Wayne stared out the window of their English driver’s van, watching the scenery go by and noting that many of the trees had dropped their leaves. It had been six weeks since he’d lost his leg, and this morning, he’d been given a new leg. The doctor had told him that the sooner he started to feel like the prosthesis was a part of him, the sooner he’d be able to adjust to the stride in his steps. He’d given Wayne instructions on how to attach the new leg, and then Wayne had been forced to take several agonizing steps between some parallel bars. He’d left the hospital with a pair of crutches, which he would use for support until he got used to walking with the new leg.
As Wayne stepped out of the van a short time later, he wobbled and gritted his teeth. Walking with his new prosthesis was no easy task.
“I’ll probably never adjust to the artificial leg,” he mumbled as Pop grabbed hold of his arm.
“Sure you will,” Pop said. “Just give yourself some time.”
“Would you prefer to ride up to the house in your wheelchair rather than trying to walk?” Mom asked.
Wayne shook his head and gritted his teeth. “I’ve got to get used to walking with this, so I may as well begin now.”
As soon as they entered the house, Mom pulled out a chair for Wayne. “You can sit here and rest while I get a pot of coffee going,” she said, motioning to the kitchen table.
“I don’t want any coffee,” he mumbled.
“You look tired. Why don’t you go to your room and rest awhile? I’ll call you when I get lunch on the table.”
Irritation welled in Wayne’s soul. She was doing it again—smothering him. Truth was, he did feel pretty tired and was experiencing some pain. “Guess I’ll go to the living room,” he said. “I can rest on the sofa there.” He hobbled out of the room before Mom said anything more.
“You need to quit smothering him,” Crist said after Wayne left the room.
Ada pursed her lips and glared at him. “How many times are you going to tell me that?”
“As many times as it takes.” Crist helped himself to a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. “If our son’s ever going to adjust to his new leg, then he’ll need to learn to do things on his own, and he doesn’t need your suggestions.”
Ada frowned. “I just wish—”
“Don’t start with the wishing, now. All the wishing in the world won’t change a thing. That young lamb Wayne’s been taking care of for the last few weeks had to learn to adapt to its handicap, and Wayne’s trying to do the same.”
“Have you talked to him any more about becoming a taxidermist?”
He shook his head. “He knows the offer’s open. I don’t want to push him into something he’d rather not do.”
“But he’s got to do something. I mean, he can’t spend the rest of his life taking care of a crippled sheep and feeling sorry for himself.”
“I’m sure he won’t—as long as we allow him to make his own decisions. Remember, it’s his life, not ours, Ada.”
Ada fiddled with the napkin beside her cup, finally crumpling it into a tight little ball. If she could have her way, she’d somehow make sure that Fern Bontrager was in Wayne’s future. But she knew that wasn’t possible, so she’d have to be happy taking care of Wayne for the rest of her life.
“Have you decided yet whether you’re going to stay in Indiana and join the church?” Jake’s mother asked him during their evening meal.
Jake gave a noncommittal shrug and poked his fork into a thick slice of ham.
“Your mamm asked you a question, and I think she deserves an answer,” Dad spoke up from his seat at the head of the table. “For that matter, I’d like to hear the answer to that question myself.”
Jake chewed the piece of ham, then looked over at Mom. “I haven’t made up my mind yet what I’m gonna do. I just know I’m where I’m supposed to be right now.”
“You’re right about that,” Dad said with a nod. “And if you want my opinion, you should never have left home in the first place.”
Jake ground his teeth. Not another lecture from Dad. Since he’d returned to Indiana, he’d had too many of them already.
“Jake’s only hanging around because he’s in love with Loraine,” Elmer spoke up. “If she gets back with Wayne, he’ll leave home again; you’ll see that I’m right about that.”
Jake glared at his twelve-year-old brother. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
Elmer took a drink and set the glass down so hard that some of the milk spilled out. “Do not. I just know you, that’s all. When you set your sights on somethin’, you go right after it and don’t stop till you’ve got what you want.” He swiped his tongue over his lip. “And when you don’t get what you want, you run away.”
Jake shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. When I went to Montana, it had nothing to do with me not getting something I wanted.”
“Are you sure about that? As I recall, you wanted to quit shoeing horses and expected me to loan you the money to buy a herd of horses.” Dad leaned his elbows on the table and stared at Jake so hard it made his toes curl inside his boots. “When I said if you wanted to start your own business you’d have to save up the money and do it on your own, you headed for Montana to play cowboy with a bunch of English fellows.”
“That was different,” Jake said in his own defense. “I knew I could make money quicker working at the horse ranch there than I could shoeing horses here.”
Mom touched Jake’s arm. “But you promised you’d be back, and you said you’d keep in touch.” Her voice quivered, and she blinked a couple of times. “You didn’t keep either of those promises.”
“How’d that make you feel, Jake?” Dad asked. “Didn’t you care that your family missed you and were worried because you didn’t write or call?”
Jake’s face heated up. “We’ve been through all this before, and I said I was sorry for not keeping in touch. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“We could if we had a guarantee that you were gonna stay here and join the church,” Dad said.
“There are no guarantees in this world. That’s evident by what happened to my friends when their van ran off the road and hit a pole.”
“Can’t we talk about somethin’ else?” Jake’s sister Marilyn spoke up. “All this arguing is making my stomach hurt.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you from eating in peace!” Jake pushed his chair aside and stood.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked.
“Outside to be with the horses!”
“But you haven’t finished your meal.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” Jake plunked his hat on his head and hurried out the door. He had some serious thinking to do.
Loraine’s bare feet tingled as she hurried across the haystrewn floor of their barn. There stood Jake leaning against one of the horse’s stalls, a tender smile on his handsome face.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured. “I’ve been hoping you’d come.”
Jake tipped his head and stared at her with such intensity that her toes curled. “I’m here forever and always.” He reached for her hand and pressed it against his chest. “I promise never to leave you again, Loraine. I’ve always loved you, and I was a fool to leave the way I did. Will you please forgive me?”
Loraine’s pulse hammered in her head. She tried to speak but couldn’t get the words past the lump in her throat. How could she not forgive Jake? It wasn’t right to carry a grudge.
Jake slipped his arms around Loraine’s waist and held her so close that she could hear the steady beating of his heart.
She smiled, feeling all the tension in her body melt away. It felt right to be with Jake. He made her feel, not think.
His thumb stroked the top of her head with deliberate slowness, and her skin tingled with each light touch.
The barn door creaked open and slammed shut, shattering the pleasant moment.
“I should have known I’d find the two of you together! I’m so disappointed in you, Loraine.”
Loraine pulled away from Jake and whirled around. Wayne hobbled toward them, shaking his head. “You’d rather be with him than me; isn’t that right?”
Loraine opened her mouth to reply, but only a wordless squeak came out.
“I was a fool for believing you loved me.” Wayne’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Jake. “I thought you were my friend, but I was so wrong about that. Guess I was wrong about everything.”
Stunned, and confused, Loraine waited for Jake’s response. She could almost feel the sparks between the two men.
“You had your chance,” Jake said, taking a step forward. “You pushed Loraine away because you lost your leg, and now she’s with me.”
Wayne’s face turned bright red as rivulets of sweat beaded on his forehead. “I’ve changed my mind. Loraine belongs with me, and I want her back!”
Jake pulled Loraine to his side. “I think we should let her decide which one of us she wants.”
Wayne’s piercing eyes seemed to bore a hole right through her. “Who do you choose, Loraine?”
She looked at Jake, then back at Wayne, her heart beating furiously. Suddenly, her head jerked forward, as though she was a rag doll, and she toppled to the floor....
Loraine’s eyes snapped open. As the dim morning light filtered through the window, she lay on her bed, trying to shake off the dream that had left her sheets drenched with sweat.
“I love you, Loraine,”
she heard Jake’s voice through the mist of her memory.
It had only been a dream, but it was a revelation. The thought that she might be in love with two men terrified her. How could she feel this way? How could she have allowed it to happen?
Loraine clambered out of bed and padded over to the window. She opened it quickly and drew in a couple of deep breaths. The only thing she knew for sure was that she couldn’t let either Jake or Wayne know how she felt.
“You look awfully
mied
this morning,” Mom said when Loraine entered the kitchen. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“I am tired. I had a bad dream, and it woke me up.” Loraine yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I couldn’t get back to sleep after that.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Do you remember what the dream was about?”
“It’s ... uh ... kind of vague.” Loraine reached for her choring apron. She didn’t want to talk about her conflicting emotions or the disconcerting dream she’d had—especially not with her mother. It would only bring about more questions—questions she wasn’t ready to answer, questions she had no answers to.
“What would you like me to do to help with breakfast?” Loraine asked.
“Why don’t you set the table while I keep an eye on the oatmeal cooking on the stove?”
“Okay.” Loraine opened a drawer and took out the silverware.
“So you can’t remember any of your dream?”
Loraine grimaced. Apparently Mom wasn’t going to let this subject drop. “It was about Wayne.”
At least part of it was.
“Oh, I see.” Mom took a box of brown sugar down from the cupboard. “Wasn’t he supposed to get his prosthesis yesterday?”
Loraine nodded. “I think I might drop by there on my way to work this morning. I’d like to see how he’s doing.”
“Oh, Loraine, do you think that’s really a good idea? Wayne did ask you not to go over there anymore.”
Loraine didn’t need that reminder—especially when she knew how Mom felt about Wayne’s handicap and the pensive mood he’d been in since the accident. “I don’t think he’ll mind if I check on him,” she said. “I just need to be careful what I say while I’m there.”
“Because he’s moody, you mean?”
Loraine replied with a shrug.
“Have you seen Jake lately?” Mom asked suddenly.
Loraine’s face flamed. Did Mom suspect she might have some feelings for Jake? Not that Loraine was sure what those feelings were at this point.
She pulled three plates from the cupboard and placed them on the table. “I saw him for a few minutes the other day.”
Mom smiled. “I always did like Jake. He seems so easygoing and is always full of humor and so polite.”
Loraine couldn’t argue with that, but then up until the accident, Wayne had been easygoing, full of humor, and polite, too. It was like he’d undergone a complete personality change.
“Is Jake planning to stay in Indiana and join the church?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know what his plans are.” Loraine took out some juice glasses and set them on the table.
But I do know that if Wayne and I don’t get back together soon, I might succumb to Jake’s attentions.
“Could you come in here a minute?” Pop asked as Wayne hobbled past the taxidermy shop.
With a muffled grunt, Wayne stepped into the room. “Did you need something?”
“Jah, I need another pair of hands.”
Wayne shuffled over to the workbench where Pop sat on a wooden stool. He’d help because Pop asked, but he really didn’t want to. “What exactly do you need help with?”
Pop motioned to a deer hide stretched out on the bench. “I could use your assistance slipping this onto the molded form that’ll become the deer’s body.”
“Can’t you do it without my help? You’ve done deer bodies before, right?”
“Jah, but this one’s bigger than most.”
“Okay.” Wayne sighed. He took a seat on the other stool, resigned to the fact that he was going to have to help Pop whether he liked it or not.
Pop handed Wayne one end of the hide, and he noticed how soft and pliable it felt. As they worked together getting it stretched over the mold, Wayne decided to ask a question.
“I’ve been wondering about something.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you give up farming and open this business because you thought I couldn’t plow and plant anymore?”
Pop’s face turned red as a radish. “That was part of the reason, but I really do enjoy this kind of work and have always wished I could do it full-time.” He motioned to the deer hide. “For me, taxidermy work is a lot more enjoyable than farming ever was.”
“Guess I never realized you were unhappy being a farmer.”
“Oh, I wasn’t, really. I just like this a whole lot more.” Pop nudged Wayne’s arm. “And you know what else?”
“What’s that?”
“It wasn’t so easy for us to visit when we were out in the fields. I rather like spending time with you like this.”
“I enjoy spending time with you, too.” Truth was, Wayne would rather be with Pop all day than spend five minutes in the same room with Mom. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. He just couldn’t deal with her constant hovering. It seemed that she was either trying to do everything for him or telling him what to do. It was enough to keep him on edge.
Pop picked up a pair of glass eyes that would be used in the deer’s head. “These little things remind me of a joke I heard the other day.”
“What was it?”
Pop scratched the side of his head and blinked. “You know—I can’t remember it now.”
“Don’t let Mom hear you say that. She’s likely to start accusing you of being forgetful.”
Pop chuckled. “She already has—many times, in fact. And speaking of your mamm, our anniversary’s coming up soon. I’ve been thinkin’ I might like to take her on a trip to Sarasota.”
“That’s a good idea. Mom’s been kind of edgy lately. A trip to Sarasota might be good for her.” Wayne shifted on the stool, trying to find a comfortable position, and studied the deer hide. “Loraine’s cousin Katie has been dealing with depression and fearful thoughts, and from what I hear, it’s changed her disposition. That’s the reason her folks sent her to Sarasota. They’re hoping when she comes home she’ll be her old self again.”
“If going to Sarasota would change your mamm’s disposition, I think I’d move us there permanently.”
Wayne’s head came up. “Would you want to live in Florida?”
“Not really. I like it here in Indiana.” Pop gave Wayne’s arm a light tap. “Don’t worry, son. If we go to Sarasota, we’ll only be gone a week or so.”
“Who’s going to Sarasota?” Mom asked, sticking her head into the room.
“You and me—for our anniversary.” Pop grinned like a boy with a new toy. “What do you think of that idea, huh, Ada?”
Her lips compressed tightly as she stepped into the room. “There’s no way we can go to Sarasota right now. I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing!”
Pop raked his fingers through the ends of his beard. “Why not?”
Mom motioned to Wayne. “Our son just came home with his new leg, and you’re asking why not?”
“I’ll be fine on my own while you’re gone,” Wayne was quick to say. He wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t want to stand in the way of his folks taking a trip for their anniversary.
Mom shook her head so hard the ribbon ties on her head covering whipped around her face and into her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of running off to Florida and leaving you here alone.” She flipped the ribbons to the back of her neck. “What if you needed something? What if—”
“You’re smothering him, Ada.” Pop frowned. “Can’t you see that you’re doing it again?”
She smacked her hand against her hip with a grunt and glared at him. “I’m not smothering him. I just think it’s too soon for him to be at home by himself.”
“I don’t agree. He’s got to learn to be independent and do things on his own. He’ll never do that as long as you’re hovering around trying to do everything for him.”
“But I’m his mother, and I think—”
Unwilling to listen to any more of his parent’s disagreement, Wayne grabbed his crutches and made his way quickly out the door. Once outside, he drew in a couple of deep breaths to help steady his nerves. It was bad enough that he had to deal with his handicap and Mom’s smothering. Did he have to deal with his folks’ bickering, too? Ever since the accident, his nerves had been frazzled, and listening to Mom and Pop arguing set his teeth on edge.
Guess I’ll head over to the barn and check on Tripod,
he decided.
That ought to help calm me down.
Wayne was halfway there when he noticed a horse and buggy coming up the driveway. He recognized it right away: it was Loraine’s. He clenched his fingers until his nails dug into his palms.
What’s she doing here? I thought I told her not to come. This isn’t doing either of us any good.
He moved over to the hitching rail, and when her rig approached, he secured the horse for her. Maybe she had a good reason for being here. Maybe it had nothing to do with him.
“Wie geht’s?” Loraine asked when she stepped down from the buggy. Her voice was sweeter than a bird calling to its mate.
“As well as can be expected, I guess.” Wayne’s heart pounded when she smiled at him, and that bothered him a lot. How was he ever going to let her go if she kept coming over here all the time, looking at him with such a sweet expression?
Loraine’s gaze moved from Wayne’s face to the pant leg that hid his artificial limb. “It looks like you got your new leg.”
“Jah. Got it yesterday.” Wayne lifted the end of one crutch. “I’m still pretty unsteady on my feet, so I’ll be using these for a while, I guess.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” She offered him another sweet smile, and his heartbeat picked up speed. He missed that smile. Missed their long talks. Missed going places with her. If only things could be different for him. If he just hadn’t lost his leg.
“You look like you’re in pain,” Loraine said. “Would it help if we sat down?”
“I took something for the pain when I ate breakfast, so I’m doing okay.” Wayne motioned to the barn. “I was heading in there to check on my lamb.”
“Oh, how’s she doing?”
“Would you like to go in with me and see for yourself?”
She nodded. “I can’t stay very long, though. I’m on my way to work and don’t want to be late.”
“I understand.” Wayne sucked in his breath. He understood why she couldn’t stay long. What he didn’t understand was why he’d invited her into the barn. How was he ever going to sever the ties between them if he kept weakening like this? He’d have to be on his guard from now on. He couldn’t let her think there was even a chance of them getting back together.
Wayne entered the barn and led the way over to the stall where he kept Tripod during the night.
Loraine stepped up beside him and gasped. “Ach, that poor little thing! How does she manage to hobble around on three legs?”
“She just does. Tripod has a very determined spirit.”
“But how’s she ever going to make it with the other sheep in the pasture?”
“I guess she’ll make it the same way I will—one step at a time.”
Her forehead creased. “Do you really think she’ll adjust to walking with only three legs?”
He grunted. “She’s got two more’n me.”
“That’s true, but you have your prosthesis now, and that’s going to help you get around much better than being in a wheelchair all the time.”
“Maybe so.” Wayne motioned to a bale of straw. “Should we sit a few minutes?”
When she nodded, he leaned his crutches against the stall door and lowered himself down, being careful not to lose his balance. It was bad enough Loraine had to see him limping around with a pair of crutches. He didn’t want to make a complete fool of himself in front of her.
They sat quietly, watching Tripod bump around in her stall and nibble on the hay in her feeding trough. It was hard to come up with anything to say. What did they really have to talk about anymore? Wayne’s missing leg? The pain medicine he’d been forced to take? How miserable he felt because they couldn’t be together?
He gazed up at the beams overhead and pondered it some more. In the days before the accident, he and Loraine had always had plenty to say to each other. They used to talk about their future—who they’d invite to their wedding, who they’d ask to be their main attendants, how many children they might have. Even when they didn’t talk—just sat quietly watching a sunset or took a walk to the pond—there had been a sense of peace between them. Now, everything seemed tense and unnatural, like they were just going through the motions of visiting with one another.
“Have you heard from Katie or Jolene lately?” Wayne thought to ask.
“I got another note from Jolene the other day, but Katie hasn’t answered any of my letters.”
“Guess some folks just don’t like to write.”
“I’m afraid with Katie it’s a lot more than that.” Loraine leaned her head against the barn wall and sighed. “When Katie’s mamm came home from Sarasota, she said Katie had been shying away from riding in a car. She also doesn’t want to go out—not even for shopping—and the only time she speaks is when she’s asked a question. I’m concerned that if she doesn’t snap out of it soon, she might never be the same.”
“I guess that’s possible.” Wayne grabbed a piece of straw and snapped it in two. “I know I’ll never be the same.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I hope what I said about Katie didn’t upset you. I’m sorry for your loss, Wayne, really I am.”
“Jah, well, I don’t need your pity.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that—”
Ma-a-a! Ma-a-a!
Wayne jerked his attention back to Tripod. The poor little critter had somehow managed to get one of her back feet stuck between a loose board and the wall in her stall.
“Guess I’d better see about getting Tripod set free from that board that’s holding her captive.” Wayne rose to his feet, and forgetting to use his crutches, he headed for the stall. He’d only made it halfway there when he stumbled and fell flat on the floor.
Loraine rushed forward. “Ach, Wayne! Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine. Just lost my balance is all.”
She bent down and placed her hands around his waist. “Here, let me help you up.”
Wayne shrugged her hands away as his face heated up. “I’m fine. I can manage on my own.” Gritting his teeth and using the wall for support, he rose, wobbled, and fell back down.
Loraine rushed forward again. This time he swallowed his pride and allowed her to help him. With Loraine’s assistance, he made it over to the stall.
“If you have no objections, I’ll try to get the lamb’s leg free,” she said, looking up at him with compassion on her face.