Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (37 page)

Chapter Four

G
reta waited for the man in the backseat to answer her. Humiliation burned deep in her chest. Her hopes that Morris had seen the error of his ways and had become a reformed man were nothing more than wishes in the wind. He hadn't changed. And now she was taking him to the one place where she and her sisters had been safe from his venom.

The young girl lying on the bench seat started to sit up, but the man stopped her. He moved his duffel bag from beside him to the floor. “Please, have a seat.”

“Danki.”
Greta maneuvered past his long legs. She sat beside him and pressed herself into the corner wishing she could sink through the seat and onto the pavement outside. She couldn't imagine what the other passengers must be thinking.

Baptized members of their faith were forbidden to have close contact with a shunned member. That this young man offered her a place beside him meant that he had not yet taken his vows. She crossed her arms tightly over her bag and made herself as small as possible. She should have spoken up. She should have refuted her uncle's claim, but years of remaining silent while Morris chastised her in front of others had fastened her tongue to the top of her mouth.

They wouldn't believe her, anyway. They would believe him. He was a man and an elder.

“Are you all right?” the young man beside her asked quietly.

She glanced his way and saw honest compassion in his expression. His small gesture of kindness brought tears to Greta's eyes. She nodded, too upset to speak.

She should have expected her uncle's rebuff, but after living with her loving grandfather in a happy home for the past eight months she had forgotten how easily her uncle could make her feel like dirt. All it took was a few distasteful words in his condescending voice to make her feel like an unwanted child again. She hadn't come nearly as far as she thought she had. If only she could be strong like Lizzie.

The driver got in. “Are we ready?”

A general murmur of consent was enough for him. “Okeydokey. I've been told that Mr. Barkman can't ride more than an hour without stopping. We will stop for lunch at a little place I know in Van Wert about an hour from now. Then, I'll drop the Coblentz family just south of there in Ohio City and we'll get back on the road to Hope Springs, Ohio. That's my plan. Mr. Barkman, are you doing okay?”

“No one cares so let's get going.”

The driver turned in his seat. “Sir, if you're not feeling well we should inform the hospital staff right away.”

“I'm good enough. I'd rather die on the road than go back inside this poor excuse for a hospital. Drive on.”

Arles shrugged. “All right. Mr. Yoder, is your sister doing okay?”

“She is,
danki.
”

“Good. We have one stop at the pharmacy to make and then we'll be on the road.”

They left the hospital behind, and Mr. Hooper maneuvered the van skillfully through the city traffic. He stopped at the pharmacy the nurse had suggested. Greta had to pass by everyone to get out of the van. She was aware of the covert looks cast her way but decided to ignore them. It was useless to protest now.

After she returned with her uncle's pills, Mr. Hooper soon had them out on the highway heading east. A few minutes later Greta's seatmate asked, “Do you have enough room?”

“Am I crowding you?” She scooted away from him another inch. She had been so wrapped up in her humiliation that she had failed to pay attention to her surroundings.

She glanced at the girl beside him. “Is your sister comfortable?”

“I think she's asleep.”

“Has she been sick long?”

“She was injured in a house fire two months ago. She suffered smoke inhalation and burns to her head and neck.”

“How terrible.”

“Her lungs were damaged by the smoke. She was on the ventilator for several weeks which is why her voice is so weak. God in His mercy saw fit to save her, and I'm grateful. I don't know what I would do without her.”

She heard the sadness in his voice. “A fire is such a terrible thing. Was anyone else in your family hurt?”

“My parents perished.”

“Oh, I'm very sorry.”

“Has your uncle been ill long?”

Greta looked out the window. “A few weeks. He had a heart attack. I will tell you because I know you are wondering and you have been kind. My sisters and I left our uncle's church here in Indiana under difficult circumstances. If the church placed us in the
Bann,
this is the first I have heard about it. We have been accepted into an Old Order congregation in Hope Springs, Ohio, where we live with our grandfather. I am a member of good standing in that community although I have not yet taken my vows.”

Morris had been listening. He turned in his seat. “Does your bishop know he harbors such an unchristian family of snakes to his bosom? Does he know your grandfather set his dog on me? I still have the scars. I will make it clear you are not fit to be members when I meet your bishop.”

Greta wanted to vanish. She wanted to crawl inside herself. She wasn't brave the way Lizzie was brave. What would Lizzie do? She would stand up to him. She wouldn't accept this humiliation.

No, she wouldn't.

Greta raised her chin. She wasn't bold, but she knew what Lizzie would say. “Bishop Zook knows our story well,
Onkel.
I think you are the one he will be keeping an eye on. But why are we talking about unchristian behavior? Forgiveness is God's command to us.”

Morris muttered something again, but Greta couldn't hear what it was. He turned his back on her. She clamped her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. She had spoken back to him for the first time in her life.

It was empowering to speak her mind. She didn't have to be bullied by him on this trip. No one here knew her or cared how she behaved. So what if they thought she was disrespectful. They didn't know the truth.

Greta glanced at Toby and found him watching her closely. She quickly looked down. She was not behaving as a humble maiden should. He must think her very brazen.

“Did your grandfather really sic the dog on your uncle?” The raspy whisper came from Toby's sister as she sat up. She held her bonnet pulled forward to cover the left side of her face.

Greta shook her head and whispered back, “No one set the dog on him.
Onkel
Morris doesn't like dogs and our dog, Duncan, didn't like him. Duncan thought he was protecting us.”

Marianne said, “Animals know if people are nice or not.”

Greta smiled. The child was so right. Leaning forward, Greta winked at her. “I agree. Duncan is an excellent judge of character.”

* * *

Toby watched in amazement as his sister smiled at their seatmate and giggled. It was a tiny gurgle more than a giggle, but it was the most emotion he'd seen from her since the fire.

A great weight lifted off his chest. Until this moment, he hadn't been aware of the pressure. The glimpse of the girl she used to be filled his heart with joy.

Had leaving the hospital triggered this improvement, or was it the infectious smile of their new traveling companion? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Either way, he was relieved to see this small sign of progress.

“My name is Greta Barkman,” she told his sister.

“I'm Marianne.”

“And I'm Toby Yoder,” he added.

“It's nice to meet you both. Do you have a dog, Marianne?” Greta asked.

His sister shook her head. Toby read the regret in the turned-down corners of her mouth. He said, “We may have to look into getting one.”

Marianne's eyes brightened, but then she shook her head and leaned away from him.

He said, “I know we won't be able to keep a dog at our aunt's house. She doesn't like dogs, but we'll have our own home again someday. When we do, we will get a dog. I promise.”

She sighed deeply but didn't say anything else. Greta sat back and turned to look out the window. It seemed her friendliness was reserved for his sister. After a few minutes, she opened her bag and pulled out a wooden hoop with a length of white fabric secured in it. Half the circle was filled with blue cross-stitched flowers. Deftly, she began creating another row.

He tried to focus on the passing scenery. It wasn't often he had the chance to ride in a car. It was amazing how quickly the farms and fields slipped behind them. Empty fields waiting for spring to bring back the green. Red barns and occasional blue road signs were the only bright colors besides the blue sky. Toby soon grew bored with the winter landscape and began watching Greta again.

She had her circle completed in no time. Loosening the hoop, she withdrew her fabric and replaced it with a fresh square from her bag. Marianne shifted on her seat, and he glanced her way. She was leaning forward to watch Greta work, too. It wasn't long before Greta noticed.

“Do you cross-stitch?”

Toby touched his chest. “Me? Sure.”

A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “It's an unusual pastime for a man.”

“I would call it a learning experience. I remember my first as if it were yesterday.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“He's doesn't know how,” Marianne whispered.

“That's what you think, little sister. Grandmother taught me to do it when I was your age.”

He could see Marianne didn't believe him. He had trouble keeping a straight face. “It's true. She made me sit in the corner and fill her hoop with one phrase over and over again. Her hoop was much bigger than yours, Greta.”

“And what was that phrase?” Greta asked.

“
I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie.
It took me four hours to finish it to her satisfaction. The lesson stuck.”

Greta chuckled. “I think I would like to meet your grandmother.”

“She lives with her widowed sister near Bird-in-Hand. You can ask her about the story. She'll tell you it's true.”

“I don't doubt you, but I was actually asking Marianne if she knew how to cross-stitch?”

“Do you?” He looked at his sister.

She shook her head.

“I'm sure Greta can show you how it's done.”

“I'd be delighted. It's easy. These are panels that will go down the center of a quilt my sisters and I are stitching.”

“Switch places with me.” He rose and let his sister slide across the seat to sit beside Greta. She was soon engrossed in Greta's instructions, leaving him free to watch both of them.

Within a few minutes, Marianne had the hoop and the needle and thread on her lap. “What if I make a mistake? I don't want to ruin it.”

“We all make mistakes. It would be a shame not to learn something new because you're afraid you won't get it right. Besides, you will not ruin it. I can easily undo the stitches.”

Marianne's efforts were tentative at first, but under Greta's gentle guidance, she soon grew more confident. She was actually talking, even if her voice was still a hoarse whisper. Toby was surprised when the driver turned off the highway into the parking lot of a small diner. Were they in Van Wert already? An hour had gone by very quickly.

Arles turned to address his passengers. “I'd like everyone to be back in the van in thirty minutes. That should give us all plenty of time to eat and walk about a little. Mr. Barkman, how are you doing?”

“Well enough. I don't imagine the food will be good at a place like this.”

“It's got to be better than the hospital food,” Toby said as he slipped into his coat.

The driver got out and came around to open the door. The Coblentz family piled out quickly. Morris stayed where he was so Toby got out next and held out his hand for his sister. She took it and stepped carefully onto the pavement. He was worried that this outing would be too much for her, but she seemed to be doing okay.

He moved back to let Greta out. She was about to step down when her uncle rose. His cane slid to the side between her feet. Greta tripped and fell headlong out of the van. Toby lunged to catch her.

Chapter Five

F
inding herself in Toby's arms took Greta's breath away. Strong and rock steady, he held her as if she weighed nothing at all. She gripped his shoulders to get her feet under her. The feel of his firm muscles beneath her fingers sent a rush of excitement through her veins. It tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she looked up at him.

Electricity seemed to shimmer between them like the glow of distant lightning. His dark brown eyes widened in surprise. Did he feel it, too? She couldn't tear her gaze away from his expressive face.

“Are you all right?” Marianne asked.

The child's whispery voice brought Greta back to the present. What was wrong with her? No man had ever had this effect on her.

She slowly withdrew from Toby's embrace. His cheeks blossomed with a dull red color. Was it her imagination, or was he reluctant to let her go?

He spoke to Morris. “You must be more careful.”

Morris pushed out of his seat. “It was an accident. What you want me to say?”

After stepping down from the van, he looked at the people who stood staring at him. He straightened and his frown deepened. “I said it was an accident.”

“I'm fine,
Onkel.
Do not you worry yourself about it,” Greta said quietly.

“He should say he's sorry,” Marianne muttered.

“And your parents should teach you not to disrespect your elders,” Morris grumbled.

Tears welled up in Marianne's eyes, and she pressed her face against Toby's side.

“Why she crying? What did I say?” Morris demanded. Everyone was still clustered around the side of the van.

Toby's face reflected his deep pain as he gazed at his sister. “Our parents were killed in a fire a few months ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. How was I to know? My doctor said I have to walk.” Morris shouldered his way through the onlookers and began walking along the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

“I should go with him in case he has trouble,” Greta said.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Toby offered.

She shook her head. “I'm sure Marianne would like a soda or a cup of tea.”

“All right. Can I order anything for you?”

“I would dearly love a cup of coffee.”

Greta took a seat on the bench out front where she could keep an eye on Morris. It was growing colder. A bank of gray clouds shut out the sun in the west. She buttoned the top buttons of her coat and pulled on her gloves. She was surprised when Marianne sat down beside her.

“Don't you want to go inside?” Greta asked.

“
Nee,
people stare at me.” Her voice was weaker than before. Greta could see how tired she was.

“In that case, please join me. I'm not really hungry, but I may have some dessert when my uncle is finished with his walk.”

She looked around for Toby and saw him waiting beside the door with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. She motioned toward the diner with her head. He nodded his understanding. She would watch over Marianne while he went in.

“What sorts of desserts do you like, Marianne?”

“Ice cream and pie. I hear a kitten. There it is.” Marianne pointed toward Morris.

A small calico cat was rubbing against his leg. He nudged it away with his cane, but the cat came back, stood on its hind legs and pawed at his trousers. It began meowing loudly.

“Your uncle must like cats.”

“As far as I know, he doesn't care for any living thing except himself.”

Greta bit her lip as she realized she shouldn't have spoken like that in front of the child. She shouldn't even have such thoughts. Her feelings about her uncle were hard to hide, but he was ill. He deserved some kindness although she wasn't sure she had any to offer.

Morris pushed the cat away and walked on. Greta glanced at Marianne. “I like ice cream, too. Chocolate is my favorite. But when it's cold outside like this I like pumpkin pie with whipped topping.”

Marianne pulled away and wrinkled her nose.

Greta laughed. Cupping her fingers under her chin, she tapped her cheek with one finger in mock concentration. “I think you are someone who likes coconut pie.”

Shaking her head, Marianne stuck out her tongue.

“Strawberry rhubarb?” Greta glanced toward her uncle, keeping one eye on him while she engaged Marianne in conversation. He bent to scratch the cat's head.

“Peach,” Marianne stated in a harsh whisper. Greta wasn't sure if it was the cold or fatigue, but the girl's voice was definitely weaker. She needed to rest it.

Just then, Toby returned bearing gifts. He held three foam cups in his hands. He set them on the end of the bench and passed them around. “Coffee for you, Greta, and hot chocolate for you, Marianne.”

“Danki.”
Greta took the beverage from him.

Marianne eagerly accepted hers. He sat down and took a sip from his cup. “Not bad.”

“Delicious,” Greta added. She glanced toward Morris. He was bent over. Was he talking to the cat? The animal paced back and forth in front of him still meowing.

Greta looked down at the drink in her hands as she tried to quell the bitterness that rose in her throat. He could treat a stray cat with kindness but not his own kin.

She focused on Toby. “Your sister was telling me that she likes peach pie. I have a friend whose husband loves peach pie. His name is Levi Beachy and he makes buggies in our town. What do you do, Toby?”

“I work at a factory that builds RVs in Fort Wayne, or I did until recently. Before that, our family lived in Pennsylvania. There, I was a wood-carver, but the shop where my father and I were employed closed and we couldn't find work. That's why we moved to Fort Wayne. I'm not sure what I will do now, but Marianne and I will figure that out together.”

He looked at his sister as she sipped her chocolate with relish, and he smiled softly. Toby was a kind and caring brother. It made Greta miss her sisters. She would love to have them here with her now.

The cat jumped in her lap scaring the wits out of her. She jerked in fright, sloshing hot coffee on her hand. The cat ran back to her uncle. Greta saw him leaning heavily on his cane and clutching his chest.

Greta dropped her drink and hurried toward him.

“Are you all right,
Onkel?
” she asked when she reached his side.

“Need my...pills.” He was fumbling at his vest pocket.

Greta quickly extracted a small vial. Her fingers trembled as she opened the lid and shook a pill into his hand. He put it under his tongue.

Toby slipped his arms around the old man's shoulders and behind his knees. He lifted him like a child, carried him to the bench and laid him down. Morris was breathing heavily. Toby looked at Greta. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Ja.”

“Nee.”
Morris shook his head. “It's better.”

“Are you sure?” She knelt in front of him.

He gave her a sour look. “You won't have to pay for my burial yet, Mouse.”

Greta took a deep breath and disguised her shame with a show of indifference. It was a skill she had learned well living with him. But Lizzie wouldn't let such a jab go unanswered. Greta narrowed her eyes. “That's good to know,
Onkel.
My expense account is woefully inadequate at the moment.”

That took him aback. It did her good to see his surprise. The mouse hadn't roared, but it squeaked.

Was there any way to reach him? To make him see how hurtful his words could be? Had he really tried to make her fall out of the van, or was it an accident as he claimed? She couldn't be sure.

When she and her sisters had lived with him, his abuse had been overt. A beating with a belt or with a wooden rod. That punishment wasn't available to him with so many people around. She didn't want to believe the worst of him, but she had never seen anything else.

“Help me up,” he said, reaching for her hand.

She hesitated. Why should she? Why had she even come?

A second later, she knew the answer as clearly as if God had spoken to her. She was here because it was the right thing to do. Returning evil for evil did no one any good. Taking his hand, she pulled him into a sitting position.

He sighed heavily. “I would like a cup of tea.”

She kept one hand under his elbow as he stood. Toby stayed close until she had Morris seated at a booth inside the diner. Toby and Marianne chose their own table and sat away from the group. Marianne sat next to the wall, sinking into the corner as if hiding from the world. Greta's heart went out to her.

Morris was watching them, too. “Why does she keep her hand at the side of her face all the time? Is she looking for attention?”

“I think she is self-conscious about the scars on her neck and face. She was burned in the house fire that killed her parents.”

“They aren't noticeable scars. She's vain.”

Compelled to defend the sweet child, Greta glared at her uncle. “To a girl that age they must seem enormous and ghastly. She deserves our kindness not our judgment.”

He turned his attention to the waitress and ordered tea. Greta ordered a cup of soup and a slice of peach pie.

Her uncle's color improved steadily. He soon seemed to be his old self. He complained that the tea was lukewarm and sent it back. Then he asked for a glass of ice because it arrived too hot to drink.

When he finished his tea, he rose and headed for the restrooms at the back of the diner. He stumbled and staggered sideways a step before regaining his balance and heading on. Greta caught Toby's eye. He nodded and then indicated his sister with a glance in her direction. Greta nodded, too. Toby rose to follow her uncle while Greta moved to sit with Marianne. It was amazing how easily they communicated with only a shared look. He wasn't like anyone she had met before. She quickly pushed her interest in him to the back of her mind.

Taking her uneaten pie as a pretense, she sat down at the same table with the child. “Would you like my pie? I don't have room for it.”

Marianne nodded. Greta pushed the dish toward her. She folded her hands and smiled. “I have always wanted to travel to Pennsylvania. Is it pretty?”

Marianne nodded again.

“Are you and your brother visiting family there?”

“We're going to live with my
aenti.
”

“You and your brother?”

“Ja.”

“I'm very sorry about your parents. My parents have gone to heaven, too, so I know your sadness. I miss them although I know they are happy with God. I'm not alone, though. I have three sisters and we all look out for each other the way your brother has been looking out for you on this trip. You are blessed that he was spared.”

Marianne didn't say anything, so Greta forged ahead. “It's hard to talk about the people we have lost, but you don't have to be afraid. You can tell me about it.”

“
Nee
, you will hate me.”

“We must never hate anyone, Marianne.” If only she could follow her own advice.

“It was my fault they died.” Marianne pushed the rest of the uneaten pie aside and got up from the table. She rushed outside leaving Greta to wonder exactly what had happened to the child's family.

After paying her bill, Greta went outside, too. The Coblentz family was already in the van. Greta got in and sat at the back with Marianne. The girl lay curled onto her side facing the back of the seat. Greta couldn't see her face. “I'm sorry if I upset you.”

The child ignored her. Greta chewed her lower lip. She had been trying to help but she may have made things worse. Morris and Toby came out of the restaurant a short time later. Mr. Hooper started the van as Toby climbed in behind Morris. A loud thunk from the engine and a cat's screech startled everyone.

Arles and Toby went to the front of the vehicle. Greta got out, and Marianne followed her.