The Amish Doll: Amish Knitting Novel (Bonus Knitting Pattern Included) (4 page)

Joshua looked at her and tried to smile, but his eyes were full of grief. Moved with compassion, she took his hand and held it.
When she realized what she did, she squeezed his hand and smiled at him, and then nervously put her hands in her lap.

“
Danki
, Raven, for everything. You have a caring heart.”

She grinned. “Most people don’t thank me for driving them anywhere; usually they complain that I drive too fast,” she said, heat rising in her cheeks. “A caring heart, though? No one’s told me that in a long time.”

“Maybe they don’t see the real you. When I first met you a few weeks ago, you seemed, well, mean, but then I realized you were in pain.”

She tried to compose herself. Why did she feel like she could talk to Joshua? Why did she feel like crying? Raven felt him take her hand. “Was the English world hard for you?”

“English world?”

“Non-Amish,” he said.

She pursed her lips. “Yes, it was hard.” Her breath caught in her throat, and a sensation she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl welled up in her. It was like coming up for air after being submerged in water. She thought of her grandma holding her hand in a tender way, and now she found it in Joshua’s. “I’m s-sorry. This is a hard time for you. I’m so selfish.”

Joshua squeezed her hand tighter, as if trying to give her strength. “You’re not selfish…”

The door opened and Rueben came in with a team of nurses, his face solemn. “They’re taking her to surgery. She needs emergency dialysis.”

Raven watched as Joshua got up and embraced his father and both sobbed. Soon they took Susanna out and Rueben sat down, putting his handkerchief in his pocket. He looked over at her. “Susanna’s more afraid of dialysis than the transplant. We were hoping to avoid it.”

“She’ll be okay, though, right? I mean, lots of people are on dialysis,” Raven said, leaning forward.

Rueben forced a smile. “
Jah
, it will keep her alive, until we find a live donor or a cadaver comes in. Many of the people are getting tested, and it’s a comfort.” Tears welled in his eyes and he cleared his throat. “Raven, I’ll be staying the night here. You and Joshua can go home.”

“I’m staying too,” Joshua said. “We can get someone to do the chores in the morning.”

“How will we get word to them?”

Joshua turned to Raven. “Do you remember where my Aunt Hannah lives? The one who gave us ice cream? Can you tell her we need help?”

“I can do it,” she said. “I’ve done chores on a farm before.”

Joshua’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure? You’ve hand-milked a cow?”

“We had a cow on my grandparents’ little farm. Is your cow friendly to strangers, though?”

“
Jah
, just pet her first and talk to her a little. Then pet her sides so the cow’s milk let’s down.”

She knew exactly what to do and put up her hand. “I can manage.”

Raven lit the lantern and headed out to the barn. The lantern let out more light than she thought imaginable. She saw the black and white cow, and hanging up the lantern, she pet her nose and talked to her. “I feel like Anne of Green Gables today. She was an orphan and didn’t have any love, but I think I’m starting to feel loved again.”

When she knew the cow was calm, she took the three legged stool that sat next to her. Taking the wet cloth she’d brought, Raven wiped down the cows udder and then pet down her side so the milk would release. She soon heard the squirting of liquid on the bottom of the tin pail. Memories of her childhood flooded her mind, her Aunt Brook. She favored her children and never expected them to milk the cow they shared on the farm. Her grandmother told the other grandkids to take a turn and be fair, but somehow Raven always milked the cow, even in the dead of winter. Her grandfather took the days it was below zero. Sometimes he’d slip her a dollar for her milking efforts, if she promised not to tell anyone. Why did Aunt Brook rule the roost?

When her grandparents died, the chores became harder and she remembered feeling hungry, but she wasn’t to tell anyone. Her Uncle Ram secretly gave her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She remembered sitting in the attic eating sandwiches while she heard her cousins laugh around the dinner table. Soon memories overwhelmed her. The guidance counselor didn’t let her go home after school because there were bruises on her arms. A knot twisted deep in her stomach. How could she forget? She was taken from the home because of abuse.

Deep within her, where pain had been rooted for years, it rushed up and she doubled over and screamed. “How could she?” Raven felt the hot tears on her cheeks. Shaking uncontrollably, she wailed as she held her stomach. “Why God?” she screamed. “Why?”  She went to the stack of hay and buried her face in it, trying to stifle the screams, to no avail. Her Uncle Ram was not kind to bring her peanut butter sandwiches. He was cruel. He allowed her to be locked in the attic, hours upon lonely hours. She could taste the stale bread and old crystalized peanut butter sandwiches he brought, and screamed all the more.

She felt like jumping out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see an Amish man. His eyes held such sorrow. “Is Susanna gone?” he asked.

Raven swiped at tears running down her cheeks, and willed herself to calm down.  “Susanna’s alive. She’s in the hospital.”

He looked at her with penetrating green eyes. “I’m a neighbor. I heard the screaming and thought that…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I took Susanna to the hospital and she’ll need dialysis. She’s in surgery now to get her ready for it,” she said, as another sob caught in her throat. Embarrassed, Raven looked sheepishly into the Amish man’s eyes. He took off his black wool
hat and she realized it was Eb. He was so kind and empathetic when he wasn’t drunk.

“Would you like me to finish milking the cow? I know how to do everything in this barn.”

She looked at him and nodded. “Thank you.”

~*~

Raven stood while looking across the living room at Marilyn. “The boys missed me for morning prayers?” she asked. “I’m surprised.” Collapsing into one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room, she rubbed her temples. “Any word about Susanna?”

Marilyn sat in the chair next to her. “Jim left for the hospital this morning. I’ve been pacing the floor all morning, but still no word.”

“But I thought Jim was sick.”

Concern etched Marilyn’s face. “Can’t hold the old fool down. He’ll catch his death yet.”

“At least the boys won’t be able to dunk him at the Fall Festival this weekend.”

“Ha,” Marilyn said. “He’ll do it anyhow. He feels he needs to always keep his word to the boys.”

“He’s really dedicated to them; that’s for sure.”

“Well, he didn’t really have parents. He really did sell apples on the streets of Jamestown. The Great Depression robbed him of dreams.” She sat in the chair opposite Raven. “I tease him about selling apples, but he knows I’m only trying to change the subject to these happier days.” She sighed. “He had a full scholarship to college, but couldn’t take it since he had to work. When he talks of apples, I start talking about Appleton.”

“Is there a connection?” Raven asked.

Marilyn grinned. “I came up with the name. After hearing Jim moan about selling tons of apples, I came up with Appleton.  Get it? Apple? Ton? Life can give us lemons, like they say, but we need to make lemonade, right? So Jim started this place to help boys get what he never had: a stable home and a chance at their dreams.”

Raven was flabbergasted. Jim had a hard life, but he seemed so happy. Someone in his shoes might be bitter. “How about you Marilyn? How did the Depression affect you?”

Marilyn’s eyes grew misty. “Well, I worked hard, too. Farm work. Never liked it, but we lived off the land. Some days we just had thick broth to eat. We didn’t have electricity or indoor plumbing. We were almost Amish,” she mused.

“What did you want to do instead?” Raven leaned forward in curiosity.

“Be a seamstress, like my mom,” she quipped. “I was a little girl when the Depression started, and Mom made extra money by making clothes. She was so good; women came to the little shop she made in our living room.”

“So what kept you from learning to sew?”

“Knitting,” Marilyn snarled. “The circular needles just came out and Mom taught me at six how to make a sock.” She sighed. “The government promoted knitting as a way to boost morale. So knitting magazines with patterns in them were cheap. My sisters and I had to knit if we weren’t doing school work. “

“What did you make?”

“Winter things living here. Lots of sweaters, scarves, gloves. But I also crocheted, and learned to make lace that Mom put on dresses. Then when World War II started, I knit for the troops. After the war, I threw my needles out and have never knitted since.”

“But it’s so calming.”

“Not when you have to do it. Oh, it was fun knitting in a group, gossiping though.”

Raven leaned closer. “I see the craft store in town has a knitting circle. Want to go?”

Marilyn put both hands up. “No thank you. My knitting days are over.” She turned to Raven. “I’m sorry. You’re new here in town. Do you want someone to go with?”

“No, I don’t mind going alone. But, I have so much to do to settle in. Maybe I’ll try it when the weather gets really bad.”

Marilyn pat Raven’s knee and said she needed to stir the pot of soup she had on the stove. Raven thought of what comfort knitting was to her, but it seemed like a curse to Marilyn. All a matter of perspective, she’d learned in counseling, sure was true in this case. Knitting had kept her sane.

~*~

She went to her bedroom, exhausted, but her mind raced. She hadn’t thought of her Aunt Brook and some of the foster homes she’d been in for years. She hadn’t remembered being taken from her home and put in a strange place.  Raven thought of her Amish doll her grandmother gave her. The only thing she took along with her small wardrobe.

She picked up her knitting needles, working on another scarf. The boys would all have scarves for Christmas. But she felt like crying again, so she did. It was part exhaustion. Sleeping on the wooden bench in the Yoder’s living room kept her up half the night. How kind Eb was to come and check on her.  She’d have to thank him for all he did, not only milking the cow, but collecting eggs and tending to the other animals. How could such a nice man be shunned?

Raven looked at the rich brown tones of the yarn, and decided right there that the scarf belonged to Eb. She had to be careful, though. Knitting was at times too calming, and she might fall asleep. I need to greet the boys when they get home and help them with homework. 

~*~

Raven opened her eyes with a start; someone was pounding on her bedroom door. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Jim. Sorry if I woke you but you have a visitor.”

Raven looked out the window and saw twilight. She spun her head around to look at the clock, 6:16. She missed greeting the boys when they got home. I fell asleep knitting again!  “I’ll be out in a minute,” she said. She took her comb and ran it through the thick mass of curls, put on a sweater, and went out to see who had come to visit.

When she got to the bottom of the steps the boys gathered around her, asking her if she was okay.  They said they had prayed for her in case she was sick. How they warmed her heart. She looked over at the front door and saw Joshua leaning against the wall with one arm. He looked kind as usual, but concern was on his face. His mom must be gravely ill. “How are you Joshua? How’s your mom?”

“Ach, she’s fine. Will come home tomorrow.” His brows furrowed. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. Want to go on a buggy ride?”

She felt famished, but maybe he needed to tell her they were pulling out of the foster program. “I’d love to.”

“Better take a coat,” Bud said. “It gets chilly when it’s dark.”

“
Ya
, it’ll snow soon,” Timmy said. “We always get a foot of snow on Halloween.”

They were so concerned for her, and she was here to care for them. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll get my jacket.”

Raven retrieved her jean jacket from her bedroom and then ran downstairs once more. She felt Joshua’s eyes heavy on her, and shyness flooded her.  He led her out to the buggy and took her hand as she stepped inside. It was a closed buggy that was charming. Raven heard him make a clicking noise and the horse was off.  They headed down Main Street and passed the Town Square before he spoke.

“Eb told me what happened last night.”

She looked down. “Told you what?”

“You were crying so hard you couldn’t milk the cow. He came over because he heard screaming. Are you okay?”

A familiar sense of shame swept over her, making her speechless. Why would he care?

He slowed the buggy to a stop on the side of the road and jumped down and went behind the buggy. She looked behind to see he was turning on battery operated lights. Then he turned the set on in the front of the buggy.  He had a handsome profile, a strong jawline like his father and with a small turned up nose like his mom.  He looked at her thoughtfully when he got into the buggy but she still couldn’t talk. “God could save us from trauma, but instead he sends us a Comforter.” That’s my favorite Amish proverb. It’s helped me get through my mom’s illness.  God can comfort like no other human can, but I’d like to help you.”

There it was again. Talk about God and his comfort. It was in the chapter she was reading in the Bible: She was well acquainted with the wall she was about to put up, but for some reason, she found it harder to do with Joshua. Raven looked forward, trying to ignore him. She wanted to tell him a lie, like the cow kicked her and she screamed. That she’d never really milked a cow and was afraid, but instead she felt her chin quiver. She quickly put her hand to her mouth to hide it, and she felt tears as she gasped for air. She felt Joshua’s arm around her. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m here to listen if you want to talk.”

Her throat hurt, trying to swallow her pain. She felt Joshua’s arm withdraw from her and she soon heard the clip clop of the horse’s hoofs and the rhythm calmed her. Raven looked out of the buggy at the fields full of wheat. Some of it was drying in piles stacked like tee pees. She felt rude being so silent, and tried to find her voice. She heard an owl hoot. Surely she could speak up, too. “I was raised on a farm on the Indian Reservation in Salamanca. When I milked the cow, it brought back bad memories.”

Joshua didn’t say anything, just nodded his head for her to go on. She wasn’t used to sharing her feelings, but for some reason she felt safe. “The reason I was put in a foster home was abuse. My Aunt Brook never liked me, and after my grandparents died, there was no one to protect me from her.”

Joshua took her hand. “I’m sorry, Raven,” he said. “Foster children are blessed to have you work with them. You weren’t protected and now you’re making sure other children are.”

She looked into his blue eyes, and found she could see herself more clearly in them. They were like deep pools of water that brought refreshment. She felt accepted by him … unconditionally. And he knew her; deep down she wanted to make sure other children would be protected. She couldn’t look away from him and wanted to tell him more, but he turned his head and let go of her hand. “I better get you back to Appleton.”