ELIZABETH GLANCED AT the clock and realized that the evening had gone by quickly with the tender puppy in her lap for company while Tabby was at the singing. Beth had soaked the rolled edge of a scrap of flannel in warm milk and the small creature had used nearly all of its energy to suck at the nourishment. Now the gray and white ball cuddled with cozy ease beneath Beth’s hands, bringing a smile to her aged lips.
She looked up as the door opened and Tabitha slipped inside, her fair cheeks flushed and her blue eyes bright. “You look troubled, child. Did the singing go well?”
“The singing . . . um, ya. Surely.” The girl crossed the room to kneel at Elizabeth’s side, putting out a gentle finger to stroke the puppy.
Elizabeth eyed her niece’s bent-down, kapped head. “And was John Miller there this evening?”
Tabitha lifted her head quickly. “Ya, but why do you ask?”
“Ach, it seems we’ve been seeing a bit more of him lately . . . I simply wondered if his pup was faring as well as this one.” Elizabeth wondered at the flash of relief she saw in Tabby’s wide blue eyes but chose to ignore it for the moment. “What do you plan on naming the hund, child?”
“Rough.” Tabby swallowed. “I’m going to call him Rough since he survived and his fur has that edge to it.”
“A gut name. It was surely Derr Herr’s will that John recognized that Englischer and his truck. I cannot understand such cruelty as trying to drown a bag of puppies.”
“Ya,” Tabby agreed softly. “Do you want me to take him up to my room for the nacht after I help you get ready for bed?”
“Would you think me a selfish auld woman if I asked you to share Rough with me? I find him comforting.”
Elizabeth cherished the soft young lips that were quickly pressed to her cheek. “Of course not, Aenti Beth. Sei se gut have him every nacht. Kumme, I’ll help you get settled together.”
Elizabeth caught Tabby’s hand and held it for a long moment. “Tabby, I wanted to tell you that I’ve had word that your uncle Fram is coming for a visit.” She paused and then swallowed. “He wants to—look over the property.”
“What?” Tabby’s voice rose a bit. “Why, he’s so nasty, Aenti Bath, even if he is your younger bruder. And ‘look over the property’? What right does he have to kumme and—”
“Shhh,” Elizabeth soothed quietly. “You know as well as I do that if anything happens to me, Fram will likely inherit the haus. It is what he wants, after all.”
“But nothing is going to happen to you,” Tabby protested with the calm assurance of youth.
Elizabeth smiled. “Nee, but we must still work to make him welcome. Will you try, child?”
Tabby gave a great sigh, then nodded with visible reluctance. “Ya, Aenti Beth, I will try. Anything for you.” The girl seemed about to say something else but then was silent.
“Kumme then,” Elizabeth patted the arm of the wheelchair. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
“Tabitha Beiler, hmmm?” Matthew gave a low whistle of approval from where he perched on the kitchen table munching an oatmeal raisin cookie.
John cast his bruder a sour look. “Look, be quiet, will you? Mamm and Daed might not be sleeping yet.”
Esther clasped her hands together and looked sweet and distinctly happy for once. “Ach, John, I’m so glad that it’s not Barbara Esch. I tell you she was fit to be tied tonight when word got round about you and Tabby. You didn’t even let Mamm and Fater know.”
John sighed and took a deep swallow of cold milk while running a gentle hand over the huddled puppy in the box. This is going to turn into a circus faster than I can control it—I have to not panic, that’s all. . . and I have to write to Rob tonight. I can only imagine what he would think if he heard somehow that I—but still, this is all Rob’s doing—his asking for secrecy, for lies.
“John,” Matt hissed.
“What?”
“Esther, geh upstairs,” Matt suddenly insisted. “I want to talk to John about—manly things.”
“Ach, pooh,” Esther frowned, then flounced to the stairs. “I am only going up so that I can think of the proper flowers we might use to decorate. You know that November rolls around fast, John.”
November—the time most weddings took place in the community. . . suppose Rob wasn’t back in six months? Then what?
John put his cup in the sink and started to automatically wash it, trying not to think too hard. Then Matt cleared his throat.
“What?” John snapped.
“So are you courting her?”
“Maybe.” John felt himself flush against his will, and Matt chortled.
“At last.” He slapped John on the back. “When did you decide you liked her?”
“I don’t talk of such things,” John quipped. “Besides, who do you have your eye on these days?”
Matt scowled. “Never mind.”
John couldn’t resist a smile at his bruder’s morose expression. “Don’t worry. You’re find the right woman some day.”
“But it looks like she’s hiding. I’m seeking and I’m not finding.” Matt admitted reluctantly. “In fact, last night all I found was a clothesline. Almost choked myself.”
John laughed and took his turn giving a pat on the back. “You’ll get over it. After all, he who seeks finds!”
Matt’s good humor returned, and he grinned. “Yeah, but not for you, big bruder. You’re done seeking. Congratulations.”
John nodded, tightening his jaw. The enormity of the deception he was about to perpetrate with Tabitha hit him hard. People might get hurt. . . and all of this for Rob. But he nodded just the same at his bruder. “Danki, Matt. Thank you.”
Tabitha undressed slowly and started to pray even before she sought her bed. She had realized downstairs that her plan with John would ultimately fool Aenti Beth and possibly hurt her when she discovered the truth.
Tabitha sat on the edge of her bed and lowered her face into her hands. How can I do such a thing? It’s a massive lie. . . but Rob wanted this—for me to be watched over. And it can’t be for long. . . Rob has got to come home soon. He’s got to.
She rationalized that it would only be a brief deception and could be kept very casual and quiet. In addition she knew that, although the youth might gossip to desperation among themselves, there was an unspoken code among them not to mention anything to older folks at home. Courtship was to be kept a secret so that no one would be hurt should the relationship not work out.
She lay down and thought idly of what John’s strong hands would look like in the mellow fall of melting wax, then jerked her consciousness up in a sharp mental pull. Why am I thinking about John? It’s probably because he’s so close to Rob too and misses him dearly. She comforted herself with the thought, then began to pray again.