by Ruth Reid
“That will take a little time.” He guided her toward a narrow hallway.
Without a lamp, she couldn’t see anything down the dark hallway. She walked close behind Andrew as he led the way. “Whose haus is this? Why isn’t there anyone here?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” He stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door, then stepped away to clear her view.
Judith stared at the wooden bed. The quilt she’d sold to Mrs. Stanly was spread neatly over it. “I don’t understand.”
“I bought the quilt.” He studied her eyes. “I bought this haus.”
Her hands began to tremble. He’d bought a house in the adjoining district. It made sense, buying a house in Clare’s district. But what was her box doing on the bed? She had left the box and the rock at the river.
Andrew rushed to the bed and picked up the box. His eyes widened as though he, too, was surprised. “I, um . . .”
Judith bolted down the hall and didn’t breathe again until she was standing on the porch.
Andrew stepped outside. He reached for her hand. “It’s small. But it borders the south district and—” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “You don’t like the haus?”
“Will you take me home nau?”
Andrew came closer. “What’s wrong?”
She squeezed her eyes closed and dropped her gaze to the sun-faded boards of the porch.
“Why did you leave the box at the river?”
Unable to look at him, she turned away, but his strong hands redirected her. “Andrew, please.” His uncompromising stare continued until she sighed. “The rock no longer glowed. Ich muscht have done something . . .” She dried her eyes. “I got you into trouble with the bishop. I was selfish. I . . . I was filled with envy. You shouldn’t have made the box for me. I couldn’t possibly take it with me.” Her voice quivered. “I had to leave you behind,” she whispered.
His hand brushed her cheek. “Why? Judith, you’re special to me. Can you really leave me behind so easily?”
Her silence agitated him. “I know the haus is small,” he said. “I’ll put on an addition. I’ll increase the number of bedrooms. I’ll—”
“Andrew, the house is nice. I just wasn’t prepared to see my quilt on a bed that you made, that’s all.” She paused. “I’m happy for you. I really—”
He moved closer. His eyes focusing on her mouth, he leaned toward her.
“We shouldn’t—”
He brought her against him and, disregarding her dutiful objection, kissed her. A steady, mesmerizing kiss that suspended all reason to pull away. She lifted her hand to his jaw, touching the prickle of whiskers. She pushed away and cringed as she gasped for air. Why hadn’t she seen his jaw shadowed with hair growth before this? Before she kissed a man about to be married.
“What’s wrong?” He tried to reach for her, but she stepped away.
“Don’t touch me.” Without giving heed to self-restraint, she had melted with ease into his arms. She couldn’t allow him that close again.
“What did I do?”
“I told you not to kiss me like that!”
He eased closer, and she backed up until she was up against the porch banister.
She pointed to his face. “You’re getting married.”
“I hope so.” He scratched the whiskers. “I was in a hurry to get to the bus station, but I like the idea of not shaving.” He reached for her hand. “You kissed me too, and neither of us was pretending.”
“It was wrong.” She bowed her head. “Andrew, I know about Clare. She told me you and her—” It hurt to say the words.
“What about us? There’s nothing.”
Judith lifted her head and met his eyes in a stare. “The bishop—your father—gave his approval of your marriage.”
Andrew slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry you heard that.” He came closer and drew her into his arms. “I didn’t hear about that arrangement until today.” He kissed her forehead.
“Andrew, please stop. It’s wrong.”
He kissed her cheek. “I don’t think so.” The tips of his fingers followed her jawline. “You still only want to kiss your husband the way you kissed me?”
“Jah.”
His warm breath created a stir. The hairs along her arm stood in the wake of his feather kisses. She found it impossible to breathe normally. “Andrew.”
“Then marry me so I can kiss you again.” His whiskers brushed against her face. “Marry me, Judith.”
She pulled away before their lips met. “I can’t.” Her throat tightened. Glancing up, she noticed his blank stare and closed her eyes. “I can’t, Andrew.”
“I love you, Judith. I thought you had feelings for me too.”
Lord, I love him, but he’d have to leave the church if he married me.
Andrew blew out a breath. “I wore out the knees in my pants praying for you. Asking God for you.”
Judith opened her eyes. “You were asking God for me?”
He nodded. “I prayed for us. For children. I prayed that your eyes would be open.” He cupped her face. “I love you.” He tipped her chin up with his thumb. “I’ll sell this haus if you want to move to Ohio. But I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She moved her head sideways to avoid looking into his eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be vowing her love to him, and it would never work.
Andrew brought her head back to face him. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “I’m asking you to marry me, Judith Fischer.”
“Your father won’t allow it.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with him.” He raised his head. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
She swallowed. “Andrew.”
“I know that you do. I see it in your eyes.”
“Jah, I love you. But it doesn’t change anything. We still cannot get married. Your father—”
Andrew’s mouth captured her words again, and she surrendered in his embrace. He broke from the kiss. “Are you going to marry me?”
“You know my heart wants to answer jah. But I still can’t.”
When she tried to break loose from him, he held her tight.
“I won’t leave God for you, but I’ll leave the community and my family. I would like my father’s blessing, but he won’t stop me from marrying you.” He wiped his hand against her wet face. “Don’t you understand? I haven’t stopped loving God, and I won’t, ever. But my life here in this community would not be complete without you.”
“Don’t say that. You wanted ministry.”
“Not without you.” He dropped his arms from her and shrugged. “I had a dream of us praying together, only instead of your outer kapp, you wore a sleeping prayer kapp, and I had a beard. Don’t you see? God showed me us praying together, married.”
“He showed me a dream also. I saw a road, and then it split three ways, and I was told to choose.”
Andrew swallowed. “Which way did you choose?”
“I was directed toward the one in the middle. A mere footpath.” She lifted her hand to cover her face. “Andrew, it muscht lead to Ohio.”
Andrew laughed. “Kumm mitt mich,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “The center path, you say?”
“Jah, but don’t laugh. I’m afraid.”
He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let you go nau.”
They walked past the buggy. “Where are you taking me?”
“Your eyes were closed when we pulled in.” He continued to chuckle as he led her out of the wooded trail and out to the main paved road.
Judith gasped. The road was split just like the one in her dream. She pivoted around, taking in the glimmering golden leaves. Unable to speak, she closed her eyes. Is this true, God? This path leads to Andrew. But what about the bishop?
Andrew motioned toward the house. “The center path is with me.”
Judith’s eyes watered. “Ach, Andrew.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Jah, I’ll marry
you.” Just as Tobias had told her, her eyes were opened—she understood the dream— the right path.
As they kissed, the snow began to fall. Wet snowflakes canvassed the sky and covered their heads.
“This is my dream, Andrew. Ice pellets were falling from the sky and—” She’d forgotten about Samuel.
“And what?”
“In that same dream, I saw Samuel, only he was frozen under a sheet of ice.”
“Shh . . . It’s okay.” He guided her head against his chest and rested his chin on her prayer cloth.
“I think I was wrong about Samuel walking.”
He lifted his chin and pulled away enough to look into her eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“My dreams were to show me you. You prayed for my eyes to be open, and I think they are nau.” A lump formed in her throat. “Andrew, maybe I’ve been wrong this entire time.”
“You’re not making sense. None of this means Samuel won’t walk.”
“I think it does mean that. Samuel never got his legs free from the ice in my dreams. God knows how many hairs are on one’s head, He knows how many steps Samuel will take. Ach, why am I just nau understanding this? Tobias said his steps are ordered, but he never said how many steps he would take.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’ll tell your father I was wrong, and maybe he will give us his blessing.”
“Why do you say that?” His tone turned stern.
She turned her head, but he rested his hand on her cheek and guided her back to face him.
“Are you saying you didn’t see an angel?” He locked his gaze on her.
“No. I saw him. But the dream—” She paused when his jaw tightened. “I’ll tell your father I was wrong about Samuel walking.”
“No, you will not.” His brows furrowed. “He’ll want you to say you were wrong about seeing an angel.” He shook his head. “You’re not telling him that. We’ve got to stand on faith.” He tipped her chin. “We’ll pray for God’s mercy as long as it takes until we see Samuel walk.” He kissed her forehead, then peered into her eyes and smiled. “You might be patching holes in your dress, but we’ll keep praying.” He dropped to his knees and reached for her hand. “Let’s pray nau.”
Judith knelt with him. Andrew clasped her hands, and the cold ground no longer chilled her bones. Instead, her core warmed. As she closed her eyes, a golden glow filled her view. While Andrew prayed for her surety of her convictions and for Samuel’s complete healing, a faint hum of chanting sounds filled her ears.
“Denki, God. Aemen.”
Judith lifted her head. “I believe God gave me a new measure of faith.”
A wide smile spread across Andrew’s face. “Hold on to that belief,” he said, reaching for her hand to help her off her knees.
“Jah, I’m convinced. No one can change mei surety nau.”
He tugged her hand. “Kumm, let’s tell Samuel first about us getting married. I need to tell him that his prayers were answered.” Andrew chuckled. “He prayed that you wouldn’t leave the bus station until I reached you.”
“He knew that you wanted to stop me?”
“He knows I want to marry you too.” He tugged her arm. “He asked me to. He said something about having too many girls in the house.”
“Ach, so honorable of you to help him in his dilemma.” Judith looked up at the falling snow. “We had better hurry. At the rate of this snow kumming down, the roads will get slippery soon.”
Chapter Thirty
To Judith’s dismay, several buggies lined her parents’ driveway. “Why do you think everyone is here?” She pointed to the bishop’s buggy. “Your father’s here.”
Andrew reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “That’s gut. We’ll tell them together.” He parked the buggy next to the others and turned on the seat to face her. “Whatever happens, I love you. If they oppose us getting married and joining the church, we leave together.”
Judith nodded. “Whatever happens,” she repeated.
During the buggy ride, she had prayed for a miracle. She wanted to be accepted and wanted Andrew to be eligible for ministry. She asked God to show them the way. Andrew’s silence didn’t surprise her. A man after God’s heart, Andrew would have also continued praying. Judith smiled with the thought of knowing that even in silence, they were before God in one accord.
She accepted Andrew’s hand to help her from the buggy, knowing the menfolk were watching nearby. Andrew smiled without so much as a hint of fear.
“Lord, if it be Your will, show them the truth,” she whispered, then directed her gaze to the sky. “It’s snowing hard. Why do you suppose they’ve gathered outside the barn?”
Andrew shrugged. “Let’s find out.”
David came out of the barn and rejoined the other men. “He isn’t in there.”
The urgency in his voice caused Judith’s heart to pound wildly.
“How can a paralyzed boy go far?” Daed inquired. His slumped posture made him look years older. With his head bowed, his shoulders shook.
Judith increased her pace. “What’s happened?”
David rubbed his beard. “Samuel’s missing.”
“How can it be so?” She scanned the snow-covered yard. “Where’s Martha?”
David cleared his throat. “Don’t know.”
Andrew stepped closer. “How long have they been gone?”
“We came back from town and found the house empty.” Daed drew a deep breath. David’s arm came around his father’s shoulder. “I’ll keep looking. You should—”
“I cannot wait with the women while my children are missing.” Daed’s voice rose, but his mouth trembled with every word.
Zechariah cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should all pray.”
Certainly God had spoken to the bishop’s heart. Outside of service, she hadn’t heard him pray much. Usually he offered to seek the scriptures.
The bishop eyed each of them gathered, gave a stiff nod, then clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head. The others followed.
She exchanged looks with Andrew, who lifted his right shoulder in a slight shrug. She bowed her head, but heaviness penetrated her limbs. She felt pulled away, and the bishop’s voice grew distant.
A golden haze lifted from the earth and shards of icicles sprayed a distant form. Moving closer, she could see Samuel. He pulled on his legs, then stopped. He took gasping breaths, his face contorted. Finally, as he began to recline, a voice called out, telling him to stand. Without effort, Samuel rose to his feet . . .
Chanting sounds grew louder as the dream faded. Judith opened her eyes and scanned the area. Tobias stood at the edge of the apple orchard, beckoning her to come. Although the bishop’s prayer hadn’t ended, she took a step away.
Andrew grabbed her hand, his eyes wide and searching. She motioned with her head toward the apple orchard.
The bishop had just breathed aemen to conclude his prayer when Judith blurted, “Did anyone search by the river?” She pivoted without waiting for their reply and bolted from the group.
Andrew and David both kept stride while the others followed at a slower pace.
Once they reached the river, Judith slid to a halt. Martha was lying on the ground, and Samuel was seated alongside her, patting her back.
Samuel looked up. “Judith!” He pushed off Martha’s shoulder to stand and made a few tottering steps toward her.
Judith reached out her arms. “Be careful.” Then reality sank in. Samuel was walking. Taking steps without assistance. Tears flowed freely, clouding her vision, but nothing could take from the miracle happening before her. Denki, God. Denki.
Andrew boasted a wide smile.
“Look what God has done,” she said, turning to Andrew and David.
Andrew nodded. “Ach, what a glorious sight, jah?”
David’s mouth hung agape. Then, slowly moving toward Samuel, he released a pent-up sob. “Samuel, you’re walking!” He gathered Samuel into his arms and twirled him in a circle.
Daed and Bishop Lapp arrived together.
“Denki, God. Mei boy is safe,” Daed choked.
The bishop stepped forward. “Is he all right?”
David nodded at the older men. “Ach, more than fine.” He gazed at Samuel and asked, “Feel strong enough to show them?”
“Jah, put me down.”
David gently lowered Samuel to his feet. “Watch him nau. You’ll see.”
The boy’s smile widened as he made his way toward his father.
“Ach!” Daed covered his mouth with his hand and bent to one knee.
Bishop Lapp’s mouth hung open. He looked at Judith, but broke eye contact and lowered his head.
Andrew moved closer and tentatively patted Judith’s back. “It’s a wundebaar miracle, isn’t it?” He reached into his pocket, removed a handkerchief, and offered it to her.
Judith looked around the clearing. The long afternoon sun rays cast a golden hue over the freshly fallen snow, reminding her of the glow she’d seen in her dream. The light softened everyone’s features. Daed’s wet face held a sparkle as he cuddled with her little brother.
Then her eyes stopped on Martha, still lying on the ground. With all the excitement over Samuel’s miracle, Martha hadn’t moved. “Samuel, what happened to Martha?”
“She went to sleep. I couldn’t wake her.”
David rushed to Martha and jostled her shoulders. “Martha, can you hear me?”
Their sister moaned and fluttered her lashes a few times before she opened her eyes.
David helped her into a seated position.
Daed brushed Judith’s shoulder. “Hold Samuel,” he said, passing her brother from his arms into hers. He knelt beside David and Martha. “What happened?”
Martha squinted, blinked a few times, then slowly shook her head. “It was odd. While I was praying for God to forgive me . . . I heard singing.” She looked up, scanned everyone, then locked on Judith. “I didn’t understand any of the words. They weren’t Englisch or Deitsch.” She turned to Daed. “Then I heard the door slam, and it brought me out of my stupor. Samuel wasn’t in his room. By the time I ran outside, I saw him walking—right beside a huge Englischer. I called out, but neither of them responded, so I followed them here.” Her eyes grew bigger. “Daed, when the Englischer turned to look at me, his eyes were mesmerizing.”