Part 26 (1/2)
Beth had tears in her eyes. ”No, he never will.”
Rose glanced over her shoulder. ”How patient can ya be?”
Beth blinked her eyes, wiping back tears. ”It's no fun being stuck here. The only time I get outside is when I dress like an Amish boy and help in the yard for a while.”
Rose felt sorry for her yet again as she scrubbed the dishes. It occurred to her that Beth was surely bright enough to do some easy kitchen ch.o.r.es. ”Would you like to dry the dishes and utensils?”
”Daddy says I might break something, so we just leave them be.”
You aren't kidding - you leave them for me! ”Well, if I showed you how to carefully dry, would you like to try?”
Beth scratched her head and moved her weight from one foot to the other. ”Um ... I don't know.”
”Isn't it time you learned how to take care of a kitchen?”
Halfheartedly, Beth finished eating her oatmeal and a whole fritter before coming to the sink. She brought her dirty dishes and silverware and handed them to Rose. Then she picked up the dish towel Rose had placed there.
”Are you right-handed?”
”Yes.”
”All right, then. Pick up the plate in your left hand and dry with the towel in your right.” Rose showed her what she meant with the first bowl. ”Always make slow movements when stacking plates and other breakable items. That way you won't chip or crack them.”
They worked side by side until all the dishes were washed and dried. Then Beth went down the side hallway to the rear door and peered out. ”Daddy looks real sad out there.”
Everything's changing for him, thought Rose.
Beth came back down the hall and opened the kitchen pantry door. She disappeared in there for the longest time, talking to herself all the while. Then, just when Rose was about to check on her, Beth brought out the broom and dustpan. ”I hoped and hoped I'd get to see your baby horses,” said Beth, sniffling. ”Hoped so hard it hurts.” She began to push the crumbs about in unpredictable patterns, attempting to sweep under the table without Rose prompting her.
She smiled empathetically at Beth, who was clearly eager for more independence.
When the floor was swept, Beth went to sit in her father's usual chair, across the room. Hoping to join her, Rose walked to the pet.i.te armless rocker and was about to sit.
”Oh, not there!” Beth said, eyes wide.
Rose stepped back.
”That chair was Mommy's.” Beth's lower lip quivered. ”She made the pretty needlepoint there on the seat cus.h.i.+on.”
Rose leaned down to look. ”Your mother was very gut. Mine does needlepoint, too.”
”We stopped sitting in her chair when she ...” Beth's voice faded off.
Sighing, Rose said she knew her mother had pa.s.sed away. ”I'm awful sorry.”
”Daddy said Mommy was too young to die.”
Rose thought on that. ”Well, it's not our place to question G.o.d's timing. Did you know He plans when we enter this world at birth - and He knows the day we will draw our last breath, too?”
Beth blinked. ”Never heard that before.”
”It's written in the Bible,” she told her. ”Our heavenly Father is sovereign. That means His plans for us are far better than what we could ever begin to plan ourselves.”
Beth looked at her. ”Is it easy for you to trust G.o.d, Rosie?”
”Believe me, I'm far from perfect, but I try not to let myself question the Lord.”
Shrugging nonchalantly, Beth got up from the chair and wandered back through the sitting room, nearly stumbling as she headed toward the stairs without saying more.
Did I say something to upset her? Rose wondered.
Even after returning home, Rose continued to think about her discussion with Beth. How much of it had Mr. Browning's daughter understood? And what of his reluctance to allow Beth to visit the farm?
Rose tried to keep her attention on her latest novel as she snuggled into her bed that night, about to drift off to sleep. Suddenly she saw a flash of light on one of her windows. Ach, is it Silas? She scurried to find her bathrobe and slipped it on. Not having time to put her hair into a respectable bun, she wound her waist-length hair up into a knot before opening the window.
There below stood Nick, his flashlight s.h.i.+ning on the ground. ”Will ya come for a ride, Rosie?”
”Aw, Nick ... I was nearly asleep already.”
He nodded solemnly. ”It's maybe too late ... jah.” He sounded glum.
”You all right?”
”Sure.”
The cold night air pressed into the room. ”Well, I'll see ya tomorrow, then.”
He turned, his shoulders slumped as he crept away ... alone, back toward the bishop's farmhouse.
Something's not right. Rose closed the window and tried to dismiss her fears.
On Thursday afternoon, there was a pretty white quilt to complete for the upcoming wedding season. Rose accompanied Hen in the family carriage to Aunt Malinda's, where she was glad to see her sister and her aunt getting further reacquainted. In fact, Aunt Malinda made a special point of drawing out Hen. Mattie Sue was spending the day with Kate and her little ones, so Hen was free to soak up their loving aunt's kind attention.
On the ride home, Hen surprised her by taking up the driving lines for the horse - she'd left her car parked behind the barn at Dat's for the day. Rose realized Hen had not been using her car much this week, not even to go to her job yesterday - Dat had taken her over in the family buggy, of all things.
Most noticeable, though, was Hen's countenance, which had begun to change from concerned to carefree. Her smile lit up the entire area, no matter where Hen happened to be, including the stable. ”I want to become familiar again with Dat's driving horses,” she explained. An interesting, yet worrisome sign ...
Hen was happy to see Rose that evening after supper, when Rose invited her and Mattie Sue to family wors.h.i.+p at the main house. Pulling up a chair next to her mother, Hen listened as her father read from what he called the ”love chapter” in the New Testament book of Corinthians. She couldn't help wondering if the pa.s.sage had been chosen just for her - love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things . . . - but she didn't mind. Eager for G.o.d's wisdom, especially in the form of Scripture, she welcomed whatever spiritual guidance she might glean from her father.
After an evening prayer from the old German prayer book, Die Ernsthafte Christenpflict, Rose took Mattie Sue over to play at the bishop's with three of his visiting granddaughters. Dad left the house to head out to the stable to see the foals, and Hen was glad to sit quietly with her mother, who seemed more interested in talking than at other times.
”Are you free of pain tonight?” Hen asked, touching her mother's hand.
”A little more bearable than sometimes.” Mom smiled thoughtfully. Then, after some time, she said, ”My dear girl ... I hope you'll keep the door wide open where Brandon's concerned - invitin' him for meals, finding ways to be with him.”
”I'm doing what I can.”
”That's wonderful-gut, Hen.” She went on to encourage her. ”Couples need to make things right with each other, submitting to one another in love, as G.o.d instructs us in Scripture.”
Hen honestly wondered if her mother knew what that might involve in her case. ”I'm going to write him a letter ... every few days.”