As Ruth stood in front of Abe’s kitchen window, watching Anna and Esta play a game of hide-and-seek, she reflected on the past. She could still remember how it used to be when she and her sisters played hide-and-seek as children. Playing childhood games used to make her happy whenever she felt sad. Now, thanks to her depression, very little made her laugh. Even her trip to Millersburg with Aunt Rosemary hadn’t helped much, although she did feel comfortable in the woman’s company.
Aunt Rosemary had seemed disappointed that Dad wasn’t in his shop when they’d returned home that day. She’d told Ruth she would return in a few days and try again. The woman obviously wasn’t one to give up easily. The fact that she’d been able to talk Ruth into taking the job as Abe’s maid was a good indication of her ability to make people do things they didn’t want to do. Maybe in time, she would get through to Dad.
Ruth moved away from the window and over to the door. Stepping outside, she took a seat on the porch swing to better watch the children. Anna had come home with Esta after school so the girls could play, and soon after their arrival, they’d initiated the game of hide-and-seek with Esta’s siblings. All but Gideon. He kept to himself most of the time and had gone to the barn as soon as he’d arrived home from school.
Ruth’s eyes drifted shut as she thought about how well things had gone on her first day working for Abe. She had arrived early this morning in time to feed the children breakfast and make the older ones’ lunches for school. After breakfast, Abe had gone to his harness shop. Soon after that, Gideon, Josh, Esta, and Willis had headed for school. Ruth spent the rest of the morning washing clothes, baking bread, and keeping an eye on Owen and Molly.
She reflected on how warm and cuddly Molly had felt as she’d held the little golden-haired girl in her arms and rocked her to sleep after lunch. Molly had called her Mammi before she’d fallen asleep, and it had touched Ruth’s heart to the very core. If only I was her mammi, she thought. I’d give most anything to have a child of my own.
“Here I come, ready or not!”
Ruth’s eyes snapped open, and she saw Willis zip past the porch, obviously on his way to seek out the hiding places of the other children. A few minutes later, she heard giggling and figured one of the girls had probably hidden under the porch.
She yawned and was on the verge of drifting off again when a shrill scream jolted her fully awake.
With her heart pounding like a herd of stampeding horses, Ruth jumped off the swing and dashed into the yard. There lay Willis, holding his nose and whimpering. She dropped to the ground beside the boy. “What happened?”
“I was chasin’ after Josh and run into the tree.” Willis removed his hands, and Ruth gasped when she saw blood oozing from his nose.
She pulled out the handkerchief tucked inside the band of her choring apron and covered the boy’s nose with it. “Come inside so I can get that bleeding stopped,” she said, helping him to his feet.
The other children came out of their hiding places and followed Ruth and Willis into the kitchen.
“Is he gonna be all right?” Esta asked as Ruth seated Willis on a chair and placed a small bag of ice against the side of his nose.
“His naas doesn’t appear to be broken,” Ruth said. “Once we get the bleeding stopped, he should be fine.”
“My nose bled like that once,” Anna said, leaning over to stare at Willis’s nose. “It was when I was livin’ with Poppy and Grammy Davis. It happened ‘cause I had a bad cold and blew too hard. Poppy soaked a piece of cotton in vinegar and put it inside my nose.”
“Eww.” Esta puckered her lips. “That must have stung.”
“It did. But it made the bleeding stop real quick.” Anna looked up at Ruth. “Are you gonna put vinegar in Willis’s nose?”
“I hope the ice will do the trick.” Ruth motioned to the plate of peanut butter cookies sitting on the counter. “Why don’t you all help yourselves to a couple of cookies and go back outside to play?”
“What about Willis?” Owen wanted to know.
“He’ll stay with me until his nose stops bleeding. Then he can have some cookies.”
The children each grabbed a handful of cookies and tromped out the door.
Several minutes later, Abe stepped into the room. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Josh told me Willis had a run-in with a tree.”
“Jah, he did.” Ruth placed her hand on Willis’s shoulder. “He was looking for one of the others in a game of hide-and-seek when it happened.”
Abe knelt on the floor in front of Willis and touched the boy’s knee. “You gonna be all right, boy?”
Willis nodded, although a few tears trickled down his cheeks.
“The bleeding’s probably stopped by now,” Ruth said, removing the ice bag to take a look. “Jah, it seems to be fine.” She extended the plate of cookies to Willis. “Why don’t you take a couple of these and go sit on the porch? No playing or running around, though.”
Willis snatched up three cookies and grinned at her. “I’ll sit real still; I promise.”
“Good thing he’s got youth on his side,” Abe said when Willis had left the kitchen. “If that had happened to me, I’d probably be bleeding like a stuck pig.”
Ruth smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d been able to offer since Martin’s death. “Would you like a cookie?” she asked.
He took a seat at the table. “Danki. They look good.”
“I brought them from home,” she said, sitting in the chair across from him. “My mamm made them on Saturday.”
Abe chomped one down and smacked his lips. “They taste as good as they look. Only thing that might make ‘em better would be a glass of cold milk for dunking.”
“You sound like my daed. He’s always got to have milk to go with his cookies.” Ruth started to rise. “I’ll get you a glass.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I can fetch it.” Abe hopped up. “Would you like one, too?”
“I believe I would.”
Abe was back soon with two glasses and a jug of milk.
“Danki,” she said when he handed her a glass.
“How’d everything go here at the house today?” Abe asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Did you have any problems?”
“Except for Willis’s little accident with the tree, everything went well.”
“Glad to hear it.” Abe leaned his elbows on the table. “If you ever remarry, I think you’ll make a fine mudder.”
Ruth dropped her gaze to the table. “I thought you knew that I can’t have any children.” She drew in a quick breath, hoping to keep her emotions in check. She would not allow herself to break down in front of Abe, no matter how much her heart might be breaking.
Abe slapped the side of his head. “Ach, what a dummkopp I am. I did know about your injuries and the surgery you had; I just wasn’t thinking.”
Ruth lifted her gaze to meet his. “I’m sure you’ve had a lot on your mind, especially with Sue moving back home.”
“It’s still no excuse. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Even if I could have children, I doubt I would ever remarry,” Ruth said as a feeling of bitterness threatened to choke her.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think I could ever love anyone the way I loved Martin.”
“I know what you mean. I doubt there’s anyone who could fill the place in my heart left by Alma.” Abe grunted and pushed his chair aside. “Think I’ll go out to the barn and see if Gideon’s done all his chores.”
Ruth nodded. “I’d better check on Willis. Then I’ll get supper started.”
“What are we having?” Abe asked as he reached the door.
“Chicken and dumplings.”
“Sounds good. That’s one of my favorites.”
When the door closed behind Abe, Ruth put their glasses and the cookie plate in the sink. She glanced out the window and saw Abe in the yard, tossing a ball for Esta’s dog to fetch.
A sense of despair came over her, and she nearly doubled over with the pain. I’ll never know the joy of watching my husband laugh and play with our kinner. I’ll never know love again.