Seasons of Sugarcreek 03. Autumn's Promise

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Antsy, he got to his feet and paced the length of his home. He’d need to help Lilly learn how to do laundry. He imagined some of the neighbor ladies would need to show her how to can and care for the house.

  But as he turned a corner, he looked around again, and tried to imagine the rooms from Lilly’s point of view. Suddenly, the cozy rooms and clean lines didn’t look as perfect as he liked.

  And perhaps they were dirtier than she was used to as well. He made a mental note to try and mop the floors.

  Most likely, she’d never lived in a home as plain and simple as this one. To a foreign eye, the simple two-story house might seem small and bare.

  What if she didn’t care for it?

  When a car pulled into his driveway, he looked through the window and at first saw that it needed some cleaning. Then, with a start, he realized Lilly had come.

  Seeing him through the window, she gave a little wave. Feeling like a lovesick fool, he waved right back. Then hurried to the door and opened it.

  Dressed in black slacks and a vibrant blue sweater, he thought she looked beautiful. Lilly’s coloring of dark blond curls and deep brown eyes seemed to offer the perfect palate to anything she wore.

  Of course, he was so taken by her, Robert was sure that almost anything she wore would look pretty to him. Already, he was imagining her dressed Plain. Even a gray dress wouldn’t diminish the glow she seemed to exude.

  Hesitantly, she stopped just a few steps away.

  Which in turn made his fanciful thoughts break into a thousand pieces. Something was new with her. Something different, and it didn’t look to be treating her well, either.

  “Lilly, I’m glad you came to visit. But it’s a surprise, to be sure.”

  “Is it a bad time?”

  “Of course not. But did you need something? What are you doing here?”

  “I thought we needed to talk,” she murmured as she stepped closer. Close enough for him to smell the scented shampoo she seemed to like so much.

  And close enough to see that her eyes were a little puffy around the edges, as if she’d been crying.

  “I went by your shop, but it was closed. So I took a chance that you might still be here.”

  Oh, what a blessing her presence was. “I’m glad you found me. What did you want to discuss?”

  “Can we sit somewhere? Do you have time?”

  “I have time.” Belatedly, Robert noticed that her expression wasn’t especially carefree. No, she looked like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Before he could offer a chair, she sat on his front stoop.

  Cautiously, he sat beside her. “Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know.” A wayward curl sprung out of her ponytail and caressed her face. With an impatient tug, she pushed it behind her ear. “Gretta had her baby.”

  “Did something go wrong?” He’d heard she’d delivered, but hadn’t asked for any details. It wasn’t a man’s way to ask, anyway.

  “Oh, no. She’s fine. And the baby is, too. It’s a boy.”

  “Well, then. That’s a blessing.”

  “It is. Elsa and Frank are so excited, too. All of the Grabers are. His name is William.”

  Robert sat quietly as he waited for her to let him know what else was on her mind.

  His patience was rewarded when she licked her bottom lip and spoke again. “Caleb wasn’t at the hospital, though. Did you hear about what happened to him?”

  “Nee.”

  “He, um, he went off with some kids and got in a car accident.” Tilting her head toward his, she looked at him worriedly. “He’s okay, though. But he was taken to the police station. We had to pick him up there.”

  “We?”

  “I was having ice cream with the Grabers and they needed someone to drive them.”

  “Ah.” Robert didn’t know what she was expecting from him. He wasn’t shocked that a teenager was drinking, or that an Amish teen had been in the company of some English ones.

  “Frank and Elsa were really upset with him.”

  “I would imagine so.” When she sent him another meaningful look, he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re wanting to hear from me, Lilly,” he said honestly. “I feel sorry for Caleb and his parents, but I’m not all that surprised. Teenagers do all kinds of things they’re not supposed to.”

  “I sure know that.”

  There was bitterness in her voice. Ah, was that what all of this was about? She was troubled by her past again? Or worse, worried that he was troubled? “Everyone makes mistakes, Lilly. The Lord doesn’t expect perfection.” He swallowed. “I…I don’t expect it, either.”

  “Robert, I’m trying so hard to tell you something, but I don’t know how.”

  “All you have to do is say the words.” Though he was trying his best to be as calm as she needed him to be—inside, his nerves were awhirl. Did she not love him anymore?

  “I love you.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad.”

  “But I don’t know if I can marry you.” She held up a hand before he could speak a word. “This sounds so trite, but it’s not you. It’s me.”

  He didn’t understand what trite meant. He also didn’t understand what she was talking about. “What does that mean?” He tried to reach for her hand, but she moved it from his reach. “Lilly? If we marry, there won’t be just you and me. It will be the two of us. Together.” Her gaze softened just as the brown eyes he adored so much filled with tears.

  “You are so sweet.”

  “Don’t make falling in love difficult,” said Robert.

  “We’ll get through everything.”

  “It’s not falling in love that I’m worried about. It’s being Amish.”

  “Ah.” He felt like a fool for not addressing her concerns immediately. “I’ve already got that worked out, Lilly. I think you should move in with the Grabers. They live right next door to you, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I promise, they’ll be patient with you. And I would never expect you to learn our ways immediately. And I’ll help you with the language, too. And I bet my sister-in-law Mary could help, too. She’s a wonderful-gut teacher.”

  “But I don’t think I can—”

  “And I’d never expect you to do everything yourself. I’ll help you with the housework and things.” He smiled.

  “After all, I’ve been doing things here for years now. I just want you to be in my life, Lilly. All I know is that I can’t lose you.”

  Two tears slipped from her cheeks as more filled her eyes. “Robert, everything you have said is great. And I thought I could do all that. But when I was talking with Elsa and Frank, I realized I just can’t. I’m not going to be able to become Amish.”

  Confused, he was doing his best to understand her train of thought. “Elsa and Frank talked you out of our plans?”

  Her eyes widened. “No. I mean, not in the way you’re thinking.” She shrugged. “It’s just, well…they know me well.”

  “Not that well…”

  “Well enough for them to encourage me to question my motives. To question my goals.”

  “And what are those?” She flinched, and he hated himself for making her wary, but he couldn’t help himself. Lilly was about to fall through his fingers. Was about to slip out of his life, and he couldn’t bear it. Not now.

  Not when he’d already lost so much.

  Not when he’d already fought so hard for her. “My goals to be true to myself,” Lilly said quietly. “Robert, I know you don’t like me to talk about Alec and my pregnancy, but I have to tell you that it was an extremely difficult time. Not just the pregnancy and miscarriage…but my relationship with my parents and brothers and even my friends. In a lot of ways, I lost everyone.”

  Had that been the problem? He was confused. “I never said I didn’t want you to talk of those things. Of course, I know all that was hard for you.”

  “I do
n’t think you do.”

  “I lost a wife, Lilly. I sat by her side until she took her last dying breath. I know what pain and loss is about.”

  “But you had the rest of the community by your side. I had none of that. I was alone. And because I was alone, I began to cherish some things about myself. Especially my independence.”

  He felt like they were talking in circles. “So you don’t want to marry?”

  “Robert, I don’t want to lose my car. Or my phone.” She rolled her eyes, as if she was utterly frustrated with her weaknesses. “Or my computer.”

  None of that meant anything to him. “But those are just things.”

  “To you, maybe so. To me, they allow me to accomplish things without relying on others.”

  “But God is the only one we should rely on.”

  “If that’s true, then I think He’s already given me permission to have those things.” Looking sadder than ever, she murmured, “Robert, even the thought of going without my car—of having to ask someone to take me places, of not being able to call up a friend or not being able to have email or information right away—it frightens me.”

  “You could get used to it,” he said firmly. He would help her, too. She just had to believe in them enough—

  “But I’m not ready to do that. Robert, I love you, and I love the Lord, but I can’t become Amish. I can’t give up everything that I am. Not even for you.”

  Finally, he saw her. Not through the haze of dreams he’d been holding close. He finally saw her. Lilly Allen. And the truth became terribly clear. No, she couldn’t give up everything she felt comfortable with for him.

  He could see that now.

  Part of what made her so vibrant was her zest for life. Her spark of independence. Her ability to do something without asking a half dozen people what they thought about it first. It was that fire inside of her that had led her to say yes to their outing to the farmer’s market. It was that burst of self-reliance that allowed her to talk with everyone and anyone.

  And it was her maturity that had spurred her to kiss him in the cornfield.

  No, she wasn’t a moldable girl, ready to rely on him to help her through things. She was strong. And she wanted what she wanted.

  And she didn’t want him. At least not enough. Slowly getting to his feet, he adjusted the brim of his straw hat so it would shield his eyes.

  She was too bright for him now. It hurt to look at her. “Goodbye, Lilly Allen.”

  “But, wait! Robert!” She scrambled to her feet. “I want to talk to you about this.”

  “I think we have talked, jah?” A feeling of despair washed over him as he realized none of his plans were going to come to pass. He’d completely misjudged her.

  And, perhaps, he’d completely misjudged himself. “Not enough. Not about what to do.”

  He stepped closer to the door. Closer to the confines of his house, where there was safety and everything was the same as it ever was. “Lilly, there’s nothing more to do or say. You’ve made a good point. I see now that it would be foolish for you to adopt our ways.”

  Though he tried not to, he adjusted his hat brim so that he could again see her face. She was crying unabashedly now. Tears fell from her cheeks and splashed to her sweater. Her shoulders shook.

  And because she needed him to do one more thing, he did. Because he would do almost anything for her. “Goodbye, Lilly,” he said again. And then, before he could stop himself, he turned and walked into his house.

  Away from the vibrant fall colors. Away from the sun. Away from Lilly’s light and cheer.

  Behind him, the door shut.

  He almost welcomed the darkness that surrounded him.

  Chapter 26

  His parents hadn’t been afraid to describe every feeling they’d been grappling with during the last twelve hours. They hadn’t been afraid to yell, or to bring him to tears.

  Or, he thought glumly, to assign his punishment.

  Caleb scooped up another shovel of soiled hay from the horse’s stalls and added it to the overflowing wheelbarrow. For the next week, he had to do all of his siblings’ chores, in addition to his own.

  That meant he had to do Anson’s stall cleaning, Carrie’s jobs in the chicken coop, and to help wash dishes—Judith’s usual area.

  He had to dust for Maggie and even pick up things around the family room—little Toby’s job.

  The only reprieve he’d gotten was the laundry. He was exempt from that chore—but only because his mother was afraid he’d mess it all up.

  Caleb scooped up more hay and tossed it in the wheelbarrow, then turned toward the compost area. As he walked, a rank smell floated upward…reminding Caleb of just how much he hated mucking out horse stalls.

  Behind him, Jim nickered from his stall. It sounded high pitched enough that Caleb imagined the horse was snickering at him. He supposed he couldn’t blame the horse. Spending an hour every morning ankle deep in soiled straw was no way to begin a day.

  “Enjoy yourself all you want, Jim,” he muttered. “I’ll be laughing at you this winter when you’re leading the buggy in the snow.”

  “Talking to the animals, Caleb?” his father said when Caleb slowly pushed the wheelbarrow out of the barn.

  Caleb felt a blush come on but hoped his father didn’t notice. Here he was, trying so hard to say he was old…and still couldn’t help but talk to animals. “Only to Jim.”

  Instead of looking irritated, his father surprised him by smiling. “That horse. He’s a gut listener, ain’t so? If he could talk, he’d have hours of secrets to share, I think. I know; I’ve told him lots.”

  “I never knew you did such a thing.”

  “Sometimes I can’t help it,” he said as he fell into step beside Caleb. As they continued walking along the well-worn path out to the compost pile, his father murmured, “It’s a hard and lonely life, working all day in the fields with only a horse for company. But you know that, of course.”

  Lifting up the handles a bit, Caleb guided the barrow up another hill, then over the last ten yards to the compost area.

  He didn’t know what to say to his father. Never before had he imagined that his dad didn’t always enjoy his work on the farm.

  But perhaps his comment had much to do with their current activity. Usually, by this time of day, his father was at the store or busily working on some project that was needed to be done around the farm. Never did he take time off to walk along with Caleb.

  Frank Graber was the most industrious man he’d ever met.

  With some surprise, Caleb realized that his father was also a terribly good man. An honest one. A man who was devout and caring.

  Could he ever measure up to standards like that? Joshua had, but Caleb knew he was made of different stuff. Was it even worth it to try?

  After Caleb dumped the soiled hay and turned around, his father spoke again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Caleb.”

  “I bet you have,” he said drily. “I bet you wish I’d just go away.”

  “No, I do not,” he said forcibly. When Caleb stared at him in surprise, his father visibly gained control of himself. “I mean, I haven’t ever wished you would leave, son. Not ever.”

  “Daed, I know you’re upset with me. I know I’ve been nothing but trouble lately, what with my family meeting about wanting to leave and my phone call from the police station.”

  “Those have kept me up at night, I’ll not lie about that. But we all make mistakes, Caleb.”

  “Not like me.” He looked down at his boots, unable to look his father in the eye. Already, he could feel the bands of disapproval wafting from him. Seeing that in his eyes would only be harder to bear.

  “I’m afraid that you are mistaken, Caleb.”

  Almost against his will, his head popped up.

  “What?”

  “We all make mistakes. The Lord gives us options, but each of us must make our own way. And that is a difficult thing, I think. It is a hard path, trying to figu
re out what to do.”

  Caleb gazed into the fields. “For the last year, I thought what I wanted most was to go live among the English. All I did at night was worry how you and the rest of the family would take the news.”

  “I thought we did all right.”

  His father’s hopeful tone teased a smile from him. “I think so, too.”

  “But now you aren’t so sure you want to go?” Miserably, he shook his head. “It’s confusing me, too, Daed. See, I thought I was ready to grow up. But this episode with Blake and Jeremy scared me.”

  “I spoke with Scott Allen about those boys. He told me that even Englischer kids give them a wide berth. They seem to be magnets for trouble for everyone.”

  But instead of making him feel better, Caleb only felt worse. “Then how come I didn’t know any better? How come I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out?” In frustration, Caleb released the wheelbarrow. The sudden movement brought it to the hard ground with a bang, then the jarring set it on its side.

  Stunned, Caleb watched one of the back wheels spin as his father only stood silent.

  Without warning, tears pricked his eyes. “I’m sorry, Daed.”

  “It’s merely knocked over, son. The barrow is fine.” Before Caleb could stop him, his father picked up the wheelbarrow and set it to rights. “See now? It’s as good as new.”

  “Danke.”

  “You are welcome, son. It’s a father’s duty sometimes to pick things up and set them to rights, anyway.”

  Caleb understood the analogy. “I’ll try to be better.”

  “Perhaps you should just try to be yourself, jah? I don’t need a perfect son.”

  Without warning, he felt the sting of his father’s words. Never was he going to live up to his expectations. “You don’t need me to be perfect because you have Joshua.”

  “Stop that, now,” his father retorted sharply. “We both know he is not that…and he doesn’t need to be, either. All he needs to be is who our God wants him to be. And that, I think, is good enough.”