“Well...” He swallowed. “You can’t wear them, Rue. You know that, right?”
She didn’t answer, but her lip trembled. Her face was so pale, but those eyes were filled with a determined fire.
“They aren’t Amish,” he added gently.
“They’re mine,” she whispered hoarsely, and the intensity of her gaze nearly choked him.
Thomas had a choice here—keep the clothes, and possibly destroy them, or give them back. She was only a child and didn’t know what was best for her life yet. And he was her father—it was his job to guide her, whether it made her happy in the moment or not. But that little suitcase of Englisher clothes... He knew what they meant to her, and even if he wanted to erase her Englisher side, it wouldn’t be possible anyway. Nor did he have the right to do it. She’d come into this world because of his relationship with her Englisher mother. And now he was trying to undo it?
“Rue, I’m going to promise you something,” Thomas said quietly.
“Okay?” Rue said hopefully.
“I am not going to do anything to your clothes. They’re safe in my closet right now, and I won’t hurt them or get rid of them. They’re still yours, okay?”
Maybe that would be enough and given time she’d finally forget about them. Maybe she’d see that the Amish life he offered her was worth more than a suitcase of purple and pink summer wear.
“Can I have them back now?” Rue pressed earnestly. Her hands were balled up into fists at her side. “I was good. I’m a good girl. Can I have them?”
The “no” was on the tip of his tongue, and he almost said it, but he couldn’t bring himself to. She wanted those clothes so desperately, her whole body trembling with her desire to have them back, and he couldn’t be the one to keep them from her.
“Of course you’re a good girl,” he said tenderly.
She stared at him, mute, and her eyes filled with hopeful agony. He was beaten. He knew it, and when he looked over, Amos and Noah had both dropped their gazes into their coffee cups. They knew it, too, apparently.
“Yes,” he said, at last. “You can have them back. But you can’t wear them.”
“Okay...” Rue visibly deflated with relief, and the tears that had welled up in her eyes finally rolled down her cheeks. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Oh, Rue,” he said softly, and he squatted down next to her and gathered her into his arms. She leaned her face into his shirt and her tears soaked into it, wetting his chest beneath. She cried softly with big, shuddering sobs. Had she been carrying that around inside her all this time? Had he been too harsh on her? He rose to his feet, picking up Rue in his arms as he stood. “I’ll give them to you now.”
He went up the stairs, his daughter in his arms, and he carried her into his bedroom. His bed was neatly made, the floor swept, and his window open just enough to let a breeze inside. He set Rue on the edge of his bed and went to his closet and pulled out the little suitcase.
Rue jumped down and gathered it up in her small arms.
“Oh, thank you!” she breathed. “I love my clothes, Daddy. I do! I really love them.”
And he knew it wasn’t about her clothes so much as her mother. She loved her mother most desperately, and this was her last link to the mother she’d likely forget over the years. She wouldn’t retain many of her memories of Tina, and he was sorry for that.
“All right, then,” he said, a lump in his throat. “Go put those in your room, and then we’ll go down, okay?”
Thomas waited for her at the top of the stairs, and when Rue rejoined him, they headed back down, Rue scampering happily on ahead. There was a knock at the door when he got back into the kitchen, and Amos rose to open it.
As expected, Patience stood on the step, and Thomas felt a wave of relief as she came inside.
“I think we’re ready to go now,” Thomas said. “Come on, Rue.”
“I got my clothes back, Patience!” Rue said as they all headed outside. “Because I was good. I was extra good. I didn’t hug anything. Nothing at all!”
Patience laughed and held out her hand for Rue, and Thomas headed over to the stables to hitch up horses. He felt deflated, exhausted and not entirely sure he’d done the right thing, either with taking her clothes away to begin with, or with giving them back. He’d certainly made an impression on her, but what would she take away from that? That her daet was capable of strange cruelty? That she was required to behave perfectly in order to keep what was rightfully hers?
Gott, I don’t know how, but I’ve already gone wrong here. I need Your help.
Within a few minutes, they were in the buggy and headed up the drive to the road.
“So you gave her back the clothes?” Patience asked in German.
“Yah,” he replied. “I did. I... It might have been a mistake. I realize that. The elders would tell me so, I’m sure.”
“But you’re her daet. It’s your call,” Patience replied.
“It is,” he said grimly.
“For what it’s worth,” Patience said, “and this coming from a schoolteacher who’s never once taught school, so you can take that into account... I think you did the right thing.”
“Yah?” He looked over at her, surprised. “I thought I caved in, actually.”
Patience shrugged. “But you didn’t break her heart.”
Thomas smiled to himself. Yah, that was true. How fondly would she think of the Amish life if her Amish daet was the one to keep breaking her heart?
“I do have an idea of what you could do with her Englisher clothes,” Patience said.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You could make a quilt from them,” Patience said. “That way, her clothes would be preserved in an Amish
