Where the Heart Leads by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page B

mangling.”
    Thomas, thinking of the effort it took to push and pull the box of rocks over cloth-wound rollers, agreed with Pa.
    Belinda smiled, tipping her blond head. “It isn’t the task of mangling that gives me pleasure, but I do appreciate the comfort of pressed, softened sheets on my bed. Besides, arbeit macht das Leben süz .”
    “For sure, work sweetens life,” Pa agreed, his grin wide. He scratched his beard, winking in Belinda’s direction. “I tell Summer what you say about the mangle house. But maybe she decides to sweeten her own life with the mangling, hmm?”
    Belinda and Pa laughed softly together, as if sharing a joke. A weight pressed in Thomas’s chest. He felt oddly alone standing under the sun while his pa and Belinda Schmidt enjoyed a shared moment of amusement. He opened his mouth to suggest they head in for lunch, but suddenly Pa’s expression turned serious.
    His arms crossed over his chest, Pa said, “How is your mother doing now, Belinda? I have not seen her in Sunday service for many weeks.”
    Immediately, Belinda lost her sparkle. Her shoulders slumped, and she ducked her head. “Mama is . . . having a hard time, Herr Ollenburger. I’m worried about her.”
    “Well, losing her husband is a hard thing.” Pa’s kind, serious tone brought Belinda’s head up. “We will keep praying for her heart to heal. And I will send Summer over with some honigkuchen . That will be goot, ja ?”
    Belinda’s eyes flew wide. “Oh, no! Honey cookies take so much effort, and your wife has three little girls to care for each day.” She swallowed hard. “Besides, Mama wouldn’t eat them. I can hardly get her to eat anything.”
    Pa’s frown expressed concern. “Not eating is normal when one has suffered loss.” He stroked his beard again, his expression solemn. “Well, if no cookies we send, at least we send Summer. She understands your mother’s pain of loss. Maybe she can give words of comfort.”
    Belinda blinked rapidly. “Thank you, Herr Ollenburger. Perhaps a visit from Summer would do Mama good.”
    Pa gave Belinda’s shoulder an awkward pat. “We will be praying. God restores joy.”
    A sad smile appeared on Belinda’s face. “Thank you.” She backed up, waving her hand toward her house. “I’d better go in. I need to put a meal on the table. Good-bye, Herr Ollenburger.”
    Thomas followed Pa across the alley toward the back door of the little house. “Since when are you friends with Belinda Schmidt?”
    Pa gave Thomas a puzzled look. “Have I been her enemy?”
    “No. But friends? With the Schmidts?” Thomas raised one brow. He could never remember Herr or Frau Schmidt making any effort to befriend Pa. Especially after he took Summer as his wife—a woman not raised in the Mennonite faith—the Schmidt family had looked down their noses at the Ollenburgers.
    Pa frowned. “We must not judge, Thomas. Belinda is a fine girl. She cares for her mother and sister, and all without complaint.” He pointed a finger, making Thomas wish he could shrink into the sparse blades of grass. “You do not hold grudges based on her behavior as a little girl. She is no longer that little girl, and the Bible tells us to forgive seventy times seven.”
    Thomas cleared his throat, offering a meek shrug. “Sure, Pa. I don’t hold a grudge.”
    Pa’s expression cleared. He threw his arm around Thomas’s shoulders and herded him through the door. “Then let us eat and return to work. It is goot for man to labor hard, ja ?”
    Thomas followed Pa to the kitchen, where his little sisters dashed forward to grab Pa’s legs and beg to be held. Thomas stood to the side, feeling left out again. As he watched his father stoop down to catch all three girls in a hug, he suddenly wondered why Belinda hadn’t wished him good-bye before scampering off into her own house.
    And then he wondered why it bothered him.

6
    T HE AROMA OF DINNER greeted his nose as Thomas stepped through the back door. As he