Tender Mercies (Men of Lancaster Counter Book 2) Read online

  Samuel seemed to wilt, slumping where he stood. He steadied himself with a hand on the woodstove. “Well… I hope this ain’t rude, but… would it be all right with you if I started right now?”

  Eddie blinked. “Don’t you need to go home and pack your things?”

  A rosy flush appeared on Samuel’s cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “Nah. I have everything I need for now. I can get some stuff later.”

  Seriously? What was this kid’s story? Suddenly Eddie was uneasy. The young man had just appeared on his doorstep out of the blue, without even a suitcase in hand. And now he wanted to move in right this minute?

  It was pretty weird. But then again, the kid was Amish. What did Eddie know about that? Did they spurn personal possessions or something? And he was on foot, Eddie recalled. Maybe he just didn’t want to walk all the way home again. On that clubfoot too. Christ. Eddie winced at the thought. God only knew how far he’d walked to apply for the job. And it was nearly dark. The idea of Samuel walking for hours in the dark on that clubfoot to get back home was awful.

  Eddie, who was defenseless in the face of any kind of suffering, instantly crumbled. “Sure. Yeah. That’s fine. You can stay here tonight if you want.”

  Samuel glanced up, his expression relieved. “That’d work out real gut. That way I can get started first thing in the mornin’. I’d offer to work some tonight, but it’s nearly dark now.”

  “God, you don’t need to start tonight! Don’t be silly. I fed and watered the animals just before you got here, so they’re fine until morning. I was going to make some pasta for dinner, if you want some.”

  “Honestly I’m just real tired,” Samuel admitted in a soft voice.

  “Oh. Well. If you want to rest, you can use the bedroom. I mean, it’s your room for the week, anyway. I’ll make dinner, and you can come down later if you get hungry.”

  “Thank you kindly.” Samuel walked to the pocket door but turned before heading upstairs. His face was serious. “I know I don’t look like much, but I promise you won’t be sorry.”

  Before Eddie could reply, Samuel was moving up the steps with a tired clump clump.

  Eddie sat down at the counter and sipped his cold coffee. He blinked back a sudden dampness, touched by Samuel’s words.

  Good God, Eddie Graber, you are one grade-A sucker.

  Yet there was a sense of peace and a lightness in his chest that seemed disproportionate to his rational analysis of the new hire, as if his spirit knew something his brain didn’t.

  He thought, perhaps, he liked Samuel. Eddie just prayed he really could do the job because he did not at all look forward to kicking the guy out.

  Chapter 5

  Samuel woke up at five the next morning. The bed was comfortable—soft and covered with several old quilts. He slept well despite his back and his troubles. Maybe it was the relief of having found a job. It was a good one too. The farm was real pretty, and Eddie Graber seemed like a nice man. He was a city type and younger than Samuel expected. He looked a bit hoity-toity with his milk pale skin that seemed hardly to have known the sun, his close-trimmed beard, and his expensive-looking shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. But his big brown eyes had long lashes and were the tenderest eyes Samuel had ever seen. Hopefully the eyes fit the man and he wasn’t cruel or unreasonable. And Samuel liked that it was just the two of them there. It could be an awful easy setup, not having to please so many folks.

  When he got out of bed, his back was stiff and pained him something fierce. His right thigh, spine, and bad foot were sore from walking so many miles the day before. He felt a little feverish too. But there was nothing for it. This was a trial week, Eddie said. Samuel had to show how hard he could work.

  He’d checked the small bathroom the night before. He found a new toothbrush in a package and a tube of toothpaste. There was shampoo and soap in the shower. But there was no aspirin or antiseptic cream. He’d washed his shirt, underwear, socks, and pants in the sink with bath soap and left the bathroom window cracked, hoping they’d dry overnight.

  Now he put them on. His polyester pants were dry, but the rest of the items were still a little damp. Blood stained the back of his shirt so bad it was fit for the garbage. But Samuel had nothing else to wear. At least his coat covered the worst of it.

  He went downstairs to the kitchen, trying to be quiet. He longed for a cup of coffee but didn’t know how to make one in Eddie’s kitchen. He found a Tupperware bowl of pasta with red sauce in the fridge with a note that said “Samuel” stuck to it. He took out the bowl and ate the meal cold, standing in the kitchen. He felt better for having something in his belly. He looked at the many other drawers in the room questioningly. Would it be rude to snoop? He decided to open a few, moving them as quietly as he could. He found what he was looking for—a drawer of pills, vitamins, painkillers , and such. There was a large bottle of Tylenol, nearly full. Samuel decided Eddie wouldn’t mind since it would make Samuel work better this morning.

  Samuel took three of the pills with a glass of water. Then he headed out.

  He found a light switch in the barn. It was still dark out and cold. Felt like just above freezing. The single light bulb was bright, yet seemed intimidated by the darkness, not reaching the darkest corners. Samuel found the animals Eddie mentioned—two cows in an end stall that opened onto the pasture, and three sheep in an inner stall that was big enough to hold a dozen more. The cattle were two Jerseys, a milker with swaying udders, and a large heifer, her small teats evidence that she’d never been bred. It was a strange way to house such creatures. By the state of the milker’s udders, Samuel thought the heifer had been nursing. Still, there was no milk in the fridge, so Samuel looked around for a bucket and milking pump or even a stool. He found a stool and nothing else. Shaking his head, Samuel went back to the house, washing a large soup pot real good with hot water and soap, and took it back out to the barn.

  He found two harnesses in bright colors hanging near the door, and he got the milker on lead and tied her up to a beam at the feeding trough. The heifer got a little protective, so Samuel put out grain for both of them, then sat and milked while they ate. The cow put up no fuss, but he only got a half gallon. They needed to separate the cow and the heifer, at least at night, so the heifer didn’t steal the milk. And they ought to breed the heifer too, if she weren’t already pregnant. She was plenty old enough for that. He’d have to suggest it to the boss.

  Samuel wondered what the heck Eddie Graber was doing with the animals. He’d hadn’t said a whole lot the night before, and what he had said hadn’t made a lick of sense, though Samuel hadn’t said so. There clearly weren’t enough cows for a dairy, and if the cows were just for the family, two of ’em would still produce way too much milk for two men. Maybe Eddie meant to sell the heifer? She looked healthy and fine and would make someone a good milker once bred.

  He took the milk back to the house and found a pitcher with a lid in the cupboard. He put the raw milk in the fridge.

  Next he put out grain for the sheep and made sure all the water troughs were full. By then dawn was coming on. The end of the pasture faced west, and the sky turned a violet pink. It was a take-your-breath-away morning, the kind Samuel imagined in Green Valley, his daydream place. The Tylenol had kicked in, and even though there was still some pain, it wasn’t too bad.

  Samuel felt relaxed for the first time since that terrible scene with his father. For the first time, he wasn’t afraid. He had a place to live and steady meals. He stopped to watch the sky for a bit and sent up a prayer of thanks. One of the cows, the heifer, brushed by him in a companionable way as it ambled into the pasture.

  It was very quiet. The farm felt empty, but not in a bad way. It was odd to have this big place for one single man, but that was none of Samuel’s business. That made Samuel think about Eddie, wonder what he wanted with a farm like this. He looked like many of the tourists who came to the area. But unlike most of them, he seemed to be in real good shape. He was only av
erage sized, maybe five eight, and real trim. How old was he? There was no gray in that short dark hair or soft beard.

  He had such pretty brown eyes.

  No, not pretty. That was dumb. But he did have a way of looking at a person that was unsettling. Samuel was used to his family and the folks at church, who all looked at him without really seeing. Or maybe they saw him without wondering what was in his heart, the way your eyes skimmed over a thing that was always there. Eddie looked at him like his gaze was caught and held fast.

  Samuel shook his head at his foolishness and got back to work. He put the sheep in the pasture with the cows. The animals didn’t seem bothered, so he figured they must be used to grazing together. He mucked out the stalls, put down fresh straw, which he found in the upper story of the barn, and swept off the cement walkway in front of the stalls with an old push broom. He noticed a couple of wasp nests and knocked them down, put them in the trash containers near the garage. The nests were abandoned, but best not to let them get infested once spring heated up.

  There was no wind that day, and the sky was clear. It got warm working, and without thinking, Samuel took off his coat. He explored the barn and found the old tractor Eddie had mentioned in the far back room on the lower level. He was bent over the motor when someone spoke.

  “Samuel.”

  Samuel startled, lost in his own head. He turned to see Eddie standing in the open doorway. He was wearing a brown cloth coat, jeans, and boots. Samuel smiled in a friendly fashion until he saw the way Eddie was looking at him. He wore a shocked expression.

  “Hey there,” Samuel said, his smile faltering. He wiped his palms on his black pants. “I was just seein’ about the motor. If it needed oil and such like.”

  There was something wrong in Eddie’s eyes. “I… uh. Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yeah,” Samuel said brightly. “That’s a real gut bed.”

  “Good.”

  “I already fed the cows and the sheep and did the milkin’.”

  “Milking?”

  “And I mucked the stalls. Wasn’t sure you let the sheep and the cows pasture together, but since there weren’t a separate area of the pasture set up, I figured as much.”

  Eddie just stared at him.

  “I didn’t find no chickens,” Samuel continued, licking his lips nervously. “Or I woulda got the eggs. Do you keep chickens?”

  “Not at the moment, no.”

  “Oh. You should get some. There’s nothin’ like fresh eggs, and they’re good for keepin’ the bugs down too. The chickens, I mean. They ain’t hardly any trouble.”

  Why was Eddie looking at him so oddly? Samuel had no idea what he’d done wrong. He swallowed and looked back at the tractor. “I suppose you’d rather have me mow the lawn today. I wasn’t sure where the mower was, or I’d a started it. But the pasture is gettin’ long too with just them two cows and a few sheep. I can do a hay run this week, if I can get this here tractor runnin’.”

  “Samuel,” Eddie said in a tight voice. “Would you please come on up to the house?”

  Eddie seemed angry or upset. But Samuel had no idea what he’d done so wrong. He’d done everything that seemed to need doing this morning, and it had only been a few hours yet.

  A lump rose up in his throat, and he felt his face heat. He felt a pang of fear so sharp it felt like it cut something deep inside. Surely Eddie wasn’t going to throw him out already? Or… or whip him? But no, Eddie wouldn’t do that. An employer fired a man; he didn’t whip him. But Samuel would take another whipping over being thrown out again. Happily.

  What had he done wrong?

  Eddie turned and strode back to the house. Samuel had no choice but to follow.

  Eddie entered the kitchen through the back door and held it open for Samuel, who was right behind him. Samuel glanced at him nervously, then stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, his gaze on the floor.

  Eddie paced back and forth in the kitchen for a moment, his inside clenched with anxiety and anger. He’d woken up that morning and watched Samuel working out the kitchen window for a bit. Samuel had been mucking the stalls, using the wheelbarrow to take the waste to the manure pile. He worked quickly and with no dawdling or, like one of the teenagers who’d come to ask about the job, checking his phone every two minutes for texts. Eddie was pleased. It took a load off his mind to know things were being tended while he sat at his desk and worked.

  Then Eddie had the bright idea to make sure the bathroom upstairs was well stocked, and he made a grim discovery.

  “Did you have coffee?” Eddie asked, not wanting to rush into the conversation.

  Samuel answered quietly. “No, sir. I wasn’t sure how to make it.”

  “Let me show you. Come here.”

  Eddie showed Samuel how to use the K-cup machine. Eddie used refillable plastic cups because they were better for the environment, and he had a large can of grounds. It relaxed him a little to do the mundane task.

  “Help yourself to coffee whenever you want,” he said, his voice still stiff. “Or anything else in the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” Samuel finally looked up at Eddie’s face. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

  He was practically flinching, which made Eddie feel terrible. He clenched his jaw and tried to calm down. “Look. I’m not going to be in the habit of getting into your private business, but there’s something I’m not comfortable ignoring.”

  Samuel blinked at him, his eyes worried.

  “I checked your bathroom this morning because I wasn’t sure if you had enough toilet paper and things, and I… I found this stuffed under the sink.” Eddie picked a towel off of a stool at the island and laid it on the counter. The white towel was stained with blood.

  “I’m sorry,” Samuel said quickly, his face stricken. “I meant to walk to the store today and pick up some bleach if you don’t have none. I can get that off. You won’t even know it was there.”

  “I don’t care about the towel!” Eddie stepped behind Samuel. His voice shook. “Just look at your shirt! There’s blood all over it. Samuel, what happened? Who did this to you? Do you need a doctor?”

  Eddie was so worked up he felt nauseous. When he found the towel, he was worried about the blood on the terrycloth but thought Samuel might have nicked himself badly while shaving. Then he saw Samuel out in the barn with his coat off, and the back of his white shirt was badly bloodstained. It made Eddie want to hit something. The idea of someone beating up Samuel, with his clubfoot and his gentle shyness, made Eddie turn murderous.

  Bullying and abuse were two things Eddie couldn’t stand. Growing up, he was always the smallest kid in his class. He was slightly built anyway, and then his Jewish parents had pushed him ahead in school, first by one year and then by another, which made him really small.

  His parents were all about education and not so interested in Eddie’s social welfare. “Keep your head down and study. You’re not in school to win popularity contests” was his mother’s advice. His father’s amounted to: “Why do you care what anyone thinks?”

  So he was bullied. It was rarely to the point of physical violence. Mostly he was perceived as a weirdo and ignored. When kids had birthday parties, he didn’t receive an invitation. He was picked last for group assignments and phys ed teams. Eddie developed an aloof facade that said he didn’t care. But yeah, he did.

  By high school his anger at this constant disparagement boiled over. He was a star student most of the time—chess club, student newspaper, honor roll. But if he witnessed anyone being bullied or mistreated, he saw red. When enraged, he had no fear. He would say anything to anyone, bite, kick, claw, go for the groin…. He had a lot of bottled-up hurts to draw on. After a very rocky sophomore year, which included two suspensions for fighting, Eddie learned to rein in his temper, and his fellow students learned butting heads with the “little berserker” wasn’t worth the scars. Ironically he even achieved a grudging respect and modicum of popularity.

  During those growing-up y
ears, animals were always there for him. From his first gerbil, Rebbi, to his dog, Snowball, they always loved him, always accepted him unconditionally, always listened. Eddie loved animals with his whole being, and he was as passionate about protecting them as he was about protecting all vulnerable things.

  Which was why he was so tweaked about Samuel.

  Samuel faced Eddie, hiding his back again. His gaze was on the floor. “It’s nothin’. Honest. I’m still fit for work. I can promise you that.”

  “This isn’t about the work!”

  Samuel said nothing, but his face reddened further. Eddie tried to calm down. He was scaring Samuel. Or maybe just freaking him out. Really, what right did Eddie have to interrogate him? Samuel wasn’t a child, and Eddie wasn’t his keeper.

  “Sit down and drink your coffee,” Eddie said when he was calmer.

  “You ain’t gonna fire me?”

  “No. I’m really not. For God’s sake. No.”

  Samuel slid carefully onto a stool at the counter. Eddie brought out the almond milk and sugar and Samuel put them in his coffee. Without asking, Eddie put bread in the toaster and then put bowls, plates, utensils, and a big box of muesli cereal on the counter in front of Eddie. He moved a couple of bananas there too, and peanut butter.

  They sat across from each other and ate.

  “There’s raw milk in the fridge. Fresh from this mornin’,” Samuel said quietly, his cheeks still flushed.

  “Uh… yeah. I saw that.”

  It was actually sort of funny that Samuel had milked Ginger. Clearly he didn’t understand what a vegan was. God, Eddie had a lot to explain to Samuel about the farm, about what he was trying to do here. But that wasn’t foremost on Eddie’s priority list at the moment.

  When he sensed they’d both calmed down, Eddie tried again. “Okay. So. You don’t have to tell me. But I would like to know what happened to your back.”

  Samuel chewed a bite of toast and met Eddie’s gaze warily. “It was my da. My father.”