“For the ones in rumspringa or the others?”
“You have been learnin’ your Deutsch, Zane Carson.” She patted him on the hand. “Best let John Paul tell you about the goin’s-on at the singin’ these days. It’s a mite different than it was in my day.”
With the gentle progress of the Amish, Zane sincerely doubted that. The conversation seemed to have taken a lot of Ruth’s energy, but she pushed up from the table like a real trooper and took their plates to the sink. Before she could come back for their cups, Zane had them in hand.
“It is time to get ready for the service, Zane Carson. It was nice visitin’ with you this mornin’.”
“You too, Ruth.”
He resisted the urge to follow her up the stairs and support her elbow as she navigated her way. He had a feeling Ruth wouldn’t appreciate the help in the way it was intended. One thing was certain: Ruth Fisher was a fighter.
Katie Rose pulled the horses to a stop in front of the house and set the brake. “Whoa.”
Zane stood on the porch, hammer in hand.
“Zane Carson!” Her mother called from beside her in the buggy. “Ho there, Zane.”
She started to scramble down from the seat, but Katie Rose touched her arm to stay her. “You came home because you were tired. Don’t go gettin’ all riled up now.” She hated the pinched look around her mother’s mouth. She did look tired, but Katie Rose feared something else was bothering her mudder.
Halfway through the food service, her mother had started looking weary. It had taken nearly half an hour, but Katie Rose finally convinced her that no one would care if they returned home early. John Paul would stay for the singing, and Annie would want to go visiting with Gideon after they ate. Katie Rose asked Noni if she might be tired and ready to leave as well, but the old woman fanned herself, sitting in the shade drinking lemonade as she watched the children play. “I’ll get some rest when I have my reward,” was her reply. Once her father assured her that he could find his own way home, Katie Rose hopped in her elder’s buggy and drove her mother home to rest.
But sometimes her mother was just so stubborn.
Katie Rose hopped down from the buggy, the springs and wheels squeaking as she hit the ground. “Zane Carson,” she called, annoyed by how good his name sounded from her lips.
He shaded his eyes as he watched her come near. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
She glanced at the hammer in his hand. “It would appear so.”
He smiled at her words, watching her with those brown eyes. She pressed one hand into her side. “It’s the Lord’s Day, Zane Carson. We only do what is required of us on the Lord’s Day.”
“I was just repairing this loose floorboard on the porch. Nothing more.”
“If’n you want to fix it, you may do so tomorrow. Today is a day of rest.” She dropped her voice so only he could hear. “Will you come and walk Mamm to the house? She’s done too much today as well. I fear she might fall.” She didn’t add how fragile her mother was, how the weight loss and cancer drugs had made her bones and spirit brittle. Zane Carson was a smart man. He could see that for himself.
“Of course.” He set the hammer down and dusted off his hands and knees.
“Ruth,” he called. “Stay right where you are.”