woman waved her hands, gesturing toward him and Kyle. He struggled to follow the conversation as Kyle’s grip grew more constricting.
Guessing the old woman was accusing Kyle of causing the sauce bottles to fall, Eli said, “See here—”
The tall Amish woman—Eli thought Caleb had said his sister’s name was Miriam—turned to help the older woman stand straighter. The Englisch woman was getting more upset, and Miriam bent to speak with her.
He opened his mouth, but Kyle tugged on his sleeve. When he looked at the little boy, his nephew shook his head. Did Kyle want him to say nothing?
Straining his ears, he tried to hear what was going on and why Miriam Hartz was getting involved.
* * *
“The boy didn’t do anything.” Miriam saw the shock on the faces of the three friends she’d come with to the Salem Market, but she wasn’t going to watch in silence while a kind was falsely accused.
She guessed the little boy was Kyle Troyer, because she’d met the other kinder who lived along Harmony Creek. After the little boy and his onkel had arrived from Delaware, Caleb had gone to their house at the far end of the hollow, but she hadn’t joined him. She’d sent a chicken-and-noodles casserole as well as vegetable soup and a few jars of the grape jelly she’d brought from Lancaster County. Caleb had said Eli wasn’t talkative, but seemed determined to make a home for himself and his nephew.
She realized her brother had left out a few details. Details like how tall Eli was. She wasn’t accustomed to looking up to meet anyone’s eyes other than Caleb’s, but when the newcomer’s gaze caught hers, the startlingly blue eyes beneath his dark brown hair that was in need of a trim were a half foot above hers. Next to his left eye, a small crescent scar matched another on his chin. Neither detracted from his gut looks.
“You’re wrong!” The angry woman’s piercing voice broke Miriam’s mesmerism with the stranger. She pointed a gnarled finger toward the scared little boy. “He’s the one who did it!”
“Are you certain, Mrs. Hayes?” asked the dark-haired man who stood beside the woman. A name tag pinned on the red apron’s bib showed he was the manager and his name was Russ. “You may not have seen clearly. You’re wearing your reading glasses.”
“I know what I saw!” Mrs. Hayes ripped off her glasses and let them drop on a chain hanging around her neck and set another, more sedate, pair on her nose.
The manager hesitated, and Miriam thought he was going to listen to the old woman.
Every instinct told her to remain silent, but she couldn’t. She wondered why Eli Troyer wasn’t defending his nephew. The kind reminded her of Ralph Fisher, the little boy whom she’d thought would become her son. The two boys were close in age. Seeing the kind sent a wave of regret through her. She’d lost everything the day Ralph almost drowned. His daed, Yost, had put an end to their marriage plans, telling her the near tragedy was her fault.
She hadn’t thought so because the little boy hadn’t been in her care when he got into trouble. True, he’d been on his way to her house where she was going to watch him that afternoon, but she hadn’t expected him to arrive until much later. Shouts for help from his friends had reached her, and she’d pulled the little boy from the pond and got him breathing by the time the ambulance arrived. The little boy had survived and was fine, though he’d had a lesson about showing off she hoped he wouldn’t forget.
She hadn’t expected praise for doing what anyone would have done. Nor had she expected Yost’s anger and the repercussions and recriminations that followed. However, as time went on and others seemed to believe her ex-fiancé, she’d started doubting herself. No one else could blame her more than she did herself. She’d been a teacher for more than eight years and knew what trouble a six-year-old boy could find. Though she’d glanced out the window to watch for Ralph, she hadn’t gone to meet him. Her prayers that God would show her if the mistake was really hers hadn’t been answered, so she’d stayed away from kinder. In case Yost was right.
Her arms ached to hold the frightened little boy next to Eli and offer him comfort. But she couldn’t let herself be responsible for another kind. Next time it might not be an almost-tragedy.
Still, she couldn’t stand there and let a young boy be accused wrongly.
Those thoughts fled through her mind in a second. Stepping forward, she said with a gentle smile, “Ma’am, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
The manager glanced at her with relief. He was ready for someone else to try to reason with Mrs. Hayes.
The old woman wasn’t in a reasonable mood. “That boy bumped me a few minutes ago and almost knocked me off my feet. I’m sure he did the same to the sauce.”
“Did you see him do that?” asked a voice from the crowd of onlookers.
Mrs. Hayes glowered. “I didn’t have to. He was running wild. That man—” She aimed her frown at Eli. “I don’t know how you people raise your kids, but they need to learn manners.”
“I didn’t mean to bump her,” the little boy said. “She stopped right in front of me. It was an accident.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered if I’d fallen and broken a hip, would it, boy?”
“Let’s be thankful that didn’t happen,” Miriam said. “Why don’t you let him help you load your groceries into your car? That way, he’ll have another chance to say he’s sorry.”
The kind glanced at his onkel and made motions with his hands.
Looking from him to her, Eli nodded.
“I can help you,” the little boy said, sticking out his narrow chest.
The elderly woman seemed to have second thoughts as if she’d just realized how young the kind was. “No, that’s not necessary.” She frowned at Eli again. “You need to keep a closer watch on your child, and both of you need to learn how to behave in a store.” With a muttered comment Miriam didn’t catch, she walked away, pushing her cart.
The manager stepped forward, careful to skirt the broken glass. He motioned for a couple of his teen employees to start cleaning up the mess. He apologized to her and to Eli, ending with, “Mrs. Hayes means well.”
“I understand,” Miriam replied.
Eli said, “Danki.”
His voice was a rich tenor as smooth as warm molasses. She wished he’d say more, but he didn’t.
When Russ offered to pay to have her clothing cleaned, Miriam assured him it wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the stains out, but she didn’t want to hand her clothes over to a stranger. The manager insisted on giving her a discount on her groceries, and she agreed after realizing she’d become the center of attention in the cramped store.
“You, too, sir,” he said to Eli.
Again, Eli didn’t reply until his nephew tugged on his arm. “Danki.”
He took his nephew by the shoulders and steered him to a cart farther back in the aisle. When he glanced at her again, their gazes locked. Did he want to say something to her?
For the third time, he said, “Danki.”
The single word’s warmth and the sincerity in his voice swirled through her like a spring breeze after a difficult winter.
“You’re welcome,” she replied.
After he gave her a slight nod, he and his nephew walked away.
And Miriam let the air in her lungs sift out. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, and she wasn’t sure why she’d been.
“Are you okay, Miriam?” asked a soft voice from behind her.
As