Daniel had suggested that Beth stay home from the store on Saturday, telling her that she had plenty to do with the cider-pressing that day. He knew that was true, but he also knew they’d been uncomfortable around each other for the last couple of days since he’d found out about the offer from Elijah.
He realized he was clenching his fists and deliberately relaxed them. He’d also been standing and staring into the meat case. He shook himself with a command to get busy and stop thinking about Beth. He could do the one but not the other.
The possibility she’d decide to sell out, combined with struggling about his feelings for her—
Again he stopped what he was doing, this time feeling as if he’d been hit in the stomach. How stupid could he be? The very fact of their attraction could be giving Beth the impetus to sell. Now that he saw it, he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long.
“Onkel Daniel.” Timothy sounded as if it were not the first time he’d spoken. “Onkel Daniel, are you all right?”
“Yah, for sure.” His face probably looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “What do you need?”
Instead of speaking up, Timothy stared down at his feet. “Well, I wondered... You see, I was talking to Janie, and she said she’d be at Beth’s all day helping get ready for the cider-pressing.” He came to a halt, and Daniel had the unique experience of seeing his self-confident nephew turning bright red.
“And?” he prompted, trying to disguise his amusement.
“Well, we’re not too busy this afternoon, and I thought Janie... I mean Beth and Janie, might use my help. If I could leave early.”
Daniel made a point of looking around the store, taking note of the fact that, as usual, Saturday afternoon was a slack time. In the morning they’d been busy, but not now.
“All right, you can leave now. Just make sure you’re helping, not distracting...someone.”
Timothy grinned, over his embarrassment. “Denke, Onkel Daniel. I’ll help.” With a light step, he headed for the door.
Fortunate Timothy, not wondering if it was all right to care for someone.
As for him...was there any way to relieve Beth’s need to avoid him? Or was he completely wrong about the whole thing? He’d like to ease any fear she felt without offending her, and if he tried to say he didn’t feel that way about her, he’d be lying.
The afternoon wore on without any answer coming to him. He’d almost rather have more work than he could handle than to have the clock crawling along at a snail’s pace.
Finally it was near enough closing that he thought he could start getting ready for the closed day tomorrow. There was always a little extra to do in preparing for the Sabbath. That way he could get on his way to Beth’s promptly.
Daniel walked toward the rear of the store and stopped, arrested by a noise coming from behind the shelves in the far corner. It almost sounded as if someone were crying.
Anna, he thought. It must be. He stood undecided for a moment, having the usual male reaction to coping with someone’s tears. But if Anna needed help, he had a duty to give it.
Rounding the end of the shelf unit, he saw that he’d been right. Anna was crumpled into a heap on the step they used to reach the top shelf, trying to muffle her sobs with her apron.
He squatted down next to her. “I’m so sorry you’re upset. Do you want to go on home? I can get the buggy out and have you there in no time.”
Anna shook her head vigorously at that, choking on a sob to say she’d rather stay here. Giving a regretful thought toward the cider-pressing, Daniel sat down next to her.
“Is it your father? If you want me to talk to him...”
Another head shake, even stronger. “It’s not Daadi. But when he hears what I did...” That trailed off into a wail, and her flow of tears seemed inexhaustible.
Daniel sucked in a breath, trying to think of the comforting things his mother had said to him when everything was wrong. “Do you... Do you want to tell me about it?” He asked the question, hoping the answer was no. “If so, I promise not to tell anyone.”
Her sobs lessened. “You promise?”
“Yah, for sure.” What kind of trouble could a kid like Anna get into? It probably wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought.
“I thought... I thought I’d die when I knew. I wish I’d died.” Her voice rose, and he feared this was something way beyond his ability to cope with.
“If you’d rather talk to a woman, I could fetch Beth—”
“No, no. Not Beth. She can’t know.” She looked at Daniel, her face blotchy and tearstained, her eyes red. “You don’t understand. It was me. I was the one James was coming to the night he died.”
Daniel rocked back on his heels, nearly toppling over. Not Anna. Not a poor kid who already had more than her share of troubles. Anger soared. If he had James in front of him right now, all the faith in the world wouldn’t keep him from striking out.
He forced himself to focus on Anna. “I think you’d better tell me all of it.” He said the words as kindly as he could, given all the grief that had resulted from James’s action.
“It wasn’t...it wasn’t all that bad. I mean, all we did was talk. James was so kind.” Her eyes seemed to glow with the memory. “He just kissed me. Twice. That was all. He made me feel like I...like I was worth something.”
“Anna, you are worth something. You’re a good, kind, hardworking girl, no matter what anyone says.” And James had taken advantage of that, bolstering up his ego by persuading Anna into an action that would bring her under the discipline of the church.
“I’m not. I’m wicked.” The tears welled again.
Daniel had never felt quite as useless in his life. But one thing he did know. “You have to tell Beth. You know that, don’t you?”
Her sobs grew shrill, probably hysterical, not that he knew what that was like. Praying no one would come into the store, he spoke softly, trying to reason with her.
It was no use. Somehow, he’d known it wouldn’t be. Anna seemed incapable of facing Beth. He’d promised not to tell, so his hands were tied. How this would ever come right, he couldn’t imagine.
Beth paused on the back porch to check the progress of her cider-pressing. So many people had come early to help that she couldn’t believe how easily it had all come together. Daad had helped her set up the cider press, her oldest brother, Eli, had organized a team for picking the apples, and others in the family took care of washing and cutting the apples.
By now, the actual pressing had started, with everyone vying to be the one who turned the crank to crush the apples. Benjy and various cousins watched with fascination as the round metal plate was pushed down on the apples. Golden liquid began to flow into the bucket beneath the press.
Beth felt someone behind her and turned to find her grandmother.
“That’s Isaac’s press,” she said, and Beth wondered if Grossmammi was looking at the present or the past.
“Yah, it is. He gave it to me when he sold us the property.”
Grossmammi looked confused for just a second before making a mental adjustment. “It must be fifty years old. More, most likely. I remember the cider he used to make. Best in the county.”
Beth nodded. “He always said it was the apples he mixed that made the difference. This year we’re using a mix of Red Delicious for the sweetness and McIntosh for the tartness.”
“I... I don’t remember what Eli used.” Her faded blue eyes clouded with confusion.
“I think he especially liked the McIntosh from that one tree. Remember? He always said they were best for cider, didn’t he?”
Grossmammi’s eyes cleared, and she touched Beth’s cheek lightly. “Ach, I’m getting a bit forgetful. You’re a gut child, putting up with my wandering.”
“I’d rather listen to you wandering than most folks’ babbling.” She pressed her cheek against Grossmammi’s, a little more withered now than it had been even a year ago. Sometimes it seemed the old got smaller and smaller and lighter and lighter until they were ready to slip right up to Heaven.
Tears stung her eyes for a moment, and she blinked them away. Since James’s death, she’d found that tears came quicker about most anything.
Grossmammi’s hand closed over hers. “Just look at it.” Her gaze seemed to sweep the scene, from one group of workers to another, from the golden stubble in the fields to the golden leaves carpeting the ground and the red glow of the oaks on the ridges. “It’s beautiful. And it’s home.”
“Yah, it is.” Peace flowed through Beth, wiping away for the moment the worries and indecision of her situation. They’d be waiting to spring out at her, she supposed, but she’d cling to the peace of this moment as long as she could.
Mammi came out of the kitchen and joined them. “What are you two doing?”
Beth and her grandmother exchanged a smiling glance. Grossmammi always said that Beth’s mother couldn’t see anyone idle without giving them a job to do, to which Mammi would answer that anyone who’d raised five children would do the same.
“Just remembering,” Beth said. “Do you need some help, Mammi?”
Her mother shook her head. “Everything’s ready for supper whenever you want to take a break. Just say when. Is everyone here now?”
Beth didn’t need to look to see that Daniel wasn’t here. Nor was Anna, though she didn’t really expect Anna. She’d been firm in refusing the invitation.
But Daniel...she’d expected him to be here by now. She was ashamed to admit that she’d been watching for him. He might have been held up at the store, she supposed. And anyway, what difference did it make?
She looked down the lane for the twentieth time in the past hour. This time she spotted Daniel’s sturdy figure coming toward them at an easy pace.
Her heart lifted despite her effort to tamp down her feelings. “Here comes Daniel. I think he’s the last. But we’d better keep them working for now. You know how hard it is to get folks moving again after a gut meal.”
When Daniel reached the group, he headed for the press, greeting the men who’d begun to gather around it. That was what she expected, she told herself. There was no need for him to greet her, after all.
Just then Timothy hauled a protesting Benjy up the steps to her. “I don’t want to,” he was arguing vehemently.
“Ask your mammi,” Timothy said, unmoved. “If she says it’s all right, then it is. But I know what happens with my little brothers if they drink that much fresh cider.”
“How much?” Resigned to a bellyache, she detached her young son from Timothy’s grasp.
Timothy grinned. “Six cups that I saw, but there might have been more.”
“Will said he could drink ten cups of cider,” Benjy said indignantly. “And I said I could drink more than he could, and he said I couldn’t.”
Timothy shook his head, used to dealing with his young brothers. “I’d better collect Will before Daadi hears.”
“Send him into the house for some crackers,” Beth said. “Maybe that will absorb some of the cider. Denke, Timothy. I should have been watching for that.”
With a firm hand she guided her son into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink more than two cups?”
“But it was gut...” Benjy said, but he stopped, apparently realizing that his mother wouldn’t be moved.
In a few minutes Beth had her son and young Will at the table with some crackers in front of them. “There,” she said. “Eat all of those, even if you don’t want it. I told you not to drink more because too much fresh cider will make your tummy hurt.”
Her mother, who’d come in with them, sliced off a couple of pieces from the loaf on the counter and added them to the boys’ plates. “Bread will help, too. You want to be able to eat some of that fried chicken I brought, don’t you?”
Both of the boys nodded vigorously and applied themselves to eating. Mammi chuckled and glanced at Beth. “You go on and do what you need to do. I’ll keep track of these two.”
Hoping Timothy had caught the boys in time, Beth went out, wondering why little boys got twice as many bad ideas when they were together as when they were alone.
No sooner had she reached the bottom of the stairs than she found Daniel blocking her way. He hastily stepped back. “Sorry. I was just coming to look for you. Your daad wants to know if there are any more jugs for the cider. Looks like he’ll need about two more to finish up this pressing.”
There was no reason for her to feel awkward around Daniel, she reminded herself. He was the one who’d been unreasonable about Elijah Schmidt.
“I washed them all and put them in the pantry.” Gesturing him to follow her, she went back inside. “I’ll show you.”
She led him into the shelf-lined pantry, filled with canned foods. One section of shelves she used for canning jars and other containers, and on the floor she’d set the extra jugs. “Here you are.” She hesitated. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid...”
Daniel had bent to grasp the glass containers, but he straightened at that, the movement bringing him close to her. “I was delayed, or I’d have been here earlier. I wanted to say how sorry I am for the way I acted about Elijah Schmidt. I jumped to conclusions.”
Beth glanced down, not sure she wanted to meet his steady gaze. “It wasn’t your fault. I did intend to tell you about the offer. I just...well, I was trying to find the right way to do it.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Was he hoping she’d say she’d already refused the offer? She couldn’t do that, not when she didn’t know her own mind.
Apparently deciding she wasn’t going to say any more, Daniel bent and picked up two of the jugs. “It’s all right,” he said, his voice colorless, and walked out with the jugs.
Beth stood looking after him, frustrated with him and with herself. It was all very well to resolve to move forward, but how could she when her emotions were such a tangled mess?
Worship was at her friend Esther’s house on Sunday, so once Beth had turned her horse and buggy over to one of the boys taking care of them, she sent Benjy to join his grandparents and headed for the kitchen to see if she could help.
Esther, looking rather frazzled, was directing a kitchen crew consisting of her sisters along with the twins Ella and Della. Lydia must have come in just ahead of her, because she was already asking if she could help.
“I’ll help, as well,” Beth said, bumping her elbow against Lydia’s.
She grinned and added, “Yah, both of us.”
Esther looked at the clock and then at the workstations in her kitchen much as Beth had surveyed the cider-making crews the previous day. “Denke, but I think we’re all right now. If you’ll help with serving or cleanup...”
“Right, we’ll be here,” Lydia said, after a glance at Beth for her approval. She caught hold of Beth’s arm as they went out, stopping her when they were far enough from the various groups not to be heard.
“What’s wrong?” Her grasp tightened.
Beth, taken by surprise, could only stare. “Does it show?”
“Probably not to everyone,” Lydia said. “But you ought to know you can’t hide things from me.”
Beth glanced around to ensure that no one was nearby. Even so, she wouldn’t discuss her confused feelings over Daniel, not here. “Elijah Schmidt stopped by the house a couple days ago. He offered to buy my share of the store.”
Lydia’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a shock. I wouldn’t have thought he had ambitions to be a grocer.”
Beth hadn’t thought of that, but now that Lydia had mentioned it, she realized that it surprised her, as well. “I don’t know that he does,” she said slowly. “But he does seem...well, proud...of his businesses. And he offered me what seemed like quite a lot for it.”
“Are you going to accept?” Lydia seemed to be keeping her face deliberately blank.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m not asking you to tell me what to do. I’d just like to talk it over.” And something even more troubling to her peace of mind. “Can you come over after work? Maybe tomorrow?” Seeing her mother looking at her, she began moving.
“Definitely tomorrow,” Lydia said. “We’d best get in line, or your mother is going to blame me for detaining you. She always did think I talked too much. And she was probably right.”
Smiling, Beth squeezed her hand, relieved at just the thought of talking this over with a good friend. Lydia was the only one who knew enough to give her an unbiased opinion.
When she reached her family, Daad gave her a frowning look.
“They’re not ready to go in yet,” she pointed out, feeling as guilty as she would have in similar circumstances when she was a child. In some things, her parents didn’t think she’d grown up.
“Just don’t want you to be late.” He didn’t smile, but his eyes began to twinkle. “Your mamm and I remember how you girls always did talk.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she said. “Where is Benjy?”
“With your brother. He and Will want to sit together.”
Beth raised her eyebrows. “I hope he realizes what he’s in for. Those two boys together are five times as mischievous as they are one at a time.”
“They’re a pair of snickelfritzes, all right,” Daad said indulgently. “But Eli can handle them.”
Things were changing, Beth realized as she hurried to her place in the line. Not that long ago, Benjy had clung to her at the very suggestion of sitting apart from her. Now he’d trotted off without even asking her. Her little boy was growing up.
Before she could decide how that made her feel, the line began to move, and they were entering the pole barn for worship. Even as she sat down and the unmarried girls filed into the benches in front of her, she realized that Anna was missing. A quick glance showed her that the rest of the family was there. She hoped Anna wasn’t sick, both for her sake and because it was sometimes difficult to get along without her.
At the end of the three-hour service, she and Lydia scurried out to join the women who were serving. But Daad must have left quickly as well, because he caught up with her before she could reach the kitchen.
“A word with you,” he said. At his look, Lydia moved away.
“I’ll get started,” she said. “Don’t hurry.”
“What’s wrong, Daad?” His expression told her this was more serious than being late to get into line.
“There’s talk going around,” he said bluntly. “Talk that Elijah Schmidt is buying your share of the store.”
Beth saw red. “That man—I’d like to tell him just what I think. But not on the Sabbath,” she added. Hurriedly.
“So it’s not true?” Daad touched her arm and leaned a little closer, as if hinting that she shouldn’t lose control.
“It’s true he made an offer to buy my share.” She tried to arrange her thoughts. “It was that day I’d been baking with Mammi and Grossmammi. He stopped by when I got home. I certain sure didn’t say that I would. I haven’t even decided if I want to sell.”
Her father’s face seemed to relax. “I thought you wouldn’t do that without telling us.”
“I certain sure wouldn’t,” she said, a little indignant. “I want to have a talk with you about it. Soon. I want to do what’s best for Benjy.”
“It’s not right for Elijah to go around acting as if you’d decided.” Daad frowned. “I don’t understand why he’d do that.”
She thought she did, and she didn’t like it. “I think he’s trying to push me into selling.”
“Then he’s being foolish,” Daad said. “No one can do that.”
She was surprised at the implied compliment. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want your opinion.”
“I’ll look into it for you, if you want,” he said. “But your mamm and I know the decision has to be yours.” He patted her hand. “You’re recovering now. Getting more like yourself after the shock. We trust you to make the right choices.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
He chuckled. “If I tried to tell you what to do, you’d think I was interfering, ain’t so?”
Beth squeezed his arm. “You are a very gut father. Do you know that?”
“I had gut material to work with,” he replied.
“Denke, Daadi.” Her heart warmed.
“One thing,” Daad said, cautioning. “You’ll talk to Daniel about it, ain’t so? After all, he and James built that business together.”
She nodded, hearing the truth of his words. The little they’d spoken about it could hardly be called an actual conversation. She had to do that, no matter how uncomfortable it was.