That night Jenny took out the book—the story of Jenna’s quilt. She read through it slowly. Here was the quilt being made, now the story of the big storm and the car crash that killed the bad man. And here were Uncle Bobby and Papa fighting in the war. When she read the part about Jerusha holding her through the long, cold night and saving her, Jenny cried. She cried because she remembered the beating of her mother’s heart. That had been her earliest memory—her mother’s heart beating strong and sure, keeping her safe and warm in the midst of every storm. And now that heart was stilled.
When I was writing this, I was so sure Gott told me to do it.
Every word in the book had flowed so easily, and as Jerusha told her the story, she and Jenny grew so close. It seemed that only Gott could do such a wonderful thing. When the book was finished, it was as though she had painted a picture of her family’s life, a picture that had just been waiting for her to set it down on paper and fill in all the little details. The historian in her had filed away all of the bits and pieces, the stories and the memories, and the work had fulfilled her as nothing else in her life except her marriage to Jonathan.
But now none of it made sense. She had the book, but she didn’t have her parents. She had the memories, but she didn’t have her husband. A great wheel had turned in her life, and everything had changed. She was lost in a strange land where nothing was familiar anymore. There was nothing to hang on to, and nothing seemed real. Even this house seemed unfamiliar and in some ways frightening. Rachel’s questions about death had challenged her own fears, and now the home where love once lived stood like an abandoned castle, full of ghosts and empty hallways.
Without her mama’s love to guide her and encourage her, the writing now seemed empty and meaningless. The words on the page seemed to mock her. The joy that her mama and papa found, the restoration and healing—what did it all mean if they were gone? Jenny put her head down on her desk. She was tired…so tired.
Gott, why did You let me do all this if You were just going to let them die?
And then she heard the quiet voice, the one that was the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not yet seen.
I didn’t do it for them, Jenny. I did it for you. And I did it for those who need healing and restoration in their own lives. But that time is not yet. Give the book back to Me.
Jenny lifted her head and spoke out loud. “Give it back?”
Yes, Jenny. Put it on the altar as a sweet savor of incense to Me. I have the keys that will open the doors that cannot be shut. And I will open those doors in My time. Give Me the book.
And so Jenny put the book back into its envelope and tied it with a red string. She went to the cedar chest where Jerusha kept the quilt and put the book inside. When she closed the lid, it was as though time stood still for just that moment. And then that season was over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Decision
When you are with the ones who love you, anyplace can seem like home. But without the ones you love, even home can be a prison.
Jenny read the words again. She remembered writing them one morning when she was thinking about moving from Paradise back to Apple Creek. They had just floated into her mind, and she had pulled out her little pad and jotted them down. Now as she read them again, they seemed to be terribly prophetic. The Springer house in Apple Creek had become just that—a prison. Without the presence of her mama and papa, the rooms were quiet and still. This morning, after she sent Rachel out to play, she pulled out her journals and began to leaf through them. She came upon the scrap of paper, stuck between two pages. As she read it, the reality of what had happened began to push its way into her thoughts.
Home? Where is my home? The ones I love are gone, and I feel as though I have flown off into space, never to feel solid ground again.
She slipped the paper back between the pages and then sighed and got up from her desk. She walked down the hall into her parents’ room and sat on the bed, taking in each article in the room as though some essence of Jerusha and Reuben remained that she could touch or hear or smell.
This is the bed where they slept, my papa keeping watch over Mama even in his dreams. And here is the dresser my papa made for Mama. She sat here every morning and brushed her wonderful blonde hair and then pinned it up into a bun and hid it under her kappe. Papa loved her hair. When she took it down at night, I could see in his eyes how he loved her. My papa’s eyes…Jonathan’s eyes were like Papa’s, deep and blue and…
She stood up quickly and walked out of the bedroom. It was dangerous to dwell on the things that had happened. There were so many emotions locked inside her. The smallest thing would make them spring unbidden into her heart—a word or a picture or the way the sunset shone through the kitchen window on a summer evening—and with them would come the awful reality that reminded her of those she had lost.
They are not lost—I am lost. Everything has been stripped away, and I don’t know who I am anymore. All the landmarks are gone, and I’m wandering in the mist, dark trees reaching for me with twisted branches…
“I want to scream!” Jenny cried out.
A familiar voice interrupted the moment. “Jenny? Are you all right?”
“Jeremy?” But it couldn’t be.
She went out of the kitchen into the living room. The front door was open, and Jeremy King stood behind the screen with a worried expression on his face. Jenny looked at him in surprise.
“Jeremy! What are you doing here?”
“May I come in first?”
Jenny blushed at the thought that Jeremy had heard her ranting in the kitchen. She opened the screen. It was so good to see someone, anyone. Jeremy stepped inside.
“I heard you cry out. Are you all right?”
Jenny could feel her cheeks burning. She looked at him, and then to her surprise she was in his arms, weeping. He stood surprised for a moment, and then his arms closed around her, and he held her tightly. She looked up at his face and she could see the love in his eyes. She lifted her face and he bent down to kiss her.
Reality stepped in. Jenny turned her face into his chest.
“No, don’t, Jeremy. I’m sorry, that’s not what I intended. Ich werde so verwechselt…I’m so mixed up. It’s just so good to see a friendly face.”
Jeremy held her for a moment more and then turned her toward the couch, where they sat down together. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. Then Jeremy laughed.
“Almost you surrendered to me, Jenny Hershberger…almost. But I understand. I don’t want you to come to me just because you’re lonely. And you are lonely, aren’t you?”
“I have Rachel…and Bobby comes to see me.”
“But the silence is getting to you, isn’t it? I heard you cry out just as I came to the door. When my mother died, I felt the same way. To lose both your parents at once must be incredibly hard. I’m not sure I could bear it.”
“That’s why I was yelling in the kitchen, Jeremy. I think I’m starting to get a little verrückt. Sometimes the pain and the loss feel so much bigger than my body, I can’t hold them inside. I think I’m going to explode into tiny pieces and float away on the wind.”
Jeremy took her hand. “Look, Jenny, I know this is a hard time for you, and I know I shouldn’t try to press my case just now. But things have changed, and I need to talk to you before I go.”
“Go?”
“Yes, I’m moving the company back to Lancaster.”
“But what about—”
“The meidung I was under? It’s been lifted.”
“But how?”
“When Samuel Lapp was arrested here, it sent shock waves through the Lancaster district. And then when Sheriff Halverson charged Lapp with involuntary manslaughter after your papa died, his whole little empire came apart. The two men who testified against me recanted and asked for forgiveness. And then many people in the community who had been used or abused by Lapp started coming forward.
It seems he ran a very tight ship and had a lot of control over people.”
“What will happen to him?”
“After the sheriff deals with him here, he will be brought back to Lancaster. It seems the authorities want to speak to him about some illegal land deals. Samuel Lapp is in a lot of trouble.”
“The bann is lifted?”
“Yes. The elders of the church in Lancaster contacted me, and I made a trip home to see them. They asked me to forgive them for being taken in by Lapp and said they would restore me to the church.”
Jenny felt the old turmoil starting in her again. If he rejoins the church, I won’t have an excuse not to reconsider his proposal…
“What are you going to do?”
Jeremy let go of her hand and stood up. “I’m going back to Lancaster County, but I’m not going back to the church.”
“Not going back?”
“No, Jenny. I’m too involved in Kerusso. I’ve found my niche in life, and I’m going to stay in it. It’s a real ministry for me. I’m moving it back to Lancaster now that the stigma has gone off my life. That’s where the action is as far as finding Amish writers and people who are writing about the Amish. But go back to the church? No.”
Jenny didn’t want to ask the next question but she did anyway. “Then what about…what about…?
“What about us?”
Jeremy knelt down on the floor in front of Jenny. “That’s why I’ve come today, Jenny.” He took her hand again. “I want you to marry me and come to Lancaster. I love you with all my heart, and I have since the day we met at the library.”
“But if you’re not in the church, what will I do, Jeremy?”
“You’ll write books for Kerusso Publishing.”
She looked at him in amazement.
“Jenny Hershberger, you’re a good writer. You reach into places that most people don’t even know exist, and you bring back the wisdom and the revelations about life that you find there. Good writing makes people access their memories and emotions. You do that so well—it’s like it’s instinctive.”
“It’s a gift…”
As Jenny spoke the words, she remembered something Jerusha had shared when she was telling Jenny the story of Jenna’s quilt.
“When I was just learning to quilt, and it was becoming obvious that I had a natural talent for quilting, my grossmudder said to me, ‘You have been given a way to give back to the Lord, as He has given to you. It is a special gift not everyone is given. But to whom much is given, much is required. You must always give back to God from the gift He has given you. And there are dangers along the way. If you become a good quilter, it is quite possible for you to become arrogant and think that somehow you are more special than others.’
“Always remember that, Jenny, for peril can be hidden in the most beautiful places.”
“It’s a gift from God, Jeremy, and I must be very careful how I use it. And as for leaving the church…I don’t know, Jeremy.”
“Your parents are gone, Jonathan is gone…what is there to hold you?”
Jenny paused and then said, “When I was a girl, I had one burning desire—to know who my real parents were. I imagined them to be rich, and they were—or at least my father was. I imagined so many things about them and what I might have become if things had been different. And then one day my journey led me to the front porch of Abel Borntraeger, my grossdaadi. And that was the day I discovered who I really am. I am Amish. My mother was Amish, and her mother before her. My family went back into history, wrapped in the safety and solidity of the Amish way, and it will extend into the future, unchanging and certain.”
“But, Jenny, what has the church done for you that has any lasting reality?”
“It’s not the church, Jeremy, it’s the way in which we live and the closeness I feel to Gott because I am Amish. And it seemed that Gott was so determined that I be Amish that He gave me to the people who became my real father and mother, Reuben and Jerusha Springer. And so I am Amish. I can’t change that. It’s who I am in the deepest part of my being, my memories, and my history. To step away from that would be ein sehr hartes Ding—too hard, I think.”
“I’m your friend. I know that if everything were right, you could learn to love me. I would be a good husband to you and a good father to Rachel.”
“I know, but—”
“Let me finish. I’m asking one thing. I’m asking you to pray about my offer and ask God what He wants you to do. And as for leaving the church, you wouldn’t really leave. You would be right in the middle of everything Amish. I want you to tell the world about the Amish. I want the Englisch to see that in spite of the fact that we are Amish, we are just like other Christians—Episcopalians, Methodists…all of them. We struggle in our relationship with God, we have crises in our faith, and we get angry at the church and the people in it. I think that’s a realistic approach and one that would take the veil off and show people that everything isn’t perfect for us—that the Amish aren’t exempt from the arrows of the devil just because they’re Amish. And you could tell that story.”
Almost, I could go with him, Lord. Almost, I could love him. He is a gentle, true man. But…but he is not Jonathan.
Jenny smiled to herself.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
“I will do as you ask, Jeremy. I will pray about it. But I can’t promise what the Lord will say.”
And then the still, quiet voice.
The book is Mine and you are Mine. I have the key, and I open the doors that cannot be shut.
Jenny looked at Jeremy once more. She heard what the Lord was saying, but her heart ached to love and be loved. Not in heaven, but in this world—now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Another Homecoming
JENNY DID PRAY. AFTER JEREMY left she prayed, prayed some more, and wrestled with God. She made her case before Him about her loneliness, her desire for intimacy, her need to be in a family once more. She pleaded, she begged, she wept…but except for the one thing she had heard—which had not been an answer, but a statement—the heavens were like brass.
One day, two days, a week went by, and still she didn’t know. Her heart was torn by her feelings for Jeremy, her concern for Rachel growing up without a father, and her fear of finding herself alone at the end of her life—Rachel married and gone, her books unpublished, and her life withering away like the cursed fig tree.
One evening she was reading to Rachel. When they were finished, she set the book aside and asked Rachel the question.
“Rachel, what would you think if Mama got married again?”
“Who would you marry? Is Papa coming back from heaven?”
“No, Rachel. I would marry someone else.”
“Who, Mama?”
“Jeremy King has asked me to marry him.”
Rachel tilted her head to one side and considered that for a moment. “I like Jeremy King. He’s a nice man.”
“I like Jeremy too, Rachel.”
“Do you like him the way you liked Papa?”
“Not in the same way, Rachel. Your papa was a special man, and there will never be anyone like him for me again.”
“Then why would you marry Jeremy?”
Jenny hated it when Rachel went right to the heart of the matter.
“I didn’t say I didn’t love him, Rachel. What I said was I didn’t love him the way I loved Papa. Jeremy is a wonderful man. He would be a good husband and a wonderful father. And…oh, Rachel, your Mama is lonely to be with someone who really loves her.”
“That’s not a reason to marry someone, Mama. And besides, I really love you. Isn’t that enough?”
Jenny looked at her daughter. Wise beyond her years. “Has someone been telling you the answers, Rachel?”
“Gott has.”
The answer was so direct that Jenny could only stare at Rachel.
“Gott has been telling you?”
“Yes, Mama. I’ve been praying for you.”
“Why hasn’t He
told me?”
“Because you are trying to tell Him the answers instead of just listening.”
So Jenny went back to prayer, but this time she did not beg—she listened.
And then one night soon after that, Jenny woke up out of a sound sleep. She had been dreaming about the night her mama died. She was there in the ICU. The lights were dim, and the heart monitor was beeping softly. She stood with Bobby Halverson by her papa’s bedside and looked into Reuben’s wonderful, sea-blue eyes. The old smile was there behind them, the smile that had been a light to Jenny all her days. He looked over at Jerusha as though to assure himself that she was still with him. Then he pulled Jenny close.
“Jenny, my beloved girl, my precious girl.”
Jenny felt Reuben’s breathing begin to slow—one breath, another and then…nothing. She cried out, and the nurse hurried into the room. She came to the bedside and checked Reuben’s pulse. He was gone, but the steady beep continued unabated.
And then she looked and saw that Reuben’s hand was still clasped in Jerusha’s.
“It’s your mother’s heart, beating through him, Mrs. Hershberger. It’s like they have one heartbeat.”
Yes! Of course they do. Two lives, one heart. My mama and my papa.
Then from years ago, Jerusha’s words came to her.
“I will tell you that there may come a time in your life when you meet a man whom you will love so deeply that you will gladly surrender everything of yourself into his care and protection.”
Her mama had surrendered everything to her papa. They had loved each other completely. And when they died, it was as though one heart was beating in both their bodies.
“You showed me that, Lord!” Jenny cried out. “You showed me that Mama and Papa had a special kind of love. The kind that only comes once.”
Yes, dochter, a special love. And I gave that kind of love to you too.
“When you gave me Jonathan.”
Yes, Jenny, I gave you what you always needed, and what you will never need again.
“Because it was enough…because loving Jonathan was enough for me, because it was real love. Love born of You, Lord, and not from my own needs.”
Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) Page 17