Their daed turned the buggy down their drive, and Deborah noticed several buggies already outside their house. As soon as they parked in the barn, Naomi got out and hurried to the house.
Deborah expected her father to get out too, but he remained, staring down at his lap. Alarmed, she moved to sit beside him, placing her hand on his arm. “Daed?”
His black hat was pulled low on his head, enough so that she could only see half his face. “I’m all right, Deborah. I just need a few moments alone. Geh check on Will. I’ll be along shortly.”
She hesitated, unsure what to do. Then her father looked at her, his eyes clear but still filled with grief. “All right. I’ll see you inside.”
Deborah started for the house but stopped just short of the front porch. A sudden attack of nerves hit her. The same people inside the house had been at the funeral, but she was so focused on her father and consumed with grief at the sight of her mother being buried that she hadn’t paid much attention to them. But now she had to face everyone, something she hadn’t done since she’d gotten pregnant and left Middlefield. The Amish weren’t a judgmental people, but knowing that didn’t make her less nervous. She wasn’t worried for herself as much as she was for Will. She couldn’t take it if anyone rejected her child, no matter the circumstances of his birth.
“Deborah!”
She looked up to see a young, blonde-haired woman dash out the front door. Her nerves quieted and she grinned. “Elisabeth!”
Elisabeth Detweiler held out her arms and ran to her, enveloping her in a big hug. “I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly at the funeral.” She took a step back, her arms still around Deborah’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry about your mudder.”
Deborah’s grin faded. “Danki. Oh, Elisabeth, I’m so glad you’re here.” Tears burned in her eyes.
Elisabeth nodded. “I’ve missed you, mei freind.”
“Me too.” Deborah didn’t realize how much until now. Elisabeth was the best friend she’d ever had. She remembered the time she had invited her to a party at the Yoders’ barn. Elisabeth hadn’t wanted to go, but Deborah had badgered her into it. At the time she had thought she was cool. She had been running around with some wild Yankee kids, and several Amish kids who were into partying. At the party, she had gotten drunk and had no idea how Elisabeth got home. During those months, she’d been a terrible friend to Elisabeth, even refusing to speak to her for a while.
Then when she became pregnant with Will, the only person she could turn to was Elisabeth, and Elisabeth had been a supportive and faithful friend. They had been close ever since.
“I saw your Will inside.” Elisabeth smiled. “He’s adorable. Looks just like his mami.” She winked.
Deborah had always thought he looked more like Chase, but she liked hearing the compliment. “Was he still with Aenti Sadie?”
“Ya. She’s holding on to him tight.” Elisabeth linked her arm through Deborah’s. “Let’s geh inside. Mami and Moriah are helping Naomi in the kitchen.”
They went inside. People were milling throughout the house, talking and eating. There were even a few bursts of quiet laughter, and for that, Deborah was grateful. Her mother would have wanted her family and friends to celebrate her memory.
Elisabeth released her arm. “Do you want something to eat or drink? I’ll be happy to get it for you.”
Deborah shook her head. “That’s all right. I should geh help Naomi.”
“Don’t worry about that. Mami and Moriah have everything running smoothly. They tried to get your sister out of the kitchen so she could visit with everyone, but she refused.” Elisabeth paused. “Have you had anything to eat today?”
“I’m really not hungry—”
“Deborah, you have to eat something. It’s late afternoon. You don’t want to get sick.” When Deborah started to protest, she held up her hand. “I’ll be right back. You can at least eat a cookie. And don’t worry. I didn’t make them; Mami did.” Elisabeth took off before Deborah could say anything else.
Still standing near the front door, she searched the living room for her aunt and Will. She saw both of them across the room, Will sitting in Sadie’s lap, his finger in his mouth and an expression of wonder on his small face as he stared at all the strangers. She walked toward them, only to bump into a tall Amish man.
“Sorry.” He looked down at her. “I should have watched where I was going.”
“Nee, it was my fault.” She stared up at him in sudden recognition. “Hello, Stephen.” She didn’t know Elisabeth’s younger brother very well, only from passing conversations when visiting the Byler house a few times over the years. He was two years younger than she and Elisabeth, and she’d never paid too much attention to him. It was hard not to pay attention to him now. He seemed to have grown six inches since the last time she’d seen him. She’d never been good at estimating things, but she figured he had to be at least a foot taller than she was, with broad shoulders and a lean frame. Deborah shifted her gaze to his face. His eyes were a similar blue color to Elisabeth’s. But that’s where their similarities seemed to end. His hair was a darker blond, nearly light brown, which matched his thick brows. He had a long face, but it suited his large frame.
“I’m sorry about your mother.”
He had the deepest voice she’d ever heard, a rich, strong tone. “Danki. And danki for stopping by.”
Elisabeth showed up, holding Will in her arms. “I didn’t get a chance to get the cookies, but I thought you’d like this better.”
Will held out his arms to her. Deborah took him and kissed his cheek.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Stephen stepped to the side. “It’s getting a little crowded in here. Think I’ll step outside for a minute.”
Deborah watched him go, still amazed by his size. “It was nice of him to stop by after the funeral.”
“I know he wanted to pay his respects,” Elisabeth said. “And he’s right; it is too crowded in here. We should geh on the porch. It’ll be easier to talk there.”
As they threaded their way through the crowd, Deborah paused to accept everyone’s condolences. When they made their way out to the porch, they sat down on the chairs, and Deborah settled Will on her lap. She looked at her friend. “So tell me about married life.” When Elisabeth didn’t answer right away, she added, “It’s okay. I’m happy for you and Aaron. I’m glad you found each other. I wish I would have been able to come to the wedding. It was too close to my due date.”
“I understand.” Elisabeth smiled, her lovely blue eyes twinkling with happiness. “Married life is wonderful. I’ve never been so content. And Aaron has the patience of Job himself. He eats the terrible suppers I make without complaint. All he says is ‘You’re improving.’”
Deborah laughed. “And are you?”
“Nee. Not at all. But he’s sweet to want me to think that.”
Deborah smiled. Talking to Elisabeth helped her forget about her grief for a moment. “Maybe you need some cooking lessons.”
“Mami’s tried.” Elisabeth let out a dramatic sigh. “Unlike Aaron, she doesn’t have infinite patience. Oh well, he isn’t going hungry. That’s all that matters.”
Elisabeth’s words made her think about Thomas. He had to have some patience, too, considering he’d waited so long to get married. But she didn’t know the reasons he had waited, except that he wasn’t concerned about marrying someone he loved.
Maybe her aunt was right. She should forget about Thomas and wait on love. She saw the way Elisabeth’s eyes shone with love as she talked about Aaron, and deep down she wanted that kind of devotion for herself. But one thing made her hang on to the idea of marrying Thomas. He had already accepted Will and would be a father to him. She couldn’t be sure anyone else would be willing to do that.
Elisabeth reached out and touched Deborah’s hand. “We shouldn’t be talking about me. How are you doing? This has to be so hard on you.”
Deborah nodded. “I miss her very much.” She touche
d Will’s head, running her fingers over his baby-fine, dark brown locks, which had started to curl at the ends. “I regret she didn’t spend much time with Will. I should have come back as soon as he was born.”
“Why didn’t you?” Elisabeth’s eyes widened. “Is that terribly nosy of me?”
“Nee, it’s okay.”
“It’s just that I always wondered. I knew why you left, especially after how Chase reacted. He was awful.”
“I didn’t leave just because of Chase. I left because I was scared. And embarrassed. After Will was born, it was just easier to stay in Paradise. I didn’t have to worry about anyone judging me or my sohn.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “But my selfish fear kept my mami from knowing her first grosskinn.”
“You didn’t know this would happen. You did what you had to do.”
Deborah shifted Will in her arms, noticing he had fallen asleep. She hadn’t been able to get him on a schedule yet. He would probably be up late tonight, but she didn’t want to disturb him. “I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I wish they would have told me she was sick.”
“I can’t believe Naomi didn’t tell you,” Elisabeth said. “If I had known, I would have written you right away. I just assumed she or your daed had let you know.”
She looked at Elisabeth, shaking her head. “Nee. They didn’t. Although I can understand why Daed didn’t; he’s not much for writing letters. But Naomi . . .” Deborah touched her bottom lip, fighting to contain her sorrow. “Mami had cancer for months, Elisabeth. I could have come back here and helped take care of her.” She sighed. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”
“We all make mistakes, Deborah.”
“But not like this.”
Elisabeth’s eyes widened even more. “You regret having Will?”
“Nee. He’s my life.”
“I can see that.” Elisabeth’s tone softened. “I can also see you’re a good mudder.”
“I’m trying to be. I can’t imagine being without him. I don’t want to imagine it. But I wish the circumstances were different. He’ll grow up without knowing his daed. I don’t think that’s right.”
Elisabeth frowned. “But that’s not your fault. You went to Chase and told him about the boppli. He chose not to be part of Will’s life, and to be honest, I think you’re both better for it. He’s not a gut person, Deborah.”
She looked up. “Have you seen him since I left?”
“Don’t tell me you want to see him again.”
“Nee. I don’t. At least not for my sake. But if he met Will and saw how wonderful he is, maybe things would be different.”
“But would they be better? He’s not Amish and won’t be. Even if you were to get together, you’d have to leave the Amish to do so. Would it be worth it?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “At one time I thought it would. But I’m happy being Amish. I want to raise my sohn Amish, with a family that cares for him. I would have never married Chase.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. And to answer your question, I haven’t seen him since the last day you spoke to him, right before you left. I don’t even think he’s working at Mary Yoder’s anymore. He could have left Middlefield as far as I know.”
“Then there’s no reason to think about him again.” She said the words, but she knew how difficult it was to try to forget about him. A light summer breeze kicked up, caressing the back of her neck as she stared at the top of Will’s head.
“I see Stephen has found your daed,” Elisabeth said.
Deborah looked up to see Stephen and her father outside. Her father had gotten out of the buggy, but still hadn’t gone in the house and instead lingered near the barn as Stephen approached him. Obviously Daed was avoiding facing everyone, but he didn’t seem to mind Stephen’s company. “Stephen has really changed while I was gone. I don’t remember him being that tall.”
“He probably wasn’t that tall last time you saw him. He had a huge growth spurt last year, right before he turned nineteen. He even towers over Tobias, and Tobias is taller than all of us. Tobias isn’t real happy about that, let me tell you. He doesn’t like looking up to his little bruder.”
For the first time that day Deborah smiled. “Is Stephen a carpenter too?”
“Ya. All my bruders are in the family business. And Aaron’s still working at Gabriel’s blacksmith shop. He really enjoys smithing, although he likes shoeing the horses best.” Elisabeth tapped her finger against her chin, her blue eyes widening. “Oh, and I guess you didn’t know, but I have a new nephew.”
“Really? Which one of your siblings had a boppli?”
“None of them.” A cheeky grin appeared.
“No one had a boppli, but you have a nephew?”
“Uh huh. Lukas and Anna adopted a bu about a year and a half ago. He’s sixteen now. His name is Sawyer. He’s a Yankee too. Well, not anymore.”
“He’s Amish now?”
“He hasn’t joined the church, but he’s really taken to the Amish ways. Do you know Daniel Mullet and his family?” When Deborah shook her head, Elisabeth said, “They live near an abandoned barn that was destroyed in a fire a while back. But the barn was still standing, and Sawyer was living in it.”
“He was living in an Amish barn? Why?”
“He ran away from his foster family. It’s a long story, but Mary Beth Mullet and her brother Johnny found him and hid him for a while. Eventually he had to geh back to the group home, but then Lukas and Anna decided to foster him for a while. After a few months they ended up adopting him. It’s like he’s been a part of the family all along. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him soon. Lukas will be hosting church in a few weeks. I’d love if you and your family would stay for lunch afterward.”
“I’d like that.” Her emotions began to overwhelm her. “Elisabeth,” she said, trying to keep her voice from catching. It didn’t work. “You’re such a gut freind, more than I deserve. You’ve always been there for me. Even when I was awful to you.”
Elisabeth looked surprised. “You were never awful to me.”
“I was at the Yoder’s party. I should have never talked you into going . . . I shouldn’t have gone either.”
“Deborah, that’s all in the past.”
“Sometimes the past won’t leave us alone.”
Elisabeth reached for Deborah’s hand. “And sometimes, mei freind, we have to stop paying so much attention to it.”
“Nice pasture.” Stephen looked out at the huge field before him, breathing in the scent of sweet timothy grass mixed with hay from the bales stacked nearby. Several yards away, brown and black cows, with noses to the ground, ate their fill. He turned to Moses, who stood beside him. “How many head of cattle do you have here?”
“About thirty. We’re down in numbers right now. It’s been a rough year.” The old man’s face sobered. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but danki for helping with Martha’s grave.”
“It was my honor.” Stephen’s father had asked him to help dig the grave this morning. It was a sobering task, one he didn’t enjoy at all. But he could shovel faster and remove more dirt than most of the other men who had assisted. He saw the sorrow in Moses’ eyes. He imagined the pain of losing a spouse had to be unbearable, and he didn’t know what to say. Instead he stared out at the pasture again, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black pants.
Finally Moses spoke. “It’s been getting too much lately.” He looked up at Stephen, his head tilted far back. “The farm, I mean. Over the years I’ve had a few freinds help me when they could, and of course, mei dochders and Martha . . .” He gulped and looked away. “They did their share. Then Deborah left and Martha got sick. I just kind of let things geh after that. I’ve had to rely on Naomi for a lot of things,” Moses said. “But I can see it’s getting to her too.”
Stephen didn’t know Deborah very well, only through her friendship with Elisabeth. Even so, he, like everyone else in the community, knew
why she had left Middlefield. He had to say that her son was a good-looking boy. Stephen had always had a soft spot for kids, and he enjoyed spending time with his nieces and nephews. More than once he’d been called on to babysit and had agreed without hesitation, even though some of his friends thought watching children was women’s work. Not that it mattered to him what they thought. He was never one to let other people’s opinions bother him.
“How many animals do you have besides the cows?” Stephen asked.
“A few chickens, couple goats, three pigs. Nothing like I had a couple years ago. It’s impossible to keep up with it all.”
Stephen frowned. Moses owned a great piece of land, and it was plain to him that his farm had been successful at one time. But now everything seemed to be in need of repair or refurbishing, from the barn to the chicken coop. The crops were almost taken over by weeds, and the corn in the field was shorter than it should be by this time. The farm mirrored its owner’s sorrow. The only thing that seemed to be in good shape was the vegetable garden in the backyard.
The sound of cows lowing filtered through the air. “I should probably check on their feed,” Moses said. “They eat pretty gut during the day, but when they come in tonight they’ll want some grain.”
“Mind if I come with you?”
“Suit yourself.” Moses lumbered to the barn.
Stephen followed. He suspected the cows had plenty of feed. Moses was probably using this as an excuse to get out of going inside. Not that Stephen could blame him. The modest-size farmhouse was teeming with people. He’d rather be out here too.
When they entered the barn, he saw that the cows’ feed ring was full. The few cows who had stayed inside to avoid the heat stood up and walked over, stopping at the metal fence that kept them penned up in the majority of the barn, their tails slapping at the flies buzzing around them. Slowly they chewed their cud.
Moses looked the cows over and nodded. He held out his hand to one of the larger brown ones. Her tongue flicked out and licked his palm. “My schwester says I should hire someone to help out part-time, but I don’t know.”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 57
