Holding a Tender Heart (13 page)

Ida and Verna looked at each other.

“Don't look so shocked,” Lois told them. “You knew this was coming.”

“But you're not serious,” Verna chided. “You've said things like this before.”

“I mean it this time,” Lois said.

“Then you'd better tell
Daett
and not us,” Verna said. “I won't believe you until that happens.”

“Oh, I'll tell him…eventually,” Lois said, a bit more subdued.

“Uh huh,” Verna said. “Well, I won't be holding my breath.”

When they reached the Watson house, Debbie greeted them at the door. “What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you, and certainly not all three sisters. How delightful!”

“We came down right after we found out,” Verna said. “
Daett
said you're welcome to move in whenever you want to.”

“This is great news!” Debbie said, her face glowing. “What an answer to prayer for me. I was hoping your dad would let me know before too long.”

“When are you coming?” Lois asked.

Debbie thought for a moment. “I guess that depends on you. I don't want to barge in. You might need time to adjust.”

“We'll clean my room at once, from top to bottom!” Lois declared. “And then I'm moving into the guest bedroom. You'll have my room—the best bedroom in the whole house.”

“I wouldn't think of that!” Debbie objected. “I'm pushing no one out of her room.”

“But you're not pushing me out,” Lois said. “Of course, if you prefer, you could move in with me. My bedroom is large enough for two. Wouldn't that be even more
wunderbah
?”

“You would do that for me…really?” Debbie appeared thrilled.

“Of course! We'll be like real sisters. Almost like we grew up together.”

Verna snuck a glance at Ida's face as Debbie and Lois hugged each other. Ida appeared pleased. Debbie was clearly an answer to all of their prayers. She would be a stabilizing influence in their lives, especially for Lois. Truly
Daett
had made a wise choice.

Debbie waved them inside. “I declare! All of you must come in and celebrate with a glass of orange juice.”

“Are your parents at home?” Verna spoke up. “We might disturb them.”

“They're eating out tonight,” Debbie said. “I have the house to myself. This is such a night to remember!”

Lois led the way inside and seated herself at the kitchen table. Verna and Ida followed. Verna smiled as Debbie poured glasses of orange juice from a paper carton. It was sweet to the taste and almost like what they pressed from ripe oranges at home.

Debbie seemed to read her mind. “Just think, Verna, soon I won't be using paper cartons. I'll have the
real
thing.”

Verna beamed. “
Yah
, and we are very glad to have you.”

Eleven

O
n Sunday night after the hymn singing, Verna stood in the soft glow of the buggy lights as Joe tied his horse to the hitching post at the Beiler house. All the way home she'd struggled to hold a cheerful thread of conversation. The dread of what she had to tell Joe was heavy to carry. Their conversation had been pleasant enough—all about the nice week of weather and the spring crops growing in the fields. Joe had been pleased with the size of the first cutting of hay. “It'll be our best in a long time,” he said. “
Daett
thinks we'll save plenty on feed costs come winter.”

Apparently she'd done well with her responses…or perhaps Joe didn't know her that well. Either of her sisters would have asked long ago what was bothering her.

“Ready to go inside?” Joe asked, causing Verna to flinch. Joe laughed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“I'm a little jumpy tonight,” Verna said.

Joe didn't say anything to this, but he looked toward the barn as they walked to the house. Finally he said, “Your
daett
and Emery really keep things up well around here.”

“
Yah
, I suppose so.” Verna held open the front door.

“With him being a bishop and all,” Joe continued, “seems like
that would take up plenty of time in itself.” He walked into the house and hung his hat on a wall hook by the door.

“It does.” Verna closed the door behind them. Right now she didn't want to think about
Daett
's bishop duties or about what she had to tell Joe. But she couldn't avoid it forever. She motioned with her hand toward the couch. “Have a seat. I'll be right back.”

His smile never dimmed as she left him. Joe expected shoofly pie again, she was sure. And a full pie sat on the kitchen table. But she wouldn't be able to get a bite down herself, nor did she think she could sit on the couch and smile while Joe ate. She couldn't feed a man and stab him afterward. Better the truth first. They could make up afterward because she was sure this wouldn't go well. The throb of her heart was all the proof she needed of that.

Verna gathered herself together and slipped back into the living room.

Joe looked up. The surprised expression on his face grew as he took in her empty hands.

“I'm sorry, Joe,” she whispered. “I have something that needs saying first, and then I have shoofly pie in the kitchen…and ice cream also, if you want it.”

His surprise changed to alarm. “Verna, what is it?” He moved closer.

She kept her gaze on the floor. “
Daett
found out about your driving of the
Englisha
vehicles at the auction in Belleville. Deacon Mast will be over next Saturday to ask for your confession at church.
Daett
suggested you make the trip over to Deacon Mast's place first.”

She took a quick glance at his face. It was dark and troubled.

His voice trembled as he accused her. “You told your
Daett
what I told you, Verna? That was said to you in confidence!”

She tried to take in a deep breath. “
Nee
, Joe.
Daett
found out from someone else.”

“But who would say such a thing?”

“I don't know. Really, I don't.
Daett
doesn't tell us much about such church matters.”

“Your
daett
must be better at keeping things to himself than his daughter is then.”

Verna flinched at the bite in his voice. “Surely you don't think that I…”

“What else am I to think?” Joe cut in, his face reflecting hurt and anger. “It's hard to imagine anything else, Verna. Perhaps you let it slip somehow. Or you asked your
daett
his opinion of a man who would do such a thing. Are you worried about my character, Verna? Is that what it is?”

Joe had risen, and Verna rose to. She almost grabbed his hands, but remembered she had no such privileges. This was only her second time home with him. Oh, why had she even opened her mouth? Perhaps there was an easier way to handle this. Her voice sounded shrill in her ears. “Joe, please! It's not like that at all.
Daett
found out from someone else, and I don't know who it was.”

He clearly wasn't convinced. He took a step toward the front door.

Verna followed. “Don't doubt me, Joe! I hated to tell you. But I thought it would be much worse if you found out later that I knew about this and didn't tell you.”

He stared at her and then grabbed his hat from the hook. “I had hoped for better things between us, Verna. I'm sorry, but I trusted you and you betrayed that trust. No one else knew about my driving at the auction. I've told no one but you.” Joe let the words hang as he walked out the door.

Verna rushed outside on the porch and followed his dark form with her gaze. He crossed the lawn and untied his horse. What had gone wrong? What had she said to make things this bad? Not in her worst imagination had Joe left without a chance to talk things out.

Joe's buggy lights came on as he swung it around in a tight turn in the driveway. Verna heard him say “Get up!” and Isaiah took off. She didn't move until they were out of sight. Her feet seemed frozen to the porch floor. The slight spring breeze that blew across her face felt like a winter blast in January.

This couldn't be her fault. It simply couldn't. What had Joe said? Something about expecting better things between them. Had this been the quarrel with Rosy? Had Rosy spilled confidences about him? It must be that. Nothing else made the least bit of sense. And now Joe was gone. She wanted to cry and run into the night after him. She wanted to find him, hold on to the buggy lines, and beg him to return. But none of that was possible. Joe had left, and she was a twenty-four-year-old without prospects again. Now no man would come within a mile of the house on a Sunday night. Not after this news leaked into the community…this tale of a bishop's daughter who tattled on her boyfriend to keep him in line. What man would desire such a woman for his
frau
? No man would desire a bishop for a father-in-law who would haunt every waking minute of his life.

Verna moved off the porch and took small steps across the yard. Where she was going, she had no idea. Away from the house for a while…and away from people. Away from the pain wracking her chest. But there could be no escape from that no matter where she walked. She passed the barn, its silhouette stark against the star-filled sky. She glanced over her shoulder and paused at the sight of the full moon on the horizon. Its glow flooded the sky and would soon fill the dark fields with soft light. She kept walking. Open fields stretched out in front of her for miles, dotted with the occasional shadows of homesteads. Debbie's place had a single light on in an upstairs window. Its electric haze flooded onto the lawn. A sob caught in Verna's throat, and she headed in the other direction. Soon she found her way along the path that led to the back pastures. “Dear
Hah
,” she prayed out loud as her eyes swept the starry heavens, “somehow You have to help me. All of us really.
Daett
is so burdened with his church work it's almost like he's forgotten how to trust people. Yet what do I know about anything? I'm still young, but I feel so old. What am I going to do if this misunderstanding with Joe can't be solved? And what hope is there of clearing it up?
Joe wouldn't listen to me. I don't how to speak with a man, so what use would it be for me to try again?”

With slow steps she moved further away from the buildings. She allowed the pain inside to overwhelm her. Better to have a breakdown out here where no one could hear her than inside the house. Verna jumped when the sound of flapping wings burst from the fencerow, and a dark shadow flew across the fields. A nighthawk—perfectly harmless—but still she walked away from the fence. In the distance the forms of the horses came into focus as the first of the moon's rays crept across the field.

Verna watched until the moon had risen high enough that the shadows of the horses moved when they did as they grazed. Joe would be leaving about now if things had gone as they should have. She should turn back. Perhaps a good night's sleep would help—if she could sleep at all. Tomorrow morning would be here before long, whether she wished for it or not. Life would go on.
Mamm
would be up before dawn to begin the Monday wash, and she would expect all of them to perform their regular chores. Only the most severe of sorrows interrupted that flow, and Verna knew this was not one of those.

In fact, she should be ashamed of herself. Many a girl had her boyfriend walk out on her. Some of them with longer relationships than she had with Joe. Hadn't Joe experienced rejection by Rosy after they'd dated for two years? She should take that into consideration. Perhaps his heart hadn't yet fully healed. Was he distrustful of women now because of Rosy?

Verna walked back toward the house with the moonlight in her face. Her steps quickened the closer she came. She opened the washroom door and slipped in. She tried to cross the kitchen floor without noise. Still
Mamm
's bedroom door squeaked open as Verna blew out the kerosene lamp in the living room. Her
mamm
's form appeared.

“Verna, is that you?”