Authors: Brenda Minton
Chapter Twenty
G
reta flushed hot with humiliation. She gathered the broken pieces of crockery and carefully stacked them on her palm. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.”
She dropped the broken bits in the trash can, turned back to the sink and plunged her shaking hands into the soapy water.
“It's not the first time I've been yelled at,” Toby said quietly.
“It's the first time you have been yelled at by me. You are right to point out my failings. I must work on them.”
Naomi came up behind Greta. “Are you all right?”
Greta pasted a false smile on her face. “I'm just cranky. I guess I got up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“It's okay, child. I understand that this is hard for you. Toby, why don't you see if Arles is ready for some breakfast?”
He left the kitchen and Greta was able to relax. “I shouldn't have yelled at him. He's a guest in your home.”
“It's your home, too.”
“It doesn't feel like it with
him
here.”
Lizzie came to stand beside her. “By
him,
I assume you mean Morris and not Toby? What we hope to accomplish will not happen in a single day.”
“I know that. I guess the problem is that I don't believe it will happen at all.”
“Is that what all your book learning has told you?” Betsy asked.
Greta frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Betsy crossed her arms. “I've seen the books you bring home from the library in town and keep under your mattress. I know you've read a lot about this.”
So her studies weren't as much a secret as she thought. She nodded. “I have read a lot about this subject. Sadly, abusers, unless they have a true desire to change, fall back into the same old pattern.”
Betsy gripped Greta's arm. “Then we must pray that God will change our uncle's heart.”
“You don't know how often I have prayed for that very thing. I've prayed for years.” Greta's voice quivered. She wouldn't allow herself to cry.
Betsy hugged her. “We all have.”
“And you think it has done no good?” Naomi asked.
Greta bowed her head. “I don't believe that. Prayer always does good. Even if you don't receive what you are asking for.”
Naomi gathered all the girls into a hug. “If we pray to accept God's will, we will always be answered.”
Greta laid her head against her step-grandmother's shoulder. “Have I been praying for the wrong thing?”
“Only you can answer that.”
* * *
The rest of the day passed quickly. The women filled the hours with cooking and slipping away to secretly make small Christmas gifts for each other. Carl and Joe worked on the books, but Joe was constantly rising and going to the window. He wasn't used to being indoors. Greta knew he wanted to be out among the sheep.
Arles found a book from Carl's collection about Africa. As Carl had lived there briefly, he was able to answer Arles's many questions.
Greta felt Toby's eyes on her frequently. She knew he was still troubled by her outburst, but she had no way to reassure him in front of everyone. Finding any time alone together in the crowded house proved to be impossible. In the evening, Marianne took a book to Morris who was dozing in his chair. “Would you read to me?” she asked when he opened his eyes and looked at her.
Greta was ready to intervene if he became rude, but to her surprise, he sat up and took the book. “What do you have here, Miriam?”
“It's called
The Farm on Apple Creek
.”
He opened the cover. “So it is. I read this when I was little, too.”
Marianne pulled a chair over beside him and leaned on the arm of his chair as he turned the pages of the book and read to her.
Greta looked at her sisters. They were all as amazed as she was.
The blizzard raged through the night and showed no signs of stopping. The sound began to wear on everyone's nerves. Early the following morning, the women were gathered in the kitchen discussing the chores that needed to be done that day. Arles and Toby were upstairs. Carl and Joe were still working on the taxes with papers spread out around them. Naomi said, “Marianne, I need a favor.”
“What?” The girl looked up with interest.
“I have several dozen Christmas cards I need to send yet, but I don't have any store-bought ones left. Would you help me make cards? I have scissors and glue and paper, I just haven't gotten around to starting them.”
“I guess. I used to help
Mamm
make them at Christmastime.
“I can help, too,” Greta offered. “Marianne, you will find some wrapping paper with birds and winter scenes on it in the desk in my room. Pick the ones you like and bring them down here.”
“Okay.” Marianne went running up the stairs.
Naomi rubbed her hands together. “
Goot.
After the dishes and morning chores are done, we will get our cards started. As soon as I find my list of people who still need cards. They might be late if the mail carrier can't get through, but no one will mind. They will have them well before Old Christmas.”
Greta chuckled. January 6, Epiphany, was celebrated as Old Christmas by many Amish. Naomi and Joseph would keep it as a family day, with visiting and feasting, celebrating in much the same way as Christmas Day, but no gifts would be exchanged.
“What is the matter with that cat?” Betsy asked, looking toward the living room.
Greta heard Christmas meowing in the other room. She broke away from the group and went to investigate. Morris was sitting by the window staring out at the snow. Christmas paced back and forth in front of him meowing loudly.
“
Onkel
, are you okay?”
“Miriam doesn't like the snow, but I do,” he said in a soft odd voice. He began rubbing his left arm.
“
Onkel
, where are your nitroglycerin pills?”
“In my room.”
She rushed into his room and saw them on the night table. She snatched them up and hurried to his side. “Put one under your tongue.”
“Why?” His blank face contorted with sudden pain. He curled forward and almost fell from the chair.
She caught him and held him up. Her grandfather and Carl jumped to their feet. Carl moved quickly to her side. “What's wrong?”
“He needs one of his pills. Help me sit him back.”
Carl helped Morris sit back in the chair. Greta's hand shook as she slipped a pill in his mouth. His face was contorted with pain and turned a ghastly pale color. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “
Daadi
, bring him a glass of water.”
Her grandfather hurried to the kitchen. When he returned, her sisters and Naomi followed him. “What's going on?” Naomi asked.
“
Onkel
Morris is having one of his angina attacks. The pill should help. If it doesn't, he can have another one in a few minutes. After that...” She let her voice trail off. If the pills didn't help, they would be unable to get him to a doctor.
Her family hovered around her. Slowly, Morris's contorted face began to relax. His color improved and his ragged breathing slowed. He opened his eyes. “Can you take a sip of water?” Greta asked.
He nodded weakly. She held the glass to his lips. He managed to swallow a little, then pushed it aside. “
Goot
Greta,
goot
little mouse.”
For once, his words didn't sting. She rose to her feet. “With a cat and mouse in the house and by God's grace you may enjoy another day.”
He sat up straighter. “Did the child see?”
“She's still upstairs.”
“Why is everyone staring at me? Don't you have work to do?” He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Everyone but Greta returned to other parts of the house. Marianne came downstairs with her arms full of wrapping paper. She stopped at the bottom and looked around the room. “Where is my brother?”
“Behind you.” Toby came down the stairs.
She looked up with relief. “I got scared when Christmas ran out of the room. I thought you were leaving.”
Toby rubbed her head. “I can't go anywhere. There's a blizzard outside.”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “I guess that's true. Where is Christmas?”
“She's with me,” Morris said. The cat was now curled on his lap purring loudly.
“Will you watch her for me while I make Christmas cards with Naomi and Greta?”
“For a little while.” Morris stroked the cat and stared out the window. He took another sip of water from the glass on the table.
“Danki.”
Marianne said cheerfully. Her voice, although hoarse, was stronger than it had been. “Greta, are these the papers you wanted me to use?”
“They are. Let's go in the kitchen.” She glanced uneasily at Morris, but left the room, anyway. Her grandfather and Carl would keep an eye on him.
She set about gathering the things they would need to make Christmas cards. Toby stood beside her as she laid out the pieces of paper and the blank cards. After glancing around the room, he asked, “What's going on?”
“
Onkel
Morris had another attack.”
“Is he okay?”
“I'm not sure. I think this was the worst one I have seen yet.”
How many more could his damaged heart endure? How much time did he have left? Was he ready to face his Maker?
Naomi brought a box of crayons to the table. “Are you going to help us, Toby?”
“Sure, if you don't mind?”
“Not at all. I'm sure Greta will be thrilled to have your help.”
Greta flashed Naomi an astonished look. What did she mean by that? Did she think there was something between them? The thought had no more crossed her mind before Naomi winked at her and whispered, “I like him.”
Naomi turned to Betsy and Lizzie who were assembling ingredients for their baking marathon. “What shall we make first?”
The three women put their heads together over a recipe book, but when they looked up, they all looked at Greta and smiled before giggling and returning to the task. Surely Betsy was not spreading rumors about her and Toby? Greta's entire family was nuts. They all had romance on their minds.
When no one else was close enough to overhear, Toby stepped close to Greta. “Are we okay? You and me?”
His warm breath brushed her ear. Her heart started racing.
This foolishness had to stop. She was setting herself up for a serious case of heartache when he left.
He gazed into her eyes. “Are we?
Chapter Twenty-One
“W
e are okay. Well, you are. I still need some work.” Greta gave Toby a shy smile that made his heart skip a beat.
“I think you are doing fine. Can I help make the cards?”
“Have you any artistic skills?”
“Not a one. I do know how to use scissors.”
“Then you are welcome to join us, if it is okay with Marianne?” She looked over her shoulder at his sister laying out markers and crayons along with scissors at the far end of the table.
“Sure, you can help,” she said. She looked up suddenly. “Unless you have something else you would rather do.”
“And what would I rather do than make Christmas cards?”
She chewed her lip for a second. “It's kind of a girlie thing.”
He held up both hands. “I draw the line at wearing a bonnet to do this.”
She giggled. “That's just silly.”
“That's me, silly Toby.”
“
Daed
used to say silly things like that to make
Mamm
laugh.”
Toby's heart twisted with pain. “He did, and she loved to laugh. I miss them, but I'm glad they are together.”
“Me, too.”
Greta sat down beside Marianne. “Why don't you make a Christmas card for them?”
Marianne looked up with a scowl. “We can't mail it.”
“I know, but they can see it,” Toby said, pleased with Greta's idea.
“Yeah, they can. Okay. This is
Mamm's
favorite color.” Marianne reached for a blue card.
The next half hour was spent cutting out flowers and birds and gluing them on to the card stock. Greta drew a sheep on one and then glued cotton balls to it for fleece. Marianne was impressed.
Naomi wrote greetings and Bible verses inside each one and addressed the envelopes. Lizzie and Betsy were busy baking oatmeal cookies, and the kitchen was soon filled with delicious smells. Toby got up to sneak a few nibbles, but Lizzie laughingly chased him away with a wooden spoon.
They were nearing the end of Naomi's list when Carl and Joe came into the kitchen. Joe stopped beside Toby. “Would you care to come down to the barn and see our operation?”
“I'd like that. Marianne, you don't mind if I go with Joe and Carl, do you?”
She stopped coloring a rainbow over a farm. “You'll come back, won't you?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. But don't be gone long.”
“I won't.” He was relieved that she agreed. She was getting over her complete dependence on him. Things might not have gone so well without Greta on this trip. He was more thankful than ever that the Lord saw fit to bring them together. Toby lifted his coat and hat off the peg by the front door.
“Just a minute,” Greta said.
She left the room and came back a few moments later with a heavy knitted gray scarf in her hands. “We wouldn't want your nose to freeze off.”
She wrapped it around his neck. Her hands lingered briefly on his shoulders. Their eyes met. His world narrowed until the only thing in it was her beautiful face and the tenderness shining in her eyes. She was close enough to kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Two
H
ow did she do that? How did she make his common sense fly out the window? He glanced at her family all watching him. He took a step back. “I'm ready.”
Toby followed Joe and Carl outside. Duncan, Carl's ever-present shadow, came with them. The swirling white storm was disorienting. It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. If not for the fence that led from the corner of the yard to the side of the barn, Toby wasn't sure they could've found their way. Although he was dressed for the weather, he was still surprised by the brutal cold.
He stepped inside the barn with a big sigh of relief and was sorry instantly. One thing Greta hadn't mentioned about sheep was the smell. They stank. And there were only half a dozen in the barn. What would it be like with nearly two hundred of them inside?
Carl pulled down his scarf and grinned at Joe. “It's good to be out of the house, isn't it?”
Joe grinned. “You can say that again. Sometimes I can't breathe in a closed-up space.”
Toby thought of the delicious smells in the house and decided that shepherds were odd people if they would rather be out with these smelly creatures.
They soon had the sheep, the horses and the cows taken care of. Carl led the way to a newer section of the barn. “This is our lambing shed. It has all the comforts of home. Propane-powered refrigerator for keeping frozen colostrum and milk substitute, propane heater to keep the place warm, a small stove to heat bottles and a couple of cots that we almost never use.”
“Why so many small pens?” Toby surveyed the numerous compartments on either side of the main aisle. The area was much cleaner than the larger pens.
“All these small pens are for the orphan lambs or for grafting an orphan to a ewe that has lost a lamb or only has one.”
“We doctor the sick ewes in here, too,” Joe added.
“Do you get a lot of orphans?” Toby asked.
“We don't lose many ewes, but often an ewe with multiple lambs will only nurse one or two. We pen the ewe with the motherless lamb and hope she will nurse him. If she can't get away from the lamb, the little one's persistence to suckle can pay off. Sometimes it works, sometimes we end up bottle-feeding them.”
Carl settled his hip on the wooden rail of one of the pens. “Sometimes we end up bottle-feeding a lot of them. I'm sorry you have been stranded with us, Toby. I wish there was some way we could let your family know that you are okay. It's a shame that your driver broke his phone.”
“My aunt is a practical woman. She won't fret if we are a day or two late. Her oldest daughters work in a bakery in town. I can call and leave a message with them. How far away is your phone shack?”
“Too far to go in this weather. We must pray it breaks soon. If it doesn't, I will have a lot of buried sheep,” Joe said.
“And that will not be fun,” Carl added. “Greta is very taken with your little sister. I noticed they seem to have bonded.”
Toby laughed. “Probably because they were shut together inside a space smaller than these orphan pens for two days.”
“
Nee
, it is because she is a sweet child,” Greta said from the doorway to the barn. “She is beginning to worry about you, Toby. I told her I would come and check on you.”
“Then I should get back.”
Carl stood. “Joe, you and I need to dig open the south doors so some of the ewes can get inside if they want.”
“We should've done it before the snow got so deep. I doubt many of them are moving around.”
“No one was prepared for this much snow in such a short period of time. We'll just have to do the best we can. Besides, there is a cedar tree outside the fence at that corner. If you can get through the drift, you can cut some branches for Naomi.”
“The things I do for that woman.” Taking a pair of grain shovels from hooks on the wall, the two men headed toward the south end of the building.
“I want to thank you for the card suggestion. It was a nice idea. I appreciate all you have done for my sister.”
She clapped her hands together to knock the snow off of her gloves. “I wasn't much older than she is when I lost my parents. I understand what she's going through. What you are going through, too.”
“I have accepted that it was God's will. What I don't understand is why Marianne had to suffer. I would give anything to have taken her place. I should have been there.”
“God had a reason for that.”
He settled his hip on the railing as Carl had done and folded his arms and admitted his shameful part in the tragedy. “I was out at a movie with my friends. My parents didn't even know I wasn't home. They had gone to bed and I was getting ready to do that when one of my buddies knocked on my window. They had a car waiting at the end of the lane and they had a date for me. I almost said no. I had to work the next day, but a few hours of fun sounded much better than a few hours of sleep. It wasn't even a good movie. I should have stayed home.”
“It was not your time.”
He stood up “I know that. If I had been there, Marianne might be alone now. God needs me to take care of her. We should go back to the house since she is worried. She is doing better at allowing me out of her sight, but I know how easily she can become frightened.”
“You are good brother. God will bless you.” She led the way back to the house.
When he walked inside, he found his sister sobbing and on the verge of hysterics. She ran toward him. He knelt to catch her. She threw her arms around him and held on tight enough to choke him. She didn't care that he was covered in snow.
“Marianne, stop it. I'm back. I told you I would be and I am. Calm down.”
“I was worried. I couldn't see you. Don't go out again.”
“I won't go out until it stops snowing and we can go home.”
“Promise?” She drew back, wiped her nose on her sleeve and stared into his eyes.
“I promise. Can I have a smile now?”
“Not yet.” She threw her arms around his neck again.
Toby managed to shed his coat with Naomi's help, then he lifted his sister in his arms and carried her into the living room. He sat down on the sofa with her in his lap. The cat left Morris to seek attention from Marianne.
“What was all the fuss about? Why are you blubbering like a baby?” Morris asked.
Marianne let go of Toby and wiped her face. “I'm not a baby.” She pulled the cat into her lap.
“That's easy enough to see. So why are you crying like one?”
“I got scared.”
“She gets frightened if I'm gone for too long,” Toby explained.
“You shouldn't coddle her for such behavior. It makes her weak.”
It was his guilt that made him coddle Marianne, Toby knew that. But he didn't know how else to respond to her needs. He noticed Greta watching them from the doorway to the kitchen. Her eyes told him of her sympathy. For himself, or for Marianne, he couldn't be sure which.
“I'm weak because I was in the hospital just like you,” his sister told Morris.
“It was a miserable place, if you ask me.” Morris turned back to the window.
“And as soon as we get you home, you will grow strong again,” Toby assured her.
She scrubbed her face with her hands and nodded. “
Aenti
Linda said in her letters that I will get better quick as a wink when I get there. Can we go there soon? I want to go home.”
Toby prayed that his aunt's words would prove true. He heard the outside door open. Greta glanced over her shoulder. It sounded as if Joe and Carl had come in. Toby leaned sideways to look at Marianne's face. “Are the tears done?”
Greta came to crouch in front of her. “If they are, you can help us put out the greenery. Would you like that?”
Greta held out her hand and helped Marianne scoot off Toby's lap. Naomi, Betsy and Lizzie came into the living room carrying fragrant bundles of cedar branches in a burlap sack. Marianne, her tears forgotten, helped them tie together the branches with cord to make a strand long enough to drape over the mantel.
Greta, smiling like a kid herself, tickled Marianne's good ear with the tip of a branch. Christmas, not wanting to be left out of the fun, began chasing the dangling end of the cord. Marianne giggled and teased the cat, making her dart left and right as she jiggled the other end.
“The snow will stop soon and you can take her home,” Morris said.
Toby glanced at Morris, but his gaze was still fixed out the window. Looking back, he met Greta's gaze across the room. Toby realized with a jolt that he didn't want to leave. Pennsylvania was simply too far away from the woman he couldn't get off his mind. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I hope it snows for a month of Sundays.”
* * *
Greta rolled out of bed the next morning and drew back the curtains. It was still snowing. Possibly harder than it had the day before.
He wouldn't be leaving today. She grinned, rubbed her hands together and turned around to find Betsy watching her.
Her sister arched one eyebrow. “Okay, what's going on?”
Greta composed her face. She glanced at Marianne's bed and saw the child was still sleeping. She lowered her voice. “I don't know what you mean.”
Betsy spoke softly, too. “No one is that happy to see a blizzard this close to Christmas.”
Greta went to the closet and pulled out a lavender dress with a black apron. It wasn't her best dress, that one was reserved for Sunday services, but it was her second best. Much nicer than her worn and stained everyday garments. “I like snow.”
“No you don't. I think you're grinning because one certain guest will be staying a few more days.”
Unable to keep her happiness contained, Greta glanced over her shoulder at Betsy. “Does it show?”
“To someone who doesn't know you well, maybe not. To your sister, it shows.”
Greta crossed the room to sit on the bed beside Betsy. “It's foolish, isn't it?”
“It's not going to snow forever,” Betsy said gently.
Greta picked at a loose thread on the quilt. “I know. But it's snowing today and I'm going to be thankful for that. He makes me laugh. Sometimes, he seems to know what I'm thinking. Odd, isn't it?”
Betsy pulled the covers back to her chin. “It's too early to be up. Go back to sleep.”
“Betsy, can I ask you a question?”
“If you must. Then will you go back to sleep?”
“Are you in love with Alvin?”
Flipping the quilt down, Betsy folded her arms and studied the ceiling. “I think we will get there. We are comfortable with each other. We like the same things. We want the same things. He's a good man.”
“But if you don't love him, surely you aren't thinking of marriage?” Greta reached out to take Betsy's hand.
“I am thinking about it, but I'm young and I'm not in any hurry to settle down. Enough about me, what about your new fellow? He's good-looking. I love his smile and that dimple!”
Greta returned to pulling at the loose thread. “They'll be leaving soon. He has a sister to take care of. You saw how she was when he was outside.”
“Poor Marianne. She has had a lot of sorrow for one so young. Have you noticed how taken with her our uncle is? He never treated us so kindly.”
“That's true, but if she can reach him, our uncle is not beyond hope. Betsy, have you forgiven him?”
“I have forgiven him, but I have not forgotten his cruelty. What about you?”
“I have not forgotten or forgiven. I think God must be very disappointed in me.”
“I think God is much more disappointed with
Onkel
Morris. It's cold up here. I think I hear Naomi in the kitchen. Let's get downstairs so you can make sheep eyes at Toby and I can warm my toes by the fire.”
“I haven't been making sheep eyes at him.”
“I don't know what else you would call it.”
“Have I really? Do you think he noticed?”
Betsy began to dress quickly. “I don't see how he could miss it because he's always making sheep eyes at you, too.”
“Is he?” That giddy sensation returned in full force. She couldn't help but smile. She closed her eyes to hold the feeling close.
When she opened them, she saw Betsy's smile had faded. Her expression grew serious. “Greta, are you falling for Toby?”
Some of her happiness fled. “I don't know. Maybe.”
“Oh, please, don't.”
“Why do you say that?” She thought Betsy would understand.
“If you have to ask, I'm really worried. I thought you were just having some fun, a little flirtation. You've only known him a few days. Days! Do you hear what I'm saying? He's going to be gone as soon as the snow lets up. He lives hundreds of miles away. Do you think he'll come courting on Saturday evenings or after Sunday services?”
Why did her sister have to make it sound so hopeless? “I know he won't. But I'm happy when I'm with him. Is that so bad?”
Betsy sighed. “It isn't bad, but don't lose your head. Or your heart. Be sensible, Greta. Please.”
“I will,” she said, but was it already too late?