Henry almost made it out of the Yoders’ yard. He could’ve pretended not to hear Noah calling his name, but that would’ve been dishonest. And right after the Sunday service. He tugged on the reins and halted the buggy.
“I’m glad I caught you. We need to talk.” Noah’s earnest delivery of those two sentences didn’t bode well. Nor did his somber expression. “We could grab a seat at a picnic table. I didn’t see you eat.”
“My stomach is complaining this morning.” This was the truth. So much so Henry had been afraid he might have to miss church. Only his determination to set an example for Tommy had kept him from settling back in bed. “I really need to check on Tommy.”
No point in getting into the details of the choice he’d given Tommy or the smirk he’d received in return right before Tommy set out for home, kicking up gravel with every step of his new church shoes.
Noah’s smile tightened. “Exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” To Henry’s surprise, Noah climbed into the buggy and settled on the seat next to him. He turned up the collar on his coat and rubbed his hands together. “They say winter is coming early. This north wind is proof enough. I’ll go with you to talk to Tommy. You can drop me at the house afterward.”
A spattering of raindrops spit on Henry’s face. A few minutes with Tommy and Noah would know the truth of the child’s spiritual malaise. “It’s not necessary.”
“Given the stunt he pulled during the service this morning, I must disagree. Especially when you consider what I’ve been hearing.”
Here we go. Irritation was wrong. Henry silently counted to ten. Accountability from the community was a staple of their faith. He snapped the reins, and the buggy jolted forward. “What did Leesa tell you?”
“What makes you think Leesa said anything?” Noah paused for a beat. “What has the bu done at schul?”
Besides birdcalling and destroying his own desk? Those were the least of Henry’s concerns. “He’s rambunctious, that’s all. A high-spirited boy.”
“Then why do you walk around looking as if the sky has fallen on your head?”
Henry urged his horse into a canter. The rain came down harder. He scanned both sides of the dirt road that led to his cabin but saw no sign of Tommy. Dealing with the boy’s antics challenged Henry, but coping with his spiritual mess was quite another larger swarm of gnats. “His presence was unexpected.”
“I reckon that’s what they call an understatement.”
“He’s been scarred by loss. He’s been uprooted. He’s lashing out.”
“A steady, firm hand will rein him in.”
It would help, but discipline would not fill the hole in Tommy’s heart. Henry picked his words with care. “Or a loving heart.”
“Of course discipline must be meted out with love and caring.” A gust of wind blew rain into the buggy. The sweet smell of Douglas firs came with it. Chuckling, Noah wiped his face with his wool coat sleeve. “But he doesn’t need a friend. He needs a parent. He needs to be reined in before he’s completely out of hand.”
“With time, he’ll settle down.”
“Have you considered placing him with one of our Kootenai families? The Planks, the Yoders, or the Shrocks? They have more experience with raising kinner.”
The idea hadn’t occurred to Henry. To have this burden disappear from his shoulders had appeal. To have his quiet, orderly home back. No more waterlogged tussles at bath time. No more visits from a certain teacher.
Nee. What reason would he then have to visit the Yoders for supper?
He brushed the selfish thought aside. Leesa only wanted to help her wayward scholar. She had no interest in the scholar’s substitute father. For the first time since Vivian’s death, his heart thrummed in a cranky, painful effort to disagree with his head concerning a woman’s interest.
There was no interest. Would he like there to be interest?
This was ridiculous. Aware of Noah’s piercing gaze, Henry studied the potholes filling with rain in front of the buggy. He raised his face to the glowering gray clouds. Sweet Vivian’s shadowy figure wavered in the distance. She would’ve been a good mother. She would’ve known what to do.
So do you, mann. She raised her hand, waved, and disappeared into the foggy, windswept mountains.
Godspeed, my sweet, sweet fraa.
Raindrops blurred his vision. Cold seeped through his damp shirt. Was Tommy out here soaked to the bone, lost and wandering toward the mountains?
Tommy had been uprooted once already. He needed to be able to trust someone. He needed to trust Henry. He kept testing boundaries in order to find out if Henry would cast him aside at the slightest inconvenience.
“Tommy’s father left him to me. He’s my charge.”
“He might be better off with a family that has a daed and a mudder. Josiah probably thought you would be married by now.”
The words were sharper than a finely honed ax. Noah couldn’t know how they pierced Henry’s heart. “Josiah raised Tommy without a fraa until he died. He knew what he was doing. He chose me. I’m honoring his wish.”
“Even if it’s not what’s best for the child?”
“I choose to believe it is for the best.”
Noah’s grunt was neither assent nor dissent.
They rode in silence until Henry made the last turn and guided the buggy up the muddy, puddle-filled road to his cabin. He pulled into the yard and stopped.
“If he’s disruptive during the service again, we’ll have to meet with the both of you to discuss punishment.”
“Understood.”
“He’s far too old to act like this. Spare the rod and spoil the child.”
“I know.” Should he tell Noah about the greater concern? Not yet. Henry would pray. He would work with Leesa. Together they would find a way to reach this hurting child. “I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”
He wasn’t. Dodger whined to be let out. No other sound echoed in the tiny two-bedroom abode that still smelled of the bacon and eggs he’d made for breakfast. Probably because the plates of uneaten food still sat on the table. A string of muddy tracks led to Tommy’s bedroom. Henry studied the room. The bed was neatly made. A first. The hooks on the wall were empty. Tommy’s clothes were gone. His backpack was gone.
Tommy was gone.
Henry left the door ajar for Dodger and retrieved his rain slicker and a large umbrella. Together they left the cabin and he pulled the door shut. Where are you, Tommy?
Dodger hopped in the back of the buggy. Henry handed the umbrella to Noah. “He’s gone.”
“He ran away?”
“It appears so.”
His expression perplexed, Noah leaned back. “Maybe you should tell me what happened after the stunt he pulled this morning.”
Henry obliged on the fifteen-minute drive to Noah’s house. The bishop said little, other than promising to spread the word about Henry’s missing charge. They would go out in twos and threes, covering the small community from one end to the other. If necessary, they would form a search party to comb the nearby forest.
“Surely he won’t try to walk out of here.”
Walk the eighteen miles to Rexford, including the longest-span bridge in the state? “Surely not.”
“I plan to talk to the Planks about taking him.” Noah’s stern tone left no room for argument. “They handled difficulties with their Jonathan well.”
“It’ll only make it harder for Tommy.” Henry argued anyway. “He knows me. He needs stability.”
“He needs parents who know better than to give him an option to skip church when that’s exactly what he wanted.” Noah didn’t bother to soften his criticism. “A bad apple can’t be allowed to spoil the whole barrel. Whether at schul or at church.”
“He’s not a bad apple.”
“He will be if he’s not reined in—now. And sharply.”
The bishop’s logic was infallible. “Let’s find him first.”
“I’ll pray.”
“Me too.”