Tessa squirmed beneath her quilt, trying to find a position that would facilitate sleep. So much had happened that day she didn’t know how to make sense of it all.
Instead of focusing on the upsetting events she couldn’t control and problems she couldn’t solve, she tried to reflect only on the good parts of the day. Such as the moment when Mercy laughed, and especially the moment after that, when she and Turner embraced. As if those two occurrences weren’t splendid enough, there was a third happening in the sequence—the moment when Turner’s face was so close to hers, and his eyes were filled with such yearning, Tessa had been certain he was about to kiss her. The mere thought of his lips on hers made her catch her breath; if he had actually kissed her, she probably would have fainted from bliss.
Of course, he hadn’t actually kissed her. They hadn’t actually found Jacqueline. And she was nowhere near coming up with a reason strong enough to convince her parents she ought to stay in Willow Creek.
As her thoughts looped back to the dilemmas she and Turner were facing, Tessa allowed herself to consider the possibility it might be a long time before he found his sister; worse, he might never locate her. Either way, Turner eventually would have to tell his family and the community about the baby. Rhoda or Ruby might care for Mercy on occasion, but who was better suited to be her full-time nanny than Tessa? She didn’t have to divide her attentions between other familial responsibilities like they did. Surely her parents would allow her to remain in Willow Creek to care for a baby who was essentially orphaned, wouldn’t they? Just as she drifted into sleep, Tessa envisioned another possibility: Turner would ask to marry her and the two of them would raise Mercy together as their own...
But in the bright sunlight of a new day, Tessa realized how preposterous her wish was. When Turner knocked on her door, his forehead was ridged with worry lines and Tessa suspected romance was the last thing on his mind, much less marriage.
“Is it okay if I’m a little late collecting Mercy tonight?” he asked.
“Absolutely. I’d also be happy to keep her overnight again if that would be more helpful.”
“Denki, but that’s not necessary. I only need you to watch her so I can stop by the convenience store. I want to give Artie a note for Jacqueline in case she shows up there for some reason.”
While Tessa was glad Turner was demonstrating renewed determination to find his sister, she was dubious about his plan. Since Charlotte and Skylar indicated Jacqueline was wrestling with other types of shame, Tessa imagined the girl would also be too embarrassed to return to the store after being fired. Besides, Artie said payday was one day and one day only. So what reason would Jacqueline have to go back there? But Tessa supposed anything was possible; besides, Turner needed as much encouragement as he could get, so she held her tongue.
Turner seemed to know what she was thinking. “Don’t worry about me getting my hopes up,” he said. “I don’t believe she’s going to visit the store, either, but I’ll feel better if I do something instead of just waiting until it’s time to go to the bus depot again.”
“Why would you assume I’m worried? I’m glad you’re keeping your hopes up!” Tessa protested.
This time it was a smile that caused Turner’s forehead to wrinkle. “You didn’t say you were worried, but you were thinking it,” he bantered. “I’m getting better at reading your expressions, Tessa.”
With Turner gazing at her like that with his big, soulful eyes, Tessa completely lost her train of thought and she couldn’t come up with a witty response.
Fortunately, Mercy butted in. “Ah-ah-ah-ah.”
“Jah, we see you. We know you like to be the center of conversation,” Tessa said with a laugh and Mercy squawked in response. Glancing back up at Turner, Tessa asked, “Would you like to eat supper here tonight? I have all the makings for stew. I can let it simmer, so it won’t matter what time you arrive.”
Turner accepted her invitation, and then cupped Mercy’s fat cheeks in one hand and kissed the top of her head good-bye. After he left, Tessa carried the baby into the parlor, where she pointed out the window at the tree branches swaying in the wind and the sun dappling the frozen ground with shadows. Tessa neglected her housework to hold, play with and sing to Mercy for the rest of the morning.
“There will always be floors to sweep and windows to wash,” she told the baby, “but you and I won’t always be togeth—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence aloud. If Turner could keep his hopes up about his situation, she could keep her hopes up about hers.
Later, when she’d put Mercy down for her afternoon nap, Tessa chopped vegetables and cut the meat for the stew. She was cleaning up when she suddenly remembered Katie was supposed to visit her the following night for supper and it was Tessa’s turn to cook. But I told Turner I’d go with him to the bus depot, she fretted. She’d have to go tell Katie tonight she needed to cancel. Since it probably would be late when Turner returned, perhaps he’d offer to give her a ride to Katie’s house after supper. Tessa smiled at the thought; traveling side by side with Turner beneath the moonlight was so romantic, no matter their destination. But what excuse would she give her sister for canceling? Then she remembered Katie had an appointment with the doctor on Wednesday afternoon; surely she was eager to talk to her sister privately about the outcome. Tessa didn’t want to hurt Katie’s feelings, nor did she want to let Turner down. What was she going to do?
After brooding about it through the rest of her household chores, Tessa realized she’d have to tell Turner about the predicament. Meanwhile, there was nothing she could do now except to pray, and once she did, she felt so reinvigorated she decided to bake a pan of lemon squares. This might be one of his last opportunities to taste them. Maybe he’d be so pleased she took the time to make her specialty dessert for him, he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her.
“Ach!” she said aloud. “I’m becoming more like my mamm every day!”
“Rhoda called on us early this morning to say Patrick has the stomach bug and he won’t be here today,” Mark said after removing his hat and hanging up his coat. “I guess it wasn’t his mother-in-law’s cooking making his belly ache yesterday after all.”
“Jah. He was well enough to be out and about last night, so that means the worst of it probably hit him during the early morning hours,” Turner said, distracted by the paperwork mounting on the desk in the corner of the shop.
“What were you two doing out and about last night?” Mark asked.
Turner jerked his head up. What did Mark mean, “you two?” Had he seen Tessa and Turner on the road? Aloud he asked, “What?”
“You just said Patrick was out and about last night. Where did the two of you go?”
Turner exhaled. “Nowhere. Not together, anyway. I crossed paths with him at the Englisch store in Highland Springs.”
Dodging questions, hiding Mercy and trying to outpace Jacqueline’s movements was wearing Turner out. He wondered if it was time to tell his brothers about the situation. Not only for his sake, but because they probably didn’t know what to make of his ups and downs and he owed them an explanation for his recent moodiness. But, illogical as it was, he felt if he didn’t tell them, it would mean he hadn’t given up hope—hope that Jacqueline would return and hope that Tessa would be able to stay in Willow Creek. For a fleeting moment he again allowed himself to think of courting her...
“Did you hear me?” Patrick questioned loudly.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if you want me to make the wheel delivery tomorrow morning.”
“Neh, I’ll do it,” Turner replied. “And unless any new repairs kumme in this afternoon, let’s get this order finished and then you can call it a day. I’ll stay here and catch up on the accounting.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” Turner chuckled. “I haven’t been that demanding lately, have I? Neh, don’t answer that. Just leave early and take your wife out to supper. You deserve a break and Ruby does, too.”
Mark left at three thirty and Turner took advantage of the hushed environment to tackle the paperwork he’d put off. His progress was slow, however, and he barely made a dent in it before it was time to head to the convenience store. Tearing a piece of paper from a pad, he wrote:
Dear Jacqueline,
If you are planning to leave the area, I’d urge you to reconsider. You didn’t have a choice about losing your parents, but you do have a choice about your daughter losing her mother. Mercy needs you. God forgives you. And Patrick, Mark and I love you. We’ll work things out together.
Please come back to us.
Your brother,
Turner
He folded the sheet thrice and slid it into an envelope, which he sealed. Then he hitched the horse to the buggy and journeyed to Highland Springs, arriving in the lot at the same time Artie was parking his car.
The stocky man held his hands up. “She didn’t come in for her pay, so I haven’t seen her,” he stated gruffly before Turner had a chance to greet him.
“I know. I’m here to ask if you’ll give her this if she does stop by.” Turner extended the envelope.
Artie shook his head but accepted the letter. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” he asked.
“Neh. Not yet,” Turner answered. Although sometimes I sure feel like it.
Artie galumphed into the store and Turner returned to his buggy. Although he hadn’t performed much physical labor in the shop that day, Turner was tuckered out. At least he had Tessa’s and Mercy’s smiles to anticipate seeing at the end of his trip. But when he sat down to share Tessa’s savory stew with her, her eyes appeared lusterless and she was quieter than usual.
“Patrick was out sick today,” Turner said conversationally toward the end of their meal. “He came down with the stomach flu. I’m relieved you and Mercy haven’t caught it.”
“I guess that’s one gut thing about being so isolated—we’re not exposed to as many germs,” Tessa replied as she rose to take their plates to the sink.
So, was that what was wrong? Was she tiring of being alone in the house with the baby all day?
“Is something on your mind?” he finally asked, holding Mercy while Tessa brought dessert to the table. She paused in the middle of pulling back the tinfoil covering the pan.
“Jah, I’m afraid there is.” She reminded him that earlier in the week she’d agreed to meet with Katie for supper on Friday. “She’s going to arrive at five and she usually only stays for an hour or an hour and a half at most. But if she doesn’t leave until six thirty, that will be cutting it pretty close for us to get to the depot in time. I think I should cancel our supper altogether, but I don’t know what excuse to give her.”
Thinking it would be unfair for Tessa to change the plans she’d made with her sister so he could keep plans he’d made concerning his sister, Turner said, “Neh, don’t cancel your supper. As long as Katie leaves by quarter of seven, we’ll have time to spare. In fact, even if we encounter a brief delay on the road after that, we’ll be fine. But if your sister stays longer than expected and you can’t kumme, Mercy and I will make the trip by ourselves.”
“I don’t know.” Tessa was biting her lower lip. “Are you sure about this?”
“It’s all settled.” Turner wiped Mercy’s nose with a napkin. “So stop looking so concerned. For a minute I thought you were going to tell me something awful had happened. Like that you’d burned dessert.”
Tessa’s countenance lifted noticeably and a mischievous twinkle lit her eyes. “Neh, lemon bars are the one thing I rarely burn,” she said as she cut a large piece for him. “But I’m warning you—they’re extra lemony, so they’ll make your lips pucker.”
She blushed as soon as she said the words, as if she’d just had the same thought he did—the thought that had nothing to do with lemons, but everything to do with lips.
As Mercy slept on Friday afternoon, Tessa surveyed the food in her cupboards and icebox. She wanted to make beef stroganoff, but she discovered she didn’t have any noodles in the pantry—that was a switch! She figured she could serve the stroganoff over mashed potatoes instead, until she found she didn’t have any potatoes, either. She realized she had little choice but to make a haystack supper, which essentially consisted of seasoning whatever meat and veggies she had on hand and serving them over a layer of crushed crackers. Then she’d top the “haystack” with salsa and cheese. Not the fanciest meal she’d ever prepared, but Katie wouldn’t mind.
When she finished chopping onions, she melted a thick pat of butter in a pan and added the onions to it. As she worked, she considered whether or not she should tell Katie about the letter from their mother. On the one hand, she thought it was only fair to prepare her sister for the probability Tessa had to return home. On the other hand, if Katie confided the doctor confirmed she was with child, Tessa didn’t want to dampen her sister’s joyful news. Besides, there was still time to think of some way to convince her parents she needed to stay in Willow Creek, wasn’t there?
Tessa sighed heavily. She wouldn’t tell her sister tonight, but she knew she ought to give Joseph the courtesy of telling him tomorrow—if he didn’t fire her first. For the fourth time that day, tears rolled down Tessa’s cheeks. She reflexively lifted her hand to brush them away and the onion juice on her fingers stung her eyes, causing her to weep harder. She was in the bathroom washing her face when Mercy began crying in the bedroom. The baby had soaked right through her clothes and the bedding was wet, too. Tessa knew she wouldn’t have time to bathe her before Turner arrived to pick her up, so she used warm water and a cloth to clean her as well as she could. Mercy was not pleased.
“Uh-oh, Mercy,” she said in a singsong voice, trying to mollify her. “It looks like we’re out of clean windle. I need to dash to the basement and get a fresh one, okay? I’ll be right back, little haws.”
But Mercy was screaming so loudly Tessa didn’t want to put her down. Because the diapers were hung so high she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach them, Tessa knew she wouldn’t be able to unclasp them from the rope while holding Mercy. Instead, she one-handedly fished through the tote bag she used to carry Mercy’s belongings.
“Sh-sh-sh,” she said, bouncing Mercy, but the baby’s cries escalated. Exasperated, Tessa dumped the tote over so she could see at a glance whether it contained any diapers. Fortunately, there was one left. As Tessa finished changing Mercy, she smelled something burning and she tore into the kitchen. Nothing was aflame but the onions were blackened and smoking in the pan. Careful to angle Mercy away from the burner, Tessa turned off the gas. At that very moment, Turner knocked.
“Kumme in,” she shouted louder than she intended as she rinsed the pan under the tap. A cloud of steam rose around her, causing her eyes to water even more.
“Here, let me help you,” Turner said when he entered, lifting Mercy from her arms.
“Denki.” Tessa excused herself to go into the washroom, where she washed her face a second time. I’m a wreck, she thought as the mirror reflected her pink nostrils, blotchy cheeks and mussed hair. At that moment, she wished Katie wasn’t coming over and Mercy and Turner would just leave already. She would have preferred to spend the evening taking a hot bath, eating a store-bought pizza she heated in the oven and working on her final Valentine’s Day cards.
Instead, she dried her eyes and took a deep breath. When Tessa returned to the kitchen, she found Mercy cooing to Turner. That little scamp! she thought wryly.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “One minute I was chopping onions and the next minute...” She spread her arms to indicate the chaos.
“You must be tired,” Turner replied. “Even if Katie leaves in time, are you sure you want to kumme with me tonight? I could go alone. It might be better if you stayed here with Mercy anyway. I can see her tooth is almost breaking through. It might make her cross.”
“Neh!” Tessa answered sharply. She felt guilty for thinking it, but at that moment she decided if she couldn’t stay home alone, she didn’t want to stay home at all: she needed to get out of the house. “We made our plans and we should stick to them. I’ll meet you at your house by six forty-five at the latest—if I don’t, it means Katie is still here and you and Mercy should leave without me.”
Turner seemed to be scrutinizing her and he scratched the back of his head, but he didn’t argue. As soon as he and Mercy left, Tessa regretted the tone she’d taken. Then she walked into the parlor and saw the contents of the tote strewn across the floor and she became irritable all over again. First because she’d made a mess and second because Turner had neglected to ask for the tote, which contained items he’d probably need for Mercy during the next couple of hours. “Do I always have to be the one to remember everything?” Tessa grumbled.
She returned Mercy’s belongings to the bag and then scoured the kitchen, washroom and parlor twice to be absolutely sure her sister wouldn’t find any trace of Mercy. Then she crammed the bag under Katie’s bed since Katie would never have reason to look under there. As long as she was on her knees, Tessa figured she’d better pray; otherwise, she was likely to snap at Katie just as she’d snapped at Turner.
When she was done asking the Lord for grace, as well as for Jacqueline to arrive at the bus depot that night, Tessa stood up. But Katie’s bed looked so inviting she thought she’d steal a fifteen-minute catnap before starting supper—rather, before starting it a second time. A little sleep and I’ll be as fresh as a daisy, she thought as her head sunk into the pillow.
The next thing she knew, someone was pounding on the door. She sat up, dazed. Her sister usually tapped the door twice and then walked right in. Had Turner come back for the tote bag? Tessa hoped not: she could only imagine how disheveled she appeared. Trying to pin her prayer kapp into place, she swung her legs over the bed and scurried toward the door. The pounding continued and then she heard footsteps scurrying from the porch; Turner probably was afraid of being caught at her house by Katie, so he didn’t want to wait any longer.
“Don’t go. I’m here,” she announced, swinging the door open. But he’d already left. She took a step out onto the porch. “Turner!” she called, just as she glimpsed movement from the corner of her eye.
“Surprise!” a chorus of voices shouted. Suddenly several people were singing “Happy Birthday” to her.
Tessa stayed frozen where she was, one foot inside the house, one foot outside. I must be dreaming, she thought. This can’t really be happening.
But sure enough, when they’d finished singing, Katie, Mason, Faith, Hunter, Anna, Fletcher and, last but not least, Jonah gathered around her, laughing at what Tessa knew was the stunned expression on her face. She managed to squeak out the words, “Denki, everyone, but my birthday isn’t until next Friday.”
“We wanted to surprise you by celebrating early. And it looks like we did!” Katie was practically warbling with delight.
“Are you going to invite us in or are you just going to stand there gawking?” Mason ribbed and Tessa moved to the side to let them pass.
Once indoors, Katie directed the men into the parlor and then she, Anna and Faith bustled around the kitchen, uncovering the dishes they’d prepared and pulling plates from the cupboards. Tessa absentmindedly washed the burned onions from the pan, trying to surmise a reason they had to leave by six forty-five. She couldn’t. It would be too insulting, too ungrateful. Turner was going to have to go to the depot without her, and he was going to have to bring Mercy with him. But her gums are sore. She needs me to comfort her and Turner does, too, Tessa thought, and a tear trickled down her cheek. She felt as if she’d abandoned them both.
“The birthday maedel needs to freshen up,” she said. Katie followed her as she darted to her room.
While Tessa let her hair down to brush it, Katie confessed. “I...I got a letter from Mamm and I know you did, too.”
Tessa nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“That’s why I wanted to have a party now, instead of next week. It’s kind of a last-ditch attempt to help you get to know Jonah.”
Tessa shook her head. “It’s too late for that,” she said as she gathered her hair into a bun. “I think it’s time to give up.”
“Neh, not yet. I’m going to tell Mamm she has to let you stay here because next fall Willow Creek will be short a teacher again. If you have a suitor and a job, she’s sure to change her mind.”
Tessa clapped her hand over her open mouth. Willow Creek would need a new teacher? That could mean only one thing: Katie would be resigning because she was with child. Tessa had been so shocked by the surprise party she completely forgot to ask about Katie’s doctor appointment.
“Katie! What a blessing!” she exclaimed and encircled her sister with her arms. Tessa doubted their mother would change her mind, even if Tessa did wish to become the new teacher and Jonah wanted to walk out with her. But for Katie’s sake she said, “Denki for the party. And, who knows, maybe your plan will work.”
Katie beamed. “Great. But if you’re going to capture Jonah’s attention, you might want to put on another dress first. Otherwise he’ll be focused on that blotch on your shoulder instead of your winning smile.”
Tessa peered sideways at her shoulder, which was damp with Mercy’s drool. Her arms suddenly ached with loneliness. She could have started weeping again but her eyes were already puffy enough, so instead she changed her dress and then joined the others in celebration.
Turner was getting nervous. It was six thirty. He couldn’t wait any longer to hitch his horse to the buggy; maybe by the time he was finished, Tessa would be walking up the lane. He bundled Mercy and carried her to the stable in the basket, which he secured in the back of the buggy and then hitched the horse. Still no Tessa. He waited a few more minutes, figuring he could guide the horse into a swift trot if necessary. He had really hoped Tessa would be able to accompany him, but when he feared he could wait no longer, he started down the lane.
As he approached the daadi haus, Turner noticed lamps shining from several windows. Then he spotted Katie and Mason’s buggy secured to the hitching post he and his brothers built primarily for Katie and Tessa’s use back when they still had a horse. I wonder why Katie hasn’t left, Turner mused. Of all evenings, it had to be tonight that she chose to stay late.
He sighed as Mercy fussed behind him. He assumed she was irritable because her gums hurt, but without Tessa’s input, he couldn’t be certain. He hoped once they were on the main road, the motion of the buggy would calm her. He was nearing the end of the lane when he spied a buggy hitched to the fence straight ahead, blocking his way. He brought his horse to an abrupt stop. Who would have been so rude as to block the lane and so reckless as to tie a horse to a flimsy fence railing instead of to the hitching post?
Then it dawned on him: whoever was in his way was a guest at Tessa’s house. It was probably one of the Fishers’ relatives or their friends from out of state joining them for supper, because anyone local would have known the lane was shared by both Turner and Tessa; it wasn’t meant for Tessa’s use alone. Now what was he going to do? Time was of the essence. He couldn’t leave Mercy alone in the dark buggy at the end of the lane, nor could he risk Tessa’s guests seeing her. Since fencing lined both sides of the narrow lane, there wasn’t enough room at this particular juncture to turn the buggy around. So he directed his horse to walk backward toward the daadi haus.
It was a slow process, but when he arrived at a spot close enough for him to keep an eye on the buggy, he jumped out of the carriage and bound up the porch steps. He repeatedly rapped the door. A moment later, Tessa appeared.
“Turner, you’re still here! What’s wrong?” she asked in a surprised voice. “Is Mercy—”
“Hush!” He put his fingers to his lips. What was she thinking? Her guests could have heard her.
“Who is it, Tessa?” Katie asked over Tessa’s shoulder. “Oh, gut, it’s Turner. I haven’t seen you for a long time. Please, kumme join our party. We were just about to serve cake. Faith Schwartz baked it, so you know it will be appenditlich.”
“Neh, I can’t,” he gruffly declined. “There’s somewhere I need to be and one of your guests is blocking the lane.”
“Ach, that must be Jonah’s buggy. I’ll get him.”
When Katie left the room, Tessa hurriedly whispered, “I’m so sorry I can’t go with you. You see, my sis—”
Turner cut her off. “No need to explain, but tell Jonah—” Turner practically spat out Jonah’s name “—to hurry it up. I’ll be waiting outside.” Over his shoulder he added, “And in the future, I don’t ever want to find a horse hitched to the fence again.”
Turner wasn’t angry simply because the buggy was blocking his way; he was also miffed because the fence wasn’t at the correct height to tether a horse. The animal could become agitated and try to rear, snapping the wooden rail and injuring itself.
Furthermore, he was piqued Tessa was hosting a party when she’d promised to accompany him to the depot. He knew she wouldn’t have deliberately misled him about her plans, so he suspected she’d made the party arrangements long ago and had since forgotten about them. Even so, she knew how important it was for him to get to the depot in time. She should have made doubly sure there were no obstacles to slow him down. Better yet, she shouldn’t have invited a guest who was so irresponsible and inconsiderate he’d tie his horse to a fence railing unsuited for hitching purposes.
A very tall young man jounced past his buggy. Jonah, no doubt. Turner couldn’t help but speculate about whether he was also at Tessa’s the night the group played Cut The Pie. It seemed to take him forever to reposition his horse and buggy, but once the lane was finally clear, Turner wasted no time hurrying past him and onto the main road.
Turner’s horse accelerated into a swift gallop and within minutes, Mercy’s whining subsided. He knew without looking at her she’d fallen asleep. Turner’s jaw ached but he pleaded aloud with the Lord to deliver him to the depot on time or else to delay the bus’s departure.
When they arrived, he rapidly but securely hitched his horse and lifted Mercy from her basket. She stirred but didn’t wake. He clutched her to his chest with both arms to shield her from the cold and sprinted to the bus depot.
Panting, he asked the ticket booth attendant, “Has the seven-thirty-eight bus to Philadelphia left yet?”
“Yes, sir. It departed right on time. You missed it by two minutes.”
Groaning, Turner shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt as if the room was tilting. He couldn’t fall over, not with Mercy in his arms. Steadying himself against the ledge of the ticket counter, he asked, “Did you notice if a teenage girl boarded it? She would have had long dark hair and she was probably traveling alone. She’s slim and about this tall.” Turner indicated the height of his shoulder.
“I see so many passengers after a while they start to look alike,” the attendant said. “But, yes, there might have been someone matching that description who boarded the bus. I only remember her because she counted out her change down to her last dime in order to purchase the ticket. She must have been awfully desperate to get away from here.”
Turner staggered backward as if he’d been shoved. His voice reverberated in the empty room as he repeatedly moaned, “Neh, neh, neh!”
Jolted awake, Mercy raised her voice, too, so Turner returned with her to the buggy, where he tucked her into the basket as she continued to holler. He wanted to holler, too. His disappointment this time was threefold: he was disappointed in his sister, disappointed in Tessa and, dare he think it, disappointed in God. It was time to give up searching and praying he’d find Jacqueline, and it was definitely time to stop depending on Tessa or imagining any kind of romantic future with her. I’m all done, he thought and headed for home.