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Bernard wrapped the reins around the brake handle, then leaned back with a weary sigh. “Jo, he does. This time of being bedbound will be hard for him. But people in the community will help him. That’s what we do when a neighbor needs a hand. We lend one.”
Gil didn’t doubt the town would offer to help, but they had other responsibilities. Other than directing the men’s band, Gil had none. “I want to lend him both my hands. I want to stay with him while he recovers. I can do his chores, too.” Heremembered his commitment to replace Roald’s tuba, and he cringed. “I had hoped to find a paying job while I was in town—maybe helping with harvest or working at the mill—but I think taking care of Mr. Willems is more important.”
Bernard placed his hand on Gil’s shoulder. “Let me ask you a question, Gil. Are you doing this because you want to appease your guilt?”
Gil examined his motives. He felt responsible for Mr. Willems’s fall, but his desire to help came from concern for the man. “No, sir. He’s alone. He’ll need help. I don’t have a family or other duties taking up my time. It seems to make good sense that I help him.”
A tired smile tipped up the corners of Bernard’s lips. “Your uncle and aunt won’t be upset about you staying with Roald?”
“I doubt it.” Gil reflected on Joseph’s reaction to sharing the summer kitchen. “I think I’m mostly in the way there. I was already considering finding different accommodations.”
“Well, then, it seems the Lord has made you available for our friend Roald.”
Had God given Gil the idea of finding a different place to live because He knew Roald would take a tumble down the stairs?
“Maybe you could take over Roald’s job while his leg heals, too.”
Gil set aside his contemplation for later. “Where does he work?”
“He works for the post office, so I guess you could say he works for me. He delivers mail to people living outside the city of Falke. There are four routes, and he takes a different route each day, Monday through Thursday. And Friday he goes fishing.” Bernard chuckled. “Or so he always told me. If he’s laidup, he won’t be able to drive the routes. Do you think you could do it?”
It had been years since Gil rode a horse or drove a wagon, but he was confident he could do it. The hard part would be finding all the houses. He wasn’t familiar with the area anymore. “Does he have maps to follow?”
“Maps?” Bernard scratched his cheek. “Well, I suppose I could draw you some maps.” His shoulders slumped. “But not until tomorrow. It’s too late to think about that now.” He climbed down from the carriage and moved to the horse. The mare nosed his neck as he released it from its riggings. “Come into the house with me. It’s too late for you to go to your uncle’s place.” Bernard led the horse to a stall. “You can sleep in the boys’ room.”
Gil hopped down from the carriage but didn’t head for the door connecting the house and the barn. If he went inside, he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink knowing that Ava’s room was across the hall. Especially since she wouldn’t know he was there. What if she came out in the morning in her sleeping clothes? He’d be mortified. And so would she. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather stay out here in the barn.”
Bernard came out of the stall, swishing his palms together. “You won’t be comfortable in the barn.”
“There’s fresh hay, and I can cover up with one of the horse blankets.” Fond memories tugged at him. “Joseph and I spent lots of nights in our barn before my parents died. I’ll be fine.”
“Well…” Bernard sighed. “Ach, boy, I am too tired to argue with you. You sleep in the hay like Little Boy Blue. In the morning, I will come get you for breakfast and draw a map for Wednesday’s route.”
“Thank you, Onkel Bernard.” But as Gil raked hay into apile for his mattress, he hoped he would awaken before anyone came to fetch him for breakfast. He needed to retrieve his suitcase and belongings from the summer kitchen, talk to his uncle and aunt about moving into Mr. Willems’s house, and find out who could repair the damaged tuba.
Joseph
Joseph rubbed thesleep from his eyes and sat up. He tossed aside his covers and stood, his gaze drifting to Gil’s cot. Gil’s empty cot. Joseph squinted through the scant early morning light, confusion muddling his thoughts. Was Gil up already? He crossed to the cot and examined it. Gil’s nightshirt lay folded on the pillow, just as he’d placed it yesterday morning. Gil hadn’t come back last night.
Something must have happened to him after the band’s practice. Their property was only a half-mile distance from the edge of town, but even a half-mile walk at night across the prairie could be dangerous. Had he stepped in a gopher hole and broken an ankle? Perhaps encountered a rattlesnake or a prowling mountain lion? Ranchers had nearly wiped out the large cats, but there were still some sightings. Worry propelled him across the floor. He scrambled into his clothes. He needed to alert Ma and Pa. They should search for Gil right away.
As Joseph snapped his suspenders into place, the summer kitchen door opened and Gil stepped in. Joseph’s worry switched to anger. He balled his fists on his hips. “Where have you been?”
Gil crossed to his cot. Bits of hay decorated his dark brown hair and stuck to his clothes. Two little pieces of hay drifted to the floor as Gil sat on the edge of the squeaky cot. “There wasan accident after band practice. Onkel Bernard and I took Roald Willems to Aiken to the doctor. We didn’t get back until late, and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I slept in the Flamings’ barn.”
Joseph relaxed his fists. He didn’t much like the idea of Gil staying at the Flamings’ place, so close to Ava, but the hay peppering his clothes confirmed he’d been in the barn, not in the house. “What happened to Mr. Willems?”
“He broke his leg.” Gil looked down.
There was more to the story, but Gil apparently wasn’t going to share it. Joseph huffed. “You could have sent a messenger so I wouldn’t have been worried when I woke up and you weren’t here.”
Gil raised his face. Remorse pinched his features. “I’m sorry. When the accident happened, all the other men had already gone. There wasn’t anyone there to send.”
He’d obviously gone for Mr. Flaming’s carriage. Couldn’t he have asked Ava to send someone? But it was hard to think clearly when things were happening fast. Joseph leaned against the bureau. “Will Mr. Willems be all right?”
“It will take a while. He might need surgery. Even without surgery, he’ll be bedbound.”
Joseph made a face. “That’s too bad. But folks in town will help him out.” Pa would probably send Joseph to help, too. The tradition of loving their neighbors. He knew it well. It’s how they ended up with Gil eleven years ago.
