Chapter Two

Two years later

I-I d-don’t understand w-why I have to l-leave t-today.” Dinah watched her mother fold one of Dinah’s long-sleeved dresses and put it into the suitcase. Long sleeves? It was only the end of August. How long would she be gone?

“I don’t see any reason for you to wait.” Mamm smoothed out one of the wrinkles in the dress before closing the case. “Your aenti Judith will be happy to see you.”

Dinah had to fight the urge to open the suitcase back up, snatch out the neatly packed clothes, and hang them up in her closet. She didn’t want to leave New York, even if she was going to visit her favorite aunt. “S-she’s n-not e-expecting m-me u-until tomorrow.”

“I know she won’t mind if you come a little early.”

“But i-it’s nearly h-harvest t-time.” She was grasping at straws, but she couldn’t help herself. “Y-you n-need m-me here.”

“Dinah,” Mamm said as she moved the suitcase and sat beside her on the bed, “you and I both know I have plenty of help.”

Dinah glanced away. Of course Mamm had enough help. All five of her brothers were married, the last one marrying earlier this year. Mamm had five daughters-in-law to pitch in with harvesting the garden. It wasn’t as large this year as it had been in the past. After all, it was only her and her parents living in this house now. And Mamm seems eager to get rid of me.

When Mamm received the letter from Aenti Judith last week suggesting Dinah come for a visit, Mamm jumped at the opportunity. “Just think, you’ll get to visit Ohio again,” she’d said before running to the phone shanty to call her sister and make arrangements. Before Dinah knew it, she was scheduled to leave the following week.

Dinah loved her aunt and wanted to see her again. The last time she had was at her aunt’s wedding to David Mullet. But she hadn’t wanted to go so soon. She picked up Jasper, one of several stray pets she’d adopted over the years. “Who’s going to help you can the tomato sauce?” she asked, stroking the tabby’s soft head. He purred his appreciation. At least her cat was happy.

“Joanna wants mei recipe.” Mamm beamed. “She also wants me to show her how I make Chow Chow.”

Resisting a sigh, Dinah put Jasper down. Making tomato sauce and Chow Chow were things she and her mamm did together. I guess Mamm and Samson’s wife will be doing it from now on.

Mamm took Dinah’s hand. “Look at me, Dinah.” When she did, Mamm said, “Don’t be upset about this. You’re spending too much time at home. You’re becoming more insulated. I’m worried about you.”

“I c-can geh to M-Middlefield later.” Much later. Or maybe not at all.

“Later will never come.”

Dinah had heard all this before. So what if she’d rather spend time in her room with her poetry books and journals? When she wrote, she didn’t stutter. She didn’t get nervous. She didn’t feel judged.

She also, as Mamm had been pointing out lately, would never meet her future husband.

But her family didn’t understand how nervous she became in front of other people. How she hated the fact that she stuttered and her face turned red every time she talked. Dinah was content to be home, to take care of the myriad of pets she had collected over the years, along with writing her poetry. Which reminded her that she had one more excuse left to use. “W-who’s g-going to t-take care of S-Skipper?”

“Yer daed said he’d keep an eye on him for you.”

“B-but his leg—”

“Is healing nicely, according to the vet. He said you did a fine job taking care of his sore foot. Yer horse is in gut hands. So are the rest of yer pets.” Mamm bent and scratched Jasper behind his ears. “I want you to enjoy yer time with yer aenti, Dinah. Hopefully this will also give you the chance to meet new people.”

“I-I d-don’t w-want to m-meet anyone n-new,” she whispered.

Mamm either didn’t hear her or decided to ignore Dinah’s words. She released Dinah’s hand and stood. “I’ll let you finish getting dressed. The taxi will be here soon to take you to the bus station.” She smiled. “You’ll be fine, Dinah. I promise.”

“W-when c-can I c-come b-back?”

“Two weeks. Unless you want to stay longer. You can always extend yer ticket.”

Dinah was positive she wouldn’t do that. She watched her mother leave her room, and her shoulders slumped as she heaved a pent-up sigh. Two weeks? That was an eternity. She said a small prayer, asking for courage, but her heart wasn’t in it. This was her first trip alone, and she felt foolish for being so nervous. She was twenty-five, not five, and she should be able to go on a trip without feeling like her stomach was turning inside out.

She sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. She could do this. Aenti Judith had married a stern man, but Dinah had seen the way he looked at her aunt at the wedding—with love. Love that a secret part of her wished she could have. But who would want a stuttering wife who was afraid of her own shadow?

“Dinah!” her mother called from downstairs. “The taxi is here!”

Dinah jumped up from the bed. She still hadn’t put on her shoes. She scrambled for her black sneakers, yanked them on, then grabbed her suitcase. She flew down the stairs, fighting her fear.

“I love you,” Mamm said, giving her a quick hug. “This will be a gut trip for you, Dinah. You’ll see.”

But Dinah could only nod, unable to speak. She walked outside and went to the taxi. As she got in, she hoped her mother was right.

“Amos! Amos!”

Amos’s body stiffened with fear. “Whoa!” he shouted at Penny and Nickel, his two draft horses. He yanked on their reins as hard as he could. They halted and the hay mower behind him stopped rotating.

“Amos!”

Daed sounded hurt. And scared, which scared Amos too. He dropped the reins and ran to the other side of the hayfield. He found his father on the ground, his left knee pulled up to his chest. He was also grabbing the front part of his leg under his knee.

Blood flowed from between his father’s fingers. The old scythe he’d used to cut down the patch of hay was lying beside him.

“Have to be strong . . . Have to be strong.” He repeated the words over and over as he made himself kneel beside his dad. The sight of blood always made him sick, and he had a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he’d eaten an orange peel. Daed’s face looked dark red, like beets. Sweat poured down Daed’s face and he sounded like his shirt collar was too tight around his neck. He tried to speak but all he did was groan.

“Don’t get scared . . . Don’t get scared.” Spots showed up in front of Amos, but he knew they weren’t real. His brother, Jeremiah, had explained that his eyes were playing tricks on him when he felt like he might pass out. “Don’t get scared . . . Don’t get scared.” But Amos was scared. He wished Jeremiah were here. Jeremiah was a vet, and he would know what to do.

But his younger brother was at work and Anna Mae was at the hospital doing her job. Amos rubbed a grubby hand over his face, then did what he always did when he was upset. He closed his eyes and prayed.

“Amos . . .”

His father’s voice sounded a little louder than a whisper. Yet Amos didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t until he knew what to do. Stop the bleeding.

He opened his eyes, then yanked off his shirt. He moved his father’s hands away from his leg.

“Don’t,” his daed said. “It’s bad, sohn.”

But Amos ignored him as he looked down at the ripped fabric of his father’s work pants. His thoughts were clear now, his movements automatic. The blood had soaked through his father’s pants, and Amos saw part of an open wound through the torn material. His stomach steadied as he wrapped his shirt around Daed’s shin, then tied the fabric tightly. “Stop the bleeding . . . Stop the bleeding.” He didn’t understand how tying the shirt over his father’s leg would work; he only knew that it would. He swooped Daed up into his arms and hurried across the field, through the backyard, and into the house.

“Judith!” Amos cried out for his stepmother as he ran into the kitchen.

Judith was mopping the floor and she looked up from her work. “Goodness, Amos, what’s—” Her face turned the color of new fallen snow. “Dear Gott.” She dropped the mop and went to Amos. “What happened?”

“Accident,” was all Amos could say.

“Lay him on the table,” she said, her voice calmer than Amos thought possible.

Amos did as he was told. He always tried to follow directions the best he could. He set his father on the polished oak table, then stepped back and let his stepmother take over. Amos’s chest moved up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat fell into his eyes, but he couldn’t stop looking at his father. Judith untied Amos’s shirt from around Daed’s leg.

“You don’t want to be here, Amos.” Judith sounded different now. Worried. Afraid. Judith was never afraid. Amos’s thoughts became jumbled and confused again. She sounded like Amos felt inside.

“I’m okay . . . I’m okay.” Amos lifted his chin and refused to move. He was twenty-eight years old. Time for him to be a man and not a scared kin. “I can help.”

“Grab some towels out of the drawer.” Judith winced at the sound of Daed’s moan. “And a bowl. Fill it with water.”

Amos did what Judith told him to do, then he heard her speak to Daed in that soft voice that always made his father smile.

“I’m here, David,” she said. “Everything will be all right.”

When Amos turned around, the bowl of water in his hands and the kitchen towels over his shoulder, he saw Judith brush his father’s damp hair off his forehead. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Daed. She loved him too much.

He handed the bowl to her and she set it on the table. “I need scissors,” she said. “I’ve got to cut off the leg of his pants.”

Amos took the edge of his father’s pants leg and ripped it up the seam. That would be faster than getting scissors. But when he saw his father’s bleeding leg, Amos’s head felt like air again.

“Amos?”

The room turned like a merry-go-round. He used to ride those at the park when he was younger. It had been fun. But the spinning wasn’t fun now.

“It’s all right, Amos,” Judith said. “You did a gut job. I don’t need yer help anymore.”

“Will Daed be okay?”

Judith nodded. “Ya. But why don’t you geh outside and pray for him anyway?”

“Okay. I’ll pray for him . . . I’ll pray for him.” He hurried out of the kitchen and into the driveway. His stomach hurt and he felt like he had the flu. He bent over and put his hands on his legs. “Don’t throw up . . . Don’t throw up . . .”

“A-are y-you o-okay?”

Surprised, he lifted his head at the nice voice. A girl’s voice. No, a woman’s voice. And although he was always forgetting things, he recognized her right away. She was Judith’s niece. He had met her at his daed’s wedding. She must be here for her visit. Judith had said she was coming. Suddenly his stomach didn’t hurt as much. “Hello,” he said, standing up. “Hello, Dinah Keim.”