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“You’re Sadie, ain’t so?” the older woman demanded, inspecting the Englisch woman.
“That’s right.” Sadie inspected her right back, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. Apparently, she wasn’t offended by Ruth’s gruff ways.
“I’m sorry that you were in an accident,” Ruth murmured, her eyes touching on the bandage adorning Sadie’s temple. “Are you in any pain?”
“Not much. My head did ache yesterday, but today it feels a lot better.”
Ben was relieved to know that her condition was improving. Ruth quickly got herself settled into one of the spare rooms on the second floor. He showed Sadie to the room across from that. Ben discreetly moved some of his own belongings from his bedroom to the bedroom on the first floor near the kitchen. It wouldn’t do to have his room so close to their guest. Ruth gave him an approving nod as she observed his actions. It was all as it should be.
Nathaniel, of course, was thrilled to have so many people in their house. It was quite the adventure for him. Ruth was known for her skill at baking, and before they sat down for dinner the house was already filled with the aromas of cookies and a fresh pot of hearty stew. Sadie had pitched in and assisted her, and he noted that she was familiar with baking and cooking. It was interesting how the memory worked, that she could still manage to perform tasks that she had forgotten she had ever learned, but she couldn’t recall basic information about herself.
The remainder of the day and evening went past in a blur. That night, as he lay in bed, Ben considered all the events of the day. Who was after her? Just as important as that question, what had happened to Kurt? Ben fell into a restless doze after eleven. The following morning he awoke to the crowing of the rooster, feeling as if he had not slept more than a few minutes. All he wanted to do was turn over and sleep for another hour.
With a sigh, he threw back his covers. Lack of rest was irrelevant. Chores still needed to be done. The animals needed to be fed and he had a job to do. Customers who depended on him. Crushing the wish to stay in bed longer, he rose and dressed quickly in the dark, then headed out to begin the day’s work. By the time he returned from the barn, the rest of the household was awake, breakfast was on the table and strong black coffee was on the cookstove.
The next two days passed without incident. Sadie didn’t say anything, but he knew that she never relaxed her guard. She peered out the window multiple times a day. He also noted that whenever she went outside, her eyes were constantly moving.
“Sadie,” he said gently on the third day, “I will not let you come to harm.” He immediately felt like a hypocrite. How could he promise such a thing? He hadn’t even been aware enough to see that his Lydia had been terminally ill, yet here he was telling this strange woman that he would save her from an unknown danger.
Nee, not him. “Gott knows what the danger is. He can protect you.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond for a moment. Then she sighed. “If only I knew that Kurt was okay.”
He found her concern for her brother touching, and interesting, considering he was a virtual stranger to her. “Have you remembered anything, say?”
She shook her head with a grimace. “Not a thing. Although some things seem so familiar to me.”
“Jah? Give me an example.”
They were in his workshop. She moved over to stand near where he was sanding the top of a large square table. He made the mistake of looking up at her once. The way her brown hair was warmed by the sun streaming in the window made his heartbeat bump. Flushing, he forced his eyes back down to his work and kept them there.
“An example,” she mused, reminding him of their conversation. “Well, for one thing, I love to bake with Ruth. And it’s not like I’m learning. When we made dinner last night, I found myself handing her ingredients before she asked for them. I knew what the next steps were.”
He frowned, recalling the meal the night before. It was a recipe that Ruth and Sadie had put together without any written instructions. It was also, he remembered, a traditional Amish recipe. Yet she had assisted as if she had been making it her whole life.
“I wonder where you learned to make the dumplings. It’s not a recipe most Englischers would know.”
“I have no idea.”
Ben continued to consider the information long after she returned to the house. He imagined that Nathaniel had probably met her at the door. Several times in the past few days, he had stopped just to listen to the sound of Nathaniel’s laughter. His son sure did enjoy having the attention of a woman. They both did. Best not get too comfortable
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