She’d told Samuel she wouldn’t leave while Myra needed her. The promise stuck in her heart.
She headed for the door to call everyone for supper, only to find them already coming in from the backyard, Myra holding Sarah’s hand, while Samuel carried a wiggling Gracie.
“Supper is on.”
“Ja, we smelled it.” Samuel’s smile seemed a bit strained.
Anna pulled the highchair close to the table. The bustle of getting everyone settled created a cover for her question to Samuel. “How did it go?” she murmured.
“Not gut.” Concern darkened his eyes.
There wasn’t time for more, but she thought she could guess the rest. Joseph was refusing to face the truth.
She slid into her seat, clasping her hands for the silent prayer that began the meal.
Dear Father, help us. Are we doing the right thing? Help Myra.
She sent a covert glance at Gracie, to find her sitting quietly, small hands linked as she concentrated on mimicking the others. Anna’s heart seemed to turn over. Gracie was at home here. How could she think of taking her away?
Joseph nodded to Samuel, who lifted the heavy bowl of potpie and started it around the table. What had happened between the two of them, then? Samuel had said it was not gut.
Anna tried to concentrate on cutting up the puffy square of potpie dough for Gracie, who was already making a fine mess with her applesauce.
“Gracie, not with your fingers.” She put a spoon into her daughter’s hand. “Use the spoon.”
“Sarah would still rather use her fingers than a spoon,” Myra said. “I must work on that before the boppli comes.”
Anna nodded. If Myra was talking naturally about the baby, that was what they wanted, wasn’t it?
Myra ran her hand across her belly, lips curving. “I will feel him kicking soon, ja? I remember from Sarah. That is such a joy, to feel that. Remember the first time you felt that, Joseph? Remember?”
Anna’s heart sank. Myra was talking too fast, her eyes too bright, her cheeks flushed like someone with a fever.
“I’m sure you will,” she said, hoping to soothe her.
Joseph clasped Myra’s hand in his. “I remember. We are all right about this boppli.” He shot a glance at Samuel. “Myra and me, we accept God’s will for this child. We will love and care for it, no matter what.”
“He.” Myra’s voice emphasized the word, and she snatched her hand away. “Our baby is a little boy, I know it. He is our perfect little son.”
“I know you would like a son this time.” Joseph spoke carefully, as if any word might cause hurt.
“It is a boy. I know it. I don’t need any tests to tell me. The boppli feels different this time, and everyone says that’s a sure sign.”
Alarm shivered through Anna. She had to find something to say to defuse the situation. Myra seemed to be teetering on the edge of an explosion.
“We could start a crib quilt for the boppli,” she said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
The words, meant to comfort, seemed to have the opposite effect.
“Don’t talk as if I were a child myself.” Myra’s voice rose. “You think there is something wrong. There’s not! Nothing is wrong with my baby!”
They were all stunned into silence, to hear gentle Myra shout at them. Then Sarah, never having heard that tone from her mother, burst into tears. Gracie’s face puckered, and in an instant she was crying, too.
Myra’s chair scraped as she shoved it back. Anna expected her to go to Sarah. Instead, she turned and hurried from the room, shoulders stiff. They heard the thump of her feet on the stairs, followed by the slam of the bedroom door.
Anna leaned over Gracie, trying to comfort her. “Hush, hush, little one. It’s all right.”
Moving stiffly, Joseph lifted Sarah from her chair, cuddling her in his lap. He looked at Samuel, his eyes dark with misery.
“I’m sorry. You tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry.” He glanced at Anna, as if to include her in the apology.
“It’s forgotten,” Samuel said quickly. “Myra is all that’s important now.”
Joseph nodded, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Ja.” He cleared his throat. “Anna, you and Leah, you will help, ja?”
“Of course we will.” Pain clenched her heart to see her big brother look so hurt and bewildered. She would do anything she could to make this better.
And what if she had to leave? What would she do then?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After
nicking himself with the screwdriver twice in ten minutes and coming within an inch of slicing Matthew’s hand, Samuel had decided that he was a danger in the shop. Leaving Matthew to carry on, he’d brought Mr. Bartlett’s new young horse to the ring to work him for a bit. That, at least, he could do without danger to anyone else.
His problem wasn’t hard to figure out. His heart was with Myra at the clinic, and his mind busy with prayers for her.
Be with her now, dear Lord. Open her to hear the counselor’s words.
The two-year-old gelding, apparently sensing his lack of concentration, dropped to a walk. Samuel flicked the lunge whip in his general direction to get him moving again.
After Myra’s outburst at supper last night, he’d thought it would be impossible to get her to the appointment, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Maybe she’d actually frightened herself as much as she had them.
In any event, when Joseph had gone up to the bedroom to talk to her once the children were settled, she’d been so passive that that seemed to frighten him, too. Convinced this was for the best, bolstered by Anna’s conviction, he’d finally gotten her agreement to see the counselor.
This morning she’d clung to Anna, so it had been decided that Anna would go with Joseph and Myra while Leah stayed with the children. Samuel didn’t doubt that Leah had spent the time praying, just as he had.
When he spotted the car turning into the lane, he slowed the horse, bringing him in smaller and smaller circles until the animal stood next to him. He stroked the strong neck, murmuring quietly for a few minutes before turning the colt into the adjacent pasture.
Common sense told him that they could hardly expect a miracle from one session. Even so, he wanted to rush into the house, needing assurance that his little sister was better.
He contented himself with strolling toward the back porch, wondering whether it would be too obvious if he went inside for a drink of water. Maybe so. Instead he used the pump by the porch, lingering over filling the tin cup, pushing his straw hat back on his head, drinking. He was about ready to repeat the process when Anna came out of the house.
He waited until she neared him, reading the tension in the fine lines around her eyes. “How did it go?”
“Not here.”
Anna took a quick glance around. She nodded toward the grape arbor and led him quickly to the slight privacy it provided. Then she turned toward him, and what she saw in his face must have telegraphed how worried he was.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s nothing bad. The counselor was very encouraging.”
“But you’re still concerned.” He could read her feelings so easily, even as relief flooded through him at the counselor’s confidence.
“I’m just not sure.” She bit her lip for an instant. “Myra was so quiet when she came out of the office. I thought—I hoped and prayed we’d see . . . well, some sign that she’s coming to grips with the situation.” Anna looked up at his face. “I pushed this, I know. Have we done the right thing? What if . . .”
“Now stop.” He took hold of her arms, feeling the tension in her. “Anna, you must not think that way. You saw how Myra was last night. You know we had to make this decision for her, out of love.”
“It’s so difficult. I keep thinking of Jannie, of how I questioned myself every day. Was I doing the right thing for her? I’d never been responsible for anyone before. Never wanted to, never thought I could be.”
Her uncertainty took hold of Samuel’s heart and squeezed. “Was that why you ran away from us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She shook her head. “It didn’t work, if that was why. I took responsibility for Jannie and then Gracie. And now Myra.” Her voice trembled. “What if I’m wrong?”
“I told you. You’re not wrong.” He drew her closer, uncertain if this was what she needed, but longing to comfort her.
With a sigh, Anna leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.
Comforting,
he told himself.
That’s all she needs right now.
“This time you’re not alone.” He said the words softly, his breath stirring the hair at her temples. “We’re all taking responsibility for our Myra. We all love her, and the boppli.”
Anna nodded, and he felt the movement. His heart was so full it seemed it would burst out of his chest. He longed to tell her what he felt, but this . . . this was like walking on ice. The smallest misstep could send him plunging to the depths.
So he stood, holding her, sensing the tension ebb slowly from her body. Loving her.
How foolish he had been, to think he couldn’t love anyone for fear he was like his father. When true love came, it wiped away every doubt. If he told her . . .
No, not now. Not when she was so worried. He rested his cheek against her hair and was content.
“Anna?” Leah’s voice accompanied the slam of the screen door. “Are you out here?”
Anna pulled back, wiping her face with her palms. “I’m here.” She walked quickly out of the arbor, and Samuel followed.
Leah stood at the bottom of the porch steps, looking a little flushed when she saw them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“I was just filling Samuel in on what happened,” Anna said quietly.
“Gut.” If Leah thought anything else, she was wise enough not to say. “I’m heading home now. I’ll stop over sometime tomorrow.”
“That would be a help,” Samuel said. “You understand this better than we do.”
Leah shook her head. “You’re both doing fine.” She patted his hand, and then seemed to realize that she was holding an envelope. “I nearly forgot. Matthew brought the mail in. There was a letter for you.” She handed the envelope to Anna and hugged her. “Don’t worry too much, the pair of you. Myra will be well.”
Anna gave her a quick squeeze. “Denke, Leah. Da Herr sie mit du.”
May God be with you
. It was the first time Samuel had heard Anna use the loving response since her return. Leah’s eyes sparkled, and she walked quickly toward the buggy as Matthew drove it up.
Anna stood for a moment, holding the envelope in her hand. She looked a bit frightened. “Samuel, it is from Aaron Esch. The family . . .”
“Ja, I know.” The family whose buggy she had hit. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
She took a deep breath and then ripped the envelope open. A single sheet of paper fell out. “It is from Aaron’s wife.”
She bent her head to the words, and he murmured a quick, silent prayer. Anna was dealing with enough just now. Let the letter not make things worse.
She looked up at him, pressing her lips together as if to keep them from trembling. “She says they will see me, if that is what I want.”
“Is it?”
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I think so. It’s time I took responsibility for what I did.”
“It’s a long drive to the Esch farm. I will take you there, if you like.”
Her fingers closed over his. “Denke, Samuel.”
Giggling,
Sarah sent a spray of bathwater onto Gracie’s round tummy. Gracie responded by waving both hands, splashing herself in the face and dampening the front of Anna’s dress. She looked so startled at what she’d done that Anna was surprised into a laugh.
“Two little fishes swimming in the creek.” Anna grabbed the towels she had waiting. “The big bird swoops down and snatches them up.”
She scooped Gracie up with one towel and then quickly grabbed Sarah with the other, leaving no time for wails about leaving the bath.
“Bird, bird,” Sarah cried, entranced with the new game. “Dry me, bird.”
“I will, I will.” Anna pulled them both into her arms, rubbing their pink bodies with the towels. She was getting herself nearly as wet as they were, but holding them so close made it worthwhile. Their innocent laughter was an antidote to the day’s worries.
They were probably making more noise than they should, since Myra was supposedly asleep in the bedroom across the hall. Myra had spent the afternoon there, come down and picked at her supper without speaking, then gone back up again, saying she was tired.
It was so unusual for Myra to sleep during the day that Joseph’s stress had shot up again. Maybe it would have been better to let Myra come to terms with the baby’s problems on her own. Maybe . . .
Since Anna had the same worries, she could hardly argue. She’d chased him and Samuel off to keep Sarah and Gracie occupied while she did the dishes. A half hour in Samuel’s calm, steady presence would be better for Joseph than a half hour of asking questions to which they had no answers.
Anna popped nightgowns on the two squirming children, thinking that she could have used a quiet half hour with Samuel herself. For an instant she was back in his arms again, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.
Gracie wiggled free of her and made a dash for the bath, clearly intending to climb back in.
“No, you don’t.” Anna snatched her up, nuzzling her soft, damp cheek until Gracie giggled. “Time for two little girls to have their stories.”
“Sarah pick,” Sarah declared, and darted for the bedroom.
Gracie twisted to join her cousin, so Anna put her down and followed the two of them into their bedroom. Gracie grabbed a book as well, and Anna sat on Sarah’s bed, drawing Gracie onto her lap and snuggling Sarah against her.
The orange reflection of the setting sun suffused the room with a gentle glow, and the soft sounds of evening filtered in—the whoo of an owl, the distant clop of a horse’s hoof, the continuous cricket chirping.