have wanted, but he hadn’t realized how hard it would be. For everyone.
What could he say to make Micah understand he was traveling down the wrong path? Ethan looked up at the cloudless blue sky. “God, I don’t know why You needed my brother and his wife with You, but we sure do miss them. If You want me to look after their kinder, You had better show me the way to make it work, Lord, because right now I’m lost.”
He shook off the sadness that made his eyes sting. He wouldn’t dwell on his loss. He couldn’t afford to let grief muddle his thinking. Work would help clear his head.
He turned away from the house and entered the barn. Micah could stew a few minutes. Grabbing a pitchfork, he began tossing fresh straw into the stalls. He needed to find the right thing to say to Micah. More important, he needed to find a way to take care of all the children that didn’t involve sending them to live with their only other family members.
Ethan refused to consider sending them to his mother. She had given up her Amish faith and any right to be considered part of the family when she left his father. Ethan did have two elderly aunts willing to take one child each, but they wanted to leave Micah with him. He couldn’t do that to them.
Separating the kinder was something he knew his brother wouldn’t want. Not after the way they had been torn apart as children.
* * *
Clara resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder again as she and Faith walked away from Ethan’s home. What kind of punishment did he have planned for Micah? She flinched at the memory of her uncle taking a strap to her back.
Like Micah, she and her sisters had been taken in by their uncle after their parents died. Their uncle Morris was a weak, cruel man. He made their lives miserable for years. The final straw came when he tried to force her to marry a horrible man. By the grace of God and with the bravery of her sister Lizzie, they were able to escape. Now they lived with their grandfather in the Amish community of Hope Springs, Ohio. Clara tried hard to put her unhappy past behind her, but sometimes it came back to haunt her. Like now.
She knew not every man was cruel. Faith’s husband was a wonderful, kind husband and father, but Ethan Gingerich looked and sounded so stern. She glanced at Faith. “Do you think Micah will be all right?”
“He wasn’t hurt in the fall. Why wouldn’t he be all right?”
Clara kept her pace slow to match Faith’s limping stride. Faith wore a brace on one leg due to an old injury. “Did Micah’s onkel seem angry to you? He seemed very angry to me.”
“I could see he was disappointed in the boy’s behavior. That’s to be expected.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much really. He keeps to himself. He moved here about two years ago. He makes a living logging with his horses. He lived alone until recently. One day last month, he stopped by to ask Adrian to look after his horses while he went to Indiana for a funeral. Apparently, his brother and his brother’s wife were struck and killed by lightning while they were working in the field. It was a terrible tragedy. Ethan brought their children back to live with him. I took some food to them when they first arrived. The poor children looked so lost. I should’ve gone back to visit.”
“You’ve had your hands full with the new baby.”
“That’s true, but it’s no excuse for being a poor neighbor. I hope their church has been helping.”
They rounded a bend in the road, and Clara couldn’t see the house behind them anymore. A large cornfield blocked her view. The sea of green leaves and golden tassels danced in the wind making rattling, hissing sounds as the stiff leaves slapped against each other.
Would Ethan slap Micah?
The boy was so small, and Ethan was a big man. He could easily hurt the child. She dreaded to think Micah was being punished because she was the one who saw him jump on Myrtle. She had been so startled that she had immediately called Faith to the window. If only she had remained silent. The boy would have gone home, and no one would have known about his actions. But that wouldn’t have been right, either.
She prayed Ethan would deal with Micah kindly, but not knowing troubled her. The Amish were gentle people. She knew that, but evil could lurk among the good. Her uncle was proof of that. Her heart started pounding painfully as she remembered his cruelty.
She stopped in the roadway and clasped her arms across her middle as she closed her eyes. Images of her uncle raising his wooden rod to strike her flashed into her mind and she braced for the blow. Was Micah’s uncle as cruel as hers had been? It wasn’t likely, but what if he was?
“What is it, Clara?”
Clara opened her eyes and saw the concern on her friend’s face. She drew a shaky breath. That part of her life was over. She and her three sisters were safe. Their uncle couldn’t hurt them anymore. She had to remind herself of that fact every day. After years of fear and meekness, of striving desperately to please her uncle and failing, it was sometimes hard to believe God had finally answered her prayers. Was Micah praying for deliverance from his uncle’s wrath, too? She had to know.
She couldn’t leave without knowing.
“Faith, would you mind if we called it quits early today?”
“Of course not. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. My sisters are putting up corn this afternoon. I know they could use my help. I’ll walk home from here.”
“It will take more than one day to put up corn for your family. Take tomorrow off, too. Why don’t we get together again on Saturday?”
Clara took two steps backward. She wanted to race back to the Gingerich farm, but she didn’t want to arouse Faith’s suspicions. “Are you sure you want me to come back? We’ve only a few more hours of spinning to do, and then we’ll be done with this year’s fleece.”
“Please do come. I’ve enjoyed working with you so much. I want one last day together even if it’s only for a few hours.”
“All right. I’ll see you Saturday morning.” Clara turned and hurried back the way they had come, but instead of going home, she stopped at the bend in the road that led to Ethan’s farm.
She rubbed her damp palms on the sides of her dress. What reason would she give for returning? She could hardly tell a man she’d just met that she feared he beat his children. Even if she saw him punishing Micah, what right did she have to interfere? None.
Yet how could she stand by and do nothing? It was partly her fault the boy was in trouble. If only she knew what was happening to the child.
Ethan might be a kind and fair guardian. Her Amish faith dictated that she see only the good in every man until shown otherwise. She certainly had no business suspecting Ethan Gingerich of evil, but she had to know that Micah was all right. Her life and her sister’s lives might have been so much better if someone had cared enough to check on them.
None of them had admitted their abuse to anyone. They had been too ashamed to speak of it. Only her sister Lizzie had been strong enough to break the pattern by running away. She found a wonderful home for them with their grandfather. She freed them all and saved Clara from being forced to marry an odious man.
She shuddered at the thought of what her life might have been like without her sister’s bravery. God put more courage in Lizzie’s little finger than Clara had in her whole body.
She glanced at the cornfield separating her from Ethan’s home. She might not be brave, but a child’s welfare could be at stake. She couldn’t turn away from that.
Gathering what small courage she possessed, Clara moved off the road and into the cornfield beside the lane. The tall green stalks would hide her from view. If her suspicions were groundless, Ethan need never know she had come back to check on him.
The corn patch ended a few dozen yards from the back of the house. With her heart pounding in her