It was loud. It was messy. It was the most beautiful thing Lena had ever seen. After supper, the older children cleared the table while Jonas tended to the younger ones. Lena found herself washing dishes alongside Ruthie, their hands moving in companionable silence.
Pa says you came for Mr. Reddick, Ruthie said eventually, her voice carefully neutral. Yes. I'm sorry it didn't work out. Lena glanced at the girl.
Ruthie's face was closed, guarded, the face of someone who'd learned early to protect herself from disappointment. So am I, Lena admitted. Ruthie was quiet for a moment, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a bowl. Are you going to stay? Or leave when the rain stops?
It was the question Lena had been avoiding all evening. She didn't have an answer. Didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or the day after, or the day after that. I don't know, she said honestly. Ruthie nodded, like this was the answer she'd expected.
Well, if you do stay, even just for a little while, it's nice having another woman around, just so you know. It was said so softly, so carefully, that Lena almost missed the longing underneath. This girl, barely 15, carrying the weight of a household on her shoulders. Trying to be mother to her siblings, trying to be strong, trying to fill an impossible void. It's nice being here, Lena said.
Just so you know. Ruthie's lips curved in the smallest of smiles before she ducked her head, focusing on the dishes again. By the time the kitchen was clean, the younger children were yawning. Jonas herded them upstairs to the loft, their voices drifting down through the ceiling, protests about bedtime, requests for stories, the shuffle of small feet. Lena stood by the fire, warming her hands, listening to the sounds of a family settling in for the night.
It was foreign and familiar all at once, like a dream she'd had long ago and forgotten. Jonas came back downstairs, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly disheveled from wrestling children into bed. They'll be asleep in 10 minutes, he said. The little ones, anyway. The older boys think they're going to read by candlelight, but they never make it past a page or two.
You have a beautiful family, Lena said. Jonas looked at her, something soft in his expression. Thank you. They're good kids. A handful, but good.
An awkward silence fell. Lena knew she should say something, should offer to leave in the morning, should thank him profusely for his hospitality, should explain herself, her situation, her plans. But she had no plans, no explanations that didn't sound pathetic, nothing to offer but gratitude that felt inadequate in the face of such unexpected kindness. Mr. Hale, she began.
Jonas, he corrected gently. Jonas, I I don't know how to thank you for what you did today. You didn't have to help me. You didn't even have to stop. But you did.
And I Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard, tried again. I want you to know that I won't be a burden. I'll leave as soon as I can figure out where to go. I just need a day or two to Miss Crowell, Jonas held up a hand, stopping her.