The Proving

by Beverly Lewis

  Dawdi looked at her and sighed, then bowed his head for the silent prayer.

  “Your mother loved ya so,” Mammi said as she began to serve coffee and pie. “You were at the tip-top of her prayer list, for sure and for certain.”

  Mandy recalled the similar remark Janice Hart had made. “I prayed for her, too. And for you and Dawdi.”

  Dawdi spooned some sugar into his coffee and then took a bite of the pie, smacking his lips as the menfolk did to show their satisfaction as they ate. “Wish ya could’ve been here when she died, ’stead of clear out west,” he remarked. “It was so sudden . . . you leavin’ like that.” He shook his head.

  “I wish I’d been here, too,” Mandy replied softly, meaning it with all of her heart.

  Dawdi gave a little grunt and nodded, seemingly mollified.

  “Let’s just eat and leave Amanda be, dear.” Mammi smiled kindly at her from across the table.

  So they ate silently, and despite the somewhat rocky start to her visit, Mandy was glad to be seated at the table with her father’s parents again. It had been much too long.

  It was after his second cup of coffee that Dawdi Dienner asked how her mother’s bed-and-breakfast was coming along, his eyes trained on the last bite of his pie.

  “The inn is plenty busy, and it’s all I can do to keep up.” Mandy was embarrassed to admit it. “And I haven’t been able to hire any new help. It seems the People want nothin’ to do with me.”

  A sudden hush came over the kitchen, and Mandy dreaded what either of them might say. Likely they’re as upset as everyone else that I fired Arie Mae.

  At last, Dawdi set down his fork on his empty plate. “You left your widowed Mamma without explanation,” he said solemnly. “She had enough on her—she didn’t need to grieve your leavin’, too.”

  The depth of sorrow her mother must have experienced hit Mandy’s heart anew. “I wish I hadn’t handled things thataway,” she admitted, not saying what had caused her to rush away so awful quick. “At the time, I felt I had no other choice.”

  “Ach, there’s always a choice,” Dawdi said, folding his hands for the after-eating prayer, “if we look for it.”

  Chastened, Mandy folded her hands and bowed her head.

  Chapter

  22

  On the way back toward Gordonville, Mandy stopped at the Amish cemetery where her parents were buried. Up till now, she hadn’t felt ready to see their gravesites side by side, but after the visit with Dat’s parents, she knew it was time.

  Getting out of the car, she picked her way over the encrusted snow to the fenced-in graveyard, where she opened the wide gate she and her family had filed through numerous times. There, she studied the neat rows of graves, some of the older markers more gray now than pure white when accented by the snow.

  She walked reverently past her mother’s parents’ graves—Dawdi Benjamin and Mammi Sarah Hostetler—and several great-uncles’ and aunts’, too, before coming upon her father’s small white grave marker, unadorned as was customary.

  Mandy stepped to the side, respecting the snowy ground where his coffin lay. For the longest time, she stood there, aware of a quiet so profound it was broken only by her own breaths. “Would Dat have intervened ’tween Arie and me?” she whispered into the frosty air.

  Warm tears ran down her cheeks, stinging her cold face. If he’d lived, would I be married to Josiah? she permitted herself to ponder, then realized that the answer to that no longer mattered.

  After a while, she folded her gloved hands and focused on the unmarked plot next to her father’s. It would be some time before the gravestone would be set in place. Mandy bowed her head, wishing again she had been present for the funeral and burial service. She uttered not a word as she silently thanked God for giving her such a hardworking and faithful mother.

  A breeze stirred the stark tree branches, and Mandy shivered as the cold seeped through her coat and scarf, the wind turning sharp since this morning. Her nose and face began to feel numb.

  At least Mamma was able to witness Arie’s wedding. . . .

  The thought still hurt.

  With a sigh, Mandy turned to walk back toward her car parked at the bottom of the hill.

  On the drive home, Mandy considered the fact that Dawdi and Mammi Dienner had invited her in to eat with them, and was heartened by it. She considered Jerome’s weekly visits, as well as those of her other brothers and sisters-in-law who had dropped by to say hullo, though none of them had lingered or brought their children. Jerome had been clear, though, about being able to see all of their extended family at church. Mandy wondered if she would find any real opportunities for fellowship with them if she never once went to Preaching service during this year of proving herself. As busy as she was, how would she find the time to visit them all?

  Back at Butterfly Meadows, Mandy parked her car and, out of habit, walked around the back way, preferring not to track snow and dirt into the entry. She would leave her shoes just inside the kitchen till they were dry enough to clean up. Thinking of the warm kitchen, she longed to rest like she had been doing each Sunday afternoon since returning home.

  Making the bend toward the sidewalk that led up to the back door, she spotted Karl just a few yards from the stable.

  She hastened her pace. “Hullo,” she called, her steps sinking into the snow.

  “Blessed Lord’s Day to ya, Mandy.”

  Instinctively, she wiped her cheeks with her scarf, wondering if it was obvious she’d been crying. “Might Yonnie be with ya today?” she asked.

  “He’s in with the horses,” Karl said, his smile widening as she came near. “And still talkin’ about your delicious hot cocoa.”

  “My Mamma’s recipe,” she said, looking toward the stable and wondering if Yonnie might hear them talking and come out. “A real sweet treat, my father liked to say.” It crossed her mind that Karl might be hinting at having a cup for himself, but she didn’t want to make a fool of herself by offering some if he was merely being polite.

  “Say, I can get a sleigh and bring it over later, if ya think your guests would enjoy that instead of a buggy ride today.”

  “Oh, that’d be perfect,” she said, quickly adding, “but only if it’s not too much bother.”

  “None at all.”

  “I’ll tell the guests to dress warmly.”

  “Gut idea,” he said, practically grinning. “And if you’d like to come along, Yonnie might wanna go, too.”

  This perked her up. “Well, how can I say no to that!”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything in front of him, but when I suggested the idea earlier, he begged to go ridin’ in Josiah’s sleigh.”

  Josiah’s? Mandy tried not to let on how surprised she was.

  “Hope it’s all right. It was Arie Mae’s idea,” Karl explained. “She thought it would be extra special for the inn guests.”

  Arie’s idea? Mandy was truly dumbfounded now. “I’d forgotten ’bout that sleigh.”

  “Well, if I understand correctly, it’s been in the family for several generations.”

  Mandy knew more about it than she cared to let on. She briefly recalled one long-ago December day, close to Christmas, when Josiah had hitched up the horse and sleigh to take her skating on the frozen fishing hole. “Well, I’d better go inside before I turn into an ice cube.”

  He nodded. “Jah, go in an’ warm up. Ya don’t want to start off cold.”

  Turning, she went to the house and let herself in, then sat down in one of the kitchen chairs to catch her breath. Arie wants to treat the inn guests to a sleigh ride? Why would she even bother suggesting such a thing?

  Trina still found it hard to believe she had accepted a lunch date Friday. It had gone incredibly well, so much so that she had reluctantly agreed to attend church with Gavin O’Connor. We actually have a lot in common, she realized. And because Gavin had proposed they drive up to Reading for lunch at Anthony’s Trattoria, here she was spending even more time with him. />
  I must be out of my mind, she thought as they drove back from a leisurely meal at the charming restaurant, wondering, as well, why Gavin seemed drawn to her.

  He’s lonely; that’s all, she decided. Maybe it isn’t as much fun to sit around writing as he claims.

  But Trina had to admit that she was very glad to escape the touristy restaurants in Lancaster County, especially the Amish buffets and smorgasbords, particularly after her experience at Miller’s, where she had unwisely dished up a spoonful of practically everything offered.

  “I’m going on a starvation diet when I get home,” she declared now.

  “Sounds like the lyrics to a lousy country song,” he replied, laughing.

  She couldn’t help chuckling along with him. “Is writing all you ever think about?”

  “Well, that and my work.”

  She asked about his job, and he described his booming consulting firm in Maryland, which provided human resources for start-up businesses.

  “Oh, so you own the place?”

  “That’s right. And I have some terrific employees who make it possible for me to get away every now and then.”

  “Which makes it possible for you to get lost in Amish farmland.” She looked at him. “I’m still not sure what you see in Butterfly Meadows. Why there?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I think I must have Plain in my blood.” At her look of surprise, he grinned. “Not seriously, of course. But it’s a great place to decompress. No meetings, no emails piling up or phones constantly ringing. What’s not to like?”

  Trina tried to imagine staying at the Amish inn for the duration of her vacation. Would the place grow on her eventually? She doubted it, and if she hadn’t already paid for her activities and accommodations—deeply discounted by Mandy Dienner as they were—she would be flying home to Minnesota immediately.

  Back to civilization, she thought.

  As it turned out, Mandy slept right through the time when her guests left for the sleigh ride with Karl. Disappointed, she spotted Trina’s note in the kitchen, saying Yonnie had come looking for her earlier.

  Trina left me a note? she thought. Who’s running this place?

  “I guess I was tuckered out,” Mandy murmured, deciding she would try to make it up to the boy somehow.

  Then an idea came to her, and she hurried to make her Mamma’s hot cocoa recipe for everyone, including Yonnie and his father, once they were all back from the sleigh ride. She got the fire going strong in the breakfast room and made sure the table would accommodate all who wanted to sit and visit over cookies and hot chocolate.

  She enjoyed preparing for the gathering, recalling Karl’s generous manner and his son’s endearing smile. And, odd as it seemed, Mandy no longer regretted missing out on the sleigh ride. In fact, she had a feeling the afternoon was supposed to end up just this way.

  Chapter

  23

  Mandy kept watch for the sleigh filled with guests, and quickly pulled on a coat and her mother’s black candlesnuffer bonnet when Karl Lantz stopped the horses. She hurried out to invite everyone inside for hot cocoa, including little Yonnie and Karl.

  Yonnie had ridden up front with his father, and she apologized to the boy for missing the ride. “I’ll go with ya another time,” she told him, and he seemed to take his disappointment in stride, his blue eyes brightening at her invitation for hot cocoa and cookies.

  The gathering for afternoon refreshments seemed to go better than those for the daily breakfasts. Several guests commented to Mandy about their delight at the unexpected treat. Even Trina was cordial to those around her—especially to Gavin. The two sounded as if they had been spending a fair amount of time together.

  Mandy gave Yonnie special attention, offering him another cookie when he seemed too bashful to ask for the cookie plate to be passed his way. Meanwhile, Karl was visiting with Harold and Elaine Garfield from Connecticut, an older couple who’d known Mamma for a number of years.

  When the overall conversation grew quieter, Harold told of Mandy’s mother once giving them a week’s free lodging “for a sanity break.” He stopped to look thoughtfully at his petite wife. “Saloma had learned from another regular guest that my father had died of cancer, and because Elaine and I had been his sole caregivers, Saloma wanted to provide a respite for us.”

  Elaine nodded her head and smiled at her husband. “She made it possible for us to rest in this tranquil setting just as the butterflies returned in the spring. What a blessing that was!”

  “Saloma was an angel of mercy in more ways than I can say,” Karl agreed, looking now at Mandy.

  Hearing the Garfields and Karl speak so fondly of her mother touched Mandy deeply. She supposed her mother had been particularly understanding of Karl’s loss of his bride and thus taken him under her wing. Had she helped give him his start in Gordonville by hiring him at the B and B, perhaps? That would explain his hard work in the stable and elsewhere around the inn—all things that would have made life easier for Mamma. At least this was what crossed Mandy’s mind as she sat there, enjoying the company of her guests.

  When Mandy offered seconds on the cocoa, the response was so enthusiastic—a first!—she rushed out to the kitchen to make another batch. At long last, they’re truly enjoying something I make, she thought.

  Of course, she couldn’t just serve hot cocoa for breakfast, but she knew that if she could pull off such a well-received afternoon get-together, maybe she could improve her breakfasts, as well.

  Oh, if only that were so! she thought, stirring the milk over a low heat, lest it scald.

  Monday heralded the start of Mandy’s weekly routine, and she tried to encourage herself by remembering the guests’ positive comments about what the inn had meant for them over the years. She knew that she was unlikely to ever match Mamma’s abilities as a hostess, but it was heartening to realize that all the work she was doing to keep the inn humming might not go unnoticed—at least not by all the guests.

  As for Trina, she had ceased threatening to leave and instead chose to stay on. Over the next few days, Mandy noticed that she and Gavin made a habit of talking together in the sitting room. Apparently, they were getting along quite well now. Trina even seemed more pleasant around the man.

  Trina had just returned from a tour of the famous Ephrata Cloister that Thursday when Mandy asked if she’d like to have a grilled cheese sandwich for supper with her. “You must be tired from the long day, jah?”

  Trina said that it would be nice to stay in on such a cold and windy night. “But let me make some soup to go with it, okay?”

  “Well, you don’t have to,” Mandy said, wondering why she couldn’t simply accept the invitation.

  “I want to,” Trina said, but it sounded like she meant to say she needed to—at least, that’s how it came across to Mandy. “Why don’t you just show me what you have on hand, and I’ll figure out something from there?”

  The house was all theirs, since the rest of the guests had gone out for supper, Gavin included. Mandy wondered why he hadn’t taken Trina along, as he had at least twice now that she knew of.

  After a quick investigation of the refrigerator and pantry, Trina decided on a cauliflower soup and made quick work of chopping the vegetables, which were soon on the stove simmering in some canned chicken broth.

  “How was your tour today?” Mandy asked, bracing herself for a critical reply about the once flourishing church community of eighty celibate members.

  “Really fascinating,” Trina said as she finished whisking some half-and-half into the white sauce for the soup. “Did you know they composed a cappella music and practiced Germanic calligraphy? They were remarkably talented.” She briefly described the primitive publishing center, which consisted in part of a paper mill, a printing office, and a bookbindery.

  “I’ve heard ’bout it but have never gone there,” Mandy said, buttering both sides of the bread for the sandwiches. “A very popular place with tourists.”

  “It’s
a national historic landmark, and I brought back a handful of brochures if you want some for guests.”

  “Denki.” At this kind gesture, Mandy glanced at Trina, who carefully stirred the white sauce into the tender vegetables, then seasoned the soup.

  “Oh, does that ever smell delicious,” Mandy said. Trina clearly had a knack in the kitchen. “It’s too bad you’re aren’t Amish, or you’d be the perfect cook for this place!”

  “What a nice thing to say.” Trina smiled. “Just wait till you taste it!”

  Then, just as Mandy had begun to warm to the young woman a bit, Trina said, “You’re not really Amish, are you?”

  Mandy’s mouth dropped open. “What makes ya say that?”

  “Let’s see . . . you drive a car. You don’t wear the white head covering like other Amishwomen.” She paused, her hand still holding the wooden spoon. “And to be honest, your cooking leaves something to be desired.”

  Peeved, Mandy said, “Listen, I was born and raised Amish, just like the rest of my family.”

  “Right, but something must have happened, because despite your dresses and buns, you don’t seem like you belong here.”

  Mandy felt cornered.

  “And Gavin remembers you were once a full-fledged Amishwoman, back when he first started coming to this place. Then one year, you just weren’t here anymore.”

  “Why does this concern you, Trina?”

  “It just seems to me that you’re killing yourself trying to keep the place running when you don’t really want to be here.” Trina tilted her head and frowned. “Why is that, Mandy?”

  At that, Mandy lost her will to remain cordial. “Why not live your life, Trina? And I’ll live mine.”

  “You know what—maybe I should just take my supper to my room and get out of your hair,” Trina announced.

  Mandy bit her lip, knowing nothing would be accomplished by arguing with her. Oh, how she wished Gavin had taken Trina with him!

  “No need for that,” she said more gently now.

  Once the soup was ready, Mandy removed the skillet from the gas burner and placed the grilled cheese sandwiches on a platter, then carried it to the table.