The Search (Lancaster County Secrets 3)

by Suzanne Woods Fisher

  Raindrops started to splatter their faces as they hurried back into the greenhouse. Inside, the air was warm and musty. Billy made an assembly line with rootstocks and slips. First, he dipped the slips into a powdery substance to help the root take, then carefully matched each slip to a rootstock branch before wrapping it with gauze. “Roots may not be glamorous, and they aren’t even seen, but they’re the source of a rose’s strength,” he told her, as if he were a teacher and she a student.

  “Like people,” Bess murmured.

  “How’s that?” he asked absently.

  “It was in one of the sermons last week. ‘If our roots go deep in the knowledge of God and our lives are hidden in Christ, we’ll be strong. More likely to survive the storms of adversity.’ ” She surprised even herself by remembering what the minister had said. It was Lainey’s influence. The more time she spent with Lainey, the more interested she became in spiritual things. Lainey quizzed Bess and Jonah after each church service. She understood more and more Deitsch now and was eager to piece together what she was learning. Her enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m thinking of joining the church,” Bess said aloud to Billy. She had been considering it, but it gave her a shiver to say it aloud. It seemed more real.

  Billy glanced at her. “I already did. Last year.” He put away the powder. “If you know it’s right for you, no point in putting it off, is the way I see it.” He brushed one palm against the other. “But you are awful young. Not sure the bishop would allow it.”

  She rolled her eyes at that slight. She was, after all, nearly sixteen. She doubted Billy was much older when he became a member. He had joined at a younger age than most boys did, but that didn’t surprise her. Billy wasn’t like most boys. In many ways, he seemed already grown-up, solid and unwavering. Except when it came to girls. In that area, Bess thought, his judgment was quite poor. Abominable.

  Billy liked to talk while he worked, and Bess loved listening to him. Today, he told her that he wanted to buy his own farm as soon as he turned twenty-one. “No mortgage, either. I’ve been saving every penny. I want to own my land free and clear. You see, land is a trust, Bess,” he said, starting to sound like a preacher. “I think it’s something you hold onto for a lifetime. Something a man passes on to his sons. And his sons pass on to their sons. Land should be cared for and improved in every generation—just the way your grandparents have done here at Rose Hill Farm—and that way, we’re passing on a legacy.”

  Bess studied Billy as he worked. She felt keenly aware of every detail. She liked being this close to him. The rain was coming down hard now, soughing on the roof above them. She pretended for a moment that she and Billy were married, working side by side on their farm. Talking together, laughing together, making plans together. She wished this moment wouldn’t come to an end, wished she could stretch the morning and make it last forever. Why was it that three hours in school felt like a week, but three hours with Billy Lapp felt like mere minutes?

  The morning melted away too soon. The rain ceased and a bright sun flooded the space with light as Bess fell more in love with Billy than ever. Unfortunately, he showed no sign of feeling anything more for her than a kind of platonic friendship. But he hadn’t mentioned Betsy Mast all morning. That thought made Bess happy.

  And then it was noon and Mammi was calling to Bess to stop for lunch, which meant Billy would head home. She sighed. Time spent with Billy was always over too soon.

  Dear Robin and Ally,

  Work at the bakery is going well here in Stoney Ridge. So well that I’ve even given some thought to postponing culinary school. But don’t worry; I haven’t decided anything for sure.

  Love,

  Lainey

  At lunch one day, Bess mentioned to Mammi and her father that Lainey would be dropping by later in the afternoon. Afterward, as Bess was washing dishes at the kitchen sink, she happened to glance out the window and notice her father by the pump. His head was under the pump. Then he skinned off his shirt and was washing his entire upper region. He was soaping seriously and Bess grinned. Her dad had never said so, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he and Lainey were growing sweet on each other. They shared smiles with their eyes and stole glances at each other when they thought no one was looking. But Bess saw and it suited her just fine. She had a hope for her father and Lainey, but she knew it was best to keep that thought quiet. She knew when to leave things be.

  When Lainey arrived at Rose Hill Farm, Mammi was over at the Yoders’, helping to clean the house for church that weekend. Another neighbor had come to ask for Jonah’s help to catch a runaway horse. The house was empty but for Bess and Lainey. This afternoon was working out better than Bess had even hoped.

  She told Lainey she was going to teach her how to sew using a treadle sewing machine.

  Lainey looked dubious. “I can’t even sew a button on my blouse.”

  “Good news,” Bess said. “No buttons.” She laid out a few yards of dusty plum–colored fabric and spread a thin tissue pattern over it. As soon as she had smoothed it all out over the fabric, she pinned one edge and pointed to Lainey to start on the other side.

  “What are we making?”

  Bess smiled mysteriously. “A dress.”

  After cutting out the pieces, Bess threaded the machine and started to push the pedal with her foot, causing the needle to go up and down at a steady speed. She sewed one seam and then turned it over to Lainey. “You do the other side. Just sew a straight line.”

  It took awhile for Lainey to get the rhythm, to pump her foot steadily so the machine would work. “You made it seem so easy, Bess. It’s harder than it looks!” But then it came together. She held up the shapeless dress. “Done!”

  “Not hardly,” Bess said. She took two sleeves and pinned them to the main section. “Watch carefully. Curves are trickier.” She whipped off one sleeve and let Lainey take her place.

  After Lainey finished, Bess held it up and frowned. “Pull out the stitches and we’ll do it again.”

  So Lainey did. Two more times until Bess was satisfied. They worked the rest of the afternoon and took the dress downstairs to press out the wrinkles.

  Bess showed Lainey how to light the pilot light for the Coleman iron. They drank sweet tea while they worked in the kitchen. Lainey ironed the dress and held it up for Bess’s approval. “There you go! A new dress for you.”

  Bess shook her head. “Not for me. It’s for you.”

  Lainey looked stunned, so Bess added, “I don’t know if or when you feel the time will be right to start wearing our garb, but I thought it would be good for you to have a dress. For when you’re ready.”

  Lainey looked at the dress. “Should I try it on?”

  Bess nodded, pleased. “There are pins on my bureau top.”

  Lainey felt strange, taking off her blouse and skirt and putting on this Amish dress for the first time. She wasn’t even sure what kind of underwear they wore. She forgot to ask Bess. Did women even wear brassieres? Well, she would be wearing one today, that’s for sure. One step at a time.

  She slipped the dress on and tried to figure out how the pins should be placed so they wouldn’t work themselves loose. She had heard a taxi driver who came into the bakery complain about all the loose pins he found in his cab’s backseat after driving Amish women on errands. She folded the front pieces across each other and tried not to jab herself as she pinned them shut. Bess and Bertha never seemed to complain about the pins, but she knew they would take getting used to. Laid out on the bed were a prayer cap and a white apron. Lainey smiled. Bess had this all planned out ahead of time. She hesitated for a moment, but then decided to try them. She slipped the prayer cap on her head. It perched uneasily on her curls. She was growing out her hair, but she knew the covering probably looked silly. She tried to tuck her hair back under the cap. She had watched Bess do it one day and was shocked to see how long her hair was. Below her waist! She told Lainey it had never been cut.

  Lainey put pins through the c
ap to hold it in place, the way she’d seen Bess do it. Then she pinned the apron into place and turned around slowly, trying to decide if she felt any different. She had pins holding her together from head to waist. There wasn’t a mirror, so she wasn’t as self-conscious. She had been wearing less and less makeup the last few weeks and hadn’t even missed it. Well, the first day or two she had felt practically naked, but then she relaxed. She even started to like feeling less made-up, more natural. Maybe that’s another secret the Amish have, she realized. If you aren’t looking in mirrors all the time, you aren’t thinking about how you look all the time. Your mind is freed up for other things.

  She went downstairs to show Bess. Moving quietly as she always did, she found Bess washing dishes by the kitchen sink and said, “Well, what do you think?”

  Bess whirled around, startled, dripping soapy suds on the floor. “Oh Lainey! Seller Frack bekummt dich!” That dress becomes you! Then her eyes darted nervously to the other side of the room.

  Lainey looked to see what had distracted Bess. Jonah was standing by the door, staring at her. “Ya. Ich geb ihr allfat recht.” Yes, I agree with her. His smile got lost somewhere in that quiet moment.

  Now, Lainey felt different.

  Dear Jonah,

  It has been over four weeks since you left. Mose has been working as hard as a pack of mules for you, but he did take time out to stake the tomato plants in the garden for me. And take us for a picnic down by Miller’s Pond. And he built a treehouse for the boys with leftover wood from the furniture-making business. He said you wouldn’t object. Would you?

  Yours truly,

  Sallie

  P.S. The celery patch is nearly six inches tall!

  It took Jonah a few days to get up his nerve to tell his mother about the blood test not being a match for Simon. He had dreaded this conversation. He waited until Bess had gone to the barn, and then he quietly told her. He sat sprawled in his chair, one arm hooked over the back.

  “I know,” Bertha said. “They sent a letter with the results.” Out of her apron pocket she pulled a letter from the hospital.

  Jonah closed his eyes. “How long have you known?”

  Bertha looked up at the ceiling. “Let’s see. A week.”

  Jonah rubbed his forehead. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to agree to it.”

  “Bess is old enough to make the decision for herself.”

  “She’s still a child.”

  “Fifteen years old is no child. Why, when I was a girl—”

  “I know, I know,” Jonah interrupted. He’d grown up hearing plenty of hardship stories that started with that sentence. “There’s a remote chance, anyway, that Bess would be a match. Why take the risk?”

  Bertha slapped her palms on the table and glared at him. “Why not?”

  Right then, Jonah realized that the simplest, easiest thing to do would be to have Bess take a blood test. That way, the results would show his mother what he already knew—that Bess could not possibly be a match. “Okay.” He surrendered his hands in the air. “If she agrees to it, Bess can have the test.”

  He thought his mother would be ecstatic or, at the very least, satisfied. He was giving her what she wanted. Instead, her gaze shifted to the window. From the look on her face, it seemed as if she just had a sense of something dreadful coming to pass.

  That night, Jonah asked Bess to sit out on the porch with him to watch the sunset. She knew he had something on his mind. It was a clear night. They watched the sun dip below the horizon and the sky turn a bruised blue. Then he told her about his mother wanting her to get the blood test. Bess sat on the porch steps, hugging her legs, with her chin leaning on top of her knees as she listened to him.

  “I want you to pray about this tonight. I don’t want you feeling any pressure to have the test.”

  Bess turned her head toward him. “You were willing to give Simon your marrow, weren’t you?”

  Jonah nodded. His heart ached in a sweet way when he saw the earnest look on her face. “I was willing, but that doesn’t mean you have to. The blood test is pretty simple, just a prick in your arm. The marrow test is a much more complicated procedure. You’d have to have general anesthesia and stay in the hospital, and it will be a little painful. The chance of you being a match is highly unlikely. I can almost rule it out. It’s just that your grandmother . . . well, you know how she can be once she gets an idea in her head.”

  Bess lifted her eyebrows. “Sie is so schtarrkeppich as an Esel.” She is as stubborn as a mule.

  This time Jonah had no trouble smiling. “It seems very important to Mammi that we at least rule it out.”

  Bess shrugged. “I guess I can understand that. Simon is her brother.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you have to do this, Bess. If you’d rather not, I would never make you do it, no matter what Mammi has to say about that.”

  “But you were willing. To give Simon your bone marrow.”

  “I was willing.”

  “And Mammi was willing?”

  Jonah nodded again. He knew his daughter’s tender heart. “Bess, I don’t know if he . . . deserves such mercy.” He told her the entire story, all that he knew, about Lainey and her mother and how Simon treated them. He was surprised to realize that Lainey had never mentioned Simon to Bess. He knew the two had grown close this summer. He could see Bess was shocked when she learned Simon was Lainey’s stepfather. She grew quiet for a long time. Jonah wondered why Lainey had never told her, but then he decided that she was probably protecting Bess. Knowing what he knew of Lainey, he thought she was trying not to influence Bess one way or the other.

  They sat quietly for a long time, watching the stars fill the sky. Finally, Bess lifted her head and gave him a soulful look. “Simon may not deserve our mercy, but Lainey is always telling me God has a different perspective on mercy.”

  Those words cut into him as real as a sharp knife. That old disquiet filled him again, gripping his chest like an actual pain. He had discovered something about himself this summer—something that shamed him deeply. He had believed in God all of his life, but did he truly believe God was sovereign over all? Did he believe that God’s ways were truly merciful?

  Fifteen years ago, he would have said yes. But after the accident that killed Rebecca, a part of him had stopped counting on God the way he had before. As if God couldn’t entirely be trusted.

  And so Jonah had run. He had run from God, the same way he had run from his memories. It was too difficult to remain in Stoney Ridge, driving by the accident site nearly every day where Rebecca had died, constantly reminded of what he had lost.

  Lainey had just as many reasons to leave Stoney Ridge as he did, yet here she was. Back, facing the very things that haunted her. She was even willing to face Simon in the hospital. When she had come out of Simon’s ward into the hallway, the look on her face nearly sliced his heart in two. It was filled with sorrow, but not for herself.

  It was filled with sorrow for Simon’s lost soul.

  Billy hadn’t been planning to go to the gathering tonight. It was Bertha Riehl who pinned him to the wall to go and take Bess along too. That woman had a way of getting what she wanted. She didn’t ask directly, she just stared at you until your knees buckled and you caved in.

  He wasn’t in much of a party mood, and hadn’t been, and probably never would be again, since Betsy Mast’s departure. He still couldn’t believe she had up and gone. He had had so many plans for their future together. As soon as he turned twenty-one, he was going to buy some land to farm. He knew just the kind of house he wanted to build for himself and Betsy: it would have a southern exposure, and a barn on a right angle, and a pond to fish and swim in. A pond that would be safe from polluters.

  In his vision, his father and brothers would see what he had done—bought a parcel of fine land, married the most sought-after girl in the district, started a thriving business—and they would treat him with respect, not just as the baby of the family.
Der Kaschde. The runt of the litter, his brothers called him.

  But that dream was gone now. What irked him most was that he thought he knew Betsy. He thought she would want the same things. It still stunned him that she was gone. She had left her family, her church. She had left him for another man.

  Bess had told him once that he had made up the idea of Betsy in his head. Maybe he didn’t really know her at all, she pointed out.

  He glanced over at his cousin Maggie, talking a mile a minute, and Bess on the other side of her. Bess was in a cranky mood today. The day had started out fine. She had been helping him get some plants ready to sell to a customer this morning, and he told her his latest theories on Betsy’s departure. She grew quieter and quieter, like she was getting a headache, and didn’t say goodbye to him when her grandmother called her in for lunch. Girls could be like that, he was learning. Moody and unpredictable.

  As soon as they reached the yard where the gathering was held, Billy jumped down, tied up the horse, and sauntered off to join his friends at a game of volleyball. He didn’t even notice where Maggie and Bess had gone until Andy Yoder pulled him aside.

  “Who’s that?” Andy pointed across the yard to a tight knot of girls.

  “Who?”

  “The blond.”

  “The skinny one? That’s Bess. Bertha Riehl’s granddaughter.”

  Andy snorted a laugh. “Maybe you need eyeglasses. She ain’t so skinny now. Seems like she’s got a different shape up above.” He handed the volleyball to Billy and walked across the yard to meet Bess.

  Billy watched Andy make his way to sit next to Bess. It occurred to him that Bess was going to be quite a nice-looking girl. It was a thought he’d never had.