Love’s Journey Home (28 page)

Annie cocked her head toward the back of the bakery. “Mary Elizabeth. She’s in the
storeroom unpacking the spices that came on Friday. She seemed a little frazzled this
morning so I asked her if something was wrong. She said she heard Abigail come in
right before it was time to get up. Abigail barely had time to change and wash up
before she had to help Emma get breakfast.”

“This is awful. This is
awful
.” Helen sank onto the bench next to the front door below a sign that read
Sweets Waiting Room. The wait will be worth it
. “She’s sure she was with Edmond?”

“She said Abigail told her so. She said they took a picnic down to the pond on our
property and went fishing.” Annie’s expression grew far away, as if remembering something.
Something sweet. Or bittersweet. “Stayed up all night talking. Just talking.”

“Gabriel forbade Abigail to see him.”

“She’s running around.”

“With someone her father doesn’t wish her to see.”

“A sticky situation.”

“I’ve got to go home and talk to him. I’ve got to set him straight.”

“Nee.” Annie and Josiah spoke at the same time.

“What do you mean, no?”

“What Edmond does during his running-around is his business. That’s the way it works.”

“Emma and Luke came for you when you were in Wichita,” Helen pointed out to Josiah.
“They brought you back.”

“Because my parents died.” Josiah said the words without emotion, but Helen saw the
pain flicker in his eyes. She regretted bringing it up, but he forged on without pause.
“I chose to come back. Then I left again. Idiot that I was. But I had to find out
for myself. I had to make my mistakes before I could come back and know this was where
I wanted to be. Just be glad Edmond has taken up with a Plain girl and not an Englischer.”

“Sarah was Mennonite,” Annie said, as if to absolve Joshua of a little of the guilt
written across his face. “And she did pursue you.”

“I let her. Like I said, I was an idiot. I lost so much time with Miriam…” Joshua
set his empty cup on the counter. “I have to get back to work.”

“Gabriel Gless doesn’t want his daughter seeing my son.”

“Like you, Gabriel needs to let go. Let them be. Let them find their way. That’s what
we do. That’s why we have this running-around period.” Josiah tipped his hat at his
sister. “Thanks for the kaffi and the fry pies. How much do I owe you?”

“Get out of here!” Annie gave him a look of mock horror. “Like I’d charge my own brother.”

“You’re a good schweschder.”

Annie’s expression faltered. “You said goodbye to Luke?”

“I’ll stop at the house tonight, make sure Mark gets the chores done.” Josiah picked
up the bag of pastries. “You’ve given him the week off here?”

“Jah. He’ll be busy at the farm.”

“You need help here…”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you need deliveries made, send Mary Elizabeth to tell me.”

Helen watched the exchange, ashamed of the tendrils of envy that tried to wrap themselves
around her throat, like weeds threatening to snuff out roses. The Shirack brothers
and sisters had a bond like few other families. Still, she’d been blessed to have
her parents so much longer than they had. She had no right to feel anything but blessed.

“You want to make a point with Edmond?”

It took Helen a second to realize Josiah was now talking to her. “Jah. I do.”

“Go roust him from bed and make him work. He’ll be dragging, but he’ll get the message
that he can’t stay out all night and if does, he’s still expected to carry his weight.”

“All right.”

“And stop looking so worried.” Josiah pulled the door open and paused halfway through
it. “We all survived our rumspringas. So will he.”

Not if Gabriel Gless found out.

G
abriel hopped onto the back of the wagon and wedged himself between the sofa and the
table that lay on its side. Sweat rolled down his face and trickled onto his shirt
collar. He swiped at his cheek with his sleeve. Whose crazy idea had it been to move
in late July? Oh, yes. His. He needed the fresh start now. Not later. To top it off,
he’d waited until Thomas and Luke were gone to Missouri. Two sets of hands he could’ve
used this morning. No matter. He didn’t want to impose on Emma any longer. She had
her own hands full, what with her husband out of town. She didn’t need to cook and
clean for his brood.

“Give me a hand with the sofa,” he called to Isaac, who loped down the steps of their
new home with the energy of a much younger man. Gabriel longed for that energy. One
good night’s sleep might produce it. At this rate he would never know, such were the
tossings and turnings of his nights. “Once we get it out, it’ll be easier to move
the table and chairs.”

“Everything is covered with dust and straw from having been in Thomas’s barn.” Streaks
of sweat had made tracks in the dust on Isaac’s face, attesting to the truth of his
statement. “The girls can get busy wiping everything down.”

The girls were in a tizzy over the new kitchen, a bit larger than the one they’d had
back home—back in Indiana, Gabriel mentally corrected himself. Bliss Creek was their
home now. He liked seeing them excited about a kitchen. It meant they had their priorities
straight in a world where it could be easy to lose sight of them. They’d cleaned and
mopped and dusted and waxed until the inside of the house shone. The boys had freshened
the paint on the outside, straightened shutters, repaired the steps, and generally
polished the outside. The place looked neat and clean, as it should. Now to make it
their home.

“I’d be happy to help.”

At the sound of Helen’s voice, Gabriel let his end of the sofa drop back onto the
wagon. Helen trotted up the road from the cluster of buggies parked by the corral
fence. She carried a large pie—pecan from the looks of it—and her children were following
her. Including Edmond.

She apparently hadn’t understood their conversation Sunday afternoon. He didn’t want
her son anywhere near his daughter.

“What are you…”

“Hey!” Isaac objected from his position on the ground with half the sofa hanging on
his shoulder. “This is heavy!”

“Right.” Gabriel stooped to pick up his share of the weight. He focused on the job
at hand, hefting the sofa to the ground, and then scrambling down himself. “You want
to go backward or forward?”

“Backward,” Isaac said, the picture of youthful assurance. “Tilt it so it’ll fit through
the door frame.”

“I’ll just take this to the kitchen,” Helen called after him. “Edmond can help with
moving the furniture and the girls will help unpack the dishes.”

“
Gut
,” he managed.

Helen nodded but didn’t move. She stood there, watching them manhandle the sofa. It
was heavier than he remembered. At this point he saw no alternative but to be thankful
for the help she offered. He would keep an eye on Edmond himself. And with so many
people showing up to help, there would be no possibility of the young ones trying
to sneak off on their own. Besides, Abigail knew better, especially after the talking-to
he’d given her Sunday night.

Not to mention it wouldn’t be neighborly of him to reject her help. And they were
going to be neighbors now. The Murphy place bordered the Daugherty homestead. Close
quarters in the country. He and Isaac shoved the sofa against the far wall in the
living room, both of them grunting at the same time. “That should do it,” Isaac said,
and sat down on it. “I don’t remember it weighing so much.”

“Me neither.”

He should, though. The sofa was the only piece of furniture he and Laura bought after
their marriage. Everything else had been made by his daed and her Onkel Obediah, who
ran a carpentry shop in Dahlburg. They’d picked out the sofa at a discount furniture
warehouse not long before Isaac was born. Really, Laura had picked it out. She liked
the sturdy wood frame children could climb on and not hurt. She liked the dark blue
fabric that wouldn’t show stains from little hands and feet. He liked it too, but
for different reasons. It brought out the blue in her eyes when she sat on it, sewing
in the evenings or reading letters from her family back east in Pennsylvania.

“That’s where you want it?” Helen stopped in the doorway, the pie still in her hands,
her nose wrinkled. “In that spot?”

“What?”

His response sounded gruffer than he’d intended, but he didn’t see any way to soften
it now.

“It’s just…are you sure that’s where you want it?” She took a tentative step forward.
“It’s so far from the fireplace.”

“And?”

Another step.

“I’m just imagining…when it gets cold. Aren’t you going to want it situated in front
of the fireplace?” She craned her head to one side as if picturing Gabriel and Isaac
sitting before a blazing fire on a cold winter night. Instead of gasping and sweating
as they moved furniture on a blazing July day. “Otherwise your feet and hands are
going to be mighty cold.”

“Well.”

Gabriel thought it over. He looked at Isaac, who shrugged and stood. Together, they
hoisted the sofa again and moved it several feet so that it faced the fireplace mantel.

“Back a little farther so you have room for the table. You’ll want room to put a rug
under it. Rugs will make the room seem cozy and are warmer than the wood floor.” She
sat the pie on the mantel and pointed to a spot. “You have long legs; you’ll want
to give yourself plenty of room.”

“You are a bit bossy, aren’t you?” The words were out of his mouth before Gabriel
could stop them. Isaac guffawed. Gabriel gave his son a stern look. Isaac stifled
the sound and shoved the sofa back a few more inches. Gabriel managed to make eye
contact with Helen. “Good advice, though.”

“A woman’s touch is what makes a house a home.” She smiled, giving her round face
the same softness he’d noticed at the Brennaman house. “Everyone knows that.”

“I reckon you’re right.” Bethel Graber popped into the room. She carried a pie. A
pecan pie just like the one Helen held. “I brought pie and my brothers. We’ll have
you settled in no time.”

The two women looked at each other. Then at Gabriel.

“Emma says pecan is your favorite, Gabriel,” Bethel said, a big smile on her face.
Her blue eyes sparkled with something—he couldn’t be sure what. “I made two. Leah
has the other one.”

“I like pecan all right.” Gabriel managed to get the sentence out. Once again, he
felt like a schoolboy. Only thing was he didn’t know why. It was just pie, wasn’t
it? He looked from Bethel to Helen and back. “I like pie in general.”

Isaac guffawed. This time he didn’t try to stifle it, even when Gabriel gave him a
blistering look.

Helen’s cheeks burned. With the pie in her hands, she couldn’t cover them. She marched
into the kitchen and set it on the counter next to a platter of brownies, a chocolate-frosted
cake, and half a dozen loaves of bread. The prep table held casseroles and sandwiches
and other goodies. The Gless girls wouldn’t have to do any cooking for several days
while they got settled in their new home. They didn’t need her help. Why she’d felt
compelled to come here, she couldn’t imagine. Yes, she could. It was the neighborly
thing to do. She had to forgive Gabriel for his attitude toward Edmond. He was only
trying to be a good father by protecting his daughter from untoward influences. Even
if he thought her son represented the untoward influences.

Her talk with Edmond on the previous day had yielded little. His expression morose,
he’d done her bidding, rising from his bed and stalking from the house to tend to
the fields. She’d also done her best to convince him he couldn’t continue to pass
the time with Abigail, but his expression said he had no intention of changing his
behavior. None.

This morning she’d drilled him before leaving home about his conduct during this move.
Their purpose consisted solely in helping their new neighbors move in, to be neighborly.
That’s what she wanted Gabriel Gless to see. That she knew their responsibility to
help make the Gless family feel welcome in this community. Edmond would work and nothing
more. Gabriel would see that her son could behave himself. No little chats in the
corner. No running into the kitchen to seek a glass of iced tea. Just work. His sullen
face did nothing to convince her he planned to do as she told him.