A Hand to Hold (15 page)

Will started to grunt, spurring Deborah to get up and take him out of the crib. She changed his diaper and carried him out of the bedroom. Maybe Naomi might let her help with the meal this morning, although she doubted it. Over the past two days she had offered to help out so many times she lost track, but each time her sister refused. Naomi had staked the house as her domain.

As she made her way downstairs, sadness seeped into her. Her aunt was leaving today. The only person Deborah could talk to about her mother. Her father had been subdued since the funeral, saying very little and retiring early. Deborah was worried about him, but she didn’t know what to do. The only person who didn’t seem affected by everything was her sister. Naomi hadn’t even mentioned their mother one time.

The scent of bacon frying made her belly grumble. Naomi had already started breakfast without her. Deborah sighed. She wondered if their relationship would ever be repaired.

But when she walked into the kitchen, it wasn’t Naomi standing at the stove.
“Aenti?”

Sadie turned around, both hands covered in quilted oven mitts, one hand holding a spatula. Her wardrobe was more subdued than usual: a white pair of pedal pushers topped with a bright pink T-shirt that said
Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional
. She wore a turquoise kerchief on her head, but Deborah didn’t know if she was sporting it as a fashion accessory or in deference to staying in an Amish home. “Good morning, sunshine!” A bright smile formed on her red lips.

Deborah frowned, suspicious. “What’s going on,
Aenti
?”

Sadie’s curled black lashes batted up and down. “Nothing, dear. How would you like your eggs? Overly sunny-side, or hard up?”

“What?”

“I meant sunny-side up or overly hard. Or is it overly easy?”

“Maybe scrambled would be easier.” She took a slice of homemade bread from the plate on the table, tore it into pieces, and put them on a paper napkin in front of Will. He started stuffing the bits into his mouth. “I can make breakfast,
Aenti
.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Sadie put her oven-mitt-covered hand on one ample hip. “I might only cook once a decade, but I can handle this myself. It’s only eggs and bacon. How hard can they be?”

“The bacon’s burning.”

Sniffing the air, Sadie whirled around. Deborah moved beside her, spotting four pieces of black, shriveled meat in a frying pan of smoking grease.

“Dear heavens.” Sadie fumbled with the knob on the gas stove, which was turned up to high, but she couldn’t get a grip on it with the oven mitt. Deborah reached over and turned the burner off, but clouds of smoke hovered over the stove.

Sadie sighed. “Oh well. I never was a big fan of bacon anyway. Guess we’ll have to settle for eggs and bread.”

Deborah took the spatula from Sadie. “Why don’t you sit down with Will and I’ll make us all something.”

Sadie nodded, slipping off the oven mitts and putting them on the counter near the stove. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“And I love you for it.” Deborah smiled and turned to the stove.

“Wait, don’t worry about fixing anything for me,” Sadie said from behind her. “I already ate.”

“Oh?” Deborah glanced over her shoulder before picking up a brown egg and cracking it into the cast-iron skillet. The clear liquid immediately turned white. Deborah swiftly turned down the burner. Knowing her aunt preferred not to rise very early in the morning, she asked, “Did you go out to eat for breakfast?”

“Um, not exactly.”

Her aunt’s strange tone made Deborah turn all the way around. “What do you mean?”

“What she means is that I already had it made.” Naomi came into the kitchen, carrying a small stack of folded kitchen towels. “At six a.m. The proper time for breakfast.”

“There’s no proper time for breakfast, Naomi.” Sadie poured Will a glass of milk from the pitcher on the table and held it for him while he drank. “People eat when they’re hungry.”

“In an Amish home there is.” She yanked open one of the cabinet drawers and put the towels inside. “We don’t have time to lounge around all day in bed when there’s so much work to be done.”

Deborah glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the sink. 7:00. Had she really slept that long? Normally she was up by five every day. Naomi did have the right to be irritated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d slept so late.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Sadie took the empty glass from Will and stood up. She glared at Naomi’s back. “Obviously you needed the sleep.”

Naomi turned around but didn’t look at Sadie. Instead she scanned the kitchen, her expression growing harder by the second. “I just cleaned up and now look. The kitchen stinks from the bacon you burned, there are crumbs all over the table—”

“I burned the—”

“
Aenti
,” Deborah said, holding up her hand. She flicked off the burner under the eggs before they overcooked and faced Naomi. “You’re right, I should have gotten up earlier. I’ll clean up the mess.”

Naomi crossed her arms over her tiny waist. “I’ll do it. I’ve seen the way you clean.” She walked over to the stove, picked up the pan of partially cooked eggs, and dumped them in the wastebasket by the back door. Before Deborah could say anything, her sister had put the pan in the sink and was running water over it.

“Why would you—” Sadie started for Naomi, but Deborah stepped in front of her. The last thing she wanted was for her aunt and sister to argue in front of Will.

“It’s okay,” Deborah said in a low voice.

“No, it’s not,” Sadie whispered back. “She did that on purpose.” Sadie looked around Deborah’s shoulder at Naomi, who had her back to them while she scrubbed the frying pan.

“Probably, but I’ll talk to her.” Deborah guided her aunt to the table and continued to whisper. “Will needs more than bread for breakfast. I’ve got some raisins in my bag. He can have those until I can fix him something else.”

“Never mind the raisins.” She picked Will up and perched him on her hip. “We’re going out to breakfast.” When Deborah shook her head, she held up her free hand. “No arguments.” She tilted her head toward Naomi. “Let her stew by herself.”

“You and Will go ahead. I have to stay and talk to her.”

“Suit yourself. I think you’re wasting your time. She’s past reasoning with.”

When Sadie and Will left the kitchen, Deborah turned to Naomi. “You and I need to talk.”

Naomi didn’t say anything, just rinsed the pan and set it in the dish drainer. When she moved to go to the stove, Deborah touched her arm. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Naomi. I’d like us to be friends.”

“Friends?” Naomi rolled her eyes and pulled from her grasp. “We’re sisters. We don’t have to be friends.”

“Then at least we have to be civil to each other. For
Daed’s
and Will’s sakes.”

“If you don’t like how things are here, you’re free to leave.” She grabbed the dishrag and started wiping down the table. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and help out you and
Daed
.”

“We don’t need your help.” She scrubbed the rag against the table. “We’ve been doing fine since you’ve been gone.”

“But now that I’m here, I can take some of the load off of you.”

Naomi hurried to the sink and shook out the rag. Bread crumbs fell into the soapy water, and Deborah wondered why her sister hadn’t dumped the crumbs into the trash can like she normally did. Then Naomi dropped the rag in the sink and faced Deborah. “Your
sohn
is needy and sloppy and messy. All he does is make more work for me.”

“He’s a
boppli
, Naomi. Of course he’s going to need things and be sloppy. I don’t expect you to watch after him anyway.”

“
Gut
, because I won’t take care of him. He’s your responsibility, not mine.”

“I know that.” She didn’t understand where Naomi’s vehemence was coming from. She was acting as if Will was an unwanted animal instead of her nephew. And as committed to the Amish as her sister was, she should understand that children, all children, were to be treasured and nurtured. “I’ll try to keep Will out of your way.”

“See that you do.” She looked straight at Deborah. “We’re living under the same roof, and that’s it. So don’t try to be friends with me, or involve me in your problems, or act like you want to be helpful. I’m not interested. I have my own life to live.” She stalked out of the room.

Deborah stood in the kitchen, dumbfounded by what had just happened. Maybe Sadie had been right; her sister was beyond reasoning with. She just didn’t understand why.

Chapter 10

Z
ach tapped the reins lightly against Maggie’s flanks. She picked up her steps and trotted down the road. Thankfully she’d recovered from her scare the other day. Ruth had called flying over a meadow in a runaway buggy “an adventure.” It certainly had been an adventure all right, one he didn’t care to repeat.

Normally he’d be on his way to the buggy shop, but he remembered last night that he’d planned to fix the window in the schoolhouse before Ruth and her students arrived this morning. Last week, it had fallen down without warning several times, and he’d told himself he needed to fix it before school reopened. It just kept slipping his mind. So he’d left home early, planning to stop at the school, fix the window, then head over to Kline’s for half a day’s work.

He was grateful for his new job. The supplies to repair the school hadn’t been cheap, and he had purchased them all on credit. He intended to pay everyone back as soon as possible. That meant working as many hours as he could. It would help if he had another job. He’d even thought about asking his father if he had any extra work, but after their conversation Saturday night, Zach wouldn’t bother. His
daed
would rather pay someone who wasn’t a part of the family than pay him.

He forced the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t want to think about how his father was still disappointed in him. He wasn’t about to let his
daed
or anyone else spoil today.

Zach started whistling a church hymn, taking in the bright sunshine and cloudless sky. This kind of day breathed from the heavens, his grandfather used to say. He never paid much attention to the phrase before, but now he understood what his grandfather meant. Something was changing inside Zach. He had worked harder than he ever had in his life, and the sense of accomplishment brought a joy he’d never experienced before. He finally understood what his father meant by gaining satisfaction through a job well done, even if his
daed
refused to recognize Zach’s accomplishment.

He passed by a large white Amish house set far back from the road, its dirt drive winding through a green field of short grass. Just past the house was a huge field filled with leafy, green cornstalks that had been picked clean and left to turn brown. Everything around him was bathed in sunlight, which warmed him in the black buggy. He pushed back his hat, letting the breeze cool his damp forehead. Hot already. It was going to be a scorcher today.

His thoughts skidded to a stop when he saw the schoolhouse. As his buggy neared, he gave his head a quick shake. Was he seeing things? Had to be. There was no way a woman’s legs were dangling out the window of the schoolhouse.

He blinked again, but he still saw them. Black shoes, black knee socks, and a light gray dress draped over her calves. Good grief, was that Ruth? He spurred Maggie onward. When he whipped into the drive, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the window and the slender woman hanging halfway out of it.

He reined his horse to a stop and dashed out of the buggy. “Ruth!”

The legs started kicking harder, making her dress sway. “Help!” came a muffled voice from inside the building.

He yanked up the heavy window, put his hands on her small waist, and pulled her out, placing her on the ground in front of him. The window immediately slammed shut.

Ruth bent over, gasping for air. He moved closer to her. “Ruth, are you all right?”

She stood and pressed her hand against her stomach. A few seconds later, she took a couple of deep breaths then turned and faced him. To his relief, she seemed okay. How had she climbed in the window anyway? He looked around, expecting to see the metal tub from the shed underneath the window, but it wasn’t there. She must have stood on something, unless she’d hoisted herself on her own. Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin was shiny with perspiration. Her white apron was twisted to the side, and strands of her hair had loosened from her
kapp
. But she wasn’t hurt. This was the second time he’d seen her looking disheveled, and he had to admit he kind of liked it. She looked pretty . . . cute.

Her surprised gaze met his as she took a couple more big breaths. “Zachariah?”

A lock of her hair lay partly over her left brow bone, almost covering her eye. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed it back, the side of his hand gliding against her heated cheek. His breath hitched. He meant to sweep it behind her ear, but before he could, she caught his hand in hers, holding it for a second before pushing it away.

His face grew hotter than a gas heater in winter. What in the world had gotten into him? She moved away from him until she was pressed against the schoolhouse. He steeled himself for her anger. If she’d ever had a reason to be upset with him—and lately he’d given her plenty of reasons—it was now. He had no right to touch her, and yet he’d done it twice. She probably thought he was a complete
dummkopf
. Or that he was trying to take advantage of her.

But she didn’t say a word, and her expression didn’t reveal anything close to anger. At first he saw confusion in her eyes, then an emotion he couldn’t immediately define. Then he saw . . . nothing.

She straightened, adjusted her apron, and tucked another loose strand of hair behind her other ear. “
Danki
, Zachariah.” No longer breathless, her tone was formal, as if she were addressing a stranger. “Why are you here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his skin growing slick not only from the heat of the day, but from trying to hide his embarrassment at being so impulsive. He wasn’t like Ruth, who apparently could turn her emotions on and off with ease. He needed more than a few seconds to compose himself. “I, uh, I was on my way to, um, work.” Great, now his tongue wasn’t cooperating. He was making an all-out fool of himself. “I stopped by to, uh, fix the window.”