5
The next day, when Ruby visited Lovinia, the change in her appearance drove home how quickly her friend would be leaving them. The sick woman seemed to have sunk into the bedding, she had lost so much flesh so quickly. Ruby slipped into the chair Gideon vacated as he went to the kitchen to have breakfast with the children and took Lovinia’s thin, pale hand in her own.
Her friend’s eyes fluttered open. “Ruby? What day is it?”
“It’s Thursday.”
“How are the . . .” Lovinia stopped talking to pull in a breath.
“The children?” Ruby finished her question. “They are fine, but they miss you. I’ve been trying to keep them busy.”
“I want to see them.” Lovinia struggled to sit up and Ruby tucked another pillow behind her back. “I need to . . .” She took another breath. “. . . say goodbye.”
“I’ll bring them upstairs after they have finished their breakfast.”
Ruby tucked in the edges of the blanket, making sure Lovinia wouldn’t get chilled, then opened the window to the fresh June air. The day promised to be hot. She returned to her seat and offered Lovinia a drink of water, spooning the liquid into her mouth. When she had finished drinking, Lovinia closed her eyes.
“You will remember your promise?” she asked, her eyes still closed.
“Ja, for sure I will remember.”
“When I’m gone, Gideon will try to talk you out of it.”
Ruby smiled and squeezed Lovinia’s hand. “Don’t worry about that now. We will make sure the children are taken care of.”
Lovinia was quiet then, and Ruby thought she had gone to sleep. She refused to think about marrying Gideon right now. The most important thing was that Lovinia’s time was short. Like Gideon, she only wanted Lovinia’s last days and hours to be peaceful.
“He will think he’s betraying me by marrying you.”
“That’s just what he said.”
Gideon’s footsteps sounded in the doorway. Ruby hadn’t heard him climbing the stairs, but his presence brought strength into the room.
“What did I say?”
Lovinia opened her eyes and smiled at Ruby, sharing the joke between them.
Ruby smiled back and kissed her friend’s forehead. “I’ll bring the children up to see you as soon as they’re done eating.”
She left Gideon and Lovinia talking together and went downstairs. Daniel still sat in his chair, eating a crust of bread, while Ezra finished a piece of toast. Mamm and the girls were washing the dishes.
“What are we going to do today?” Roseanna asked when she saw Ruby. “Are we going to work in your garden again?”
“First, we’re going to visit your mother.”
Roseanna frowned, but Sophia grinned.
“Can she play a game with us?” Sophia ran to take Ruby’s hand. “Is she better now?”
Ruby swallowed, thinking of the pale woman in the bed upstairs, her flesh wasting away as death drew near. “She isn’t better. She is still very sick, but she misses you and wants to see you.”
Mamm took her hands from the dishwater and wiped them on a towel. “You had better go right away, then, before she falls asleep again.”
Mamm wiped Ezra’s hands while Ruby cleaned up Daniel with a wet rag. Mamm drew close to Ruby. “Don’t let them stay too long. Lovinia gets tired very easily.”
Ruby nodded as she lifted Daniel into her arms. She took Ezra’s hand and led the way to Lovinia’s room upstairs.
When they reached the doorway, Ezra pulled away from Ruby and ran to the bed, climbing on it before Gideon could stop him. Lovinia, smiling, waved his help away as she put one arm around her son, holding him close. Roseanna and Sophia stood next to the bed and Lovinia let her free hand touch each one’s face in turn.
“I’ve missed you—” Lovinia’s words were cut short as she began coughing.
Gideon thrust Ezra toward Ruby, then helped Lovinia turn on her side and gave her a clean cloth to hold. Gideon’s actions pushed Roseanna and Sophia to the side, and they came to the door where Ruby still stood. Silently, they all waited for Lovinia’s coughing spell to end. When Ruby spied blood on the cloth and the coughing continued, she pulled the children away, urging them down the stairs again.
Mamm looked up. “You weren’t up there very long.”
“Lovinia is coughing, and Gideon needs your help.”
Mamm didn’t answer but ran up the steps, wiping her hands on her apron.
Ruby looked at the children who stood around her, quiet and subdued. A tear traced a path down Sophia’s cheek.
“I want Mamm,” she said, looking back up the stairs.
Lovinia’s coughing spell had ended, but Ruby couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or not.
Roseanna’s frown was stony. “She doesn’t want to talk to us. She’s too sick.” She pulled away from Ruby. “Let’s go outside. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Ruby grabbed Roseanna’s hand. “You can go out and play, but remember that your mamm loves you. She would rather be with you than be sick.”
The girl shook her head. “If Mamm loved us, she would get well. She would come downstairs. She doesn’t love us anymore. Nobody does.”
Roseanna turned and ran out the door while Sophia and Ezra stared after her.
Ruby sat down on a kitchen chair with Daniel on her lap. She pulled the other two children close.
“Roseanna is wrong. Your mother loves you very much, but she can’t make herself get well.” She looked into Sophia’s face. “Do you believe me?”
Sophia nodded. “But I want Mamm.”
“I know you do, and she wants to see you too. I’ll talk to your father and we’ll decide if we can try again.”
Ezra leaned against Ruby’s lap as Daniel pounded on his head with his fist. Ruby smiled. At least two of the children seemed to be happy.
“Why don’t you and Ezra go outside to play. See if you can find Roseanna and ask her to play too.”
Sophia nodded and took Ezra’s hand, pulling him toward the door. Ruby stood at the kitchen window, watching them until they coaxed Roseanna out of the playhouse and started another game of family time, a game the girls had made up and played endlessly. Roseanna placed some leaves on the big stump they used for a table, and Sophia pretended to ladle something into the “dishes.” They would be content playing that game until dinnertime.
Then she glanced up the stairway. All was quiet, but Mamm hadn’t come back down. Ruby climbed the steps slowly, not certain what she would find.
Mamm looked up as she came to the doorway. “It’s all right. Lovinia is resting, but all the children coming at once might have been too taxing.”
Ruby stepped closer to the bed, next to Gideon’s chair. Lovinia seemed to be sleeping, but she held Gideon’s hand in a tight grip.
Gideon glanced at Ruby. “She wanted to spend time with the children, but she just isn’t strong enough.”
“We don’t dare to try again,” Mamm said. She smoothed Lovinia’s hair back from her face. “It must have upset the children to see her like this.”
“Roseanna is affected the most,” Ruby said, taking a seat on the end of the bed with Daniel on her lap. “The others only want to see their mother.”
“Let them come.” Lovinia’s voice was raspy and weak, but she opened her eyes to look at all three of them. “Don’t keep them from me.”
“We can’t risk it.” Mamm leaned forward. “Lovinia, think how terrible it would be if you passed on while they were here.”
A tear trickled down Lovinia’s cheek. The sight of that one lone tear made Ruby long to do something. Anything to fulfill Lovinia’s longing to see her children.
“What if they visited one at a time?” She looked at Mamm. “We could start with Roseanna and limit the time so that Lovinia doesn’t get too tired.”
Mamm nodded. “What do you think, Gideon?”
He stared at Lovinia, their eyes meeting in silent communication. Ruby looked away from the intimate moment.
“I think we should try it. We’ll give Lovinia a chance to rest, then bring Roseanna up to see her the next time she’s awake.”
Ruby stood, balancing Daniel on her hip. “I’ll tell the children, so they know what to expect.”
She found Sophia and Ezra still involved in their game by the playhouse, but Roseanna was hanging over the pasture fence, watching the horses graze. With Gideon’s team available, Daed used one team in the forenoon and the other in the afternoon, keeping both teams in good condition by dividing the work between them. Gideon’s team grazed in the lush pasture this morning, paying no attention to the girl who was calling them.
“They don’t come when you call?” Ruby asked as she joined Roseanna.
Roseanna didn’t look at Ruby. “They don’t like me. Our other team was better. Brownie and Socks were their names, and Daed let us ride on their backs sometimes.”
“The soldiers took them and left these two in their place. Daed says that they are afraid of children, so we stay away from them.”
“I know how to help them learn to like you.”
Ruby went into the barn and took a few carrots from the bucket Daed kept near the stalls. Wiping the dirt off one, she let Daniel chew on it as she took the others to Roseanna.
“Try this.” Ruby held a carrot up. They paid no attention.
“You have to call them,” Roseanna said, impatient.
“What are their names?”
“Samson and Delilah.”
Ruby glanced at the girl, but she wasn’t teasing. “Like in the Bible?”
Roseanna nodded.
Ruby held the carrot up again. “Samson! Delilah!”
Samson kept grazing, but Delilah lifted her head.
Encouraged, Roseanna joined in. “Delilah! I have a carrot for you!”
The big horse took a step closer, her nose raised. Then she started walking toward the fence.
Roseanna gasped. “She’s coming. What do I do?”
Ruby snapped off the end of a carrot and gave it to the girl. “Hold this out for her, on your palm, with your fingers flat.”
When Delilah reached them, she lipped the carrot out of Roseanna’s hand and crunched it, watching the girl with one eye.
“She likes it,” Roseanna said. “Can I give her another one?”
Ruby gave her the rest of the carrot and Delilah finished it. Then the big horse put her nose over the fence and nudged Roseanna’s hair, taking a deep breath.
Roseanna fed her the rest of the carrots, then Delilah went back to grazing. But she stayed close to the fence rather than wandering away.
“I think she likes you.” Ruby shifted Daniel to her other hip.
“Can I feed her more carrots?”
“Another time. She needs to eat more grass than carrots.”
Roseanna wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t want to eat grass.”
“Horses like it.” Ruby grinned at the expression on Roseanna’s face. “Your daed wanted me to tell you that you’ll be able to see your mother later today, after she sleeps for a little while.”
Staring at the horse, Roseanna rested her chin on the fence rail. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
The memory of Lovinia’s single tear gave strength to Ruby’s words. “She wants to spend as much time with you as she can. She misses you very much.”
“Then why doesn’t she get better? Why did we have to come here? Why doesn’t Daed make things better?”
Delilah cropped the grass, took a step forward, then grabbed another bite of the green blades. Mamm would know how to answer Roseanna’s questions.
“We don’t always get what we want.” She glanced at Roseanna, who still watched the horses, her back straight and stiff. “Your mamm and daed left your home because they thought it was the best thing for your family. Your mother doesn’t want to be sick, and she doesn’t want to leave you.”
Roseanna was silent.
“But you can help give her the one thing she wants desperately, and that’s to spend a few minutes with you. Just the two of you together. Can you give her that?”
When the girl nodded, Ruby glanced up at the bedroom window. Gideon stood at the open window, watching them. When she waved, he lifted his hand, signaling that all was well.
As he disappeared back into the room, Ruby found that she was smiling. Because of Gideon? He was a good man, and she could tell why Lovinia loved him so dearly. But as the thought of her promise to her friend rose to the surface again, she pushed it down. She wouldn’t think about that now. There would be plenty of time to face that afterward.
On Saturday morning, Lovinia didn’t wake up.
Gideon had spent the night dozing in the chair next to her bed, ready to help her whenever she stirred. Then sometime, in the darkest hours of the night, she had whispered his name.
“Gideon?”
He took her hand, the light from the low lantern giving her face a golden glow.
“I’m right here. What do you need?”
“Could you lie next to me? You haven’t held me in such a long time.”
Gideon considered the narrow bed. “Are you sure I won’t crowd you?”
“I need to feel you close to me.”
He maneuvered onto the bed and settled in close, his arm under her and her head pillowed on his shoulder. She was so thin. So frail.
Lovinia sighed and relaxed. “I love you, Gideon.” And then she was asleep.
He had held her, feeling her body grow warm against his, feeling her breath against his cheek, and then fallen into a deeper sleep than he had enjoyed for a week.
Gideon woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window. He tightened his arm around his wife, but the chill of her body and her stillness told him she was gone. She had fled in the night.
“Ach, Lovinia . . .”
He stayed still, reluctant to let her go. Finally, he rose, arranging her body in a natural pose, and sat on his chair again. Burying his face in his hands, he waited for the tears to come.
Mein Herr . . .
She looked peaceful. Happy. Content. No longer struggling for breath. No longer in pain. No longer so weak that she could barely raise her hand to cup his cheek.
He couldn’t be sad for her . . . but . . .
Mein Herr. I can’t do this . . .
A great weight settled on his shoulders, filling his chest, pushing him down. He folded his arms on the edge of the bed and laid his head on them, just as he had slept for so many nights during the past week.
His wife was gone.
The early morning sounds of the family rising drifted up the stairs. Soon Lydia would come to wake the children. Soon she would have breakfast prepared. Soon . . . too soon . . . Ruby would knock lightly on the door . . . ready to stay with Lovinia while he ate his breakfast . . .
Why would he ever eat again?
How could he tell their children?
Mein Herr, strengthen me . . .
A light knock on the door roused him. Had he slept?
Ruby opened the door. “It’s time for your breakfast. Mamm has it all ready—”
He didn’t have to turn. He didn’t have to say anything. As soon as she saw the still form on the bed, she knew.
She knelt next to him, one hand resting on Lovinia’s arm.
“I’m so sorry, Gideon. So sorry.” Tears trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away. “We will miss her so much.”
He could only nod in agreement. He couldn’t seem to speak.
“Do you want to tell the children?”
“I can’t.” The words blurted out. “I can’t face them now.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands shaking. “I can’t face anyone right now.”
Ruby put an arm around his shoulders and he found himself in her arms, finally crying. The depths of his sadness clawed at him, chewing him up inside. He had never felt so alone. Sob followed sob, wrenching him away from Ruby’s comfort, the shame at showing his vulnerability at war with the longing to surrender to the peace of another person’s presence.
Finally, Ruby handed him one of Lovinia’s soft towels, and he sat up, wiping his face and beard. He looked at her, her tear-filled eyes meeting his.
“I’m sorry.” He blew his nose. “I shouldn’t have wept like that in front of you.”
“There is no need to be sorry.” She blinked as another tear slid down her cheek. “It’s a sad day for all of us, but especially for you.”
Gideon took her hand. “Lovinia said I would need you. You have been a great comfort for me already today.”
Her face was red and splotchy. She had been crying too.
“We both love her, so we have something in common, like we’ve said before.” Ruby’s smile trembled. “You can come to me any time. And if I think you’ve cried enough tears, I’ll let you know.”
Gideon smiled back, clasping her hand in his. He took in a shuddering breath, looking in Lovinia’s face for what he felt was the last time. “She told me that she felt like she was standing at the edge of a river.”
“And on the other side was a meadow of soft grass and shade trees. A cool and pleasant place.” Ruby squeezed his hand. “She told me about it too. It makes me glad to think of her there in that meadow.”
“In the presence of our Lord. Light and warmth all around.” Gideon sighed again. Mein Herr, what do I do now?
“It is time to tell the others. I’ll tell the children, but would you tell your folks?”
“Ja, for sure.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll tell the family and anyone else who needs to know.”
As Ruby opened the door, Gideon glanced at Lovinia’s body once more. She was no longer there. She had left him to grieve alone.
Lovinia’s passing left a wound in Ruby’s heart that nothing else seemed to fill. The funeral had been held on Tuesday, the third day after her death, and somehow, they had gotten through it. Ruby hadn’t seen Gideon weep since the morning his wife died. At the funeral service he had looked resigned, standing in a quiet group with the children. Even Ezra leaned against his father, his thumb in his mouth, not understanding this great change in their lives.
During that first week, Ruby had spent her days with the children, either at Mamm’s house or at Elizabeth’s, while Gideon worked with Daed in the fields. The children seemed to adapt to their new routine, but whenever Gideon came in for dinner or at the end of the day, he didn’t meet Ruby’s gaze. He kept his red-rimmed eyes down, and she only saw his sunburned cheeks above his beard.
On Saturday, a week to the day after they lost Lovinia, she and Elizabeth took the children berry picking in the clearing where the old salt lick attracted deer and all kinds of wildlife. The girls skipped down the dusty road ahead of Ruby and her sister with Ezra running behind them, empty pails swinging in their hands. Ruby and Elizabeth carried the rest of the pails. They had left Daniel in Mamm’s eager care.
“It’s going to be a hot day, ain’t?” Elizabeth asked, borrowing the Englisch phrase from Mrs. Lawrence, the postmistress in Farmerstown.
“It’s a scorcher,” Ruby answered, using Mr. Lawrence’s answer to his wife. They had heard the couple exchange the same phrases on every summer visit to the store and post office as long as they could remember.
“At least it’s cool this morning.” Elizabeth switched back to Deitsch. “And perfect for picking berries.”
“We should take the children to play in the creek this afternoon,” Ruby said. “That will be fun in the afternoon heat.”
“You can do that while I help Mamm lay the berries out to dry.”
They crossed the creek on the bridge their brother Jonas had made last year, walked past the foundation of the house he had been building for Katie before he joined the army, and took the trail leading to the clearing. Ruby walked behind the children and her sister. She hated this spot in the woods, even though it was a place of beauty all through the year. It reminded her too much of Ned Hamlin and the stolen moments she had spent here with him so many summers ago.
“I haven’t come here to pick berries for years,” Elizabeth said. She hurried along the path, following the children.
“Remember when Miriam and Rachel used to bring us? We were probably the same ages as Roseanna and Sophia.”
“I remember how frustrated they got with us when we kept eating berries instead of dropping them in our pails.” Elizabeth stopped and faced Ruby, her voice low. “Do you remember the time we saw the bear? You don’t think we’ll see one today, do you?”
“Daed says there haven’t been bears in these woods for years. There are too many farmers around.” She looked around the clearing as her sister turned and kept walking. “It would be nice to see a deer, but I’m afraid we’re too noisy. We’ll chase all the animals away.”
When they emerged from the cover of the trees into the sunny clearing, Elizabeth and the children turned to the right, toward the largest stand of black raspberry bushes. It had grown and spread over the past few years until it covered nearly a third of the acre-sized clearing. Ruby turned to the left, toward a much smaller clump of brambles, as far away from old memories as she could get.
“Ruby!” Elizabeth called to her from the prickly bushes. “Come over here with us. Ezra needs help picking, and so does Sophia.”
Dropping a handful of berries into her pail, Ruby walked toward the others. She held her hand out toward the little boy. “Ezra, come and pick with me, over here.”
“I want to stay by Sophia.” Ezra’s voice was muffled, his mouth full of berries.
“Bring her with you.”
Sophia plucked a thorny raspberry cane from her skirt. “I want to stay by Roseanna.”
Elizabeth shaded her eyes as she looked at Ruby. “Why don’t you just join us? There are a lot of berries here.”
Ruby took a step closer to the giant bramble patch. She eyed the raspberry canes. Too well she knew of the bare center in the berry patch, a fine hiding place. She shuddered, pushing the memories back.
Elizabeth needed her to help with the children. She closed her eyes. The memories were old, from years ago. Ned was gone and wasn’t going to return. He had died last year while in Mississippi with the Confederate army, with Elizabeth’s husband Reuben at his side.
Reuben. If it wasn’t for her, Elizabeth would never have made the mistake of marrying him.
“Ruby? Can you hold my pail?”
Little Sophia was standing by her, one hand balancing her pail and the other full of crushed black raspberries. The thoughts of the past flew out of her mind as she bent to hold Sophia’s pail and help her scrape the raspberry mess off her palm.
“I don’t like the juice,” Sophia said, her voice trembling a little. “I don’t want my hands to be purple.”
“Don’t worry. The stain will wear off in a few days.” She went around the brambles to a fresh bunch of canes, Sophia following. “I’ll hold your pail and mine, and we’ll both pick the berries.”
Roseanna moved closer to them, picking almost as quickly as Elizabeth.
“Do you like picking berries, Roseanna?” Ruby asked.
The girl looked at her, then held up her arm. “The prickers scratch, but I like to eat the berries.”
Elizabeth looked up from the lower canes where she was helping Ezra find berries for his pail. “Just like everything else, we learn to take a bit of bad with the good.”
“I don’t like the prickers,” Sophia said, gingerly grasping a berry and dropping it in her pail. “Why do berries have them?”
Ruby had never considered the question. “Maybe it’s to protect the berries from the animals who would eat all of them.”
“We’re going to eat all of them,” Roseanna said. “The prickers won’t stop us.”
“We’ll only pick until our pails are full. There will still be a lot of berries left.”
Sophia dropped another berry in her pail. “Does God like it when we eat the berries?”
“Remember what Mamm said?” Roseanna stopped picking. “She said that God made them specially for us to enjoy. She said he made the whole world for us.” She turned to Ruby, a frown on her face. “Is that right? Was Mamm right?”
“Your mamm was right.” Ruby smiled. She could almost hear her friend’s voice imparting those words of wisdom to her daughters. “Did you pick berries with her when you lived in Maryland?”
The frown on Roseanna’s face deepened as she nodded. “We’ll never do it again, though. We’ll never get to do anything with Mamm again.”
“You have your memories with her.”
Roseanna didn’t look at her but went back to her picking. “I’d rather have her. I wish she hadn’t died.”
Putting an arm around the girl’s narrow shoulders, Ruby tried to give her a reassuring hug, but Roseanna pulled away. Ruby let her go, wondering what Mamm would have done.
Elizabeth had been watching their conversation and came closer to Ruby. “Don’t worry. She’ll get over her mother’s passing in time. You’re doing your best.” She kept her voice low so the children wouldn’t hear her.
Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take their mother’s place. Lovinia chose the wrong person.”
“Why? I think you’re just the person those children need right now.”
“They need someone who can help them grieve. Someone who can be a good influence as they grow. I’m not that person.”
“You might not think so, but I do, and so does Mamm. But most important, Lovinia and Gideon thought you were the right person. Rely on the Lord and he will help you.”
“But I’ve made so many mistakes in my life.” Ruby bit her lip. She had never talked to Elizabeth about how she had misled her when they were both younger. Why would anyone think she wouldn’t do the same for these children?
Elizabeth looked at her, her gaze steady. “Past mistakes are something we live with, but that doesn’t mean we have to continue to make the same decisions over again. We learn from our mistakes and move on.” She was silent for a moment, watching the children. “If I could live my life over, I wouldn’t marry Reuben. Marrying against Mamm and Daed’s wishes was bad enough, but marrying a non-Amish man has been harder as the years have gone by. I would like to be baptized and join the church, but Reuben won’t hear of it.” She laid a hand on Ruby’s arm. “If I had the opportunity to do it again, I wouldn’t make the same decision. But I made my decision and I have to live with it.”
Ruby’s thoughts went to Reuben. Elizabeth hadn’t heard from him in almost a year, ever since he left to join the Confederate army. “What if he never comes home?”
“I’ve thought of that. Worse than that, sometimes I wish it was true, and then I have to ask for the Good Lord’s forgiveness for even thinking such a thing.”
“Would you marry again?”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed and her voice was steady. “If I ever marry again, I will marry an Amish man. I wouldn’t consider anyone who wasn’t Amish.”
At a call from Sophia, Ruby went back to helping her pick the berries, but her thoughts were still with Elizabeth. Even though Ruby was older by two years, it seemed that Elizabeth was much wiser than she was. Even after knowing she had made a mistake when she married Reuben, Elizabeth still believed that God was with her. Still believed that God would accept her as a member of the church.
Ruby turned a berry over in her fingers. One little round part was hard and dark, a single flaw in an otherwise perfect fruit. The berry blurred, and Ruby dropped it into the pail, blinking her eyes against the threatening tears as she reached for the next one. Her sin was hidden. No one but Elizabeth knew about Ned, and she only knew part of what had happened. Even when Ruby had joined the church, she had never confessed her sin.
She dropped more berries into the pail, covering the flawed one.
But nothing would cover the memory of the mistake . . . the lie she lived with.