Rue smiled faintly at the endearment. “Yeah...”
“Come have a taste of some flatbread,” Mary said. “Come on, it’s okay. Come try it. Supper is ready soon. We’re just waiting on the men.”
Outside, she heard the sound of a buggy’s wheels crunching over gravel and the cheerful rumble of deep voices. The men were home. Rue came dancing across the room, a piece of flatbread in one hand, and she stood in front of the closed screen door, waiting.
Patience gathered up her work and put it into a sewing basket. The dress was nearly finished—two more hems and it was ready to be worn. When she’d cleared her work off the table, the door opened and Amos came inside.
“Something smells wonderful, Mammi,” Amos boomed out, and then he looked down at Rue. “Hello, Rue.”
Rue stared at him in wide-eyed silence.
“You can’t be so noisy with little girls,” Mary said, shaking her head. “Now, you wash up and sit down, Amos.”
Amos cast Patience a rueful look, but did as Mary asked of him. Noah was next to come inside, and he squatted down to say hello to Rue.
“I like that dress,” Noah said with a smile.
“It’s okay,” Rue said. “I can run in it.”
“Well, I like it,” Noah replied. “Did you know that I’m your uncle?”
Rue shook her head.
“Well, I am. I’m Uncle Noah. And when Uncle Amos gets too noisy, you just tell me, okay?”
Rue shot a look toward Mary, and Patience chuckled.
“Mammi can take care of that, too, I’m sure.”
Noah grinned in Patience’s direction and stood up to go wash his hands when Thomas came inside. His gaze moved over the kitchen, stopping at Patience for a moment, and he gave her a small smile. He had already washed, and he had a package in his hand—a white plastic bag.
“I brought something,” Thomas said, turning to Rue.
“For me?” Rue whispered.
“Yah, for my little girl,” Thomas said, and handed her the bag.
Rue opened it and pulled out a cloth doll wearing a purple Amish dress and a bonnet. She looked at it for a moment, then tears welled in her eyes.
“No,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong, Rue?” Patience asked, bending down next to her.
“No!” Rue said. “I don’t like it! I don’t want it!”
“It’s a beautiful doll, sugar,” Patience said. “I think it’s lovely.”
“I don’t!” Rue shook her head. “I want a Barbie. I want a Barbie with long hair and pretty dresses.”
A Barbie... Patience didn’t even know what that was. When she looked up, she saw Thomas standing there awkwardly, his gift rejected. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair.
“What’s a Barbie?” Patience asked.
“An Englisher toy. The kinner love them...” Thomas put his hat on a hook and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Rue. We don’t play with Barbies here.”
Tears spilled down Rue’s cheeks, her lower lip trembling, and Patience scooped her up in her arms, cuddling her close. Rue pushed her wet face into Patience’s neck and let out a trembling sigh. The discarded doll lay on the floor next to the crumpled plastic bag.
Thomas looked at her with a helpless expression on his face. He bent down and picked up the doll and bag. He wadded the bag up in one hand, and placed the doll on the corner of the table.
“I thought I’d try,” he said, his voice low.
“Give it time,” Patience said. “She’ll play with it eventually.”
Maybe. Unless she decided to blame all things Amish for the depth of her loss.
“Yah.” Thomas lifted his hand as if he wanted to pat his daughter’s back, and then he let it drop. “Would you stay for dinner, Patience?”
“I don’t mean to intrude on your family time,” Patience said.
“No, it would be...helpful,” Thomas replied. “If you wanted to, at least.”
“Sure,” she replied. “If it would help.”
Thomas picked up the doll and carried it into the other room. He looked down at the fabric body, with the little purple cape dress that was a perfect imitation of the dresses worn by the women in their community. The doll had brown hair made of string that disappeared behind a crisp white kapp. Lovina Glick had sold it to him—one of several she had for sale. There had been one doll with blond hair like Rue’s, but she’d been wearing a black dress, and Thomas thought she’d like a purple dress better.
He’d shown the doll to Noah and Amos, and they’d thought it was a great idea, too. He’d wanted to make his daughter happy, and her reaction cut him more deeply than he wanted the others to know.
When he came back into the kitchen, Rue was sitting next to Noah at the table, and Patience was in the kitchen with Mammi.
Noah gave Thomas a sympathetic shrug, silently offering some emotional support.
“Rue, why don’t you come help me?” Mammi called. “We need someone to wash carrots. Do you think you could do that?”
Rue looked over hesitantly.
“The water is nice and cold,” Patience added. “It would feel so nice on your hands.”
Rue climbed down from her chair and headed over to where the women were working, and Thomas met his brother’s gaze.
“I asked her about the doll,” Noah said. “She says she likes the rooster better.”
Thomas smiled at that and shook his head. “She’s a stubborn one.”
“A lot like her daet, might I add,” Amos said, coming to the table with a stack of plates. “You were never one to settle into anything without a struggle. Look at what it took to get you home and Amish again.”
Thomas had to admit that was true. He’d had to go out there and make his own mess of mistakes before he could see that the Amish life was the one for him. So maybe expecting a more submissive personality from his own daughter wasn’t realistic. That possibility was also daunting. It was one thing for a man to accept his own mistakes in his journey home, but quite another to face the likelihood of his daughter
