Courting Ruth. Emma Miller
even though he was staring right at her.
“If you won’t, I will,” Miriam cried, throwing up both hands.
And before Ruth could utter more than a feeble “Ne,” her sister scrambled around the table, hitched up her skirt and apron, and jumped on the back of the scooter.
“I want a ride, too!” Susanna declared, bouncing up and down.
Ruth cut her gaze to Miriam as she watched her boldly wrap her arms around Eli’s waist. “Miriam,” she ordered, “get off—”
Eli winked at Ruth, and the motorbike took off down the drive, out of the auction and onto the street, leaving her standing there looking foolish and Susanna jumping up and down for joy.
“Oh! Oh!” Susanna clapped her hands. “Did you see Miriam ride?”
“Help me load the rest of our things into the buggy. She’ll be back in a minute,” Ruth said, a lump in her throat.
She told herself she was upset that Miriam was doing something she shouldn’t be, but she knew in her heart of hearts it was that boy again. He was making her feel this way. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
As Ruth walked to the buggy, trying to look casual, she glanced in her aunt’s direction. Aunt Martha had her head close together with Dorcas, and the two were talking excitedly. That was definitely not good. Miriam’s poor decision would be all over Kent County by supper time. And there would be no doubt who would be held accountable. Ruth would.
She was the oldest left at home. Susanna and Miriam were her responsibility. They had not been baptized into the church yet, but she had. She should have known better than to let Miriam do something so foolish, so not Plain.
Ruth was just checking the horse’s harness when she heard the growl of the motorbike as it grew closer again. Stroking the old mare’s broad neck, she turned to see Eli and Miriam riding straight at her. A moment later, her sister was holding three ice-cream cones in the air and trying to get off the scooter without showing too much bare leg. Eli was laughing and talking to her as if they were old friends.
“He bought us ice cream.” Miriam licked a big drip of chocolate off her cone and handed the vanilla one to Susanna. “What do you say, Susanna?”
“Danke,” Susanna chirped.
“And here’s one for you.” Miriam had a twinkle in her eye as she held out the ice cream to Ruth. “I know you like strawberry.”
“No, thank you,” Ruth said stiffly. “I don’t want any.”
Miriam shoved the cone into her hand. “Don’t be such a prune,” she whispered. “Eat it. Mam wouldn’t want you to waste food.”
Ruth glared at Eli as she felt the cold cream run down her fingers.
“I see Miriam got back in one piece,” Dorcas called as she hurried across the driveway toward Ruth. “Mam saw her and—”
“Here.” Flustered, Ruth handed her cousin the ice-cream cone. “You like ice cream. You eat it.”
Eli looked right at Ruth, laughed and roared away on his noisy machine.
Chapter Three
Ruth glanced at Mam and then turned her attention back to Blackie, their driving gelding, and eased him onto the shoulder of the busy road to allow a line of cars to pass. Blackie was a young horse, and Ruth didn’t completely trust him yet, not like she did old Molly, so she liked to keep a sharp eye out for traffic.
“So why did you wait so long to tell me about Irwin?” Her mother’s soft voice carried easily over the regular clip-clop of Blackie’s hooves on the road and the rumble of the buggy wheels. The rain, which had held off all day, was coming down in a spattering of large drops.
Miriam had gone ahead with Anna, Susanna and Johanna and her children to the quilting frolic at Lydia Beachy’s house in the big buggy, leaving her and Mam to follow in the smaller courting buggy. Dat had brought this single-seat carriage from Pennsylvania with him twenty-six years ago. It was just the right size for two, perfect for private conversation. Ruth had counted on being able to voice her concerns about Irwin, and she wanted to tell Mam about this afternoon’s incident with Eli Lapp and his ridiculous motorbike before anyone else did.
“Ruth?” Mam pressed.
“I meant to, but…” An ominous roll of thunder sounded off to the west, and she flicked the reins to urge Blackie into a trot as she pulled back onto the road. “But Samuel came last night and then there was no chance to talk with you alone and today we were both gone all day.”
“I see. Well, Irwin wasn’t in school today.”
“He wasn’t?”
“I asked three of Irwin’s cousins why he wasn’t there and got three different excuses,” Mam said.
Ruth sighed. “I don’t want to accuse him. I just thought it was strange that he’d run away like that. I suppose he could have seen the fire and been trying to put it out.” She hesitated. “But since Irwin is always making mischief…”
“Losing his whole family in a fire, coming to Delaware to live with people he hardly knows, it’s no wonder he acts out.” Mam folded her arms in a gesture that meant no nonsense. “I won’t judge him until we know the truth, and neither should you.”
Ruth didn’t want to argue with Mam, but neither was she going to hold her tongue when she had something to say. “He did set Samuel’s outhouse on fire last month. He gave Toby a black eye and you sent him home twice from school for fighting this month.”
Mam frowned. “The boy has a lot of anger inside. He needs love, not accusations and false judgments.”
“But if he makes a habit of playing with matches…”
“Where’s your charity? In my experience, the wildest boys turn out to be the most dependable men.”
Ruth winced. “You know I don’t mean to be uncharitable. I just thought you should know what I saw with my own eyes.”
“And rightly so.” Mam nodded. “Now that I do know, I’ll handle it.”
When Ruth didn’t comment, Mam continued. “The school can be repaired, but if people start talking about Irwin, the damage to a child’s soul may not be so easy to mend.”
“You’re right, but what if he’s a danger to others?”
“Have faith, Ruth. I’ll do my part, the Beachys will do theirs, and God will do the rest.”
“What will you do?” Her heart went out to the boy, as unlikable as he was, but they had to think of the other children’s safety, too. As much as she valued her mother’s judgment, she had to be satisfied that they weren’t taking unnecessary chances to protect Irwin.
“I’ll talk to him privately.” Mam pursed her mouth. “Last night, Samuel confided that he suspects his twins know something about the fire, something they were afraid to tell.”
“What made him think that?”
“Samuel said it wasn’t what they said—it was what they didn’t say.” Mam squeezed her hand. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Not to worry.”
She glanced at her mother, wanting to believe her, wishing her own faith in others came as easily as it seemed to come to Mam. “You always say that.”
“And it’s always true, isn’t it? Things usually work out for the best.”
Her mother smiled at her, and Ruth was struck by how young and pretty she still was at forty-six. Tonight, she was wearing a lavender dress with her black apron, and her black bonnet was tied over her starched white Kapp. No one would guess by looking at Mam’s waistline that she’d given birth to seven children. “You must have been a beautiful bride,