A Mother's Love

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “If God be for us, who can be against us?”

  Rose smiled as that important Bible verse came to mind. “And if Bishop Vernon and Bishop Jeremiah are doing God’s work, who can be against us?” she murmured.

  She returned to the apartment, smiled at her sleeping daughter, and drifted off to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  * * *

  Anne sat on the sofa with her head bowed, clasping her white-knuckled hands in her lap as Saul vented his fury. Although his diatribe had already lasted longer than his visit with the bishop, she had a feeling he wasn’t nearly finished with her.

  “As if it hasn’t been enough that we’ve met that Rose and her chatterbox daughter,” he continued, his strident voice filling the room, “Matthias Wagler came in while I was at Shetler’s house. He wanted to put in a gut word for you and Rose—tried to convince me that none of this deception was your fault or hers, as though I should just sweep it under the rug and forget about it! I almost told him to take a hike. I don’t need a partner who’ll side with my wife instead of with me.”

  Anne hugged herself, a new wave of anxiety roiling her stomach. Martha Maude had gone upstairs to bed, but she couldn’t help hearing every word of Saul’s rant—and she was probably ready to end the partnership with Matthias as well. “What do you want me to do?” Anne rasped. The tears streaming down her face were making Saul angrier, but she couldn’t hold them back. “I’ve told you the truth—”

  “Jah, and lucky for you, Bishop Jeremiah refused to shun you, as I requested,” Saul interrupted.

  “—and no matter what I say, you keep yelling at me,” Anne continued doggedly. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but how was I to tell you about my daughter? Would you have married me if you’d known about Rose when we were courting?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  Anne squeezed her eyes shut against a welling up of despair. “Please, Saul,” she murmured, “will you forgive me? May we please reach a truce so—”

  “It’s all or nothing,” Saul stated harshly. “The way I see it—”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Martha Maude insisted as she came down the stairway. She was still dressed, with her hair still pulled back tightly beneath her kapp, even though she’d gone to her room when Saul had left the house. “We need to sleep on this matter so we’ll be better equipped to deal with it in the morning.”

  “You’re not sleeping in my bed,” Saul said, pointing his finger at Anne.

  Anne nodded. Her head was throbbing and she was grateful to Martha Maude for coming downstairs to quiet her son. “Let me just get my nightgown—”

  Saul’s brow furrowed. “I see no reason for you to set foot in my bedroom—”

  “Saul! For the love of God, stop arguing!” Martha Maude planted a fist in her hip and glared at her son. “I’m going to ask Bishop Jeremiah to come over tomorrow and—”

  “He’s leaving town. He’ll be here at seven o’clock Friday night.”

  Anne saw her chance to fetch a few things from the bedroom, but as she walked quickly toward the stairway, she didn’t miss Martha Maude’s deepening scowl. “Fine. And when were you going to tell us about this?” she demanded. “Truth be told, we’d already invited Rose and little Gracie and Matthias here for supper Friday, before this ruckus blew up—”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Saul demanded loudly. He exhaled, struggling for control of his emotions. “Well, you get your wish. Jeremiah told Matthias to bring Rose over when he’s here, anyway. Oh, it’s going to be quite an evening—as though we’re one big happy family, jah?” he added sarcastically.

  Anne paused at the top of the stairs. She was relieved to know the bishop would be coming over, but how could she endure Saul’s wrath for two more days before Jeremiah arrived? She was aghast at the tone her husband was using with his mother as well, for the two of them were usually of one accord.

  “It would be a major improvement if we behaved like a happy family,” Martha Maude finally said. “I’m as appalled as you are to hear about what happened in Anne’s past, but what’s done is done, Saul. Go to bed. And don’t you ever raise your voice to me again.”

  Anne scurried down the hallway to grab her nightgown and clothing for Thursday. As she left the bedroom, where she’d slept nearly every night of her married life, she prayed for wisdom and the strength to face her husband at the breakfast table. She decided to sleep in the guest room that was farthest from Saul. As she passed Martha Maude’s room and the two other guest rooms, she was again reminded that their five-bedroom house had been built to accommodate the children that had never blessed their marriage.

  Does Saul think I’ve secretly used some form of birth control? Does he believe I stopped wanting children because I’d had a daughter by another man? Lord, I don’t know what to do—how to respond to his demands.

  When she heard her husband’s heavy footfalls on the stairs, followed by his mother’s, Anne quickly shut the door of her guest room. Plenty of times she’d witnessed Saul’s impatience with people who fell short of his high mark, and she’d occasionally felt the sting of his irritation when food wasn’t cooked to his liking or she didn’t make decisions quickly enough to suit him. This current flood of his wrath, though, threatened to pull her under until she drowned in anguish.. . .

  Anne knelt at the side of the bed and began to pray. In her mind, she saw Rose and Gracie. When she found the strength to give thanks for their presence in her life, a sense of hope filled her soul. Somehow she would get through tomorrow and Friday until Bishop Jeremiah and the others arrived to decide her fate—and Saul’s, too.

  Saul must come to a point of forgiveness, or at least quiet tolerance. Right now, Lord, quiet tolerance sounds wonderful. Your will be done.

  Chapter 30

  Matthias was startled when someone banged on his door Thursday morning. The sun was barely a peach-pink ribbon on the horizon, and he’d just showered and dressed after tending the horses. He turned off the burner beneath his eggs before going to the front room to answer the door. A tingle of nervous goose bumps raced up his back when he glanced through the glass. Saul was standing on the stoop.

  “Gut morning, Saul,” he said as he opened the door. “I wasn’t expecting—”

  “Jah, well, a lot of things have happened that I wasn’t expecting, either,” the tall, broad-chested man snapped. Saul stepped inside before Matthias could invite him. He held some rolled-up papers, and while he gazed around the front room—as if to decide whether the house and its furnishings met his expectations—he tapped the papers against the palm of his hand.

  “Come on back to the kitchen. I was just frying up some eggs,” Matthias said, gesturing for Saul to precede him.

  “Add three more to your skillet. We need to talk.”

  Matthias’s stomach rumbled with more than hunger as they headed into the kitchen. Why hadn’t Saul eaten breakfast at home? Were those rolled-up papers their partnership agreement? As he went to the refrigerator for more eggs, he wondered how to tactfully ask these questions—but Saul wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

  “Call me crazy, but until I get this story about Anne straightened out—and the bishop prescribes her punishment—I don’t trust anything she puts in front of me,” he said as he sat heavily in the chair at the head of the table. “If she kept her sordid past and her illegitimate daughter such a secret, who can say what she might put in my food?”

  Matthias turned from the stove to frown at Saul. “That’s the last thing I’d expect of your wife,” he asserted, lighting the flame under the skillet again. “Far as I can tell, Anne doesn’t have a mean—or vengeful—bone in her body.”

  “So much for what you know about her,” Saul retorted. “How long did you figure to keep Anne’s secret from me, Wagler? We’re partners—or at least these papers say we are. If I learned something relevant about your wife, I’d certainly let you know so you could deal with it—fix it—before all hell broke loose.” Saul slapped the pap
ers against the tabletop with a flourish, crossing his muscled arms after the pieces of paper fanned across the wooden surface.

  Matthias flinched. He focused on cracking four additional eggs into the skillet without getting pieces of shell in them . . . decided to scramble them all, because the whites of his original eggs were already opaque. “The way I see it, such matters should remain between a man and his wife,” he said cautiously. “I didn’t know you were at Jeremiah’s when I went there last night. I was going to speak to him on Rose’s behalf, because she was worried about her mother.”

  “Worried about Anne? That’s rich,” Saul said with a snort. “You’ve seen the life she lives in the home I’ve provided her.”

  Scowling, Matthias turned to look at Saul. “You know what?” he murmured. His heart began pounding so loudly he could barely hear himself think, but he had to state his case. “After what I witnessed last night at Jeremiah’s—and what I’m hearing now—I’m seeing you in a whole different light, Saul. A man who’s become such a successful carriage maker has to have a lot of business smarts and be savvy about people, yet you’ve lost all sense of reason where your wife’s concerned,” he continued in a rush. “You’ve blown Anne’s one mistake, committed during her rumspringa, completely out of proportion.”

  “Huh.” Saul rose and began to pace around the kitchen, going from window to window. “Are you saying you want out of our partnership? Saying you don’t trust my judgment?”

  Matthias stirred the eggs with the edge of his spatula and liberally seasoned them with salt and pepper. He wasn’t surprised that Saul had brought up their partnership—it was probably the reason he’d come over. Matthias was in no hurry to end it, so he spoke carefully.

  “I’ve said no such thing, Saul. I suspect you’re questioning my loyalty merely because I showed up at Jeremiah’s when I did,” he reasoned aloud. “Had I arrived fifteen minutes after you’d left, you’d be no wiser and you wouldn’t be doubting the solidity of our relationship. This situation has nothing to do with your carriage business or our being partners, Saul.”

  “Jah, it does,” Saul countered loudly. He snatched up the papers, tapped their bottom edges on the table, and ripped the stack in half, side to side. The sound of the paper tearing made him smile. “I don’t tolerate insubordination from my employees, and I won’t have a partner who deliberately keeps important details from me. It’s a matter of trust. A matter of respect.”

  Matthias pressed his lips tightly together, struggling to keep a straight face. Although he might be better off personally if he didn’t have to deal with Hartzler’s mercurial moods, he saw his new harness business limping along like a lame horse. Saul would now tell his carriage customers that Wagler Harness and Leather Shop was not a reliable place to buy their tack. In the small town of Morning Star, where Plain folks from all around did their shopping, Matthias would have a hard time staying in business.

  If I were a severely injured horse, you’d put me out of my misery, Saul. The stray thought startled Matthias—and he realized he was playing into Hartzler’s flair for drama. At this moment, he couldn’t foretell the future of his business or his relationship with Saul, but they both needed to eat.

  Matthias divided the eggs between two plates and carried them to the table. He grabbed the loaf of store-bought bread from the counter and sat down, waiting for Saul’s response. When Hartzler looked at his plate as though he might not eat what he’d been offered, Matthias bowed his head, hoping Saul would do the same.

  Stick with me, Lord. I’ve been tossed into the lion’s den, and I need to keep my head on straight. Denki for this food and Your presence in every moment of our lives.

  When Matthias opened his eyes, Saul did, too. Saul poked at his scrambled eggs before taking a bite, and then took a slice of bread from the bag. His expression lightened a bit. “You could use a wife, Wagler,” he teased. “You do all your own cooking?”

  Matthias wasn’t sure how to take Saul’s remark—or his apparent change of mood—but he decided to answer straight on. “Jah, I do. In Willow Ridge, I had a sister-in-law cooking for me, and before that, my wife, Sadie,” he replied as he spread apple butter on his bread. Martha Maude had given him the apple butter, but he wasn’t going to mention that. “Since Sadie died, while carrying our first child, I’ve learned how to make do without a wife. But I don’t recommend the single life. From where I sit, the wealth you’ve accumulated from your carriage shop is nothing compared to the rich life you live with Anne. Just my opinion.”

  Saul appeared ready to start in on another diatribe, but something made him back down. “Jah, whatever,” he muttered as he took another bite of his eggs.

  “I intend to marry Rose someday,” Matthias continued in a purposeful voice. What did he have to lose by expressing his intentions? “I believe Anne and Rose should be free to enjoy a close mother-daughter relationship—and include little Gracie in it—without any backlash from you, Saul. Again, just my opinion. But there you have it.”

  Saul’s eyes widened. He slathered a thick coating of butter and apple butter on his bread, not saying anything.

  Had Saul begun to see reason? Matthias wasn’t going to stake the future of his harness shop on it, but at least his partner had stopped ranting. Their meeting with Jeremiah would tell the tale.

  * * *

  “I’ve told you that Gracie and I will be staying over tonight, jah?” Rose asked Sherrie as the two of them began setting the tables for supper. “I should drive home early tomorrow so I can get our household chores done, but—”

  Sherrie gently grasped her arm. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she said, gazing kindly into Rose’s eyes. “You can do your laundry here, in our machines—I’ll show you how they work, if you need help. If it’s easier, stay the entire weekend and relax, because by this afternoon you’ll have already prepared our meals for the weekend. That room is yours for whenever you and Gracie want to stay in it.”

  “Denki for offering again to let me do our laundry here,” Rose whispered, shaking her head. “I—I didn’t want to push the wrong buttons and mess up the washer.”

  Rose swallowed hard. In the quiet of the dining room, where just the two of them worked while Gracie practiced writing her letters at her desk in the kitchen, she felt the urge to confide and confess about more serious matters than laundry. Sooner or later, Sherrie would hear that Anne Hartzler was her mother, so it might be best for Rose to break the news herself. She’d been so keyed-up these past couple of days that sharing her situation with Sherrie might make her feel more confident about the outcome of tonight’s meeting with Bishop Jeremiah.

  “Gracie and I will be going to the Hartzlers’ house tonight,” Rose began hesitantly. “We were originally invited for dinner, but now we’re meeting there with the bishop because—because Anne’s husband figured out that she’s my mother. My birth mother, anyway,” she added quickly. “Anne gave me up for adoption when she was only sixteen, and now her husband’s really upset about—well, he’d had no idea she’d borne a child before she married him.”

  Sherrie gaped. She set her stack of plates on the table so she wouldn’t drop them. “Have you always known this, Rose? Did you know Anne and Martha Maude that day they came with their shawls and lap robes?”

  Rose shook her head. “I recognized her because of some letters and a portrait of her I found after my adoptive mother passed. I had no idea Anne lived in Morning Star, or that I would ever see her—”

  “My word, Rose, what a revelation!” Sherrie said in an excited whisper. “This is surely God’s hand at work—Him leading you here, and then bringing Anne into your life again as well.”

  Rose smiled ruefully. “Saul doesn’t feel that way,” she murmured. “When Gracie and I go there tonight with Matthias, I can only hope Bishop Jeremiah will somehow soften Saul’s heart. Gracie will be crushed if she’s not allowed to see Anne and Martha Maude anymore.”

  Sherrie wrapped her arms around Rose’s shoulders and h
ugged her tight. “I’ll keep you all in my prayers. Tonight’s meeting sounds like one of those scary, life-altering events that we dread, but sometimes we have to go through the valley of the shadow in order to come out in the light on the other side.”

  Rose nodded, comforted by Sherrie’s wise words. “Denki so much for understanding,” she whispered. “And denki for all you do for Gracie and me. I hate to think about where we’d be without your support and this job you’ve given me. I’ve started paying off some of Mamma’s long-standing medical bills, thanks to you.”

  Sherrie smiled as she released Rose. “No matter what happens tonight, everyone here loves you and Gracie, and we consider you part of our family,” she murmured. “It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, Rose.”

  As they finished setting the tables in companionable silence, Rose prayed that their time at the Hartzler house would be positive and productive. Sherrie’s gracious acceptance meant so much, and it gave Rose a reason to believe that everything would indeed work out, because God had a plan for them. And He never failed.

  Chapter 31

  “I’m glad you’ve brought your colored pencils and paper tonight, Gracie,” Matthias said as he drove his buggy out of the senior center’s parking lot and onto the street. “Your mamm says you’re a gut artist, and I’m looking forward to seeing your pictures.”

  As Gracie beamed up at Matthias, Rose took a deep breath to settle her nerves. “I’ve explained to Gracie that tonight’s conversation will be very serious, so she’s to keep quiet unless someone speaks to her.”

  Matthias’s smile stilled some of Rose’s anxiety. “Could be that because Gracie’s there, Saul’s temper won’t get ramped up as much,” he remarked. “I don’t know how Anne has been doing since you met the three Hartzlers in the park, but I can’t imagine that Bishop Jeremiah—or Martha Maude—will allow the discussion to get out of hand.”