Snowfall (11 page)

“You mean. . . . You mean, with all of you overnight?”

Thinking quickly, he nodded. “We already have an extra room. You can have it.” Pretending he felt more excitement for the idea than he actually did, he attempted to smile.

A look of dismay passed through her eyes, though she hid it quickly. “I don't know.”

“I'd pay you for your time, of course.” He didn't know how, but he'd figure out some way.

“Believe it or not, it's not the money.”

“What then?” He supposed she might have many reservations about staying at his house. And maybe even justifiably so. But just as important, he had a feeling that he needed to pin her down right away. Otherwise there was a very good possibility that he was going to lose her.

“I don't think it would be proper.”

“How so?”

When she blushed, the reasons hit him square on the nose. “Ruth, you aren't worried that I would behave improperly, are you?”

“No, not exactly. It's just that we are both unmarried.”

“Technically, that is true. But we would have half a dozen children acting as chaperones.”

“That is true.”

“And don't worry. I haven't the slightest wish to compromise you,” he said in a rush as a smile played on his lips. “Actually, I hadn't even thought about you in such a way. Ever.”

She inhaled sharply. “Of course not.”

Taking another look at her, his smile faded as he saw that his honesty, delivered without the slightest hint of finesse, had been a little too blunt. Perhaps even rude.

But how did one repair that?

“Listen, I'm going to go,” she said in a rush. “I'll think about your offer tonight and give you my answer in the morning.”

And that was the best he could hope for, he realized. “What should I do about Gregory?”

“Cool baths, mix up some baking soda and water and make a paste to put on his blisters. Give him some children's Tylenol if his fever gets worse.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I've been around chicken pox a time or two. You might buy some Calamine lotion at the pharmacy. That'll help with the itching.” After sliding her arms into her coat, she slipped her black bonnet on over her
kapp
. Finally, she pulled out two royal-blue mittens. “I better go now. I have plans for this evening.”

“Oh. Of course. Sorry. I forget the rest of the world has a life.”

“You have a life, Martin Rhodes. You have a mighty nice one,” she said softly. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll help you with your horse.”

“Not tonight. I mean, I don't mind the chore, and you need to see to the
kinner
.
Gut
naught
, Martin.”

“Good night, Ruth,” he said quietly as he watched her close the door behind her.

Alone in the kitchen, he turned to the window and watched her walk sedately toward the barn. Her chin was tucked into her chest, though whether it was to shield her face from the winter weather or because she was deep in thought, he didn't know.

When she entered the barn, he was left to simply stare at the gray skies and brown land. Land that looked as desolate as he felt inside, he realized somewhat fancifully.

What am I doing, Lord?
he asked silently.
What do You want me to do? I want to do Your will, but it would be kind of nice if You every now and again gave me the benefit of the doubt and You didn't try to cut me off at my knees
.

“What do you think she's gonna do?” Katrina asked from the hallway.

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“Nee.”

“Sure about that?”

“I wasn't. I mean, I didn't mean to.” Still standing in the doorway, she said, “I was coming in to get Gregory some water and I heard you and Ruth talking.”

“You should have made yourself known.”

“I would've, except you sounded so serious.” A line formed between her brows. “Do you think she'll come back tomorrow?”

“
Jah
.” Of that, he had no doubt.

“Do you think she'll stay here with us?”

“I don't know that answer.”

“But we need her.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But we can't always put our needs in front of others'. Her feelings matter, too.”

“But what else could be important to her?”

“That's probably the problem, don't you think? Until this very moment, I've been so focused on my selfish wants and needs I've forgotten that she has her own wants and needs, too.”

Walking to his side, Katrina unconsciously mimicked his position, standing in front of the window and looking just as forlornly outside.

“I still miss Mamm.”

“I know. I still miss her, too.”

“I don't think the twins remember her anymore.”

“It's been two years. They weren't even four when she died. You were seven. That's a big difference.”

“Are you mad that they don't remember?”

“Not at all.”

“But—”

“Life goes on. Go get Gregory's water. I'll be up to check on him in a minute.”

For once, she followed directions without an argument. When she was out of sight, Martin stared at the empty scenery outside again and realized that it was time for him to stop.

He needed to stop wishing for snow. Stop wishing for customers. Stop wishing for time.

God was already giving him a new day each morning. To continually ask for more?

It was a selfish thing to do. He should feel ashamed.

Frank only throws up when he eats too many cookies.

Gregory, Age 7

It wasn't exactly easy having a shy houseguest. But that said, Lovina was enjoying having Annie in her home more than she ever thought she would. Maybe that was because Annie was every hostess's dream—quiet and polite. Neat and respectful. Privately, Lovina thought that this girl could give lessons to most folks about the importance of good manners. Especially some of her grandchildren.

But all that aside, what really drew Lovina to their slim, timid houseguest was the fact that Annie seemed to prefer being around her and Aaron.

She and Aaron had noticed it the first time the three of them had entered the main house and joined everyone for supper. Annie had smiled shyly and spoken when she had no choice, and almost looked comfortable around Viola and Edward.

But she completely relaxed when she was near Lovina and Aaron. She chatted more, smiled more. And seemed to appreciate doing the simplest things with them, such as folding towels or sweeping the wooden floor.

She also enjoyed working on a thousand-piece puzzle with Aaron. She'd sip tea and concentrate on putting the pieces together with a focus that would have been slightly alarming if she didn't look so happy about doing it.

They had just returned from another long meal at the main house, one that involved Edward, Roman, and Landon chatting with Peter about their jobs and joking about basketball games, and the women making plans for Christmas dinner at Elsie's
haus
. Annie was seated at the kitchen table and working on the puzzle again.

When Aaron went to see if he could help with the animals in the barn, Lovina heated up some apple cider and settled across from the girl.

“You seem to like puzzles a lot,” she said. “Do you do them in Belize?”

Annie popped her head up and for a moment stared at Lovina as if she'd made a joke.
“Nee.”

“Is it because no one has any? If that's the case, we can send you back with a good supply. Or we can mail them to you, if you'd rather.”

“That's mighty kind of you.”

“It's nothing. Just puzzles.”

Annie bit her lip. So much so, that it was obvious that she was contemplating how much to share with Lovina.

“I do enjoy puzzles, but you shouldn't mail me any. I wouldn't be able to use them.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“My father, uh, he wouldn't be pleased with me wasting time like this,” she finally said, brushing a tendril of dark brown hair that had gotten loose of its pins off the back of her neck.

Annie's comment had warning signs all over it. The only problem was that for the life of her, Lovina couldn't figure out what was so wrong about doing a puzzle.

With this in mind, she navigated her way carefully. “We all need to keep busy, of course. And, to be sure, being a missionary and serving God's children is a blessing. But everyone could use something fun to do, I think.” Remembering how Viola said that Annie's father seemed to put the people he was serving ahead of his family, Lovina asked, “What do you usually do when you have spare time?”

Annie shrugged. “Sleep. Clean.”

“
Nee
. I meant when you are simply relaxing. Enjoying the day.”

“My
daed
doesn't believe in that.”

He didn't believe in relaxing? “Do you have siblings?” she asked slowly. Surely there was some joy in the girl's life.

“I do. An older brother and sister.”

“Are they in Belize with you?”

“
Nee
, they are back in the States, but we don't talk much. They're much older and had a falling-out with our father. Daed doesn't permit me to write to them.”

Lovina ached to pry, to ask why Annie wasn't moving heaven and earth to spend time with them, but she feared she might be pushing too much if she did so. Therefore, she simply nodded in a concerned way. “Ah.”

For the first time in their acquaintance, Annie's eyes brightened. “
Jah
. That just about sums it up, I think. When it comes to my family, there isn't much to say, I'm afraid.”

“I am sorry for that.”

“Me, too.” She shrugged. “That was why when Viola asked if I'd like to come here to Ohio with her and Edward, I jumped at the chance. I may never get another opportunity to have a Christmas like this.”

The girl's words humbled her, and Lovina had long since reached the age when she was sure she couldn't be humbled by much. This girl's wants were so simple, her life so empty of joy, that Lovina ached to change things.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Pardon?”

“You might not know this, but I have something of a reputation for getting things done. And, uh, for helping others.” Guiltily, she thought about Ruth and the way she'd manipulated her to help the Rhodes family. Yes, she got things done and was reasonably good at getting folks to bend to her will.

“How old are you, child?”

“Nineteen.”

“How long have you been in missionary work?”

“All my life.”

“It isn't my place to say this, but I'm wondering if the Lord would understand if you wanted to do something for yourself now. If your heart is in Belize and your good works there, that would be one thing. But if, perhaps, you have maybe thought about doing something else, I would encourage you to do that and talk to your father about your wishes.”

Twin splotches of red bloomed in her cheeks. “I don't know what to say.”

“There's nothing you need to say. Just think about it.”

Annie tucked her chin in to her chest. “Lovina, my problem isn't that I want a change. My problem, I fear, is that I don't even know what to wish for.”

Lovina was thinking of her own past, of how she'd made a series of bad decisions when she was a teenager and then kept her past a secret for almost forty years. Of how she'd taken great care to hide it all behind a gruff exterior and unreachable expectations. Of how only when everything all spilled open inadvertently and created a lot of distrust between her and her children and grandchildren and even with her husband . . . Lovina realized that she, too, had once thought she was stuck. That change wasn't possible.

She'd assumed her only option was to cover up the past. To keep secrets even from those you loved best.

She'd been wrong, of course.

“You are old enough to make your own decisions,” Lovina said quietly. “And though most who know me would be somewhat surprised to hear me say this, I'll tell you that you should make your decisions about your future on your own.”

Her lips slightly parted, Annie stared at Lovina in wonder. At last she nodded her understanding.

Lovina smiled back. And because they seemed to have reached an agreement of sorts, she said, “Sometimes, I think life is like the ground in winter.”

Annie's eyebrows lifted. “How so?”

“Sometimes we only see the brown earth, with the fields looking dried up and ugly. It seems that we'll never see anything beautiful again. We wish with all our might for a good snow to fall. For everything to be covered up. Then, everything would be beautiful, covered by a bright, glistening layer of perfection.”

Annie nodded, urging her to continue.

“But what I've learned—and what you might want to think about, dear—is that eventually, the snow always melts.”

“And underneath?” Annie whispered.

“And underneath, one will find one of two things: Either everything will be the same as it ever was, no better, no worse. Or, sometimes, one finds that everything has been cleansed.” She smiled softly. “And then, every once in a while, the Lord gives us special gift.”

“What?”

“A lovely, fresh, bright green blade of new grass.” Just thinking of that sign of spring, Lovina smiled. “He reminds us that while the snow might come . . . it always melts. And in its place can be something truly lovely.”

Annie leaned forward. “Lovina, have you ever seen such a thing?”

“Something beautiful where there was once nothing?” She smiled, then gave in to her impulse and curled her hand around Annie's. “All the time, dear. All the time.”

We don't know yet if dogs get the chicken pox. So far? Frank is not itchy.