Beth Ann wasn’t surprised when, as they walked away from the school trailers, Robert said he had to get to work. She asked him to tell the others she wouldn’t be there that day because she had to arrange for Tommy to be enrolled at the day care center. With a curt nod, Robert strode toward Washboard Brook and the new houses north of the center of Evergreen Corners.
He acted as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her and the children. Guilt tugged at her. Had she forced him into helping because she was overwhelmed with being responsible for three children? He’d come to Evergreen Corners to help rebuild, and he was assisting with finishing the apartments in David Riehl’s barn. In addition, he wanted to make sure the covered bridge didn’t collapse. Instead of respecting how much he had on his mind, she’d roped him into helping her with the kids.
Somehow, she needed to apologize to him for assuming he had the time and energy to help. While she’d been praying for God to show her a way to move forward with her life, his prayers were very different.
She shuddered. If she apologized, would he think that she didn’t want him to help further? She must choose her words with care. She didn’t want the children to feel as if they were being abandoned again.
You enjoy his company, too, chided her conscience.
Robert could be prickly, but he wasn’t able to hide his generous heart. He’d come to Evergreen Corners to volunteer and make a difference.
Tommy tugged on her sleeve, yanking her from her thoughts. “Me next?”
“You are next,” she said with a smile. She swung their hands as they walked along the sidewalk bordered by icy snow.
Watching his uneven steps, she asked, “Have you ever seen a brace like mine, Tommy?”
He glanced at her leg, then shook his head. “Nope.”
“So you’ve never worn one, too?”
“Nope.” Confusion knitted his forehead.
Not wanting to upset the little boy, she changed the subject to Thanksgiving, which was the following week. She asked about what he wanted to eat and laughed when he suggested quesadillas.
“Quesadillas for Thanksgiving? That’s interesting.”
Bouncing from one foot to the other and swaying on his weak leg, he said, “Yummy, too.” Without a pause, he asked, “What’s a quesadilla?”
Again she chuckled. “Sort of like a grilled cheese sandwich but with a tortilla instead of bread. You haven’t ever had one?”
He shook his head. “I heard someone talking about them.”
“Well, we’ll have to try making some. Not for Thanksgiving, because I don’t think I’d like them with turkey.”
“Okay,” he said before he began chattering about everything around them as they walked to the small white church near the bridge at the village’s heart. He was interested in the activity at the old mill. It was the last building on the four corners that hadn’t reopened, but the mill, which housed artists and artisans, was scheduled to open its doors soon.
“I don’t know,” Beth Ann had to say more than once as he asked questions about the building. She didn’t know what had been made there. She didn’t know if there would be shops selling candy or ice cream. “I’ll try to find out.”
That seemed to satisfy him because the little boy began to talk about how fun it was to drop branches off the bridge and watch them zip away on the current between the ice edging both banks like the crust of a half-eaten pie.
Tommy became silent as Beth Ann led him into the cellar of the church. His voice vanished when they were enfolded by the sounds of other children, happy children who were singing what she guessed was a nursery rhyme.
The room was decorated in a rainbow of colors splashed across the tables and the chairs, the pictures on the walls, and rubber tiles on the floor. One of the half dozen children pointed toward them, and a woman who must be Gwen O’Malley smiled at them. In her long denim skirt and simple blouse, she looked plain. She didn’t wear a kapp and her hair, as red as Tommy’s, was loose around her shoulders.
Beth Ann introduced herself and Tommy and explained why they were there.
Gwen nodded, her sympathetic eyes becoming cheerful. “Of course, we’d love to have Tommy join us.”
“The paperwork—”
“Can be filled out when you come to pick him up.” Gwen’s smile widened. “We’re having fun, and this would be a good time for Tommy to join us.”
With a grateful smile, Beth Ann bent to tell Tommy he was going to stay and she was leaving.
His lower lip began to tremble. “Don’t leave me, too,” he moaned.
She closed her eyes as his pain battered her heart. “I’m coming back, Tommy. I promise.”
“Aunt Sharon said that.”
“I am coming back. If I don’t pick you up, who will help me frost the cake for dessert tonight?”
His face brightened. “Don’t forget!”
“I won’t.” She’d stop at the village’s general store and get confectioner’s sugar to make a simple buttercream frosting to spread on a layer cake that had been waiting in a box on the landing that morning. She should be able to manage not to mess it up.
“I get penders?”
“Let’s see what happens after we decorate the cake.” She had no idea what he meant, but maybe she’d guess by the time she picked him up. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So you’ll stay with us?” asked Gwen as she held out her hand.
Tommy grasped it. “Do you have crayons?”
“Lots and lots,” she said with a laugh.
“And pretty paper?”
“Take a look around, Tommy. We’ve got a lot of crayons and paper.”
“Dougie and Crystal made pictures at school. Mommy used to put them on the fridge. I want to make you pictures, Beth Ann. Will you put them on the fridge, too?”
“I’d be honored to decorate our kitchen with your pictures, Tommy.”
The little boy chattered with Gwen as if they were best friends.
Beth Ann left while he was distracted. At the small general store not far from the library, she discovered they didn’t sell confectioner’s sugar. She didn’t have time to go to the big grocery store at the edge of town. Her dismay must have shown, because the young girl behind the counter suggested she might be able to borrow some from the community center kitchen.
Thanking her for the suggestion, Beth Ann headed in that direction. She’d take the sugar to the apartment, giving herself the chance to put in a load of laundry. She’d have a head start on the chore she needed to have done if the kids were going to have something clean to wear tomorrow. They needed more clothing, but it would have to wait until the first check arrived from DCF.
She paused to stamp snow off her boots. She opened the door and was about to call a greeting, but halted when she saw a group gathered in the main room. The women—all plain except for one Englisch woman—looked up from their sewing machines.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You aren’t interrupting.” Abby Kauffman, who oversaw the kitchen volunteers, stood. Her right cheek was streaked with whatever she’d been baking in the kitchen for the evening meal.
“What’s going on?”
“A project aimed at keeping you out of the laundry room every day. Robert told his sister and me you’ve been spending too much time there.”
“I don’t understand.”
Abby flung her hand toward the tables holding stacks of clothing. “Those have been donated by folks in town. We’re making sure they’ll fit Dougie, Crystal and Tommy. The buttons are being sewn on and the seams secured.”
Beth Ann put her fingers to her lips to hold in her gasp. There must have been enough clothing for a dozen children. “The children are growing fast. They’ll outgrow these clothes before you know it.”
“Don’t worry,” said the elderly Englisch woman. “We’re leaving nice big hems so they can be let down. I taught that lesson in my home ec classes.”
Abby chuckled. “That’s right, Doris.” To Beth Ann, she added, “Doris taught sewing and cooking classes at the high school. She’s our expert. By the time we’re finished following her instructions, each of your children will have enough clothes to last them a week or two.”
“Thank you.” For the first time in more than a year, Beth Ann felt as if she belonged somewhere with people who cared about her. She hadn’t known how alone she’d felt in the wake of her grandmother’s death and the loss of her clinic.
And she realized something else. Robert had instigated this to help her and the children. It wasn’t the act of a man who wanted to wash his hands of three troublesome kids and one demanding woman.
Warmth swept over her, and tears rolled down her cheeks. As Abby gave her a hug, Beth Ann hurried to reassure her and the other women she was crying with joy. They teased her about how she’d be able to spend her time when she wasn’t doing laundry.
She welcomed the jokes because they were a sign she was becoming a true part of the plain community in Evergreen Corners. The laughter also concealed her delight at learning she hadn’t coerced Robert into helping. His sympathy for the hours she devoted to laundry and how he’d stepped up without any fanfare to help kept her smiling the rest of the day.
Robert paused on the street and looked in the direction of the covered bridge. Clouds were low, and with the earlier sunset, the bridge was obscured in twilight. He didn’t want to think about the disappointing discussion with Glen Landis earlier.
The bridge was worth saving, though the recovery project manager had guessed the town would need to put in millions of dollars even if the state agreed to pay for the rest of the repairs. Robert wasn’t going to give up. The battered bridge refused to give in. It spoke to him in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d been beaten, too, but he’d weathered his daed’s outbursts. Since his return to Evergreen Corners, he’d spent so much time staring at the structure and wandering around on it that he could re-create every inch by memory.
Just as he could Beth Ann’s face.
The realization shook him. Too often during the day, thoughts of her slipped into his mind. Sometimes, it was when he heard her voice or her laughter from another room, but images of her smile too frequently managed to sneak into his head. Every effort to halt it had been worthless.
Heading to the community center, he intended to surround himself with other people, people who could help him keep his mind off Beth Ann and the kinder. He’d lose himself in talk of work and the weather and anything but a woman with remarkable green eyes.
He opened the door and stepped inside, drawing in the delicious aroma of roasted chicken and fresh kaffi. As he started to shrug off his coat, he heard his name called from the kitchen.
His sister Rachel rushed to him. Her hair beneath her white kapp was as black as his, but she was short while he towered over everyone around them. However, anyone who underestimated his sister because of her size was put to rights. She was, without question, one of the smartest people he’d ever met. Her ability to look at a problem and find a solution was one he envied.
So why haven’t you told her about Daed’s debts and how you’re struggling to find a way to repay them?
He ignored that question as he smiled and greeted her. “Where are the girls? They can eat with me, if you’d like. I’m getting quite a bit of experience in helping the little kinder with their meals.”
His nieces were younger than the Henderson kids, but the skills he’d learned helping Tommy would serve as well with little Loribeth and Eva.
“Danki, but the girls have already eaten.” She crooked a finger and turned. “Komm with me. I’ve got a job for you.”
His heart kicked up its speed, but he reminded himself she had no idea he needed a job and how fruitless his efforts of asking around town had been. “Now?”
“Ja.” She hooked her arm through his. “Don’t look so glum, little brother.”
“What do you need me to do?” He went into the kitchen and waved to the women working under Abby’s supervision.
Rachel pointed to two large grocery bags on a table. “Take those to Beth Ann’s.”
“What?”
“You were here when she brought Dougie Henderson in, and you saw how much he liked chicken and biscuits. We’re having it again for supper tonight, so Abby thought we should send some to Beth Ann and the kinder.”
“Abby thought, did she?”
Rachel flushed. “There’s enough for them...and for you, if you’d like.”
“Playing matchmaker, ain’t so?”
“Me?” She shook her head. “You know how much I disliked it when Abby tried to play matchmaker for me and Isaac.”
If his sister hadn’t...? Abby ducked her head as she went to check something on the stove. Maybe his sister wasn’t trying to interfere, but Abby hadn’t given up her matchmaking ways.
He considered telling them they had the wrong man. He halted himself. The kinder had enjoyed the chicken and biscuits the night he and Beth Ann had discovered them in the appalling house. If he refused to take the bags to the apartment, he was thinking of his own feelings, not theirs.
“All right,” he said, picking up both bags by their sturdy handles.
“Tell Beth Ann to send the dishes back when they’re empty.” Rachel winked at him. “Or you can bring them back yourself.”
“Matchmaking doesn’t look gut on you, big sister.”
She slapped his arm. “Go on. The food is getting cold.”
Robert walked into the main room. Every eye focused on him as he opened the door. Was everyone in the plain community involved in Abby’s matchmaking? Telling himself not to be ridiculous, he left.
The clouds lurking in a low ridge across the sky had descended to envelop the top of the mountains in a gray wool embrace. Snowflakes flew on gusts of wind cold enough for the North Pole.
Delicious scents from the bags made his stomach rumble, and he quickened his steps up the sloped street. He glanced at the windows glowing onto the mayor’s front porch. No sign of her, which was just as well. The best thing he could do was deliver supper and leave.
When Robert knocked on the door, he heard eager squeals of “I’ll get it.”
Both Tommy and Crystal stood there as the door swung open.
“It’s Robert!” Tommy shouted.
“Come in!” Crystal reached out to grab his hand, but halted when she saw the bags. “He’s brought presents!”
Dougie asked from the couch, “Presents?”
Robert stepped inside as Beth Ann emerged from the bunkroom. Her arms were filled with clothing. Clothing for the kinder, he realized when she set it on a chair.
“Some of the ladies have been remaking clothes for the children,” Beth Ann said in lieu of a greeting. “Apparently I’ve been complaining about doing laundry too much.”
“You haven’t,” he replied.
“You have!” chorused three kinder, and the younger two began to giggle.
Tommy asked, “Any penders?”
“Penders?” She looked at the older kinder. “Do you know what he means?”
“Penders! Like his!” He pointed to Robert’s chest before looking at Beth Ann. “He’s wearing penders.”
“Suspenders.” Robert laughed.
“Want some!” Tommy pleaded. “Can I have some, please?”
She put her arm around his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Let’s see what we can find next time at the store. What do you have there, Robert?”
“Supper.” He held up the bags. “Chicken and biscuits, to be exact. Abby remembered how much you like them, so she sent servings for you. Anyone interested?”
“Yes!” shouted the kinder.
“They’re getting tired of my lack of cooking skills,” Beth Ann said with a rueful smile.
“I’m sure you—”
Dougie interrupted, “Don’t say that until you’ve had her scorched cookies.”
“I had delicious ones when you moved in.”
“Gladys made those,” she admitted, a pretty blush climbing her cheeks. “I’ve never learned to cook or bake, though I try. So this delivery from the community center kitchen is extra welcome, isn’t it, kids?”
Without being asked, the kids rushed to set the table.
“There’s your answer,” Beth Ann said with a laugh. “You’ll be staying, too, won’t you, Robert? Or did you have other plans tonight?”
He appreciated her giving him a way to leave without any explanation, but he was astonished he was also annoyed she thought he needed it. He was further irritated she was right. He’d spent the walk up to the apartment planning to leave as soon as he delivered the meal.
“I’ll get you a chair, Robert!” announced Crystal before he could answer.
Beth Ann started to speak, but he shook his head to let her know he was okay with the girl bringing another chair to the table.
Minutes later, they were seated around the table, their heads bowed while Beth Ann said grace. He added his own silent prayer before he lifted his head and reached for his knife and fork.
The younger kinder wanted to share every detail of their day, but Dougie stared at his plate and scowled. That didn’t stop the older boy from shoveling food into his mouth so fast Robert had to wonder if he tasted it.
When Beth Ann stood to get the dessert included with their dinner, Robert offered to help her bring it in. He saw her amazement, and again was impressed with how much she understood about Amish ways. Men didn’t help in the kitchen, but most Amish men hadn’t encountered a situation like this one.
He was pleased to discover Abby had put a blueberry pie and an apple one into the bags.
“Which should we have?” he asked.
“Whichever you prefer. A few days ago, I would have said the apple one, because I’m not sure I could get blueberry stains out of Tommy’s clothes. Now he’s got lots to wear.”
He laughed along with her. Being with Beth Ann was easy tonight. In the wake of a difficult day, he appreciated her sense of humor that pushed aside worry. He guessed it was a technique she’d refined as a midwife when nervous parents awaited the arrival of their bopplin.
Offering to slice cheese to go along with the warm pie, he did so until a white-hot pain sliced across the index finger on his left hand. “Ouch!”
“What did you do?” she asked as she turned from where she was setting a piece of pie on a plate.
He examined his bleeding finger. “Cut it on the knife.”
She held out her hand, but said nothing. He didn’t put his bloody finger on her palm. Instead, he held it up in front of her eyes. Taking his hand, she turned it one way, then the other.
“It doesn’t look as if it’ll need stitches, but we need to get it tended to,” she said with gentle authority.
“I’m a big boy. I don’t need my mamm bandaging my boo-boos.”
She smiled. “Big boys know how important it is to get an antiseptic on a cut.” She turned on the tap. “Hold it under the water while I get the first aid kit.”
The icy water sent pain erupting from his finger, but he held it under the faucet, knowing she was right. He needed to get the wound clean.
She came back with a small white box. With a few deft moves, she cleaned his finger and spread ointment on the cut. She put a pad against his finger and bound it in place with gauze.
“Leave this on until tomorrow morning,” she said. “You’ll have to be careful when you peel the bandaging off because it probably will stick to you. If there’s a problem, soak it in warm, soapy water until the bandaging loosens.”
“Soapy water? What kind of soap?”
She smiled. “Dish detergent works fine, but make sure the water is clean and change it before you do the dishes.”
“I would have figured that out on my own.”
“You’d be surprised how many don’t.”
He looked from her to his finger. “Danki.”
Putting what she’d used into the first aid box, she said, “You’re welcome. Try to use the knife as it’s intended, okay?”
“Ja, especially when I’m not with a midwife.”
“Former midwife.”
He frowned, unable to mistake the sudden emptiness in her voice. “You’ve given up the work?”
“I’m not licensed in Vermont.” She changed the subject before he could probe further. “The kids won’t be patient much longer waiting on their slices of pie.” She picked up three plates and motioned for him to grab the other two.
He followed her into the main room where he served himself and Crystal. The kinder were as thrilled with the blueberry pie as he was, and everyone was shocked when Tommy finished every bite without dropping any on himself...until he spilled his milk in his excitement.
By the time Beth Ann had cleaned up the little boy, it was late enough to get the kinder ready for bed. Dougie was allowed to stay up an hour later, but he had homework to fill his time.
Robert cleaned the table, rinsed off the dishes and repacked what he’d brought in one bag. There weren’t any leftovers, except for the untouched apple pie, despite Abby sending enough for a half dozen men who were starving after a long day of physical labor.
Beth Ann came into the kitchen with two chairs. She set them in the middle of the room. “Would you like another cup of coffee?”
“Too late if I want to get any sleep tonight.”
“I’ve got decaf.”
He was reluctant to let the evening end. He stared out the window, where the gentle snowstorm had become a wind-whipped swirl of ice and flakes. Thinking about the distance he had to walk to get home, he knew it would be better to have something warm inside him. “Sounds gut.”
When she set a steaming cup and a piece of the pie on the counter beside him, he reached to close the door.
She halted him and shifted the door to where it’d been. “If you close it, I can’t see any eavesdroppers.”
Swallowing his chuckle, he reached for the cup and sat on the chair beside the counter. He sighed before he could halt himself.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“Just okay? Did something go wrong today at the project house?”
“Not at the house. I spoke with Glen about the bridge.”
“Glen’s a nice guy.”
He took a sip of his kaffi. “I agree, but he reminded me his job is rebuilding homes.”
“What about the bridge? It’s an important structure, too, isn’t it?”
“While folks are inconvenienced by having to drive out of their way, they can get in and out without the bridge. They’ve got homes. He’s saving resources for those who don’t. He spoke about having to get a structural engineer and experienced stonemasons and carpenters to rebuild the bridge.”
“Abby’s brother, Isaac, is a mason. Can’t he—?”
“I’ve been told Isaac doesn’t feel he’s got the skills for what the bridge requires. He’s an expert with pouring foundations for houses, not a bridge.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
He almost answered her question with a trite response. He halted himself. She’d listened, even before the kinder brought them more deeply into each other’s lives. She deserved an honest answer.
“I need the work,” he said.
“More than you’re already doing?”
“I need a paying job if I hope to stay in Evergreen Corners.”
“Are you looking to buy a farm?”
He shook his head and laughed. “I know every Amish man is supposed to want to be a farmer, but I’ve had enough of that life. Old Terry—”
“Who?”
“He was our neighbor when I was about Dougie’s age.” He looked past her as he spoke the boy’s name, but if Dougie had heard him, the boy gave no sign. “He was a woodworker, and he taught me to appreciate wood and the beautiful and useful things made from it.”
She got up and refilled their cups. “So you’re looking for a temporary job until you get your shop open?”
“Ja.” He wouldn’t reveal the truth about his daed’s debts. His sisters would have helped. For him. Not for Daed. People would be curious about why they were such unloving kinder. Tales of his daed’s uncontrolled temper would emerge, and eyes would begin to watch Robert for signs he was like Manassas Yoder.
It had happened before. In Ohio when rumors of the abuse rumbled through the plain community. He didn’t want to have to face scrutiny again.
Beth Ann sat. “Have you talked to Isaac himself about the bridge?”
“No.”
“Instead of asking everyone else, talk to him. If he agrees to help, you’ll be in a stronger position. If he doesn’t...” She leaned forward. “I’ll be praying he says yes. I mean, he says ja.”
He guessed she was teasing him to pull him out of his bad mood, and he had to admit she was doing a great job. She was sensible, persuasive and lovely as the kitchen light lit auburn flickers through her hair. An idea popped into his head, and he gave it voice before he could convince himself not to.
“Isaac is up north. Rachel said he’ll be home by Thanksgiving. Komm to Thanksgiving with us. She’s been wanting to meet you and the kinder. It’s the least I can do to say danki for bandaging my finger.”
“True. It’s the least you can do when your sister is making the meal.”
He chuckled. Trading words with Beth Ann was fun. When she agreed to bring the Henderson kids, he felt something open up deep inside him, something he hadn’t known existed. Happiness. Simple, thrilling happiness.
However, he warned himself he couldn’t let himself enjoy her company too much. Savoring it could lead to the courtship that whispers suggested they already were sharing. He must not offer her more than friendship when he couldn’t be certain when the beast of his temper would awaken.
Because his mamm, when she warned about how an uncontrollable temper infected all Yoder men, might not have been wrong.