At Home in Pleasant Valley (18 page)

“Did you?” Matthew glanced at him then.

“I looked,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You know that we don't go to the law to settle disputes among ourselves, but that doesn't mean I didn't look. I thought, if I could find you, maybe I could talk to your mamm about coming home.”

Should he have done more? Could he have? The questions haunted him.

“Matthew, didn't you know I loved you and would look for you?”

Matthew's gaze met his then, his eyes wide in the moonlight. “I thought so. But Joe—he was one of Mammi's friends—he said you'd have forgotten about us, and when you didn't come—”

Daniel grabbed his son, pulling him tightly against him. “I love you.” He muttered the words against the boy's silky-fine hair. “Don't ever think that I could forget you. I never stopped thinking about you for a single moment when you were gone.”

Matthew's arms wrapped around him. “I missed you, Da.”

“I missed you, too.” He kissed his son's forehead. “But now you're here, and we're together.” He cupped Matthew's face in his hands, looking at him seriously. “Always. I promise.”

Matthew nodded, a smile trembling on his lips. “Always.”

Daniel blinked away tears. “Ser gut,” he said softly. “Now I think you should be in bed.”

Matthew stood and then paused, turning toward the window. “Daadi, that sounds like a buggy on our lane.”

The boy's ears, quicker than his, had caught it first, but now he could hear the clop of hooves and the creak of a buggy. Who would be coming at this time of night?

“To bed with you. I'll take care of it.” He started toward the door, mind churning. People didn't come calling this late on a summer night. Was something wrong?

A
sound woke Leah from the fringes of sleep. She shifted in the bed, puzzled. What had that been? Not one of the usual noises, or it wouldn't have wakened her.

Moonlight still poured through the window, so it wasn't very late. It felt as if she'd just gotten to sleep, in fact. Perhaps it was Anna, coming home. Had Daad talked to her yet? What had he said? More importantly, would it do any good?

She shoved her heavy braid back over her shoulder and settled her head on the pillow again. If it was Anna, Leah wouldn't get any thanks for showing concern.

The sound came again, but this time, awake, she could identify it. Gravel. Someone had thrown a handful of gravel at her window.

She slid from the bed and ran barefoot to the window, her heart thudding. She wasn't a seventeen-year-old, expecting a sweetheart to wake her for a late-night talk. Something was wrong.

She shoved up the window and leaned out. Below her, silhouetted clearly in the moonlight, stood the horse and buggy Anna had taken when she'd left tonight. Anna was a huddled, dark figure on the seat.

A man stood looking up at her window, his face a pale oval in the moonlight. It was Daniel.

If he spoke, she couldn't hear him for the rush of blood thudding in her ears. “What's happened? What's the matter?” She whispered the words, praying no one else would hear.

Daniel seemed to glance at the other windows of the sleeping house, then at the figure on the seat. Anna didn't move. He looked up at her again and gestured for her to come down.

She waved to signify that she understood. Ducking back inside, she
grabbed a shawl from its hook and threw it around her. No time to worry about her hair, tumbling in a braid to her waist, or her bare feet and nightgown. Something had happened to Anna.

She fled silently down the stairs, her mind a jumble of prayers.
Please, Father, please, Father, help her. Help us.

No sound broke the stillness of the house as she hurried through the kitchen to the back door. Levi and Barbara were sound sleepers, and their windows faced the other way. And Mamm and Daadi were staying at Joseph and Myra's tonight to get an early start going to market tomorrow, so the daadi haus was empty.

She swung the door open carefully, mindful of its creak, and hurried across the porch and down the steps to where Daniel waited.

“What are you doing here? What's happened to Anna?” She threw the questions toward him in a hoarse whisper as she hurried past him to the buggy. “Anna—” She reached for her sister.

Anna, slumped against the seat, didn't stir. She turned to Daniel, furious that he just stood there. “She's hurt or sick—”

“She's drunk,” he said, his voice low and flat. “Asleep by now, and you won't be able to wake her anytime soon.”

Not content with his explanation, she climbed the buggy step to get close to her sister. “Anna,” she said again, pulling at her arm.

Anna moved her head a little, seeming to attempt to rouse herself, and then sank back against the seat again, letting out a small snore. With it came the stench of alcohol.

Leah stared at her for a long moment. Then she stepped down again, turning to Daniel. She could only pray that in the dim light, he wouldn't be able to tell how embarrassed she was.

The horse shifted a little, probably wondering why he was standing here instead of being turned into his comfortable stall. The crickets, their noise interrupted for a few moments by the goings-on, began their ceaseless chirping again.

She took a breath. “How is it you're bringing her home?” Daniel would hardly have been wherever it was Anna had been drinking.

“I heard her buggy coming down my lane.” He stepped closer, whispering. “She near enough put it in the ditch before I got to her.”

Tears stung Leah's eyes—for her sister and the trouble she was in, for herself and her inability to protect Anna. “Denke,” she murmured. “It is kind of you—”

“That can wait.” He clasped her wrist, holding it loosely in one strong hand. “We're got to get her settled before the whole house is awake. Can we get her to her room?”

Why he was helping, when he so clearly disapproved of Anna, she couldn't imagine, but she was grateful. She'd never be able to manage on her own.

“No.” Her mind raced. “The daadi haus. My parents are away for the night. If we can get her in there, she'll be all right for the moment.” She turned, starting to climb into the buggy. “I'll get her—”

Daniel clasped Leah by the waist and lifted her down. “She's too heavy for you.” He climbed up in one long stride, leaned over, and slid his arms around Anna, pulling her to the edge of the seat and then lifting her down.

She lolled in his arms like a rag doll, her unbound hair falling to cover her face.

Anna, what were you doing? Where is this going to end?

“This way.” She led the way quickly across the grass toward the daadi haus, safely away from the vicinity of Levi and Barbara's bedroom. She was thankful, in a numb sort of way, for his help. She could never have carried Anna's dead weight on her own.

They went quickly up the stairs, with a little less need to be silent here. Leah pushed open the door to the small extra bedroom, thanking God that the moonlight was still so bright. She hadn't had to put on the gas lamps and risk waking anyone.

Daniel carried Anna's inert figure to the bed and put her down. She wore English clothes, of course. Blue jeans and sneakers, with a knit shirt so short it showed a strip of bare skin.

Leah pulled a coverlet over Anna. She'd have to get her changed, but that could wait until she'd gotten rid of Daniel. He'd seen enough of her family's troubles for one night.

She straightened, well aware that it was impossible to look dignified in her bare feet and nightgown, with her baby sister lying there drunk.

“You've been most kind, Daniel. I'm grateful. I can take care of everything now.”

And if he'd just go away home, she could stop wondering what he must think of them.

Not that it was all that unusual for Amish boys to have a drink too much during their rumspringa, but folks were much less likely to turn a blind, indulgent eye when it was a girl.

If Daniel was aware of her embarrassment, he gave no sign. “I'll take care of the horse and the buggy for you. You'll have your hands full enough here.”

Was there no end to the things for which she would owe him gratitude?

“It's gut of you,” she said, clasping her hands together to still their trembling. “I don't want to keep you away from the children any longer—”

“My mamm is there, remember?” He turned away, giving her the ghost of a smile. “I'll tend to things outside, and then I'll come back to the daadi haus porch. Come down if you can, just to let me know everything is all right.”

She managed to nod, managed to smile. But she didn't think “all right” was going to describe anything about her life very soon.

•   •   •

Anna
didn't wake as Leah pulled off her clothes, finding the task harder than she'd expected as she fumbled with the unaccustomed fastenings. Finally she got the jeans off and pulled one of Mamm's nightgowns over Anna's head.

How they were going to explain Anna being in the daadi haus, she didn't know, but that was a problem for later. Now she had to see Daniel again and send him off home.

She bundled the English clothes into a pillowcase and stuffed it into the bottom of the chest of drawers. Then she hurried back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

She peered through the glass of the door to the back porch. A tall form emerged from the darker shadows of the lilac bush.

She opened the door and beckoned to him. “Come into the kitchen,”
she whispered. They'd been wonderful lucky already, and she didn't want to risk rousing the house when they were so near done.

She was aware of him behind her, a tall, silent shape that sprang to life when she turned up the gas light in the kitchen, thankful that the windows faced away from the main house.

She took her time turning toward him, not eager to hear his disapproval of Anna and her behavior. But when she looked up at him, she didn't see anything but concern in his expression.

“I don't know how to tell you how much this means,” she began, but Daniel shook his head.

“It makes no trouble,” he said, his voice low, as if the silence around them impelled him to be quiet even if no one could hear. “I cleaned up the buggy as best I could without drawing any attention to the stable.”

“There was no damage?”

“None that I could see. I don't think anyone will notice that anything happened.” He fell silent, but he looked at her steadily, as if waiting.

Waiting to hear what she would do. He was willing to let her handle it, it seemed, but he probably doubted her ability.

Well, fair enough. She doubted it, too.

“I talked to my daad about Anna.” She pulled the shawl tighter around her, needing its warmth. “I hated to burden him, but I couldn't take the responsibility on myself any longer.”

“You did the right thing, Leah.” His response was quick and comforting.

Her fingers tightened on the soft fabric of the shawl. “Did I? I hoped it would make a difference—that Anna would change once Daad talked to her. And then she goes and does something ferhoodled like this.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought to blink them back.

Daniel took a step closer, his hand going out to encircle hers. His grip warmed and comforted her. “As much as you love your sister, you can't take the responsibility of trying to be her mamm.”

She resisted the impulse to lean on his strength. “There are so many years between us—by the time another girl baby came along, I was old enough to be the little mother to her. I guess I still feel that way.”

“That's only natural. And with your mamm's sickness, you've tried your best to spare her from worry.”

“Right now I don't feel as if I've done a very gut job.”

His fingers smoothed the skin on the back of her hand, as if he gentled one of the children with his touch. “You've done your best. Anna is old enough now to bear the consequences of her actions herself.”

Leah looked up, very aware of how close he was. “Yet you were ready to help me cover for her.”

“I was.” He looked a little surprised at his own actions. “There seemed no need to let your brother and sister-in-law in on it. Besides, I owe you.”

“Owe me? If you're talking about Elizabeth, I just encouraged her to talk.”

He shook his head. “Elizabeth, but not only her. There's Matthew, too.”

“What about Matthew?” Much as she'd like to help Matthew adjust to his new life, she couldn't see that she'd done much there.

“Things came to a bit of a head with the boy.” He looked down at their clasped hands, but he seemed to be seeing something else. “I felt—well, I almost reacted the wrong way, but I thought about what you would do and say. That you'd say it was better to listen, no matter how hard it was to hear what my son had to say.”

“And you did?” She had trouble concentrating on his words, too aware of the way his fingers traced circles on the back of her hand.

“Ja.” His brows drew together. “It wasn't easy to hear, for sure. Matthew— I guess he thought I didn't care for the children enough to fight to get them back.”

Her heart clenched with pain for him. “He must know you love them. Deep inside, I'm sure all three of them have no doubt about that.” Now it was her turn to want to comfort him.

His fingers tightened on hers. “I hope so. If I should lose them again—”

That was the fear in his heart, she realized. Deep down, what terrified him was the thought that once his children were old enough to choose, they'd leave.

She clasped his hand in both of hers, hoping he could feel her caring. “It will be all right. They're doing better all the time, really they are.”

“Because of you.”

Their fingers entangled, and Leah's breath hitched at the sudden passion in his voice. “I haven't done much.”

“You've understood. And you've made me see how much they need a mother.”

Her heart was thudding so loudly that she could hear it, beating in her ears. A step would close the distance between them. A word of encouragement, and Daniel would propose. She could almost hear the words, and panic flooded her.

She couldn't. She couldn't let him take such an irrevocable step, not when she wasn't ready to give him an answer.

She took a cautious breath and then a deliberate step back. “The children are very dear to me.” She loosed her hands, and he let her go instantly. “But it is late now, and I should check on Anna.”

“It is late. I must go.” But his gaze held hers for a long moment, and the unspoken question seemed to sizzle in the air between them.

He hesitated a moment longer. Then he nodded and went quickly out.

•   •   •

Leah
glanced across the crowded kitchen at Rachel's house. The group of women had been there since five this morning, making sandwiches for a hoagie sale to help with medical costs for Naomi Miller's children.

The volume of chatter continued unabated, as it had since before sunrise. White kapps fluttered like so many birds in flight around the long tables that had been set up in the farmhouse kitchen. In all that time, Anna had managed never to look at her.

It had been that way for the entire uncomfortable week. Daad had been upset to hear what Leah had had to say, Anna had avoided speaking to her, and she had been haunted by the memory of what had nearly happened between her and Daniel.

Mamm handed her a hoagie. She rolled it in wax paper and secured it with tape, then added it to the waiting cooler. She stole a glance at her mother's face. It was as serene as ever, her eyes intent upon her task.