slipped out quietly.
It was all right, he assured himself. It had been a natural enough question for Beth to ask, once she’d gotten over the initial shock. There was no reason to think she suspected James of anything wrong.
He’d need to keep it that way. His loyalty to his friend, his deep longing to protect Beth and Benjy...everything combined to insist that whatever his suspicions, they should never be spoken.
By the time Mamm and Grossmammi arrived to take Janie home, Beth had managed to convince herself that she was calm. Unhappily, she was aware that her composure was like a thin sheet of ice, ready to shatter at the slightest breath. She forced a smile and went outside to greet her mother and grandmother. Grossmammi was already chatting with Janie and Benjy, which probably meant that she was having one of her good days, living in the present instead of the past.
“It’s gut to see you, Grossmammi.” She reached for the line to clip the harness to the hitching rail, but Janie got to it first. Benjy, very intent, helped her to latch it.
Her mother slid down, not waiting for a helping hand, and landed lightly on her feet. With her rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, she didn’t look like the mother of five.
They both reached up to help Grossmammi down. She pressed her cheek against Beth’s for a moment, but her attention was on her great-grandchildren.
“My, you two look as if you’ve been having a fine time. What have you been doing?”
“We played ball. Daniel did, too. And we gathered the eggs,” Benjy said. “I found three.”
“Gut job.” Grossmammi patted his cheek. “How many did Janie find?”
It was apparent that number was beyond him, so Janie helped him out, whispering the number in his ear.
“Eight,” he said proudly.
“We’ll have scrambled eggs for breakfast, ain’t so?” Bethany was pleased that she was able to sound almost normal. She glanced from her grandmother to her mother with a question in her face, but Mammi could only shrug, probably meaning it was hard to tell how long her grandmother would stay grounded.
Mammi lifted a basket down from under the buggy seat. “Who wants a whoopie pie?”
“Me, me!” Benjy bounced up and down, and Janie looked as if she would as well, if not for remembering that she was fourteen now.
“Let’s go in and fetch a napkin, and then you two can have yours out on the porch while Mammi gets us grown-ups a cup of coffee.”
Beth put an arm around her grandmother as they walked into the house together with Mammi following. It took only a few minutes to settle the kinder with juice and whoopie pies. Then the adults gathered at the table with their treat.
Grossmammi watched as she nibbled at the edge of hers. “Better eat it,” she said. “You’ve lost too much weight in the past month.”
“Yah.” She couldn’t deny it, since the bodice of her dress hung loose on her. “I don’t have much appetite.”
“Natural enough,” Mammi said. “But you must try. Take a real bite now.”
Beth obeyed, inhaling the scent of chocolate and savoring the sweet, creamy filling. To her surprise, it actually went down without sticking in her throat.
Grossmammi watched her with satisfaction, her face alert. Mammi had noticed the alertness, too, because she relaxed a bit.
Her grandmother focused on Beth’s face. “Now, tell us what has you upset today.”
Beth narrowly escaped biting her tongue. How did Grossmammi know? Still, when she was alert, there was no getting away from her.
“Nothing,” Beth said, hoping she sounded convincing. “I’m not upset.”
“Ach, Bethany, tell that to someone who doesn’t know you like we do.” Her mother joined in. “Komm now, tell us. Benjy said that Daniel Miller had been here. Did that upset you?”
“No, no, of course not. He just wanted to let me know about how things are at the store.” She hesitated. “Well, and talk about the future, but I... I wasn’t ready to do that. He might have waited.”
Mammi clucked her tongue. “That’s natural enough for him, ain’t so? After all, you are his partner now. He’ll want to know how things are going to change.”
“I suppose so.” She felt a flicker of resentment. She’d expected Mammi to be on her side. Not that there were any sides to it. She’d have to focus on business soon. Just not today. “Well, I can stop by the store sometime soon, but I don’t know much about running it. James always said I had enough to do with the orchard and the garden and Benjy to look after.”
“Yah, that’s so.” Mammi still studied her face. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can help with?”
First Daniel and now Mammi wanting to help. But they couldn’t, even if she told them, and she didn’t intend to do that.
“Nothing,” she said firmly.
Mammi rose. “I won’t tease you to tell me anything you’d rather not. Just remember we’re here, and there are lots of people who love you and want to help.”
Grossmammi reached out to touch Beth’s cheek. Her grandmother had experienced loss, she knew, and Grossmammi’s expression was tinged with sorrow as she looked at Beth. “And God is always ready to listen, ain’t so?”
Beth managed a nod, tears stinging her eyes. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to pray about this burden. Not now. Now she needed to be alone long enough to figure out how this had happened to her.
Beth still had her grandmother’s words in her mind a few days later when she and Benjy walked up to the orchard together. Grossmammi’s advice was good, but Beth’s prayers seemed to bounce around until she wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the Lord or to herself. She prayed for acceptance, and in the next breath she was railing at James for his deception or wondering how she’d failed that he had turned away from her.
“Look, Mammi, look!” Benjy tugged her along, pointing. “Look at the red apples. Is it time to pick them?”
“Some of them.” She steered him away from the McIntosh. They wouldn’t be ready for a few more weeks. “Look at that tree. Those apples are called Honeycrisp. Some of them are ready to pick.”
Running ahead, Benjy threw his arms around the tree in a hug. He looked up into the branches, standing on tiptoe to reach a ripe apple. “Can I pick it? Can I, Mammi?”
“Yah, for sure. Let me show you how.” She closed her hand over his small one. “Twist it just a little while you pull gently. Like this.”
The apple came away in Benjy’s hand, and he held it up with a delighted smile. “I did it.”
Her heart swelled with love. “You did. See if you can reach some other ripe ones. I’ll hold that one.” She picked up the corners of her apron to form a makeshift basket.
Benjy darted off in search of others he could reach, and she picked a few more, inhaling the rich apple scent. It seemed to carry with it a score of memories—her little brothers vying to see how many they could pick, and Daniel, always kind, boosting the smaller ones up to reach.
Funny, that the orchard didn’t carry memories of James. He hadn’t been part of that early childhood, when Daniel as a near neighbor had naturally been there to help her uncle with the picking. James, living with his widowed mother in the center of town, had had no place there. Even after they bought Onkel