The Thorn (24 page)

"Just forget it." And all the way home, Rose wondered how soon before she would hear, through the grapevine, about Nick's misdeed in Quarryville today.

Even though he did it on account of me ...

Rose could kick herself for not watching where she was walking earlier - and falling like that! And she fumed at Nick's reaction to the scolding from Silas's father. Any other God-fearing Amishman would have said the same.

When they made the turn into Dat's driveway, she saw Hen's car parked near the back sidewalk, and something sank in her. She must've groaned inadvertently, because Nick asked if she was all right.

"Hen's here again." This can't be good!

"She must miss you."

Rose held her peace, not wanting to reveal her concern.

Nick was just as careful helping her out of the wagon as before, but this time she didn't wrap her arms around his neck, fearing she might give someone the wrong idea. Especially if Hen's watching ...

As Nick carried her past the car, she could see inside the front seat to her sister's overnight bag. It was the same one Hen had packed with forbidden cosmetics before she'd run off and married Brandon. Was Hen coming home to stay?

She stiffened as Nick made his way to the back porch.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Rose shook her head, not saying. Besides, Nick didn't need to know what she thought of Hen's being unequally yoked to an outsider. After all, Nick might actually find it comical, considering they were such good friends. . . and Nick wasn't a church member, either.

Hen heard the market wagon come rattling into the driveway, and Mattie Sue ran to the window. "Oh look, it's Auntie Rose!"

Mammi Sylvia stretched her neck to peer out. "That's odd. We thought she was comin' home on foot."

"Nick's there, too," said Mattie Sue, dashing to the back door to greet them.

"Ach, that boy." Mom shook her head. "You would think he wished we'd taken him in back when, 'stead of the bishop."

Mammi clucked and returned to her hand sewing. "Now, Emma."

"Well, isn't he round here more than my own sons?"

Hen stretched; she'd been feeling so mellow she might've fallen asleep right there. But she got up and went out to see Rose Ann, stopping at the screened-in porch. Mattie held the back door open for Nick, who was carrying Rose up the sidewalk, of all things. "What happened to you?" Hen exclaimed.

Rose's face pinked with embarrassment. "I fell and hurt my leg."

"Oh, you poor thing!" She followed Nick inside, where he set Rose Ann down slowly on the wooden bench next to the kitchen table.

Mattie Sue hovered near and reached to touch Rose's hand. "You gonna be all right, Auntie?" she asked worriedly.

"She took a bad tumble," Nick said, squatting down to Mattie Sue's eye level. "Hit her knee on a rock alongside the road." He looked altogether concerned while Rose explained how she'd fallen into the ditch.

"Simbel mir - silly me," Rose said. "I was watchin' a bird,'stead of looking where I was walking."

But it wasn't what her sister was saying that made Hen's inner antenna shoot straight up. Nick's expression was downright tender toward Rose as he lingered protectively, like he was her beau.

Hen shook off the inkling. Was she just imagining this?

Whatever the reason, something swelled within her, and she believed her return home was somehow meant to have a twofold purpose. Without delay, it was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with her sister.

The minute Rose saw Hen, she knew something was really wrong. Just the way her voice sounded all pinched up when she asked what had happened that Rose couldn't walk - her pretty face much too pale, too - Rose knew. Has my sister pushed her husband to the brink?

She didn't know why she mentally took Brandon's side on whatever had brought Hen here to visit again. Based on what Hen had shared with her last week, Rose had the terrible feeling that it was probably her sister's fault.

Now Hen was eyeing Nick, plainly displeased he was in the house, let alone helping Rose down onto the kitchen bench, then hovering near.

Hen quickly left the kitchen, taking Mattie Sue to the stable to see the twin foals. Her older brother josh was there and promised to watch over Mattie while Hen went to talk to their father. When she opened the door of the woodshop, the air was thick with sawdust. She coughed upon entering, unable to stop.

Her father looked up. "Hen ... for goodness' sake! I didn't expect to see you again this soon!" He stopped what he was doing and motioned her outside. "Can't have ya breathin' that dust into your lungs." He followed her, still wearing his protective mask.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked, walking with him toward the woodshed.

"For you? Plenty of time." His eyes were so bright and welcoming, it was hard not to recall the contrast in his countenance during the days before she had married Brandon. She'd seen great sadness there then, the reflection of her own betrayal.

They stepped inside the woodshed for a bit of shelter - he must've sensed her need for privacy.

"It's hard to know where to start," she said.

His eyes were serious. "What's goin' on, Hen?"

For Mattie's sake, she'd kept things all bottled up. And now as she opened her mouth to speak, she began to weep instead. "Oh, Dad.. ." She cried on his shoulder, wishing she'd never hurt him and Mom. Wishing she could help them understand, somehow, how bad she now felt about breaking their hearts. "I'm really sorry for everything...."

Awkwardly he slipped his arm around her - he didn't seem to know what to say.

Hen wept so hard, she was glad she hadn't worn mascara as she had for the past few years. She cried for all the days and nights she'd been away from her family and her rightful heritage. But most of all, she shed tears for her struggling marriage, even though the mess was her own doing. Brandon was not to be blamed for seducing her willing heart away from the confines of her former life. She'd eagerly let him do so.

She tried to wipe away her tears, and her dad shook out his old blue kerchief and handed it to her. "Careful, lest ya smear sawdust in your eyes," he said.

When she had pulled herself together, she told of her discussion with Brandon that morning. "He knows how miserable I am ... urged me to come home for a while."

"I 'spect he thinks you'll return to him soon, jah?"

She shook her head. "I doubt that." It was the hardest thing she'd ever admitted.

"Well, I certainly hope you will!"

She blew her nose. "I don't see how things can ever work between us now."

"What on earth is so different?"

"The world's pressing in on Mattie Sue ... and on me."

"So you can no longer submit to your husband's English ways. Is that it?"

Her eyes met his. "It's my fault ... jah."

"You're not thinking of movin' back home, are ya, Hen?"

"I know it must sound ridiculous." She dabbed at her swollen eyes.

Her father sighed. "It ain't right to leave your husband be, daughter."

Looking away, she said, "He wants us to visit him at home, but he refuses to come here."

"Will ya do things his way ... at least what you can?"

She listened and nodded.

"You must work hard to salvage your marriage, Hen. It's imperative under God."

How could she expect him to say differently? There was no point in telling him Brandon's warning about their daughter's custody. Too much at once.

"Would you mind if Mattie Sue and I stayed with you and Mom for a while?"

He glanced at the house. "Well, the two rooms upstairs are all we've got in the main house. There's the second Dawdi Haus, though. Would ya want to stay there?"

She struggled to speak. "It would mean ... so much. Thanks!"

He touched her elbow and led her back toward the big porch. "I'll have to speak with your mother and the bishop about all this, of course."

"I don't want to upset Mom." Then Hen added, "Sometime after you talk to the bishop, I'd like to speak with him - make a confession."

"Well, since you didn't join church, you were never shunned, ya know."

"I shunned my family, though. And the Lord, too." Each time she thought of her loving heavenly Father, Hen could hardly keep her tears in check. "I really want to offer my heartfelt apology to the bishop and his wife. And get his advice, as well."

Her father gave a faint smile as they made their way inside. "I'll let him know."

Glancing at the gloomy sky, Hen realized the enormous challenge that lay ahead of her ... a married worldly woman living here with a child from a union with a man the People had strongly opposed.

Hen had never anticipated that Rose Ann would burst into tears when she saw Dad and Nick moving Hen's and Mattie Sue's things into the cottagelike Dawdi Haus. It was hard to know if Rose's injured leg was partly to blame for her sorrowful outburst, or if her sister was truly heartbroken at what Hen's moving in signified.

Hen had been almost relieved to have to step away for a few hours to go to work at Rachel's Fabrics. She could not bear to stick around as Rose wept in the kitchen, her leg propped up on a chair. Why was her sister being overly dramatic? After all, her marriage wasn't at stake!

Now that Hen had returned and was unpacking in the small two-story house, around the corner from the main house, Mattie Sue sat on the floor in the middle of an oval rag rug, jabbering to her. She was talking about seeing the foals with Nick, who had let her follow him around the barn for part of that afternoon. Hen was surprised at how quickly she'd warmed up to him.

"I can sleep with my dollies here at Grandpa Sol's house, right, Mommy?" Mattie asked, suddenly looking more thoughtful.

"Of course." Hen went over and kissed her, pulling her close. "Give me a sweet hug," she said, cherishing the warmth of her little girl.

How long before she asks to see her daddy? Hen worried later as she set about arranging Mattie Sue's clothing into the empty drawers of the dresser in the smaller bedroom. And ... how long before I run back into Brandon's arms?

Swiftly she redirected her attention to making the already furnished house into a temporary home for them, realizing that she would have to become reaccustomed to the lack of electricity. More than a few times she'd already reached for the light switch, even though it was still light outside. And cooking like Mammi and Rose Ann did on a woodstove might prove to be tricky, although Hen guessed it was like anything else - the ability would return soon enough. With a certain amount of practice.

Hen heard a rapping at the back door and went down to see who was there. Nick, dressed in his usual black, offered to help carry anything more for her. She took the opportunity to thank him for keeping Mattie Sue company earlier, as well as hauling in their things.

"That's fine," he said, ducking his head. "And Mattie's no problem."

Mattie Sue grinned at him from her spot on the carpet.

Hen wanted to ask how he had come to be the one to bring Rose Ann back from the Amish doctor's, but she didn't need to pry. In all the years she'd known Nick, she must've said five words to him.

"They're askin' if you'll come over for supper," he said, looking at her, then shifting his eyes away.

"Sure, thanks."

He frowned then. "Not to poke my nose in," Nick muttered, "but why'd ya come back to ... ?" He shrugged and glanced over at the barn. "To all this?"

Nick was the last person to whom Hen owed an explanation. "It's complicated" was all she said.

"It wonders me, is all." He turned to leave.

You're not the only one, Hen thought, going back to resume her unpacking.

After Hen had helped her grandmother with the supper dishes, she assisted Rose Ann up the stairs and into bed. "You've been through the wringer today," she said, carefully placing a pillow under her sister's leg.

Rose disliked being made over and grumbled when Hen covered her with the small afghan from the foot of her bed. "No need to baby me, Hen." She said it with a forced smile.

Hen ignored her. "Did the doctor say how long he thought it would be before your knee is strong again?"

Tucking the afghan beneath her chin, Rose shivered a little. "Not sure what's wrong with me. My leg has a fever in it and I'm chilled all over." She struggled deeper under the blankets. "Old Eli says I'm s'posed to stay off my leg for a full twenty-four hours."