responding. “Yah? Something you want me to do, Daniel?”
“Just keep an eye on things for me. I have to run an errand.” He smiled, nodding toward the battery section, where his nephew Timothy was replacing batteries in their proper bins. “And you might take a look at those shelves when Timothy finishes. Just in case.”
Anna nodded. Fourteen-year-old Timothy had been helping out for only a couple of weeks. They’d needed an extra pair of hands once James was gone.
Timothy was eager, but not always accurate. Still, Anna was responsible, not flighty like most sixteen-year-old girls, and she’d been working in the store for over a year.
“I’ll manage everything. Don’t worry.” She was obviously pleased at being left in charge, but a trace of apprehension showed. “You’ll be back to close up, yah?”
“For sure. No worries.”
He headed for the door, pausing a moment outside to admire, as always, the General Store sign. They had a good location—he and James had decided the lot between their two properties at the end of Main Street would be just right for the business that was just a dream six years ago.
They’d surmounted plenty of obstacles on the way to making the dream a reality. He’d just never thought he’d be carrying on alone, without James. Pain clenched his heart. James had been his best friend since they’d entered first grade at Creekside Amish School together.
Funny, when he stopped to think about it, that they had linked up so quickly. He was one of seven, growing up on the ninety-acre farm that spread out from the road to the ridge that overlooked the village of Lost Creek. He sometimes felt lost in the midst of siblings, and it had been startling to realize that James’s life was so different from his, even though they were part of the same church district.
James’s mother was a widow, and James her only child. They lived right in town, and at six, James had known little of the farm life that was so routine for Daniel. But still, they’d been best friends, and when James married Bethany and they bought her great-uncle’s holding and orchard, they became neighbors, as well.
The lane at the side of the store led back to Beth’s property. Daniel strode along, noticing the signs of autumn beginning to show in the yellowing fields and the bright plumes of the sumac bushes. The leaves hadn’t begun to turn yet, and the weather held sunny and warm, but the children were back in school and autumn was on the way. He could see the glint of red here and there in the apple orchard that covered the lower slopes beyond the farmhouse where Beth and little Benjamin now lived alone.
As usual, he felt a twinge at the thought of Beth. How would she manage without James? And just as important, what would she want to do about her share of the store?
He had his own ideas about that, that was for sure. He’d been Beth’s friend even longer than he’d known James, since she’d spent a lot of time at her great-uncle’s place. In fact, if she hadn’t caught James’s eye when she did, he might have been the one...
Well, there was no point in letting his thoughts stray in that direction. His task now was to do his best for Beth and her son.
As he neared the house, he caught sight of Benjy in the backyard, tossing a ball back and forth with Janie Stoltzfus, Beth’s niece. Instead of heading for the back door, he veered to join them.
“Looks like a gut game. Can I play, too?”
“Catch the ball, Daniel,” Benjy shouted, obviously pleased to have the game enlarged. With his silky straight blond hair and his round, chubby face, he still looked a little like the baby he’d been such a short time ago.
Would he have to grow up faster now that his daadi was gone? And at four, how much did Benjy actually realize about death? Daniel didn’t have any answers, but he knew that Beth would do her best to protect him. And he would, as well. He owed it to his friend.
Benjy tossed the ball short of Daniel, and he had to sprint forward to catch it.
“Benjy’s getting better all the time,” Janie said, laughter in her eyes.
Nodding, Daniel sent a soft underhand toss in Benjy’s direction. He put it right on target, and Benjy’s gratified surprise at catching it made him smile.
“I got it. Did you see, Janie? I caught it.”
“Yah, gut job,” Janie responded. “Now throw it to me.”
Benjy raised the ball to throw, dropped it and went scrambling after it. Daniel took advantage of the moment. “Is your aunt Bethany inside? I need to see her.”
“Yah. She was in the kitchen when we came out. Do you want me to go see?”
“That’s all right. I’ll find her.” With a wave, he headed for the house. He tapped lightly on the screen door and went into the mudroom, then on into the kitchen, calling out as he did.
Beth answered, sounding normal, but when she turned from the stove and Daniel saw her face, he was shocked. During the visiting and the funeral after James’s death, she’d seemed frozen, hardly aware of her surroundings. Now the ice that had encased her was gone, and he could read her loss too easily.
The gentleness had disappeared from her usually serene oval face, and her skin seemed shrunk against the bones, making her green eyes huge and tragic. Even her light brown hair had lost the curl she tried to suppress, straining back to the white kapp she wore.
He gathered his wits together and struggled to sound normal. “There’s a ball game going on in the backyard. Don’t you want to join it?”
Beth managed a smile at that, but it was a pitiful attempt. “Not just now. Can I do something for you, Daniel?”
“That’s my question. You know I’m here to help with anything you want.” He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Can we sit down for a bit?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, coming to sit in the chair he’d pulled out while he took the one facing it. “How...how is everything at the store?”
There was nothing of interest in her voice. In fact, it seemed that all her attention was turned inward to something that obsessed her to the exclusion of everything else.
“Doing fine.” His voice sounded unnatural to him. “In fact, we need to talk about the store. I...” He stopped, shaking his head. “What’s wrong, Beth? We’re old friends, ain’t so? You can talk to me.”
A flash of something that might have been anger crossed her face and as quickly disappeared.
“Nothing.” Her voice was tart. She pressed her lips together for a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry. You were saying, about the store?”
“Yah.” He’d like to press the matter, because it seemed clear to him that even more was wrong than grief, but something told him it wouldn’t be welcomed. She was only a couple of feet away across the width of the table, but it might as well be miles.
“I wanted you to know that I’ve brought my nephew Timothy in to help out, now that James...” He stopped and started again. “We needed a little extra help. Anna’s a gut worker, but she’s young and needs direction.”
He
