Love Still Stands by Kelly Irvin

his right arm or leg. Daed struggled to feed himself, struggled
     to find words and make himself understood when he spoke. A strong, hardworking man
     reduced to being lifted from the bed into a wheelchair. His father hadn’t wanted pity
     and Elijah had never felt it. Only the love of a son for his father. In the end, his
     mudder hadn’t known her own son, so deep did the dementia run. Still, he hadn’t pitied
     her. Himself at times, but never his mudder. He missed her and thanked God she didn’t
     remember enough to know what she was missing. The birth of her grandchildren, the
     love of her husband, her memories, and the ability to make new ones.
    “Don’t look so wounded.” Bethel’s words startled him from his reverie. “I don’t mean
     to be mean. I just don’t…”
    “Want my pity.”
    “Anyone’s pity.”
    “I don’t pity you.” Elijah tugged the reins and the horse halted at the stop sign.
     No cars in sight. Quickly, he moved the wagon onto the shoulder of the highway and
     urged Daisy to pick up speed. Still no traffic. He moved them into the right lane,
     then picked up the thread of their conversation. “I wasn’t even thinking about you.”
    Her startled expression made him realize how abrupt those words sounded. “I mean—”
    “Then why do you look at me like that?”
    “Like what?”
    “Like you want to carry me on your back over the next mountain that comes along.”
    “It’s a habit, I guess.” Five long years of caregiving. Daed had gone first after
     another stroke. Mudder, after wandering through the house at all hours of the night
     looking for someone, had followed quickly, painlessly, in her sleep. “I’ll try to
     break it.”
    After that, Elijah didn’t bother to fill the silence. Memories of his childhood with
     nine older brothers and sisters fit snug like a warm coat around his shoulders, giving
     him comfort as they always did. Every one of them, from Silas on down, had helped
     with their parents. His sisters had cooked and cleaned. His brothers worked the land.
     But only he had stayed at the groossdaadi haus, taking care of their daily needs.
     His opportunity to marry and start his own family passed without him acknowledging
     it. Mary Troyer had been her name. She married Duane Weaver. Elijah had attended their
     wedding.
    Now that his parents were gone, he asked himself on long, silent nights if he’d missed
     any chance of having the life his parents had. He wanted it. Gott knew how much. He
     wanted a life with a fraa and children and backbreaking work in the field and coming
     home to a meal on the table and shining small faces smiling up at him at the end of
     the day.
    Most likely the woman sitting next to him could not give him that. He knew little
     of her medical problems, but she could barely walk, let alone carry a child and cook
     and clean. So why was he so drawn to her? Better to bury the longing and look elsewhere.
    Easier said than done.
    “I know you took care of your parents for a long time.” Bethel’s tentative voice fluttered
     on the morning breeze. “Do you feel like you have to take care of everyone now? Because
     I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
    She didn’t say the words, but still, the implication hung between them. Especially you .
    He shook his head. The woman liked to worry things, like a puppy that won’t let go
     of a stick. “How about this? I won’t look at you at all.” To reinforce the words,
     he stared at the road ahead. “I’ll keep my gaze on the ground whenever you’re around.”
    Silence swelled between them again. Then she laughed, a giggle that made her sound
     younger. It made him want to laugh with her, but he didn’t, in case she found fault
     with that too. “You don’t have to go that far. Just treat me like everyone else.”
    “I’ll do my best.” He meant that—sincerely. He would treat her like everyone else.
     He snapped the reins and Daisy picked up her pace. Time to find a