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Getting dressed was a struggle. He nearly ripped his shirt, and got so tangled in his pants he was blessed not to end up on the floor. But when it was done, and he’d succeeded in transferring himself from the bed to the wheelchair, Caleb felt as triumphant as if he’d milked the entire herd himself.
A few shoves of the wheels took him out to the kitchen. Fortunately Zeb or Daniel had left the light fixture on, since he’d never have been able to reach that. Well, he was here, and a few streaks of light were beginning to make their way over the ridge to the east.
Jessie hadn’t appeared from the daadi haus yet. The small separate house was reached by a covered walkway. It was intended to be a residence for the older generation in the family, leaving the farmhouse itself for the younger family. When he and Alice had married, Onkel Zeb had moved in. Now Jessie was staying there, at least temporarily.
Definitely temporarily. Given how irritable she made him, the sooner she left, the better.
“The kinder need me. You need me.” That was more or less what Jessie had flung at him last night. Well, he was about to prove her wrong. He’d get breakfast started on his own. Even if he couldn’t go up the stairs, he could still care for his own children.
Oatmeal was always a breakfast favorite. Fortunately, the pot he needed was stored in one of the lower cabinets. Maneuvering around the refrigerator to get the milk was more of a challenge.
Feeling pleased with himself, he poured milk into the pot without spilling a drop. Now for the oatmeal. This would need the gripper, but he’d brought it out of the bedroom with him. Congratulating himself on his foresight, he used it to open the top cupboard door. The oatmeal sat on the second shelf. Maybe he ought to have someone rearrange the kitchen a bit to make the things he’d need more accessible. In the meantime, he could make do with what he had.
Caleb reached with the gripper but found it wavering with the effort of holding it out with the whole length of his arm. A little more... He touched the cylinder of oatmeal, tried to get the prongs open and around it. Not quite... He leaned over the counter, focused on the elusive box, determined to get it down.
He reached, grabbed at it, lost his hold, sent the oatmeal tipping, spilling down in a shower of flakes. The chair rolled with the imbalance of his body. He tried to stop it, and then he was falling, the floor rushing up to meet him. He landed with an almighty thud that felt as if it shook the house.
For an instant he lay there, stunned. Then, angry with himself, he flattened his palms against the floor and tried to push himself up.
“Wait.” A flurry of steps, and Jessie was kneeling next to him, her hand on his arm. “Don’t try to move until you’re sure you aren’t hurt.”
The anger with himself turned against her, and he jerked away. “It’s not your concern.”
“Yah, yah, I know.” She sounded, if anything, a little amused. “You are fine. You probably intended to drop down on the floor.”
Apparently satisfied that he was okay, she reached across him to turn the chair into position and activate the brake. “Next time you decide to reach too far and overbalance, lock the wheels first.”
Much as he hated to admit it to himself, she was right. He’d been so eager to show her he could manage that he’d neglected the simplest precaution. While he was still fumbling for words to admit it, Jessie put her arm around him and braced herself.
“Up we go. Feel behind you for the chair to guide yourself.” Her strength surprised him, but no more than her calm reaction to what he’d done.
It took only a moment to settle himself in the chair again. He did a quick assessment and decided he hadn’t damaged himself.
Jessie, ignoring him, was already cleaning up the scattered oats. He had to admit, she was quick and capable, even if she was bossy.
“Aren’t you going to say you told me so?” he asked.
She glanced up from her kneeling position on the floor, eyes widening as if startled. Then her lips curled slightly. “I have six brothers, remember? I’ve dealt with stubborn menfolk before. There’s no use telling them.”
“I suppose one of them broke his leg, so that makes you an expert.”
“Two of the boys, actually.” She finished cleaning the oatmeal from the floor and dumped a dustpan full into the trash. “Plus a broken arm or two. And then there was the time Benjy fell from the hayloft and broke both legs.” Jessie shook her head. “He got into more trouble than the rest of them put together.”
He watched as she started over making the oatmeal. Yah, capable was the right word for Jessie. Like Onkel Zeb said, it was surprising no man had snapped her up by now. She was everything an Amish wife and mother should be. Everything Alice hadn’t been.
Caleb shoved that thought away, even as he heard voices. The others had finished the milking.
Jessie darted a quick glance at him. “No reason that anyone else needs to know what happened, ain’t so?”
He had to force his jaw to unclamp so he could produce a smile. “Denke.”
Jessie’s face relaxed in an answering grin.
Onkel Zeb came in at that moment—just in time to see them exchanging a smile. He cast a knowing look at Caleb.
Caleb started to swing the chair away, only to be stymied because the lock was on. Still, he didn’t have to meet his uncle’s gaze. He knew only too well what Zeb was thinking.
All right, so maybe Jessie wasn’t as bad as he’d made out. Maybe she was deft and willing and good with children. But he still didn’t want to have her around all the time, reminding him of Alice.
* * *
Jessie’s heart had been in her mouth when she’d heard the crash in the kitchen, knowing Caleb must have fallen. She’d been halfway along the covered walkway, and she’d dashed as fast as she could for the house door. When she’d entered the kitchen...
Well, it had taken all the control she had to put on a calm exterior. Even so, her heart hadn’t stopped thumping until he was back in the chair and she could see he was all right.
She set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him with a little more force than necessary. He was fortunate. Didn’t he realize that? He could have ended up back in the hospital again.
A stubborn man like Caleb probably wouldn’t admit it, even to himself. Any more than he’d admit that he could use her help. Apparently it would take more than a broken leg to make him willing to have her near him.
She slipped into her chair as Caleb bent his head for the prayer. Then she started the platter of fried scrapple around the table. Timothy took a couple of pieces eagerly, but she noticed that Becky didn’t serve herself any until she saw her father frown at her. Obviously Jessie wasn’t going to win Becky over easily.
Jessie’s heart twisted at the sight of that downturned little mouth. Becky looked as if she’d been meant by nature to be as sunny a child as Timothy, but life had gotten in the way. If only Jessie could help...but there was no sense thinking that, unless she could change Caleb’s mind.
The men were talking about whether or not it was too early to plant corn, all the while consuming vast quantities of food. Jessie had forgotten how much a teenage boy like Thomas could eat. He seemed a little shy, and he was all long legs and arms and gangly build. Tomorrow morning she’d fix more meat, assuming Caleb didn’t intend to chase her out even before breakfast.
“Sam says he’ll komm on Monday and help get the corn planted,” Zeb said. “Told him he didn’t need to, but there was no arguing with him.”
Jessie noticed Caleb’s hand wrapped around his fork. Wrapped? No, clenched would be a better word. His knuckles were white, and she guessed that the fork would have quite a bend in the handle when he was done.
Caleb wouldn’t believe it, but that was exactly how she felt when he refused to let her help.
Timothy tugged at her sleeve. “Can I have more oatmeal?”
“For sure.” She rose quickly, glad there was something she could do, even if it was only dishing up cereal.
“I love oatmeal.” Timothy watched her, probably to be sure she was giving her enough. “Especially with brown sugar. Lots of brown sugar,” he added hopefully.
“A spoonful of brown sugar,” Caleb said firmly, coming out of his annoyance. Jessie met his eyes, smiling, and nodded, adding a heaping spoonful of brown sugar that she hoped would satisfy both of them.
“Shall I stir it in?” she asked, setting the bowl in front of Timothy.
He shook his head vigorously. “I like it to get melty on top.” He sent a mischievous glance toward his uncle. “Onkel Daniel does, too.”
Daniel laughed. “You caught me. But I’ll need lots of energy at the shop today. New customers coming in to talk to me about a job.” He looked up at the clock. “Guess I should get on my way.”
With Daniel’s departure, everyone seemed ready to finish up. Soon they were all scooting away. Left alone with the dishes, Jessie looked after them. She’d think Becky was old enough to be helping with the dishes. Probably her desire to take over didn’t extend to the dishes. She’d certain sure been doing that at Becky’s age. But she wasn’t going to be here long enough to make any changes.
When she’d finished cleaning up the kitchen, Jessie followed the sound of voices to the living room. Becky stood backed up to the wheelchair, a hair brush in her hand. “It’s easy, Daadi. Just make two braids, that’s all.”
Jessie stood watching, oddly affected by the sight of the vulnerable nape of the child’s neck. Caleb had managed to part Becky’s long, silky hair, and now he clutched one side, looking at it a little helplessly.
Gesturing him to silence, Jessie stepped up beside him and took the clump of hair. For an instant she thought he’d object, but then he grudgingly nodded. Jessie deftly separately the hair into three strands and began to braid.
Caleb watched the movement of her fingers so intently that she imagined them warming from his gaze. If he were going to be doing this he’d have to learn...but of course he wouldn’t. He’d find some other woman to take her place once he’d gotten Jessie out of the way. Maybe he already had someone lined up.
But it couldn’t possibly be anyone who’d love these children more than she did. She’d come here loving them already because they were all that was left of Alice. Now she’d begun to love them for themselves...Timothy with his sparkling eyes and sunny smile, Becky with her heart closed off so tightly that she couldn’t let go and be a child.
Feeling Becky’s silky hair sliding through her fingers took her right back to doing the same for Alice, laughing together as she tried to get her wiggly young cousin to hold still. From the time Alice’s mother died, she’d been a part of Jessie’s family—the little sister Jessie had always longed for. To help raise Alice’s kinder, to have a second chance to do it right this time...that was all she wanted. But with Caleb in opposition, apparently it was too much to ask.
The braiding was done too quickly. She showed Caleb how to do the fastening and then stepped back out of the way while he took his daughter by the shoulders and turned her around. “There you are. All finished.”
“Denke, Daadi.” Becky threw her arms around his neck in a throttling hug. “I’m wonderful happy you’re home.”
“Me, too, daughter.” He patted her.
The thump of footsteps on the stairs announced Timothy. He jumped down the last two steps and ran into the living room. “I brushed my teeth and made my bed,” he announced. “Can I show Cousin Jessie the chickens now?”
“She’ll like that,” Caleb said solemnly. Then he gave her a slight smile. He turned to Becky. “You go along, too.”
For an instant Becky looked rebellious, but then her desire to please her daadi won, and she nodded. Timothy was already tugging at Jessie’s hand. Together they went through the kitchen and out the back door.
“The chickens are this way.” Timothy pulled her toward the coop. “Reddy is my very own hen. I want to see if she has an egg for me.”
“In a minute.” She tried to slow him down. “Look. Is that someone coming to see us?”
Jessie pointed across the pasture toward the neighboring farm. A woman and a little boy walked toward them, the boy carrying a basket by the handle. He couldn’t have been much more than four or five, and he held it carefully as if mindful of his responsibility.
“It’s Jacob and his mammi.” Timothy dropped her hand to plunge toward the new arrivals. “Look, Becky.” His sister nodded and joined him at a trot.
Jessie stood where she was and waited, unsure. This was obviously the wife of the man who’d been helping so much. It was in their barn that Caleb had been injured, and Jessie had formed the opinion that Leah and Sam were close friends of his. That being the case, she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she was likely to get.
Leah and Jacob drew nearer. Caleb’s kinder had reached them, and Timothy was chattering away a mile a minute to Jacob, who just kept nodding. Taking a deep breath, Jessie went to meet them.
“You’ll be Jessie. Alice’s cousin.” The woman’s smile was cautious. She was thirty-ish, probably about Jessie’s age, with a wealth of dark brown hair pulled back under her kapp and a pair of warm brown eyes. “Wilkom.”
“Denke.” It was nice to be welcomed, even if Leah sounded as though she were reserving judgment. Jessie smiled at the boy. “And this must be Jacob.”
The boy nodded, holding out the basket to her. “Shoofly pie,” he announced. “For you.”
“I wasn’t sure what you needed,” Leah explained. “But I thought a couple of shoofly pies were always of use.”
“They surely are,” she replied. “Denke.”
A lively controversy had already broken out between Timothy, who wanted Jacob to look for eggs with him, and Becky, who thought he’d rather play ball.
“You should do what your visitor wants,” she informed her brother loftily.
“Chickens first,” Jacob said. “Then ball.”
Jessie couldn’t help smiling as the three of them ran off toward the chicken coop. “Jacob is a man of few words, I see.”
Leah’s face took on a lively, amused look that Jessie suspected was more normal to her than her cautious greeting. “Especially when he’s around Timothy. Does that boy ever stop talking to you?”
“Only when he’s asleep.” She looked after them. “I wish Becky...”
“I know.” Leah’s voice warmed. “If only Becky would loosen up and talk about things, she’d be better off.”
“You see it, too, then. It’s not just me.”
Leah shook her head, and that quickly, the barriers between them collapsed under the weight of their common concern for the child. “No, it’s not just you. She may be worse with you, though, because...” She stopped, flushing.
“Because of my relationship with her mother. I know. I don’t blame her.”
“Still, she must learn to forgive her mother, or she’ll be carrying the burden around with her for the rest of her life.”
Leah’s insight touched Jessie to the core. “That’s what I think, too.” Unfortunately, Caleb didn’t see it that way.
Leah seemed to measure her with a serious gaze. Finally Leah gave a brisk nod. “Maybe you’ll be able to reach her while you’re here.”
“I won’t be here long enough, I’m afraid. Caleb...well, I am leaving tomorrow.”
“You mean Caleb is insisting you leave tomorrow, ain’t so?” Leah frowned. “I’ve known Caleb King all my life, so I guess I understand. Everyone knows the King men have always been unfortunate with women. It’s turned him sour, I fear.”
Jessie stared at her. “I heard something like that from the driver who brought me out from town, but I wasn’t sure whether to believe it.”
“They’ve had a string of unhappy situations with women, that’s certain sure,” Leah said. “Zeb losing his young wife, and then Caleb’s mammi running off and leaving the three young ones. And after what happened with Alice...well, it’s not surprising folks think so. Or that it’s made Caleb bitter.”
She hadn’t realized just how deep that belief ran from the way Leah spoke of it. Poor Caleb. She knew full well that his attitude wasn’t surprising. She just wished she could make a difference.
Leah was watching her, and Jessie had to say something.
“You are wonderful kind to care so much about your neighbors. I just wish we could get to know each other better.”
“Yah, I wish it, too.” Leah clasped her hand, smiling. “Maybe you could dig in your heels and refuse to leave. Then what would Caleb do? He couldn’t carry you out.”
They were still laughing at the image when the kinder came running up to them. “Can we help with the barn raising on Saturday, Leah?” Becky looked more enthusiastic than Jessie had ever seen her. “Please?”
“You’ll have to ask your daadi. If he says so, we’d certain sure like to have your help. There’s lots you can do.” Leah held out her hand to her son. “Now we must be getting home to fix lunch. We’ll komm again when we can stay longer.” She gave Jessie a warm glance. “I hope you’ll be here.”
“It was wonderful gut to meet you, anyway. And we appreciate the shoofly pies.”
Timothy grabbed the basket handle as they walked away. “Can we have some shoofly pie, Cousin Jessie?”
“I’ll help carry it,” Becky said. “Let’s ask Daadi about the barn raising.”
They headed for the house, the basket swinging between them, and Jessie followed, smiling a little. For a moment there, in her enthusiasm for the barn raising, Becky had looked like any happy little girl. Somehow the glance gave Jessie hope. That child existed in Becky, if only she could bring her out.
Caleb sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, looking a little startled at the excitement of the children. They swung the basket onto the edge of the table and rushed at their father.
