Brush of Angel's Wings (19 page)

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Authors: Ruth Reid

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BOOK: Brush of Angel's Wings
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“Mamm?”

Sadie poked her head around the kitchen wall. “Mr. Thon drove her to the hospital. They took
Daed
by ambulance.”

Rachel's chest tightened. “Will he be okay? What did the medical people say?”

“I don't know. The ambulance crew asked a few questions about his medical history, then they carried him off the field on a long board.” Sadie's eyes filled with compassion as she held out her arms, and Rachel walked into her sister's embrace.

“It's my fault.” Resting her head on her sister's shoulder, Rachel sobbed, tears dampening Sadie's dress.

“Don't blame yourself. Accidents happen.”

Rachel sobbed harder. The accident happened because of her mindless actions and selfish, proud desires.

“Pull yourself together
nau
.” Sadie pushed Rachel out to arm's length. “You must stay strong.”

Rachel swallowed her sobs for her sister's sake and wiped her eyes. But she wasn't strong. Even though she pretended to be. Even though she planned to be. She really wasn't strong at all. She swallowed the lump wedged in her throat. “How long do you think
Daed
will be in the hospital?”

“That will be up to the Lord.” Sadie peeked inside the oven. “I've started supper. You should tend to the animals and get the milking done before it gets too late.”


Jah
, I will.” After James died, Rachel's sisters took over the responsibilities of the entire household. It gave
Mamm
time to grieve, although she did so silently. Rachel helped in the barn and kept
Daed
company, even though he didn't say much either.

“You are strong. This is what you've wanted. Now you'll be in charge of the barn chores.” Tangus hovered close to Rachel's side as she walked, head down, to the barn. With her weakness exposed, it would be easy for Tangus to push her further into guilt or build her pride and self-satisfaction with accomplishing the chores on her own. He could manipulate either emotion to his satisfaction. As long as she didn't call out to God.

Stepping inside the barn, Rachel shivered from the dampness. She fed Clyde, Ginger, and the other stock horses, then the calves. Finally, she checked on the expecting cows. She was especially concerned about Wendy. After Wendy struggled to deliver her first calf and then bore a stillborn, Rachel wanted to watch her progress daily. The cow appeared content, a good indication she wouldn't deliver tonight. She gave the cow a little rub on the end of her moist nose. Wendy just stared into space, chewing.

She stepped outside the barn into twilight. She walked toward the house feeling the weight of her foolishness.

Sadie set a chicken and broccoli casserole on the table in front of her that had some healthy scoops taken out of it. “I would stay and eat with you, but I need to get home before Timothy worries.” She picked up two plates filled with food. “Timothy will tell the bishop and spread the word that help is needed.”

“Nay!”
Rachel lowered her voice. “I think we should wait for
Daed
to give those instructions.” She wasn't ready for the entire settlement to know the outcome of her poor actions.

Sadie balanced the plates as she headed for the door. “I'll leave the decision making to Timothy.
Daed
doesn't need the burden.”

Although Rachel pretended to agree, she silently vowed to finish the morning chores and be in the field before daylight.

After learning that her father needed surgery and that her mother would stay a few days at the hospital, Rachel spent a fitful night with her stomach tied in knots. Although mentally drained by morning, she determined to complete the chores as needed. She dressed, snatched an apple from the wicker basket on the table, and headed to the barn. She hurried through the morning chores and even had Clyde harnessed and hitched to the post all before the rooster's sunrise call.

She left Clyde long enough to get the chains. When she didn't find them hanging in their usual spot, she walked the length of the barn with a lantern and searched every wall stud. Not finding them in the barn, she hoped they were still in the field. Perhaps whoever tended to Clyde yesterday hadn't thought to bring the equipment in.

“You and I have a long day,” she told Clyde as she led him out to the field.

Leaving Clyde at the stump, she paced the steps in the direction her
daed
was pulled. The pink sky lit the area enough to find the chains. Wet with dew, they slipped out of her hand. Rachel growled in frustration. “This is crazy. The chains will slip off the wood too.”

“You must try,” Tangus encouraged from a distance. He could see the animal sensed his presence, but this wasn't the time for Tangus to stir him.

He wanted Rachel to succeed. Let her empowerment be driven by pride. Tangus snickered; pride led them all to a quick fall.

Rachel wrapped the chain around the stump, then attached it to Clyde's trace. She gripped his lead and called out, “Pull.”

When Clyde pulled, the chain slid off the stump.

Rachel backed him up and reconnected the chain. The second attempt failed, and so did the third. She would need to come up with a different plan. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Timothy trekking over the furrows toward her.

“What are you doing? Do you want to get hurt too?” Timothy took the chain from her hand and dropped it on the ground.

“I have to do something.” Her voice cracked.

“This is dangerous.” He crossed his arms. “Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

She lowered her head. Staring at the black soil was easier than meeting his brotherly eyes.

“Rachel,” he said, lifting her chin. His deep brown eyes bored into hers. “You're
nett
thinking wisely. This is
nett
a job for you.”

“The field can't be cleared by itself. I have to do something.”

“The chain's wet. The wood's wet. Another accident is going to happen, and Sadie would have
mei
hide if anything happened to you.” He smiled. “I don't want to mess with a pregnant woman. Especially the one living in my
haus
.”

Rachel cracked a smile.

Timothy bent down and grabbed the chain. He draped it over Clyde's back, then took hold of his lead. “Let's take him back to the barn.”

Rachel, left with no option, followed along. She squinted at the rising sun. Not a cloud in the sky. Maybe the stump would dry by the afternoon. Her mind reeled with other ways to secure the chain. Perhaps if she wrapped a piece of old cheesecloth around it . . .

They reached the edge of the field when he asked, “What happened to Jordan? Sadie said he left.”


Jah
, he did.” She motioned to the barn. “I'll go open the gate.” She sprinted ahead. Maybe Timothy wouldn't ask anything more about Jordan.

Timothy stopped Clyde at the fence and unharnessed him. After releasing the horse to graze in the pasture, Timothy picked up the equipment. “You need full-time help. More than what I can do since I've accepted the extra work to pay for the room addition.”

“I can do it,” she said.

Timothy shook his head. “
Nett
alone. I'll ask Jordan to
kumm
back. I'm sure once he finds out about Micah—”

“Let me,” she said. “I'll ask him.”

When forced to eat humble pie, she found it easier to feed herself.

As Jordan tossed a bale of hay off the back end of the pickup truck, then reached for the next one, a buggy flashed in his peripheral vision. He recognized Ginger immediately. He finished hoisting up the forty-pound bale and tossed it off the truck with the others.

He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped his forehead. Rachel climbed out of the buggy. She stood for a moment and scanned the area before she headed for the barn. He grabbed another bale, trying not to react to her presence.

“Jordan?” She entered the barn and stopped beside the pickup.

“Jah.”
He continued working, only at a faster rate. The moment she'd spoken, his heart skittered. He didn't dare look her in the eyes.

“I don't know how to ask you . . .”

“Spit it out, Rachel. I'm a little busy.” He wrapped his gloved hands around the twine of another bale and lifted it waist high.

“I'm sorry to interrupt—” Her voice quivered and she spun around.

“Hey. Wait.” He dropped the hay and jumped off the side of the truck. “Why did you come?”

She kept her back to him. “It's
nett
important. I can
—

Jordan reached for her arm. “
Jah
, it is.” The mulish woman wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. He moved in front of her. The despondence in her eyes convinced him something was terribly wrong.

“Jordan?” Kayla entered the barn and stopped. Her focus shifted from his hand on Rachel's arm to Rachel and then to him. “I wanted to know if we're still going riding.”

He dropped his hand. “I'm not finished unloading the hay, Kayla.”

“I need to go,” Rachel said flatly and walked away.

Jordan followed. “Rachel, please tell me why you're here.” He trailed her back to the buggy and held out his arm to block her from climbing inside.

She closed her eyes. After a long pause, she said, “I thought I could beg you to
kumm
back and help in the fields, but—”

“You're filled with pride.” His breath caught when he looked into her teary glare. This was deeper than a pride issue. “I'm sorry,” he said.

Kayla came over and shaded her eyes with her hand. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

“Give me a minute, please, Kayla. Let me finish my conversation in private.”

Kayla threw Rachel a curious glance. “I'll get Pepper ready,” she called as she walked inside the barn.

“Okay,” Jordan said to Rachel, infusing as much kindness into his voice as he could. “Tell me why you came.”

Rachel stared at her dress as she ran her hand over the creases. “
Mei daed
was injured in the field.”

“How? How bad? Will he be okay?”

She squeezed her eyes closed, covered her mouth, and shrugged.

“Don't cry.” He cocked his head to get a view of her face. “You can tell me later.” He steadied her trembling shoulders. “Of course I'll help. I have one more truckload after this one to unload, but I won't be long.”

She dropped her hand but kept her head down.
“Denki.”

Jordan waited until she and Ginger were on the road before trekking back to the barn. If he hurried, he could be there before the evening milking.

Jordan climbed onto the bed of the truck.

“What's going on in Amish land?” Kayla leaned against the side of the truck.

“Micah Hartzler was injured,” he said, moving to hoist the bales of hay more quickly.

“What does she expect you to do? She does know you have another job, doesn't she?”

Jordan continued dropping hay bales off the truck. They landed with a soft thump and a poof of hay dust. He'd still have to stack the bales before he left. He hoped by ignoring her, she would take the hint and leave so he could finish the job. But she continued to lean against the side of the truck, only now she rested her chin on her crossed arms and watched him work.

She stood there until he tossed the last bale off and jumped from the pickup bed. Needing to stack the bales against the wall, he grasped the binder twine at the same time Kayla gripped his arm. He released the bale and moved his arm away from her. “I'm in a hurry.”

Her bottom lip puckered. “You don't have to go, do you?” She moved in front of him, placed her hands on his shoulders, then stepped closer. “I was hoping you still wanted to go riding with me.” She tilted her head, parting her lips inches from his face.

He pulled back. “Not today. The Hartzlers need help.”

“And they'll get it.” She rolled her eyes. “That's what the Amish do. They congregate when there's a crisis.”

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