A Simple Change (13 page)

“I do, Mother. It is not my intention to hurt him.”

She extended her hand. “Help me back into bed, and then you should go downstairs before the ants have eaten your dinner.”

Ritt sat with his back against the fat trunk of a large elm. His straw hat was pushed forward to block the sunlight from his eyes, and his left arm rested atop the picnic basket. He'd fallen asleep while waiting for me.

A branch cracked beneath my shoe when I approached, and he startled. His hat tumbled to the ground as he straightened his shoulders. I gestured toward the basket. “I'm pleased to see you were protecting our lunch from any stray animals.”

“A man who falls asleep doesn't offer much protection, so I'm glad there were no attacks.” He chuckled and placed a hand on his stomach. “I'm glad you're here. My stomach has been telling me it's past time to eat.”

Hands on hips, I feigned indignation. “And how could you hear your stomach when you were asleep?”

We laughed together as I sat down beside him and lifted the napkin from atop the basket. Such a simple thing—enjoying a picnic in the backyard while birds twittered overhead. I couldn't recall an outing with Nathan when I'd experienced such anticipation and happiness. Though we'd attended the theater and dinner parties and taken walks in the park, none of those occasions had been joyful. Instead of pleasure, there seemed always to be a hint of reserve—on both of our parts. Would things be different if I allowed myself to relax in Nathan's company?

I tried to remember the last time Nathan and I had laughed aloud about something—anything. Yet I couldn't. Our times together had borne a sense of obligation rather than delight. Is that what I wanted for the remainder of my life? A man who derived more pleasure from his work than his family? On the other hand, I wasn't sure I wanted to wash dirty linens and scrub floors in the men's dormitory for the rest of my life, either.

And then there were the children.

I shook my head. Clearly I was getting ahead of myself.

Ritt leaned close and peeked into the basket. “Sister Bertha said she placed beef sandwiches, pickles, radish salad, cottage cheese, and stewed apples with raisins in each of the picnic baskets.”

His breath tickled my neck and sent shivers racing down my spine. “Since you are so hungry, maybe you need a spoon instead of a fork to eat your salad and cottage cheese. It might let you eat faster.” Turning toward him, I inhaled a slight gasp and quickly tilted my head away. Had I leaned forward by only a hairsbreadth, our lips would have met.

“I think I would like a fork for my right hand and a spoon for my left.” He picked up the utensils, held one in each hand, and pretended to dig into the cottage cheese. “What do you think? This way is the very best, ja?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I joined his laughter.

“I think I should hurry and fill my plate before there is nothing left for me.”

Ritt grinned as he placed one of the sandwiches on my plate. “I would never let you go without food. I would starve before I would let that happen.”

He grasped my hand and looked into my eyes. Passion replaced
the mischievous look from only moments ago. My mouth turned as dry as cotton batting, and I stared at him, unable to speak.

“I am sorry. I have upset you.” He released my hand and looked away.

I reached forward and clutched his arm. “No! Nothing you've said or done has displeased me in the least.” I touched my fingers to my neck. “My throat became dry and I couldn't speak.”

“Then it is gut that I filled a jug with water.” He filled a glass and handed it to me. “This should help.”

I downed the water in giant gulps. “That helped. Thank you.”

“Is your Vater in Kansas City to sign the papers to sell his company?” He scooped a mound of cottage cheese onto his plate. When I hesitated, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Is none of my business why he must go there.”

I shook my head and pointed to my mouth as I swallowed a bite of the sandwich. “I don't object to answering your question.” I hoped my smile would reassure him that he hadn't offended me. “In truth, I'm pleased to discuss what happened, as I'm very worried about what will occur while he's away.” While we continued with our lunch, I explained what little I knew about the accident. “I don't know why the police want to speak with him.”

“You are worried they think he was involved?”

I shrugged. “Yes. And I don't understand why they insisted upon his return when his lawyer is available to answer any questions. Mr. Hartzfeld—my father's lawyer—has already told the police that Father wasn't in Kansas City at the time of the explosion, so what could they want to ask him?” I sighed. “To make matters worse, we don't know how long he'll be gone. I worry my mother's health will spiral into a rapid decline if he doesn't return within four or five days.”

“I am sorry this has happened, but maybe the police want to hear from your Vater's lips that he knows nothing. Then maybe they will let him return home. Ja?”

I wanted to believe that would happen, but I had my doubts. “We should talk about something more pleasant on such a pretty day.”

“We could talk about Madelyn receiving some nice remarks on her school papers yesterday.”

I perked to attention. “Did she? And she didn't even tell me!” I folded my arms across my chest. “You tell her that I expect a full report as soon as she returns from the river. I can't believe she didn't bring the papers to show me.”

Ritt frowned. “I should not have said anything. If she comes downstairs with the papers, please act surprised.”

“You have my word. Besides, whatever her teacher has written on the papers will be a surprise to me. You've told me only that she received a good report.”

He stacked the dishes into the picnic basket. “She has gained more from your lessons than just gut remarks on her school papers.”

“What do you mean? I've helped her with nothing else.”

He pointed his index finger to the side of his head. “Is true you have helped her up here, but you have helped her here, too.” Lowering his hand, he patted his palm against his chest. “She feels better about herself—not ashamed. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

I nodded. “Yes. I understand. Now that she is able to compete with the other children her own age, she feels more confident.”

“So I think I must say I was wrong. For Madelyn it is very important that she be able to read and write.”

I grinned at him. “Only Madelyn?”

“We will see. Maybe for everyone, but I should not rush too quickly in changing my mind. Then you would become too . . . what was that word you said?” He furrowed his brow. “Confident! That was it. Ja?”

I nodded. “Yes, that was it.”

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his bent knees. “I would like to learn about your work at the orphanage. Tell me about the children and also your life in Kansas City.” He grinned. “I want to know all about you.”

His interest surprised but pleased me. Most men I'd been around were more interested in talking about themselves and their own accomplishments. As I spoke of the children, he asked questions and laughed when I related some of their antics. “They have been a very important part of my life.”

“Ja, and that is gut. We all need to serve and use the talents God has given us.”

A train whistled in the distance, and I turned toward the sound. “I hope my father returns very soon.”

“We will pray for his safe return.” He lifted the back of my hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss against my skin. His words comforted me, but my doubts remained.

Chapter 13

Several days later, I stopped at the general store, where we received our mail. Though I didn't expect to hear from my father so soon, I'd promised Mother I would check to see if any mail had come for us. I, too, hoped there would be some word from him, but I was also eager for a response from Lilly Manchester. Father had promised he would deliver my letter to her as soon as he arrived in Kansas City. If he'd done as he'd said, and I was certain he had, she'd had sufficient time to write and post a letter.

Brother Traugott's bald head shone in the sunlight beaming through the front window of the store. I greeted him as I strode toward the counter, but my gaze was fastened upon the wall of boxes where the manager placed mail delivered to members of
individual families. My heart picked up a beat when I spied an envelope in the box assigned to us.

“You are in need of some supplies, Sister Jancey?”

I shook my head. “I have come to pick up any mail for our family.” My attention remained fixed on the cream-colored envelope resting in our mailbox.

“Ja, there is a letter for you.” He removed it from the cubbyhole and looked at it for a moment. “Has been here since the day after your Vater departed, but you never came to pick it up.”

My spirits plummeted. If the mail arrived the day after my father left for Kansas City, it wouldn't be from the two people I longed to hear from—Lilly Manchester or my father.

He tapped the envelope on top of the counter. “In the future, you should not wait so long before coming to get your mail. Could be something important. Who can say?”

“You're right. I've grown accustomed to my father picking it up. I'll stop by each day until he returns.”

Brother Traugott turned the envelope facedown and pushed it across the counter. “Gut. We are praying for your Mutter's health and that your Vater will soon return to us.”

“Danke.” I picked up the letter and waited until I was out of sight to turn over the envelope. I stared at the return address.
Nathan.
I should have known. He'd likely written before he knew Father would be coming to Kansas City.

I shoved it into my pocket and strode toward home. I was deep in thought as I continued along the wooden walkway, and it wasn't until I neared home that I noticed Thomas waving to me. I glanced around, hoping no one would see him. Surely he realized he shouldn't act as though we were friends. I signaled for him to stop waving, and though he ceased his wild gestures, I
wasn't sure if he thought that I'd waved in return or wanted him to put his hands in his pockets.

When he drew near, I muttered for him to meet me behind the house. He loped away and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Except for a woman and child I didn't know, the street remained empty. But who could say if anyone had been looking out a window when Thomas waved and approached. It would do no good to worry if we'd been seen, yet I couldn't understand why he'd been so careless.

I glanced around before walking to the side of the house and entering the backyard. Thomas was sitting beneath the same elm where I'd discovered Ritt sleeping on the day we'd picnicked together.

I gestured for him to get up. “Someone could see you. Move back to that stand of bushes.”

He looked around and shrugged. “Who's gonna see me back here?”

“My mother, for one. Her bedroom window looks out at this tree.” I pointed to the window. “Hurry and move.”

Bowing his head to clear one of the low-hanging branches, he didn't stop until he was surrounded by brush and bushes. “Is this good enough?”

“Yes. Why did you approach me out in the open like that? You know I'm not supposed to have contact with you or any other outsiders.”

“I've looked on my trunk every day, but there ain't been one word from you. Did you write a letter? Have you heard anything in return? I thought you said you'd let me know what was happenin'.”

I didn't recall what I'd told him, but I'd never planned on giving
him daily reports. “If I'd heard something, I would have left you a note. When I don't leave you a message, you can assume that I have nothing to report.”

He scratched his head. “Well, did you write to that lady you told me about? That Miss Manchester?”

“Yes. And that's as much as I can tell you.” I folded my arms across my chest. “She might not ever respond. And even if she does, there's no guarantee she'll be able to tell me anything about your sister's whereabouts. I believe I made that very clear.” The bushes swayed and I glanced over my shoulder. “When we last met, you promised to keep your distance. You knew I feared being seen with you, but instead of showing concern for my welfare, you walk down the middle of the street waving at me.” I rested my hands on my hips. “If you ever want to hear anything about your sister, you won't do that again.”

“You got a mighty determined streak, Miss Jancey. I do like a woman who speaks her mind.” He grinned, as though what he liked should make everything fine.

I narrowed my eyes and glowered at him. “And I like a person who keeps his word, Mr. Kingman. That means right now your name would not be included on the list of people that I like.”

He shuffled his feet in the soft dirt. “I'm sorry for being careless. I didn't mean to cause no trouble, but I'm so eager to find Kathleen that I couldn't wait any longer. Please say you'll let me know if you hear something.”

His plea bore a woeful ache that I couldn't deny. “If Miss Manchester sends word, I'll leave a message on your trunk. If I don't leave a note, it will mean I have not heard anything and you should not contact me. Are those instructions clear to you?”

“Yes, Miss Jancey, but I'd be mighty thankful if you'd consider
writing to her again if you don't hear by the end of July.” He reached into his pocket. “I got some money for stamps and paper that I brought for you.”

I shook my head. “I don't want your money, Mr. Kingman. I'm sure you know we don't use money to make purchases here in the colonies.”

“I forgot. Well, if you want, I could go buy a couple stamps at the general store. Old Mr. Traugott's willing to take money from outsiders. And I can buy some paper, too, if you like. You just say the word. I wouldn't mind one bit. It's the least I can do.”

I wanted to agree that it was the least he could do, especially after his wild antics in the street a short time ago, but I didn't want to be further obligated. “No. I don't want any money or stamps or paper. If I haven't heard from Miss Manchester by the end of the month, I will pen another note to her, but that will be the last of it, Mr. Kingman. I do want to help you, if possible, but I think it's best if I set a limit on the amount of help I can offer.”

“Thank you, Miss Jancey. I do appreciate what you're doin' for me, and I promise I won't bother you no more. Just leave me a note when you hear from that lady. And if you don't hear by the end of the month, I'm gonna trust you'll write her another letter without me asking you.” He jammed his worn felt hat onto his head. “I guess that's everything.”

“I believe so.” When he started in the direction of the elm tree, I grasped his arm and nodded toward an isolated trail on the far side of the bushes. “Why don't you take the path over there. You can meet up with the main road before you get to your quarters. That way there's no chance you'll be seen leaving our backyard.”

Using his hip and shoulder, he pushed his way through the tall bushes and disappeared. I rushed around the side of the house and, after entering the front door, stood in the foyer until I regained my composure. If I appeared distressed, Mother would likely assume there was some problem regarding my father.

“Is that you, Jancey?” My mother's voice drifted from the bedroom.

“Yes, I'll be right in, Mother.”

After tucking a loose strand of hair into place, I entered her room. She was sitting in the chair near her bed. “Mother! I thought you promised you wouldn't get up unless I was here to help you.”

“Sister Hanna came home for a short time. Before she went back to the Küche, she helped me into the chair. She was surprised you weren't here.”

Hoping to ignore the comment regarding my whereabouts, I pulled Nathan's letter from my pocket. “I went to the general store to check on the mail. Nothing from Father, but I received a letter from Nathan.”

“What does he have to say? Does he mention anything about your father?”

I shook my head. “Brother Traugott said it arrived the day after Father left for Kansas City.”

Her smile faded. “It worries me that we've heard nothing.”

“Father told you there was no reason for worry. He may be on his way home as we speak. Besides, worry will only rob you of your strength, and you've been getting stronger the past two days. Think how happy Father will be to see you feeling better when he returns.”

I bowed my head and let a sigh escape my lips, thankful I'd
avoided further questions regarding why it had taken me so long to return home. “After I help you back to bed, I think I'll go to the parlor and read my letter.”

“Maybe his letter will cause you to give more thought to a life with him.” She lifted her brows and waited for my response.

Placing my arm beneath her shoulders, I smiled down at her, then helped her up and into bed. “I'm not sure one letter will do that, Mother.”

“But you will tell me what he has to say?”

After arranging her pillows, I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “If there is anything of interest, I will be certain to tell you.”

Holding the letter in my hand, I entered the parlor and sat down in a chair near the window. I stared at the envelope with no excitement or anticipation, another affirmation I'd been wise to leave Kansas City. I seldom thought of him anymore and didn't miss him. Rather than a delight, I found it a chore to correspond with him. This separation proved what I'd already suspected: Nathan and I were not well suited.

I slipped my finger under the seal and withdrew the letter.

My dear Jancey,

I expected to receive a response to my previous letter by now, and I write to tell you my disappointment runs deep. After receiving no letter from you, I have only to wonder if I have offended you in something I have written. If so, I ask that you tell me. I cannot right a wrong unless you tell me what I've done to upset you.

When you last wrote, you told me how busy you are, but it does not take long to pen a short note. My days are filled
with work, as well, but because I care for you, I make time to write. I would never want to cause you to worry.

So far, his letter was nothing more than a reprimand. I sighed and continued reading. The next two paragraphs spoke of concerns about our future should the company be sold.

I am hopeful your father will reconsider and maintain ownership of the company. I am sure you miss the convenience of living in the city as well as your position teaching the children at the orphanage. I spoke with Mr. Ludwig, and he has not filled your position. He states he would be most pleased to have you return.

This separation has not been good for either of us, and I beg you to reconsider your decision and return to Kansas City. Please give my heartfelt plea your deep consideration.

Yours always,
Nathan

I turned over the page, certain there must be more. Nowhere in the letter had he asked about Mother's health. And though he'd spoken to Mr. Ludwig about my job, there was no other mention of the orphanage. In my last letter, I'd enclosed notes to the children. I could only guess that he'd given them to Mr. Ludwig rather than go to see any of my students.

My confusion deepened as I reflected upon the contents of his letter. He thought that he was doing everything in his power to force my return. Instead, he was pushing me further away.