“If only we could see what that reason was.” He pulled Meg to a stop at the end of Hebron’s lane.
“Then we wouldn’t need faith, would we?” she asked gently.
“I reckon not. You don’t need to come in Monday unless you really want to. I gave Leonard and Gerald the day off. They’ve both put in a lot of long hours, and so have you.”
She nodded and got down. She paused and turned to face him. “I’m glad that Esta has come to her senses. You two make a nice couple.”
“You and my mother,” he said in disgust. “I’d like to choose my own wife, if you don’t mind.”
“I know it isn’t any of my business, but I hope you don’t hold the things I said in anger against Esta. I was wrong to repeat gossip. I would hate to think that I ruined something between you.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. You just have a way of making me look at things differently. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He turned the horse around and drove toward home. As he drew even with the road that led to the lake, he stopped and turned in. He wanted to see if he had a letter. More than that, he wanted to tell his friend about the decisions he’d made.
It took him a while to find the right place. He was used to coming down from the north end of the lake. Once he spotted the faint path leading around the east shore, he left his buggy and walked through the trees.
Roman hoped he might run into his friend on a Saturday evening, but the small glade was empty. There was a note in the jar.
Dear Friendly Fisherman,
I hope your coworker is becoming less of a headache. I think I may have misjudged mine. We are finding our way with each other. I couldn’t have done it without you. My mother always used to say a friend is like a rainbow, always there for you after a storm. Thanks, my friend.
A Happy Angler
P.S. I followed your sound advice and searched for my coworker’s strengths. I’m happy to say I have discovered that there is much more to him than I first thought. He is committed to taking care of his family, he has a wonderful sense of humor and he is a fine worker. Thank you. Without your wise words, I might have continued to overlook his good qualities and focused only on his failings. I find that I like him a lot.
Roman sat back with a smile. He took out his notebook and pen and wrote.
My Friend,
We really do have a lot in common. How wise God was to put us in touch with each other. I don’t see my coworker as a headache anymore. In fact, I’m finding I like her a lot, too. Much more than I ever thought I would.
He tapped his lips with the tip of his pen as he decided what else to say.
* * *
“I’ve decided to meet my pen pal.”
Joann could barely believe she’d spoken aloud. She glanced at her cousin Sally to gauge her reaction. Sally and her family had come for a visit. It was the off Sunday, the one without a church service, and families frequently traveled to visit each other on that day. The women were gathering morel mushrooms in the woods beyond the house. Sally’s little sister and Joann’s nieces were playing tag up ahead of them.
“Are you sure you want to do that? What if he is Englisch?” Sally’s tone was grave.
Joann walked along with her eyes scanning the ground. “If he is Englisch, well, I can have an Englisch friend.”
“Just stop writing him.” Sally bent to pick two morels from the base of a tree.
“You haven’t read his letters. We share so many of the same doubts and hopes. It has nothing to do with being Amish or being Englisch. We’re two people trying to find a way to accept God’s plan for us.”
“I know you feel a connection to this person, but he may not feel the same connection to you.”
“I don’t believe that.” Joann spotted a small cluster of mushrooms and moved toward them.
Sally followed her. “Has your pen pal ever suggested that you meet?”
Joann had trouble meeting Sally’s eyes. “No.”
Sally stopped and took Joann’s hands between her own. “I am the last person who should be giving anyone advice on matters of the heart, but I’m afraid only heartache will come from this meeting.”
“I’m not some giddy teenager. This isn’t a matter of the heart.”
“Isn’t it? Aren’t you secretly hoping that your pen pal is a handsome, single man?”
Joann pulled away from Sally. “What if I am?”
“Oh, Joann.” Sally shook her head sadly. “He’s far more likely to be old, fat, bald and married with a half dozen children or just as many grandchildren.”
Tears blurred Joann’s vision. “Don’t you see? I have to find out. I know that I’m not pretty. I know that I’m not likely to marry. This person respects what I think and how I feel. If it’s an Amish grandfather who loves fishing as much as I do, that will be wonderful. We’ll be friends and go fishing together as often as possible and I won’t feel so lonely.”
“And if he should be a handsome, unmarried Englischer?”
Joann didn’t answer. Both she and Sally knew such a relationship would be forbidden. The only way she could sustain such a relationship would be to leave their Amish community.
Joann turned away from Sally. “I have to know.”
She had pined for Levi, but Sarah was the wife God chose for him. Now, she was growing fond of Roman and it seemed that Esta was the one for him.
Joann picked another mushroom and dropped it in her basket. Who was the man for her? “Tomorrow, I’ll leave him a note asking to meet.”
“If he refuses?”
“I’ll stop writing him.”
If he agreed to meet, what would happen after that?
* * *
Roman didn’t have to go in to work early on Monday, so he made his way to the lake. The Happy Angler frequented their spot in the mornings. He had hopes of running into her today. He wanted to meet his friend in person.
He reached the grove of trees and followed the path toward their fishing hole. He rounded the last bend in the path and stopped in his tracks. A woman was sitting on the fallen log. She had her back to him, but she was dressed plain in a gray dress with a white kapp covering her hair.
He took a step off the path into the cover of the woods. His unknown friend was here? It didn’t seem possible.
He checked the area for signs of other people. He didn’t see anyone else.
The woman turned around with a jar in her hand. It wasn’t a stranger. It was Joann, and she held his letter.
Joann Yoder was the Happy Angler? He couldn’t believe it.
She tucked the jar in the hollow of the log and picked up a fishing pole, the very pole he had pulled from the lake a few weeks ago. He was too stunned to move.
He tried to think of everything he had written. Written about her! Not much of it had been flattering. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that she was the one reading his musings. She really would dunk him in the lake if she found out.
Did she know he was the one reading her letters?
No, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t said anything specific about himself. He took a step back. He had to think this over. He’d become increasingly fond of Happy Angler. How could she be Joann? He tried to reconcile the two in his mind. He had learned to respect Joann. She had a sharp mind and a fine measure of humor. He’d even started to care about her as a woman, but he wasn’t sure she returned such feelings. She practically had him married to Esta, but something in the way she looked at him the other evening gave him hope. He’d seen longing in her eyes, but was it a longing for him?
What would she think when she discovered she had been writing to him all this time?
Would she be pleased or mortified? The last thing he wanted was to cause a new break between them. This was going to take some careful thinking. He needed to be certain how she felt about him before he let on that he was the Friendly Fisherman.
He needed to be certain she was the Happy Angler. Maybe she’d s
imply stumbled on this location and accidentally found the letter jar.
He dropped to a crouch and waited for her to leave. She fished for a while, but didn’t catch anything. Soon, she put her rod and tackle box inside the large end of the log and stuffed some grass into the opening.
She hadn’t stumbled on this place by accident. He crouched lower as she walked by. When he was certain she had gone, he went to the log and pulled out the jar. His note was gone and there was a brief one in its place.
Dear Friend,
As much as I have enjoyed our correspondences, I feel it’s time we met in person. I have so much I want to say to you.
Sincerely,
The Happy Angler
The handwriting was the same. Without a doubt, Joann was the one. Someday, he hoped they would look back on these days and laugh about their secret correspondence, but he wasn’t laughing yet. He was in trouble.
He pondered how he could make this could come out right as he walked home. The longer he thought about it, the more panicked he became. His brother was crossing the yard. He stopped. “I thought you had gone to work?”
Roman pulled off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair “Not yet. It’s her. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“What are you talking about?” His brother looked at him as if he’d gone crazy. Maybe he had.
Roman began pacing. “Joann Yoder.”
“I still have no idea what you are talking about.”
Roman spun to face him. “I went to the lake today, and she was there. I can’t believe this.”
“I’m still not following you. Why should you care if Joann Yoder was fishing at the Lake?”
“She wasn’t fishing. She was writing a letter.”
“I wrote one last month. It’s not that amazing that she knows how to do it.”
Roman shook his head. “Remember the letter I left for the person whose rod and reel I pulled out of the lake?”
“Sure. He left you a lure as thanks.”
“That wasn’t the only letter I wrote. We’ve been exchanging notes ever since, only I thought I was writing to a woman who liked to fish. I never once thought the letters I received came from Joann Yoder.”
“Wait a minute. You’ve been exchanging love letters with Joann Yoder and you didn’t know it? What a hoot!” Andrew started laughing.
“They weren’t love letters.” He began pacing again.
“It’s still funny. You and the old maid leaving notes for each other in a hollow tree. That’s priceless. Did she know it was you?”
Andrew’s question stopped him. Did she? He found it hard to believe. There hadn’t been anything in her demeanor or her notes that suggested she was aware of his identity. “I don’t think so.”
“I reckon you should tell her the truth. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when she finds out. She’s bound to think it was a prank on your part.”
That was exactly what he was afraid of. Roman tried to sort out his feelings. The comforting letters that had sustained him through the past few weeks showed him a completely new side of Joann. He thought he knew her. Now he realized he barely knew her at all. That would have to change, and she would have to get to know him, too.
Andrew chuckled. “I’ve got to get back to work. Tell me how it turns out. The old maid and you, what a hoot.”
After his brother left, Roman went in his house and pulled open the drawer of his desk. He took out the letters Joann had written and began to study them. The sound of a car approaching made him look out the window. The sheriff was getting out of his SUV. Roman went to the door and stepped out on the porch to greet him. “Good day, Nick Bradley. What can we do for you?”
“I stopped by the office. Mable from next door said you had given everyone the day off. I hope everything is okay.”
“Everything is fine.”
“That’s good to hear. I got a copy of your uncle’s magazine in the mail this week. It had a license plate number stapled inside. Would you know anything about that?”
“Ja, I put it there for you.”
“I figured it might be from you. Can you tell me if you know a woman named Jenny Morgan?”
“Nee. Who is she? Was she involved in that sad business?”
“I mean to find out if she was involved or not. Thanks for your time, Roman.” He touched the brim of his hat, got into his vehicle and drove away.
* * *
“What are you reading?”
Joann looked up to find Roman watching her intently. How long had he been standing there?
She was getting ready to start her half day at the bookstore, but she had come to town early so she could stop at the library first. It was such a beautiful summer day that she had decided to read for a few minutes on the bench outside.
She marked her place in the book with the ribbon and closed it. “How are you?”
“Fine. Is it a good book?”
She slipped it into her bag. “I like it.”
“Would I like it?” There was something different about his voice today. It was softer, gentler and yet teasing.
Or maybe she was just imagining things. “I doubt it.”
“It must be one of those romance novels.”
She raised her chin. “There is nothing wrong with a story about two people falling in love.”
“I didn’t say there was. I believe in love. Who wrote it? Maybe I’ve even read it.” He reached for her book bag. She grabbed the strap. After a brief tug-of-war, he wrestled it away from her.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Has anyone told you that you are a bully?”
“Nope.” He opened the bag and pulled out her book. His eyes widened in surprise. “Successful Freshwater Bass Fishing. That has to be the most romantic title I’ve ever heard. Don’t tell me how it ends. I have to read it now.”
“Ha! Ha!” She snatched the book away from him. He let her take it.
She stuffed the book back in her bag. “Very funny.”
“I try. Seriously, I didn’t know you liked fishing.”
“Everyone likes fishing.”
He sat down beside her. “A lot of people like to go fishing, but not a lot of people like to read about it.”
“Well, I like to do both.” She rose and started walking.
He stood and followed her. “Where are you going?”
“To work.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She scowled at him. What was wrong with him today? He wore a goofy grin, but he looked nervous.
He fell into step beside her. “Tell me more about the fishing you do.”
“Why?”
“You may find this hard to believe, but I enjoy fishing, too.”
“What an amazing coincidence!”
“I’m serious. My grandfather used to take me when I was little. I loved sitting on the riverbank beside him and listening to his stories. I didn’t even mind if we didn’t catch anything.”
“Really?” She looked at him in surprise.
“Okay, I enjoyed myself a lot more when the fish were biting.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. I was just surprised because that’s how I learned to love fishing. My grandfather took me with him. He was very old then, and he walked with a cane, but he could look at a stretch of water and tell you right where the fish were. He had a gift. I was named after his wife. I think that’s why he liked being with me. Those were the very best days.” Joann blinked away the tears in her eyes and hoped Roman hadn’t noticed.
He said, “I’m sure he liked being with you because you were a charming child.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Now I know you’re making fun of me.”
“How can you say that?”
“I wasn’t a charming child. I was plain.” And all but invisible to the people she wanted most to be loved by. Her mother had been sick throughout Joann’s childhood. Her father spent all his time caring for her and ignoring his lonely daughter.
“If you
r grandfather inspired your passion for fishing, who inspired your passion for books?”
“I’m not sure. As soon as I learned to read it was like the entire world opened up and invited me in. I could read about places that are far away, have adventures along with the people in the stories. I was hooked.”
“I didn’t discover books until I started working for Otis. He opened my eyes to what books can do for people.”
“That’s what I loved about working for him. How is he?”
“Doing well. He should be out of the hospital by the end of the week.”
“That’s great.”
By this time they had reached the printing office. Roman held the door open for her. She said, “I’m working at the bookstore today.”
“Oh, right. Say, my brother and I sometimes go fishing. Maybe you can join us one of these days.”
“Sure.” She smiled and turned away. He was just being polite. She knew the trip would never materialize.
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went into the office and closed the door.
A second later, the door popped open again. He leaned out and said, “I mean it, teacher. We’ll go fishing soon.”
She giggled and nodded. “Okay, soon.”
She spent the rest of the day smiling as she worked. Her heart was warmed by his thoughtfulness.
Chapter Fourteen
On Saturday afternoon, Joann was on her hands and knees sweeping paper shreds from beneath the largest press when she heard her name called in a secretive whisper. She looked behind her to see Sally peeking under the press.
“How did it go? Your meeting with your pen pal. How did it go? Is he fat and bald?”
Joann crawled out and stood up. “I have no idea. He hasn’t been back or at least he hasn’t left another letter. Why are you whispering?”
Sally looked around then took a step closer. “Believe me, Joann, exchanging secret letters with a total stranger is not the kind of thing you want getting out. Do you think he’s avoiding you?”
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