As if the cue from Caleb was meant for him to set the key, Boomer let out a bark and, in a rare moment, the church rocked with happy laughter.
A week before Jonah and Lainey’s wedding, on a gray midwinter day, Caleb Zook dropped by Rose Hill Farm, looking for Bess. He found her in the greenhouse where she was checking to see that young rose graftings were protected from the cold.
He walked around the greenhouse, examining the plants. Bess was surprised to see him and wondered briefly if she had done something wrong. In Ohio, the bishop didn’t tend to call very often unless there was some unpleasant business to deal with. She could tell Caleb Zook had something on his mind and it was making her nervous. He slowly made his way to where Bess was working. She was wrapping plants in burlap and tying them with twine.
“So, Bess, have you thought about whether you’re going to let Simon know that he’s your real father?”
Bess froze. She hadn’t expected that. She looked at him. “You told me that could be my decision.”
“I still stand by that.”
She went back to wrapping the roses. “Jonah is my real father.”
Caleb took off his hat. “Yes, but—”
“I guess that’s my answer,” Bess interrupted. She surprised herself. Normally, she would never speak so forthrightly to an elder, much less interrupt one. But there was something about Caleb Zook that made her feel as if she could speak her mind to him. “Simon might be my actual father, but Jonah is my real father. Day in and day out, year after year. I just don’t think Simon needs to know anything different.” She gave him a direct look. “I have prayed long and hard about this, and for now, I would like to keep my secret.”
Caleb looked at her for a long while, then put his wide-brimmed black felt hat back on his head. “Then that’s how we’ll leave things.” He turned to go but stopped at the door and put his hand on the doorjamb. He looked back at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. For now. Maybe for a long, long time. Someday, though, I hope Simon will be told. It would be nice for him to know that his life has counted for something good in this world.”
Jonah and Lainey’s wedding day was sunny but bitter cold. Several friends came from Ohio for the event, including Mose and Sallie—now newlyweds—and Sallie’s rambunctious twins, plus Levi Miller, the boy who liked Bess overly much. His head and body were finally growing to fit his ears, Bess had noticed, relieved, when she laid eyes on him yesterday. And his hair didn’t stick straight up anymore. It usually looked like somebody had just held him under the water pump.
The furniture at Rose Hill Farm had been moved from the first floor to the second and the entire house had been cleaned. Tables were provided so that the meal would be served inside, but the barn would be where the wedding service would be held. The church wagon brought the wooden benches to fill the now bare floor. The church wagon provided dishes, glasses, and silverware, but one neighbor loaned their good dishes—with a pink rose pattern—for all of the tables. Other neighbors pooled their water glasses, pitchers for lemonade and coffee, cups and saucers, and small glass dishes for pickles and condiments.
Jonah and Lainey didn’t have any frills, but Bess was allowed to order paper napkins engraved with the name of the bride, groom, and wedding date: Jonah and Lainey Riehl, December 16, 1971. The Eck, the special corner table, was the place for the bride, groom, and the witnesses, Bess and Simon. It was draped with a royal blue tablecloth and held a small two-tier wedding cake that Lainey had made and iced herself.
For the last few days, it seemed nearly every female member of the church had been at Rose Hill Farm. These experienced cooks, all red with heat and hurry, were preparing the meals to serve to 250 guests. The menu for the noon meal included roast duck and chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing, cold ham, coleslaw, corn, homemade bread, two kinds of jelly in cut-glass dishes, and a variety of cakes and cookies. A second meal would be served later. Smaller though, since most folks would have need to return home for choring.
That morning, Bess helped Lainey get ready upstairs. Lainey had made the dark blue dress herself. She tried to pin the white cap on, but she kept dropping pins on the floor.
“Look at me, Bess! My hands are trembling!”
Bess laughed. “It’s an important day! You’re entitled to be a little nervous.”
She scooped up the pins from the floor and picked up a comb to brush Lainey’s hair into a bun. It was growing longer now and could at least be gathered into a small knot, but curls were always escaping along the nape of her neck. Bess sighed. Those were just the kinds of curls she had always wished she had. She placed the cap gently over Lainey’s head and pinned it into place.
They heard a car pull into the drive. Lainey went over to the window and gave a short gasp. Bess came up behind her. “Why, that’s . . . that’s Robin’s car. Look! There they are! Robin and Ally!” She turned to Bess. “Did you . . . ?”
Bess shook her head and smiled. “Not me. It was Dad’s idea. He went all the way to Harrisburg to invite them to come. Said they’re like family to you and it wouldn’t be a wedding day without them.” She laughed. “Can you imagine Dad in a beauty salon?”
Lainey clapped her hands together. “Oh Bess. I never dreamed that God would give me all of this. You. Jonah. Simon. I never thought I’d have a family of my own.”
Bess sat on the bed. “I think Mammi knew. But then she claimed to know when anyone in this town so much as sneezed.”
Lainey sat next to her. “You’re right. I think somehow she did. She always seemed to know things—”
“—even before they happened,” Bess finished.
They both laughed and stopped quickly when a knock came on the door.
“Bishop said it’s time,” someone said from the other side. “We’re just waiting on the bride.”
Late that evening, after most folks had gone home, the young people piled into a couple of buggies and went down to Blue Lake Pond for a bonfire on the shore. The air was biting cold and the wind stung Bess’s ears as she walked across the crunchy frosted shoreline to the huge blazing fire. The boys were still dressed in their Sunday best: black and white, with vests. The girls were trim and neat with crisply pressed white aprons under their dark capes. Before Bess sat down, she glanced behind the bonfire to the lake that unfolded before her, silvered by frost and moonlight.
Andy and Levi made a space for her between them. Exhausted but happy, Bess plopped down on the ground. She was surrounded by so many friends, new and old, all sitting in a great circle. It was peaceful here and she felt content.
The clouds that had been in front of the moon scudded past, and for a few minutes it was almost as bright as daylight. Bess noticed someone come up tentatively behind the circle, waiting, as if he wasn’t sure he belonged. It was Billy Lapp. She had seen him once or twice at church but hadn’t spoken to him since Betsy had left. He had been at the wedding service today, and she saw him sitting with Andy and other friends for the meals, but Bess was busy helping Lainey and her father.
A few people waved to Billy, but he held back and didn’t join in. His eyes sought out Bess’s before joining the circle. She smiled at him. Her welcome was real.
Somebody moved over to make space and Billy sat down in the casual way he always sat: legs apart, elbows on his knees. Andy Yoder began to sing and the others joined in. Their breath streamed out in white ribbons.
Bess’s gaze returned to the fire. She listened to the voices in the dark, happy to know that Billy was a part of things, spending time with all of their friends around the fire. But she was even happier to realize he no longer gave her such a stomach-dropping feeling. It wasn’t so long ago that being in such close proximity to Billy would have a physical effect on her. Her stomach would quiver, her cheeks would grow warm, her heart would pound, and her imagination would run away from her. Thoughts of Billy had filled her mind from the moment she woke until she fell asleep. She even imagined his face in the clouds, or in a fi
re such as this, or in the shimmering reflection off Blue Lake Pond. That was the way it had been for a very long time, ever since she had first met him.
Tonight, all she saw in the fire were flames and smoke and sparks. She looked up at the sky. Nowhere in the clouds did she see the handsome face of Billy Lapp.
Billy had been watching her. When he caught her eye, he pointed subtly toward the trees—a signal to meet him. Out of curiosity—or was it habit?—she slipped away to join him. They walked along the shoreline until they were out of view of the others.
Billy stopped and turned to her. He swallowed hard. “Bess, would you let me take you home afterward?”
Bess looked at him, her eyes went all around the face that she had loved so much, every line, every crease of the skin so dear to her.
If she agreed to go home with him tonight, it would be so easy. They would be back to where they had been before. In time, Betsy Mast would be forgotten.
But Bess would always wonder. What would happen if Betsy came back again? Or if she had never left? It was too much to ask. Bess didn’t want to wonder and doubt and worry anymore.
“No, Billy.” Her voice was gentle and polite and sincere. “But thank you anyway.”
His face was surprised and sad. More sad than surprised.
He began to say something.
“Bess, I do care for you . . .” Then he stopped.
Bess waited quietly. His words drifted on the still night air.
“I never meant to . . .” He stopped again.
“It’s all right, Billy,” Bess said. “Really.” It was all right. “Mammi used to tell me: ‘Gut Ding will Weile haben.’ ” Good things take time. She used to think Mammi meant food—like not rushing the making of a pie crust—but now Bess realized she meant other good things too. Like love. And the mending of a broken heart.
Maybe someday, when the time was right, Bess and Billy would find their way to each other. But maybe not. That time would be far off in the invisible future. And if there was one thing Bess had learned she couldn’t see at the age of fifteen, it was ahead.
She thought she saw tears in Billy’s eyes and looked away quickly. Then she walked quietly past him to go back to the fire to join her friends.
Discussion Questions
1. Conflict and reconciliation are central themes in The Search. Discuss the ways in which the characters come to peace with their past.
2. What kind of a woman was Bertha Riehl? As you were reading, what was your reaction to her? Did your opinion change over time?
3. As Jonah puts Bess on the bus to go to Stoney Ridge, he tells her, “Be careful because—”
Bess teased him that each time he said goodbye to her, even as she hopped on the school bus, he would add the caution, “Be careful, because . . .” Because . . . I won’t be there to protect you. Because . . . accidents happen.
What is Jonah really afraid of? How does he finally come to terms with that fear?
4. In one scene with her two visiting friends, Lainey defends her decision not to go to culinary school, as she had planned. “I’ve learned more about cooking in the last few months here than I ever could in a formal school. Here, food means more than nourishing a body. Sharing a meal nourishes a community.” What did she mean by that? In what ways is the Amish relationship to food and meals different from mainstream society’s?
5. Simon spent a lifetime trying to be “significant.” What finally spoke to his heart? Do you think his change was permanent?
6. What kind of future do you see for Bess and Billy? Do you think they will end up together? Or do you think Bess has outgrown Billy?
7. Do you think Bess will ever tell Simon that he is her biological father? Do you want her to tell him? Why or why not?
8. What did you learn about Amish life in reading this novel?
Acknowledgments
I’d like to express my deep appreciation to my family, near and far. To my sister, Wendy, and daughter, Lindsey, and good friend, Nyna Dolby, who generously shared their insights and also read an early draft of this manuscript. A heartfelt thanks for reading this manuscript with tough and loving eyes, offering candor and guidance. As always, enormous gratitude to my agent, Joyce Hart, for being so wise, warm, and steadfast. I’m very grateful to all the people at Revell, especially my editors, Andrea Doering and Barb Barnes, who make my books so much better.
And above all, abiding gratitude goes to the Lord God, for his wisdom on matters seen and unseen.
Suzanne Woods Fisher is the author of The Choice, the bestselling first book in the Lancaster County Secrets series. Her grandfather was raised in the Old Order German Baptist Brethren Church in Franklin County, Pennsylvania. Her interest in living a simple, faith-filled life began with her Dunkard cousins.
Suzanne is also the author of Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World, a finalist for the ECPA Book of the Year award, and Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life. She is the host of “Amish Wisdom,” a weekly radio program on toginet.com. She lives with her family in the San Francisco Bay Area and raises puppies for Guide Dogs for the Blind. To Suzanne’s way of thinking, you just can’t take life too seriously when a puppy is tearing through your house with someone’s underwear in its mouth.
Books by Suzanne Woods Fisher
Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World
Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life
LANCASTER COUNTY SECRETS
The Choice
The Waiting
The Search
www.SuzanneWoodsFisher.com
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Ads
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Ads
The Search (Lancaster County Secrets 3) Page 26