More than a week after Mari became ill, she was feeling better and it was hard to keep her quiet and in bed. Bethany brought the armchair into the kitchen from the front room in the mornings so Mari could rest comfortably while Bethany and Rose worked. She had also taken Mari’s blankets out to the backyard in the afternoons so she could rest in the shade of the big tree by the lane, where Jenny’s doghouse stood. The days were long and tedious since Mari wanted to play and be active, but quickly grew tired.
The weather didn’t cooperate, either. After the brief respite after the storm the week before, the hot weather increased again until every day was sweltering, and each night was a sweaty, uncomfortable battle to sleep. Meanwhile, Rose and Bethany were working hard to can the garden’s produce. They needed to can as much as they could to survive the winter.
Today they were canning green beans, working in the kitchen while Mari sat in her chair, looking at the pictures in her book.
“From Martha’s last letter, it sounds like their gardens are doing better this year.”
Bethany snapped the end of a green bean and wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. “Have they gotten rain?”
“She said the community got together and drilled a new well, much deeper than any the farmers had dug. Folks can get water from there for their gardens and homes. She says it’s a blessing.”
Bethany couldn’t imagine the work involved in carrying water from a community well. She was thankful for her kitchen sink and pump. “What would they do if they hadn’t dug a deeper well?”
“What we did last year. We made do. I would use water for cooking, then let it cool and use that water for cleaning. Then I would water the plants with it. I tried to make every bucket serve for at least three jobs.”
“But you had a good well. Andrew said that some of them were going dry.”
Rose nodded. “My neighbor’s well gave out. They packed up and moved back east. To Ohio, I think they said. They couldn’t sell their farm, so they just left it.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Mari had fallen asleep, her book still open in her lap.
“Do you think Martha will want to move back here?” Bethany reached for another handful of beans.
“I’m afraid her mother wouldn’t be able to make the trip.”
“But we have water here, and plenty of food. Even if the garden isn’t doing as well as other years, we’ll still be able to fill the cellar for the winter. I hate to think of them working so hard.”
Rose snapped the remaining beans in her hand and took the last handful from the bowl. “Martha has talked about moving back here, but her mother is crippled and confined to her bed. She hasn’t even gone to church services for the last year. Martha is afraid the long train ride might be too much for her.”
While Rose examined the canning jars, making sure there were no cracks or chips in them, Bethany poured the green beans into a pot of boiling water. Steam rose around her face, making the hot kitchen even hotter. Bethany watched the clock. The beans needed to cook for five minutes, then they would pack the jars. They needed to work quickly so the jars would stay sterile.
Once the beans were in the jars, Bethany shut the stove dampers and they moved to the shady front porch. Bethany carried Mari, along with her blankets, and set her on the swing, while Rose sat on the old rocker. Bethany sat on the end of the swing next to Mari, moving it gently with her foot.
“I hope Daed and the boys are doing all right today.”
“Why?” Rose’s voice was sharp.
“It’s Thursday. You usually make dinner for them on Thursdays, don’t you?” Bethany pushed with her foot again. “You missed going over there on Monday, too. Did they do their own laundry?”
Rose shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. Your father is so stubborn, he could probably make the clothes come clean by just glaring at them.”
Bethany had to laugh. She had seen Daed’s glare often enough. “I think you’re right about that.”
“It’s nice and cool out here now,” Rose said. “Do you think this afternoon will be as hot as yesterday?”
“I think so. It’s a hot summer for sure, isn’t it?”
“Where did Andrew go so early this morning?”
“He said he had some work to do for the doctor, to pay for his visit here.”
Rose was quiet, her head leaning on the back of the rocker. Bethany watched Mari sleep on the swing, then glanced at Rose. The older woman’s eyes were closed, too, and she was snoring quietly. Bethany propped her elbow on the end of the swing and leaned her head on her hand. All around her, insects buzzed in the grasses and in the trees. A slight breeze blew, making the shady porch pleasant, but Rose was right. It would soon be so hot they wouldn’t want to do any work. Today was the day to clean the upstairs, but Bethany was tempted to let it go this week. No one would notice, especially since they only went upstairs late at night after the rooms had a chance to cool down.
Just as Bethany decided that she must at least change the bedsheets and run the dust mop, Daed came up the lane from the road. When Bethany waved, he walked across the grass toward them.
“How is Mari this morning?” Daed kept his voice low when he saw her sleeping on the swing, but Rose opened her eyes.
“She’s doing much better,” Bethany said. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since Mari got sick.”
Daed put one foot on the porch step and ran his fingers through his beard. “I’d be much better if Aaron wasn’t cooking dinner today.”
“Aaron?” Bethany wrinkled her nose, remembering the smell of the scorched green beans the last time he had tried to cook.
“No one else volunteered, so we’re stuck with him.”
Bethany looked from Daed to Rose, and then back to Daed. Rose stared at the porch railing, ignoring Daed. He didn’t look at her, either, but went on talking.
“I know the boys have appreciated the meals Rose has fixed for them over the past few weeks. Did you know she makes a creamed chicken dish that we can’t get enough of? How many times have the boys asked for that one again?”
This time he looked at Rose, but she only crossed her arms.
“I know John has asked at least three times.”
“Humph. It was only twice.” Rose still didn’t look at him.
“And Nathaniel has already prepared the chicken. He even took the feathers off.”
Rose didn’t answer. Bethany wondered if she should take Mari into the house and let these two argue without her.
“And James picked the last of the peas and shelled them. Fresh buttered peas is one of his favorites.”
“At least he has a roof over his head. A place that is home.” Rose sniffed.
Daed shrugged, looking at Bethany. “All I said was that if she planned to stay here in Indiana, she should sell her place in Iowa.”
Rose glared at him. “You want me to sell the home where I raised my daughter and the farm my Lemuel loved.” She stalked into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.
Mari rubbed her eyes. “Datti Jonah!”
Daed walked over to give Mari a kiss on the top of her curls. “How’s my pumpkin today?”
“My throat doesn’t hurt.”
“That is good.”
“But my spots are still here.” She bent her elbow and pointed to a few brown spots on her arm. “Will I always have spots?”
Daed shook his head, looking serious, but he winked at Bethany. “Not always. They will fade away and you’ll be our bright little pumpkin again.”
Mari lay back against her pillow. “Why is Mammi Rose angry?”
Daed glanced at Bethany. “She isn’t angry at you. She is unhappy with something I said.”
“You and Rose don’t get along very well, do you?” Bethany ran her fingers through Mari’s hair, trying to find some order in the curls.
“Not today.” Daed sighed. “She’s a headstrong woman.”
“Did she ask you about living in the Dawdi Haus? She might be happier if she had her own place.”
“She didn’t bring it up, but we can talk about it.”
Rose came back out to the porch with a pitcher of water and some glasses. Bethany helped her serve the water.
As Rose handed a glass to Daed, she said, “Talk about what?”
“The Dawdi Haus. No one is living in it, and it should be used. Bethany was asking why you don’t come live there.”
“I’m not giving up my home.”
“I’m not asking you to give it up. Just change it.”
Rose glared at him again and Bethany stood and picked up Mari.
“We’re going in. You two can argue all you want, but Mari and I are going to start fixing dinner.”
Neither Daed nor Rose said anything as Bethany went inside. She got Mari settled on the chair in the kitchen with her book, but the little girl didn’t open it. She laid her head down on her pillow, ready to finish her interrupted nap. As she drifted off, Bethany went out to the springhouse to fetch a dozen eggs and some butter and cream. Since the stove was already hot from the canning, she would build up the fire just enough to fix a custard to have with a light dinner of bread and butter. None of them felt like eating, as hot as it was, but they needed to have something nutritious.
Before she mixed up the custard, she thought of the glass of water she had left on the front porch. She had only taken one swallow before she’d brought in Mari, and now she went to get it rather than wasting the water. But as she approached the front screen door, she heard Daed and Rose talking. Before she realized she was eavesdropping, she heard them mention her name.
“What does Bethany have to do with it?” Daed asked.
“It isn’t only Bethany. She’s a sweet girl, but...”
“But you still don’t like her taking Lily’s place?”
Rose sniffed. “We’ve discussed this before. I can face the fact that my daughter is gone. I still think I’m the one who should raise Mari, and I want to do it in Iowa. That’s my home.”
“But I’m here, and so is Mari. Why are you so insistent on going back there?”
“I’m an independent woman, Jonah, and I have been for ten years. Why should I give that up?”
Bethany couldn’t tear herself away but stepped closer to the door.
“Don’t you get lonely sometimes?” Daed’s voice was soft, persuasive. “I know I do. God brought us together at this time to be together. To be a couple.”
Bethany covered her mouth. Daed was in love with Rose?
“We’ve talked about some tempting possibilities,” Rose said. “And if I were to marry again, you would be the one I chose.”
Daed chuckled. “We should do it soon, then. I’m tired of standing outside your window at night.”
“I didn’t say I would marry you. I have a particular way I like to do things. Since I’m not married, there is no one to tell me that I’m doing something the wrong way. No one to complain if I want to leave the lamp lit so I can quilt late at night or go outside to enjoy the night air. I don’t even have to worry if someone will dislike my cooking. I’m not sure I want to give up my freedom this late in life, and my home is waiting for me.”
“Your very quiet, very lonely home. You’ve told me how much you like being around the boys and how they make you feel useful.”
Rose didn’t answer. Bethany heard the creak of the porch swing as it received Daed’s weight.
“What is the real reason you won’t marry me?” he asked. “Is it because you don’t love me?”
The only sound Bethany heard was the chair’s rocker against the wooden porch floor.
Finally, Rose said, “I can’t answer that, Jonah. I do love you, but I can’t marry you. I don’t want to tie myself to any man again. I’ll be going home to Iowa as soon as I can.”
Bethany heard the squeak of the rocker as Rose stood and hurried back to the kitchen, sorry that she had overheard that conversation. But at least now she knew who the night prowler was. All this time, Daed had been courting Rose.
Andrew was milking Dinah when Bethany came into the barn just before supper. He had spent the day at Dr. Hoover’s house taking out the rotted porch supports and propping up the roof with the beams the doctor supplied. It had been a long, hot day, and he was ready to rest for the remainder of the evening. All those plans disappeared when Bethany stood by Dinah’s shoulder, watching him.
“I found out who our prowler is.”
The smile on Bethany’s face made him grin.
“Who is it?”
“Daed.”
“Jonah?” Andrew stopped milking until Dinah shifted her feet, reminding him of the job at hand. “What has he been doing?”
“Courting Rose.”
He shook his head. “That can’t be. Rose doesn’t want to get married again.”
“That’s what she told him, but he still said he wanted to marry her.”
Andrew stripped the last of the milk from Dinah’s udder and picked up the pail.
“That explains why Jenny didn’t bark at him.”
Bethany followed him as he took the milk to the springhouse to cool until morning.
Setting the pail in the trough of flowing water, he asked, “How did you find this out?”
“I happened to hear them talking when they were on the front porch this morning.”
Andrew closed the springhouse door and faced her. “You were eavesdropping?”
“When I heard what they were talking about, I couldn’t help it.”
“When are they getting married?”
“They aren’t. Rose turned him down.” Bethany walked with him toward the house. “She said she wanted to go back to Iowa.”
“She can’t do that. She can’t support herself there.”
“She said your mother wrote that the community dug a new, deeper well that they’re all sharing.”
“But even then, how can anything grow there?” He opened the door for Bethany, then followed her into the house. “I’m putting my foot down. She can’t go back.”
Rose came out of her bedroom just as they came into the kitchen.
“I want to talk to you.” She sat at the table, set for supper with cold chicken, bread and vegetables from the garden. “Mari has gone to bed, and it’s time we cleared up a few things.”
Andrew sighed. Rose was taking control again.
“I’m going back to Iowa.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sit down, Andrew. You, too, Bethany.”
Andrew didn’t sit. “You can’t go back to Iowa, at least not until the drought is over.”
“The train leaves at noon tomorrow. I want you to drive me to the station.”
“I won’t let you go.”
“Rose,” Bethany said. “What happened to make you decide this so suddenly? Is it the disagreement you had with Daed?”
Rose fixed her eyes on Andrew. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
Andrew sat, waiting to hear the excuse she had thought up for this plan.
“I know what you’ve done.” She folded her hands in front of her on the table, not looking at either one of them. “I saw it while Mari was sick, but I didn’t want to believe it. Just now, when I put her to bed, I had to face it.” She looked at Bethany, then at Andrew. “Your marriage is a lie. You are living separate lives under this roof and aren’t building a Christian family for Mari the way you led me to believe. In fact, I don’t even think the two of you love each other.”
Andrew couldn’t look at Bethany. “But we are married. You were there and witnessed the ceremony.”
“I can also tell the bishop the other things I’ve witnessed. Separate bedrooms? That is not the way married couples live.” She laid her hands flat on the table. “It isn’t too late to have this marriage annulled and bring both of you before the church for discipline.”
“You can’t do that,” Bethany said. “It isn’t right.”
“I can do that. Mari is my granddaughter, and her welfare is my first concern. I can’t let her live in a family based on lies.” Rose stood. “I’m bringing this matter to the bishop first thing in the morning.”
Andrew buried his face in his hands as she walked out of the room.
“What are we going to do?” Bethany asked.
When he didn’t answer, she jostled his shoulder.
“Andrew, what are you going to do? You have to stop her.”
“I’ve never been able to stop her. When she sets her mind to something, it happens. All we can hope is that the bishop won’t believe her.”
“But she’s right. Not that our marriage is a lie, but about—about the rest of it.”
“That’s no reason to ask for us to be brought up before the church.”
Bethany leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. A fly buzzed around the plate of chicken.
“This all comes back to Lily, doesn’t it? You treat her mother as if she’s a steam kettle about to blow up because that’s the way Lily always treated her. It’s time for you to take a stand, Andrew. You need to tell Rose that she can’t ruin our lives.”
He had to do the hard thing. Bethany was right. Rose had gotten her own way too often.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning, before she goes to the bishop. Maybe she’ll be thinking more clearly, and I’ll be able to reason with her.”
Bethany started covering the food, preparing to put it away in the springhouse, but Andrew snatched a piece of cold chicken from the plate first. She might not be hungry, but he was. And he had to fortify himself for his confrontation with Rose in the morning.
When Andrew woke the next day, the sky held the pale gray light that came just before dawn. He dressed and went out to the barn. The time to talk to Rose would come soon enough, after the morning chores were done. She certainly wouldn’t try to see the bishop before breakfast.
But when he got to the stalls, only Dandy was there, waiting for his morning hay and oats. Andrew filled both feed boxes, then went through Whiskers’ stall to the pasture to call him in. The horse wasn’t there. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see that the fence was down anywhere, but could Whiskers have jumped the fence? Or perhaps he had pushed through the gate.
It wasn’t until Andrew came back into the barn that he saw that the spring wagon was missing. He swallowed down the panic that sought to engulf him. He forced himself to think. Who would take the horse and wagon, and why?
Rose. Would she have driven herself to Bishop’s house so early? Or had she gone on to the train station?
He started toward the house, but before he crossed the gravel drive, Bethany appeared at the back door.
“Mari’s gone,” she called, her voice shrill. “She isn’t anywhere, and neither is Rose.”
“When I came downstairs and Rose wasn’t in the kitchen, I didn’t wonder about it. Sometimes she sleeps later than we do.” Bethany struggled to talk through her tears. Andrew held her, cradling her head against his shoulder. “But when I went to wake Mari, and she wasn’t there, I panicked. Then I saw that her clothes were gone, and her doll.”
“I found that Whiskers was gone, and the spring wagon.” Andrew held her away from him, so he could see her face. “Did you check? Did Rose take her things?”
Bethany nodded. “Do you think Rose took Mari when she went to talk to the bishop?”
Andrew shook his head, and Bethany’s insides turned over. “I think she plans to take Mari to Iowa with her.”
“She—she can’t do that. Mari isn’t completely well yet. What is Rose thinking?”
“She isn’t thinking straight, that’s for sure.” He turned her toward the house. “Get ready to go to town with me. I’m going to borrow Jonah’s buggy. We’ll stop her at the station before she even gets on the train.”
As Bethany started up the porch steps, he stopped her. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll find them.”
“You’re sure?”
Andrew nodded. “I’m sure.”
He started toward Daed’s house at a run while Bethany went inside. She got her bonnet and the bag she carried when she went to town. At the last minute, as she heard the buggy coming up the lane, she put out the fire in the kitchen stove.
When she got out to the buggy, Daed was sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Andrew remembered that he hadn’t milked the cow yet.” Daed’s face was lined with grief. “But we’ll leave as soon as he’s done.”
“Did Rose give you any idea that she was thinking of doing this?”
He shook his head. “I think I must have pushed her too far when I insisted that she needed to sell the farm in Iowa. I hadn’t realized that it meant so much to her.”
“I heard you talking to her about marriage yesterday. Were you serious?”
“For sure, I was. Ever since she came, my life has been different. We have our disagreements about some things, but that makes life interesting.”
“She isn’t anything like Mamm.”
Daed whooshed out a breath. “You’re right about that, except that Rose needs me, just like your mother did. I think we would have a good life together, and she would enjoy living here.” Daed ran his fingers through his beard. “I even thought that maybe she had feelings for me, too.”
Bethany patted Daed’s arm. “I think she does. She has been much happier the last few weeks, ever since we noticed that a prowler was coming around our house at night. Now that I know it was you visiting Rose, everything makes sense.”
Andrew came out of the barn at a trot and jumped into the buggy next to Bethany. “Now we can go. Should we go to the bishop’s house first, or straight to the train depot?”
“We’ll go straight to Shipshewana.” Daed picked up the reins and Melba started off at a trot. “Whether she goes to the bishop or not, we know she’s going to end up at the train station. We’ll meet her there.”
“What if she refuses to come home with us?” Bethany asked. “I know we can keep her from taking Mari, but we can’t let Rose get on that train. She belongs here.”
Andrew had put one arm along the back of the seat to brace himself, and now he dropped his hand down to Bethany’s shoulder. “I thought you wanted her to leave.”
“I did, once. But she has changed, or maybe I’ve changed. We work together now, and what would we have done without her when Mari was so ill? She knew just what to do.” Bethany chewed on her lower lip. “And you’re right. We can’t let her go back to Iowa until the drought is over.”
They drove in silence, each caught in their own thoughts. Bethany watched Melba’s ears as she trotted along the road. Why had Rose done such a thing? Sneaking away was one thing, but she had taken Mari. Stolen her out of her bed when the little girl was still recovering from the measles. Bethany’s hand clenched and unclenched. She longed to have Mari safe in her arms again, safe at home.
It was still early morning and there was no other traffic on the roads. Even the state highway was quiet as Daed turned the buggy north, toward town.
“What will we say when we see her?” Bethany asked. “What if she...well, what if she isn’t in her right mind?”
“I don’t think we need to worry about that. We all know how headstrong Rose is, and she will do almost anything to make things go her way,” Daed said. “She needs to understand that we won’t let her take Mari back to Iowa, and that we want her to stay here, too.” He stopped Melba at the stop sign in the middle of town, then drove on to the train depot in the next block. “I’ll handle Rose. You two take care of Mari.”
The station platform was empty when they drove up, but Whiskers was tied to the hitching rail. The spring wagon was empty.
“Where could she be?” Andrew asked as he jumped out of the buggy, then helped Bethany out.
“Inside the depot, most likely.” Daed’s face and voice were grim as he strode toward the door of the passenger waiting room.
For sure, there was Rose, sitting on a bench with Mari sleeping on her lap. Daed sat beside her, while Andrew led Bethany to the bench facing her. No one else was in the room this early.
“How did you find me?” Rose tucked the blanket around Mari’s shoulders.
“You didn’t hide where you were going,” Daed said. “But why did you take Mari?”
“I couldn’t bear to leave her.” Rose’s eyes glistened with tears. One trickled down her cheek. “She’s my only grandchild, and all I have left of my dear Lily.”
“But she isn’t your daughter. She’s Andrew’s daughter, and Bethany’s. She belongs with them.”
“I only want the best for her.”
“Why isn’t being with her father and mother the best?”
The corners of Rose’s mouth turned down. “Are you aware that your daughter has been living a lie? That those two don’t have a true marriage?”
Daed took Rose’s hand. “I know that when Andrew and Bethany got married, they didn’t think they loved each other. It was too soon after Lily’s passing for Andrew, and four years had gone by since they had been together. But I trust that love will grow.” He looked at them and smiled. “I think it’s growing before our eyes.”
Bethany glanced at Andrew, catching his surprised gaze. Why did Daed think they were beginning to love each other?
Daed focused on Rose’s hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “I told Andrew last week that love isn’t a feeling, it’s a choice. They can choose to love each other or not, and what they choose will make all the difference in their lives.” He cleared his throat. “The same is true for us. We can choose to love each other and pledge our lives to each other, or we can remain as we are, two lonely people trying to forge our own path through life.”
“I don’t want to give up my past...”
Rose’s voice faltered as Daed put one arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him.
“You’ll always have memories of your past, but I want you to decide to spend your future with me. I want to be the one to protect you, to love you and to spoil you.”
“And to keep me from doing silly things like sitting in an empty train station?” Rose smiled at him.
“Ja, for sure.” Daed pulled her close and kissed the top of her bonnet. “Come home with me and be my wife and the mother my boys need.”
Rose smiled. “Those boys need a lot of mothering.”
“They certainly do. And Mari needs a grandmother who loves her dearly.”
Mari stirred, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Mamma?”
Rose turned the little girl so she could see Andrew. “Your daed is right there.”
Mari slid off Rose’s lap and climbed into Bethany’s.
“Are you all right?” Bethany asked.
Mari nodded. “I’m hungry. And my spots are almost gone.” She snuggled into Bethany’s arms. “Will they come back?”
“I hope not,” Bethany said, holding her close.
“Well,” Daed said, “it’s time to go home. Give me your train ticket, Rose, and I’ll try to get your money back.”
“I don’t have a ticket.” Rose stood up, brushing her skirt. “The booth isn’t open yet.”
“It’s a good thing we came along when we did,” Daed said, picking up Rose’s bag. “Otherwise you might be on your way back to Iowa.”
Rose frowned at him. “You know that I fully intended to travel to Iowa today.”
“Why did you let me stop you?”
“I knew that if you really wanted to marry me, you wouldn’t let me get on that train. But if you weren’t serious, I was ready to take Mari home and get on with our lives there.”
“It’s a good thing that I’m a serious man, then.” He led the way out to the buggy.
Andrew took Mari and Bethany slipped her hand into his elbow as they walked out. She was happy that Rose and Daed were finally settled. But all this talk of love echoed hollowly. No matter what Daed said, she knew her marriage to Andrew would always be just a convenient arrangement. He would always hold Lily first in his heart.