“I’m going with you this morning, Mammi, ain’t so?” Benjy was eager to firm up his plans for the day as he hopped down from his seat at the breakfast table.
“That’s right.” Beth hesitated, wondering if she was doing the right thing by taking him to work with her. Was it better than leaving him with Janie or worse? There didn’t seem to be any guidelines that fit her situation, making her feel guilty either way.
“You like going to the store, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yah, for sure.” He gave a little hop that said he was eager to get started. “Daniel said I could help him today.”
Beth felt an interior tremor at the mention of Daniel. The memory of what had happened between them the previous night was too fresh. She still hadn’t managed to decide how she felt about it.
“What are you going to do?” It was cowardly to avoid saying his name. She’d best get herself together before they left for the store.
“Make a new shelf in the office. That’s what Daniel said. He said we could make it in a jiffy.”
She’d noticed her son was prone to quote Daniel several times a day now. “That will be wonderful gut. We need more space.”
Benjy stopped his energetic hopping and stood still, seeming deep in thought. “Daniel’s gut at making things.” He paused, then looked up at her, his blue eyes wondering. “Was Daadi gut at making things?”
Beth’s breath caught. She’d warned herself that one day Benjy would start asking questions about his daadi. She just hadn’t expected it now. Should she simply answer, or did he need more assurance about his father?
“Daadi didn’t make a lot of things at the store,” she said carefully. “Daniel did that, and Daadi was gut at other things, like taking care of the customers. That’s why they were partners...they each did something the other didn’t.”
She waited, watching his small face. Did he need more than that?
But she couldn’t read any doubts in his eyes. He nodded as if satisfied and skipped toward the hall. “Hurry and get ready, Mammi. We need to get to work.”
That startled a laugh from her. Where had he picked up that phrase? Well, it was true enough.
“As soon as I finish the breakfast dishes, we’ll go. Did you make your bed yet?”
“I will.” He darted off, and his feet thudded on the stairs.
Beth shook her head. One small boy could certainly make a lot of noise. And ask a lot of questions.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about his growing closeness to Daniel. But it was natural, she supposed. In the past week, he had spent more time with Daniel than with his grandfather or his uncles. And there was never a need to worry when he was with Daniel.
Her thoughts slipped back to the previous night. She’d been so determined to hold on to her anger with him, but she hadn’t been able to. She had understood him too well for that. He’d been torn by his long friendship with James fighting against his growing suspicions.
She would have been as well, if she hadn’t found out in such a devastating way. The note had left no room for doubt.
The note. Daniel obviously thought it best destroyed at once. And he’d been right about the dangers of anyone else seeing it. If Benjy ever learned about his father’s failing, it shouldn’t be that way.
Or any way at all, if she could manage it. Lydia and Daniel were the only ones who knew, except for her. And the unknown woman.
Maybe Daniel had been right. There was no reason to keep it, and every reason to destroy it. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Beth retrieved the note from the drawer where she’d hidden it after Daniel left. Striking a match, she held it over the sink and lit the edge of the paper.
It burned quickly, the words disappearing into the flame, then the whole paper crumbling into ash. She turned on the faucet and washed the ash down the drain.
There. It was done. She wouldn’t torment herself with it again. It was time to start looking toward the future, not the past.
Benjy galloped down the stairs and into the kitchen and stopped to sniff. “It smells like burning, Mammi.”
“I guess it does.” She kept her face away from him as she took her sweater from the hook and pulled it on. “It was just a little bit of trash. Komm, let’s go to work.”
The lane was still damp after yesterday’s rain, and rain had brought down a fresh drift of leaves, as it always did. The season was moving on quickly, and it would soon be time for cider-making if she intended to do it this year.
That was one of the few orchard chores James had enjoyed, probably because they always had a group of people there to help and it always turned into a work frolic. Everyone brought something to share for supper, and they all had to try the fresh golden cider.
Beth struggled with the idea for a few minutes but then glanced at Benjy. He’d love it, even if he didn’t remember it from last year.
She should mention it to Mamm and Daad, and together they’d pick a date. She couldn’t stop doing it just because it reminded her of James.
A burst of wind swept them along with some bright yellow leaves, and they hurried into the store, laughing a little. “We beat the wind here,” Benjy crowed, and trotted toward the back, where she could spot Daniel opening a carton.
Instead of heading in that direction, she paused at the counter to exchange greetings with Anna, who was smiling as she watched Benjy.
“I tell him not to run indoors, but it doesn’t seem to stick,” she said.
She scanned Anna’s face with the usual concern, but she actually looked better this morning. She didn’t have the pallor she sometimes did. Maybe things were better at home. Beth said a quick prayer that it was so.
“Ach, no one cares that he runs here,” Anna said. “We all love him.”
It was the most personal thing Anna had ever said to her, and Beth’s heart warmed. If she could grow closer to the girl, she might be able to help her.
“That’s gut of you to say. But we all have to learn manners, ain’t so? The trouble is that he usually makes me laugh just about the time I should be correcting him.”
Anna was still watching Benjy. “He looks just like his daadi.” Her words came out in a whisper, as if she were talking to herself, and then she seemed to hear what she’d said. She flushed, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said...”
“It’s all right. It’s gut for Benjy if people talk normally about his father.” She reached out, thinking to comfort the girl with a pat on the shoulder, but Anna winced away.
“I... I should go and help Timothy.” She scurried off.
Beth moved behind the counter. The poor girl had embarrassed herself, thinking she’d said the wrong thing. She remembered that stage where she’d wavered between being a child and a grown woman. It wasn’t easy for anyone.
Daniel eyed Beth cautiously while he welcomed Benjy, pleased that the lad immediately started helping him unpack the carton. Beth seemed occupied with Anna, and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t looked in his direction at all.
Was she angry with him about last night? He’d thought they’d parted with forgiveness on both sides, but maybe she’d regretted letting him comfort her. Or she might think he’d gone too far in saying she should get rid of that note. It wasn’t his business to advise her to do something she didn’t want to do.
The note had shocked him, and he could easily imagine the impact it had made on her, fresh from mourning her husband’s death. A flicker of anger went through him. James should have had better sense. He’d been wrong to be seeing another woman, but if he’d been determined to sin, he might at least have destroyed that note and saved Beth a great deal of pain.
He’d been mad at James a number of times when they were young. That was only natural—kids fought and made up again, sometimes resorting to a shove or two. Still, he’d never felt as disappointed or as angry as he did now. How could anyone fortunate enough to have won Beth for his wife even look at anyone else?
Benjy tugged at his sleeve, and he realized the boy had been asking him something.
“Aren’t we going to build the shelf today? I told Mammi, and she said that was gut.” He tilted his face, obviously considering something. “Maybe she really needs it.”
“I’m sure it will make her happy if we build it,” he said gravely. “Let’s break down this box and put it in the storeroom, and then we can get started.”
Benjy, like any boy, enjoyed jumping on the box to flatten it. Even though it was now taller than he was, he carried it to the storeroom, talking all the time.
“I told Mammi that you were gut at making things. She said that Daadi was gut at other things.”
“That’s true.” He held the storeroom door while Benjy slid the box through. “That’s why we were partners.”
“That’s what Mammi said.” Benjy beamed with satisfaction. He carried the box over to the right stack.
It was high enough that Benjy couldn’t reach the top, so Daniel lifted him. The boy felt ridiculously light, and a wave of affection surged through him. He’d always been fond of Benjy, but since he’d been coming to the store, Daniel’s feelings had grown deeper. If he could help it, Benjy wouldn’t miss any of the care he needed. After all, there were some things only a man could teach a boy.
“Gut job,” he said, setting Benjy down.
Benjy stood for a moment, eyeing the stack of cardboard. “Are you going to have a big fire with the boxes?”
He shook his head. “We keep them here, and anyone who needs boxes to pack things in can come and take as many as they want.”
“Mammi was burning some trash this morning,” Benjy volunteered. “She did it in the sink. I thought she should burn it outside.”
“It must have been something very small.” Something the size of a piece of folded paper.
Benjy didn’t seem inclined to talk about it. “Are we going to build the shelf now?” He looked up at Daniel, his eyes filled with eagerness. “I want to learn how, so I can help.”
“We’ll get the tools and start, okay?” His mind wasn’t on carpentry. Instead, he’d focused on the fact Benjy had innocently let slip.
Maybe he shouldn’t have listened, but how could he help it? And had Beth been burning that note this morning?
He glanced across the width of the store to where Beth was helping a customer pick out a pumpkin. She was smiling, looking perfectly normal. In fact, she might be looking a little more at ease than she had in a long time.
If she had burned that note, he could only be thankful. No doubt he should have kept his opinions to himself. Still, she’d shown it to him. She wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t wanted to hear what he had to say.
Daniel’s stomach still turned queasy at the thought of it. Even if the note was gone now, the words were engraved on his mind. And, he didn’t doubt, on Beth’s, as well.
He’d thought it would be far better for Beth if she could forget about knowing who was going to meet James that last night. She’d have to forgive, no matter who it was, but that wouldn’t be easy. Forgive if you would be forgiven. The Lord hadn’t left any room for evasion in the words. He, too, had to forgive. James had hurt him, too, although not in the grievous way he’d caused pain for Beth.
She hadn’t looked at him, he told himself as he and Benjy headed into the office with the toolbox. That didn’t mean anything. She might not have noticed him. But he’d like to find out what she was thinking.
With the materials already gathered for adding the shelf, it wasn’t going to take long. The challenge was to find something Benjy could do.
But Benjy was easy to please. Standing on a chair, watching intently, he grinned as they finished screwing in the second bracket.
“We did it,” he exclaimed, so happy that Daniel had to grin back at him.
“We still have to put the shelf on,” he cautioned. “Shall we try it?”
Benjy nodded. He seemed to hold his breath until the shelf was fixed into place. “There!” He paused. “If I learn a lot, will I be a gut partner, like Daadi?”
He hadn’t expected the question, and it struck him right in the heart. “I think you’ll be a very gut partner one day. Let’s go tell your mammi.”
Grinning, Benjy bolted across the office and on toward his mother. Daniel followed more slowly. Did he dare to bring up what Benjy had said? Probably not, but he longed to know.
Beth greeted him with a smile. “I understand you and your helper finished the new shelf.”
“That we did. Is Benjy going to show it to you?”
“That’s why he’s pulling on my hand.” She glanced at her son. “Just wait a minute,” she told Benjy. “I have something to say to Daniel. You go ahead, and I’ll be there in a minute.”
Benjy let go and scooted off at his usual trot, and Beth looked at Daniel. “Denke, Daniel. I’m sure it takes longer when he helps, but he does love it.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.” He’d do far more for Beth and her son if he could.
Beth hesitated a moment, glancing away as if she didn’t want to meet his eyes. “I wanted to say... I took your advice. It’s gone.”
Unable to help himself, he clasped her hand for a second. “I’m glad.”
Beth looked fleetingly into his face and then hurried after her son.
Standing there, seeming to feel the warmth of her hand still in his, Daniel faced the truth. He loved Beth. It might never come to anything but friendship, but he loved her.
Benjy was skipping alongside Beth as they headed for home later, making her feel she’d like to skip, as well. She seemed inexpressibly lighter, and she had no idea why.
She swung Benjy’s hand, loving the way his fingers tightened on hers and the sweet expression in his soft, round face as he looked up at her.
“What makes you want to skip?” she asked.
His forehead crinkled as he considered the question. He took another skipping step, and then his forehead cleared and his eyes lit. “I know. Because I feel happy, and when I skip, I get more happy.”
Laughter bubbled up in her. “Gut. I’m glad you feel happy. I’ll have to try that—maybe it will make me happier, too.”
“Aren’t you happy, Mammi?” With a quick change, his face turned serious.
“For sure I am.” She scooped him into her arms for a hug. “Because I have you, and you make me happy all the time.”
“Even when I’m naughty?”
“Even then,” she assured him. And she knew just as suddenly why she felt so much freer. She’d resolved to turn away from the past and focus on their future—hers and Benjy’s. No doubt she’d falter sometimes, but at least she was looking in the right direction.
Benjy tugged at her hand. “Skip with me.”
Laughter bubbled up in her, and together they began to skip toward the house. Benjy had been right. Skipping did make her feel happier.
They were laughing and breathless when they reached the porch. Trying to catch her breath, Beth glanced at the door and found her mother-in-law looking back at her.
Sarah’s expression sobered her instantly. It said she didn’t approve—whether of the laughter or the skipping, Beth wasn’t sure.
She forced herself to smile. “Look, Benjy. Here’s your grossmammi come to see us.”
Benjy scurried to hug his grandmother, and Sarah’s disapproval transformed into a look of indulgent affection and pride. She pushed open the screen door and bent for a hug.
“Ach, there’s my sweet boy. I’m sehr glad to see you.”
When the hug went on a little too long for Benjy, he started to wiggle. Going to the rescue, Beth grasped the door to usher them inside.
“Sarah, this is such a nice surprise. If I’d known you were coming today, we could have come home a little earlier from the store.”
“I didn’t know myself.” Sarah smoothed Benjy’s silky-soft hair down where it tended to curl at the sides. “Myra Miller had to pick something up at her brother’s place, so I said I’d ride along. I thought I could get some apples from you.”
“For sure,” Beth said, thankful she’d cleaned the kitchen up before they’d left. “Will you have lunch with us?”
“Better not.” Sarah glanced at the clock. “We’d best get the apples so I’m ready when Myra comes back.”
Myra, as Beth well knew, was Sarah’s closest friend. Also a widow, she lived less than a block away from the cottage where James had grown up. An unstoppable talker, Myra was, and Beth had sometimes wondered how the two of them heard the other when they talked simultaneously.
Lifting a basket from a hook in the mudroom, Beth handed it to Benjy. “Let’s pick them now. Would you like McIntosh or Red Delicious?”
“McIntosh, please. Then I’ll make apple dumplings for when Benjy comes to visit me tomorrow. And maybe one or two of the Delicious.”
Benjy was already scurrying out the door with the basket. “I’ll get them,” he called.
“Now, you wait until we get there before you start picking,” Sarah said, hurrying after him.
“It’s all right. He knows which ones to pick.” Beth fell into step with her.
“But he might get hurt.” Sarah gave her a look that suggested she was a negligent mother.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” After all, Sarah had lost her only son. She was bound to be feeling overly worried about her only grandson.
They walked in silence for another few steps, but Beth sensed Sarah had more to say.
Sure enough, Sarah emitted a sigh. “You know I’m not one to interfere,” she began, “but I really have to caution you.” She shook her head. “When I saw you running and laughing down the lane...don’t you realize anyone might have seen you? And in your black dress, too.”
Beth didn’t know whether she felt more annoyed or more guilty, and she tried to compose herself before replying. “I’m sorry, Sarah. Perhaps it did seem frivolous, but Benjy was in such a happy mood that I wanted to encourage him.” She tried to say more, but her throat seemed tied up in knots.
She certainly couldn’t say anything about her own feeling of relief. Sarah wouldn’t understand without knowing of James’s failing, and she was determined that Sarah never would. That was the best thing she could do to protect her mother-in-law, and she’d keep that secret no matter what.
A glance at Sarah told her that she was near to tears. “Yah, for sure Benjy comes first. I just wouldn’t want anyone to think you weren’t properly mourning my son. It’s important what others think of you. It reflects on James.”
All Beth could do was nod and keep silent. There didn’t seem to be any appropriate response that was also truthful.
“Well, let’s forget it,” Sarah said. “I’m sure you’ll think again another time.”
Sarah’s attention was diverted by the sight of Benjy perched in the crotch of the biggest McIntosh tree, and she rushed toward him, uttering cautions and insisting he hang on until she could lift him down.
Benjy assumed his mulish expression, knowing that he was allowed to climb that high alone. In a moment he’d be telling his grandmother so. Murmuring a silent prayer for patience, Beth went in pursuit of Sarah, preparing to intercede and knowing it wouldn’t be welcomed by her mother-in-law.
A memory popped to the front of her mind—Daniel’s firm, quiet voice countering her objections to letting Benjy help that first day at the store. He’d been right, and she knew that now, but she doubted Sarah would ever admit to being overprotective, either toward Benjy or toward James.