Patricia Davids - An Amish Wife For Christmas

Jesse glanced at her and shook his head. “I’ve seen her around. I think she’s a stray.”

“Would you happen to have anything I can feed her?”

Jesse laughed. “Are you a softhearted fellow?”

“Is there anything wrong with that if I am?”

“ Nee , I like animals, too. Maybe more than most people, but I think I’m going to like you, Michael Shetler.” Jesse clapped him on the back with his massive hand, almost knocking Michael over. “There’s a couple of ham sandwiches in the refrigerator inside the office. You are welcome to them. For you or for the dog. Your choice.”

“Danki.” Michael walked into a small building with Office in a hand-lettered sign over the door. Inside he found a small refrigerator with a coffeepot sitting on top of it. He took out two of the sandwiches, happy to see they contained thick slices of ham and cheese. After taking a couple of bites from one, he walked out with the rest in his hand. The dog was still sitting in the driveway.

He walked to within a few feet of her and laid the sandwich on the ground. As soon as he moved away she jumped up and gulped down the food. Looking up, she wagged her tail, clearly wanting more.

“Sorry, that’s all there is. We are two of a kind, it seems. You needed a handout and so did I. We have Jesse over there to thank for sharing his lunch.” Michael chuckled. He had teased Bethany about talking to her cow but here he was talking to a dog. It was too bad Bethany wasn’t here to share the joke.

What surprised him was how much he wanted to see her again.

* * *

Jeffrey Morgan’s home was a little more than a mile farther up the road from Bethany’s house. As she pulled in she saw Jeffrey’s mother getting out of her car. When she caught sight of Bethany she approached the buggy hesitantly.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Morgan.” Bethany stepped down from the buggy unsure of what to say.

“You are Ivan’s mother, aren’t you?” The woman remained a few feet away.

“I’m his older sister. Our mother passed away some years ago.”

“That’s right. Jeffrey told me that. I’m sorry about your grandfather. Jeffrey was fond of him.”

“Thank you. Is Jeffrey here?”

“No. He’s at school.”

“I’m afraid he isn’t. I just came from the school. Neither he nor my brother showed up for class today.”

Mrs. Morgan looked around fearfully and moved closer to Bethany. “Are you saying that the boys played hooky today?”

“I don’t know that word.”

“ Hooky? It means they skipped school without permission.”

“Then ja , they played hooky.”

Mrs. Morgan looked toward the house at the sound of the front door opening. Mr. Morgan stepped out. Jeffrey’s mother leaned closer. “Don’t tell my husband about this. I will speak to Jeffrey.”

Puzzled by her fearful reaction, Bethany nodded. “Please send Ivan home if you see him.”

“I will.”

Bethany waved to Mr. Morgan. He didn’t return the gesture. She got in her buggy and left. Where were those boys and what were they up to?

Bethany arrived home just after noon. She parked the buggy by the barn and stabled her horse. She wasn’t any closer to finding her brother or figuring out what he was up to. As she came out of the barn, a car horn sounded. She glanced toward the county road that ran past her lane. Frank Pearson’s long white passenger van turned off the blacktop and into her drive. Frank was the pastor of a Mennonite congregation a few miles away. He and her grandfather had become good friends. Frank used to visit weekly for a game of chess and to swap fishing stories.

Frank pulled up beside her and rolled down his window. “Good day, Bethany.”

“Hello, Frank. Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time today. I have my bereavement support group meeting in twenty minutes. I just stopped in to see how you’re getting along and to invite you and your family to attend one of our meetings when you are ready. It doesn’t matter what faith you belong to or even if you are a nonbeliever. We all grieve when we lose loved ones.”

“ Danki , Frank. I don’t think it’s for me.”

“If you change your mind, you’re always welcome to join us. Please let me know if you need help with anything. I miss Elijah, but I know my grief is nothing compared to yours. I promised him I’d check in on you.”

“Our congregation here is small, but we have been well looked after.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll stop by again in a few days and stay awhile.”

Maybe Frank could reach Ivan. “Why don’t you come to dinner on Sunday? I know Ivan and Jenny would enjoy seeing you again. Maybe you can interest Ivan in learning to play chess.”

“You know, I believe I will. Your cooking is too good to resist. Thanks for the invite.”

“You are always welcome here.”

After Frank drove away, Bethany headed for her front door. The smell of warm yeasty dough rising greeted her as she entered the house. Gemma was busy kneading dough at the table. Bethany pulled off her coat and straightened her prayer kapp . “What are you doing here again so soon? I thought you said tomorrow?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you are making a mess in my kitchen.”

Gemma giggled as she surveyed the stack of bowls, pans and the flour-covered table. “It does, doesn’t it?” She punched down the dough in a second bowl and dumped it onto a floured tabletop.

“Why are you baking bread in my kitchen?”

“Because you didn’t have any. I realized on my way home this morning that the least I could do for a friend was to remedy that.”

“I appreciate the gesture but why not bake it at your home and bring the loaves here.”

“I didn’t want to mess up my kitchen. I just finished washing the floor.” Gemma looked at her and winked. “Where have you been, anyway?”

Should she confide in Gemma about Ivan’s recent actions and Jedidiah’s accusations? Once more Bethany wished her grandfather were still alive. He would know what to do with the boy. She hung her coat on one of the pegs by the kitchen door. “It’s a long story.”

Gemma looked up. “Oh?”

Bethany went to the far cabinet and pulled out a cup and saucer. She felt the need of some bracing hot tea. “Jedidiah came by earlier. He accused Ivan of stealing two bags of potatoes and a bag of beans from his cellar.”

Gemma spun around, outrage written across her face. “He did what?”

“He said Ivan stole those items and he had proof because Ivan sold some of the potatoes to the grocer this morning.”

“I don’t believe it. I know Ivan has been difficult at times, but he is not a thief.”

Bethany filled her cup with hot water from the teakettle on the back of the stove. “That’s what I said. I went to the school to hear Ivan’s side of the story.”

“And?”

“And he wasn’t at school. He hasn’t been to school all week. He forged a letter from me telling the teacher that he is out sick.” Bethany opened a tea bag, added it to her cup and carried it to the kitchen table, where she sat down.

After a long moment of stunned silence, Gemma came to sit across from her. “You poor thing. Still, that doesn’t mean he stole from Jedidiah.”

“It doesn’t prove he didn’t. And it certainly doesn’t speak well of his character. Jedidiah went straight to Bishop Schultz with the story. I had hoped to speak with the bishop, too, but he is gone to Unity until Wednesday. I don’t know how I’ll ever convince him to let Ivan remain with us now. What is wrong with my brother? How have I failed him?”

Had Ivan inherited his father’s restlessness and his refusal to shoulder his responsibilities? She prayed that wasn’t the case.