WHERE ARE YOU off to this morning, child?” Elizabeth asked in the early morning light. “You’ve barely picked at your food.”
It was Monday morning, and Beth had not missed the fact that Tabby had gone to her room as soon as evening chores were finished. Nor did she miss her niece’s swollen eyes and bright pink nose.
“I’m fine, Aenti Beth,” Tabitha murmured. “I wanted to rebuild the worm box today before it gets warm outside.” “That’s men’s work,” Fram muttered, pointing with his fork.
Elizabeth smiled wryly. “Does that mean that you plan to help Tabby?”
Her bruder looked taken aback. “Me? Nee. . . planned on fishing. I will need some bait worms though.”
Elizabeth was surprised when Tabby rose from the table and spoke tartly. “Well, you’ll have to dig them yourself, Onkel Fram. I’ve already got mine and plan on using their castings as kitchen garden fertilizer.”
“Sassy maedel,” Fram grunted.
Elizabeth hid a smile but still could not suppress her worry for Tabby as the girl washed the dishes in silence and then went outside.
“You should have taken a firmer hand with her over the years, Lizzie,” Fram commented, draining his coffee cup.
“Tabby is a wunderbar young woman, Fram.”
He snorted. “A wonderful young woman would share her worms.”
Elizabeth sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache come on as she wheeled away from the table.
Tabitha dug her hands into the moist layers of shredded newspaper, peat moss, manure, and leaves. She knew the environment that would grow chubby worms, which meant richer castings after the worms ate the kitchen scraps from two nights a week. She tried hard to focus on the mundane subject of worm food because it was so far from any thought of John Miller, but still, his handsome face danced behind her eyes.
Whatever would he think of me if he knew I loved him? He can never know, of course, because he’d see it as a betrayal of Rob—and it is. But I cannot help my heart. . . ach, Gott, what should I do?
And then, like a heart echo, Gott seemed to speak to her. She rose from her earthy job to go to the pump and wash her hands with the lye soap that was there. She would go and see Rob’s mamm because that was what Derr Herr told her to do, and she understood His voice well enough to know to obey.
John forced his breakfast down, then spoke up as his mamm prepared to rise to clear the table.
“Uh, Mamm, a moment, sei se gut. . . I would speak with you all.”
His mother sank back onto the bench, her blue eyes wide with expectancy.
John glanced at his daed, then down the table to Matthew and Esther. How can I leave them? How can I leave. . . her?
“John,” Matt snapped. “I’m falling asleep here.”
“Right. Okay, well—I’ve decided that I’m going to go up to the mountains to work with Onkel Samuel.”
The silence was as thick as butter, and then everyone burst out talking at once.
“Are you narrisch?” Matt demanded.
“But, John,” his mamm wailed. “I thought you were going to tell us about some girl at last!”
“What is wrong with you?” Esther shrilled above the din.
“Sohn, are you sure?” His daed laid a hand on John’s sleeve.
John hung his head for a moment, then got to his feet slowly. Everyone quieted.
“I have to do this. I—I’ll miss all of you, of course, but I feel called to geh.” He swallowed hard. “Please accept this. I could use your support.”
His daed nodded slowly. “Ya, sohn, if you must . . . we will support your decision.”
When his fater spoke in low, measured tones, everyone ceased their protests. John could feel the change in the atmosphere and was grateful for it.
He left the now quiet kitchen and went upstairs to his bedroom. He had the sudden urge to hold the puppy, Tumble, and withdrew it gently from its comfortable box near his bed.
He stroked the puppy with a gentle hand. “I suppose Esther will have you when I’m gone, little one.”
“Esther’ll have to fight Mamm for that dog,” Matt said from the doorway.
John half turned with a faint smile. “Kumme in.”
Matthew entered, closing the door behind him, and took a seat at the desk. John raised an eyebrow in question. “Have you been sent to talk me out of going?”
“Nee, that’ll be Esther later. I came to ask something a bit more personal.”
“And?” John asked.
“Are you leaving because something happened between you and Tabby? I mean—you just started courting, and now you’re on the go . . . what went wrong?”
John looked down at the puppy and shook his head. “Nothing. I—we—thought it would be a gut experience.”
“Because you both plan on leaving Paradise for the wild woods someday?”
“Look, Matt—”
His younger bruder held up a hand. “I know—it’s none of my business. But if it were me—”
“And it is not you,” John pointed out evenly.
“Nee. . . but if it were, I wouldn’t leave as fine a maedel as Tabby Beiler left on her own for long. Someone else is bound to want to court her.”
Dear Gott, let Rob kumme home soon. The prayer beat like an echoing refrain round John’s brain until he almost dizzily put the puppy back in her box.
“Danki for the advice, little bruder.” John got to his feet. “I’d better start packing.”
Matt gave him a good-natured grin. “Fair enough—the least I can do is help a bit. When are you planning on leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning, I guess.”
The words came simply enough to John’s lips, but he felt a heaviness in his heart that had all the weight of an old ship’s bell. With deep reluctance he turned to his dresser to begin sorting clothes to pack.
“I don’t have a pie, Frau Yoder, but I felt led by Derr Herr to come and see you this morning.” Tabitha waited anxiously for the older woman’s response, wondering if she had heard Gott correctly.
“Well, best to kumme in then. You can help me scent a couple batches of soap I’ve got going.” Ann Yoder widened the door, and Tabitha stepped inside. She realized that the usual feelings she had in relation to Rob were absent—there was no heart pounding or drinking in of each random object with her eyes. It was almost like she had wakened from an enchanted dream but to a much stronger and beautiful reality.
She would always care for Rob, she knew, but only as a friend. And somehow, I must find the strength in Gott to tell him so when he returns. And at all costs, John must never know of how I really feel or it would break his and Rob’s friendship for sure.
“Are you paying attention to me?” Ann Yoder’s tart voice demanded an answer, and Tabitha came back to the present moment.
“Ya, ma’am. Sorry.”
“All right then.”
Tabitha followed Ann through the small house to the back porch, which was actually a wide room filled with bubbling sounds and a myriad of delicious scents.
“Ach, this is lovely,” Tabitha exclaimed, reaching a finger toward a small brown bottle labeled Petigrain. She got her hand slapped for her trouble, and Ann frowned up at her.
“No touching unless I tell you to. The wrong scent or oil can ruin a batch of soap. Take Petigrain, for example, that’s for refreshment and relaxation, but if you’re wanting something more—potent—like Neroli, for skin healing, you’d not be doing yourself a favor.”
“How did you learn all of this?” Tabitha lifted a cautious hand to gesture at the bottles and large pots.
“My mamm taught me as her mamm taught her. And I’ll tell you that my buwe, Rob, knows a bit more than he’d like to admit about the soap-making business.”
Tabitha smiled politely, but her thoughts drifted back to John. How am I going to stand it when he’s gone?
But she was soon absorbed in the task of shaving and molding soaps, and hours passed without her even realizing it.
“There’s a storm coming up,” Ann Yoder observed. “Looks like a bad one.”
Tabitha glanced out the porch window and saw that the fluffy clouds of the morning had fled in the face of an ominous blackness.
“I’d better get home,” she said, thinking of her Aenti Beth.
“Well, I can’t say I didn’t appreciate your help. By the way, once this storm clears out, I’m due to make a phone call to Rob. I’ll be glad to tell him about you and John Miller.”
Tabitha dropped the rose mold she was holding. I cannot let Frau Yoder speak to Rob first—I have to talk to Rob, explain something. . . that it was a just a story. . . not true love—
She thought fast. She’d memorized the number to Rob’s grossdaudi’s phone shack, and now she was determined as to what she should do. She bid a hasty farewell to Ann Yoder and ran out onto the porch. It was a half mile across newly planted fields to get to the phone shack, and it had begun to rain, heavy, soaking drops that pelted at her as she made her way down the stairs.
Soon she was slipping through the field, jumping between rows, which were fast turning into muddy puddles dotted with sharp balls of spring hail.
Tabitha finally gained the phone shack and flung open the small door only to stop in sudden surprise.
John stood inside the wooden shack, his dark hair and shirt plastered wetly to his big body. He held the phone receiver in his hand and he stared at her for only a second before speaking hoarsely.
“I’m calling for an ambulance. My daed’s had a heart attack.”