Where the Heart Takes You

by Virginia Wise

  Jacob looked surprised for an instant. Then he broke into laughter too. They laughed and laughed until the tears streamed from their eyes and their bellies ached.

  Jacob waited until the laugher faded before he stood up and offered her a hand. “I am sorry that I had to throw you in the trough. I had no choice, really.”

  She took his muddy hands in hers. “Surely we could have run into the cabin.”

  He shook his head as he lifted her out of the trough. “Not airtight enough.”

  Greta shrugged and adjusted the soggy prayer kappe. “Well, we are both alive. I guess that is all that matters.” She smiled. “I never thought that I would say this, but thank you for throwing me in the pigpen, Jacob.”

  * * *

  Ruth gasped when Greta strode into the cabin. “My goodness, child! Whatever happened?” The old woman jumped up and the ball of homespun yarn in her lap rolled onto the dirt floor. “You look like a monster!”

  Greta just smiled.

  “Greta, what on earth happened?”

  “Something wonderful.” She danced across the floor.

  “What?”

  “Jacob Miller threw me into the pigpen.”

  “What?”

  “Jacob Miller threw me into the pigpen.” Greta pulled off the wet prayer kappe and tossed it on the hearth to dry. “Well, first there were wasps. Hundreds of wasps. And then, all of a sudden, Jacob was there. And then we were in the pigpen together and we were laughing and . . .” Greta broke into a grin. “Don’t you see, Ruth? He rescued me! He braved a swarm of wasps to pull me to safety.” She hummed to herself as she picked up the bucket of water. “You should have seen us laughing afterward. He was rolling in the mud like a pig, I was hanging out of the trough, dripping wet, and we just . . . well, I guess you had to be there.”

  “Clearly.” Ruth clucked her tongue. “I thank the Lord that Jacob brought his hog in from the woods for the slaughter.”

  “Indeed. If his hog were still free to forage there would have been no place to hide.”

  Ruth shook her head. “What were you doing going around a wasp’s nest, anyway?”

  “Well, I . . .” Greta looked sheepish.

  “You weren’t looking for honey, were you?”

  “Ja. I thought they were bees.”

  Ruth slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh, Greta!”

  Greta shrugged. “So there will not be any cake, obviously. But I just might have discovered something better than honey.”

  “What?”

  “That Jacob Miller holds affection for me after all.”

  “Well, well. What a surprise.” Ruth smiled and picked up her mending basket. She did not look surprised in the least.

  Chapter Twelve

  Greta felt a surge of excitement as soon as she woke up the next morning. Everything has changed. Ja, he claimed to have no affection for me, but there was a spark between Jacob and me yesterday. Definitely a spark. That was not just a rescue—it was something more. Something wonderful!

  “Greta, just where do you think you are going?” Ruth stood over Greta’s pallet with her hands on her hips and shook her head.

  “To my chores. Where else?”

  “Oh, no you’re not.”

  Greta frowned. “The vinegar we put on the stings drew out the poison. I really do feel all right.”

  “Hmmph. Do not be ridiculous. Bed rest for you. At least until that swelling goes down.”

  “Swelling? How bad is it?” She patted her face with her fingertips. The flesh felt hard. “Now that you mention it, it does hurt a little bit.” She tried to smile, but her cheeks were too rigid to form a grin. “Ouch.”

  “Ja. Ouch is right. Now get back under the quilt and rest.”

  “But—”

  “No buts about it.”

  “But—”

  Ruth held up her hand. “I know that you are eager to see Jacob again, but you need to rest.”

  “Eager to see Jacob?”

  Ruth shook her head. “Please stop the charade, dear. He has made a most dashing impression.”

  “It was quite a rescue.”

  “Hmmm. Well, today you are so swollen that you look rather like a piglet—all shiny pink skin and beady eyes.”

  Greta pressed her fingers beneath her eyes. The skin felt hard and puffy. “Oh! I cannot possibly see him like this! I really do look like a piglet, don’t I?”

  “A very sweet piglet.”

  “But a piglet nonetheless.”

  “Stay home and rest. I thank der Herr that you did not have an adverse reaction to the wasps’ poison. Some people do, you know. It can be fatal for them.”

  “So this is not an adverse reaction?”

  “No. Just some swelling and redness. It will go down soon. Rest today and you will soon mend. I know you are looking forward to seeing Jacob again after your . . .” Ruth paused as she searched for the right word. “Successful interaction yesterday. But you must look after your health.”

  Greta let out a contented sigh. “This ‘successful interaction,’ as you call it, is a good sign, don’t you think?”

  “Actions do speak louder than words.”

  Greta considered the situation and her grin fell back into a frown. “Except that Jacob is a chivalrous man. He would never leave a woman to fight off a swarm of wasps alone, no matter who she is.” She went over the event in her mind. “He would have rescued anyone in my situation.”

  “True. But it seems that this was more than just a rescue, judging by the shine in your eyes.”

  Greta beamed. “I have never laughed so hard. And over such a foolish thing . . .”

  “Ja. Laughing over being thrown in a pigsty and chased by wasps. I would say there is something between you two.”

  Greta looked sheepish. “There is something between us, Ruth. There just has to be! The way I feel when he is near . . . I do not know how to describe it.” Greta bit her lip. “He brings out such emotion in me. And even when I think that he holds no affection for me I cannot wait to see him again!” She smiled at the memory of the two of them floundering in the mud like hogs. “And when he drops that guarded manner of his, well . . .” She shook her head, still smiling. “We sure do make each other laugh.”

  Ruth smiled. “I am so happy that Jacob is coming around. Although it should not have taken being chased by a swarm of wasps!”

  Greta’s face dropped back into a serious expression. “Well, we still do not know that he is interested in me. Remember, he has said the opposite. It might have just been a fleeting moment of passion due to the excitement and shared danger. People react to danger in strange ways, you know.”

  “Enough. I am leaving before you talk yourself in circles.”

  Greta pulled the covers up to her chin and snuggled down into the warmth. She sighed, closed her eyes, and drifted into a satisfied slumber, convinced that things were finally headed in the right direction.

  * * *

  Greta woke when she heard the cabin door open and close. She climbed out of a dream, yawned, and watched Ruth hang her cloak on the peg and set a basket onto the dirt floor. The old woman shuffled to the hearth and stoked the fire.

  “I will brew us some redroot tea.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Greta listened to the familiar clink of metal against metal and the slosh of water poured into a cup. The small cabin filled with the humid scent of dried leaves and damp earth. Greta studied the blobs of light and shadow that filtered through the oilcloth window as she waited for the tea to steep. Her thoughts hovered on yesterday’s rescue and the feel of Jacob’s strong hands as he tossed her to safety.

  A knock on the door brought her back to reality.

  “Oh! I look a fright.” Greta struggled to get up from her pallet on the floor, horrified at being caught in her shift in the middle of the day.

  Ruth put up a hand. “Do not fret, child. I do not intend to let anybody in.” She opened the door a crack. A draft of cold air and a sliver of sunshine fell ac
ross the dirt floor.

  “Well, what a pleasant surprise.”

  Greta studied the back of Ruth’s head, but she could not see who was there. She strained to hear the conversation, but could only make out Ruth’s side of it.

  “No. I have put her to bed.”

  A low murmur from the other side of the door.

  “Ja, ja. She is fine. Nothing some vinegar and bed rest cannot cure.”

  More murmuring.

  “Ah! Danke! What a fine supper we will have now.”

  Another murmur.

  “No. Do not worry. And thank you again.” Ruth shut the door, turned around, and held up a fat rabbit for Greta to admire.

  “Jacob brought us supper.”

  Greta’s heart thumped against her chest. She wished that she had seen her handsome rescuer herself.

  “How does he look? Is he okay?”

  “Ja, ja. He is fine. He only got a few stings.”

  “So he is not a fat piglet, like me?”

  Ruth chuckled. “He seems fine. A few stings here and there, but no worse for the wear.”

  “Thank the Lord.”

  “Ja. Der Herr has been good to you both. It could have gone very badly for you two.”

  “Ja.”

  Ruth set the rabbit down by the hearth and checked the sack of root vegetables. “I think we have enough carrots to make a nice rabbit stew.”

  “Perfect.” Greta sighed. “I wish that he could have come in for a visit.”

  Ruth shook her head as she counted out a few carrots. “He could not stay, even if you had been properly dressed. He is on his way to the new Witmer farm. Or what will be the Witmer farm. There is much work to be done to clear the land and build the cabin. And, in the meantime, Jacob is taking them some of his wheat stores.”

  “He is a thoughtful man.”

  “It is our way to help one another.”

  “Ja. He is a good Amish man.”

  “Ja.”

  “I cannot help but wonder what will happen now.” Greta glanced at Ruth with bright eyes. “Yesterday morning I was convinced that there was no future for Jacob and me. But now . . .” She smiled. “Well, things seem different now, ja?”

  * * *

  Greta did not teach school the next day. “You do not want to scare the children, dear,” the elderly woman explained. Greta touched her swollen face and sighed. “I feel much better.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I think that I will be ready to see Jacob soon.”

  Ruth raised her eyebrows. “You may want to wait another day or two.”

  “That bad still?”

  Ruth shrugged. “I would say that you might not make your best impression.” They both laughed.

  “I am feeling well enough to get back to work though.” She grabbed the bucket and headed for the creek. The rich scent of woodsmoke drifted through the forest and met her at the edge of the clearing. Greta heard the sharp thud of axes and smiled. She knew that the men were bringing down the dark woods that separated her from Jacob. She hummed a happy tune as she picked her way between the hemlocks. A deeper voice joined hers when she neared the water. Greta paused, cocked her head, and then spun around. “Jacob Miller!”

  “Hello there.”

  “You are clearing the land between our farms?”

  “Ja. Soon there will be no place left for the wolves and bears to hide.”

  “I look forward to fetching water without fear of wild animals!” Greta grinned, then remembered her distorted features as their eyes met. “Oh, wait. Oh no!” She tried to pull her cloak over her face. “Jacob, I look a fright. Really, you mustn’t . . .”

  Jacob smiled. “Do not be silly, Greta. I’ve come to give you a hand.”

  “But I will scare you away if you see me. I look like a piglet.”

  “Greta.” He shook his head. “Don’t. I am not concerned with how you look.”

  “You’re not?” She lowered the cloak. “Even though I look like this?”

  Jacob shrugged. “I prefer witty banter to a pretty face.”

  Greta blushed and looked down.

  “And besides, that swelling will go down soon enough. And then you will have both beauty and wit.” Greta blushed even more. She raised her eyes and Jacob met her gaze with a grin. “But for now, you are rather frightening.”

  “Jacob Miller!” She punched his arm and he pretended that it hurt. But the grin did not leave his face.

  “If you stop attacking me I will draw the water for you.”

  Greta smiled. “Very well.” She held out the bucket. But when he reached for it, she spun around and dashed away.

  “Hmmm. Nice try.” Jacob took off after her, dodging stones and tall grass as he cut the distance between them. Just as he reached her, Greta collapsed to the ground in a heap.

  “Greta! Have you twisted your ankle again?” Greta waited a few beats, then jumped up, laughed, and raced away. “Very tricky!” Jacob leapt after her. He overtook her quickly and lunged for the bucket. She was laughing too hard to keep her grip and, as their eyes met, he pried the bucket from her fingers. An unexpected seriousness fell over them as they each gazed deep into the other’s eyes. Jacob cleared his throat and looked away. Greta smoothed her prayer kappe.

  “I will just, uh, give you a hand here.” His voice sounded awkward and unsure.

  “Ja. Thank you.” They walked side by side toward the edge of the creek. “You have a way of appearing at the right time, you know.”

  Jacob shrugged. “I stopped by the cabin to check on you, and the Widow Yoder told me you had already left to collect the water.”

  “I . . . I wanted to tell you . . .” Greta swallowed, unsure of what to say. “I wanted to tell you that I am glad that you were there yesterday. Thank you for saving me from the wasps.”

  Jacob smiled. He felt his heart grow warm. I would never let any harm come to you. “It was nothing.”

  “And thank you for the rabbit. Will you stay for some stew? It is the least that I can do. . . .”

  Jacob stared into Greta’s hopeful eyes. He felt himself make a decision. I want to be near this woman every day. I want to be happy again. I want to trust der Herr with my future again. He nodded and knew that he was committing to much more than a meal. “I would like that.”

  Greta flashed an excited smile.

  “But we have to finish taking down the stand of trees beside my field. And then I must help the Witmers. They have a great deal to do before the snow flies.” A flock of birds exploded into the air as a loud crash echoed through the forest. Jacob glanced back toward his farm. “There goes another tree. I cannot leave the others to do the work. I have to go.” But I will be back soon, Greta Scholtz. And I will sit you down over a nice dinner and tell you how I really feel. I have waited this long. Waiting another day or two will not hurt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Greta’s stomach fluttered with anticipation Sunday morning. She took longer than usual to adjust her prayer kappe and straighten her neck cloth. She checked her apron for stains and shook the fabric to loosen the wrinkles. The white cloth snapped in her hands like a sail.

  “Ready?” Ruth asked as she rose from the three-legged stool as Greta pinned the apron to her bodice. “Taking your time this morning, I see.”

  Greta ignored the comment and rushed outside. Ruth followed a moment later with a basket in her hand. “You forgot the bread to serve after the service.”

  Greta shook her head. “I do not know what is wrong with me today.”

  “I think that I might have an idea.”

  They walked in silence as the frozen grass crunched beneath their feet. The sunrise cast golden streaks of light across the frosty clearing and made the ice crystals sparkle. But Greta did not notice the beauty of the morning. She was too busy going over her last interactions with Jacob Miller. His manner toward me has definitely changed. Now I am certain that he did not mean it when he said that he held no affection for me.

  I
t was too cold to sit outside, so the settlement crammed into Jacob’s one-room cabin for the service. The fire crackled as they lifted their voices in song. Greta felt cozy in the warm cabin as she drifted away with the rhythmic melody. She cut her eyes to the side without turning her head and stole a secret glance at Jacob. A gentle smile formed on her lips as she dared to hope that he was on the cusp of declaring his true feelings for her.

  Greta tried to listen to the service, but her mind drifted. Every thought strayed back to the handsome widower no matter how much effort she made to pay attention. Her eyes cut to Jacob again and again, then flicked back to the front of the room before anyone noticed.

  * * *

  Jacob felt distracted throughout the service. His attention—and his gaze—wandered to Greta. He tightened his jaw and pulled his eyes away. Again.

  His thoughts drifted back through their time together. He chuckled inside when he remembered the first time he had ever seen her. She looked so ridiculous sprawled in the mud. And then there was the time she threw a squash at him. I might have deserved that one. Or the way they both ended up covered in pig slop and mud to escape the wasps.

  Jacob sighed and glanced over at Greta again. She sat still as a statue as she focused on the sermon, a gentle expression on her soft, kindhearted face. I have fought and fought this. And I am so relieved not to fight it anymore. He closed his eyes. It feels so good to finally give in and trust you again, Lord.

  Catrina’s gaze flicked over to Jacob. She caught him staring in her general direction and moved her eyes back to the front of the room, a soft, sultry smile on her full red lips. Jacob frowned. Catrina thinks that I was looking at her. He did not allow his eyes to wander to the women’s side of the room again for the rest of the service.

  * * *

  After the three-hour service wound to a close, the men pushed the backless benches into the center of the cabin and the women piled them high with meat, bread, and vegetables. The space around the table filled with elbows and loud voices as the small congregation tried to move around the tiny cabin, wooden trenchers in hand.

  Greta scooped up a spoonful of roasted carrots. “I am glad that we have managed to grow more than pumpkins.”