A Different Kind of Heaven

by Tammy Shuttlesworth

  “It is the least I can do,” he said calmly, making Callie wonder if Joshua had said much the same thing while she had been gathering wool.

  “Do you have to help?” Joshua asked as Brother David moved toward the bereaved parents.

  Did he want her to stay with him? She was tempted, but her reply was curt. “Usually I hand out coffee and cakes.”

  Adults congregated in solemn circles and children played in the open area to one side of the meeting house. Tables of baked goods and other food offerings sat along a wall. The sun had come out, burning away the mist that had fallen intermittently throughout the burial service. Its brightness lent a delicate touch to the dismal emotions reflected on the settlers’ faces.

  Joshua left her to pour coffee, and she watched as he ambled about among the crowd. His height made him an easy target to follow, and she found she could not keep her eyes from straying to him as he stopped and spoke with various groups.

  Abe and Suzannah stayed near the worship building, appearing grateful for the attention that helped take their minds off their loss. Callie eyed them discreetly. Every so often, the one holding Hannah Grace would hand the baby to the other, and when their eyes met over the well-bundled infant, there passed an unseen bond.

  She had yet to speak with Suzannah. Several times she thought to do so, but each time she held back, frightened of being unable to find words that would convey her despair and her helplessness without further upsetting her friend.

  The hollowness inside her was a constant reminder of how she had failed Suzannah—not once, but twice. She could not imagine how Suzannah could ever trust her again.

  Suzannah seemed to echo her sentiments, for she rarely glanced in Callie’s direction. Finally, the line for coffee tapered off and with nothing else to do, Callie grabbed a piece of jerked turkey and a mug of coffee for herself before joining her sister.

  Sarah gestured toward the piece of dry meat in Callie’s hand. “I see you are still not eating much.”

  There was an aloofness about her sister that Callie had not noticed before. Perhaps this was harder on Sarah than she wanted others to know. If that was the case, she would let Sarah work out her emotions on her own.

  “I am not hungry right now,” she explained. “What do you and MaryBeth have planned for today?”

  Sarah appeared to have difficulty swallowing the bite of venison she had just put in her mouth. “Nothing. We are arguing.”

  Callie sighed. So much happened in her sister’s life that Callie did not find out about until afterward. She patted Sarah’s arm. “I am sure it will pass. You have had your differences before.”

  She thought briefly about telling Sarah then about Levi and what he had done the other day, but decided against it. Some-thing of that import was better left for when they were in private.

  “It is not me,” Sarah returned, dropping her eyes to her food. “We just do not see things the same way anymore.”

  “You will work it out.”

  “I am not so sure we will this time,” Sarah argued.

  Before Callie could ask for an explanation, a loud wail clamored over the muted voices around her. She dropped her food and raced toward the sound, intent on helping in whatever way she could.

  Joshua arrived before she could, and she stood back, watching him brush away a young girl’s tears who had apparently tripped over a tree root. Joshua ran his forefinger over the scratched skin on the top of her foot.

  “You will be fine,” he assured the little one.

  The child wiped at the side of her face, looked down at her foot as if to see how he had fixed the damage, then beamed a toothless smile up at him. Joshua smiled in return, and the girl pulled her moccasin back on and scampered off toward the children she had been racing with.

  He is so good with little ones, Callie thought once the crisis was over and she had moved back to sit beside Sarah. Sarah looked unsettled about something. Callie assumed it was the rift with MaryBeth and said nothing.

  The rest of the day passed quickly. Finally, the children collapsed in exhaustion on old deerskins that had been laid on the ground. Adults alternated between eating and talking and watching over the children.

  On the spur of the moment, Brother David decided to hold the evening service outside, offering prayers not only for the Solomons, but for the entire settlement. Tomorrow’s work was parceled out, good-byes were hugged all around, and the last “Amen” was said as the sun slipped behind the trees at day’s end.

  ❧

  Callie put aside the mending she had been working on as Sarah joined her in front of the fireplace, where the snaps and pops of the fire offered a measure of cheer. The rain from the other day had gone, but a chill remained even though it was late May.

  “We must talk about your behavior after the funeral the other day, Sarah.”

  She had truly meant to have this conversation earlier. One illness after another had prevented her from finding the time to do so. The one good thing that had happened in the last two days had been little Storm Killbuck regaining his health. She knew she should congratulate Joshua for that accomplishment, but she hadn’t had the time to approach him, either. The two of them had been kept extremely busy.

  Sarah was rarely at home lately, slipping in at the last moment to go to sleep. What her sister did around the mission, Callie didn’t know. She hoped she had made up with MaryBeth, though. The girls needed each other’s companionship, as all humans needed someone in whom they could confide. She had had Suzannah once. It seemed a very long time ago.

  “What was wrong with my behavior?” Sarah asked as she tucked her legs beneath her and tugged at her skirt to pull it around her knees like a blanket.

  “You were, well. . .it’s the way you were carrying on with Levi.”

  “And what was wrong with that? He was hurting and I was trying to help.” Sarah unpinned the braid wrapped around on the back of her head and flipped her strawberry curls until they tumbled down her back.

  “You were doing a little more than that!” Callie pointed out.

  “You taught me to be considerate of others,” Sarah exclaimed. “Are you now telling me I did something wrong even though I saw you doing the same thing with Joshua?”

  Callie cleared her throat. “I am not questioning your motives. You are not yet of the age to make weighty decisions such as—”

  “Here we go again,” Sarah groaned, rolling her eyes.

  Callie held up a hand. “Do not get defensive. It is my place to bring you up correctly.”

  Sarah stared at the fire.

  “I am trying to do the best I can,” Callie added.

  The chill in the room was not only because the fire had not been burning long. Callie knew Sarah disapproved of her speaking this way. She had shown it before, both in words and actions.

  A heavy sigh escaped Callie’s lips.

  “Look, let us not argue,” Callie backtracked. “It is the one thing I could not take just now. But in the future, promise me you will behave with more restraint. You know we women are to be seen, not heard.”

  Sarah turned her head to glare at her, her lips disappearing in a grim line. “Just because you do not know how to have fun, you do not like it when anyone else does, either, do you?”

  Callie stiffened at her sister’s accusation. She had heard that statement before. “Fun has nothing to do with this. You have got it wrong.”

  “I am not you, Callie. And I am growing up regardless of how long you try to think of me as your little sister.” Sarah tossed her head. “I have done everything you have asked. I came with the Moravians to this godforsaken place. I traveled for weeks, sleeping on cold, hard earth, eating nothing but pemmican and stale bread. Do you know how sick the thought of that stuff makes me?” Sarah grabbed at her throat and acted as if she were choking.

  It was not the first time Callie had listened to Sarah rage at the heavens for casting her into this lonely bit of wilderness. She could see an immense struggle takin
g place in her sister’s eyes. She waited, patiently allowing Sarah to work out whatever was tumbling through her mind.

  When she spoke, Sarah’s words rushed out in an uneven stream. “I even accepted Jesus to keep you from pestering me.”

  Callie couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Pain thudded in her ears. Even as Callie leapt from her seat she was telling herself to stem her reaction. But the anger burning her cheeks and the wave of sickness cresting in her stomach would not fade. And the look in Sarah’s eyes said she was serious.

  Beneath the enormous burden Sarah had just laid on her, Callie struggled to breathe. Sarah’s words thundered in her mind like a horrible storm, shattering her hopes that her sister would grow stronger in Christ.

  She grasped the back of the chair. She would not, could not, allow Sarah, who was not yet seventeen, to fall from grace.

  “Would you care to explain that for me?” She hated the venomous tone of her voice, but shock prevented her from concentrating on how she spoke.

  Sarah shrugged. “It is simple. If God were truly good, He would not do to us what the one you believe in has done.”

  Sarah’s pitiful voice reminded Callie of all the times on the journey to Schoenbrunn that her sister had complained about her lot in life. Callie had passed it off as childish whining, sure it was prompted by the newness of the journey and by the fact that they had just lost the only home they had known.

  Hands clenched at her sides, she closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to deal with Sarah’s revelation. But while she could shut her eyes and lock out the sight of Sarah sitting in the chair, the phrase Sarah does not believe, echoed in her mind.

  You are the only person she has to show her the truth, a voice whispered from deep within.

  Yes, but how? she argued back.

  By showing her love and compassion, by being understanding.

  Callie swung away to regain her composure, bidding her tears to subside and her racing heart to slow. What could she say to erase the pain of what Sarah had just confessed? Her fingers dug into the wooden rung of the chair back, and she clung to its surface, holding tightly as if it were the very length of wood that had held her Savior as He breathed His last. When she turned around, ready to speak, Sarah was no longer in the cabin.

  ❧

  Joshua faced the men who had come to the meeting. Weariness pulled their features tight across their high cheekbones, and for those who had been searching all night, their bloodshot eyes testified to their lack of sleep. Joshua himself had not slept in the last three days, but some inner force compelled him to stay awake, as if by doing so he would find the answer to Levi and Sarah’s disappearance.

  He drew a deep breath and composed his thoughts, which was not easy to do. The images that filled his mind were of Callie and the devastation she must be experiencing because of her sister’s actions. A devastation he could only imagine, since she had shut everyone out since that night.

  A brief twinge of guilt that he had taken Sarah’s side during the incident at the funeral struck him. He shoved it away. Like so many other things, what had happened was history, and he could not change it. What he could change, or at least attempt to, was the way the future looked for his beloved, even if she wanted no part of human contact right now. So, putting aside his own frustration, he straightened his back and motioned around the room.

  “This morning some of you brought word of hoofprints along the riverbank north of here,” he began. “I know you are thinking we do not know what lies that way, other than more wilderness and French or British soldiers, but it is not our safety at issue here.”

  He looked around the room, expecting some reaction from the dark-skinned faces. There was none. The glow of the candles hung intermittently along the wall softened the sharp edges of stress on the men looking back at him, but it did not take away the concern on their faces. It was the same concern he was experiencing, but one he tried doubly hard to ignore. If he let himself get muddled up in why he felt it was so important to find Sarah and Levi, he might regret ever coming to Schoenbrunn in the first place.

  That, he vowed silently, was something he would never do. Even if nothing came of what he and Callie had once shared, he would relish the fact that he had at least been able to see her again. He turned his mind back to the task at hand.

  “We have combed the hillsides, and I think it safe to say that Sarah and Levi, for some unknown reason, have headed north. We have no choice but to follow them.”

  He stopped, knowing he did not have to remind them that the couple had taken one horse between them, and no one knew what provisions.

  “I am going,” Joshua announced, his voice echoing off the rafters of the meeting house. “If you are willing to go along, I would appreciate your company.”

  A barely man-sized voice responded from the back of the room, “I will go.”

  Joshua turned in the direction of the speaker. Shadow, a young Delaware who had recently given his life to Christ, stood near the back, waving his hand over his head.

  “She cannot be allowed to do this to her sister. Or to the rest of her Christian family,” the young man added.

  Joshua first thought to decline the offer of help from one so young. At fifteen summers, Shadow would have more energy than common sense, but he also had the stamina of youth. He smiled at the boy who was trying to appear mature enough to make such a decision. He was eager, too; but no one except Brother David knew why.

  Once Shadow spoke, three others quickly followed suit. After very little discussion, it was decided they would each be outfitted with a horse, a musket, and sufficient dried food for a week’s journey. If they had not found the couple by then, they were to return.

  “Bring them home safely,” Brother David admonished when the men were done planning. “And remember, it is not our place to serve as judge.” The elder had sat quietly throughout the meeting, putting his implicit trust in Joshua’s ability to handle the details.

  “We will bring them home,” Shadow retorted. “Whether they want to come or not.” He folded his arms in front of him as if he dared anyone to dispute him.

  Joshua glanced at David, who gave him a slight nod that said, Be patient with him and teach him what you know. He thought of his father, whom he had not seen in over a year, of how he had insisted Joshua learn to ride and track, though he’d had no idea of how Joshua’s knowing those things would ever prove useful. Would he ever see his father again to thank him for those lessons? With thoughts of family crowding his mind, he was reminded of the necessity of finding Sarah for Callie.

  He dismissed the men to say farewell to their families and headed toward his own cabin to pack. Strolling up the path, his thoughts turned to what had happened the night before last.

  He had been treating a patient, so what he knew about the incident was secondhand, imparted hastily by Brother David before the first group had ridden out to the south, toward their sister mission downriver. By that time, the remaining Dela-wares had broken into small parties with various destinations in mind.

  The elder had been terse while telling him of the disappearances. “I believe they will head toward civilization.”

  Joshua had agreed with that thinking, but voiced the opinion that he thought Sarah and Levi would avoid any settlement where there would be Delawares present.

  “After all,” he had pointed out tactfully, “they have left this mission under the cover of darkness. Why would they seek the protection of a settlement where they believed people in it might report their whereabouts to us?”

  Other than to stroke his chin thoughtfully, Brother David had given no reply.

  The sun glinted on Joshua’s face, snapping him out of his reverie. He was surprised to find he was not on his way east toward his house. His footsteps had carried him to Callie’s door instead. He stared at it for a moment, trying to reconcile within himself why he had unconsciously come here.

  Except for Brother David and those who were ill, she had kep
t her contact brief with everyone in the mission since the night she discovered her sister missing. She was so intent on hiding away that she rose before dawn to make her morning “sick visits,” then returned home before anyone else was up and about.

  An indistinct pain clawed at his heart. He should not have promised to avoid telling her more about who he was, Joshua thought irritably. He knew what he had said to her after the burial had been risky, but he had been so sure that if he gave her a hint, she would remember.

  He had stopped short of revealing the whole truth only because it would more than likely have destroyed whatever she had begun to build for herself. He would not do that, no matter how much he was tempted to.

  How did Callie feel about Levi deserting with her younger sister? The question had plagued him since the moment he had heard about it. Unfortunately, it was one to which he was never likely to discover the answer.

  Before he could leave without at least seeing how she was, he rapped at her door. He had spent the last two nights wondering how much of their conversation after the infant’s burial Callie had truly heard. The whole time he had been telling her about loving a woman and being unable to wed her, he had hoped she would realize she was the woman he sought. When she had not reacted, he had been forced to admit she might never recall those days they had shared.

  Callie opened the door a scant inch, looking as if she had not slept in a week. He wanted to be the balm to her soul she so obviously needed, instead of the source of distress he felt he was for her every time he saw her.

  “Yes?” Her voice wavered.

  “I have come to check on you.” He pushed away words of comfort that were about to burst from his mouth.

  “I am fine.”

  Her response was not strong enough to convince him. Looking out as she was through the tiny space between the door and the frame, he could barely see one side of her face. Tiny drops edged her long lashes, causing a new wave of compassion to well up inside him.

  “You do not look it,” he answered.

  Why didn’t he just tell her how beautiful she had once been? How her eyes had sparkled when they found him across the huge room where the orphans ate their meals? How her lips curled up in a smile when she saw him scouting around the grounds for something to do?