by Jan Drexler
Wilhelm nodded. “And the land? It is nearby?”
“Ja, for sure. You can take the deed when you get the boy. It shouldn’t be hard to sell the property.” Herr Fischer grew very still. “That is my one condition. You must sell the land and take the boy away. Don’t live here. And don’t tell the Amish people where you plan to settle.”
“Why not?”
Herr Fischer’s smile seemed forced. “We don’t want the boy torn between you, his real family, and the Amish woman who is caring for him now. We don’t want him to be confused.”
Wilhelm nodded. He could understand that. In these circumstances, the lies he would need to tell were nothing. The money in his pocket was what counted. “And if the boy doesn’t do well?”
Herr Fischer shrugged. “There are orphanages in Chicago. If you don’t like him, you can drop him off when you get there.” He leaned forward, smiling a true smile. “Perhaps there he will find his real family.”
Wilhelm tapped his pipe on the edge of the table. One hundred sixty acres. “I will need to discuss this with my wife. I can give you my answer in the morning?”
Herr Fischer stood and Wilhelm rose with him. “In the morning will be fine.”
Wilhelm smiled as he shook the other man’s hand. “I think I will be able to give a positive answer. But in twenty years of marriage, I have learned to always consult my wife before making a deal.” He raised his finger. “She is the one with the head for business, but I think she will agree to this.” Wilhelm imagined the smile on Greta’s face when he told her the news. “Ja, I think she will.”
19
Saturday morning dawned as bright and clear as the last five days had been. Cap pumped water into his washbasin, then cupped his hand to catch enough for a drink. He sucked in his breath at the icy coolness, then laughed. He felt like he could build a whole barn by himself today.
Naomi. Cap couldn’t stop thinking about her. He saw her face in the reflection in his washbasin and heard her voice in the June breeze playing in the treetops. He grinned at the very notion. He was acting like a young man who had just discovered his first love.
His grin gentled into a smile as he washed his face. Not his first love. He had discovered what a blessing it was to fall in love for the second time, with the knowledge of how precious and fleeting life could be. He knew how important it was to make every moment count.
Done with his washing and shaving, he threw the soapy water in an arc over his garden and hung the worn tin basin from its nail in the lean-to. He went inside the house and pulled his Dutch oven out of the fireplace coals, then lifted the lid with the poker. The cornbread was baked to perfection. He cut out a chunk and sat at his rough table. After a silent prayer of thanks, he covered the steaming cake with honey and took a bite, savoring it as he looked around the cabin.
Building the loft would have to wait until he could take the logs he had cut to the new sawmill over in Goshen, and that wouldn’t happen for another few weeks. Meanwhile, if he wanted Naomi to move into this cabin and make it a home for the three of them, he had more work to do. The rough table he had built for himself needed to be planed and sanded, and the sticks he had been using for legs needed to be replaced with something sturdier. Perhaps trestle legs would be good.
He took another bite of cornbread as he thought of what he would be asking Naomi to give up. Eli and Lydia had built a beautiful, functional home, but all he had to offer was this cabin. With time and work, it would become more comfortable. Davey could help, and any future children he and Naomi might have.
The cornbread stuck in his throat at that thought. He would never forget Martha and their son, but God truly did redeem the lost years. Like Job, he could hope to have all of God’s blessings restored to him.
One evening last week, Naomi had spoken of Annalise’s loom, and how she was learning to weave. Her dream was to help support herself and Davey by weaving and selling wool cloth with the wool from their own flock of sheep.
Cap shoved the last corner of the wedge of cornbread into his mouth and rose from the table. The sheep would need a place to graze, shelter, and water. He could have all of that ready for Naomi when he proposed to her. He wrapped the leftover bread in a towel and took the Dutch oven outside to scrub it clean. Jacob would help him plan what he needed to build for the flock and give him some pointers in how to care for the sheep. Naomi was determined to have her own wool business, and he wanted to do everything he could to help her.
Before the sun had climbed halfway to its zenith, he was walking into Jacob Yoder’s farmyard. He saw his friend working in the pens next to the barn, and so headed that way. As he got closer, his steps faltered. Jacob seemed to be working at pounding a stake into the ground, but his movements were erratic. On the last swing, his hammer missed the stake, and Jacob sunk to the ground.
“Jacob!” Cap ran to the fence. “Are you all right?”
Jacob knelt on the ground in the middle of a herd of bleating sheep. His face had been buried in his arm, but when he heard Cap, he wiped his arm across his face.
“Ja.” His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ja, I’m fine.” He didn’t look at Cap.
He was crying. Strong, capable Jacob was crying.
“Something is wrong. Is it Mattie?” Cap glanced toward the house. “Is she all right?”
Jacob nodded and waded through the sheep to the fence. He climbed over it and joined Cap. “Mattie is fine. We’ve just . . . well, we’ve had a rough time.”
Cap tried not to watch as Jacob wiped his face with a handkerchief and composed himself. Everything had seemed all right with them last Sunday at church, but now that he thought about it, Mattie had seemed pale and withdrawn. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Jacob leaned against the fence and Cap joined him, looking into the trees,watching the breeze turn the new green leaves this way and that as he waited for Jacob to speak.
“My mamm used to quote a verse from Job,” Jacob said. He brushed some dried mud off his trouser leg. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” His voice choked at the end, but he swallowed and went on as Cap’s stomach sank. “I never really knew what she meant until now.” He turned toward Cap. “I don’t know how much you know of our family’s story, but we’ve experienced death.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face and through his beard. “Too many times.” He shook his head. “But this . . . I don’t know if I can handle this.”
“Jacob, tell me what happened.”
“We were expecting a little one, but she . . . she never made it far enough to be born. She never even had a chance at life.”
“But Mattie is all right?”
Jacob nodded. “She is sad, and I try to make her feel better. I even stopped talking about . . . it, because it made her cry.”
“Are you all right?”
“Me?” Jacob gave a short bark of a laugh. “Of course I’m all right. I didn’t suffer the way—” He drew a deep breath that caught at the end. “I didn’t suffer like Mattie did. I’m fine.”
Cap looked for a place to sit and saw a bench in the shade of the barn wall. He grabbed at Jacob’s sleeve and pulled him to it and sat him down, then he straddled the bench facing his friend.
“I know something of what you’re going through.”
Jacob glanced at him, and then down again. “I remember now, you said you lost your family.”
Cap nodded. “My wife and son both died in childbirth. In one horrible day I went from being the happiest, most content man to the depths of despair.”
The man next to him stared at his boots. When he spoke, it was as soft as a whisper. “How did you get through that? I mean, I lost my daughter, but I still have Mattie. I can’t imagine losing her too.”
Leaning his elbows on his knees, Cap let silence settle between him while he went back into his memories. How had he survived losing Martha and the baby? Perhaps he hadn’t.
“I lost part of myse
lf that day too. A piece of me died and was buried with them.” He looked up at Jacob. “You’ll never forget that baby. Even if you have a dozen children, you’ll never forget the one you lost.”
Jacob sniffed and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief again.
“Meanwhile, you need to show Mattie that you grieve as much as she does. You need to let this grief bring you together, not push you apart.”
The other man sat back, nodding. “Ja, for sure. I remember how our family was when we lost our Hansli and the girls.” He shook his head. “I can’t even tell you how broken our family was during that time.”
Cap nodded. The Yoder family had seen their share of grief.
Jacob went on. “It happened years ago, but you’re right. My memories of my little brother are as fresh as if I had eaten breakfast with him this morning.” Jacob smiled. “The pain fades, ja?”
Cap nodded again. “The pain fades, but the memories don’t.”
Jacob wiped his eyes again. “I didn’t ask you why you came over. I’m sure it wasn’t to have me tell you my woes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Cap stood. “I came over to see if you would help me get my place ready for Naomi’s sheep, but we can talk about that later.”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “Naomi’s sheep? Is there something you want to tell me?”
Cap lifted a finger to his lips. “Not yet. This is a secret. Naomi doesn’t even know I’m planning this.”
“She won’t hear it from me.” Jacob sighed and looked toward the house. “I’ll come by your place on Monday. Right now, I need to talk to my wife.”
Reaching down, Cap helped Jacob up. “I’ll see you tomorrow at your folks’, then. Remember, don’t tell anyone what we’re planning.”
Jacob grasped his hand and grinned. “Not until you tell me I can.”
“Look, Memmi, look!”
Naomi shaded her eyes to see what Davey was pointing toward. A turkey vulture’s unmistakable outline soared in a wide circle above the road where they were walking.
“Will it get one of our lambs?”
Davey slipped his hand into hers as he asked the question, and Naomi looked down at his fingers curled around hers. When did his hands get so big? And his head was nearly even with her elbow. Long gone were the days when she could pick him up and snuggle him in her arms.
“Ne, the vultures don’t hunt. Our lambs are safe from them.”
“What do they eat?” He turned in circles as he tried to keep the bird in view.
“They eat animals that have died, but they don’t kill them.”
As Davey turned to face the road again, he dropped Naomi’s hand. “There’s Cap!”
Her boy ran to meet his friend. Cap was walking out of Jacob and Mattie’s lane and met Davey’s headlong rush with open arms. He caught him and swung him in a circle, Davey laughing the whole way around.
Then Cap looked up and their gazes locked. He gave her a smile, then turned back to Davey. They spoke for a minute, and then Davey ran toward Jacob’s barn while Cap continued on his way toward her.
“You’re a fine sight to see this morning.”
Even though Naomi was beginning to be accustomed to Cap’s compliments, his words still brought a flush of heat to her cheeks.
“Hello yourself,” she said as they met in the middle of the road.
“Are you on your way to visit Mattie?” Cap bent his head toward hers and she found herself leaning into his strength.
“Ja, for sure. And the lambs.” Naomi was going to say something about how often they visited the lambs each week, but the look on Cap’s face stopped her. “Is something wrong?”
Cap looked toward the barn, and then took her arm and started leading her toward home. “Jacob just went to talk to Mattie, so I don’t think they want visitors just now.”
Naomi twisted back. “What about Davey?”
“I told him to only visit the lambs and then come home. I told him not to bother Jacob.”
“Jacob told you what happened?”
Cap nodded, his face solemn. “And Mattie told you?”
Naomi nodded and pulled her arm out of his grasp. Before he could react, she had slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He pulled his elbow close to his body and matched his footsteps to hers.
“I hate that Mattie has to go through this.”
Cap made an agreeing sound under his breath. “Jacob, too. It’s very hard for both of them.”
“It isn’t fair.” Naomi felt a weight lift off her heart. At last she had someone she could talk to about Mattie’s secret.
“What isn’t?”
“Mattie and Jacob waited so long to have a child, and once they were finally expecting, this happened.”
“We don’t know why things like this happen, but God does.”
“You think God cares about Mattie and Jacob, and what happens to them?” She gestured toward the sky where she had been told God lived. That God out there.
Cap’s smile was crooked, as if heartache and joy were fighting a battle. “I know God cares about them. Nothing happens to us that he doesn’t sift through his fingers first, and he knows every detail. He will help them get through this grief.”
Naomi bit back the words she wanted to say. How could Cap believe such a thing? “If God knows everything, then why doesn’t he just stop these bad things from happening?”
Cap shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that. But I do know he doesn’t make us suffer alone. And he turns our sorrow into joy.” He smiled again and took her hand. “He turns our mourning into dancing, as the psalmist said. What we think is the end of the story is only the beginning in his eyes.”
Cap’s mild words sent a lightning stab of fury through Naomi. She dropped his arm and faced him. “If God is so powerful, he could have saved Mattie’s baby.” His mouth dropped open, but she went on. “I think I can do a better job of running this world than a God who lets babies die and lets tornadoes take little boys’ families away and sends rain when we don’t need it and no rain when we do.” Naomi took a deep breath. “There’s so much wrong in this world that I wonder if there is a God who is sovereign and loves us the way the preachers say.”
“Naomi, I thought—”
She blinked to keep tears from falling. “You thought what?”
“I thought you were . . . I mean, when we’re worshiping, you look as though you’re praying, and singing, and worshiping just like the rest of us.”
A cold pit started opening in Naomi’s stomach. “Of course I am. What does that have to do with Mattie and Jacob?”
Cap ran a hand over his face and rubbed at his beard. “When we worship, whom do we worship?”
The pit spun. “We . . . we worship . . .” Naomi had never considered the question before. “We worship God, of course.”
“What God?” His words were quiet, gentle. “Is it a god that you’ve invented and decided you like? One who doesn’t let our loved ones be hurt? Or do you worship the God who is revealed to us in the Good Book?”
The pit swirled. Naomi walked to a stump at the side of the road and sat on it. Cap watched her as she thought about his words, then he squatted down in front of her and took her hand in his.
“Naomi, listen.”
She shook her head and turned away from him. His words confused her, and that open pit in her soul threatened to draw her in. Why couldn’t he just be quiet and let things be the way they had always been? She and Davey were happy. She didn’t need God, or even Cap, to make her content.
“You don’t know what or why I worship.” Her voice came as a whisper. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m a good Amish woman. I follow the Ordnung, I take my son to church, I teach him about God . . .” She faltered. When was the last time she had spoken to Davey about God?
“I said it before, and I’m afraid it might be true.” Cap paused until she looked at him. When he continued, his voice was gentle, but his words felt like stones thrown at her one by
one, pushing her into the swirling darkness. “You’ve put Davey and your love for him in the place where God belongs.”
“He’s my son.” She wanted her words to hit him like a rock, but they came out as a weak cry. “Shouldn’t he be important to me?”
Cap stood up, looking down at her with pity in his gaze. “Until you put Davey in his proper place, I’m afraid you’ll never understand what it is to put God in his proper place, as the only one worthy of your worship.”
He turned and started toward his home, leaving her sitting on the tree stump. He looked back once, but he didn’t pause. He kept walking away with relentless steps.
Cap found it easy to avoid Naomi the next afternoon at the off Sunday gathering in Christian Yoder’s shady yard, since she seemed to be working just as hard to avoid him. But Davey noticed him sitting on the edge of the porch before dinner was ready and came running over.
“Memmi said she didn’t want to talk to you today.” Davey leaned against Cap’s knees and looked into his eyes. “She said you said enough yesterday.”
Cap glanced over at Naomi. She had her back turned toward him as she stood in the circle with the other women. The sound of their bright chatter and laughter floated toward him in the heat of the July afternoon.
“Ja, she probably thinks so.” An uneasy feeling weighed him down today. Yesterday’s disagreement with Naomi bothered him enough that he didn’t sleep last night. How could he have been so wrong about her?
Davey leaned closer until he was nose to nose with him. “Aren’t you and Memmi friends anymore?”
Cap sighed as he stood and took Davey’s hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Davey fell in step with him as Cap headed toward Jacob’s farm, directly across the road from Christian’s. His first thought was to take Davey to see the sheep at Jacob’s farm, but that thought made the unease buckle and swell. Yesterday he had planned to build a place for Naomi’s sheep on his farm, but today . . . today those plans were dead.