by Kelly Long
“Not alone, you’re not. Amy Dienner’s murderer has yet to be found. I’ll geh with you to work. But I would like it much better if you could simply be a carpenter in the light of day—with nee risk of shunning.”
He watched her shrug her slender shoulders. “I don’t mind taking the risk. And we can build far enough away that no one will see the light, but I do have one question: When exactly will you sleep if you’re working all day and guarding me at nacht?”
He laughed. “I still am unsure what the men at the mill think of me working with them, and besides, I’m sure you can find some interesting ways to keep me awake.”
She leaned closer to him. “Jah, I can.”
* * *
“Pneumonia?” Anke exclaimed, feeling suddenly sick to her stomach with worry. “Be ya sure?”
She saw Aenti Fern’s wry look. “Ya can hear him struggling ta breathe.”
Anke cast her eyes over Abner’s wide, bare chest and wished she might breathe for him.
“Love him, do ya?”
Anke was both startled and terrified by the question. “Nee . . . just I—”
“Mmm-hmm,” Aenti Fern replied. “Well, I’ve got some tea here for ya ta brew for him, and he needs ta throw up that congestion in his lungs. Give him a few drops of ipecac every half hour or so. He’ll kumme out right.”
“Ach, but mebbe ya had better stay. I don’t—”
“Anke, ya be many things, but a coward ain’t one of them. And the gut Gott knows that love is more fearful than hate sometimes.”
Anke watched her close her satchel and accepted the tea leaves to brew. She had no reply to Aenti Fern’s words, but she knew them to be true. She settled in for a long nacht. . . .
* * *
Tabitha crept from her bed long after they’d extinguished the lanterns. Matthew still slept on the floor and she moved softly, listening to the sound of his even breathing, until she’d made it to the dresser that housed her shifts. She rooted in the bottom drawer until she’d found the carved wooden ladle and held it carefully in her hands in the moonlight. For some reason it felt very important that she touch it before she embarked on the journey of building a home with Matthew—before carving the wood....
* * *
Abner was dreaming. He felt hot, as though the weight of a bear’s heavy fur enveloped him. He felt himself move, lumbering after the beautiful woman who beckoned to him. She brought him inside her cabin and eased him down on the hearth rug. He felt oddly safe and complete. He dozed in the light of the fire and she lay at his back, spooning against him, one arm around his waist.
He heard his own breathing; it seemed hoarse and labored. But still, he slept until a pressing pain in his stomach caused him to sit bolt upright and promptly throw up.
Chapter Thirty
“I don’t like bein’ fussed over!”
“I know,” Tabitha soothed as Abner dodged the spoon she was holding.
“Where’s Anke anyway?”
Tabitha hated to lie to him, but she’d given her word.
“Just resting for a bit. I know it’ll please her if you would take this medicine, though.”
She watched Abner exhale, then swallow the spoonful of herbal tea. “Blah. I’m sick of that stuff and being treated like a boppli. I need to get up and stretch my bones. It’ll do me gut!”
“I suppose a bit of a walk around the cabin would do no harm,” Tabitha said as she put down the spoon.
“Ha! I’ll walk down to the mill,” he roared.
“Hey, what’s all the fuss in here?” Matthew asked as he entered the cabin. “Abner, hasn’t Tabitha told you about Anke? I would have thought that you—”
“What about Anke?”
Tabitha threw a wry glance at her husband and spoke softly. “She didn’t want us to worry you.”
“What is wrong with Anke?”
Tabitha had never seen her guardian so upset. “She’s sick. Aenti Fern thinks she got it—”
“From nursing me, nee doubt.”
“Maybe, but she’s really doing much better.”
Tabitha watched helplessly as Abner pulled on his shirt and boots.
“She’s in her room at John’s?” he practically growled.
“Jah. . . .”
“Gut! I’ll be goin’ over now.”
Tabitha listened as the door slammed behind him, then looked at Matthew. “He’s acting like he still has a fever,” she said.
She saw Matthew’s slow smile. “I think he does have a fever—in his blood—and for Anke.”
“Anke? What are you talking about?”
“I think Abner wants to be more than friends with Anke.”
“I never even noticed,” Tabitha mused.
Matthew came forward and caught her in his arms. “Perhaps you’ve had other things on your mind, sweet.”
She stretched up to kiss him. “Perhaps you’re right.”
* * *
Abner took the steps three at a time to get to the second floor of the Stolfus haus. He knew that Anke’s room was a few doors down from Tabitha’s, but he wasn’t exactly sure of which door. He listened for female voices, then strode quickly down the hall and knocked.
“Anke!”
Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor from the other side. Abner hastily ran a hand through his hair as the door was flung open.
He stared down at Aenti Fern’s wrinkled and perturbed face.
“Where’s Anke?”
“In bed, where ya should be also.”
“I want ta see her,” he demanded despite Aenti Fern’s eye roll in response.
“I’ll ask if she wants ta see ya. Wait here.”
Abner stared at the wood as the door was shut briskly in his face. He chafed at the delay, but then Aenti Fern reopened the door.
“She doesn’t want ta see ya, Abner. Geh back ta bed.”
She got the door half shut before he automatically shot out an arm and halted the closure. “Fern, I’ve got ta make sure she’s all right.”
“She’s on the mend, Abner Mast, and she don’t need ya ta rile her up.”
“Please . . .” He choked out the word and lifted his head when he heard Anke’s voice.
“Let him in.... It’s all right.”
Aenti Fern glared up at him. “Five minutes. That’s it.”
He nodded and slowly stepped into the room as Aenti Fern stepped out. He was unprepared for how wan and sick Anke looked. He went forward and dropped to his knees at her bedside, gently taking her hand in his.
“How are ya?” he asked softly, surprised to feel tears sting his eyes.
“Better now. How are ya?”
He shook his head. “Ya be sick because ya took care of me. I remember ya prayin’ over me. I’m so sorry, Anke.”
“Ya don’t have power over sickness, Abner. Only Gott does, and I’ll be well again and up and around soon, thanks to Derr Herr.”
“You’re wise, Anke. Too gut for the likes of me, if truth be told.”
He watched her draw a deep breath. “But there’s a lotta truth I guess we don’t tell. Not to each other anyways.”
“Ya can tell me anything, sweet Anke. Please, won’t ya trust me?”
“I—”
Abner frowned as the door opened and Aenti Fern came in. “Time’s up. Abner, git up off the floor. She’s made it through, praise Gott, and yer prayers now might be better spent on someone else.”
Abner got to his feet but bent to brush a kiss across Anke’s forehead, careless of Aenti Fern. Then he left the room, much lighter in heart at the knowledge that Anke would get well....
* * *
Anke avoided Aenti Fern’s knowing eyes as she sipped a cup of beef broth.
“That man’s narrisch about ya, Anke.”
“It doesn’t matter. It would never work.”
Aenti Fern sniffed. “Let me tell ya a story about never working.... Gott decides if it’ll work. I remember walkin’ ta the school haus when I wuz about ten. I had f
ound a beautiful butterfly—bright blue and yellow—and I wanted ta bring it in ta show the class. I didn’t know enough ta understand that me touchin’ those wunderbaar wings would be enough ta destroy its power ta fly. A mean maedel named Barbara kumme along and mocked me, told me I killed the butterfly. She said I might as well have jest stepped on it right there. I started ta cry, and Barbara laughed. But then I opened my hand and the beautiful creature flew off, right above our heads. I learned that day that a lie can’t keep somethin’ from bein’ free. That butterfly flew, and Gott shut Barbara’s mouth. Ya need ta believe that Gott can shut the mouth of yer past and whatever it is that ya got held so tight within ya. Ya got ta live fer today and not fer the times when somebody broke yer wings. Ya trust Gott and ya can still fly. Believe me.”
Anke’s hand shook as she held her cup and she let the tears fall freely from her eyes. “Danki, Aenti Ruth. That’s the best medicine you could give me. And I’ll try; I’ll try.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The first chill of autumn came to Blackberry Falls, but the sun still shone brightly, and it was a gut day for the community to kumme together to build the cabin for Tabitha and Matthew. After the two deaths of Amy and Frau Smucker, it was healing to gather to celebrate new marriage rather than to mourn.
Tabitha had told no one but her friend Abigail about her plans to work on the cabin by lamplight. But, for the moment, she dutifully helped Anke, who was working more slowly after being ill.
Working alongside the other women, they were making slow-cooked molasses and baked beans, as well as large casseroles of scalloped potatoes. Hams had been smoked and baked to feed the men at noontime, and there would also be hot roast beef for sandwiches and a large assortment of pumpkin pies and desserts.
All the food was to be transported by wagon to the site of the new home. As Tabitha was helping to carry things outside, she was surprised to see her daed near the back porch. He was standing as if he were in great thought and Tabitha hesitantly approached him.
“Da, are you all right?”
“Tabby . . . hmm . . . jah, just came back to get my favorite screwdriver.”
She accepted his answer, but something bothered her about his expression. “Is anything worrying you?” she asked, reaching out to touch his sleeve.
He patted her hand absently, then looked down into her eyes. “I’m fine, kind. I was thinking how much you look like your mamm. She was beautiful, Tabby, as you are.”
“Danki, Daed.”
“It will not be the same to have you away from home—for all that I begged you to marry. I never really considered that you’d have your own cabin.”
His sad smile tugged at her heart. “It’s only a half mile away, Da. And I will see you often.”
He seemed to perk up at her words. “Of course you will. I’m only being foolish. And soon there will be kinner to kumme and visit as well.”
Tabitha felt herself flush as she agreed with a smile. In truth, she wondered how soon there might be grandchildren when she and Matthew had not even consummated their marriage. Yet she was confident that the raising of their own cabin would bring them more time alone together, and she felt in her heart that she was beginning to know and understand her husband better.
She shook off her thoughts as her daed walked away, and she went to help Anke carry a few last bottles of homemade root beer to the food wagon. Then they drove to the site.
Tabitha nodded to herself when they arrived, pleased to see the outer walls of the cabin framed and up in good order.
She had wanted nothing elaborate when it came to the new home. She’d been raised in rather grand rooms but here desired simplicity, and Matthew had agreed.
She caught sight of him, standing tall and handsome, with the wind playing in his chestnut hair. He was holding a hammer and was clearly listening to something Big Jim was saying. It thrilled her to think that Matthew was her husband, and she picked her way carefully through the construction materials to tap him lightly on the shoulder.
He turned, and when he caught sight of her, he bent and bussed her quickly on the mouth.
“Hello, my pretty.”
Tabitha felt herself blush with his praise. It’s a funny thing, because others have complimented me and yet none of them bear remembering since Matthew has kumme into my life.
Something of her thoughts must have communicated to him because he encircled her with one strong arm and bent to whisper in her ear, “Soon you’ll be working on the wood, as is your right, Tabitha.”
She nodded, wanting to tell him how much she appreciated his words, but she stepped away lightly when she saw Big Jim looking at them.
“I won’t keep you from your work.”
As she walked away, she realized that she wanted to show Matthew her secret workshop. Distracted, she nearly ran full tilt into Christi.
Tabitha laughed as she set the young girl on her feet. “I’m sorry, Christi. I bet you’re wanting to see the woodworking up close.”
“Jah . . . but Mamm says I need ta help with the dishes.”
“Well,” Tabitha encouraged, “so do I for the moment. Let’s geh help together.”
* * *
“Every cabin needs a little front porch ta sit on,” Big Jim commented to Matthew.
Matthew nodded. “Someplace to sit and rock the kinner when they can’t sleep.”
“For a newly married man, ya have great insight, Matt. There wuz many a time when I had ta rock Christi ta sleep as a boppli when she wuz teethin’.”
“I look forward to times like those.”
Matthew carefully knocked a nail into place in the porch frame, then took a deep breath of air redolent with the smell of fresh pinewood. Curled shavings of wood fell to the ground like fragrant snow as men worked on the upper beams and roof.
“Ach, young Matthew . . . how do ya like your cabin so far?” Bishop Kore asked, coming up behind him.
“It’s gut, sir. Just right for us.”
“A bit removed from the general community, though,” the bishop observed.
“We wanted it that way.”
“Jah, it’s gut to have some time apart from others. Though you will have the field mice . . . the termites . . . the ants.... the bats . . . the ladybugs, the spiders, and—”
Matthew nodded politely before the bishop could geh on. “Jah, sir . . . all of those. Danki for your blessing. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what else I can do to help Big Jim.”
“Jah . . . of course. Geh on . . . I’ll test the ground for the termites. Save ya some work later on. Ach, and I’ll have a word with the bats. You know some miss the dawn and hang about during the day.”
Matthew watched the man wander off and wondered once more how it was possible for the bishop to be so gifted at church meeting but so odd in the every day.
“Still, each man has his own path . . . ” Matthew muttered under his breath, then turned to resume working with Big Jim.
* * *
Abner knelt on the ground with his blue shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms. He plunged his hands into the bucket of soapy water and got cleaned up for lunch. But even as he wiped his neck and face, his sole focus was Anke. He could tell that she was tired and that she’d lost some weight from her illness. He longed to see her wan cheeks full of roses and her waist as pleasantly curved as always.
But for now, he’d be happy just to talk with her. She’d become rather withdrawn since she was sick and he’d had little chance to see her alone.
He walked over to the movable church benches, which had been covered and loaded with food. He took a plate and some silverware and made his way down the line, barely noticing what he scooped up until he came to Anke, who presided over a giant pan of scalloped potatoes.
“Anke—how are ya? I—I’ve thought about you a lot since ya was ill.”
He ignored the teenaged Amisch buwe behind him, who clearly cared only to keep the line moving past the potatoes.
“I’m fine, A
bner. Fine.”
“Well, uh . . . how about—”
“You’re holdin’ up the line, Abner,” she said bluntly.
Something inside him snapped. “I don’t care, Anke. But since ya don’t care neither, I’ll keep movin’ on.”
He regretted his words as soon as they were out of his mouth, especially when, farther down the line, the Widow Miller laid an extra slice of ham on his plate.
“Hiya, Abner. I heard what ya said ta Anke.” She laughed gaily. “Why not try some supper at my haus one evening? I promise ta keep the meal . . . hot.”
Abner felt the back of his neck grow warm. He wasn’t used to such brazen talk, especially when Anke was within earshot.
He mumbled a reply, then quickly went on to the sweet potatoes and auld Frau Umble, who was easily over ninety. She slapped a spoonful on his plate and gave him a birdlike glare from her dark eyes. “Abner Mast, don’t listen ta such foolishness! Ya don’t need a woman, jest a quick dip in the creek!”
By now he wanted to sink under the bench, but he nodded respectfully instead. “Uh, jah. Danki, ma’am.”
He fled the serving line and wandered aimlessly to an empty picnic blanket under a nearby oak tree, wishing he could be anywhere else....
* * *
Anke miserably ladled out scalloped potatoes in an absent fashion. She’d been surprised and then hurt by Abner’s words, Since ya don’t care neither . . . But I do care. It’s just that you deserve better than soiled goods.
Then she felt Gott speak to her heart. You are my child and there is nothing that has happened in the past that can change the good plans I have for your future. Nothing that I cannot turn to bless your life.
The thought was completely alien to her and she felt herself trying to reject it. If Gott wanted my life to be gut, why did He allow my oncle to do what he did to me? Why, when I was but a child?
The thought made tears fill her eyes and she abandoned the scalloped potatoes to turn and run blindly into the woods. She ran for a long time before finally dropping to the ground, exhausted, on a soft bed of moss.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Abner finished his food and was preparing to geh back to work on the cabin when he noticed that Anke was no longer serving. He thought she had gone to eat with the other women and let his gaze sweep over the various picnic blankets. Finally, he walked back to the serving bench, where auld Frau Umble caught his eye and motioned him over. He went rather unwillingly until he heard the woman speak.
