Waiting for Summer's Return Read Online Free PDF Page B

youthful face. “Pa, how long did it take for you to not feel so sad about Ma dying?”
    Peter stroked his beard, considering Thomas’s question. This was one moment he was glad Grossmutter did not understand the English. “There are days, son, when the sadness still sits like a stone in my chest. Sadness comes sometimes when I look at you and think how proud she would be of you.”
    Thomas paused in his eating. His chin quivered. “Would she be proud of me, Pa?”
    “ Ach, but yes,” he said, reaching across the table to tousle Thomas’s hair. “Who could not be proud of a boy like you? Even when he falls from trees!”
    Thomas grinned. “Oh, Pa.”
    Peter picked up his spoon. “Finish your breakfast, son. You will have studies to do and you will need a full belly for your brain to think.”
    “Excuse me.”
    Peter turned in his chair to see Frau Steadman in the doorway. He rose, his eyes involuntarily sweeping from her toes to her hair. She wore a different dress than the blue wool. This one was the same green as the leaves of the cedars that grew along the Cottonwood River. Like the blue one, it hung loosely. As Thomas had said, she looked skinny. But she had obviously made use of the well. Her face was shiny clean and her dark hair damp where it was swept back from her face. The circles under her eyes did not indicate a restful night for her.
    He smiled a greeting and held out his hand. “Please, Frau Steadman, come in. Sit down. I will get a bowl for you for mush.”
    She entered the house, her focus touching first Thomas then Grossmutter before returning to him. “I honestly couldn’t eat a bite.”
    Peter did not want to argue with her, yet he could not allow her to starve to death on his property. “If mush does not appeal, I can go to the henhouse for an egg.”
    “Thank you, but no.”
    Peter clamped his jaw, worry and irritation mingling in his chest. She must eat, but he could not force her. Lieber Lord, what do I do? An idea struck, and a grin tugged at his cheek. Instead of addressing the woman, he turned to his son and shook his head with great sadness. “I am sorry, Thomas, but no lessons for you today.”
    “Pa?”
    “Disappointed I know you are, son, but I cannot allow Frau Steadman to teach you.”
    The woman moved forward one step, her skirts sweeping the floor. Her dark eyes snapped. “Why not?”
    “We agree—trade schooling for room and food. I cannot accept the schooling if you do not accept the payment. So …” He shrugged at Thomas. “No lessons today.”
    Thomas understood. While his eyes sparkled, he pushed his lips into a pout. “But I’m so far behind.”
    “You will have to study on your own, son.” Peter touched Thomas’s hair and brought forth a sorrow-laden sigh while Thomas played along, slumping his shoulders in disappointment. Peter peeked at Frau Steadman. Would it work?
    She glared at him with narrowed eyes, her lips pursed in irritation. Finally she threw her hands outward. “All right. I’ll eat.” She crossed to the table and pushed Peter’s empty bowl aside, seating herself with a straight back and raised chin. “But don’t think for a moment I don’t know what you’re up to. And I won’t always be so easily manipulated.”
    “Ma-nip-u-lated.” Peter scowled. “I do not know what this means.”
    Her chin thrust out. “Oh, yes you do.”
    With a shrug in Thomas’s direction, Peter got a clean bowl and plopped in a great lump of mush. He added a dollop of molasses and doused it with cream, then set the bowl and a spoon in front of the woman. Standing beside her chair, he waited until she took up the spoon, stirred the contents into a semismooth consistency, and brought a small bite to her mouth.
    Grossmutter continued eating while observing the woman with her sharp scrutiny. Peter could not tell what she was thinking.
    Thomas, still sitting on the other side of the table, also watched. “Mrs. Steadman? You didn’t say grace.”
    A blush