The Promise of an Angel (A Heaven On Earth 1)

by Ruth Reid

  When she looked up at the man, his eyes flickered with a bright, wavering light. Her throat tightened, and she was unable to speak.

  Then the sound of the others approaching pulled her attention away. Her older brother, David, reached them first.

  “Samuel, wake up. Please.” Judith wrapped her arms around Samuel and clung to his limp, unresponsive body. “God, please,” she murmured.

  David’s strong hands lifted Judith and set her aside as others swarmed around Samuel.

  “No, please don’t—” Judith felt herself being pushed aside.

  “Don’t cause problems,” David warned.

  She drew in a hitched breath and wiped the tears from her eyes to clear her vision. From somewhere nearby, a voice resonated in a language she’d never heard. While everyone’s focus remained fixed on Samuel, she turned a complete circle in search of the source. The voice sounded like that of the stranger she’d found next to Samuel. How had he known her brother’s name? And where had he gone?

  Filled with an urgent need to find him, she followed the sound of the harmonious chant and spotted the man crossing the pasture, heading into the apple orchard without looking back.

  She moved cautiously at first, then with a surge of determination she lifted her skirt and broke into a full run. She lost sight of him, cloaked as he was in the undergrowth of the dense branches and an emerging thick haze that seemed to seep up from the ground. The fog turned solid at her feet, preventing her from following his tracks. He had disappeared.

  She shivered at the memory of his penetrating stare. As though she’d looked at the sky through an icicle, his frosty-blue eyes etched her senses. Oddly, her core warmed with an inner peace.

  A whoosh of wind, followed by a sound like sheets flapping on a clothesline, startled her. The murky vapor had cleared, and now shadows from the low-hanging branches filled the empty void. Somehow she knew it was pointless to follow, and she turned back.

  Once clear of the grove, she sprinted across the pasture, hoping that no one had noticed her absence. Her heart still pounding hard, she steadied her breathing before she edged back into the crowd.

  Her father was raising the rear wooden panel off the market wagon as the men lifted a board that held Samuel. They carried his limp body like pallbearers carrying a pine box.

  Judith raced to catch her mother before she climbed into the buggy. “Where are they taking him?”

  Mamm lowered a handkerchief from her face. “He needs a doctor. You’ll stay with your sisters.”

  Judith saw Rebecca clinging to Martha. Both stared blankly as they looked on in silence.

  Then she glanced at Samuel’s white complexion. Eyes closed, unresponsive. The vivid impression embedded itself into her mind.

  “Judith.”

  She looked up at her father.

  “Keep your eye on the girls.”

  His stony expression drove a nail through her heart. It was her failure to supervise Samuel that had caused the accident. Her eyes welled up at the thought of her brother dying on her watch. As the buggy pulled away, her vision blurred again with tears.

  Chapter Two

  Judith cupped her hands over her mouth, muting any outward emotional display. She understood the scriptures; God’s will for Samuel would prevail regardless of what bartering she offered on his behalf. Yet with her mind swirling with what-ifs, she had to offer. Take my life in exchange. I’m to blame.

  Aenti Lilly tugged Judith’s sleeve. “Kumm, we’ll redd-up.”

  She drew in a snagged breath and nodded. Perhaps if her hands had work, she’d ward off the temptation to question God’s ways.

  Judith followed the women back to the food-laden tables. Surely after the men had labored all day they would wish to eat. At the moment they were still hovering near the barn, no doubt discussing chore duties. In their tight community, all hands pulled together in times of crisis. She’d spent several days herself helping with household chores for the Trombleys when all five of the children came down with chicken pox. Judith smiled, recalling how little Emily had begged for stories to take her mind off the itching.

  Martha elbowed Judith’s ribs. “Samuel almost died and you’re smiling?”

  “My mind wandered briefly, is all.” Judith picked up a pan of beef casserole. The cheesy top layer was stiff. Much of the food would require reheating.

  Martha came along beside her, carrying a crock of baked beans. “We know what happens when your mind wanders, don’t we?”

  David’s wife, Ellen, stopped midway up the porch steps and spun around. “Leave the finger pointing be, Martha. What has happened cannot be undone.” Her gaze switched to Judith, and her eyes were warm with sympathy. “Once I make up some plates of food to take along, I’ll take Rebecca and Martha home with me for the night.”

  “Denki,” Judith replied. She certainly had no energy to hold her tongue while Martha barraged her with insults all evening.

  Martha let loose a wayward sigh and stormed into the house.

  “I’ll ask your brother to speak to her,” Ellen said.

  Despite her sister’s poor behavior, Judith didn’t wish David’s discipline to fall on her. He used to be mild-natured, and Judith had loved his sense of humor. But after he became a church deacon, he held his siblings to a sometimes unreachably high standard of obedience. Working with the bishop to keep the sheep from straying and the fold intact meant he kept a watchful eye over his immediate family.

  Judith stepped inside the crowded kitchen, where the women were quickly bringing order out of kitchen chaos. Dishes were passed hand to hand in an assembly-line style, making plates available to take home and reheat.

  Judith found a place to work next to Deborah.

  “So what did he say?” Deborah’s head bobbed at the window facing the barn’s direction. “Levi,” she mouthed. “Under the tree?”

  Judith wrapped up two plates of food and handed them to Deborah, then picked up two more. “Ellen, we’re taking these out to your buggy.” She motioned for her friend to follow.

  The screen door hadn’t snapped closed before Deborah asked, “Did he say anything about you turning nineteen meiya?”

  Judith shook her head. “I thought he might later, but—”

  Deborah’s eyes widened. “Ach, poor Samuel.”

  “Jah, I feel awful.”

  Deborah gently elbowed Judith’s arm. “You’re not to blame.”

  “He was under my watch.” The strain in her voice made it barely audible, but she forced herself to continue. “I was more interested in watching Levi.” Silence fell between them until they reached the buggy. “And guess who Levi was watching.” Judith opened the back hatch and set the plates on the floorboard.

  “Who?”

  Judith closed the buggy door. “Martha.”

  “Nay, are you sure?”

  “Jah.” Judith gazed off in the distance at the setting sun as tears welled. She’d waited patiently to court Levi, planned their wedding in her dreams, and now her sister had gained his attention.

  Deborah patted her arm. “Your faith is strong for Levi being the one. Besides, according to your parents’ rules, Martha isn’t old enough to court, is she?”

  “I hope she cannot change their minds.” She wiped her eyes. “I have no business to speak of Levi when my brother’s fate is unknown. Please don’t think poorly of me. My mind’s flushed with scattering thoughts. Did you see the Englischer?”

  “Vass? What Englischer?” Deborah’s brows arched.

  “He was kneeling beside Samuel.”

  “I couldn’t even see Samuel. Not with so many people crowding around.” She looped her arm with Judith’s as they strolled to the house. “There was an Englischer with him?”

  “Jah, strange, isn’t it?” Odder still that she didn’t hear anyone else talking about the man. As though he’d slipped through the entire crowd unnoticed.

  “Did you talk to him?”

  Judith was about to tell her friend what the
man had said, when the door opened. The chatter of children filled the air as they chased after one another over to the row of buggies.

  Deborah’s mother came up beside Judith. “Be sure to send us word about Samuel.”

  “Jah, I will.”

  Judith glanced at the house as more womenfolk stepped outside. She caught sight of Martha craning her neck in their direction. This wasn’t the time to share what the stranger had said. Her sister would accuse her once again of spreading stories.

  She leaned toward her friend. “I have more to tell you later.”

  A wide smile spread across Deborah’s face. “Jah, you better.” She turned and caught up with her mother.

  Ellen came up beside Judith, and they waited as several buggies passed them on the driveway. “Aenti Lilly is arranging a women’s get-together.”

  Rebecca reached for Judith’s hand. “Will Samuel die?” Her pale blue eyes probed Judith’s, awaiting an answer.

  Judith gulped. “Nay, Rebecca. He will be all right.”

  But Ellen picked up Rebecca and guided her into the back of the buggy. “That will be up to God.” She motioned for Martha to climb in, then turned to Judith. “It’s hard sometimes to accept His will.”

  Judith bowed her head. She hadn’t intended to discount God’s sovereignty. She just wanted to comfort her little sister and offer her hope.

  Ellen touched Judith’s arm. “Samuel is in God’s hands.”

  “That is true, I know.” Judith glanced into the buggy. Rebecca had nestled into Martha’s arms. “You girls be gut for Ellen.”

  Ellen scanned the yard. “Where did my boys run to?”

  Judith glanced toward the barn. Doubtless the new building had offered the nine-year-old twins a wonderful set of discoveries to explore.

  “Want me to look for them?” Martha already had one leg out of the buggy.

  “I’ll go.” Judith hurried away, hoping Ellen would keep Martha from following.

  The scent of fresh-cut lumber met Judith the moment she stepped into the barn. She drew in a deep breath, allowing the aroma to penetrate her senses. Most of the men had packed up their tools and were heading home to complete their own evening chores, but she could see Levi scattering straw over the calf pen and Andrew and Onkle Amos milking cows.

  Judith lifted her gaze to the empty loft. “Have you seen James and Jacob?” she asked Levi.

  The boys poked up their heads from behind one of the horse stalls. “We’re helping, Aenti Judith.” James came out from the stall and wiped the hay dust from his pants. The boys, although not identical twins, both had their father’s thick mop of sandy-colored hair.

  Judith motioned toward the door. “Your mamm is ready to go.”

  Jacob leaned the pitchfork against the wall, and James passed Levi the feed bucket. With David having gone with Judith’s parents to the hospital, the twins would have plenty of farm chores to do at home.

  Judith followed them to the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder. “There’s plenty of food in the haus.” She made it a general invitation, but she hoped Levi would stay.

  Levi crawled out from the calf pen. “I could use a gut meal when I finish here.”

  Judith smiled. “I’ll ready a heated plate.”

  Back outside, the evening air had turned chilly. Judith shot a short wave at Ellen pulling out from the driveway, then wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she’d remembered her cape.

  Her thoughts drifted to Samuel and how pale, even cold he looked with the bluish hue around his lips as he lay stretched out on the board. She hoped one of her mother’s quilts was in the buggy for him to snuggle under during the ride home.

  Judith walked back to the porch. She’d need a light to gather firewood. Even if her parents returned tonight, her father would be too exhausted to stock the woodbox.

  After locating the wooden matchsticks on the windowsill, she readied the wick on the lamp. Shielding her hand around the lit match so the breeze didn’t blow out the flame, she held it over the wick.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat caused her to jump.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Andrew motioned to her hand. “Watch out, it’s—”

  Before he could finish his statement, the flame reached the end of the match and burned her fingers. She threw it from her hand, and they both stomped. Andrew’s shoe smothered the flame and Judith’s shoe slammed onto his.

  “Ach, I’m sorry!”

  He motioned to her hand. “Did you get burned?”

  “Jah,” she replied and jammed her fingers into her mouth to soothe the pain.

  “Kumm, put water on it.” Andrew motioned to the well pump.

  “I’ll be okay,” she insisted, but Andrew had already turned and walked to the well. He pumped the handle to prime the well while she held her hand under the spigot. He worked the pump with such force the water gushed out, splattering Judith’s dress and soaking her shoes.

  “I’m so sorry.” He released the handle, but the primed water continued to pour out.

  Judith chuckled. He didn’t seem to know his own strength. Anytime she primed the pump, she needed to put all her weight into each thrust, and it still took five or six times before water started spitting out. “I guess this is what I get for stomping on your foot.”

  “How is the burn?”

  Numb, if she dared to complain. Dousing with icy well water during the fall season had a tendency to deaden the nerves.

  Poor Andrew worked his hands together like he was wringing water from a rag. His nerves seemed as flimsy as the threadbare patches that covered the knees of his pants. Although older than the other unmarried youth, he didn’t seem to have many social skills around women. He was shy, Judith supposed, or maybe just contentedly single. In any case, he was known to be more studious of the Bible and considered wiser than the other young men in their community, probably because his father was the bishop.

  He surprised her by reaching for her hand. “Let me look.”

  “I, um . . .” Now she was trembling. “I’m all right.” Besides, hadn’t it dawned on him that he couldn’t see if a blister had formed now that the sun had set?

  “Your hand is cold.” He dropped her hand as if the reality of his action had startled him. “I’ll be by in the morning to do your daed’s chores.” His words ran together as if he were the one now shivering.

  “Denki. Daed will be grateful to have help.”

  “I’ll be praying for Samuel,” he said.

  A lump formed in her throat, and Andrew took a step closer as if he sensed how difficult it was to reply. He jammed his hands inside his pockets. “I’ll be praying for you too.”

  Judith sucked on her bottom lip and nodded. She wouldn’t deny needing prayer, but Andrew’s mention only amplified her feelings of guilt.

  The barn door closed hard and caught their attention. Levi jogged over to them, then lifted his lantern to illuminate their faces. “Can you give Judith and me a few minutes?” Levi asked his cousin.

  Andrew nodded and turned.

  “Don’t leave without eating.” Judith motioned to the house. “There’s plenty of food inside.”

  Levi handed Andrew the lantern. “We won’t need the light.”

  Andrew trained his eyes on Judith, then left without saying a word.

  Levi motioned with his thumb in Andrew’s direction. “What did he want?”

  Judith flipped her hand palm side up. “I burned my fingers on a match.”

  Levi reached for her hand. His touch caused a coal-oven of heat to disperse over her, and any thought of needing a cape passed.

  He released her hand. “Let’s walk.”

  She ran her hand along her arm to smooth the goose bumps that had formed from his touch.

  “Are you all right?”

  She’d be all right if she could calm herself before he noticed her nervous fidgeting. “I’m worried, is all.”

  “About Samuel?” He stopped her hand from brushing
her sleeve and held it.

  While Andrew’s hands had a calming effect, Levi’s hold was unsettling. She shivered more, and not from the cool air. He squeezed her hand when she didn’t reply, and his smile spread wide. “Kumm mitt mich.”

  Judith freed her hand from his. “I need to stay close to the house.” What would people say if they were seen wandering off into the dark? “Besides,” she said, “there is food inside to put away and . . . and you haven’t eaten.” Her stomach had rolled so many times, she feared anything she attempted to eat wouldn’t stay down long.

  “I’ll eat later. Kumm, I won’t keep you long.”

  Levi’s convincing arm-tug overrode her apprehension, and Judith followed him beyond the spread of the porch’s lantern light. They stopped under the low-lying branches of a maple tree.

  “From here we can still see the porch.”

  Judith glanced in that direction. With the lamp lit, she could easily see the last of the women milling outside on the porch with Aenti Lilly.

  “You spent a great deal of time under this tree today,” he said.

  She tapped the tree trunk as if patting the hand of a good friend. “The shade kept the children cool.” She hid the real reason. From under the tree, she’d had an unobstructed view of him as he worked on the barn. Judith leaned against the tree. She’d spent endless hours in this same spot dreaming of the day she’d be alone with Levi.

  He rested his shoulder against the trunk and faced her. “Children love you, don’t they?”

  “The way my sister batted her lashes at you during prayer, I’d say children love you too.”

  He chuckled. “Rebecca is sweet.”

  “I was referring to Martha.”

  “Martha’s seventeen. She’s hardly a child anymore.”

  While to most members of their settlement, turning seventeen meant one had reached courting age, Judith’s parents developed their own guidelines. They had requested that she wait until age nineteen, and she assumed the same restrictions would apply to Martha.

  Levi leaned forward, his breath warming her face. “It’s nett the Lord’s will to be jealous of your sister.”

  The ridges of bark pressed against her spine as she held her reply.