Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Fiction/Christian Romance
Ruth wanted to dash across the space between them and gather the children into her arms. Instead, she reached one hand out to Martha, who stood to her left, and the other hand out to Anna, who stood on her right, looking as though she might break into tears. Was Grace’s daughter thinking about the passing of her English grandmother? Had Alma’s death been a reminder of what Anna had lost? Grace looked on the verge of tears, too. Perhaps her greatest sorrow came from the fact that her husband wasn’t at her side, for Cleon hadn’t returned home yet and probably didn’t even know about Alma’s death.
As the pallbearers filled in the grave, the bishop read a hymn from the Ausbund, a few lines at a time, and a singing group followed. Then the grave was filled in and the soil mounded. Everyone turned away, wearing solemn expressions, and moved slowly toward their buggies.
Everyone but Esta, that is. The young girl dashed across the grass and, sobbing as though her heart would break, threw herself on the ground next to her mother’s grave.
Abe stood as if he was torn between getting his other children into the buggy and going back to offer comfort to his grieving daughter. No one else was close enough to notice the child. Even Ruth’s family had left the gravesite, but she’d stayed put, waiting to see what Abe would do. Finally, when she saw him move toward his buggy again, she rushed over to Esta and knelt on the ground beside her. Gathering the little girl into her arms, she rocked back and forth, gently patting her back.
“Mamma ... Mamma ... why’d you have to leave us?” the child sobbed. “Don’t you know how much we all need you?”
Tears coursed down Esta’s face, wetting the front of Ruth’s dress and mingling with her own tears. At that moment, Ruth promised herself that she would not only pray for the Wengerd family, but she would also drop by their place as often as possible and offer to help in any way she could.
***
As Grace directed her horse and buggy down the road after she and Anna had left Alma’s funeral, she was filled with concern—not only for Abe and his children, but also for Anna, who hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left the burial site. The child was shaken by the death of Esta’s mother, but she’d refused to talk about it. Due to Anna’s melancholy behavior, Grace had decided to get Anna home as quickly as possible, rather than stay for the dinner at Abe’s house.
She glanced over at the child, who sat in the seat beside her with her arms folded and her eyes downcast. If only she knew what was going on in her daughter’s head.
Grace was glad her parents and sisters had stayed for the funeral dinner, for the women’s help was needed serving the meal. Dad and Abe had done a lot of business with each other, as well as sending customers one another’s way, so she knew Dad would want to hang around and offer encouragement to Abe. Grace had noticed that Ruth had taken Esta Wengerd under her wing, and that she’d even been the one to walk the crying child to Abe’s buggy after the graveside service.
Ruth would make a good mother someday, and Grace hoped her sister would find a nice Amish man to marry when the time was right. Maybe it would be Martin Gingerich. He’d certainly shown an interest in Ruth. Martin was rather quiet and shy—nothing like Luke Freisen—but he seemed like a kind man, and from what Abe had told Dad a few weeks ago, Martin was a hard worker.
Grace’s thoughts went to Cleon as she placed one hand against her stomach.
He’ll be sorry when he hears of Alma’s passing. Sorry for Abe and sorry he wasn’t here for the funeral.
She swallowed against the burning lump clogging her throat.
Would Cleon mourn if something were to happen to me, or would he be relieved to have me out of his life?
She shook her head. She shouldn’t allow herself to think this way. It wasn’t good for her to focus on the negative. It wasn’t good for the baby she carried to have its mother feeling so distraught.
As they came down a slight incline, the buggy horse whinnied, halted, and pawed at the ground.
“What’s the matter with you, Ben?” Grace snapped the reins, but the horse refused to move, shaking his head from side to side. His behavior made no sense. Cars weren’t whizzing past, and from what she could see, nothing in the road signaled danger.
She snapped the reins again and reached for the buggy whip. “Giddy-up there, Ben. Move along now, schnell!”
The horse finally moved forward, but he acted skittish, and Grace had to keep prompting him with the buggy whip. Finally, they reached the driveway leading to her folks’ home, and when she turned Ben to the right, he tried to rear up. She pulled back on the reins. “Whoa, now. Steady, boy.”
The horse finally calmed enough so she could get him moving again, but they’d only made it halfway up the driveway when she smelled smoke. Grace forced the horse to keep moving until her Dad’s shop came into view. Nothing wrong there; it looked the same as it had this morning. Past Mom and Dad’s house they went; it looked fine, and so did the barn. She’d just started up the incline to the second driveway when she saw it—smoke and flames coming from her and Cleon’s house!
At first, Grace wasn’t sure what to do. Should she run for the hose and try to put out the fire on her own, or turn the buggy around and head to the closest English neighbors’ to call the fire department? Trying to put out the fire by herself was ridiculous. However, it would take some time for the fire trucks to get there, and the house could be gone by then. If only Dad or Cleon were here, she could go for help while they fought the fire.
Anna squealed and crawled over the seat just as Grace halted the buggy. She turned to reach for the child, but Anna scooted away, climbed out the back opening, and ran toward the burning building.
Grace opened her door and jumped down, too. “Anna, stop! Don’t go near the house!”
The child kept running, and by the time Grace reached the front porch, Anna had already opened the door and slipped inside.
“Oh, dear Lord, no,” Grace panted as she raced in after the child. “Please don’t let anything happen to my little girl!”
***
When Cleon’s bus arrived in Dover, Henry Rawlings, one of the English drivers he sometimes used, picked him up. But Henry needed to make a stop in Berlin, and since Cleon was anxious to get home and make things right with Grace, he headed there on foot.
As he trudged along the shoulder of the road, he thought about his trip to Pennsylvania and how well things had gone. Not only were some bees and hives being shipped home, but also he’d purchased a honey extractor, some goat-hide gloves, a bee veil, a smoker, and a hive tool that would be used to pry frames out of the beehives. He’d also found a couple of outlets that wanted to buy his honey. If things went well, by this time next year, he could have a thriving business again.
He’d also bought Grace a package of stationery with bluebirds scattered along the top of each page. It wasn’t much, but at least it would let her know that he hadn’t forgotten her birthday.
About halfway home, Cleon heard a horn honk. He turned and saw John Peterson’s SUV pull onto the shoulder of the road behind him. “Need a lift?” John called through his open window.
“I’d appreciate that.” Cleon pulled the door open on the passenger’s side and climbed in.
“Heard you’d been on a trip to buy some bees,” John said as he pulled onto the road again.
Cleon nodded. “Bees and boxes, both.”
“Did you have any luck?”
“Sure did. Had the bees, boxes, and beekeeping supplies shipped to my folks’ place. They should be there by now, I’m guessing.”
“Is that where you’re headed then—to see your folks’?”
Cleon shook his head. “Figured I should stop by my own house first and let Grace know I’m home.”
John gave the steering wheel a couple of taps. “There’s been some excitement in the area since you’ve been gone.”
“What kind of excitement—good or bad?”
“Afraid it’s not good. We had a pretty rough storm a few days ago, and Alma Wengerd was hit by a bolt of lightning.”
“I’m real sorry to hear that. Was she hurt bad?”
“She’s dead. Her funeral was today, although I didn’t attend. Since I’m not Amish and haven’t been in the community very long, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed.” John shook his head. “Your neighbor Ray Larson wasn’t there, either. I saw him at the pharmacy in Berlin not long ago.”
A chill ran up Cleon’s spine, and he shivered. Abe’s wife was dead—struck down in the prime of her life. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if something like that happened to Grace.
“You okay?” John asked, nudging Cleon’s arm. “You look kind of pale.”
Cleon popped a couple of knuckles and reached both hands around to rub the kinks in his neck. “I was thinking about Abe losing his wife like that. Must have been some shock for him.”
John nodded. “I heard he was the one to find her not far from the chicken coop where she’d gone to gather eggs.”
“How terrible. Abe’s got six kids, you know, and it won’t be easy for him to raise them on his own.”
“He’ll probably be looking for another wife soon. That’s what most Amish men do when they lose a mate, isn’t it?”
Cleon shrugged. “Some do; some don’t. All depends on the circumstances.”
Would I be looking for another wife if Grace died? Could anyone make me as happy as she does? How would I feel if Grace was taken from me before I had a chance to ask for her forgiveness?
When they turned onto the Hostettlers’ driveway, Cleon noticed a thick cloud of smoke hanging in the air. The acrid smell stung his nostrils, and when they began the climb to his driveway, he realized that his house was on fire. His spine went rigid, and his heart pounded.
Dear God, don’t let them be in there. Don’t let it be too late for us, please.
He turned to John. “Can you call the fire department for me?”
“Of course.” John fumbled in his shirt pocket and frowned. “Rats! Must have left my cell phone at home. I’ll go there now and make the call.”
Cleon opened the door, jumped out of the vehicle, and raced up the driveway. He spotted Grace’s horse and buggy parked nearby.
She must be home. She could even be in the house.
“Grace, where are you?”
Silence except for the crackle of flames shooting into the air.
“Anna! Anna, come back here! No, don’t go upstairs!”
Cleon halted. That was Grace’s voice coming from inside their house. Apparently Anna was there, too. His heart nearly stopped beating. If he lost Grace now, without making things right between them, he didn’t think he could go on living.
Noting that the fire seemed to be coming from the second story, where it shot out the bedroom windows and through the roof, Cleon pulled a quilt from the buggy, wet it in the horses’ watering trough, and threw it over his head. He jumped onto the porch, flung open the door, and raced inside.
Chapter 44
Rather than helping the other women serve the funeral dinner, Ruth decided it would be best to stay with Abe’s children, especially Esta, who had refused to eat anything.
“If you promise to eat a little something,” Ruth coaxed as she sat on a bench beside Esta, “then I’ll ask your daed if you can come over to our place tomorrow so you can see how my sister’s puppies are growing.” She smiled. “I’m sure Anna would enjoy having someone to play with, too.”
Esta stared up at Ruth, her dark eyes looking ever so serious and her long lashes sweeping across her cheeks with each steady blink. “You think Martha might let me have one of them hundlin?”
Ruth knew Martha had given Anna one of Heidi’s puppies, but that pup had died, and Martha was counting on getting paid for the other two she still hoped to sell. She took hold of Esta’s hand. “If they were my hundlin to give, I’d say, jah, but I’m pretty sure Martha’s planning to sell the others.”
Esta’s lower lip protruded. “I’ve got no money, and I’m sure Papa won’t give me none, neither. He always says we can buy only what we need.”
Ruth had some money saved up from her job, and she couldn’t think of a thing she needed it for right now. “I’ll tell you what, Esta,” she said, gently squeezing the little girl’s fingers, “If your daed says it’s okay, then I’ll buy you one of Heidi’s hundlin.”
Esta’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”
“Jah.”
“Okay.” Esta grabbed a sandwich off her plate and took a bite.
Ruth smiled and turned her attention to her own plate of food.
I hope I have a child as sweet as Esta some day.
After the meal, the men and women gathered in groups to visit, while the children and young people visited with friends. Since Esta seemed content to play with one of the other children who’d brought along her faceless doll, Ruth decided it was a good time to go off by herself for a while to think and pray.
As she wandered through the yard, heading for the stream near the back of Abe’s property, her thoughts went to Grace, who had taken Anna home some time ago. The sad expression on her sister’s face concerned Ruth, and she was sure it wasn’t only due to Alma’s death. Grace anguished over her strained marriage and worried about the assaults against their family over the last several months.
If there’s something I can do to help my sister deal with this, please show me how, Lord,
Ruth prayed as she dropped to a seat on the grass not far from the stream. She lifted her face to savor the warmth of the sun and closed her eyes.
And help me know what to do to help Esta and her brothers and sisters in the days ahead.