behind it, the goat pen. The goats had been asleep, but a few of them rose when they heard her, pressing their noses against the chicken-wire fence. She ignored them, knowing they would settle back down once she disappeared. A few flies hovered inside the doorway of the barn. She brushed them away as she walked inside, raising her lantern higher.

  Her father had always kept a modest herd, no more than thirty at a time. A few cows huddled around a bent metal feeding ring, munching on the remnants of a round bale of hay. The barn was partially open air, with two large windows cut into the north and west walls for ventilation. Still, from the overwhelming smell, she could tell the barn hadn’t been cleaned for several days. She searched the rest of the barn, but her father wasn’t there.

  Her concern growing, she left the barn and glanced at the field. “Daed ?” she yelled, walking behind the barn toward the small pond a few yards away. Like the pasture itself, the grass and cattails surrounding the murky water were overgrown.

  None of this made sense. Her father always took better care of their property than this. “Take care of the land and it will take care of you,” he’d always said. She would have never thought he’d ignore those words.

  She walked past the pond and several yards into a pasture that ended at a line of thin woods. The clouds that had cloaked the black sky drifted apart, and the silvery light from the moon shone down. It illuminated a large pile of brush, rotted logs, and twigs at the far end of the pasture, beside the split-rail fence that marked their property. Near the brush pile, she caught a flash of movement. She hurried toward it.

  The pile had always been there, with her father adding to it over the years. He always planned to burn it, but never did. As she walked closer, she could see it had grown taller than she was. The scent of rotting wood and sweet grass filled her nostrils. She circled to the back of the pile and let out a relieved breath. Her father stood beside the fence, his hands in his pockets, staring straight ahead. She rushed to him. “Daed!”

  When he slowly turned to look at her, she frowned. Glassy brown eyes stared back from his sun-weathered face. He seemed to gaze right through her. Crumbs of food blended in with his long, matted beard. He’d always worn it longer than most Amish men, but he had been particular about its appearance, combing it out and shaping it into a dull point so it didn’t completely take over his face. Sweat stains darkened his light blue shirt. Wrinkles creased his trousers. He looked as if he’d slept in his clothes for days.

  “Daed?” She repeated his name, softer this time. “Are you all right?”

  He stared at her, then blinked. “Deborah?”

  “Ya, Daed. I’m here.”

  He looked at her for a moment before facing the brush pile. “Your Mami’s gone.” His voice was flat.

  “I know. Naomi told me.” She wanted to ask why he didn’t call her, but his behavior unnerved her enough to keep that question to herself.

  Hatless, he rubbed his damp forehead, a strip of white compared to the rest of his tanned face. “She said you couldn’t come.”

  Deborah froze. “She did?”

  He nodded, still not looking at her.

  Why had her sister told him she couldn’t come? Naomi hadn’t even asked Deborah if she could come, and Naomi’s letter barely made it in time . . . But her father wasn’t in the frame of mind to give her answers.

  “How did you get here?” he asked.

  “Aenti Sadie drove. I got Naomi’s letter today, and we left right afterward. She brought both me and Will.”

  Deborah waited for him to ask about his grandson. When he didn’t, she shoved down her disappointment. “They’re both in the house, waiting for you.” She paused again. Her father stood so still, she wasn’t sure he was listening. “Daed, did you hear me?”

  “Ya.”

  But she wondered if he truly did. A couple of the cows lowed in the distance. “When was the last time you let the cows out?”

  He looked at her. “What?”

  “The cows. I was in the barn a minute ago. They need to go out, Daed.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me how to take care of my cows?”

  “Nee. I’m just surprised that you’ve kept them in the barn for so long. Usually they roam the pasture—”

  “You have a lot of nerve. You don’t have a right to question anything here.”

  His glare was the first hint of emotion he’d shown, and it scared her. “Daed, I didn’t mean—”

  “Geh. Now! Leave me be! Geh back to Pennsylvania. We don’t need you or your kinn here.”

  Her eyes burned with tears. She turned and ran back to the house so fast she nearly fell down a couple of times. When she dashed into the kitchen, she scooped up Will, who had been sitting at the table eating peanut butter and crackers. Her father had never yelled at her like that before. He’d always been a staid, but kind, man. Brushing a trembling kiss against her son’s cheek, she fought for control.

  “Deborah?” Aunt Sadie put down the remnants of a sandwich and got up from the chair at the end of the table. “Child, what’s wrong? Did you find your father?”

  “Ya.” Her voice quaked and she swallowed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Where is he?”

  “Out in the field.” She set Will back down in his chair. He picked up a saltine peanut butter sandwich and bit into it, smearing the creamy peanut butter on his chin. Deborah snatched a paper towel from the roll near the sink and dampened it with water, then wiped his chin.

  “Mmmmf!” he protested, turning his head away from her.

  Sadie stood next to her. “You might as well wait until he’s done, or you’ll be wiping after every bite.”
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br />   Will looked up at her, shoving another cracker in his mouth, his stubby fingers covered in peanut butter.

  Sadie touched Deborah’s arm. “For heaven’s sake, you’re shaking, and your face is stark white. Sit down and tell me what happened.” She guided Deborah to a chair.

  Deborah sat. While she had expected her sister to reject her, her father’s vehemence caught her completely off guard. Even when she had told him she was pregnant, he hadn’t reacted so harshly. The man she saw in the pasture was a stranger to her.

  “What did your father say to you?” Sadie sat down next to her.

  “He doesn’t want us here. No one does. You saw how Naomi reacted.”

  “Forget about her for a minute. Your father would never reject you, Deborah.”

  “You didn’t hear what he said. There’s something wrong with him, Aenti.” She tried to describe what he looked like and what he’d said in the field.

  Sadie tapped her chin, her bloodred fingernails matching her lipstick. “Moses and I haven’t always gotten along, and we haven’t talked much over the years. But he’s a good man. This isn’t like him.” Her penciled-in brows furrowed and she stood up. “Where did you say he was?”

  “Far end of the pasture. Behind the barn. Why?”

  “Let me talk to him. My bruder and I are long overdue for a conversation.” She hurried out of the kitchen, a blur of purple, black, and yellow.

  Will picked up his light blue sippy cup and took a drink. He pulled the spout out of his mouth and held it up to Deborah. “Ma?”

  “You want more?” Deborah took the cup from him. She lifted the half gallon from the table and poured more milk into his cup. She handed it to him, and he took a long drink, his slurping cutting through the silence in the kitchen.

  Her father’s and sister’s reactions made her think about what Thomas said right before she left. At least he wanted her, or what she could give to him, enough to marry her. But her own family didn’t seem to want her here. Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of Will. After the funeral they would return to Paradise. And while a part of her had always remained in Middlefield, it was now clear to her that this was no longer her home.