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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

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BOOK: The Harvest of Grace
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Thirty-Three

With the morning and early afternoon chores done, Sylvia made her way to the cabin. Birds sang, and the wind rustled the thick canopy overhead. After the heavy machinery the EPA had brought in had droned on and on for two weeks, they’d finished earlier today and were finally gone. Now only gentle sounds echoed in her ears.

While the laborers ran various types of equipment, she’d put up with the noise and odors of modern-day progress, though it had taxed her nerves until she barely recognized herself. But now that the work was done, she hoped to feel more like herself within a day or two.

The job had taken much longer than expected, mostly because the list of necessary improvements kept growing as the men worked. New fences were built on each side of the creek, a huge open drainpipe that ran from one side of the creek to the other was set in place, and concrete had been poured to secure the pipe. The rains forced the men to run double rows of silt fences on both sides of the creek as well. When the fields dried and the freshly seeded earth yielded grass, the cows would use the newly constructed concrete-and-earthen bridge to get from one part of the pasture to the other. For now a temporary barrier was in place to keep the cows off the fresh seeding.

She went inside the cabin and spotted a sink full of dishes. She never could figure out how that happened when she ate most of her meals in the Blanks’ kitchen. It’d be nice if Cara came by for another language lesson. Sylvia needed the distraction and the friendship. But no one—not Cara, Aaron, or Michael and Dora—could fill the void that missing her sisters left inside her. Some days she felt their absence more acutely than others, and she was having that kind of day.

She shuddered and bit back tears. Busyness was the answer, so she went into the wash house at the far end of the cabin. Since it had been raining so much, she had mounds of laundry that needed to be washed and hung out to dry.

While sorting clothes, she heard the familiar sound of a rig—either going up the Blanks’ driveway toward their farmhouse or coming down the much smaller path to the cabin. For a brief moment she imagined it was Aaron coming for a visit, but she knew better. He didn’t drive a rig to her place except on church Sundays and sometimes on a weekend night when asking her to go for a ride. Besides that, she’d not seen much of him in the last couple of weeks. He’d been spending long days with the EPA workers.

It could be Cara.

A pounding on her front door made her stop sorting laundry and leave the wash house. She entered her kitchen, craning her neck to see who stood at her screen door.

Beckie!

Sylvia’s heart stopped, and she was rooted to the floor. Her sister’s face was somber. Did she know what had happened with Elam?

Beckie spotted her and broke into a smile. “Sylvia.” She flung open the door and ran to her. “Oh, I did find the right place, and I made it all on my own. Can you believe it?” Beckie swamped her in a hug.

Sylvia breathed in the aroma of her little sister, wanting to wrap her arms around her, but her body wouldn’t budge. “How …”

“I’m fine.” Beckie took a step back. “Let’s look at you.” She brushed a few stray hairs from Sylvia’s face. “Still the same, aren’t you? Your hair always needs a fresh combing and pinning midway through your workday, but do you ever redo it?”

Sylvia pulled away from her. “Would you care for something to drink? A glass of water?”

“What’s going on? You don’t seem the least bit happy to see me.”

Sylvia put her hands on her sister’s shoulders, trying to look pleased. “I … I’m just surprised.”

“You should be. I mean,
me
taking on something like this by myself? You always told me I could do whatever I set my mind to. I never believed you until today.”

Sylvia managed an encouraging smile, but hypocrisy stuck in her throat. “How about that drink now?”

“Ach, ya. Denki. It’s so hot today.”

They went into the kitchen. Sylvia grabbed a glass and moved to the refrigerator.

“Looks like you’ve had lots of rain of late,” Beckie said.

“Ya.” Sylvia handed her the cold water.

“Kumm.” Beckie took her hand and led her to the living room. “Tell me about this place and what’s so great about it that caused you to leave your sisters.”

Sylvia’s palms sweated. “It was time for me to go.”

“Well, I’m sure we wore you out. Everyone down with whooping cough except you and Elam.” Beckie took several long sips of her drink. “But surely you’re ready to come home by now.”

Plagued with guilt, Sylvia rose. “You had a long drive. I should water and feed your horse.” She headed for the door.

“Oh, Shady can wait.” Beckie followed her outside.

The horse frothed, and sweat soaked his body. “Oh, Beckie. Look at him. He’s been in this August heat on black pavement for hours.”

Beckie growled. “You drive me nuts, always thinking of the animals first.”

Sylvia chafed. If Beckie had any good sense, she’d have waited a month for cooler weather or made arrangements to get a fresh horse at a midway point. There were Amish folks along the way who’d have gladly met that need. “Beckie, I’ll just be a few minutes taking care of Shady. I’m sure you need a little time to freshen up and rest.”

“I guess … but I made this trip to visit with you.”

Sylvia could barely think. How was she supposed to have a conversation with her sister? She envisioned her guilt being tattooed across her face. “What about?”

Beckie frowned, looking confused and amused. “Have you been here so long that you’ve forgotten we need no subject to talk on? We just get started, and it stops when one of us falls asleep. But I do want to talk about your coming back home.”

“Falls asleep? Are you … staying?”

“Of course, silly. I brought my overnight bag. Remember when we used to pack our bags to spend the night in a homemade tent in the kitchen?”

Overnight bag?
Sylvia jerked open the door to the carriage.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” Beckie giggled.

As if Sylvia’s world had slowed to the pace of cold molasses, she removed the bag from the carriage and passed it to Beckie. Her sister had a set of very active twins at home, and she intended to spend the night away? Sylvia looked at the bulging sides of the bag, wondering how long Beckie intended to stay.

Her eyes flashed with excitement. “I’m so proud of myself for making it here. I kept asking Elam to bring me, but you know what he’s like. When he wants something, there’s no stopping him, and when he’s not interested, there’s no motivating him. He simply tuned me out. When I said I’d go by myself, he kept coming up with reasons I shouldn’t make the trip. But here I am.”

A dozen memories of Beckie as a little blond-haired, blue-eyed girl all excited about birthdays or having tea with their dolls ran through Sylvia’s mind. No one lit up a room like Beckie.

Sweat spattered when Sylvia patted Shady. “The barn is a little ways from here, so I’ll be a few minutes. The rest room is in the hallway to your right, and there’s stuff for sandwiches in the pantry and refrigerator.”

Beckie smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, revealing a bulge. She smiled radiantly. “I might doze off. The little one and I have had quite an amazing day.”

Without another word Sylvia took the horse by the reins and began walking. She wished Aaron was there to talk soothingly to her and to keep her company until she felt her strength return, just as he had that day she fell in the field. But he was somewhere along the fence line, double-checking things, taking notes, and looking for any scraps of barbed wire.

Beckie waved. “Hurry back. We have so much to talk about.”

Sylvia wanted to beg God to help her keep the awful secret. Beckie was a long way from home and expecting. Sylvia had to make the visit pleasant. Her inability to lie, even through silence, was poor and part of the reason she’d fled the Fisher farm as quickly as she could after the incident with Elam.

Her mind racing, she led the horse into the equine section of the calving barn. Hoping she’d catch a glimpse of Aaron, she watched for him while removing the rigging, walking Shady some more, and wiping him down. But what could Aaron say other than she had to get through the visit?

The horse’s rib cage continued to expand and contract in quick succession. Sylvia feared she might walk into the barn tomorrow and find the poor creature dead from heart failure. After giving him small portions of feed and water, she promised she’d return to give him more within the hour. She had no choice but to go back to the cabin.

Walking down the main driveway, she saw Trevor driving toward the farmhouse. He must have come early for the afternoon feeding. They exchanged waves.

The lane back to the cabin had never been so short. When she walked inside, Beckie was stretched out on the couch. She moved her arm from resting over her eyes. “This cabin sits off all by itself, surrounded by a patch of woods. I could never get any sleep in a place like this. Do you share it with someone?” Her sister sounded relaxed, as if maybe she’d dozed off.

“No.”

Beckie sat upright.

Sylvia tried to steady her nerves. Maybe she needed to stay busy. She went to the kitchen sink.

Beckie followed her and leaned against the counter mere inches away. “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”

Sylvia poured dish detergent into the sink and turned on the faucet, wishing she could drown out her guilt. “I’m fine.”

“Elam said I shouldn’t come.” Beckie reached over and turned off the water. “I was so mad at you when you left. I know you came to help a man hold on to his farm, but how could you leave us like we didn’t matter? And why didn’t you write? I don’t care if Daed was angry that you left and forbade you to write the girls. I have my own mailbox. He would have never known.”

Beckie was always keenly aware of what she felt and wanted, but she seemed unable to imagine what others might feel or need. Hadn’t Sylvia remained by her side as a faithful sister while Beckie and Elam married and had babies? But Sylvia’s difficulties because of that situation never seemed to bother Beckie at all.

Sylvia turned on the water again. “I’ve been busy. When I left home, this farm was struggling, and my only help was a man with health issues.” If she couldn’t get Beckie out of here soon, that would be the first of a hundred white lies she’d tell before this visit was over.

Beckie put her hands on Sylvia’s shoulders and faced her squarely. “But there’s more help here now, right? Aaron Blank?”

Some of Sylvia’s ability to think returned to her. Who’d given Beckie directions to the farm? Their Daed had come only halfway, so he couldn’t have written directions for her.

And who told Beckie about Aaron’s return? Had Michael given up on keeping the farm and contacted her sister in hopes of encouraging Sylvia to return home?

Sylvia gently pulled away from her sister’s grip, turned off the faucet, and plunged her hands into the soapy water. “If you intend to spend your visit trying to convince me to come home, I’ll go fetch a driver for you now. We have one on site, and I’ll pay the fee myself.”

Beckie looked stung by the sharp words. “Why would you rather live like this than on our farm, surrounded by a family who loves you? Daed does, you know. He’s angry that you chose to go elsewhere to work, but he loves you.”

He wouldn’t love her if he knew what she’d done. None of them would.

“I need you to let this go, Beckie.” Sylvia jerked her dripping hands out of the sink, dried them on her black apron, and went into the wash house. She attached a hose to the mud sink and laid it in the wringer washer. Nothing was as noisy in an Amish home as the diesel-powered air compressor that ran the wringer washer. She flipped the switch, bringing the machine to a roar.

Beckie came to the door. “Sylvia!”

“I’m not coming home.”

“And what will you do when these people don’t need you anymore?” Beckie shouted above the racket.

“I’ll find another farm that does.”

“You think Daed’s going to allow that?”

Sylvia tossed dirty dresses and aprons into the tub, and it jerked them in tiny movements one way and then the other—much like her insides felt.

Right now she didn’t care what her Daed would allow. She was twenty-six years old and not a member of the Amish church. The only power he had over her was whatever she chose to give him.

Beckie skirted around Sylvia and turned off the machine. Immediate silence fell.

“For months since you left, Daed has hinted that I asked too much of you. That I relied on you constantly. I didn’t want to believe him, so I tried getting by without anyone’s help. All I managed to do was prove him right.” She exhaled, deflating like a balloon. “It got so bad that Elam called his sister. She’s living with us now, and it’s awful. If I promise to do better and let you have a life of your own, will you come back? Please?”

Brackish water sat in the machine full of still-dirty clothes. “No.” Sylvia turned off the hose and withdrew it from the washer. “For once, Beckie, respect my answer and drop it.”

“I have to know why! Do you hate me that much?” Beckie stomped her foot, and tears fell from her eyes.

Anger swept through Sylvia and caught her in its rushing current. “Because I refuse to be stuck in a barn alone with your husband ever again! Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Sylvia’s own words didn’t register until she saw the horror on her sister’s face. Beckie took a few steps back, stumbling over a pile of clothing. Sylvia grabbed her to keep her from falling.

When Beckie regained her footing, she jerked free. “What are you saying?”

Tears burned Sylvia’s eyes, and she couldn’t mutter one word. What had she done?

Beckie shook her. “Tell me what happened!”

“I’m sorry, Beckie. We never meant.” She wiped her tears and drew a breath. “We kissed.”

“You kissed my husband?”

Sylvia lowered her head, unable to admit it a second time.

“Wh-what? No! When did this happen? I trusted you!”

“No you didn’t. You
needed
me.”

BOOK: The Harvest of Grace
12.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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