Taking a deep breath, Beth tapped at the door. “Anna? It’s Beth. May I come in?”
A muffled sob was the only answer.
Etta reached around her to turn the knob. The door swung open and Etta practically pushed her into the room.
Anna was curled up in a ball on the bed. She glanced up and then promptly hid her face.
But that look was enough for Beth. Anna’s face was pale and drawn, as if she hadn’t been eating, and her skin was blotchy from crying. Red-rimmed eyes had glanced briefly at Beth before Anna clamped them shut as if she couldn’t bear to see.
Beth’s heart cramped at the sight. The poor girl—whatever had happened, she desperately needed to have someone on her side. She probably wasn’t the answer Anna needed, but she had to try.
Sinking down on the bed next to Anna, Beth put her arms around the girl, ignoring Anna’s wince into herself. “Hush now, Anna. It’s going to be all right. You don’t need to worry. I’m here.”
They were the simple phrases she used with Benjy—probably the very ones her mother had used with her. They might not make a lot of sense, especially since she didn’t know what was wrong, but they soothed. So often in recent months she’d longed to feel someone’s arms around her and to hear someone whisper that it was all right.
She kept on patting Anna’s back, repeating the soothing words over and over. Gradually the hysterical weeping lessened. Beth wrapped her arms more closely around her. “It’s all right. Just tell me what’s happened.”
Another strangled sob sounded. “I’m sorry,” Anna whispered, seeming unable to make any louder noise. “I’m sorry, Beth. I’m so sorry.”
Beth began to be exasperated. If Anna couldn’t tell her anything, how could she help her?
“Komm now, Anna. Tell me what’s wrong. Can you sit up here beside me and talk?”
Anna nodded, so Beth helped her to sit up. There, that was a step in the right direction.
“That’s better. It’s going to be all right. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Anna tried to speak, but her voice broke on a sob. “I never wanted you to know. I never wanted anyone to know. He said no one would ever know.”
He. The word set up a faint train of thought, misty and unclear, but frightening.
“Everyone will hate me.” Anna’s voice was stronger.
Beth sensed it would all come out now, and fear gripped her. It wasn’t too late. She could run away, pretend she didn’t know...
But she couldn’t. There was no sense in hiding from the truth.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who wrote to James.” The words weren’t an accusation. They were a statement of fact.
“You know?” Anna raised horrified eyes to her. “How did you know? He said no one would ever know.”
Oh, James, how could you? Anna is a sixteen-year-old child. What were you thinking?
But she knew the answer to that, didn’t she? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been scattering his careless charm over anyone female, and this time it had exploded in his face.
“I found a note in James’s drawer. It was probably the last one you wrote—about meeting you in the usual place.” She ought to feel rage, but instead all she felt was grief, both for Anna and for herself. “What was the usual place?”
Anna mopped her eyes, but she avoided looking at Beth. “That...that old schoolhouse. Down on Owl Hollow Road. We...we thought no one would see us there. But that night he didn’t come, and I had to go home.” A sob interrupted her. “The next day I heard...”
Anna didn’t want to finish that thought, and neither did Beth.
Another sob burst from Anna. “I was just so unhappy. And when he smiled at me, it made me feel better.”
“So you started meeting in secret.” She couldn’t help the edge to her words.
“You don’t think—” Anna’s eyes opened wide. “It was never anything. Just talking, and sometimes he gave me a hug. He kissed me two times.” She put her hand on her cheek, as if cherishing it. “But it was wrong, and now you’ll hate me. Everyone will know, and I’ll be under the bann, and Daadi will be so angry...”
“Hush, hush a minute.” Everyone would know. Anna would be hurt, but she wasn’t the only one.
Everyone would talk, and she’d know they were talking about her, pitying her. Sarah would find out about the son she adored. How could she even survive that? And worst of all, Benjy would know. He wouldn’t understand, not now, but he’d be aware that his daadi had done something shameful. Someday he’d understand, and that would be even worse.
In all her initial need to know who the woman was, she’d never considered how that would come about and what damage it would do. If only she could see another way...
She studied Anna, who had lapsed back into misery again. Anna would never be able to keep quiet about it. She had confessed because she couldn’t go on, and her conscience would force her to complete the act and confess to the church.
Beth rubbed her forehead, feeling a band tighten around it as she tried to see a way out. Maybe...maybe there was a way to do the least harm possible.
“Anna, listen to me. Can you keep quiet about this a little longer now that you’ve told me?”
“But I have to confess, and then the whole church will know. And Daadi will be so angry...”
For an instant she wanted to shake the girl and shake Hiram Fisher, as well.
“I know. Just another day, to give me time to think this out. That’s not too much, is it?”
She couldn’t see any hope in Anna’s face, but at least she didn’t look quite so miserable.
“I’ll try, if you say so.”
“Gut.” She didn’t have a plan, and she certain sure hadn’t dealt with her own feelings, but she saw a glimmer of hope. “Now, listen. I want to tell your mother that you’re feeling better, and you’re going to come to work tomorrow, all right?”
Anna seemed to shrink. “How could I? Everyone would be looking at me.”
“You can work in the storeroom, if you want. Just do this for me, and I’ll try to help you. All right?”
She sniffled a little, but then she nodded. “Denke, Beth. Daniel said I should tell you the truth, and he was right. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Daniel. So Daniel had known, and he hadn’t told her.
Beth pushed that into the back of her mind to be dealt with later. She had enough to handle right now.
“Now you go and wash your face and freshen up. I’m going to talk to your mother, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the store.” She hesitated, fearing Anna would slump back into despair the instant she was gone. “Anna, I forgive you. And I’m sure God forgives you. It’s going to be all right.”
“I don’t... I don’t deserve that.”
“Never mind that. Just do as I say. It will be all right.”
She hoped. At the moment all she wanted was to be alone so that she could think all of this out. The important thing now was to handle it in a way that would hurt as few people as possible. She would deal with her own pain later.
The day seemed to drag by after Beth left, despite how busy they were. Daniel longed for Beth’s return and dreaded it at the same time.
If she succeeded in seeing Anna, she probably knew the truth about Anna and James by now. And she’d also know that Anna had told him and that he’d kept silent.
It had been the right thing to do, hadn’t it? It was far better for Anna to confess to the person she’d wronged. Beth would be more likely to believe and forgive if she heard it from Anna.
Where did that leave him? Beth, with her tender heart, would most likely forgive Anna, but it was less likely that she’d forgive him. He might very well have lost her forever.
The Monday morning press of customers had eased off abruptly, and the store was silent except for Timothy dragging a carton across the floor. Daniel planted his hands on the counter and leaned on them, head down, pain dragging at him. He didn’t see a good outcome from this for anyone, and he feared he’d be a good long while forgiving James for leaving such a mess to be cleaned up.
Daniel jerked out of his painful thoughts at the sound of footsteps behind him. Beth had come in the back door, and a glance through the side window told him that her horse and buggy were parked at the hitching rail.
He forced himself to meet her eyes, afraid of what he’d see there. He didn’t find the anger he’d expected, not now at least. Beth seemed distracted, as if she were trying to figure something out.
Unable to stand the silence, he spoke. “Were you able to see her?”
Beth focused on him. “I saw her. She was shut up in her room weeping, but I finally got her talking. So far her parents don’t know anything, and I convinced her not to say anything about it until I’d had a chance to decide how to handle this.”
“Do you think you can rely on that?” Anna didn’t strike him as someone who’d be able to keep a secret. Still, she’d done it this long.
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead, her face pale against the black brim of the bonnet she’d worn for the drive. “I hope so. I told Etta that it was a misunderstanding. That she’d made a mistake, and she thought we were blaming her, but we’re not.”
She caught his look, and her eyes snapped. “I didn’t lie,” she said. “With that father of hers, it will be better if this isn’t generally known.”
Daniel frowned, feeling his head begin to hurt just as much as hers probably did. “I don’t see how you’re going to manage that. Anna won’t be able to forgive herself until she’s made it right, and that means confessing.”
Beth’s anger seemed to spark. “And what will happen if she confesses before the church? Everyone will know, and a lot of people will be hurt. Think of Sarah, learning that about her son. She’s already at the point that she’ll never stop grieving. I can’t do that to her. And think of Benjy.”
“And you.” Daniel added the words in a soft voice. “Do you think I don’t realize that? You’ll be hurt twice over by what James did.”
Should he have laid the blame so firmly on James? He couldn’t help believing that James was the most culpable. He was a grown man, and Anna was just an impressionable child, longing to idolize anyone who was kind to her.
Beth seemed to shrug that off. “I’m wondering what would happen if I went to see the bishop with Anna. After all, they didn’t...commit adultery.” She struggled with the word, and he saw her wince with pain. “Maybe he’d agree to a private confession and penalty.”
He considered. What she said was true, in a way. This wouldn’t, he thought, rise to the level of a kneeling confession in front of the whole Leit. With the bishop’s agreement, she might be able to minimize the backlash hurting innocent people.
“Can you really do that, Beth? Can you go to the bishop and listen to the story all over again?”
She shrugged. “It’s the least I can do, don’t you think? She’s hardly more than a child. James...well, James should have known better.”
That was putting it mildly, he thought. “Do you want me to go with you and Anna?”
Her anger flashed again. “Why would you do that? Because Anna confessed to you, and you didn’t tell me?”
He met her eyes steadily. “You’re angry with me.”
“Don’t I have a reason? You could have told me this. I trusted you.”
“Yah, I could have told you. But I thought it would be better for Anna if she confessed to you herself. That’s why I pushed you into going over there today.”
He saw her absorb his reasoning, but he didn’t see any indication that she agreed with it.
After a moment, Beth shook her head irritably. “Anna is coming in to work tomorrow. I thought she should be out of the house. I’ll try to talk to Bishop Thomas before that to find out when he can see us.”
He nodded. There didn’t seem to be any answer to make. Beth was facing a painful situation, and she wouldn’t let him help her. He’d forfeited that right.
There was no hope left for them, but that didn’t change his feelings. He would love her forever.
Beth went home, feeling as if she’d like to get into bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. It couldn’t be done. She had a son to take care of, and she must contact the bishop and set up a time to see him tomorrow.
That was easier said than done. She’d have to call and leave a message on the bishop’s answering machine and hope he’d check it sometime soon. And she’d have to put enough urgency into her voice so that he’d see them tomorrow. She didn’t think Anna could contain herself any longer than that.
As she neared the house, Benjy came running toward her. “Mammi, Mammi! You should see the big pile of leaves we made.”
Beth hugged him, holding him close a bit longer than usual and inhaling the sweet little boy scent. When he wiggled to be free, she let him go reluctantly.
“Show me your leaf pile.”
He looked confused for a minute, glancing around as if he thought to see it right next to him.
Janie giggled, and he started to giggle, too.
“We jumped in it too many times, didn’t we, Benjy?” Janie caught his hand and swung it back and forth. “But it was lots and lots of fun.”
“Yah, it was.” He seemed satisfied. “We could make another one.”
Beth touched his cheek lightly. “I have to make a phone call first. And maybe we should get something to eat.”
“Grossdaadi is going to pick me up,” Janie said. “He wanted me to tell you that he’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.”
She nodded. He must have looked into the possibility of selling. She’d about decided to forget it, but she’d been so tied up today that she’d have to rethink the whole question.
Benjy tugged on Janie’s hand. “Doesn’t Grossdaadi want to talk to me?”
“I’m sure he does,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go fix a snack while Mammi is making her phone call.”
In a few minutes, Beth was walking back from the phone shanty. If she’d sounded as desperate as she felt, Bishop Thomas would probably want to see her immediately.
When she got in the house, she realized it was well past lunchtime and she hadn’t even noticed it. Janie caught her dismayed look at the clock and shook her head, smiling.
“It’s all right. Benjy and I had our lunch already. We’ll have some cider and cookies now. Can I fix something for you?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said quickly, afraid she wouldn’t succeed if she tried to eat something now. “I’ll wait and see if your grandfather wants something.”
Janie seemed to be studying her, catching on to the fact that she wasn’t as usual. She’d always been a sensitive child, concerned for others, and now she’d added a maturity to it that was very attractive.
She was only a year younger than Anna. The comparison made her stomach turn over.
“So sorry I was late getting back today. I hope it didn’t mess up any plans.” She managed a smile.
“No, nothing at all.” Janie glanced to the window. “Ach, here’s Grossdaadi.” She gulped down the rest of her cider. “Let’s go say hi.”
Benjy bolted from his seat. “I want to tie up the horse.” The screen door slammed behind him.
Beth forced herself to her feet, feeling about a hundred years old. But before she could get outside, her father had come in. He caught her in a hug.
“Sit down, sit down. You look tired.”
“I guess I am, a little. Do you want coffee?” She turned to the stove, but he shook his head.
“I’ll have some cider. Sit down.”
Taking it as an order, she sank into the chair. Daadi poured a glass for each of them.
“How did you convince Benjy not to come in with you?” she asked.
“I said he could help Janie drive the buggy up and down the lane. Don’t worry about them. Janie is a good, responsible girl.”
“Yah, she is. I was just thinking that.” She hesitated. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Daad gave a brisk nod and brushed his hand against his full, brownish-red beard. “I looked into this business of Elijah wanting to buy into the store.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to speak ill of someone in the church, but I think you’d do better to look for someone else if you want to sell. He has a reputation for cutting corners and not treating his employees very well. What does Daniel think?”
Daniel’s name was like a sensitive spot on her skin. She tried to collect herself. “He wants me to do whatever is best for me and Benjy. But he did make it clear that he’d hate to be partners with Elijah.”
“And what about you? Do you want to sell?”
Beth thought of everything that had happened in the past weeks. She’d enjoyed working in the store, and it had given her a sense of accomplishment. Her feelings for Daniel had grown, to be honest with herself. But she wasn’t sure any longer. Could she go on working with him every day? She certainly couldn’t decide when she didn’t know what was going to happen with Anna and the bishop.
“I don’t know.” She struggled for words, but before she could find any, Daad had given a brisk nod.
“Well, then, you shouldn’t decide. And that’s a gut way to turn Elijah down. If you do decide later, you should take your time and look at all the possibilities.”
It made the most sense of anything she’d been thinking. “Denke, Daadi. I think that’s what is best, too.”
“That’s settled, then. Do you want me to speak to Elijah for you?”
She’d love to say yes, but that probably wasn’t befitting a grown woman who was partner in a business. “No, I’ll take care of it. Denke.”
“Gut.” He stood up. “Now I will take Janie and Benjy home with me for supper, and we’ll bring him back at bedtime. In the meanwhile, you have a nice rest.”
She followed him, protesting. “You don’t need to do that.”
“We want to,” he said, watching as Benjy drove the buggy back to them with Janie’s hands hovering over his on the lines. “Rest now. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
No, she didn’t. And she was truly blessed to have such a loving family to help her.