Patricia Davids - An Amish Harvest

“It has. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

“There isn’t any way for me to know that unless you speak, Samuel.”

“I did speak.”

“After I stood here in awkward silence for ages. Are you worn out after your stroll?”

He almost denied that he had been up, but thought better of it. “How did you know?”

“I noticed the papers on your desk had been disturbed and one was on the floor. The window isn’t open, so I knew they couldn’t have blown around.”

“I bumped into it.”

“I thought so.”

He grudgingly gave her credit for her good idea. “Leaning against the wall makes it easier.”

“I’m glad my suggestion was helpful.”

He heard the front door open. “Samuel, I’m back. I’m sorry I was gone for so long. How are you?”

His mother came charging up the stairs, breathless by the time she reached his bedside.

“I’m fine, Mamm .”

“So many people have stopped by to ask about you. I must’ve told the same story about your injury ten times already today. I thought I would never get free.”

“Samuel and I have gotten along fabulously. I changed his sheets. He was up in the chair and even took a short walk. I’m very pleased with him.”

His mother laid her hand on his cheek. “You haven’t overdone it, have you, Samuel? The doctor warned against that. I would feel dreadful if you suffered a setback. Is the pain worse? I don’t know why she thought you needed to be up.”

He’d forgotten the pain in his hands and his face for a short time while he was talking with Rebecca. They came roaring back to life now although the pain pill was taking the edge off. “I might have overdone it.”

“Is that blood on your bandages?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. He bumped it, but the bleeding has stopped,” Rebecca said calmly.

“You shouldn’t have let him get up.”

“Maybe we should let him rest for a while and discuss this downstairs,” Rebecca suggested.

“An excellent idea. You and I need to have a talk.”

Samuel knew that tone. His mother wasn’t happy. He felt a stab of pity for Rebecca, but quickly smothered it. She would be on her way home shortly.

He was glad about that, wasn’t he?

* * *

Anna Bowman was upset.

Rebecca followed her to the kitchen and prepared to receive a scolding. She didn’t have long to wait.

Anna spun to face her with her arms clasped across her chest. “I’m grateful you came to help, Rebecca, but my husband made a mistake in bringing you here. You have overtired Samuel, and I won’t have that.”

“He is tired, but he can do more than you think. He needs to do more.”

“I know how to take care of my own son better than anyone. If you had children, you would realize the truth of that.”

Rebecca kept her face carefully blank, but she cringed inwardly. She would never have children of her own unless she married again, and she couldn’t see herself with anyone other than Walter. She stiffened her spine, determined not to let Anna drive her away. “Your son isn’t a child. He shouldn’t be treated like one.”

“I know you mean well, but I won’t be dictated to by you. Now, I’ve got to get supper started. The men will be in soon.”

Before Rebecca could reply, the outside door opened. Isaac Bowman and his three sons filed in. They all nodded toward her and bid her welcome.

“Smells goot !” Noah said with a broad grin. The youngest of the Bowman siblings, Noah was nineteen and still in his rumspringa —the years when Amish youth were allowed to sample things normally forbidden to baptized Amish members. He wore blue jeans and a red plaid shirt. His curly brown hair was cut short beneath a black ball cap. He whipped it off at his mother’s frown and hung it on the pegs by the door where his father and brothers had placed their identical straw hats.

Anna glanced with surprise at the stove where Rebecca’s chicken and noodles were simmering. Apparently she had been so intent on returning to Samuel that she hadn’t noticed the enticing smell.

Isaac looked around in satisfaction. “The house looks wunderbarr . The floor is spotless. The counters are clean and neat. It’s goot to have my industrious wife back. I knew bringing Rebecca to look after Samuel was exactly what you needed. You have always kept our home as neat as a pin until Samuel’s accident.”

Anna glanced around the room. “Well, I try.”

Rebecca took pity on the woman. “I wasn’t able to get the biscuits started, Anna. Would you like me to do that, or would you like me to sit with Samuel?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Anna chewed the corner of her lip as she gathered her apron into a wad.

“Let her sit with Samuel,” Isaac said. “No one makes biscuits as good as yours.”

Anna looked as if she wanted to argue, but instead she nodded. “Tell Samuel that I will be up to feed him as soon as the family is finished with supper.”

“Anna, I brought Rebecca here to lighten your load. Let her do her job.”

Anna folded her arms over her chest. “She made supper and picked up the house. It was a kindness and I thank her, but I can take care of my own family.”

Rebecca caught Isaac’s eye. “Samuel asked that Timothy help him this evening.”

Isaac arched one eyebrow but didn’t comment. Rebecca hoped he understood Samuel’s reluctance to be seen as an invalid by others, even by her. She turned to the young men washing up at the sink. “Do you mind, Timothy?”

“I don’t mind a bit.” Timothy dried his hands on a towel and tossed it over Noah’s head. Noah snatched it off and gave his brother a good-natured grin. “You make a fine nursemaid, Timmy. I’m not surprised he asked for you.”

“Better to be the nursemaid than the baby.” Timothy laughed at Noah’s quick scowl and then went upstairs.

Anna smoothed her apron. “May I speak to you privately, Isaac?”

“Of course.” He followed her into another room.

Rebecca sighed deeply. She had been too forceful, too pushy, too sure that she knew what was best. She had allowed her experience with her husband’s illness to cloud her judgment. Samuel wasn’t Walter. Anna would see that she was sent home. It was a shame, because Anna really did need help even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“How is he?” Luke asked. He had a wary look about him. Standing apart from the others near the front door, he looked ready to make a quick escape. She had the feeling he was as much an outsider in the home as she was.

Rebecca smiled to put him at ease. “Samuel is healing, but these things take time.”

Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s been like a bull with a sore head. Nothing pleases him.”

Noah hung his towel on the rod at the end of the counter. “ Mamm says we must be patient with him and do everything we can for him.”

Luke moved to take his turn at the sink. “That’s what we’ve been doing, and his mood hasn’t improved.”

“Sometimes doing everything for a person does more harm than good.” Rebecca moved to the stove, lifted the lid off the pot and stirred the contents. Fragrant steam rose in a cloud.

“What do you mean?” Noah asked.

She decided the noodles needed a few more minutes and replaced the lid. “Just that if you don’t encourage your brother to try harder, he will only grow weaker.”

Luke rinsed his hands and turned off the water. “Samuel has never been the weak one.”

“That’s why this is so hard for him.” Rebecca glanced toward the doorway where Anna and Isaac stood. She couldn’t tell what decision had been reached, if any.

Isaac hooked his thumbs through his suspenders. “Let’s get out of the way until supper is ready. Noah, you owe me a chance to beat you at checkers.”