Love's Abundant Harvest Page 12

  The men arranged the coffin, carefully setting it on a wooden stand. Lucy took slow steps until she stood within touching distance. Sam’s pasty, gaunt face was as white as the simple undergarments he was wearing.

  Caleb shifted his eyes. “Do you want these doors open or closed? Visitors will be coming by after seeing the wagon with the coffin.”

  Lucy looked up and shrugged. “That’s fine. But what I really need is for you to pray for this day and the funeral tomorrow to be over and done.” She paused. “I know that sounds terrible, but I can’t ask you to pray for something that’s not in my heart.” She tried to smile.

  Caleb didn’t say a word to her; he just nodded and closed his eyes to pray. His words were as kind and thoughtful as she’d expected them to be, and her soul felt a little lighter.

  “Danke. It helps to have the words to take me through the day.” She twined her fingers with Manny’s. Proper or not, she needed to feel the warmth of his hand before the first of the mourners came. She imagined those in the community would come in and out all evening.

  A moment later Lucy pulled away and glanced at the two wooden pieces on hinges that folded down to reveal the body from the chest up. Sam’s eyes were shut, but she could picture the coldness in them. How selfishly glad she was not to see the coldness in those piercing eyes anymore.

  She was ashamed of these conflicting thoughts, but only for a moment. Sam had made her feel worthless, no matter what she thought or did. His power over her had died with him. She resolved to be stronger and not let anyone tell her what kind of person she was or what her worth was.

  Manny came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe this is enough for now.”

  She felt his hot breath against her cheek, and her nerve grew a little stronger. She nodded. “Can you shut those?” She pointed to the two pieces of wood, not wanting to be face-to-face with Sam ever again.

  Manny obliged and then led her out the door. “Let the others do everything today. You know they want to, and it’s easier on you if they take some of the burden.”

  She smiled, and he frowned.

  “I didn’t expect to see a smile from you today. Am I that interesting?” A smile flickered on his lips and then disappeared as if he didn’t feel it was appropriate.

  Most others would be consoling her for a life event she had secretly been hoping for. She’d been a hypocrite long enough. It was time to admit the truth to someone, and who better than Manny? He knew some of it already, but probably didn’t know what to do with the awkward situation. Now that Lucy thought about it, neither did she.

  “Do you think I’m awful for not mourning as I should?” There, she’d said it. But she didn’t feel any better. Her confession put a damper on his effort to lighten the conversation. But she knew well enough that he would understand. He always seemed to.

  “There is a time and place for everything, even in your case. It’s not honest to pretend something you’re not, but not everyone understands what you’ve been through—especially those from other communities.” The twinkle in his blue eye warned her to watch her actions and words. No matter how much had happened to get her to this place, she needed to remember that counsel, today of all days.

  “I understand, and danke for telling me. I’ve had a difficult time working through my emotions anyway, but now, with the way everything happened, sometimes I feel responsible.” She was saying too much and probably not making any sense, but she had to get it off her chest. She guessed she was telling him because he was safe, not part of anything that happened, oblivious to what her life had really been like.

  But when she looked up and into his eyes, she rose to attention. His jaw tightened, and his face was intense. “Don’t ever say that, Lucy. Nothing was your fault.” He took her hand, which caught her attention. “If anything, he should have gotten you and his baby out of danger’s way, not tried to save his precious farm.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry, I get angry when I think of how things could have gone.”

  “Manny, you ready?” Caleb gave them both a serious stare. Lucy knew they shouldn’t be so close, whispering, with him holding her hand. But it was innocent. Caleb would know that.

  As Manny and Caleb left, Rosy walked into the room and glanced at the coffin. She asked, “Does Sam’s family know about his death? Do you think anyone will come?”

  “He never spoke much of his family. I haven’t heard word from anyone.” Lucy wouldn’t know what to do with Sam’s family, people she’d never met. Certainly she wouldn’t recognize them if she saw them.

  Frieda walked in with a determined look on her face with the Budget newspaper in hand. “They were up north, but not that far. I had heard Sam’s first wife speak about how she only saw them one time at a wedding and never again.”

  Rosy took the newspaper and started reading the latest news from all over the country. Word had gotten around over the past few days, and the Budget was a sure way to share news of any kind, especially about a death. “Well, I see the announcement, but if they have read it, they haven’t made contact that we know of, jah?”

  “I doubt they would. Unfriendly people, or maybe they were just not happy with Sam for some reason.” Frieda turned to Lucy. “You never heard a word about them, eh?”

  “Nee, I asked only once, and he gave me a look I never forgot. From then on neither of us talked about his family.” The more she opened up about these things, the more she realized how bad it truly was. She had gotten used to it, brainwashed, maybe, into believing this life was what she deserved.

  “Well, I guess we wait and see what happens tonight and tomorrow. They might show up.” Rosy’s positive attitude was a good balance with Frieda’s negative one, and Lucy was somewhere in the middle. She couldn’t imagine not going to a sibling’s funeral, but then this was Sam. Nothing surprised her when it came to him.

  Lucy went to bed early, exhausted yet again. By the time she woke up next morning the haus was buzzing with commotion. Lucy quickly dressed and prepared herself mentally for the day. It was a strange experience to go to a funeral for someone she disliked. And what was worse, that person was her husband.

  A knock on her door vaulted her into the moment.

  Her mamm stood at her door attired in black from head to toe. “Are you ready?” She took a step back. “You look fine. Grab your shawl. You never know if you might get a chill sometime during the day. Unpredictable weather . . . ”

  She went on, but Lucy’s thoughts were elsewhere. Few had come to view the body. Only the deacon, minister, and bishop came, along with a couple who offered their condolences. It made her realize how isolated she and Sam were, and she was saddened at the time she’d lost. As she walked through the great room with Verna, she saw a sprinkle of people there with others still coming in.

  “This is what community is about,” Mamm told Nellie, who had a dull look on her face. Due to the day’s meaning, their community was faithful to one another.

  “Jah, there have been a few others. I’m glad to see that, no matter what the circumstances.”

  Nellie was right—there was no denying it—but it was an awkward situation for her any way you looked at it. Lucy didn’t know these people like she should. A visit to church once a week with little conversation wasn’t what it should have been, but Sam was set on doing his own farming and attending church like a revolving door. But this was how it was supposed to be. This was what she�
�d been missing.

  Benches were set up in rows that filled Frieda’s large home for visitors after the funeral. Minister Eben followed the bishop, with the deacons behind them. “My condolences” and “I’m sorry” were repeated over and over again. Lucy was glad to have her mamm by her side accepting support from many people Lucy didn’t know. They most definitely didn’t know her, simply because she hadn’t been allowed to reach out to them, to join any quilting bees or do anything with the other women in the community.

  After the last amen, the mourners filed out. The buggies were filled and following one after another. When they arrived, each was marked with chalk, and the coffin was placed in the hearse.

  Her mamm walked up and stood beside. “By the way, Manny and Caleb took care of dressing Sam. I thought you’d want to know.”

  Lucy lost her breath for a moment. “Danke. I’d forgotten. How sad there is no family for Sam.” She dropped her hands on her lap, actually feeling a bit of remorse for the man.

  Her mamm looked out the window without batting an eye. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that would be an untruth, so I won’t. We reap what we sow.”

  As they made their way behind the horse-drawn carriage, Lucy felt the solemn, impressive weight of buggies following them. She was touched that these people had helped after the explosion and now were showing their presence during this humbling time in her life. She wondered how much influence her mamm and mammi had in it, but it didn’t matter. Her heart fairly burst with gratitude as her body warmed with the thought.

  When they reached the cemetery, the grave was already dug, and all was quiet. The bishop usually read a hymn, but he was under the weather, so Minister Eben gave the sermon, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. No one spoke of the dead. The Creation story was told, and the resurrection of the dead—all good thoughts—but nothing stirred Lucy’s heart, and her guilt got the best of her.

  She drank in every word. She could feel the ice melting away . . . that guard she’d put up to keep her safe from Sam. Maybe at some point she could forgive him, and the ice would turn to harmless water and trickle away.

  “Amazing Grace” filled the air even though it was prayed in silence. Then all separated back to their buggies to share a meal at Frieda’s haus.

  Lucy caught Manny’s eye as he strolled along with Emma. He nodded and kept walking. Then she realized her mamm was talking to her, and she appreciated what she was saying.

  Mamm straightened her black kapp. “These are the times we are reminded that our focus should not be so much on this world as on what is yet to come.”

  Ablast of hot fire shot down the aisle. Horses whinnied, stamping to get out of the stable that would become their coffin. Lucy leaned forward, tried to run, but her feet were heavy as sacks of corn. She felt her belly, aching with child. This couldn’t be happening again. She didn’t have the strength. The baby didn’t either.

  A rafter broke away. The supporting beam came crashing down as spitting fire hit the cement. Lucy turned to run, leaving the animals. How could she? It was her and the baby or the livestock. Hot tears streaked her face. A blur ahead formed into a man’s figure, standing tall, but he didn’t move. She screamed to him, but he didn’t respond. The fire drew close, enveloping him until he turned to ash.

  Lucy sat up, leaning on her elbows, unable to sit straight with the babe. Putting her hands on either side of her, she pushed herself up and looked around. Mamm was first in her room. She instinctively put a hand on hers.

  “You’re all right. Take a breath.” Mamm squeezed her hand, and she let the air out of her lungs. Frieda, Rosy, and Nellie came in one by one. Mamm stared into Lucy’s eyes and then looked her over from head to toe.

  “Bad dream, honey?” Rosy’s soft voice drew Lucy in.

  Lucy rubbed her throat. The lingering ache sent her mind going through the entire dream all over again.

  Rosy stroked her hand. “You need some warm herbal tea.”

  “Nothing hot.” Her voice sounded perfectly fine. It was all in her head. That horrible dream had not only taken her back to that horrid night but also mystified her with the man, as if he was waiting for her or for something to happen. The bigger question was who was he? Sam came to mind. It was too easy to accuse him, but it fit, with him standing there waiting for her to be swallowed by the fire. Frieda moved in closer. “You’re sweating. Must have been some dream.”

  Nellie gave Frieda a cold cloth to wipe Lucy’s forehead. “And you’re pale as a ghost.” She tilted her head and smiled. “What can we get you, hon?”

  “Just some water is fine.” She couldn’t help but think of Manny. As much as she loved her mammi and her friends, all she wanted was to be with him. The dream had exhausted her as if she’d actually lived it. Her heartbeat finally slowed to a normal rhythm.

  “I’ll make you some cold tea.” Rosy gave her a comforting smile and walked out with Nellie and Verna. Lucy leaned back as she listened to their boots tapping on the hardwood floor.

  She watched Frieda bustle around in her room, pulling up the shades and rummaging in a dresser drawer for a hanky. She walked over and handed it to Lucy. “Why did you move here with me, Mammi?”

  Mammi stopped and gave her a long look. “When you left to live with that godforsaken man—”

  “Mammi, you shouldn’t speak about Sam that way.” She sighed, knowing what a hypocrite she was. She didn’t say it out loud, and Mammi was bold enough to say what was on her mind, but they were no different.

  Mammi glanced over at her. “You hated that man, and who wouldn’t, the way he treated you?” She pressed her palms together and laid them on her lap as if to keep in the anger she must be fighting, judging by the color her cheeks were turning.

  “We shouldn’t talk of the dead this way.” Lucy bent her head in hopes she would stop. It wasn’t that anything she was saying wasn’t true, just that it went against everything their religion told them to do.

  “The whole community let out a deep breath when Sam died, I can promise you that. We’re all so polite, no one would ever say it, but you know as well as I do that he won’t be missed.” Mammi let out a breath through her nose and pursed her lips. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not, and I will not lie.”

  Lucy didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t a word Mammi said that Lucy hadn’t thought at one time or another, but to hear it out loud, with Sam only gone for a few days . . . it just didn’t sit well. “It’s disrespectful, Mammi.”

  “You’re a good wife even to the end and past it.” Mammi leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You’re a better person than me. For that matter, better than most.” She stood and peered down at Lucy. “How about some toast with my plum jam?”

  “That sounds gut.”

  It didn’t help—nothing did—but she knew her mammi wanted to do something to make her feel better. They all did. If she was to follow custom, there would be a year of mourning, lasting until long after her baby was born. She had Mammi, Rosy, and Nellie, but that wasn’t what her heart desired. Lucy wanted to be normal, or at least as normal as possible, which meant having a husband. She didn’t remember what that felt like or looked like anymore. The life she’d lived those couple of years with Sam seemed like an eternity, full of strife.

  The thought of raising a child with no father in the picture saddened her. Her daed would be a wonderful dawdi, but with his health, how often would he see the baby? O
nce she starting thinking about it, what did she have to keep her here? Now that Sam was gone, she and her mammi could go back to Tennessee.

  “Mammi.”

  She stopped at the door and turned back to Lucy.

  “Would you ever want to go back to Tennessee?”

  Mammi turned completely around and took a few steps closer to her. “I hadn’t given it much thought; we’ve settled in here pretty well.” She studied Lucy’s eyes. “I should say that I have. Maybe you will too, now that things are different.” She lifted a finger and closed one eye. “You might have more of a reason to stay than you think.”

  Lucy nodded, feeling defeated, but her spirits lifted at the thought of being with her sisters. Maybe she was being too hasty. She would miss the girls, friendships that her mammi had made with two incredible women. But even though they had each other, it seemed lonely not to have a husband to grow old with.

  “Lucy!” Her mamm’s voice carried up the stairs. “You have company.”

  The tap-tap of her shoes coming closer had Lucy wondering who had come to call. Nellie peeked her head through the door. “Manny’s here.” She smiled brightly and then glanced at Frieda. “Well, help her get ready.”

  Mammi jumped to attention and started gathering Lucy’s clothes. When she got to the bed, she turned sideways at Lucy. “I told you there might be a reason to stay.”

  Lucy’s jaw dropped. Why these three women thought she and Manny could ever get together she didn’t know. He’d been over mourning for some time and surely had someone in mind. The added attention he’d given her was just his way. He was kind to everyone she’d ever seen him with. She would not get her hopes up, and she wouldn’t let the girls either. It wasn’t proper. Not right now, anyway.

  “What are you daydreaming about?” Verna had come back upstairs, and her voice brought Lucy back to a reality she didn’t want to be in. As much as she wanted to see Manny, maybe it was best not to grow any more attached to him than she already was.