by Debby Giusti
The stranger was probably walking through the parking area and had inadvertently passed close to Ruthie’s buggy. Noah was making too much of something that was nothing more than happenstance. Plus, he didn’t have time to track down the guy. From the dark clouds rolling overhead, they needed to start back to the mountain if they hoped to make it home before the rain.
TWELVE
Halfway up the mountain, the rain started to fall, fat drops that pounded the top of the buggy. A stiff wind drove the rain at an angle, drenching Ruthie and Noah. The boys got wet as well, even though they were hunkered down in the rear seat.
“Simon, make sure the bag of mail stays dry,” Ruthie called back to him.
“The bag is plastic, Mamm. The envelopes are dry.”
She grabbed blankets and wrapped them over the boys and then around her legs and Noah’s.
The temperature dropped at least ten degrees, and the gusting mountain air and driving rain made the ride even more uncomfortable.
The buggy started to shimmy. Noah pulled back on the reins to slow Buttercup’s pace.
Ruthie glanced around the outside of the rig. “The back rear wheel is wobbling.”
Noah steered the mare to a clearing on the far side of the road. Before he could pull her to a stop, the wheel flew off and rolled down the incline.
The buggy shifted. Ruthie screamed.
“Hold on, boys,” Noah warned as the buggy tilted, throwing Ruthie to the ground. The boys fell against the side of the buggy, then tumbled out, landing near their mother.
She screamed and crawled to her children. “Simon, Andrew. Oh, Gott, help us.”
Heart in his throat, Noah jumped to the ground and hurried to check on both boys. They were stunned but sat up without a problem.
Tears ran from Ruthie’s eyes as she gathered the boys into her arms. “I feared you both were hurt.”
“Are you all right?” Noah kneeled beside her, touching her arms and legs to ensure nothing was broken.
“I am not so fragile to break in a fall.”
Ruthie was strong-willed and determined, but her husband and father had died in a buggy accident. Noah knew the fear she had to have felt seeing her boys tumble from the buggy. His own heart had nearly stopped, too.
He led Ruthie and the boys to shelter under a large oak tree and wrapped the damp blankets around them. The rain continued as Noah retrieved the wheel and worked to reattach it to the buggy.
Noah thought of the man who had been snooping around the buggy. Loosening a few bolts could cause the wheel to shimmy off-kilter with time, which is probably what happened. When Noah had checked the wheels, all the bolts were in place, but evidently not screwed in tight enough.
He dug through the supplies he had purchased at the lumber-supply store and found bolts that would fit the wheel. He also found a toolbox in the rear of the buggy.
“You need help?”
Turning, he saw Simon, who had left the cover of the trees.
Noah appreciated the offer. “If you hold the wheel, Simon, I can slip the bolts in place.”
Working together, they reattached the wheel. The mare would have to go slow, but they would be able to get home.
He helped Ruthie and Andrew into the rear of the buggy, where they would be at least somewhat protected from the rain.
“I will sit next to you,” Simon announced.
“You’ll be more comfortable in the back with your mother and brother,” Noah encouraged.
“Yah, but it is good to be here with you.”
Noah’s less-than-thorough inspection of the buggy in town had placed Ruthie and her boys in a dangerous situation, yet he heard no accusation in Simon’s tone, nor did he see anything except admiration in the boy’s gaze.
In spite of the mistakes his biological father continued to make, Simon would grow into a fine man. Of this, Noah was certain.
* * *
Ruthie was too shaken to think of anything except that her boys had not been hurt. When she had seen them lying on the ground, she had thought the worst and her heart had been ready to break. Only two months ago, Ben and her father had been killed, although Ben’s failure to stop at an intersection had placed him at fault. Still, no matter who was at fault, her husband and datt were dead, and today’s accident had made her fear her boys had been injured.
With a grateful heart, she offered a prayer of thanks that her sons had been spared. Sensing Noah’s upset, she tried to control her own emotions. She knew he held himself responsible, but he had done nothing wrong. No one would suspect someone would tamper with their buggy wheel. But someone had.
Again, she thought of the man in the pizza parlor, as well as the man who had tracked her down in the library. Could either of them be the man who had attacked her twice on her farm?
Hoping to keep Andrew warm, she wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close. Simon had to be chilled, but he was trying to be so grown up. Ever since Ben had died, he had considered himself the man of the house. Simon had taken on that role without her prompting, and she admired his internal sense of purpose, although she did not want him burdened with responsibility at such a young age.
Both boys were enamored of Noah, and as much as she enjoyed seeing them happy, she feared their spirits would be dashed when he left in a few days. To protect the boys she should stop Noah from coming around, yet she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Noah would do anything to keep them safe. With the hateful man on the loose, she and her sons were in danger, but knowing Noah was never far away provided a sense of security that would surely end when he sold his father’s land and moved away.
Drawing Andrew even closer, she glanced down at the bag of mail and worried about what to expect tonight as she sorted through the bills. She would wait until the boys were in bed before she opened the envelopes, but the thought of what she might find unsettled her.
Tired and wet when they got home, she heated water on the stove and poured it into the washtub. Both boys bathed, enjoying the warm soak, then dressed in flannel pajamas.
After their filling lunch in town, Ruthie fixed peanut-butter sandwiches and wedges of cheese and apple for their evening meal.
Noah had parked the buggy in the barn, promising to work on the wheel later, and had gone home to change into dry clothes.
Her body ached, made worse by the cold. A hot bath would help ease the soreness, but by the time she tucked the boys in bed, the bath water had turned tepid, and she was too tired to refill the tub.
She washed her hands and face and changed into dry clothes. After throwing another log into the woodstove, she pulled her bent hickory rocker closer to the warmth and turned up the oil lamp.
Reaching into the plastic bag, she sorted through the mail. The flyers and pamphlets could be tossed, but she placed the important correspondence in a pile on the side table.
Her heart sank as the pile grew. She threw away the junk mail before she opened the bills, one after another. Her stomach churned as she realized how much debt Ben had accrued. He had cautioned her never to buy on credit, yet he had done that very thing more than a few times.
The fact he had taken out credit cards troubled her. She needed to talk to the bank manager the next time she went to town to see how much money was left in their small savings. She feared it was near rock-bottom, which only compounded her misery.
Overwhelmed with concern about her financial situation, she sighed before she reached for the next letter in her pile. The return address read Prescott Construction, the same buyer who was interested in Noah’s farm. She ripped open the envelope and noted the letter had been written six weeks earlier and had probably been waiting for her at the post office all this time. The company expressed interest in buying her land.
As much as she wanted to keep her property and turn it over to the boys someday, she needed to be practical. If her finan
cial situation was as dire as she believed it to be, she had to make some tough decisions. Selling the farm would break her heart, but taxes would soon be due on the land, and she needed money to buy feed for the livestock and seed for the fall crops. Money she did not have.
Was the offer from Prescott Construction the answer to her financial problems? She did not want to leave the mountain, but she might not have a choice.
Another thought surfaced that gave her pause. Could the man who wanted to do her harm be involved with Prescott Construction?
THIRTEEN
Noah returned to Ruthie’s barn later that night to fix the broken wheel and soon saw her leave the house and walk to the graveyard. Despite the sweater she wore, she rubbed her arms against the cool evening air and paused at each grave, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Noah sensed the heaviness that appeared to weigh upon her heart. More than anything, he wanted to comfort her and apologize for not being more proactive today. Had he done a better job checking the buggy wheel, he could have had it professionally repaired before they left town. The ride home would have been wet but uneventful. Instead it had almost been a disaster.
As he watched, Ruthie kneeled on the damp earth and tugged at the weeds growing between the graves, no doubt wanting to ensure Ben’s final resting spot wouldn’t be blighted, as his life had been. The sight of such a caring and considerate woman mourning her husband with servitude wrenched his gut and brought a bitter lump to fill his throat. Ben didn’t deserve Ruthie’s love. Nor did Noah, yet she was too young to be a widow with two sons to raise by herself.
Her husband had been shunned, and Ruthie suffered with the shame. She had not been ostracized from the community, yet she had rejected any offer of help from the bishop and his church. Noah hoped that would change over time.
Eventually some handsome farmer would come courting. At first, he would help her with her farm. They would get to know each other until a bond formed that might eventually lead to love.
Ruthie was too pretty and sweet and hardworking to be ignored by the single Amish men in the area.
They were probably giving her an opportunity to mourn before they came knocking at her door.
Noah fisted his hands, surprised by the frustration mounting within him. Not at Ruthie, but at the men who would be vying for her hand. None of them would be good enough for her, but perhaps they could offer her what she wanted—to live Amish on her land.
Noah thought back over his years in the Englisch world. He had hoped life would be different when he left the mountain, but he had all too quickly learned that the internal struggle eating at him in his youth—his sense of inadequacy and need to isolate himself from his drunken father—remained constant.
He had also learned that the Englisch world, like the Amish, required hard work and steadfastness. He had done well with his jobs, and seeing Seth find love and have a family had brought him joy. Then the dam had collapsed and everyone he loved had been swept away.
Except Ruthie. She was the last link he had to the past. When he thought back to his youth, he had wonderful memories of their time together.
He continued to watch her as she pulled weeds and intermittently wiped at her eyes. Was she crying? Her tears broke his heart and confirmed she was not looking for anyone else to fill her husband’s shoes. Even if Ben Eicher hadn’t deserved her love and attention.
Glancing at the upstairs bedroom window, Noah wondered if Simon and Andrew were asleep. The boys were both so full of life and energy. The thought of them brought a smile to his lips and a joy to his heart that pushed past the pain of seeing Ruthie grieve for her deceased husband.
No matter how much Noah cared for the boys, he still needed to leave, so Ruthie could move on with her life. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it needed to be done for her sake—for her future and that of the boys. Noah would only stand in the way of her happiness.
He turned back to the broken wheel, but his heart was heavy, and he decided to call it a day and return to his father’s house. Things might seem better in the morning, although he doubted anything would be different. Ruthie would remain the dutiful wife grieving her husband’s death, and Noah would be the man who had left her pregnant and alone. Gott help him for what he had done, even if he hadn’t known about the baby growing within Ruthie’s womb. Leaving her had been a huge mistake, and leaving his child compounded the guilt that welled up within him. Tonight, the pain of what he had lost was almost too much to bear. He needed to distance himself from Ruthie. She would continue to mourn her husband’s passing while Noah mourned his youthful mistake that still ate at his heart.
After returning the tools to their rightful places, Noah peered from the barn to ensure Ruthie had gone inside. The now neatly weeded cemetery was empty except for the simple grave sites that marked the passing of her family.
Rain started to fall as he headed home. The river had continued to rise over the last few hours. If the water overflowed its banks, Ruthie’s home could be flooded as had happened years ago when they were both children.
“She doesn’t need any more problems, Lord.”
Noah glanced back at her house, realizing that was the first time he had prayed aloud since the Chattanooga dam had broken.
Maybe he was starting to heal. Walking across the bridge, he shook his head at his moment of optimism. He would never heal, and that would be the burden he had to endure for the role he played in his brother’s death.
Stopping on the far side of the bridge, he turned to stare at Ruthie’s home, all the while ignoring the rain. As a kid, he’d enjoyed visiting his best friend, who eventually grew into the woman he loved. How had what started out so good turned so wrong? She had married someone else because Noah had thought of himself instead of what Ruthie needed.
Why hadn’t he loved her enough to stay because he wanted her in his life? Some would argue that he was young and self-centered, both of which were true, yet he couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to Ruthie and, unknowingly, to Simon.
He turned back to his father’s house and thought again of the lonely nights when his datt was drunk and ready to whip him for some imagined problem. Noah had never been good enough, but at least he had been the one his father punished instead of his younger brother. Seth had escaped their father’s physical abuse, not that it made Noah feel any better right now.
Tonight, he felt once again like that boy going home to find his father either passed out in the house, or ready to take a strap to his backside.
Life back then had been tough, but that was the past and he needed to focus on the present. Being with Ruthie and the boys over the last few days had brought Noah joy, although he would leave soon. He didn’t deserve happiness, and without Ruthie and the boys he would never be truly happy again.
* * *
Ruthie stood in the unlit downstairs of her house and stared out the window, watching Noah walk back across the bridge until he faded into the darkness.
Tired as she was, she hoped the night would be uneventful. The day had been a seesaw of emotions that had sapped her energy. Tonight she wanted to sleep without dreams of a man with a stocking over his head. She wanted to feel safe and secure in her own home without fearing what was going to happen next.
The deputy said he would have someone patrol the mountain. Would he be true to his word and would she even notice when law enforcement drove by? It was doubtful their occasional presence would deter anyone who wanted to do her harm.
She headed to the bent hickory rocking chair by the stove. After lighting the oil lamp, she reread the letter from Prescott Construction. If only she knew what to do.
Earlier, she had walked to the cemetery, where her mother and infant sister were buried, to draw strength and, hopefully, get answers.
Having her mother die in childbirth had rocked her world as a young girl. Her father had gone to get the midwife and told Ruthie to take car
e of Mamm while he was gone. He had returned soon after her mother had taken her last breath. Brokenhearted, Ruthie held on to the last words her mother had whispered on her deathbed. “Take care of your father.”
Ruthie had tried. That was why she had not run away with Noah that night, much as she had wanted to. She had planned to talk to her father and soften the blow of her leaving, and work out some arrangement for his care. All those plans were for naught because Noah had left without her, never realizing how he had broken her heart.
She laid the letter from the construction company on the kitchen table, turned off the lamp and slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Once again, she pulled back the curtain and stared at the farmhouse on the opposite side of the river. A light glowed in a downstairs window.
She imagined Noah with a cup of coffee in hand, staring pensively back at her. How had their lives become so mixed up when they had been so much in love?
Some things were never meant to be, and perhaps she and Noah had never been meant for each other.
That realization made her heart ache as she crawled into bed and closed her eyes. All she could see was Noah’s handsome face and his eyes twinkling with laughter as they used to do when they were both young and in love.
FOURTEEN
Noah couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking of the buggy accident and what could have happened.
The rain increased through the night. Concerned about the rising river, he donned a water-repellant windbreaker, grabbed his Maglite and walked to the water’s edge. The river churned as it flowed down the mountain, the current strong with whitecaps. If the river overflowed its banks, nothing would remain in its path.
He played the light over the bridge, checking the underpinnings, and realized he had not shored up the rotting wooden beams as he had planned to do. Tomorrow the bridge would be his first priority.
