“We don’t need help,” he whispered.
“That’s pride, Arden.” Color deepened in her cheeks. “There’s no shame in accepting help, especially when it comes from a community. That’s why we pull together. It’s the reason behind our entire way of life—a community!”
“There’s such a thing as taking care of your own business, too,” he countered.
“They aren’t business—they’re people,” she whispered. “And they deserve happiness as much as the rest of us.”
“I’m not saying they don’t deserve happiness,” he whispered. “I’m saying that the rest of us have our own things to take care of, too.”
“Like what?” she asked. “If we’re willing to pay—”
“It wouldn’t be you.” He clenched his jaw in an effort to keep his voice low enough. “It would be your father. So stop offering his money as if it’s your own.”
Her eyes glittered with anger. “You have your own business to take care of, but did it ever occur to you that I might have my own, too? I’ve been staying with my grandmother—and I love it. I do. But I can’t find a husband here. I know everyone, and I’ve gone through my options. I need more than this, Arden. As much as I love this community and my family here, I need more if I’m going to get married and start my own family. But I can’t go anywhere unless my grandmother is taken care of. And if I up and leave, she won’t be able to stay in her home. But if she and Moe do truly love each other, they could stay together.”
“Are you admitting that you’re trying to force something between them?” he whispered.
“Force?” She shook her head. “Never! I’m observant, Arden. But your lives in Ohio aren’t the only ones on the line here.”
Her breath was coming quick and fast, and she put her fork down with a clink. They stared at each other for a moment, the air between them almost crackling. Then Sarai reached out and took his plate of corn bread.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice now at full volume.
“Your grandfather is eating this because he thinks it’s salvageable. He honestly thinks so. You’re eating it because he’s eating it. I won’t make you eat something that you think is ruined.”
She got up from the table and carried the corn bread to the compost bin.
“Sarai—”
Arden started to stand up, but he noticed then that the old people were watching them, their mouths agape. He felt his own face flood with heat.
“I’ll just—” He gestured feebly in Sarai’s direction, and he saw the meaningful look in his grandfather’s eyes. Arden was embarrassing the old man. Yah, he couldn’t easily explain this. They had only heard the end of that exchange. Arden got up and headed over to where she stood in the kitchen. The rest of the corn bread was still in the skillet on the counter.
“What did I do?” he asked.
“Nothing. Your family’s future depends on Moe going with you. But my future—any chance I’ve got—lies in Moe staying.”
“Or you could just tell your grandmother how you feel...”
“I’m her ticket to freedom,” Sarai said with a helpless shrug. “How can I do that? You might not believe me, but I care deeply about Mammi Ellen’s happiness. And Moe’s, too. I won’t sacrifice them for myself.”
This wasn’t selfish on her part. That certainty was growing inside of him. Sarai would stay here if her grandmother didn’t have someone else.
“I have a family who needs me in Ohio, too,” he said softly. “I understand what it’s like to put your own hopes on hold for the family. But your mammi doesn’t expect you to stay single forever.”
“No, but I’m the one who’s giving her more time in her beloved house. My freedom comes at the price of hers. I do care about them. Moe is wonderful, and my mammi does care for him a lot. She said so.”
“She does?”
“Yah.”
“I’m not trying to ruin their happiness, Sarai.” Arden swallowed. “Or yours. I promise you that. There’s more to it that I can’t explain. But I can’t just come back and help my grandfather stay on his farm. He’s already asked, and it’s impossible, and I have more reasons than just helping my family financially in Ohio. I have to pay some debts, and I can’t make enough here to do it. You’ll just have to believe me.”
Would she believe him? He wasn’t sure. But soon enough she’d know who he owed money to, and she’d think the worst of him. He picked up a butter knife, cut a piece of corn bread from the top of the pan and popped it into his mouth.
“You don’t have to do that, Arden,” she said.
He chewed, thoroughly tasting the corn bread. “It’s good,” he said. “A little burned, yah, but overall very good. Just because my grandfather knows something doesn’t mean I can’t learn from him, does it? That’s what I’m hoping to do while I’m here, anyway—learn a few things about starting a good life with a good woman.”
In Ohio.
Sarai smiled faintly. “Maybe you can learn a thing or two. We do appreciate your help today, Arden.”
That was the thing about Sarai: she didn’t waste a compliment, and he knew she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t truly mean it.
“It’s no problem.”
“Tomorrow, my daet is rounding up some neighbors to help us with the coop,” she said.
“I’m happy to pitch in,” he said.
“Okay.” She smiled then.
Arden looked over his shoulder at the table, and he cut another piece of corn bread, then nodded toward his chair.
“I’m still hungry, Sarai,” he said.
“Yah. Go eat,” she said, and she laughed and shook her head.
