The Roll of the Drums Read online

  Ezra and Sophia ran over to her.

  “What are we going to do today?” Sophia asked.

  “The garden needs weeding, so we’ll start there. Mamm is already out there, working without us.”

  Ruby smiled at Sophia, then looked beyond the children to Gideon and Roseanna. Gideon held Daniel in one arm and Roseanna clung to his other hand, her face sober. Ruby’s heart sank at the sight. The young girl knew, even without anyone telling her, that her mother was dying. Ruby blinked back tears that threatened to fall and took Daniel from his father’s arms. Now was the time when Gideon needed to tell his children. They needed to be prepared for the storm that would shake their young lives.

  She glanced at Gideon, his face carefully still and flat. No sign of emotion showed beyond the pinched lines around his eyes and mouth.

  “Gideon?” Ruby waited until those sad eyes turned toward her. “It’s time.”

  She had spoken softly, but Sophia had heard her. “Time for what?”

  Gideon held her gaze for a slow second, then turned toward Sophia. “I have some news for you. Let’s go into the other room and talk.”

  The children gathered around their father as he sat in Daed’s big chair. Ruby sat on a footstool nearby with Daniel on her lap. Oblivious to the growing tension in the room, Daniel stood on her knees, holding her hands while he bounced. Ruby set the baby on the floor where he teetered, the edge of her apron knotted in his hands as he balanced on his feet.

  Roseanna said, “I know what you’re going to tell us.” She lifted her chin, standing with her feet slightly apart as if she was expecting a blow.

  “What is it?” Sophia asked.

  “Mamm is—” Roseanna broke off and her shoulders sagged.

  “Mamm is very sick,” Gideon finished for her.

  “Is she going to die? Will we have a funeral? Can I wear my Sunday dress?” Sophia looked from her father to her sister as she asked the questions.

  “Hush up.” Roseanna turned toward her sister, her face twisted in a frown. “It isn’t a party. Don’t be so stupid.”

  Gideon lifted panicked eyes toward Ruby, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile. He was asking for her help.

  “Roseanna, you must be patient with Sophia,” she said.

  The eight-year-old turned her fury on Ruby. “You don’t know anything about it.” Her red face crumpled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Your mamm never died. Your mamm never got sick.” She pushed past Ruby and ran out the door.

  Gideon buried his face in his hands while Sophia and Ezra stared after their sister. Sophia had also started crying and Ruby reached for her.

  “This wasn’t the best way to tell you about your mamm,” she said, drawing the little girl close.

  “I know she is sick,” Sophia said, taking a breath. “Is she going to die today?”

  Ruby glanced at Gideon for help, but he stared at the floor, one arm around Ezra, who leaned against his knee with his thumb in his mouth.

  “We don’t know when she will pass on,” Ruby said. “That is in the Good Lord’s hands, and only he knows how soon it will be.”

  “Why is Roseanna angry with me?”

  Ruby kissed the top of her head. “She isn’t angry with you. She’s angry and sad and doesn’t know what to do.”

  Sophia nodded as if Ruby’s explanation was enough. “Can we go play?”

  Ruby glanced at Gideon again. He hadn’t moved.

  “You and Ezra can go help my mother in the garden. She would like your company.”

  Sophia took her brother’s hand and led him outside. Part of Ruby wanted to follow them, to find Roseanna and comfort the girl, but Gideon still sat in the chair, a picture of desolation. Should she leave him alone?

  “Are you all right?”

  He lifted his head and stared at her. “I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t know what Lovinia would say to comfort them.” He gave a short, barking laugh. “Part of me wants to do exactly what Roseanna did. I want to yell and hurt people and run away.” He ran one hand over his face. “I don’t want this to happen. I don’t want to go through this, and I don’t want to live without Lovinia.”

  Ruby stroked Daniel’s hair. He had stuck the knotted fabric of her apron in his mouth and was chewing on it. She had no words of comfort for Gideon, but she felt the same frustration.

  “It doesn’t seem fair that she should suffer this way.” Ruby looked back at him, struck by the open anguish in his face.

  “Lovinia told me she asked you to—” His voice broke. “To take her place in our family.”

  Ruby felt her face grow hot. Discussing that possibility with Lovinia had been difficult, but she hadn’t realized how embarrassing it would be to hear her husband mention it.

  He swallowed. “I want you to know, I’m not going to hold you to any promises you might have made to her.”

  She cupped Daniel’s head in her palm. “I wouldn’t expect you to, except I promised I would take care of the children, and I would consider . . .” She wiped away a tear that tickled her cheek. “I will take care of the children, just as I have been. I won’t break that promise.”

  Gideon looked away with a long sigh. “Denki. I’m grateful.” He gripped his knees. “I won’t expect anything more from you. Lovinia can’t expect me to keep such a promise.”

  Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You should. Lovinia was clear that she thought you would need my help too, as well as the children.”

  “Did she say that?”

  “She said she wanted me to help you learn to laugh again.” Ruby leaned toward him, this stranger that Lovinia loved so much. “She is my friend, and I love her dearly. She loves you and worries about you, and I won’t let her down.”

  “Did she . . . did she say anything about . . . marrying me?”

  Ruby nodded. “I didn’t promise I would, though. She seemed content that I would think about it.”

  “My wife is a stubborn woman sometimes.” He lifted his head again and searched her face. “She made me promise. She wouldn’t rest until I did.”

  Ruby’s stomach flipped.

  “I can’t go back on my promise, as much as I want to.” His eyes opened wide as he realized what he had said. “Not that I don’t think you would be someone I might marry someday. I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t good enough.”

  Ruby smiled. Even with her grief at losing her friend at any time consuming her, the situation still struck her as funny. Ironic. “I understand. You would rather not be in the position to fulfill that promise.”

  He nodded, relief flooding his face. “Maybe Lovinia is right, that I need you to help me laugh again. I tend to take myself much too seriously.”

  “And I don’t take myself seriously enough.”

  Gideon smiled at her. “We do have one thing in common.”

  Ruby nodded. “We both love Lovinia and want what is best for her.”

  “If she knows we have discussed this and are considering fulfilling her wishes, do you think that will be enough to let her rest easy and not worry about the future?”

  “I hope so.” Ruby felt Daniel sagging against her knee, so she picked him up and held him close. “I don’t want to mislead her, though.”

  “We won’t.” Gideon stood. “I’m going to go find Roseanna and talk to her. Do you mind sitting with Lovinia until I get back?”

  “Not at all. Daniel is ready for a nap, and she’ll be happy to spend some time with him until he falls asleep.”

  Ruby stood just as Gideon took a step toward the door. Their near-collision brought them closer together than was proper, and Ruby took a step back. But not before she felt the solid presence of the man. He put out a hand to steady her, then went on his way. Watching him, all she could think of were Lovinia’s words, how he was strong, kindhearted, and loving. A man of God. No matter what happened, she could see herself loving him for Lovinia’s sake. Loving him like a brother and a partner in raising his children.

  Gideon k
new where Roseanna had gone when she fled the house. Even though the Weavers’ farm was large, Roseanna had found a favorite spot in the big haymow. He found her there now, snuggled in the soft hay and looking out the big open window toward the east.

  Mein Herr, help me.

  “Roseanna?”

  Her shoulder twitched, but she didn’t turn toward him.

  “Daughter. We must talk. I don’t want you to be so sad.”

  She turned toward him then, her eyes red and puffy from her tears. “I don’t want her to die. I want to go home and have things be the way they were . . . before.”

  When Roseanna reached her arms toward him, he crossed the nearly empty loft in two strides and sat next to her, taking her in his lap. He hadn’t realized how much she had grown in the past months until he saw that her long legs no longer fit on his knees the way they used to. He held her against his chest as she cried, tears flowing down his own cheeks.

  After a few minutes, he gave her a quick squeeze. “It is all right to cry. Even Jesus cried when his friend died.”

  Roseanna hiccupped. “Which friend?”

  “Lazarus. When Jesus came to see him, he had been dead for four days. The Good Book tells us that he wept at Lazarus’s tomb.”

  “Mamm says she’s a friend of Jesus. Will he cry when she dies?”

  Gideon swallowed. “I don’t know. I do know that he will be with us in our sorrow.”

  “But what about Mamm? Doesn’t he care about her?”

  “For sure, he does.” He shifted so he could look into his daughter’s face. “Do you know what happens to us when we die?”

  She nodded. “When one of the soldiers died, the others buried him in the ground.”

  Gideon didn’t want to think about the war. “Do you remember when Viola Hostetter passed away?”

  “She looked like she was asleep. But she wasn’t.”

  “That was her body, and it was dead. But her soul wasn’t. She was a righteous woman who loved the Lord, just like your mother is.”

  “Where was she?”

  “In heaven. The Blessed Land. After our bodies die, our souls go to heaven if we love and trust our Lord Jesus Christ.”

  “That is where God is.”

  “And we can be assured that Viola, and all who die in the Lord, are there also.”

  Roseanna laid her head on his shoulder and looked out the window again. “Is it a happy place?”

  “The Good Book tells us that there is no sorrow there. No tears. No sickness. No death. I think it is the happiest place of all. It is a blessed place.”

  “How will Mamm be happy if we aren’t there with her?”

  Gideon kissed Roseanna’s kapp. “She will be happy knowing that someday, when the Good Lord determines, we will be there with her.”

  “Forever?”

  “Forever.”

  “Is Jesus’s friend there?”

  Gideon nodded. “For sure he is. And a lot of other people too.”

  “I still don’t want Mamm to die.”

  “I don’t either. But if it is the Lord’s will, then we must learn to accept it.”

  Roseanna settled against him, still looking out the window. Gideon gazed out over the distant trees to the hazy blue horizon. Somewhere out there was the home they had left behind and the battles of the war. In spite of what he had told Roseanna, he had his doubts about whether God knew what was happening to one family, and he had no idea how he would learn to accept what was happening. There were so many dying on the battlefields, so many breathing their last breaths. Why would God see him?

  He shut his eyes at the memory of the soldier who had fallen at his feet at the battle in the mountains of Virginia. The man, just a boy, had rolled down into the ravine where Gideon held the horses and landed in a sprawled heap. Had that boy entered heaven in the moment that he died? Or had the Good Lord forgotten him too?

  Mein Herr . . .

  Gideon shook his head, pulling his thoughts back to the present. The sound of children’s voices rose in the clear air.

  “Do you hear Ezra and Sophia?” he asked.

  Roseanna nodded.

  “When I’m sitting with your mother in her room, she can hear the three of you laughing and talking outside. Every time, she stops whatever she’s doing and listens. Then a smile comes. She gets so much joy out of listening to your laughter.”

  “Even though she is . . . is dying?”

  “For sure. She loves you very much, and when her children are happy, then she is happy.”

  “Do I have to be happy? I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again.” Threatening tears strangled Roseanna’s words.

  “You won’t think you will be, but someday you’ll find that you can laugh again.” Gideon combed his beard with his fingers. “I was six years old when my daed passed on, so I know a little about what you’re feeling.”

  “Were you sad?”

  Gideon nodded. “But as time went by, I found that I wasn’t as sad anymore. I still missed Daed, and I always will, but it didn’t hurt as much.”

  “How long did it take?”

  “My daed died in the summer, and all winter I was sad. But when spring came again, I was happy sometimes. That’s when I knew I was beginning to feel better. It might not take as long for you, or it might take longer.”

  “Will I forget her?”

  Gideon gave her another squeeze. “Never. You’ll never forget your mamm.”

  “But . . .” Roseanna let the word hang in the air between them.

  “But what?”

  “Who is going to be our mother?”

  “Ruby said that she will take care of you. You don’t need to worry. There will always be someone to take care of you and Sophia and your brothers.”

  Roseanna stood up and brushed the hay off her skirt. “I’m going to go help in the garden.”

  “Lydia will like that.”

  When Roseanna had gone, Gideon stood also. Lovinia was waiting for him, and he didn’t want to miss spending time with her, but Roseanna’s question echoed in his mind. Ruby’s promise to take care of the children was a good thing, but it wasn’t the same as the children having a mother. Was Lovinia right? Should he marry again? Could he marry again?

  He shook his head at the thought. No one could take Lovinia’s place in his heart and his life. But how could he hope to care for his children and support his family without the help of a wife? The Weavers had been kind to let them live with them during Lovinia’s illness, but once she was . . . He took a deep breath at the thought. Once she was gone, there would be no excuse for not finding a place in the area and starting to farm again. And it would have to be soon if he was going to get crops in the field before winter.

  Abraham would know where a farm might be available to buy, if he could borrow money to do it, but that could wait. He pushed away from the open window. It was time for him to be with Lovinia now. He could plan for the future after.

  The kitchen was empty as he entered the house. He heard the rise and fall of Ruby’s and Lovinia’s voices from the room upstairs, and then soft laughter. Lovinia was laughing.

  Gideon took the steps two at a time, pausing on the top step where he could look into Lovinia’s room. Ruby sat in the chair, her back to the door, supporting Daniel on the edge of the bed while Lovinia held his hand. For sure, she was laughing, and Ruby’s shoulders were shaking. At that moment, Lovinia’s gaze met his. He had never seen her look so peaceful.

  “Gideon, I’m glad you’re here.” Lovinia’s voice was weak, but she smiled at him.

  Ruby stood and turned toward him, the laughter lingering on her face. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. Do you want me to take Daniel or leave him with you?” She looked at Lovinia as she asked the question.

  “He is ready for a nap,” Lovinia said with a little cough, “and I feel like sleeping too.” She grasped Ruby’s hand when she reached for the baby. “Denki, Ruby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “It i
s what friends do, isn’t it?”

  With that, Ruby left and Gideon took her place on the chair next to Lovinia’s bed.

  “What did Ruby do?” He took Lovinia’s hand in his, then covered it with his other one. Her fingers were cold.

  Lovinia smiled at him. “She reminded me of my future.”

  What future? Gideon almost asked the question but kept his mouth closed. He didn’t want to spoil Lovinia’s peaceful mood.

  She went on. “She reminded me of what the Good Book tells us about heaven. That there will be no more pain, no more tears.” She looked toward the open window and her voice grew soft. “I feel like I’m resting on the bank of a wide river. Some days the water is turbulent, barring the passage across. But other days, like today . . .” She paused to take a few breaths. “Today the water is placid. I can see the other side and the beautiful trees growing there. The grass is so soft and clean. I want to cross the gentle river and rest in the shade of the trees.”

  Gideon swallowed, a bitter taste filling his mouth. “Don’t, Lovinia. Don’t leave me.”

  She smiled at him again. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave the children. But it seems to be the Lord’s will, and I am content.”

  Tears filled Gideon’s eyes, but Lovinia didn’t see them. She had gone to sleep, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall.

  Levi followed Mother and Father on the dusty road, trailing behind Millie. They were walking home from Meeting at Karl Stuckey’s farm, and on this Sunday afternoon the overcast sky and heavy air added to his impatient mood.

  Katie Stuckey had received a letter from Jonas and had shared it with him. Since Jonas now worked at a hospital in Washington City, they no longer feared for his safety the way they had last year, but Jonas’s description of his work was depressing. Jonas had skimmed over the details, but his stories were disturbing. Tales of the constant groaning and cries of the wounded men, the stench of the festering wounds, and the appalling number of men who died from their wounds or from disease. Levi was certain Jonas had meant his letter to be uplifting as he wrote about the lives that were saved in the hospital, but underneath Levi had seen his friend’s despair over the many who would never return to their families.