“Call back,” Rosetta suggested as she poured Deborah a glass of lemonade. “If Lily’s there, maybe she’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“Or Lavern and the younger boys might be out in the yard, near the phone shanty in case you call,” Mattie said. “I’m sure they’re all worried about your mamm.”
“If Dat took her to the hospital, it must’ve been pretty bad,” Deborah remarked. “He’s not one to put a lot of trust in doctors if he thinks bed rest will do the trick.”
Ignoring the lemonade, Deborah dialed her home phone number. It rang and rang, until the answering machine prompted her to leave a message. “This is Deborah, calling back about Mamma,” she said, trying to control her voice. Lily was worried enough, without hearing that her big sister was frantic, as well. “Please call back and tell me what’s happened. I’ll see about arranging a ride to Coldstream, but it might take some doing, as I don’t know many folks with cars. Let me know, okay?”
Deborah hung up and quickly drank her lemonade.
“Truman would drive you there,” Rosetta suggested.
“But he and Noah are working on their big job!” Deborah protested. “I can’t ask him to miss a day with his crew—especially when the weather’s so perfect for planting.”
The three sisters nodded glumly.
“And besides,” Deborah went on, “I want to be sure of what’s actually happened, and how bad Mamma is. Noah’s trying to be a gut sport about her wanting me to come home, but . . . but I hate to think about how long I might need to stay. I—I just don’t know. I want to be here, I want to be there—”
“It’s a gut time to remember that verse that says ‘be still and know that I am God,’” Mattie murmured. “If we all three pray on it—quiet our minds—we’ll be readier for the news about your mother when you get a call back.”
Deborah nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.
An immediate answer didn’t come to her. Neither did a phone call.
* * *
After another rough night of being awake for more hours than she was asleep, Deborah went to the kitchen early Friday morning. The red light was blinking on the message machine.
“Tell Deborah not to come home,” her father’s voice announced through the speaker. He sounded weary but firm. “We’ve got it all under control.”
So there you have it, she thought ruefully. He’s not telling us anything about Mamma, but he’s saying loud and clear that I’m not to show my face. That makes everything a lot simpler.
But it really didn’t.
* * *
When Noah replayed Eli Peterscheim’s phone message that evening after Deborah had gone to bed, he scowled. Although deep down he was relieved, because he doubted Deborah would defy her father and go home, the preacher’s tone made him very uneasy.
Did Eli expect young Lily to manage the household during Alma’s recovery? Why did he still consider Deborah so unforgivable? The preacher might believe he had the situation under control, but Noah sensed nothing was right at the Peterscheim place.
Noah joined Amos, who was seated at the small table in the kitchen. Deborah had left them a plate of frosted doughnuts after she’d wrapped the rest to sell at the produce stand. He chose one with sprinkles, nodding his thanks as Amos poured him a glass of milk.
“What do you make of Eli’s message?” he asked, and before the preacher could answer he blurted his own opinion. “He didn’t even address Deborah directly! And he didn’t say a thing about Alma, either, knowing she’d be worried sick about her mother.”
Amos shook his head. “I’ve known Eli a long time. Always considered him a little on the hard-boiled side, but his message sounded—”
“Cruel. Downright heartless,” Noah interjected. “And when you consider how Alma’s letter begged Deborah to come home—to stay in Coldstream and raise her family there—and then Lily sounded absolutely frantic when she left her message,” he recounted earnestly, “it seems to me the whole family’s a mess. Why won’t Eli accept Deborah’s help? Is he too proud to admit he needs her? Or too hard-hearted to forgive her?”
Amos’s brown eyes sparkled as he broke off a chunk of his doughnut. “Listen to you,” he said with a chuckle. “Couldn’t pry a word out of you when Deborah first showed up here, and now you’re spouting like a geyser. But I’m glad,” he added quickly. “You’re worried about Deborah instead of being wrapped up in your own little world. You’re a better man with her than without her.”
Noah savored the cakelike texture of the doughnut and its satiny chocolate frosting, deciding how involved he should become in the Peterscheims’ predicament. When he’d returned from work this afternoon, Deborah had looked like a rose dying on the vine. While he believed her when she said she loved him, she loved her family, too. She wouldn’t be the same open, affectionate young woman he wanted to marry until she reconciled with her father and saw to her mother’s injuries.
“I’m going to ask Truman to drive me to Coldstream on Sunday,” Noah stated. “I can visit with Deborah’s family. Find out what’s really going on.”
“Ah, but riding in a car on the Sabbath flies right in the face of the Ordnung, son,” Amos reminded him gently. “And while I admire your intention to check on the Peterscheims, you need to ask yourself if you’ll create more of a problem than you’ll be solving.”
“Well, I can’t go tomorrow!” Noah blurted. “Truman will be finishing another of his landscaping jobs, so he can’t give me a ride.”
“I’ve got a driver lined up for early Monday morning,” the preacher murmured as he chose another doughnut. “You’re welcome to come along, Noah . . . although the barn raising might be the furthest thing from Eli’s mind right now, with Alma not being well. Maybe I’d better be sure he still wants me to come.”
Amos went to the phone at the far end of the kitchen. He tapped the number pads, looking lost in thought until it was time to leave his message.
“Eli, it’s Amos Troyer. Wanted you to know all of us are concerned about Alma’s injuries and praying for your family,” he said in his resonant voice. “I’ve made arrangements to come to Coldstream Monday morning to lead the barn raising crew, but if Alma’s condition has changed your plans, let me know, all right? Let me hear from you one way or the other, friend. The Lord didn’t intend for us to bear our burdens alone.”
Amos hung up the phone. “Did I sound convincing?”
Noah shrugged. “He’s more likely to respond to you than to me. Guess we’ll see what he says when he calls back.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Saturday morning, Deborah joined Laura and Phoebe in the Promise Produce Stand bright and early, hoping folks would stop by to purchase the wide array of items they were displaying. Noah had told her that Amos had left a message for her dat to call him back, but they’d gotten no response yet. Deborah didn’t have much hope of receiving one. She’d sent up prayer after prayer during the night, asking that Mamma receive comfort and healing and that Lily would find the strength to shoulder all the tasks that had fallen to her.
She and the Hershberger girls stood taller when a car slowed down and pulled off the road. A middle-aged couple got out and studied the slats on their sign, which listed all the items they were selling.
“Gut morning,” Phoebe called out. “Thanks for stopping by our new stand.”
“Glad to see you folks taking over this camp,” the man remarked. “We live down the road a piece, and we were concerned that the buildings might start to deteriorate—or attract vandals.”
“Look at these beautiful vegetables!” the woman said as she picked up a bunch of radishes. “Get your sacks ready, girls. I love fresh produce but I don’t have time to garden.”
“We can be your gardeners, then!” Laura replied pertly. “We’ve got lots more veggies where these came from.”
“We’d better take some of these brownies and cinnamon rolls, too. A fellow can’t live on produce alone. It’s just not healthy!” the man teased
. He smiled at Deborah as he chose a plateful of brownies and a tray containing half a dozen cinnamon rolls. “Did you make these?”
“Jah, I did,” Deborah replied. Her spirits lifted as he also chose a tray of doughnuts.
“I know they’re fresh, then—better than anything in the store,” he remarked. “Give us a dozen eggs, too.”
Another car rolled to a halt alongside the road, and then another. Phoebe continued helping the first couple, while Laura and Deborah assisted the other shoppers. By the time this initial flurry of customers had driven off, they were amazed to have more than a hundred dollars in the cash box—and a noticeable dent in their supply of vegetables.
“My stars!” Laura said as she straightened the remaining bunches of green onions, lettuce, and peas. “I’m glad we bagged up some one-pound bags of the salad greens and green beans beforehand. And look how many trays of goodies you’ve sold, missy!”
Deborah grinned, feeling better than she had in days. Nearly half of her supply had sold already. “Denki for letting me try out my idea, girls. If you need to go fetch more bags, or pick more stuff from the garden, I’ll stay here.”
Phoebe took a quick count of their bagged greens. “We could probably use more onions and radishes, but I think at least two of us ought to be here in case we get several customers at once.”
“I know!” Laura piped up. “I’ll fetch more bags, and see if Mamm and Aunt Mattie might pick more stuff for us. They’ll be amazed at how fast everything’s going.”
Laura sprinted up the lane, holding her kapp to keep it from flying off. Phoebe turned on the two fans Amos had hung on the ceiling. “We need a clock,” she said. “We listed our hours on our posters, but we have no way of knowing when it’s time to close—not that I’m ready yet!”
Deborah nodded, but she was focused on an approaching white van that seemed awfully familiar. Its turn signal was blinking, and the vehicle was leaving the paved county road to start up the lane to the lodge—but then it stopped. The back door slid open and out jumped her two youngest brothers.
“Deborah, hi!” Menno called out.
“Surprise!” eight-year-old Johnny hollered. “Guess who!”
Deborah rushed out of the produce stand, too stunned to speak. As she grabbed her brothers, Lavern and Lily were hitting the ground, grinning as though they’d come on some grand adventure—as though nothing had gone wrong at home. “What’re you all doing here?” Deborah asked in a bewildered voice. “Lily, when you called about Mamma, I figured she might be all banged up, and in the hospital, and—”
“Well, I gave everybody a scare, for sure. But I’ll live to see another day now that I’m here with you, Daughter.”
Deborah gazed at her mother, and then jogged over to help her out of the van. “Mamma! Mamma, I was so scared when I heard you’d fallen, and—and—”
As her mother wrapped her arms around her, it was all Deborah could do not to burst into tears. “Seems that cardboard box of canning jars I dropped kept me from hitting the concrete floor full-on,” Mamma murmured. “And the lid was folded shut, so I didn’t get cut. I’ve got some bruised ribs, and I have to wear this awkward boot for several weeks while I hobble around on crutches. But the doctor says I’ll be right as rain after that.”
Thank You, Lord, for lots of little miracles. Deborah glanced at the gray contraption that encased her mother’s right leg up to her knee, and she noticed a purple bruise on the side of her neck, but otherwise Mamma seemed to be all right. It would do no good to ask why no one had returned their calls. Seeing her mother upright—having her entire family crowded around her—eased most of the worries that had plagued Deborah for the past few days.
Her dat chatted with the driver, Dick Mercer, as he paid him. Dat glanced briefly at Deborah, surrounded by her younger brothers and sister, before going over to the produce stand. “Looks like a lot of progress has been made at Promise Lodge already, if you’re selling vegetables from your new garden,” he remarked.
“Jah, we’ve been busy bees,” Phoebe agreed. “It’s our first day to be open. We weren’t expecting folks to come all the way from Coldstream to shop!”
Deborah was grateful for this lead-in to a possible explanation, because she hadn’t dared to ask why her whole family had shown up without letting anybody know. Her father’s expression remained unreadable beneath his black straw hat as he gazed at the trees and the arched metal Promise Lodge sign. “Seemed like a gut time for a family road trip,” he remarked. “Dick’s going to drive us to the lodge so Alma won’t have to walk—”
“And we won’t have to carry all those suitcases!” eleven-year-old Menno blurted.
“Let’s you and me run up there. It’ll be a race!” Johnny exclaimed. He drew a line in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “On your mark, get set, let’s go!”
Deborah chuckled at her two youngest brothers’ energy, even as she wondered how many suitcases they’d packed—which suggested more than a day’s road trip. “I’ll ride with you,” she murmured as she helped her mother turn around. “Everybody’ll be real glad to see you all, and pleased you’re doing so well, Mamma.”
As Lily and Lavern climbed into the very backseat, behind Deborah and her mother, her dat took his place in the front alongside Dick Mercer. Deborah’s heart was thumping wildly. Her father hadn’t spoken to her—but he wasn’t a man to ride for three hours without something other than recreation and visiting on his mind, either.
“Oh, look at the gardens—and all the trees and shade at the lodge building,” her mother murmured, clutching Deborah’s hand.
“Can we stay in one of those cool little cabins?” Lily asked.
“Can we fish in that lake?” Lavern chimed in. “Oh, here comes Queenie!”
“And there’s Laura on the porch with her mamm and her aunts,” Mamma said as she gazed through the windshield. “They’re a sight for sore eyes. Hasn’t been the same at home since they left us.”
“Roman’s still milking the Hershberger herd, then?” her father asked as he gazed toward the red barn.
“Jah, he and Noah and Amos are most likely out there now, finishing up some remodeling they’ve done in the loft,” Deborah replied.
She wasn’t surprised that when the van stopped, her father waved at the ladies on the porch and headed toward the barn. Queenie was barking, circling Johnny and Menno, while Mattie, Rosetta, and Christine were making much of the two boys. When Dick popped the latch on the van’s hatchback, Lavern and Lily squeezed out from behind Deborah’s seat and began to unload the luggage.
By the time she’d helped Mamma out of the van, the Bender sisters were surrounding them, exclaiming over their guests.
“Who could’ve guessed we’d see all you Peterscheims today?” Mattie said.
“This is the answer to our prayers about your condition, too, Alma,” Rosetta exclaimed as she reached in for a hug.
“You can stay in the cabins Deborah’s been painting,” Christine said as she grabbed hold of Lily and Alma. “We wouldn’t be nearly so far along with our preparations for new residents if she hadn’t been helping us.”
Deborah held her breath. Her mother appeared ready to reveal the reason behind their visit, or to make some other sort of important statement, but then she glanced toward the kids unloading the back of the van. “We’ve got a lot to say, and you know Eli will want to do the talking,” she murmured. “As for me, I’m ever so grateful that you’ve taken care of my Deborah—”
“Oh, we’ve been happy to have her!” Christine blurted.
“She’s been wonderful-gut help!” Rosetta declared.
“My Noah’s awfully glad she showed up,” Mattie joined in.
Mamma sighed, leaning heavily on her crutches. “I—I wish things at home had gone differently, the day after the fire,” she murmured as she clasped Deborah’s hand. “But when God closes a door, He opens a window or two. That day turned out to be a real revelation—a sign that important changes were in order.
”
Mamma glanced toward the barn. “Yesterday, when we learned that Isaac Chupp’s been stealing from Obadiah’s auction proceeds, Eli said he’d had enough. He hasn’t made any final decisions, but here we are.”
* * *
Noah sat beside his brother on a hay bale, listening in disbelief as Preacher Eli explained what had been happening in Coldstream. While he wasn’t surprised to learn that Isaac had been stealing from his dat, he certainly hadn’t expected to see the entire Peterscheim tribe arriving at Promise.
“It’s been all I could do to hold my tongue during this uproar with the bishop’s boy,” Eli declared with a shake of his head, “but I couldn’t believe Obadiah and his two oldest boys didn’t realize so much money was slipping through the cracks of their business! Where did they think Isaac got the money for a car, for crying out loud? Do you suppose they really didn’t know he had one, or were they turning a blind eye?”
Seated on the goats’ milking stand, Amos shrugged. “We’ve been speculating about those same possibilities,” he murmured. “I’m sorry this whole mess—two barns and Willis Hershberger lost, not to mention Deborah’s predicament—might’ve been prevented, had the bishop been paying closer attention to his reckless son.”
“You saw the writing on the wall before I did, Amos. I don’t feel gut about leaving the bishop God Himself chose for Coldstream, but I don’t feel right about my family being at risk there, either,” Eli replied. “I suspect our horses got turned out of the barn the other night because Isaac was perturbed at me for talking to the sheriff. Who knows what else he might do?”
Noah’s heart thudded. Did this mean the Peterscheims planned to live at Promise Lodge? Did he dare hope that because Deborah’s family would be within daily visiting distance, the young woman of his dreams could wholeheartedly make her home—her life—with him?
“If I pull up roots, I’ll be leaving the contractors and other contacts I’ve earned my living with,” Eli continued earnestly. “Promise Lodge looks like a nice place. But will I be able to find welding work? It’s awfully remote out here.”
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