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She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“He’s doesn’t know how,” Marianne whispered.
“That’s what you think, little sister. Grandmother taught me to do it when I was your age.”
He could see Marianne didn’t believe him. He had trouble keeping a straight face. “It’s true. She made me sit in the corner and fill her hoop with one phrase over and over again. Her hoop was much bigger than yours, Greta.”
“And what was that phrase?” Greta asked.
“I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie. It took me four hours to finish it to her satisfaction. The lesson stuck.”
Greta chuckled. “I think I would like to meet your grandmother.”
“She lives with her widowed sister near Bird-in-Hand. You can ask her about the story. She’ll tell you it’s true.”
“I don’t doubt you, but I was actually asking Marianne if she knew how to cross-stitch?”
“Do you?” He looked at his sister.
She shook her head.
“I’m sure Greta can show you how it’s done.”
“I’d be delighted. It’s easy. These are panels that will go down the center of a quilt my sisters and I are stitching.”
“Switch places with me.” He rose and let his sister slide across the seat to sit beside Greta. She was soon engrossed in Greta’s instructions, leaving him free to watch both of them.
Within a few minutes, Marianne had the hoop and the needle and thread on her lap. “What if I make a mistake? I don’t want to ruin it.”
“We all make mistakes. It would be a shame not to learn something new because you’re afraid you won’t get it right. Besides, you will not ruin it. I can easily undo the stitches.”
Marianne’s efforts were tentative at first, but under Greta’s gentle guidance, she soon grew more confident. She was actually talking, even if her voice was still a hoarse whisper. Toby was surprised when the driver turned off the highway into the parking lot of a small diner. Were they in Van Wert already? An hour had gone by very quickly.
Arles turned to address his passengers. “I’d like everyone to be back in the van in thirty minutes. That should give us all plenty of time to eat and walk about a little. Mr. Barkman, how are you doing?”
“Well enough. I don’t imagine the food will be good at a place like this.”
“It’s got to be better than the hospital food,” Toby said as he slipped into his coat.
The driver got out and came around to open the door. The Coblentz family piled out quickly. Morris stayed where he was so Toby got out next and held out his hand for his sister. She took it and stepped carefully onto the pavement. He was worried that this outing would be too much for her, but she seemed to be doing okay.
He moved back to let Greta out. She was about to step down when her uncle rose. His cane slid to the side between her feet. Greta tripped and fell headlong out of the van. Toby lunged to catch her.
Chapter Five (#ulink_a59b91af-86f0-587e-818d-869d1e9a06d4)
Finding herself in Toby’s arms took Greta’s breath away. Strong and rock steady, he held her as if she weighed nothing at all. She gripped his shoulders to get her feet under her. The feel of his firm muscles beneath her fingers sent a rush of excitement through her veins. It tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she looked up at him.
Electricity seemed to shimmer between them like the glow of distant lightning. His dark brown eyes widened in surprise. Did he feel it, too? She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his expressive face.
“Are you all right?” Marianne asked.
The child’s whispery voice brought Greta back to the present. What was wrong with her? No man had ever had this effect on her.
She slowly withdrew from Toby’s embrace. His cheeks blossomed with a dull red color. Was it her imagination, or was he reluctant to let her go?
He spoke to Morris. “You must be more careful.”
Morris pushed out of his seat. “It was an accident. What you want me to say?”
After stepping down from the van, he looked at the people who stood staring at him. He straightened and his frown deepened. “I said it was an accident.”
“I’m fine, Onkel. Do not you worry yourself about it,” Greta said quietly.
“He should say he’s sorry,” Marianne muttered.
“And your parents should teach you not to disrespect your elders,” Morris grumbled.
Tears welled up in Marianne’s eyes, and she pressed her face against Toby’s side.
“Why she crying? What did I say?” Morris demanded. Everyone was still clustered around the side of the van.
Toby’s face reflected his deep pain as he gazed at his sister. “Our parents were killed in a fire a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How was I to know? My doctor said I have to walk.” Morris shouldered his way through the onlookers and began walking along the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
“I should go with him in case he has trouble,” Greta said.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Toby offered.
She shook her head. “I’m sure Marianne would like a soda or a cup of tea.”
“All right. Can I order anything for you?”
“I would dearly love a cup of coffee.”
Greta took a seat on the bench out front where she could keep an eye on Morris. It was growing colder. A bank of gray clouds shut out the sun in the west. She buttoned the top buttons of her coat and pulled on her gloves. She was surprised when Marianne sat down beside her.
“Don’t you want to go inside?” Greta asked.
“Nee, people stare at me.” Her voice was weaker than before. Greta could see how tired she was.
“In that case, please join me. I’m not really hungry, but I may have some dessert when my uncle is finished with his walk.”
She looked around for Toby and saw him waiting beside the door with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. She motioned toward the diner with her head. He nodded his understanding. She would watch over Marianne while he went in.
“What sorts of desserts do you like, Marianne?”
“Ice cream and pie. I hear a kitten. There it is.” Marianne pointed toward Morris.
A small calico cat was rubbing against his leg. He nudged it away with his cane, but the cat came back, stood on its hind legs and pawed at his trousers. It began meowing loudly.
“Your uncle must like cats.”
“As far as I know, he doesn’t care for any living thing except himself.”
Greta bit her lip as she realized she shouldn’t have spoken like that in front of the child. She shouldn’t even have such thoughts. Her feelings about her uncle were hard to hide, but he was ill. He deserved some kindness although she wasn’t sure she had any to offer.
Morris pushed the cat away and walked on. Greta glanced at Marianne. “I like ice cream, too. Chocolate is my favorite. But when it’s cold outside like this I like pumpkin pie with whipped topping.”
Marianne pulled away and wrinkled her nose.
Greta laughed. Cupping her fingers under her chin, she tapped her cheek with one finger in mock concentration. “I think you are someone who likes coconut pie.”
Shaking her head, Marianne stuck out her tongue.
“Strawberry rhubarb?” Greta glanced toward her uncle, keeping one eye on him while she engaged Marianne in conversation. He bent to scratch the cat’s head.
“Peach,” Marianne stated in a harsh whisper. Greta wasn’t sure if it was the cold or fatigue, but the girl’s voice was definitely weaker. She needed to rest it.
Just then, Toby returned bearing gifts. He held three foam cups in his hands. He set them on the end of the bench and passed them around. “Coffee for you, Greta, and hot chocolate for you, Marianne.”
“Danki.” Greta took the beverage from him.
Marianne eagerly accepted hers. He sat down and took a sip from his cup. “Not bad.”
“Delicious,” Greta added. She glanced toward Morris. He was bent over. Was he talking to the cat? The animal paced back and forth in front of him still meowing.
Greta looked down at the drink in her hands as she tried to quell the bitterness that rose in her throat. He could treat a stray cat with kindness but not his own kin.
She focused on Toby. “Your sister was telling me that she likes peach pie. I have a friend whose husband loves peach pie. His name is Levi Beachy and he makes buggies in our town. What do you do, Toby?”
“I work at a factory that builds RVs in Fort Wayne, or I did until recently. Before that, our family lived in Pennsylvania. There, I was a wood-carver, but the shop where my father and I were employed closed and we couldn’t find work. That’s why we moved to Fort Wayne. I’m not sure what I will do now, but Marianne and I will figure that out together.”
He looked at his sister as she sipped her chocolate with relish, and he smiled softly. Toby was a kind and caring brother. It made Greta miss her sisters. She would love to have them here with her now.
The cat jumped in her lap scaring the wits out of her. She jerked in fright, sloshing hot coffee on her hand. The cat ran back to her uncle. Greta saw him leaning heavily on his cane and clutching his chest.
Greta dropped her drink and hurried toward him.
“Are you all right, Onkel?” she asked when she reached his side.
“Need my...pills.” He was fumbling at his vest pocket.
Greta quickly extracted a small vial. Her fingers trembled as she opened the lid and shook a pill into his hand. He put it under his tongue.
Toby slipped his arms around the old man’s shoulders and behind his knees. He lifted him like a child, carried him to the bench and laid him down. Morris was breathing heavily. Toby looked at Greta. “Should we call an ambulance?”
“Ja.”
“Nee.” Morris shook his head. “It’s better.”
“Are you sure?” She knelt in front of him.
He gave her a sour look. “You won’t have to pay for my burial yet, Mouse.”
Greta took a deep breath and disguised her shame with a show of indifference. It was a skill she had learned well living with him. But Lizzie wouldn’t let such a jab go unanswered. Greta narrowed her eyes. “That’s good to know, Onkel. My expense account is woefully inadequate at the moment.”
That took him aback. It did her good to see his surprise. The mouse hadn’t roared, but it squeaked.
Was there any way to reach him? To make him see how hurtful his words could be? Had he really tried to make her fall out of the van, or was it an accident as he claimed? She couldn’t be sure.
When she and her sisters had lived with him, his abuse had been overt. A beating with a belt or with a wooden rod. That punishment wasn’t available to him with so many people around. She didn’t want to believe the worst of him, but she had never seen anything else.
“Help me up,” he said, reaching for her hand.
She hesitated. Why should she? Why had she even come?
A second later, she knew the answer as clearly as if God had spoken to her. She was here because it was the right thing to do. Returning evil for evil did no one any good. Taking his hand, she pulled him into a sitting position.
He sighed heavily. “I would like a cup of tea.”
She kept one hand under his elbow as he stood. Toby stayed close until she had Morris seated at a booth inside the diner. Toby and Marianne chose their own table and sat away from the group. Marianne sat next to the wall, sinking into the corner as if hiding from the world. Greta’s heart went out to her.
Morris was watching them, too. “Why does she keep her hand at the side of her face all the time? Is she looking for attention?”
“I think she is self-conscious about the scars on her neck and face. She was burned in the house fire that killed her parents.”
“They aren’t noticeable scars. She’s vain.”
Compelled to defend the sweet child, Greta glared at her uncle. “To a girl that age they must seem enormous and ghastly. She deserves our kindness not our judgment.”
He turned his attention to the waitress and ordered tea. Greta ordered a cup of soup and a slice of peach pie.
Her uncle’s color improved steadily. He soon seemed to be his old self. He complained that the tea was lukewarm and sent it back. Then he asked for a glass of ice because it arrived too hot to drink.
When he finished his tea, he rose and headed for the restrooms at the back of the diner. He stumbled and staggered sideways a step before regaining his balance and heading on. Greta caught Toby’s eye. He nodded and then indicated his sister with a glance in her direction. Greta nodded, too. Toby rose to follow her uncle while Greta moved to sit with Marianne. It was amazing how easily they communicated with only a shared look. He wasn’t like anyone she had met before. She quickly pushed her interest in him to the back of her mind.
Taking her uneaten pie as a pretense, she sat down at the same table with the child. “Would you like my pie? I don’t have room for it.”
Marianne nodded. Greta pushed the dish toward her. She folded her hands and smiled. “I have always wanted to travel to Pennsylvania. Is it pretty?”
Marianne nodded again.
“Are you and your brother visiting family there?”
“We’re going to live with my aenti.”
“You and your brother?”
