by Marta Perry
“The truth is that I’m not enjoying my work the way I used to.” He’d been trying to simplify it to a way Jessie might understand. Maybe he needed to do that in order to understand it himself.
“If you don’t like it anymore, why don’t you do something else?” Jessie sounded like the little girl who’d once thought her big brother could do anything.
“I’ve spent a long time getting where I am. I’m not sure I know how to do anything else.”
They were coming into Oyersburg, and she stared out the window at muddy streets and damaged houses. “You could come home,” she said. “To stay. Mamm would love it. And I would, too.”
“Thanks, Jessie. I’m not sure I could go back to being Amish again. But whatever I do, I won’t go off and leave you and Mamm again. Promise.”
“Is it because of Chloe that you don’t think you can come back?”
“Partly, maybe,” he admitted.
“If Chloe hadn’t been taken away when she was a baby, she would be Amish, too.”
“Could have been, but she isn’t.” No, she wasn’t any more than he was. Instead, they were neither one thing nor the other, it sometimes seemed. “Look, here’s the shelter,” he said, relieved to end this conversation.
As soon as he and Jessie stepped inside, he could see the changes a couple of days had made. Most of the cots had been taken away, and the few that remained were set off behind portable screens to give people some privacy.
“Most of the people who slept here at night have found other places to stay,” he explained. “The big job now is getting people fed.” He gestured toward the long rows of tables and chairs. “People can come in here for meals if they need to, and the workers also make things like sandwiches to take to folks who are cleaning up in the flood area.”
Jessie nodded, seeming reassured, and he realized that she might not have understood what she’d have to do. “I can make sandwiches.”
“Sure you can.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Mamm says you’re a good cook, and that’s what they need now.”
Jessie seemed to square her shoulders as if ready for a challenge.
He spotted Susanna and Chloe coming toward them, and in a moment Susanna was greeting Jessie in Pennsylvania Dutch. “We’re sehr glad you’re here, Jessie. If you want to come to the kitchen, I’ll help you get started.”
Jessie nodded and glanced at Seth.
“I’ll probably leave to work somewhere else, but I’ll come back to get you around four. Okay?”
“And you can just ask me or Susanna if you need anything,” Chloe added.
“Okay.” Jessie gave them a smile that lit her face, and she went off toward the kitchen with Susanna.
“She looks better,” he said, watching the two of them.
“Jessie wants to be part of things. We all do.”
Something in Chloe’s voice had him studying her face. “I’m sure that’s true, but I meant Susanna.”
Chloe blinked. “Oh. Well, yes, I guess she does seem less worried. They’re going to start working on the shop this afternoon.”
“That’s good news,” he said. So why did Chloe look as if something was weighing on her?
“What’s wrong?” Blunt, he supposed, but he knew her well enough to sense when something was wrong. “I thought you were pleased with how it went yesterday at Lydia’s.”
“I am. I’m fine.” She didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m happy that Susanna and Lydia clicked as well as they did.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like you’re protesting a bit much.”
Annoyance flared in her face and then slowly faded. “I suppose . . . I guess I should have expected it. It’s only natural that Lydia and Susanna would have more in common with each other than with me.”
He’d wanted her to tell him what was bothering her, but he didn’t find an answer to her problem as easily as he had with Jessie. In fact, maybe there wasn’t a good answer. He touched her hand in silent sympathy. Chloe, like him, was caught between two worlds, and that could be a painful place to be.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Are
you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chloe hesitated in the shop doorway, seeming reluctant to leave without Susanna on Monday afternoon.
“I’m going to work a bit longer.” Susanna appreciated Chloe’s concern, but she wasn’t ready to stop now that they’d finally been able to work at the shop. “You go.” She gave her sister a gentle push. “I know you want to check on Jessie. And maybe say good-bye to Seth, ain’t so?”
Chloe’s lips twitched. “You’re getting as bad as Lydia. Don’t matchmake.”
Warmth spread through Susanna. It was nice having a sister to share a joke with, just knowing there were people who wanted her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave Chloe a quick hug. “Go.” She made shooing motions with her hands.
Laughing, Chloe went, and Susanna turned back to the shop. Truth to tell, it was a bit of a relief not to have Chloe and Nate in the same room. Chloe’s silent antagonism toward him kept Susanna on alert, afraid she would speak her mind. She hadn’t, thank goodness, and Nate probably hadn’t even noticed.
The shop looked better already, and she’d stopped feeling queasy at the sight of it. Nate had brought some helpers earlier to shovel mud out, and once she could see the wide wooden floorboards the place had begun to look like the shop to her.
“Not so bad, is it?” Nate stood by the door to the back room, hands on his hips. “The boys did fine in here.”
“I’m wonderful glad they could help. And you, too, of course.” Nate had been here all afternoon, and she knew it was a sacrifice, with all there was to do at his own store. “I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, so don’t feel you have to stay any longer.”
He shook his head and turned to the steps. “Maybe we can get some work done upstairs now, if you’re not too tired.” He paused, glancing at her.
“I’m not tired,” she said quickly. She wouldn’t have him thinking she couldn’t do her share.
“Gut.” He started up the stairs.
Susanna followed, trying to keep her steps even. “I thought the rest of what’s stored upstairs would be all right now.”
They emerged into the upstairs space and Nate looked around, frowning. “I’m thinking it would be best to pack everything up and move it to the back room of the store. I can send a couple of people with a truck to do the actual moving once it’s boxed.”
“That’s fine, but why do we have to?” It was her turn to frown.
“Damp.” He pointed to a stain at the base of the wall. “It will turn to mold, and it has to be cleaned and treated quickly. No, it’s better to move everything.”
Her heart sank. “I didn’t realize the damage would keep getting worse.”
“I’d guess a lot of people are realizing that same thing about now. We’ve been telling ourselves the worst was over when the water went down, but I’m afraid it isn’t.” He picked up a box. “Let’s get started.”
Susanna nodded, grabbing a box from the stack Nate had brought in from the store earlier. She started taking wooden napkin holders from the shelf where they’d been stored.
“I can handle this by myself,” she said. “Chloe and Lydia will be here tomorrow, and they’ll help.”
Nate was bent over a large carton, and he turned his head to look at her. “You’re trying very hard to get rid of me, Susanna.”
“No, of course I’m not.” Was she that obvious? “I just know you have other work to do, that’s all.”
“Nothing that can’t go on without me for a time, at least. I’ll stay and take you home, or Mamm will have something to say about it.”
Light dawned. “Your mamm made you come and work on the shop today, didn’t she?” The corners of her lips tilted. She could just hea
r how Dora would have lectured him.
He threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender, his face relaxing in a smile. “It was the only way I could keep her from coming herself. But I would have helped anyway,” he added.
“I know.” No matter how much he’d like to see his mother give up the shop, Susanna felt sure he wouldn’t leave it in this state.
“Can I use this to pack things in?” The floor creaked as Nate pulled a chest out from under the eaves.
“Ja, of course.” Her heart gave a little thump at the sight of her dower chest. “Your mamm and I thought it would make a nice display piece down in the shop, with linens stacked in it. We just hadn’t gotten around to putting it out yet.”
Would they ever, now? She tried to brush the thought away but it clung like a persistent spider web.
Nate ran a hand over the smooth maple of the chest, fingering the precise mitering of the corners. “The maker was a real craftsman.” He glanced at her with sudden knowledge in his eyes. “This was yours, ain’t so?”
She nodded. “My daad made it for my fifteenth birthday. He said every girl should have a dower chest.”
“It wonders me that you’d want to have it in the shop, in that case.” He opened the lid, his hands careful. “Don’t you want it at home?”
“Well, I don’t have a home, not right now,” she pointed out, hoping that would end the subject.
Nate’s gaze didn’t waver from her face. “You gave it up long before the flood, it sounds like.”
He was persistent. She resigned herself to telling him what he so obviously wanted to know.
“My mother’s dower chest is at the house, and we didn’t need two of them. I suppose I never really needed one, but my father was such an optimist.” She smiled, remembering how Daad had insisted that someone would come courting.
“I don’t see what’s so optimistic about that,” Nate said. “Naturally he thought you’d marry.”
She carried an armload of quilted pillow covers over to him, kneeling to put them in the chest. “It didn’t work out that way.”
“Then the boys in Ohio must have been blind.”
The conviction in his voice surprised her. “Not blind. I was just a friend, that’s all. They told me all their troubles and asked my advice about other girls. They didn’t see me as a woman.”
“Like I said, blind.”
She tried to smile, but they were getting too close to the heart of her pain. “It was my limp. Sometimes I think that’s all folks notice when they look at me.”
Nate’s hand closed over hers on the edge of the dower chest. She looked up at his face, startled and shaken by the warmth that flowed through her at his touch.
“I promise you, when people get to know you, they don’t even see your limp at all.” His voice was so deep it seemed to reverberate through her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t keep her face from betraying the effect he had on her.
And then he was turning away, seeming to catch his breath. He cleared his throat. “You . . . Did you have a nice visit with Lydia and her family on Saturday?”
“Ja, very nice.” She averted her face, busying herself with folding the pillow covers. “We made apple butter, and I got to know the little boys.” She smiled, thinking of Daniel and David. “They are very sweet.”
“Probably enjoyed making the apple butter, ja? I know I did when I was young.” Susanna could feel his gaze on her face as he talked, but she refused to look up. “Did you learn more about your birth parents?”
“I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” She surprised herself with her honesty. “But Lydia had some things that belonged to her . . . our mother . . .” She still found it difficult to say the word. “Lydia wanted me to take a book, kind of a journal, it is, that Diane had written in. I didn’t want to hurt Lydia’s feelings, so I took it.”
“You read it?”
She nodded. “I wasn’t going to, but I did.” Susanna smoothed her hand over the patchwork pillow cover. “She sounded so young. They loved each other very much. And then it was all over.” Her throat grew tight.
He was silent for a moment, as if in respect for her surprising grief. “You can take comfort that even if their time together was short, they were happy in their love.”
Nate’s voice held sympathy, but there was something more . . . something pained and hard in it. She’d sensed that emotion before, when he spoke of his wife. She studied his face, searching for a clue, feeling as if she was the one who had to comfort him.
“You and Mary Ann . . .” she began, and then she didn’t know how to go on.
“Ja.” The word was short. Forbidding. When he looked at her it was like a blow. “Have you ever been trapped in a lie, Susanna? Everyone talks about how happy we were, how much we loved each other.”
“I’m sorry.” She spoke to the feelings, not the words, and she put her hand on his forearm. The muscles were so taut it was like touching metal.
“I thought we were happy.” The words burst out as if he couldn’t hold them back. “And all the time she was thinking of leaving me. That day she went away, when she was in the accident—she wasn’t coming back. No one knows that but me.” His gaze seemed to focus on her face. “And now you.”
“I would never say anything about it. Ever.”
“I know.” The muscles of his jaw twitched, and he shook his head almost angrily. “I don’t understand why I told you, but maybe that’s the answer. You’re safe.”
Safe. Her heart winced, but she tried to smile. “Like the boys telling me about their loves. They knew I would never speak of it.”
The tension in Nate’s face seemed to smooth away, to be replaced by something else she couldn’t name. He leaned toward her, reaching out to touch her face with his hand.
“I am not like those foolish boys, Susanna. I see you as a woman.” His fingers stroked her cheek, warming where they touched. Her breath caught. She seemed to feel that warmth moving right to her heart.
Nate leaned closer until she could see nothing but his face . . . the fine lines, the intensity of his gaze. And then he kissed her.
For an instant she was so startled she froze. And then her lips softened under his. She reached out, clasping his arm to draw him closer, longing, wanting . . . Her thoughts spun dizzyingly.
Nate drew back after an endless moment. Slowly, as if he didn’t want to. His face looked as dazed as hers must be.
“I didn’t intend . . .” He let that die. “Or maybe I did.” A smile tugged at his lips. “I’m not sorry. But I think we should be . . . well, cautious.”
She nodded, trying to catch her breath, to make her mind work. Cautious was a good word. She needed to think about what had just happened. She had to be sure what she felt before it happened again.
* * *
“The
water is on!” Chloe stared at the water gushing from the tap into the deep steel sink at the shelter. Today was Wednesday, so they’d been close to a week without water in the pipes. It had seemed like forever.
Jessie ran across the kitchen from the pantry to join her in staring, mesmerized, at the stream of water. A bit rusty, true, but it was there.
Chloe grabbed Jessie, spinning her around in a circle in a mad dance. “We have water. No more hauling it from the tankers. No more heating it on the stove.”
Jessie laughed, probably as much at Chloe’s antics as at the water. “It is a wonderful good sight. It’ll make things easier, for sure.”
“I don’t know when I’ve been so silly.” Chloe leaned on the sink, grinning. “I guess it’s just relief.” She turned off the tap and watched water circle the drain. “With the water on and electricity restored, we’re really getting back to normal.”
“Ja?” Some of the animation faded from Jessie’s face, and she turned away.
Chloe reached out to clasp her arm. Jessie had be
en a different person these last few days, working cheerfully at every task that was set before her, never complaining or sulking. Chloe didn’t want to see that Jessie change.
“What is it, Jessie? What’s wrong?”
The girl hesitated, her face averted. She shrugged. “I guess that means I won’t be needed.”
There was something lonely about the words that made Chloe’s heart clench.
“I’m sure that’s not true.” She scoured her brain for volunteer jobs Jessie could fill. Nothing involving technology, obviously. “Even after the shelter closes, there will be plenty of work to do helping with the cleanup. I know you’re not afraid of hard work.”
Jessie’s expression eased. “I can clean, that’s for sure. And hammer a nail or saw a board.”
“There, you see? That’s the kind of help Susanna needs now with the shop, and there are probably a hundred more people like her.”
“Gut. I mean, not gut that people are in trouble, but gut that I can help. I just want to be useful.”
The words had a poignant ring, coming from Jessie. Her condition had isolated her in many ways from the life she’d expected to have.
Seth and his mother were so wary around her, so careful of her. Was all that protection really necessary?
“I think we all want to feel useful,” Chloe said. “You know, with the work experience you’re getting here, you can probably get a job easily in Pleasant Valley when this is over.”
Hope flared in Jessie’s face. “Do you think so?”
“Why not?” she said. “You’re smart and capable. You can do it.”
Jessie’s smile broke through, and Chloe realized she was beautiful when her face showed a bit of animation.
“You’re right, I can.” Still smiling, she turned away. “Denke, Chloe. I’ll get back to stocking the pantry.”
Chloe watched her go, marveling at the change in her. Maybe all Jessie really needed was someone to believe in her.
