by Marta Perry
“No, I just…” He shrugged and stared at the ground.
Ruth folded her arms. “You were playing a mean trick. You know you don’t belong near the girls’ outhouse.”
Irwin’s prominent ears took on the glow of ripe tomatoes as he tried to bury his chin in his faded shirt.
She gently raised his head so that he had to meet her gaze. “You were making mischief again, weren’t you? Just as you did at our house when you let the cows out.”
Irwin sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of a grubby hand.
“Don’t you know that our cows could have become sick from eating the corn? Not to mention the damage to the crops. You know how valuable the animals are. Why would you do such a thing?” He shrugged.
Ruth took a deep breath. Dealing with this child was frustrating. She forced her tone to copy her mother’s, authoritarian but soft. “Mam has invited you to Sunday dinner. You will be there. Understand?” Irwin nodded.
“And no more tricks. Not at the school nor at our farm. Or else.”
“I won’t, I promise,” a man’s voice said.
Ruth turned around to find a grinning Eli standing behind her. As she turned, Irwin made his escape. He dove under the fence rail and plunged down the path that led through the grove.
“You’re no help,” Ruth admonished Eli. She told him about the snake in the girls’ outhouse.
Eli laughed. “And Irwin pleaded innocent, did he?”
“‘Snake, what snake?’” She snickered. “He’s impossible. You never know what he’ll do next.”
“Boys will be boys,” he offered, palms up as if that explained it.
“Miriam thinks Irwin deliberately let our cows out. That’s why she yelled at him and sent him home instead of asking him to help round them up.”
Eli regarded her, his blue eyes thoughtful. “Roman thinks the kid might need more help than his cousins can give.” He shook his head. “Norman and Lydia already have a full plate with their own children.”
“But they’re all Irwin has,” Ruth said. “His parents and sister died in the fire. Where else would he go?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been wondering the same thing.” He motioned toward the school. “Wanna come inside and see what we got done today? Back at the shop, Roman and I are working on some built-in cabinets.”
She looked up at him, thinking again how tall he was and how sure he sounded of himself when he talked about his skills at building. “They sound nice,” she said lamely, debating whether she wanted to inspect the progress. Out here she could breathe, but for some reason, going inside with him didn’t seem like all that good an idea.
Miriam came out of the school and waved. “Eli!”
Ruth took a step back, feeling as if a bubble around her and Eli had burst. It had been so nice, just talking, but the moment had passed, and she felt awkward with him again.
Glancing at Miriam, who was practically running to Eli, Ruth wondered if her sister expected her to leave the two of them alone, or should she pretend that she knew nothing about their mutual attraction?
“Mam wants us to go to the chair shop and make a phone call.” Miriam reached in her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “We need to make a dentist appointment for Susanna.” She smiled at Eli. “Roman said you wouldn’t mind driving us down in his buggy.”
“Ne,” Eli said. “I’ll be glad to.”
Miriam looked back to Ruth. “Mam wants us to call before the office closes for the afternoon.”
Their church didn’t allow phones in their homes, but because Roman did business with the English, the bishop had permitted him to have one installed in a small lean-to shed at the side of the chair shop. Any member of the community was free to make calls when they needed to.
Feeling like a third wheel, Ruth looked from one to the other. “No need for me to come,” she offered. “I can just—”
Miriam shook her head. “Mam said both of us. I have the number.”
“I’ll go, but you’re going to have to make the appointment,” Ruth insisted. “You have to learn to do it sometime.”
“All right,” Miriam agreed. “And afterward, we can walk home.”
“No trouble to drive you home,” Eli insisted.
“Samuel says the board has approved our pie auction at the picnic,” Miriam said as Eli went to get the buggy.
“Good.” Ruth studied her sister. Miriam’s cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkling, but she hadn’t so much as glanced at Eli as he walked away. Was she trying to hide her feelings for him, or was she just excited about the school frolic?
“I’m going to make a cherry pie with a lattice-top crust.” Miriam chatted as they walked toward the wagon. “Have you decided what kind you’ll make?”
Ruth groaned. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. The last time she’d attempted an apple-cranberry pie, her crust was tough and the apples in the center only half baked. “I don’t really want to go. Maybe I won’t even make—”
“Mam promised that we would all make one.” Miriam smiled. “Even Susanna.”
Ruth rolled her eyes, and they both giggled.
Eli returned with the horse and buggy and halted the animal so that they could climb in. Miriam scrambled up first, next to Eli. Luckily, the front seat was roomy enough for all three of them.
Roman’s horse was a showy dapple-gray, and once they were on the road, Eli passed the leathers to Miriam. Laughing, she urged the horse into a trot. Ruth braced her feet against the boards and enjoyed the feel of the warm breeze against her face.
“Do you like music?” Eli asked.
“I do,” Miriam said.
To Ruth’s surprise, he reached under the seat and came up with a small boom box that played CDs. He pushed a button and Garth Brooks filled the air, singing a fast song about a rodeo rider and a thunderstorm. It was on the tip of Ruth’s tongue to remind Eli that the music wasn’t Plain and that Mam wouldn’t approve, but she knew that Garth Brooks was one of Miriam’s favorites. She had to admit that she liked country tunes herself. Just this once, she thought. What harm could it do?
By the time the story-song had ended and another singer, a girl, began a tune about an Appaloosa horse, the three of them were having fun laughing and tapping their feet to the music as they arrived at the chair shop all too soon. Eli clicked off the machine and tucked it back into his hiding spot as Miriam turned the gelding into the parking lot.
The main structure was about forty feet long, made of concrete block, the front faced with yellow siding. There was a big yard and storage sheds behind the chair shop. Beyond, down a short lane, stood a neat story-and-a-half house where Roman and Fannie lived with their children. Eli’s aunt was in the side yard taking clothes off the line. They waved, and she waved back.
Stopping at the chair shop always made Ruth a little sad because it made her think of Dat and the times she’d come to watch him at work here when she was small. But it made her feel good, too, because rent from the building and house made it possible for Mam to provide for her family.
There were three windows along the front of the shop, all with white curtains. The Dutch door in the center was painted blue. On the wide porch two rocking chairs were displayed as examples of the furniture that Roman and Eli made.
Eli jumped out and helped Miriam down. As Ruth scooted over to climb down from the buggy, Eli looked up at her. “If you come inside, I’ll show you the cabinets we’re making for the school.”
Ruth bit down on her lower lip, glanced at Miriam, then back at Eli again. “I should go help Miriam…in case they have any questions at the dentist’s office.”
“It’s okay. You go,” Miriam called, turning to go. “I’ll be fine.”
“She’ll be fine,” Eli repeated. His expression was bold, almost amused as he met Ruth’s gaze.
“All right,” Ruth said hesitantly. “I’d like to see them.”
He looped the leathers over the hitching rack and returned to offer his h
and as she climbed down. Tingles ran up her arm as his strong fingers closed around hers. Confused, and a little excited, Ruth’s heart beat faster as she followed Eli up onto the porch and into the shop. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him in a way that she’d never been to any other boy.
She should have turned then and gone back to the buggy, but she didn’t want to. She wanted Eli to smile at her…wanted him to forget her sister and think only of her.
Roman’s oldest son, Tyler, was at the corner desk in the showroom-office, poring over a math book. He grinned up at them and then sighed and applied his pencil to the yellow answer sheet with dogged determination. Eli nodded to him and led Ruth down a hall and into the workshop.
Instantly, she was enveloped in the smells of fresh sawdust, paint stripper, varnish, stain and wax. Racks of tools hung on the wall to her left, and on a wide workbench lay an unfinished, ladder-back chair. In the center of the room stood the carved headboard of an old bed in the process of painstaking restoration.
“These are for the school,” Eli said, walking around the headboard to show her a length of cabinets that stood in the far corner. Ruth saw at once that these were not finished in veneer, but fashioned of thick pine boards with sturdy hinges. If there were no more fires, water or insect damage, the cabinets should serve the children well for decades.
Ruth followed him over and stroked a smooth door. “You didn’t use plywood.”
Eli grinned. “Ne. Reuben made a gift of the boards. He said they’d been drying in his grain shed for twenty years just waiting to be put to a good use. The hinges are ones we salvaged from an English job. They were just going to throw them away, so I asked if we could have them.”
“Foolish, throwing them away,” Ruth agreed. She fingered the nearest hinge. “But it must have been hard work to clean them.”
Eli shrugged his broad shoulders. “A little elbow grease and some strong paint remover. Tyler helped.”
“Mam will be so pleased.” She opened a door and then closed it. “The doors fit perfectly. They don’t even squeak,” she teased.
“Of course they don’t squeak.” He laughed. “I’ve something else to show you. It’s out back.”
Ruth glanced in the direction of the front of the shop. “I should probably see how Miriam is—”
“Miriam will be fine,” Eli insisted. “It’s just a phone call. Come on. You’ll like this even better than the schoolhouse cabinets.”
Curious, Ruth followed him out of the shop across the yard and into a small shed beyond. Here, too, was a workbench and a tool chest. On the bench stood an unfinished chest with a gently rounded top. The piece was fashioned of cherry, about three feet long and no more than twenty-four inches high with bracket feet and a shiny brass lock. But it was the decoration that stunned her. Carved into the front was a strawberry plant, bursting with berries and two little birds, replicas so lifelike that she half expected them to pluck a strawberry and fly away.
“Oh,” she gasped, unable to resist running her fingertips over the design. “Eli, you did this?”
His eyes lit with pleasure. “Do you like the wrens?”
She had known they were wrens. The bright eyes, the perky tails, the boldness, they could only be Carolina Wrens. “Ya, I do.” She hesitated. “Is this for an English customer?”
“Ne. For an Amish.”
She nibbled at her lower lip. “It is beautiful, ya, but I think not Plain.”
“My hands form what I see in my mind.”
“But we Plain people are not of this world but the one to come.”
He nodded. “If God gave me this dream, this skill, maybe He wants me to make use of it.”
Ruth shivered, despite the warmth of the shed. “You must guard against the sin of pride, Eli,” she chastised, unable to meet his gaze. “You are not so Plain as other men.”
“As Mahlon?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm as she looked at him and then away again. The chest was the most beautiful thing she thought she had ever seen, so beautiful that it made a lump in her throat. “He is a sensible…”
Eli chuckled. “You are very serious for such a pretty girl, Ruth. You accuse me of Hochmut, but you seem full of pride, as well.”
“Me?” Her eyes widened in surprise. This time, she didn’t look away from him. “How do I show false pride?”
He shrugged. “Think about it. Doesn’t it give you satisfaction that you work so hard to take care of your mother and your sisters? That you’ve decided to sacrifice your own life to remain on the farm and—”
“Who told you…” She swallowed in an attempt to ease the knot in her throat. She knew who’d been talking about her. Miriam. Again. “You don’t understand, Eli. Someone has to—”
“I may not attend church as I should, but I spent my childhood listening to God’s word. And one of the sermons I remember my grandfather giving was about martyrs. He said that only the Lord chooses martyrs. Make certain that you really know what God wants of you before you decide on a path, Ruth.”
Moisture blurred her vision. Was Eli right? She backed away from him, uncertain as to what to say…to think.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step toward her, reaching out with one hand. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Ruth!” Miriam came around the corner of the building. “There you are. I got the appointment.”
Eli met Ruth’s gaze again as he lowered his hand to his side. Miriam looked at one and then the other.
“Come on,” Eli said, walking past Ruth and out of the shed. “Let me drive you both home.”
“Ne.” Ruth’s voice sounded strange in her ears. “We will walk. We can cut across the pasture.”
Miriam and Eli exchanged glances. Miriam chuckled. “So we walk. I’ll see you on Sunday, Eli. At dinner?”
“Ya,” he answered, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his pants. “I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter Eight
At noon on Sunday, Ruth watched as Anna welcomed Fannie Byler into the kitchen. Dinner wasn’t until one o’clock, but Fannie was Mam’s dearest friend, and she’d come early to chat before the meal. Roman, Eli and the children were expected later. “Come in, come in,” Anna urged, waving a wooden spoon.
Fannie’s wide-brimmed black bonnet framed a plump rosy face with bright blue eyes, a snub nose and a wide smile. “I brought a lemon sponge cake,” she said, after they’d all exchanged hugs.
“Wonderful,” Mam said. “Anna made pies this morning. And Ruth’s just finishing the coleslaw.”
Anna placed Fannie’s basket on the counter, and Susanna took her bonnet and cape.
“Irwin is coming,” Susanna bubbled. “I think he eats a lot. He’s a bad boy at school, but Mam told him he had to behave.”
“Irwin’s coming?” Fannie rolled her eyes.
“Mam often invites her pupils,” Ruth explained, with a meaningful glance in Susanna’s direction.
Mam put a finger to her lips, and Fannie nodded, catching on.
“Not likely anyone would go hungry at your table, Mam,” Anna said, attempting to distract Susanna from sharing Irwin’s shortcomings.
“Ne.” Susanna turned to Fannie. “I carried pickled beets and applesauce up from the cellar.”
Fannie fanned herself, dropped into a rocking chair and gazed with admiration at the kitchen table. Ruth poured coffee for the older women and then returned her attention to the coleslaw.
“Goodness, I’ll be glad when my Clara and Alice are a little older,” Fannie said, not in the least put out that Mam had cut off her question about Irwin. “These girls of yours are a marvel.” She poured a dollop of thick cream into her coffee and stirred in three spoons of honey.
It was always nice to have Fannie and her family at the dinner table. If Ruth could only be as pleased with their other dinner guests. She knew it wasn’t her place to question who her mother invited to Sunday dinner, but she didn’t trust Irwin, and Eli…
; She didn’t know where in her head to begin with Eli or what to do with all the emotions he stirred up. He troubled her, with those rumors of his reputation. He just looked like trouble. And gossip or not, there had to be some truth to what Alma had said about him, didn’t there? Alma wouldn’t just make up such a terrible story, not even about a stranger. And it wasn’t just the gossip that made Ruth uncomfortable. There was something more about Eli. It was the way he had made her uncertain about the life decisions she’d made. And then there was the matter of Miriam. She couldn’t deny that Eli was exciting, but at the same time, she was afraid that her sister was becoming too attached to him.
Abruptly, she yawned and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Thinking about that beautiful chest with the carved birds and the fear that Eli had made it for Miriam had kept her awake until after midnight last night. By the light of day, Ruth knew the idea was preposterous, but silly notions did that to you at night sometimes; they made you totally illogical.
“Roofie?” Susanna was standing beside her, a sugar bowl in her hand. “Can I put the sugar in now?”
“Just a minute.” Ruth began to stir mayonnaise and lemon juice into the grated slaw. “Now,” she said to Susanna.
Susanna carefully carried the sugar bowl back to the table. Watching her, Ruth couldn’t help but smile. Susanna was such a sweet soul. Dat had been right. She was a blessing to their family. Eli didn’t understand why Ruth had made the decisions she had. God had trusted her family with Susanna, and it was only right that Ruth be here to care for her. It was selfish to consider anything else. Some day, Mam would grow old, and they both would need strong hands to support them.
“It was good of you to ask Eli to dinner,” Fannie was saying to Mam. “He’s a good boy, no matter what some people say. I’m hoping that if families like yours welcome him, others will.”
Mam glanced at Anna. “Could you help Susanna find a clean Kapp and apron?”
Since it was just the family this morning, her sisters had covered their freshly washed hair with kerchiefs, but would need Kapps before male company arrived. “I can do it,” Ruth offered. “I’m ready, and I finished the slaw.”
