When Beth Ann tugged on his arm, drawing Robert away from the kinder, he was amazed he could move when every muscle seemed frozen. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked by the state of the house where the Hendersons lived or by his reaction to Beth Ann’s touch. A shimmer of sensation rippled out from where her fingertips had brushed the bare skin of his wrist.
Wrong time, his head warned his heart. The last thing he needed now was to begin a relationship. He was in debt up to his ears, and he had no prospects for a job beyond his volunteer work. Worse, he hadn’t learned how to tame the temper he’d inherited from his daed.
Beth Ann’s mind was on more practical matters, he discovered.
“We’ve got to help them,” she said. “They can’t stay here.”
“I agree.”
She breathed what appeared to be a sigh of relief, and he wondered if she’d expected he’d give her an argument. Anyone with eyes in their head—or a sense of smell—would decide instantly the filthy house was no place for kinder.
“Where will they live?” he asked when she remained silent.
“Why not with you?”
“Me?” He recoiled as if she had jumped out at him and shouted, “Boo!” Didn’t she realize what she was asking?
No, she didn’t. She had no idea how having an instant family, especially one with a boy as rebellious as Douglas Henderson, might become a recipe for the disaster his own youth had been. Already, in the short time since he’d met the boy at the community center, Robert had had to quell his temper when Douglas sassed Beth Ann or showed a total lack of respect for anyone else.
How could he look for a job when he was responsible for three young kinder? Maybe when they were in school. Or were they attending school? He didn’t know much about Englisch education other than it continued beyond the age of fourteen, when formal studies ended for plain scholars.
“Don’t you have room for them? You said you’re living in David Riehl’s barn. It’s got to be bigger than the place where I’m staying.”
“I’ve got roommates, and it’s under construction. It’s no place for kinder.”
She nodded, unable to argue with those facts. “I don’t have much room. Not enough for three children. Could you take the oldest one?”
He noted how careful she was not to speak the boy’s name, drawing the kinder’s attention. Could he provide shelter for Douglas? It was for a single night. In spite of the warnings shouting in his head, he said, “I’ll take him tonight. Tomorrow we need to look at other solutions.”
“I agree.” She gave him a quick smile. “Thank you, Robert. I don’t know where I’d have all of them sleep in my tiny cabin.”
He hadn’t been sure what he’d say next if she hadn’t accepted those facts. He was glad she seemed logical and hadn’t pestered him to explain further. Shame swept through him. Being honest meant telling the whole truth, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know Beth Ann, so he couldn’t trust her.
He wanted to laugh. He didn’t trust anyone with the truth. Not even himself.
“I guess,” Beth Ann said, “the first thing is to gather what the children will need tonight. Tomorrow we’ll have to alert the authorities that the children were left on their own.”
“Why?” When her brows rocketed up, he added, “Sorry. We Amish are accustomed to handling our own problems.”
“These children aren’t Amish, and neither am I.”
Her statement drew him up short. She seemed so much like the plain women he knew he’d let himself forget that important fact.
Before he could speak, she went on, “I know what you’re thinking. I seem to know a lot about Amish folk. It’s because I’ve been welcomed into dozens of Amish homes in Lancaster County as their local midwife.”
“You’re a midwife? How can you get enough time away from your patients to come to Vermont?”
An emotion he couldn’t decipher flashed through her eyes. She waved aside his curious questions as if they were unimportant, but he suspected they were as crucial to her as the secret he carried so deep within his heart.
“We can talk about the past later,” she replied. “Right now, we need to focus on helping the children.”
Not wanting to leave the whole task to her, Robert said, “Let me get what the kinder need to take with them.”
“All right.” Beth Ann hesitated, and he guessed she had no idea where to look in the vile house for what the youngsters needed.
Neither did he.
When he glanced into the dining room, he realized the kinder had gotten tired of waiting to eat. They were finishing the meals brought from the community center. He wasn’t surprised Douglas had spooned gravy and chicken onto a biscuit for himself. The boy must have a bottomless pit inside him, but he’d waited to assure himself his siblings had enough to eat before he dug in himself.
“Oh, dear,” Beth Ann murmured beside him.
He glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d hoped we could get them out of here before they ate. Who knows how long it’s been since those plates were last cleaned?”
“Yummy,” announced Tommy. “You make good food, Lady Beth Ann.”
“You can call me Beth Ann,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t cook that food. The nice ladies at the community center did.”
The little boy turned to his big brother. “Can we go there tomorrow to eat?”
Douglas blushed with what Robert guessed was embarrassment, and Beth Ann’s laugh startled the boy as much as it did him.
“Yes, you’ll be going there tomorrow. At least for breakfast. I eat at the community center, and you can come with me. Hey, I’ve got an idea.” She made it sound as if the thought had just entered her mind. “Come and stay with me tonight. That way, we can go to breakfast together tomorrow. Where I’m staying isn’t very big, but it’s—”
When she faltered, Robert wondered if she’d been about to say clean. Did she think the kids would care about her appraisal of the pigpen where they lived? Ja, she did. Her heart must be even gentler than he’d guessed.
“My place has got plenty of room for Crystal and Tommy to have a sleepover with me tonight,” she hurried to say. “Douglas, you can stay with the bachelors at Mr. Riehl’s barn. We—”
Douglas jumped to his feet. “Get out and don’t come back! We don’t want your food or your plans or—or—or anything!”
When the boy continued bellowing orders and moved to shove Beth Ann, she caught him by the shoulders before he could knock her off her feet. The other kinder cried out in dismay as Douglas squirmed to escape and swung his fists at her, but she held him gently.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in little more than a whisper. She repeated the question as if singing a lullaby.
The boy calmed enough to mutter, “We don’t need your help.”
“I realize that,” she replied in the same soft voice. “But we want to help.”
“Not my problem.”
“If us helping you isn’t the problem, what is?”
Before the boy could answer, Crystal got up. She held her younger brother’s hand as they walked to Douglas.
“Mommy told us not to let anyone separate us,” the girl said with dignity far beyond her age. “We could end up in fester care.”
“Yeah,” echoed Tommy. “Fester care is the worst.”
Beth Ann’s mouth twitched, but her voice remained serious. “Have you been in it before?”
“No,” Crystal answered, “but Mommy was, and she said our aunt was better than being sucked into the system.” Puzzlement clouded her eyes. “Do you know what system she’s talking about?”
Robert understood. As a boy, one of his friends had been an Englischer living on a nearby farm. The boy had been in foster care. One day, he’d been there, and the next, gone. No explanation as the boy was ripped out of Robert’s life. He remembered the boy had spoken of siblings, none of whom he’d seen in years.
“Yes, Crystal, I do,” Beth Ann said as he struggled with his memories. “We’re talking about tonight only. Douglas can go with Robert, and—”
The kinder shook their heads.
Beth Ann sighed. “All right. You all can stay with me tonight. Someone may have to sleep standing up, but we’ll figure it out.” Without a pause, she added, “In the morning, we’ll go to the community center for breakfast. Did you know they’ve got both pancakes and waffles? So will you come with me tonight?”
Both younger children shot a pleading glance at their big brother. Robert guessed they would have followed Beth Ann to the ends of the earth to get such an enticing breakfast.
“Dougie, let’s go with Lady Beth Ann,” Crystal urged. “I want pancakes and waffles for breakfast.”
“Me, too!” piped up Tommy before he reached onto the table for the last biscuit and took a huge bite.
“Douglas?” prompted Beth Ann. “What do you say?”
“We can have both pancakes and waffles?” he asked with suspicion.
“You know the rules at the community center. Take all you want as long as you eat all you take.”
“Sounds to me,” Robert interjected, “like you can have both pancakes and waffles as well as both bacon and sausage.”
As he’d hoped, the mention of bacon and sausage sealed the deal for Douglas. The boy nodded, then halted himself as if he didn’t want to show the adults how much he wanted a big breakfast.
Or how much he needed that meal and others. Maybe he was skinny because he was going through a growth spurt. Robert would have liked to believe that, but the stove in the kitchen didn’t have a single pot on it. It was an electric stove. How long had the electricity been off in the house? Since their aenti left or before?
Beth Ann clapped her hands and said in a cheerful tone, “If you’re coming to stay with me, you’ll need clothes for tonight and tomorrow.”
“What should we bring?” asked Crystal. “Our toothbrushes?”
Beth Ann gave a small shudder. “Why don’t we stop at the desk at the motel and pick up new toothbrushes for you? They’ve got little bars of soap, too, so you can each have your own.”
“My own soap?” The girl flung her arms around Beth Ann. “Thank you, Lady Beth Ann.”
“Please call me Beth Ann,” she replied as she had before, but gave Crystal a squeeze. “You’ll need your pajamas and slippers, if you’ve got them.”
“Tommy does, but we don’t,” Douglas said as he returned to the table and chased the last of the gravy with a final bite of biscuit.
“That’s okay. The floors are nice and warm. Of course, you’ll need clothes for school tomorrow.”
Douglas choked on the biscuit and gravy.
“We don’t go to school,” Crystal said. “We don’t go anywhere. Aunt Sharon told us to stay out of sight.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand it’s okay while you’re with me,” Beth Ann replied with more serenity than Robert could have dredged out of his outrage at how the kinder’s aenti had left them on their own.
Tommy’s and Crystal’s heads moved as one so they could look at their older brother, waiting for his decision. Though none of them had said so, Robert surmised the kinder had promised their aenti they would do what Douglas told them to do. What a burden for a ten-year-old boy!
Sympathy deepened within Robert when he saw uncertainty and fear in the boy’s eyes. Uncertainty about whether he should pass authority for his small family to Beth Ann and fear, no doubt, that if he didn’t go along with her, he’d miss out on breakfast.
Again he nodded, but reluctantly.
With a cheer, his brother and sister began to head in two different directions around the table. Beth Ann halted Tommy while Robert called Crystal back. Maybe the kinder knew their way around the unlit house, but nobody else did.
Beth Ann asked where their clean clothing was kept. When both pointed to an empty laundry basket, he heard her sigh. However, her smile never wavered when she spoke to the youngsters. She worked with one at a time to get what they’d need for the next few days. They didn’t ask why she wanted to have more than a day’s supplies, and she didn’t explain she was as averse to returning to the house as he was. Whenever she saw the kinder about to balk at her requests, she began to talk about the community center kitchen and the treats made there.
He wanted to congratulate her on such a brilliant tactic to keep the kids from thinking about how they were leaving home, but spent his time trying to keep the stacks of clothing—most in need of being laundered—from tipping onto the dirty plates on the table.
When they had enough gathered to satisfy Beth Ann, she asked, “Do you have clean bags?”
Crystal opened one of the filthy kitchen cabinets and pulled out grocery bags that had been shoved into each other. “Like these?”
“Yes,” said Beth Ann.
From where he stood an arm’s-length away, he could see what looked like footprints from a mouse across the brown paper. He grabbed a broom leaning against the wall beyond the cupboard where the bags were stored. A faint scrabbling reached his ears, and his stomach turned as he realized the youngsters didn’t react to the obvious sound of vermin racing into the shadows.
As she helped Tommy with his tattered coat, he noticed Crystal’s was too small and the zipper was broken. Their mamm had left their aenti in charge, but Aenti Sharon was no more capable of taking care of the Henderson kinder than their mamm was.
Robert picked up the bags, including the one holding trash from tonight’s meal. Though dirty dishes remained on the table, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the containers they’d brought from the community center. He’d dispose of them later or return them to the kitchen if they were reusable.
“All set?” he called out.
As they walked toward the front door after making sure the candles were out, Tommy let out a wild cry. “I can’t leave. Not without Woodsy.”
“Who’s Woodsy?” Robert asked.
“My bear!” His head swiveled as he looked around. “Where is he?”
Crystal ran into the darkened dining room. He heard a warning creak from the floorboards. How stable was the house? He couldn’t miss how the walls bowed.
“Here he is,” the girl said when she came back with a stuffed toy. “You put him there while we were playing hide-and-seek, remember?”
As the little boy took the bear that had little of its fur remaining and hugged it close, Robert saw his dismay mirrored on Beth Ann’s face. The idea of the kinder playing with smelly toys in the filthy house sent shivers of horror along his spine.
He opened the door, desperate to help the kinder flee. After he’d blown out the candle in the lantern and put it outside on the porch, he sucked in great breaths of clean air. He hoped he never encountered the kinder’s mamm or aenti. He feared he wouldn’t be able to hold on to his temper and wouldn’t be sorry if he lost it.
That thought shook him to the core. It wasn’t the way of Plain People to resort to violence to solve their problems or anyone else’s, but he was furious at the women who’d abandoned three kinder.
The Mountain View Motel had been built, according to the sign by the registration desk, in 1951. It was long and low and snaked along the hillside like a headless dragon. On one side, three small cabins, only a bit larger than the units making up the motel, were clustered near a pair of snow-covered picnic tables.
Beth Ann led the way to the first one, mindful of skirting the snow piles and the freshly fallen inch of snow. None of the children had boots, or so they claimed. After seeing the state of their clothes and the house, she felt they were being honest. At least, Tommy and Crystal were. Only a fool would believe every word from Douglas’s mouth.
She edged around her ancient car. Any hint of a shine had vanished years ago. It seemed to burn more oil than gas, and she hadn’t been sure it would get her from Pennsylvania to Vermont. She couldn’t afford anything more reliable.
“Here we are,” she said with all the cheerfulness she could muster. She set the two bags she carried on the concrete step and pulled out her key. Opening the door, she reached for the light switches. Both the lamp by the door and the interior ceiling light came on. “Welcome to my little home.”
She stepped inside, moving two steps until she bumped into the arm of the sofa. The small space held a double bed in an alcove with a bedside table and a lamp. In the living area was the foldout sofa and a table with two chairs. Two taller chairs were shoved beneath the tiny kitchen’s counter. A cramped bathroom was behind the other door.
“You live here?”
Shocked Douglas was looking down his nose at her neat and cozy home, she forced a smile. “It’s kind of cute.”
“If you think so...” His tone seemed too world-weary for his few years.
Or maybe simply weary. She had no idea how long he’d been standing on the village green asking passersby for money.
To Robert, she said, “Thanks for helping with the bags.”
“Glad to help.” He was appraising the small space with an expression very similar to Douglas’s. “Are you going to be okay?”
“We’ll be fine.” She wished Douglas would reconsider going with Robert to stay in the barn’s apartment, but didn’t say anything. Upsetting the children again would be silly.
Setting the bag he carried on the bed, Robert beat a hasty retreat after telling her he’d return in the morning. She frowned at the door he closed behind him. Did he dislike all children or just these children? He’d seemed uncomfortable from the moment she had come over the table with Douglas. She didn’t have time to ponder those questions, because the children began firing their own in her direction. Where would they sleep? Did she have a TV? How about a bathroom? Was there anything to eat? The last question came, of course, from Douglas.
Turning her attention to the situation at hand, Beth Ann soon had the youngsters sitting with bowls of ice cream. She unpacked the bags and found places for their clothes—most in worse condition than what they were wearing—with the easy efficiency she’d learned from her time in corralling and entertaining children while their mothers were in labor. She supervised baths for the younger two and a shower for Douglas and pulled out the new toothbrushes they’d gotten at the registration desk.
She paused as Crystal and Tommy jumped onto the bed, each grabbing a pillow. She hadn’t decided where everyone would sleep. A quick call to the front desk informed her that, yes, there was a cot she could use, but it couldn’t be delivered that night. Trying to imagine where she could squeeze it into the tiny space, she looked at the bed where Douglas sat and chatted with his siblings.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to share the bed tonight,” she said.
“We don’t mind,” Crystal replied. “We’ve been sleeping together lately.”
Beth Ann nodded, understanding what the girl didn’t say. Without a working furnace, the trio must have cuddled together for warmth. Again she thanked God He’d made sure her path intersected with Douglas’s.
“Sorry you got stuck with us.” Douglas didn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m not stuck with you.” She gave the children a warm smile as she motioned for them to climb beneath the covers. “I like having company.”
Douglas claimed the side closest to the door. Was he trying to protect his siblings or give himself the chance to be first out of the cabin?
She couldn’t guess, and she wasn’t going to try. Handing Tommy his stinky teddy bear, she asked, “Shall we say our bedtime prayers together?”
They looked at her as if she’d started speaking an alien language.
“You don’t thank God each night for the blessings He brought you today?” She wished she hadn’t asked the question when Douglas’s eyes narrowed with abrupt anger. The poor child! He hadn’t had much to be grateful for, but she hoped that would change.
“Like ice cream?” Tommy asked.
“A bar of soap for myself?” added Crystal.
Happy the younger two had eased the tension, Beth Ann smiled. “Whatever you are grateful for is the right thing to thank God for.” She bent her head.
She heard stifled giggles when she prayed aloud about how much she appreciated God letting her meet the Henderson children. She asked if they had anything to add. The younger two added their gratitude for soap and ice cream, but Douglas only grumbled.
“Don’t be like that, Dougie. Lady Bee is grateful for us,” said Crystal, giving her a new nickname. “The least you can do is be grateful for her.”
“I’m grateful for her,” said Douglas—or Dougie, as she’d decided she’d call him, too. “Good ole Robert ‘don’t call me Bob’ doesn’t like us.”
“How can you say that?” Beth Ann asked. “Robert doesn’t know you, and you don’t know him.”
“He acts like we’ve got cooties,” Tommy piped up, not willing to go to sleep if his older brother and sister weren’t.
She wanted to retort that Robert didn’t act that way, but he’d been quick to find reasons why the Hendersons shouldn’t stay in his apartment.
Amish men left raising children to their wives and the other women in the family. Yet she hadn’t ever met one who didn’t like children. Most plain men spent time teaching the next generation about the Bible and enjoyed having youngsters tag around behind them so they could learn the skills necessary to be a good member of the community.
She couldn’t shake the feeling—which the kids had picked up on, too—that there was more to Robert’s discomfort around them.
Tucking the trio in and turning off the lamp by the bed as well as the overhead light, she realized she was going to have to figure out how to have enough light to read in the evening.
She watched as the children surrendered to sleep. She smiled when Crystal shifted so her head was toward the foot of the bed. Dougie gripped his pillow as if he feared it’d fall off. Between them, Tommy clung to the ragged bear.
She could smell the odors the toy’s stuffing had picked up from the dirty house. She wondered if the little boy would agree to put his beloved Woodsy in the washing machine.
Or she could put the toy in the bathtub and let Tommy help get his bear clean. After, they’d take the stuffed toy to the dryer in the motel. Tommy could watch his bear tumble inside, something she might convince the little boy was fun for a toy. She’d need to make sure he didn’t think it was too much fun and try taking such a ride himself.
She sighed as she pulled out the mattress on the sofa bed, knowing she might as well try to sleep rather than sit in the darkness. She went into the bathroom to change. She took off her brace and set it to one side along with her clothing. She brushed and braided her hair as she did each night. Going into the main room, she discovered she didn’t have a blanket, so she pulled the afghan off the couch and wrapped it around herself.
Sleep was elusive, because she kept reliving the events of the so-very-eventful day. Staring at the ceiling that lit up whenever a car or truck passed by on the road, she realized the enormity of the task she’d taken on. What did she know about taking care of someone else’s children?
The children were blessed with having one another. Dougie had taken on too much responsibility in the care of his siblings, but she guessed he’d done it because he didn’t want them separated. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, praying everything he’d done to help his brother and sister wouldn’t be in vain.