“Sorry.” Zachariah slicked back his wet hair with his hand. “Didn’t see you back there.”
“Obviously.” She tried to dry the lenses of her glasses on her dress, but the polyester blend wasn’t absorbing the moisture; it just smeared it around.
“Here.” He held out his hand.
“What?”
“Let me have your glasses.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Just give them to me. I promise I won’t break them.”
She hesitated. “Your past deeds say otherwise.” The snippy words slipped out, revealing her frustration. When she saw his lips press together, she knew she’d irritated him. “Ya, but I’m hoping someday folks will stop holding my past against me.” He tilted his head, beads of water sliding down his cheeks, exasperation in his tone. “Look, I just wanted to clean your glasses for you. I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal about it.”
“I have a napkin inside.” But before she could say anything else, he took the glasses from her. “Hey!”
He pulled his shirttail out and wiped the lenses with it, then held them up before handing them back. “See? No harm done.”
She put the glasses back on, the lenses perfectly clear, and actually cleaner than they’d been before he’d splashed water on them. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?” He tucked his shirt back in.
“Because they’re my glasses. I can clean them myself.”
“Do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Make things difficult? I’m trying to be nice here. Although it beats me why I even bother.”
His words gave her pause. He was right. He was being a gentleman, albeit a gentleman out of guilt. Still, she didn’t need to be rude. “Danki,” she said. “I appreciate you cleaning my glasses.”
“That’s better.”
There was the crooked smile again. She ignored it and stepped past him to the pump, holding the cup she’d brought underneath the stream of water. When she turned around, he was gone.
She headed back to the schoolhouse and walked inside. Zachariah was already there, munching on a candy bar as he picked up what looked like part of a student desk. She looked at the candy, causing him to glance at it, then back at her. “What?”
“That’s not very healthy.”
His eyes widened, his right cheek protruding with food. “You got something against candy bars?”
She shook her head. “They’re full of sugar and preservatives. You’re better off eating homemade cookies.”
“Are you offering to make me some?”
She froze for a moment, surprised.
“I’ll take that as a nee.” He grinned and licked a small bit of chocolate off his top lip, then threw the empty wrapper on a small pile of trash.
She wished he’d quit smiling at her. “I’m not a very gut baker.”
“That’s too bad. Because you’re right, a homemade cookie beats a candy bar hands down.” He gave her another sly look, then turned around and started working again.
Ruth frowned. Why had he looked at her that way, like he was sharing some sort of private joke with her? Her face became hot, and the temperature in the schoolhouse felt stifling. She picked up the catalog off her desk and started to fan her face.
The afternoon passed by quickly, and by four o’clock, they’d moved all the debris out of the schoolhouse. The unharmed desks and furniture were pushed up in front of the chalkboard. Zachariah picked up his tool belt and walked to the hole in the wall. “I’m gonna have to call it a day.”
She placed a tattered map of the world on her desk. “All right. I just have a few things to finish up here and I’ll be leaving too.”
He stood in the middle of the open hole, much like he had when he first arrived, including carrying his tool belt on his shoulder. He shook his head. “You should go home. I’m not sure how safe that partial wall is. It wouldn’t be gut if it came crashing down while you were here alone.”
“I’m sure the wall is perfectly safe.”
“Ruth, don’t argue with me on this. Get your stuff and get in the buggy.”
Her shoulders tensed. “You’re ordering me?”
“I’m strongly requesting.”
“I won’t stay very long. You don’t have to worry about me, all right?”
He strolled toward her. “I’m not worried about you, Ruth. You’ve made it plain to me that you can take care of yourself.”
She lifted her chin. “Gut. I’m glad you realize that.”
“But it would be irresponsible of me to leave you or anyone else here when I’m not sure about that wall, or the rest of the structure. And even though you’re telling me you’ll only stay for a short time, I know how much you want to get this schulhaus up and running. You think you’ll be here for a little while and the next thing you know it will be sundown.”
She looked away. That sounded like something she’d do. And she couldn’t argue his point, even though it surprised her that he was being so conscientious. He’d been full of surprises all day long. “I’ll grab my things.”
They both walked to their buggies, and she put her supplies in her vehicle. But when she went to untie her horse, she found Zachariah standing there, handing her the reins. She thought to say something but let it drop. He wouldn’t listen anyway. When she got inside the buggy, she took the reins and looked at Zachariah.
He brushed away a horsefly and met her gaze. “Now don’t get any bright ideas about coming out here alone tomorrow morning.”
“But—”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Ya. I am.”
He smirked as he walked away. “Thought so.”
“Being stubborn isn’t always a bad thing,” she called out to him.
“Never said it was.” He jumped into the buggy and gestured for her to lead the way.
She frowned as she pulled out of the driveway of the schoolhouse, still unsure what to make of him. Today he seemed nothing like the boy she remembered. Everything he said and did went against her impression of him. She might be stubborn, but at least she wasn’t confusing.
Why are women so confusing?
Zach shook his head as he made his way down Burton-Windsor Road. Several cars whizzed by him on the two-lane road, but he barely noticed them. Instead his mind was still on Ruth Byler. Why, he had no idea. She was the most unusual girl he’d ever met. Even a little seltsam. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Had she always been that uptight in school? He remembered her being smart, getting good grades all the time, and having all the answers. Teacher’s pet, he and some of the kids had called her. From what he could tell, she never seemed to mind. But then again, he hadn’t paid that much attention to her.
A hot breeze hit him square in the face. He urged his horse down the road, flanked by two huge green fields on his left and right. Several black cows grazed on one of them, and the scent of manure was heavy in the air.
He was glad she’d given in and left when he did. He wouldn’t have left her in the building alone, even if he risked being late for supper, something his father was a stickler about. Fortunately, though, he’d be home in plenty of time. That should make his daed happy.
As he turned left onto Hayes, he passed by Kline’s Buggy Shop. The Klines had just moved into the area, and the shop was only a couple of months old. Zach had stopped there once with a friend to order a new wheel. An idea came to him and he turned in the driveway. He pulled his horse to a stop, jumped out, and went inside.
A man about his father’s age stood behind a short counter. He wiped black grease from his hands on a dingy rag and set it next to the plastic cup of pens on the counter. “Just gettin’ ready to close up. Is there somethin’ I can help you with?”
Zach took a quick glance around the shop. It was small, but every bit of space was filled. To the left were two buggies, both almost framed. The chemical scent of paint seemed to permeate everything. The t
wo large tanks of compressed air next to a pneumatic paint sprayer explained why. He noticed buggy parts hanging on the wall—rearview mirrors, red hazard triangles that were displayed on the backs of all Ohio buggies, packages of gold reflective tape.
“Are you Herr Kline?”
“Ya?” The man looked a little wary.
“I’m Zach Bender. I live down the road, a few houses away. I wanted to see if you needed another worker in your shop.”
The man curled his lips inward, his shaggy beard lifting a little with the motion. He sized Zach up. “I don’t think I do. I’ve got two buwe here to help me out.”
Zach hid his disappointment. It had been worth a shot. “Danki. Thought I’d try anyway. You’ve got a nice shop here. Gut luck with the business.” He turned to walk away.
“Wait.”
Turning, Zach faced him. The man came out from behind the counter and stopped a few feet in front of Zach. “I might be able to use you part-time. Business is picking up and sometimes I’ve got my frau and dochders out here working at night to help keep up. And my two sohns help out, but I can only count on one of them. The other one . . .” He shook his head. “Anyway, I know mei frau would appreciate not having an extra job to do. I can’t use you much, just a couple half days a week and probably a few Saturdays. But if business keeps up, it might turn into more.”
Zach grinned so wide his face started to hurt. “Danki, Herr Kline. I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”
The man smiled back. “I know how it is trying to find work. That’s part of the reason I opened up my own shop. And so far God’s seen fit to bless it.”
They discussed a few more details, then Zach jumped back into his buggy to hurry the rest of the way home. Kline’s words about God blessing his shop, and his mother’s reassurance that God always had a plan, gave Zach a jolt of hope. Maybe God did have something good in mind for him after all.
He arrived in time for supper, and after hanging his hat on a peg in the mudroom, he opened the door to the kitchen. His mother was putting a large plate of gravy-smothered pork chops in the center of the table next to a large bowl of steaming mashed potatoes and a smaller dish of green beans seasoned with chunks of bacon. His mouth watered as his stomach rumbled. Next time he needed to pack more than a peanut butter sandwich and a candy bar. But as eager as he was to eat, he couldn’t wait to let his parents know about the job.
His mother greeted him with a smile when he sat down, but his father bowed his head without saying anything. Zach followed suit, silently giving God thanks for providing the job. When the prayer was over, he passed the pork chops to his father. “I’ve got some news—”
“Did you geh to the schulhaus?” His father stabbed at a large chop with his fork, not looking at Zach.
“Ya. I was there by six. We got a lot done today.”
Daed finally looked at him. “We?”
“Ruth Byler was there. I tried to get her to geh home, but she refused. In a way I don’t blame her. She is the teacher—”
“Is it ready for Saturday?”
“Not quite.” Zach slid a pork chop onto his plate, then passed the dish to his mother. “I have to haul off all the wood and other broken stuff, and there’s some more cleaning up to do. But trust me, it will be ready by Saturday.”
His father served himself a healthy scoopful of mashed potatoes. “It better be.”
Zach wasn’t going to let his father’s foul mood ruin his good one. “As I was saying, I have some other news too.” He glanced at his mother, glad to see her expression relaxed for once. “I got a job.”
“That’s wonderful.” His mother clapped her hands together. “Isn’t that wunderbaar, Gideon?”
“Doing what?” his father asked.
“Working part-time at Kline’s Buggy Shop. The new one down the road. He said he couldn’t give me a lot of hours, but that the business is doing well and hopefully it would become full-time.”
Daed took a bite of pork chop and chewed, not saying anything. Then he turned to Zach. “What do you know about making buggies?”
“Not much, but I’m willing to learn.”
“Let’s hope you don’t burn down his shop.” His father turned his attention back on his food.
“Daed, I was twelve when I lit those newspapers. And I didn’t burn down the shop.”
“You nearly killed my business with your reckless behavior, that’s what you did. Speaking of business.” Daed wiped several drops of gravy from his chin with a white napkin. “I’ve got a new employee starting tomorrow morning.”
Zach dropped his fork. It hit the dish with a clatter. “What?”
“His name’s Johnny Mullet. Finished school last year. He spent the whole summer looking for a job, but couldn’t find one. I told his daed he could work for me.”
“I don’t believe this.” Zach clenched his fists. “You had a job and you hired someone else instead of me?”
“I need someone responsible.”
“And you think Johnny’s more responsible than me.”
“I never said that.”
“But you meant it.” Silence enveloped the kitchen. Zach bit his tongue to keep from lashing out, almost drawing blood. He looked at his mother, who kept her head down, but she hadn’t touched a bite of her food. She would never defy her husband. And until now, Zach had never wanted her to. But he desperately needed someone on his side. When she didn’t look up, he knew she wouldn’t say a word.
His father added a sprinkle of salt to his meal. The room suddenly seemed ten times too small. He had to get out of there. His appetite gone, he stood. “Have to geh check on Maggie.”
Zach kept his composure as he left the house, but once outside, he lost it. He stormed to the barn a few feet behind the house. He’d already fed his horse before coming in for supper, but he grabbed a pitchfork and started throwing clumps of hay into her stall anyway. After a few minutes, he slammed the pitchfork on the ground.
How could his father do this to him? Daed knew Zach needed money to repair the schoolhouse, but he hadn’t said a word about having a job available or hiring anyone. Not until now. Zach barely knew this Mullet kid, and he was sure his father didn’t know him that well either. Yet he trusted him enough to work with him in the shop? Trusted a near stranger more than his own son.
Zach sat down on a hay bale and ran his hand over his dripping face, taking in a deep breath. The barn smelled of horse sweat, old hay, and manure. He had half a mind to forget about being responsible and prove his father right, along with everyone else. Even Ruth didn’t trust him, and she barely knew him. Which didn’t make sense. He’d shown up at the schoolhouse and worked hard, as he’d promised. What did he get in return? Just a snobby attitude. She was even too good to eat lunch with him. Then he got himself a job, like he said he would. And how did his father act? Like he couldn’t care less. Not a pat on the back or a word of encouragement. Just his past failure rubbed in his face over and over again.
Great plan, God.
Chapter 7
Deborah woke to the sight of Will standing by the edge of her bed, his face only inches from hers. Not realizing who he was at first, she sat straight up, her heart pounding. Then her son’s face came into focus. “William Moses Coblentz, don’t do that again. You almost scared me to death.”
Will’s eyes widened and his lower lip started to tremble. “Ma.”
His mewling of her name brought her fully awake, and she picked him up. “It’s okay, sohn.” She hugged him close. Her mother was being buried today. Kissing his cheek, she fought the tears, keeping them from Will. Her heart felt like a rock in her chest. How was she supposed to get through this? Lord, be with me today.
She dressed Will, then sat him on the braided rug in the center of the floor with a toy drum that played music. While she put on her black dress, white kapp, and black stockings, she thought of what Naomi’s reaction to the fancy toy would be. But right now Deborah didn’t care. It was one of Will’s favorite toys, and
she wasn’t about to take it away from him. She scooped him off the floor and carried him downstairs and into the kitchen. Naomi was there, setting out a platter of coffee cake on the table.
“I don’t have time to cook breakfast.” Naomi picked up a carton of orange juice and placed it next to the cake. Also dressed in black, her white apron was cinched tightly around her tiny waist. She looked at Deborah. “I suppose you’ll have to take him to the funeral.”
“There’s no one to watch him.”
“I can watch him.” Sadie came into the kitchen. She took Will from Deborah’s arms and planted a big kiss on his cheek. He giggled. “He’ll be fine with me.”
Deborah looked at her aunt. “Aren’t you going to the funeral?”
Sadie shook her head. “I thought about it, but I should stay here. I can be more useful watching Will and getting things ready here. I’m sure you’ll have lots of company before the service is over.” She glanced at Naomi. “That’s if I’m allowed.”
Naomi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, she nodded and left.
With a sigh, Sadie sat Will in the chair. “I’ll never understand her. Hard to believe you came from the same parents.” Her head shot up. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Deborah swallowed. “It’s all right.” She understood that Sadie hadn’t meant to be insensitive. She also understood how Naomi was feeling. They were the only two who could share the pain of losing their mother. Well, they could if Naomi was willing to. But Deborah didn’t have the will to try and forge a truce, since she knew it wouldn’t work anyway. Today, though, she didn’t want to fight with her sister.
On the way home from the cemetery, Naomi sat in the front of the buggy with their father while Deborah sat in the back. Naomi hadn’t said a word during the service, or when their mother was laid to rest. She also hadn’t shed a tear. But Deborah had cried enough for both of them.
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 56
