by Marta Perry
Apparently the room she’d been in was the largest one. His, maybe? If so, Nate shouldn’t have given up his room to her.
Mingled aromas testifying to cooking and baking drew her to the kitchen, along with the chatter of female voices. Dora and her two daughters bustled about, using what seemed to be every available pot and pan, while Donna’s young children played with blocks in a corner out of the way.
“Here’s Susanna,” Donna said.
Rachel, her younger sister, smiled at Susanna. “Did we wake you with all our noise?”
“Ach, I’m certain-sure you should have slept longer.” Dora came to give her a quick hug. “How do you feel?”
“Fine, I’m fine.” It seemed to Susanna that she’d been saying that often lately. “What’s happening? It looks as if you’re planning to feed the whole town.”
“Not quite that,” Dora said, “but it comes close. With the electricity off and the stores closed, there’ll be plenty of hungry mouths to feed.”
“Since we don’t rely on electric like the Englisch, we’ll fix what we can here.” Donna set a steaming bowl of vegetable soup on the table and gestured Susanna to a chair.
“I can help—” she began, but Dora pushed her gently to a seat.
“Eat first,” she said. “Then you’ll have the strength to cope with whatever comes next.”
Rachel bent to take two shoofly pies from the oven, the heat bringing a flush to her cheerful round face. “You’ll have a wedge of this once it cools,” she said. “It will fill up the empty corners.”
Donna sniffed with mock disapproval. “Dry-bottom shoofly pie. Whoever heard of the like in this house?”
“My Stephen likes it this way,” Rachel said. She was married less than a year, and obviously taking pleasure in making the pie the way her husband preferred. “You’re just jealous.”
“What do I have to be jealous about?” Donna snapped a tea towel at her sister. “I use Mamm’s recipe.”
“Girls, stop your chatter and let Susanna eat in peace.” Dora smiled fondly at her daughters, obviously knowing that all their fratching was done in fun.
A spoonful of the hot soup seemed to warm Susanna all the way down. “What’s the news? Have you heard anything?”
The women were suddenly so quiet that the sound of the toy blocks was like a clap of thunder. Dora sat at the table, her face tightening.
“Nate went to check on things an hour ago. He says the creek is going down, so that’s gut. But it’s an awful mess with water still in the street, and the police aren’t letting anyone go closer. They say it’s too dangerous.”
“But surely, if we could just get a look—”
Dora shook her head. “I know. I feel that way, as well. It’s worse for you because your apartment is there, too. But we’ll have to be patient until it is safe to go in, like everyone else.”
Dora’s words were a reminder. Susanna wasn’t the only one at risk of losing much. She nodded, feeling a little ashamed of her single-mindedness.
“How bad is the river?”
“They’re saying it will crest tonight.” Donna glanced at her children, as if to assure herself that they didn’t hear or understand. “A record high, so they say.”
“The electric is out, and the water plant is flooded so the pipes are shut down.” Rachel’s brown eyes were solemn. “It’s just lucky for us Nate thought ahead and filled plenty of jugs with water.”
Something in her voice reminded Susanna that Nate had been as much a father as a big brother to his two younger sisters. Much as she disagreed with Nate at times, Susanna had to admire his dedication to his family.
“Nate says we can’t expect anyone to get into town to help until tomorrow, at least,” Rachel went on, shivering a little. “I used to read stories like that, about people stranded on a desert island and the like, and think it sounded as if it would be fun. But the real thing isn’t fun at all.”
“Ja, there are plenty of folks who need help now and will in the days to come.” Dora rose. “We must accept what happens as God’s will, and do what we can for others.”
Every word Dora said was true, but Susanna couldn’t help thinking it was very hard to accept what was happening as God’s will.
The shop was all she had left now. Surely God wouldn’t let that be taken away from her.
* * *
Chloe
had insisted on helping clean up after the huge lunch Emily Hartman had served when they’d awakened. At the moment she was putting plates into the glass-fronted dish cabinet that took up half of one wall in the kitchen and covertly watching Seth dry the last few cups.
The T-shirt Emily had found for him to wear while she washed his clothes stretched across his broad shoulders, and a strand of wheat-colored hair fell onto his forehead. He looked up, caught Chloe’s gaze, and smiled.
Her heart lurched. After what they’d been through together, she was finding Seth very nearly irresistible. She longed to let go of everything that urged caution. What would happen if she did? Warmth seemed to spread through her.
“Feeling better now?” he asked.
Maybe it was best he not know what she was really feeling. “There’s nothing like hot water and a hot meal to get a person feeling human again, is there? How is that working, anyway? I thought the power was off.”
“It is.” Seth hung the dish towel neatly on the dish rack. “Dave has a generator big enough to power the whole house, and he has a well. He says he can’t be in charge of emergency services unless he’s prepared for emergencies himself.”
“Makes me feel a little guilty, being warm and clean when so many aren’t either.” She set the last dish in the cabinet and closed the door.
“We’ll be better able to help others if we feel better ourselves,” Seth said, sounding practical. “By the way, I spoke to my mother just before you came down. She had a message from Lydia, saying they’ll be here to help as soon as the bridge is open again.”
At some level, Chloe had known that Lydia wouldn’t be able to stay away, but it still cheered her to think of seeing her sister. “How is it in Pleasant Valley? Did they get any flooding?”
“Some basement flooding from the creek, that’s all. My mother said they’ve been able to get most houses and stores pumped out today.”
Seth carried the cups over and reached above her head to put them in the cabinet where they belonged. Chloe discovered she was holding her breath at his sudden nearness.
She cleared her throat. “Your mother and Jessie are all right, though?”
“They’re okay.”
Something in his voice told her that wasn’t entirely true. She put her hand on his wrist. “Something’s bothering you. What is it? Your mother didn’t fall, did she?” That was one of his recurrent worries, she knew—that his mother would try to do too much and end up with another broken hip.
He shook his head, his lips twisting slightly. “It’s Jessie. She’s determined to come with the work crew to help, and Mamm’s just as determined to keep her home. They both want me to side with them.”
It reminded Chloe uncomfortably of her relationship with her grandmother. “Is there any real reason why Jessie couldn’t help? I mean, physically she’s fine, isn’t she?”
He nodded slowly. “I suppose so. Mamm worries, though. Jessie has what the doctors tactfully call ‘impulse control’ issues. If she should fly off the handle . . .”
Chloe struggled with her own impulses. Technically it wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t help caring, and she was an old pro at reacting to overprotectiveness. Seth’s mother was gentle and loving, but it sometimes seemed to Chloe that her hovering irked Jessie beyond all bearing.
“Maybe one of us could keep an eye on her if she came to help,” she said finally. “Or Lydia could. Would that reassure your mother?”
“It mi
ght.” His hands, braced against the marble countertop, were so taut the muscles stood out like cords. “I spent ten years ignoring my family.” His voice was harsh. “I’m still paying for that neglect. If I make the wrong decision, about this or anything else—”
“You won’t,” Chloe said quickly, hoping that was what he needed to hear. “As long as you’re acting out of love, I don’t think you can go wrong. And in the end, isn’t it up to Jessie? She’s old enough to make her own decisions.” And learn from her mistakes, the way Chloe had to.
Seth gave a short nod and pushed himself away from the counter. She recognized the signs. He’d let her glimpse his inner tumult, and now he was backing off.
“Speaking of family, have you called your grandmother? She’s probably worried. I’m sure the flooding is all over the network news.”
“I haven’t yet. As a matter of fact, I think my cell phone may be at the bottom of the creek. Or floating its way down the river.” She’d discovered it missing sometime in the night, but the loss was minor compared to everything else that was washing away.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Seth handed it to her. “Use mine.” His lips tilted in an ironic smile. “I wouldn’t want you to miss a scolding for your negligence.”
True enough, Chloe thought as she punched in the familiar number.
The call was answered on the first ring by her grandmother, not the housekeeper, probably a measure of how worried her grandmother was. “Hello? Who is this?” Gran’s voice was sharp.
“It’s me, Gran. Chloe. I had to borrow a phone, that’s why the number is unfamiliar. I called to let you know I’m all right.”
“Why didn’t you call earlier? Surely you knew I’d be concerned. It’s only common courtesy to let people know what’s happening—”
“Gran, I’m sorry,” Chloe interrupted, hearing the genuine fear beneath the scolding. “I had to leave my house because of the flooding, and I lost my cell phone.” Probably best not to say what she’d been doing at the time. “I’m okay, honestly. I’m dry and fed and I’ve had a couple of hours of sleep, which is more than a lot of people here can say.”
“Come home at once. I told you to begin with that this idea of yours was foolish, and now you see the result.”
Chloe tried without success to follow that line of reasoning. “I don’t think my being here had anything to do with the flood hitting. And even if I wanted to come back to Philadelphia, I couldn’t. The roads are closed.”
“As soon as they’re open, then. Promise me, Chloe.” The autocratic voice seemed to waver just a little.
“I can’t, Gran.” Chloe kept her tone even. “There’s too much work to be done here. You’ve always taught me that it’s my duty to help those less fortunate. This time that includes my sister.”
Silence for a moment. “Is Susanna safe?”
At least Gran wasn’t pretending not to remember her name. “She isn’t injured, but her home and her business are both flooded, and it’s too soon to know how bad it is.” She hesitated, realizing that it was impossible to explain what it was like to someone who hadn’t experienced a flood. “She needs me to be with her. As long as I’m needed, I have to stay.”
Chloe found she was reliving that moment at the shelter when she and Susanna had suddenly been holding each other. She’d felt a joy that was somehow fierce in its strength. They were sisters, and Susanna was finally realizing it.
Another silence, longer this time, from her grandmother. And then . . .
“I suppose I still find it hard to see you as an adult who can take care of herself.” Gran’s tone was that of someone making a startling discovery. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do. And stay in touch.” This last was delivered in Gran’s usual tart tone, and she hung up.
Well. Was it possible her grandmother was actually changing? Chloe handed the phone to Seth.
He looked at her with his eyebrows slightly lifted. “I think that’s the firmest I’ve ever heard you speak to her.”
“I finally learned it’s the only thing that works with my grandmother. Maybe if my mother had known that, she wouldn’t have had to run away from home.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “She wouldn’t have become Amish. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, seeing the barriers falling into place between them again. But she couldn’t say anything except the truth. “I suppose I do.”
* * *
Nate
paused just inside the door of the shelter, his gaze sweeping the room in search of Susanna. She probably could have taken a break until it was time to cook supper, but most likely she found it easier to forget her worries when she stayed busy here.
The consistory building was more crowded now as additional neighborhoods were evacuated in the face of alarming predictions as to the river’s crest. Luckily there was plenty of room, and the sturdy old building was well away from the river. A pair of elderly men played checkers, using a stool for a table between them. Some people slept, while others gathered in small groups, probably sharing the latest predictions.
There were no Amish among the evacuees. Most lived outside town, and those in the danger area would have moved in with family or friends.
Finally Nate spotted Susanna. She was in the far corner of the room, bending over a young Englisch child, trying to get the little girl interested in a toy. The child drew back, finger in her mouth, looking on the verge of tears. Small wonder. Her young life had probably been turned upside down in the past few hours.
“Come on,” Susanna coaxed. “Barbie wants to play with you, don’t you, Barbie?”
With a jolt he realized that his niece Barbie was there, hidden from his view on the other side of Susanna. Apparently his sister was here working and had brought her along.
Barbie held out a doll to the Englisch girl, giving her a sweet smile that was very like her mother’s.
The child didn’t accept, but she pointed to Susanna’s apron, as if in explanation.
“You think we look different from you, I guess,” Susanna said cheerfully. “We wear different clothes, and sometimes we talk differently. But that’s just on the outside.” She put her hand over her heart. “Inside we want to be friends, and inside is what matters, ja?”
Little Barbie held out the doll again. This time the child took it.
“There, now,” Susanna said. “Why don’t you build a bed for the baby with those blocks?”
In an instant the kinder were working together, happy despite their differences in language and clothing. If Susanna were being judged on what she was like inside, as she’d said, it occurred to Nate that she was truly beautiful.
He backed away from that thought quickly. It wasn’t his business to be thinking about Susanna like that. He had a task ahead of him, and he prayed it wouldn’t be as unpleasant as he feared.
He took a step closer, and Susanna turned, seeing him. Her smile slid from her face at his expression.
“Something is wrong. Tell me.”
“No, no, nothing.” Well, that wasn’t true, but at least nothing new. “I came to get you. The creek has gone down enough that the police are letting people into that end of town to have a look.”
“We can go into the shop?” She clasped her hands at her breast in a gesture that mingled hope and prayer.
“Not into the buildings, no. They say it’s still too dangerous for that. But they’ll let owners walk down the street and have a look. We have to wear boots. I brought some from the store. Your sister is waiting in the car to take us there.”
Susanna nodded, and he thought she was trying very hard to stay calm. “I’ll just need to tell Julia that I’m going.”
It took only a moment to let the supervisor know, and then he guided Susanna to the side street where Chloe was double-parked, waiting for them. His mother sat in the front with Chlo
e, so he and Susanna slid into the back.
“We’ll know soon, ja?” His mamm reached over the back of the seat to clasp Susanna’s hand.
“We will.” Susanna glanced at Chloe. “It’s wonderful kind of you to drive us.”
“No problem.” Chloe pulled out onto Main Street. “I thought you could use some company, and I was free at the moment.”
“Where’s Seth?” Susanna asked, seeming to bracket the two of them together.
“He was helping move furniture at the middle school, the last I heard.”
Nate didn’t see anything startling in her response, but he saw Susanna give her sister a sharp glance. She’d apparently heard something he hadn’t.
They reached the barricade in a matter of minutes. Chloe parked and turned toward them. “I was told that they’d let in owners and renters in small groups, accompanied by an officer. I’ll go and see if they’re ready for us yet.”
Susanna nodded, her eyes wide with apprehension. He’d like to comfort her, and Mamm as well, but what could he say? They’d have to see for themselves.
He followed Chloe with his gaze as she approached the man in charge, feeling a grudging admiration for her capability. He’d heard from his sister about her work with water rescue. Obviously there was more to Susanna’s Englisch sister than he’d at first thought.
A small group of people passed the car, going back up the hill. Several of the women were weeping, and they all wore looks of shock. His mother murmured something soft and sympathetic, her eyes filled with shared grief.
Seeing Chloe returning, he got out and went around to help his mother pull on her boots and get out.
“They’re ready for us,” Chloe said. “Remember not to touch anything. There’s some question of the floodwater being contaminated.”
They walked with her to the barricade, where a young officer waited, and started down the street.
It was the first real glimpse Nate had had of the devastation, and it stunned him. Mud and debris filled the street, and several pieces of lawn furniture clung precariously to trees. One house was off its foundation. Still in one piece, it sat tilted diagonally several yards away, looking like a child’s dollhouse that had been tipped over. Several porches had been ripped off. A chicken coop, washed from an upstream farm, sat forlornly in the middle of the street.
