Part 23 (1/2)
Beth eyed her Kapp and long dress and ap.r.o.n. ”I thought you might be Anne of Green Gables on the porch the other day.”
”My hair does look reddish in the sunlight.”
Beth smiled faintly. ”I sometimes wear Amish clothes, too - except britches and a straw hat.”
So that's who Donna Becker saw!
”Do ya like wearin' boys' clothes?” asked Rose with a glance at Beth's father, who appeared chagrined.
”They scratch me,” Beth said.
Rose didn't say that she, too, sometimes wore trousers beneath her dress and knew exactly what she meant.
Mr. Browning looked at his daughter. ”Beth, honey, would you like to show Rose your room?”
”Oh yes!” Beth jumped up and then waved for Rose to follow her. ”But wait until I say to come up,” she told Rose before scampering up the stairs, leaving Rose alone with Mr. Browning.
”Beth is very different,” he said, lowering his voice. ”She's not like other girls her age.”
Rose nodded. ”Is she ... troubled?” She didn't dare ask if Beth was slow in her mind, although Rose suspected as much.
”No more than anyone who's lost her mother, I suppose.” He paused before continuing. ”Beth nearly died at birth. The doctor initially couldn't get her to breathe, and it affected her development.”
”I'm so sorry.”
He nodded, his face less dour. ”After her mother died, Beth sank into herself even more.” He explained that Beth had attended special cla.s.ses at the high school in Arthur, Illinois. ”Before we moved here last year.” Mr. Browning shook his head and sighed. ”I don't know why I'm telling you this.”
Rose felt sorry for him ... and for his daughter. ”I'd like to try to help Beth, with your permission. Surely she could use a friend.”
”Well, she's always been very shy. I'm quite surprised at her interest in you.”
”I would never frighten her. I can promise you that.”
”Beth doesn't comprehend the outside world too well,” he stated. ”Most likely she'll never hold down a job or drive a car ... or even marry.” He looked at the ceiling momentarily. ”I pulled up stakes in Illinois to come here ... to protect her. A girl like Beth is extremely impressionable and naive - susceptible to those who might wish to take advantage of a pretty girl.”
Rose noted the nervous expression on Mr. Browning's face. Despite the explanations, he seemed reticent, as if holding back more. She saw his struggle as he reached into his pocket and took out his kerchief, hands shaking.
Slowly, wearily, he wiped his wrinkled eyes. ”I hope I won't end up kicking myself,” he said, motioning for Rose to take the stairs. ”I'll go along with you. Beth's waiting.”
Rose followed Mr. Browning, making her way up the forbidden staircase, gripping the railing as she favored her weaker leg. At the top of the stairs, she saw there was only one room with a closed door, and Rose paused, waiting for Mr. Browning.
He stopped to catch his breath. ”Keep in mind everything I just told you.” He turned the k.n.o.b and the door opened. ”Follow me.”
Rose stepped into a fairly large room. It was a lovely s.p.a.ce with several pieces she was almost certain were Amish made. The solid oak dresser might have been built by her own father, or her next-to-oldest brother, Enos, who made furniture when he wasn't raising tobacco and puppies to sell.
She looked around and saw a comfortable upholstered dark blue chair near the window, with a lamp table that matched the oak dresser. The single bed looked quite rumpled, as if it had been laid on after it had been made. One of the small throw pillows was lying on the floor, and there were many dozens of stuffed animals - mostly teddy bears and cats. In the corner stood a wooden cupboard containing numerous books and what looked to be rows of blue spiral notebooks.
Rose moved farther into the room. There, in the corner, sat Beth, clutching a stuffed cat, her eyes blinking rapidly. The idea of being dropped smack-dab into a story came to Rose's mind as she looked into the haunting blue eyes of Gilbert Browning's daughter.
”Beth, honey ... Rose can't stay long,” he said.
Rose was careful not to move closer to the girl. ”Call me Rosie, all right?”
”I thought I was dreaming when I first saw you,” Beth said, standing up suddenly, just as she had downstairs.
Rose held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. ”Oh, I'm real. See?” Just as real as you are. She saw that Mr. Browning had slipped out of the room.
”Where'd Daddy go?” asked Beth, looking agitated. She s.h.i.+fted her weight from one foot to another, back and forth.
Rose pointed to the doorway. ”He's just outside.”
Frowning, Beth shook her head.
”I've been wantin' to meet ya, Beth.”
The girl scurried uneasily to a window and sighed softly, her breath clouding the gla.s.s. She leaned her head down oddly and stared at the center of the window. It wasn't clear what she was looking at, but she positioned her hand on the gla.s.s just so. Then, slowly ... inch by inch, she began to slide it down the windowpane.
”I saw your hand on the window the other day,” Rose said quietly. ”It's so gut to finally talk to you.”
Beth turned. ”You say you cook for Daddy and me?”
”And clean a little, too.” Rose had a sudden idea. ”I made the most delicious cinnamon sticky buns. Would ya like some?”
Beth's eyes brightened.
”They're downstairs on the table.” Her heart was overjoyed that the treat seemed to appeal to the girl. ”Melt in your mouth.”
Beth removed her hand from the window and crept closer, though still staying at least a good three yards away. ”Will Daddy eat some, too?”
”I wouldn't be surprised.” Rose moved toward the doorway. ”Come down in a few minutes, if you'd like.”
Beth sniffled just then, like she might cry.
”You don't have to be sad, Beth. You can come right away if you like. And if you want to, every Wednesday you can watch me bake, all right?”
The girl nodded slowly. Her expressions appeared much more childlike than her body. ”I'd like that.”
Rose's heart warmed. ”Me too,” she whispered.
Beth scurried past Rose and went to sit on her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. She leaned back against the pillows and the many colorful teddy bears there. ”Stay upstairs longer, Rosie.”
”All right.”
”I want to know more about you.”
”Ask whatever you like.”
Beth asked all sorts of questions - why Rose didn't ride in a car to come to work and why she dressed like a girl from the 1800s. ”I like to read books from the time before there were any cars.”
Rose answered as best she could, then said, ”I really like your room, Beth. Thanks for showing me.”