A Hand to Hold (3 page)

But he had grown since then. He still had the same deep red hair, light-green eyes, and pale freckles on his face. But he’d grown several inches and lost some of his youthful girth. Now he was lean, muscular, and at least a head taller than she was. Well, his body may have changed, but his penchant for being irresponsible obviously hadn’t.

Guilt pricked at her. She was judging him. But it was hard not to when faced with what Zachariah had done. When she gained sufficient control, she left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. From the smile appearing on Moriah’s face, Ruth surmised she had been successful in masking her internal struggle.

The kettle whistled, and Moriah went to the stove and turned off the burner. Two white mugs were on the counter, a thin string with a small white tag dangling over the lip of each one. She poured hot water into each cup. Moriah handed Ruth a cup and gestured for her to sit down.

Although she wasn’t thirsty, she acquiesced to satisfy her sister. What she really wanted to do was go home and try to figure out what to do about the schoolhouse. But first she had to tell her brother-in-law what had happened. When she’d arrived, Moriah had made such a fuss over Ruth’s injury that she hadn’t had the chance. “Where’s Gabriel?”

“He’s out with the girls in the backyard. I’ll
geh
get him.”

Ruth shook her head. Gabriel worked long hours in his blacksmith shop, and she didn’t want to interrupt his time with his daughters: Verna, who was almost four; Ester, almost three. Baby Leah had just turned eighteen months. “I can wait until he’s done.”

“I’ll get the
maed
and Gabriel will take you home. I don’t want you driving yourself.”

Ruth suppressed a sigh. Moriah’s words echoed Zachariah’s. His motives had been transparent, and she could tell he wanted to take her home more out of his guilt than for her safety. Moriah’s concern was genuine, though just as annoying. “That’s not necessary. I drove all the way over here from the
schulhaus
without a problem.”

Moriah frowned. “If you ask me, Zachariah should have offered to take you.”

“He did. I refused.”

“But why? Ruth, I don’t understand you sometimes. It’s one thing to be independent; it’s another to be foolish.”

“I’m not foolish.” Her voice rose, and she brought it back down. “I know my own body, and I’m fine.” Even if she hadn’t been fine, she wouldn’t have accepted a ride from Zachariah. Visions of the wrecked schoolhouse came to her mind. All her meticulous planning, wasted. All her hard work, ruined. School would be delayed until the
schulhaus
could be repaired, and her students would be behind from the start. How would she make that time up? Her head started to pound, and she brought her fingertips to her temples.

“Ruth, it’s going to be all right.” Moriah came over to her and put her arm around her shoulders. “Maybe the
kinner
can meet at someone’s home until the school is fixed.”

Ruth tried to shrug her off, but Moriah’s grip held firm. The idea was plausible. It would require flexibility on all their parts, but she would be willing to do it as long as the school board and parents agreed to it. Finally, Ruth gave in and accepted Moriah’s comforting.

“Stay here and I’ll get Gabriel,” Moriah said. “He’ll be happy to take you home. He was just saying the other day how you two never get a chance to talk.”

Ruth nodded, knowing it would be useless to argue with her sister, as Moriah would wear her down with kindness. Ruth was already worn down enough.

Moments later Gabriel came inside the kitchen carrying Leah and Ester, with Verna and Moriah tagging close behind. The tightness around Ruth’s mouth relaxed at the sight of her nieces. Verna ran and jumped in her lap. Ruth’s arms went around the small child, feeling the sweat on her niece’s skin and dress from playing in the heat outside.

“
Aenti
Ruth, I flipped out of the swing!” Verna grinned, her brown eyes twinkling, her smooth forehead beaded with sweat.

Moriah gasped, but Gabriel chuckled. “First and last time.” He handed Leah to his wife and set Ester down on the chair at the table. He took off his yellow straw hat and threaded his fingers through his damp brown locks. “She reminds me so much of Levi. Not afraid of anything.”

Ruth looked up at Gabriel’s mention of his late twin brother. Levi had actually been Moriah’s first husband, and he was Verna’s biological father. Ruth had only been twelve when Levi had died in a car accident. She’d seen how Gabriel had helped Moriah during that tumultuous time, supporting her through the pregnancy. Then they had fallen in love, marrying a year later and starting their own family. Verna had never met Levi, so Gabriel was the only father she knew. And he clearly loved her as his own.

Moriah gave her daughter a stern look. “If you’re going to be reckless, you won’t be allowed to swing anymore.”

Verna’s grin faded into a pout, and for the first time since Zach had crashed into the schoolhouse, Ruth had the urge to smile. She didn’t dare, though. Her niece might look adorable with her bottom lip poking out, but rebellious behavior wasn’t tolerated by any member of the family. Moriah picked up Verna and set her on the chair. “Stay put.”

“But—”

“You heard your
mami
.” Gabriel stood next to Moriah, unified in their discipline.

Verna nodded and remained still.

Ruth admired her sister and brother-in-law’s parenting skills. She planned to apply the same type of calm consistency in her classroom. If she ever had the chance. She gripped the edge of the table.

Gabriel looked at Ruth. If he noticed her stress, he didn’t let on. “Moriah said you need a ride home.”

“She’s insisting.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to ride with your old
schwoger
?” Gabriel moved toward the back door where the pegboard held a couple of yellow straw hats and Moriah’s black bonnet.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. And you’re not old. What I should have said is she’s making me accept a ride from you. Which I appreciate, of course.”

“Of course.” Gabriel gave her a knowing smile. “I don’t mind taking you home, Ruth.” He peered at her as he put his hat back on. “From the looks of that bump on your forehead, I don’t blame her for being concerned. She told me a little about what happened. I’m eager to hear the rest. Sounds like we have a problem on our hands.”

Ruth said good-bye to Moriah and her nieces, thanking her sister for her untouched tea. Once she and Gabriel were on the road, she explained what Zachariah had done to the schoolhouse. The ride was short, only fifteen minutes, and she barely noticed the cars zipping by as she talked. By the time they reached her parents’ home, the sun had nearly set, leaving behind faint slivers of light between the feathery clouds.

Gabriel slowed the horse as he pulled in front of the house. His normally placid expression was troubled. “Zach’s
daed
is on the board.”

“I know. He told me.”

“I’m sure I’ll be hearing from Gideon about a meeting soon enough.”

“I hope so. I don’t want the students to be any further behind than they have to be.”
No thanks to Zachariah
.

She reined in the thought.
Mercy. Forgiveness
. She was struggling to do what the Bible, and what her faith, directed her to do: apply mercy to him and the situation. But doing that just felt painful, like shards of glass sliding down her throat. She looked at her brother-in-law’s profile, his gaze seemingly fixed on the back of his horse’s head.

Gabriel was a firm believer in forgiveness and leaving the past behind. He had hired Aaron Detweiler as an apprentice in his blacksmith shop after Aaron had spent time in jail and rehab. When Aaron returned home, he’d floundered around, trying to find his way. Gabriel, who always saw the good in others, gave Aaron a chance. Then Ruth’s sister Elisabeth had married Aaron about a year ago. Ruth knew she needed to see the good in people too.

“Ruth?” Gabriel’s voice yanked her out of her thoughts. “We’re here.”

Ruth looked through the buggy’s front opening to the white, two-story house where she lived with her parents and her older brother Stephen. Her other brothers, Tobias and Lukas, were married and had their own families. Her mother’s flower boxes hung over the banister of the wraparound front porch. Like the flower beds rimming the house, they were filled with vibrant red, white, and pink impatiens and lavender and purple petunias. They had thrived despite the simmering summer heat.

Gabriel angled his body to face her. “Are you okay?”

She wished everyone would stop asking her that. She wiped the perspiration off her brow with the heel of her hand before picking up her purse and tote bag. “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

“Sure, but just for a bit. I want to get back and help Moriah with the
maed
.” Ruth moved to get out of the buggy, but Gabriel suddenly stopped her. “I know you’re disappointed about the
schulhaus
.”

“Moriah suggested that we hold school at someone’s
haus
.”

He ran his forefinger over his bearded chin. “I’ll have to see what the school board thinks about that. But don’t worry, Ruth. We’ll make sure the
schulhaus
is fixed as soon as possible. And if the board decides it’s best to delay school for a short while, enjoy the time off.”

She didn’t want time off; she wanted to teach. But she didn’t say that to Gabriel. He wouldn’t understand. No one in her family appreciated her devotion to education and learning. She told him what he wanted to hear. “Okay. I won’t worry about it anymore.”

“Gut.”

She and Gabriel walked into the house and found her parents in the front living room, where they usually spent their Sunday evenings reading. Her father, Joseph, was dozing in his chair, his head tilted back and his mouth partly open as he snored softly. Her mother, Emma, was on the couch, thumbing through an afghan pattern book. The only light in the room came from a small lamp on the end table. The windows were open, but it was only slightly cooler in the house than it was outside.

When her mother looked up and saw Ruth’s forehead, she stood and went to her. “
Gut
heavens, what happened to you?”

For a third time Ruth relayed the story, her father waking up soon after she started speaking. When she finished, Gabriel reassured her parents, just as he had Ruth, that the schoolhouse would be repaired.

Her father rose from his chair, his knees quietly popping as he stood. “
Danki
for bringing Ruth here. I can drive you home.”

Her mother adjusted the silver-framed glasses that she wore all the time. As Gabriel and
Daed
started to leave the room, she said, “Tell my precious
grossdochders
I said hello.”

“Verna wasn’t acting too precious when we left,” Gabriel said with a chuckle.

“Not a bit surprised. But I’m sure she’ll be over it in no time.”

Ruth touched her mother’s shoulder. “You should
geh
with them. That way you can tell them hello yourself.”

“Oh,
nee
. I couldn’t leave you—”

“
Mami
, I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll stay right here on the couch.”

“
Ya
, you will, and I’ll be right here to make sure that you’re okay.”

Ruth stifled a sigh. So much for taking care of herself.

After Gabriel and Joseph left, her mother started fluffing the pillows on their sage green couch. She set her book on the plain coffee table in the center of the room, then gestured to the sofa. “You can lie down here.”

Ruth looked at the couch. She was hot, still piqued over the wrecked schoolhouse, and now her head was throbbing. The last thing she wanted to do was lie down. But she did as her mother said anyway.

“Are you hungry? I can make you some soup.”

“
Nee
. I’m not hungry,” she said, stretching out her legs on the couch. “Or thirsty,” she added, knowing her mother would offer her some tea.

Her mother dimmed the lamp on the side table. “Very well. I’ll let you rest. If you need anything let me know.
Don’t
get up and get it yourself.” Her thin gray brows arched over her blue eyes. “Understand?”

Ruth nodded and watched her mother leave.

She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, forcing herself to at least try and relax like everyone wanted. But she couldn’t, not when her mind whirred, going over everything she had to do to salvage her teaching situation. What she really wanted to do was go to her room, which had always been her sanctuary. She’d been lucky as a child to have her own room upstairs in the attic, as her siblings had always had to share. It had become her safe haven, and over the years she had spent many hours there, studying, reading, and dreaming. Tonight, though, she was stuck on the couch.

As she lay there, the ribbon of tension through her body slowly loosened. Closing her eyes, she tried to take Gabriel’s advice and let the worry go, but it clung on the edges of her mind. Many of the supplies had been destroyed, including some textbooks and workbooks, her posters and maps, and some of the spiral notebooks she’d purchased for her students. Replacing those would be the easy part. Readjusting her school plans wouldn’t. Weeks of lessons, prepared down to the last detail and written in ballpoint pen, would have to be redone. But she couldn’t even do that, not until she knew when the repairs would be completed so school could begin. Earlier this afternoon, everything had been organized, planned, and prepared to her specifications. Now, it was all in shambles.

Tears of frustration threatened to spill, but she refused to give in to them. She’d learned early on to hide her emotions and remain in control. Because only when she was in control could she convince everyone else that she was okay.

Chapter 3

P
ARADISE
, P
ENNSYLVANIA

G
ut
tea.”

Deborah Coblentz looked at the man seated across from her in her aunt’s living room and tried to muster a smile. “
Danki
, Thomas.” She forced a little more enthusiasm into her words. “I’m glad you like it.”