Love Still Stands (31 page)

Thomas slid his plate away from him. “That was a mighty fine meal. I expect I’ll have
to wait until later for dessert when I have a little more room. Luke, would you take
a look at Annie’s horse? She says his front left shoe is loose or it has a rock in
it or something. He’s favoring it.”

“I’ll do it.” Josiah stood. “Being I’m the town blacksmith now and Luke hasn’t done
any shoeing in years.”

“No, let me do it.” Luke put all his big-brother authority into the words. “I need
a breath of fresh air and your sister has cake, which I know you could never pass
up.”

His expression confused, Josiah dropped back into his chair. He picked up his fork
and looked around as if seeking his cake.

Luke thrust back his chair and rose, thanking the good Lord for Thomas. Anything to
get out of this room. It wasn’t fair to Annie or Miriam or the rest of the folks who’d
been looking forward to this visit. Leah was spoiling it for everyone. How could she
be so selfish? Again, the anger burned hot and he tried to tap it down. She hadn’t
been herself in a long while.

Outside, he breathed the crisp night air greedily. He strode toward the corral.

“Slow down. That horse ain’t going nowhere.” His friend’s deep bass rumbled behind
him. “You’re running off like a pack of wild hogs is chasing after you.”

“Only my thoughts.”

Thomas caught up with one long stride. “Where’s Leah?”

“She left.”

“Go get her.”

“Is that best?”

“She’s your fraa.”

“I’m thinking she’s changed her mind about that.”

Thomas paused at the corral gate, his big hands on the metal railing. He didn’t speak
right away; he simply stared at the tree line in the distance. The silence stretched.
Luke wanted his friend to say something, anything, that would tell him what he should
do.

“Nee. Not Leah. Even if she wanted to do that, she never would.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It’s not about you.”

“I know.”

“What are you waiting for, then?”

For her to choose to come back. For her to want to come back. It had only been a few
hours, but his small, simple world had fractured. The farming landscape had tilted
so far to one side he might never be able to straighten it. “She left.”

“The folks in our community chose you to be a leader.”

“And you.”

“God chose you to be bishop.”

“What does that have to do with Leah?”

“Running away is her cry for help. Help her. You’re not only her husband, you’re her
spiritual leader. The community looks to you to set the example.”

“Truth is…” Luke cleared his throat. Thomas might be the one person in the world he
could tell, besides Leah. His fraa who had run away. “Truth is I don’t feel like a
leader.”

Thomas raised his face to the setting sun. His features were set in stern lines that
reminded Luke of his father. “It doesn’t matter how you feel. You are. You were chosen.”

“She wants to come back here to Bliss Creek. She doesn’t want me to be bishop. She
wants the life that we had back before my parents died. I can’t give her any of those
things.”

“Sounds like what she really wants is her husband’s attention.”

“So it’s my fault.” The anger surged again. Anger did him no good. He squashed it
back. “What is it that I’m doing wrong? Tell me that so I can fix it.”

“It’s not about laying blame. It’s about sewing up a wound so it can heal.”

Everything Thomas said rang true. Still, the thought of confronting Leah made Luke’s
stomach twist in knots. He liked their life. He liked the house and the farm in New
Hope. He’d even, truth be told, become accustomed to the idea of being bishop. Why
couldn’t she be happy?

“Stop twisting in the wind like an old shirt on a clothesline and go. I’ll tell Annie.
The boys are helping gather wood for the fireplace. It gets mighty cold after dark
these days.”

Thomas could be a pain sometimes.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“Godspeed.”

Luke trudged into the barn and saddled a horse. Not long after he was riding up the
dirt road to the Graber house. Half a dozen buggies dotted the yard. Plenty of visiting
going on here. He pulled up on the reins and took a steadying breath. Now that he’d
arrived, he couldn’t remember the speech he’d practiced on the road.

“That you, Luke?”

The voice of Leah’s daed came from the shadows on the porch. In his introspection,
Luke hadn’t noticed the big hulk of a man sprawled in a hickory rocker. The low rumble
with that touch of demand in it sent a shiver up his spine, just as it had when he’d
first started courting Leah. Uriah’s stare always seemed to go right through Luke.
He could never tell if the man approved or disapproved. Not even after Luke married
his oldest daughter. The man had limestone for a face.

“It’s me.”

“It’s about time. Get on up here and sit a bit.”

Luke did as he was told.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Your fraa’s in there fixing to spend the night with three of your kinner.”

“Jah.”

“So, again, I ask, what’s wrong with you?”

“I came to get her.” He offered that fact in hopes that it would appease, but knowing
Uriah as he did, Luke knew better. “She’s been under the weather and homesick. I figured
a little time to visit with her mudder would help.”

“We’ll visit plenty at the wedding and on Thanksgiving.”

“Jah.”

“I raised those girls right.”

“I know.”

“If she’s running away from being a fraa, you best set her straight.”

“Jah.”

“I done my part. Do yours.”

Luke clamped his mouth shut. He’d heard the stories from Leah about how she’d been
raised. Uriah was short on affection and long on discipline. He clung to the Ordnung.
Luke had no problem with that, but Uriah was one of those people who didn’t know how
to mix a love of rules with a love of people and find the right combination.

“Don’t get me wrong.” Uriah shifted and the rocking chair squeaked under his big body.
“I know she ain’t an easy woman to put up with. Always been real headstrong.”

“There’s where you’re wrong.” Luke couldn’t believe the words had escaped him. “Begging
your pardon. I found her easy to put up with for ten years.”

“All right, then. It takes a certain kind of man to control a fraa the likes of her.”

“Truth be told, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Nothing a firm hand won’t fix.”

“Jah.”

“I heard tell you’re the bishop of the new district.”

“Jah.”

“Never heard of a bishop who had fraa troubles.”

Neither had Luke. He’d never heard of many marriage problems, not in Bliss Creek anyway.
“She’s been under the weather. She’ll be fine.”

“If need be, I’ll send her back to you.”

“You’d put her out of your home?”

“She’s a grown woman with a husband and children. She knows her place. And it’s not
here.”

Luke prayed it wouldn’t come to that. “I best get in there and talk to her.”

Even as he stomped across the porch to the door, he felt Uriah’s disapproving stare
bore into his back.

Bethel stopped, wet bowl clutched in a soapy hand. Luke stood in the doorway, his
bulky frame filling it, blocking the light from the other room. Her brother-in-law
looked as if he’d rather be standing in any other kitchen in the country. She dipped
the bowl into the rinse water, gave it a good swish, and handed it to Mattie. “Luke,
you missed supper, but we have lots of dessert left. Mudder made fry pies and gingersnaps.”

“There’s plenty. Cherry pie too.” Mudder slid the plates into the water, making a
healthy splash. “And
kaffi
, if you have a hankering for it.”

“Where’s my fraa?” Luke’s voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat. “Uriah said
she was here.”

“She didn’t feel good.” Bethel wiped at her itchy nose with the back of her wet hand.
She felt hot and sweaty, even in November, and too tired to pick her words with care.
“She went to bed.”

“She didn’t help with the cleaning up?” Surprise mixed with concern on his face. He
looked worn around the edges, like a sturdy wagon beaten down by long, hard use. “What
was she thinking?”

“She was under the weather.”

“We talked about staying at our house—Annie’s house.” His gaze encompassed Bethel’s
brothers’ fraas. They looked as if they were curious and trying not to show it. They
weren’t succeeding. “She went off without…she didn’t say…Where are the twins and Jebediah?”

The other women in the room all seemed to be looking at Bethel, waiting. She shouldn’t
have to tell Luke. He knew. He and Leah had talked. They’d talked and then they’d
stopped talking. She’d endured the silent meals and the morose looks for weeks now.

Leah was his fraa. Leah was her sister.

She wiped her hands again, needlessly.

“Tell her to come down now.” His voice deepened into a hoarse command. “And she should
bring the kinner with her.”

Bethel couldn’t stand in the way of a man seeking his fraa. It wasn’t done. But the
bone weariness and the great sadness that had mingled on Leah’s face kept Bethel from
doing as he directed.

“Now.”

“Hold on.” Mudder stepped between Bethel and Luke. “Give her a good night’s sleep.
I’ll care for the babies so she can rest. They’re already asleep. Why wake them? Leah
will feel different at the other end of a good night’s sleep.”

“I want to take her back now.” He crossed his thick arms over his chest. “She’s my
fraa. Uriah agrees. She must come with me now.”

“She’s sick.” Bethel blurted it out before Mudder could acquiesce. “I…Luke, I talked
to the doctor where I go for therapy. She says there’s a name for what Leah has. It’s
called postpartum depression.”

Her mudder’s shocked intake of breath echoed in the silent room. Mattie stood with
a plate half submerged in the dishwater. Enos’s fraa dropped a fork. It clattered
on the counter. She grabbed it and two more fell to the floor. Seth and Robert’s fraas
dived to pick them up at the same time and bumped heads. Their simultaneous
ouches
were muffled by their hands over their mouths.

“You talked to a doctor about my fraa?” Luke’s skin darkened to an almost purple crimson.
“Without my say-so?”

“I’m sorry.” She hugged her arms to her chest, feeling as if the floor was shifting
under her feet. She’d been right to talk to Doctor Jasmine. She cared about her sister.
She wanted her to get better. “She’s so unhappy. Even for Leah, it’s not normal.”

“She needs time to get used to the new place. That’s all.”

“My therapist says she needs medication. To help her with the moods. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?’ Luke took off his hat and ran his fingers over the brim. “She’ll
run away from home? She has babies to tend to, a house, a husband.”

“It’s not something she can help. It’s her body. It’s physical.” A shiver ran through
her and her hands felt clammy with the embarrassment of this conversation. “Medicine
will help. Otherwise, after the baby comes, she could—”

“She could what? She’s a mother. She has five children already. She knows what’s expected.”

Nothing Bethel said would change the determined look on Luke’s face. She realized
now he could never understand. This was too far outside his world, where women had
babies every day and thanked God for the blessing. She didn’t dare tell him what the
doctor had said about women with this condition hurting themselves or even their babies.
That didn’t happen in his world. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not her fault.”

“I want her down here.”

“She’s already asleep.” Mudder looked up at Luke with a stern stare. “Give her tonight.
A good night’s sleep and she’ll be right as rain.”

Luke shook his head, looking like a big bear coming out of a long winter’s sleep.
Confused. Irritated. Not sure where he was. “Tomorrow, then. Uriah agrees with me.”