by Amy Lillard
Hannah laughed. “I’m just playing.”
“I love him,” Tillie said, her voice taking on a hurt edge.
“Of course you do,” Leah said.
“It’s just hard, you know?” Tillie said.
Their chattering grew quiet.
“Nothing’s easy,” Hannah said. “Not leaving or staying.”
“Amen,” Leah whispered into the night.
“Staying is good,” Gracie put in.
Somewhere in the room, someone drew in a deep breath to speak, but no words followed. Leah didn’t know who it was; only that it wasn’t her.
“Nothing’s forever,” Hannah finally said.
It was the truth. Except leaving. That was forever. Leah couldn’t imagine how Hannah could return. Nothing would ever be the same. Or maybe she was okay with that. But Leah knew. She understood that nothing would ever be the same again. Some long-ago writer said you can never go home again. This must be what he was talking about. Being home was the best and the worst thing. Being here tonight with her sisters and cousin was more pain than pleasure. And yet she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
“It feels like forever,” Tillie said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gracie said.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Let’s talk about you and Jamie.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Leah could hear the wistfulness in her voice, and she was glad for the darkness that hid her wince. Jamie was no good for Gracie. Couldn’t she see that?
“He seemed pretty chummy to me,” Hannah said.
“He’s just looking for a mamm for Peter.” Leah hated the negative tone in her voice. But couldn’t they see?
“I’m okay with that.” Gracie’s voice was barely above a whisper in the dark.
“Really?” Tillie asked.
“Well, jah. I . . . I have always wanted to be married.”
“That’s what every girl wants,” Hannah agreed.
Just the thought broke Leah’s heart. It was every girl’s dream. They had all been raised to know their place in the community and their role in the family. They had all been raised to be married. Yet somehow, Leah had been cheated out of that. Or perhaps it simply wasn’t in God’s plan for her. Just as she had thought that it was not in God’s plan for Gracie. Now her cousin was talking about getting married for marriage’s sake. Gracie deserved better than that. Couldn’t she see it?
“Eunice always says love will come,” Gracie said. “I have to have faith that this is what God wants and love will come.”
Leah shook her head. “I never heard her say that.”
“Me neither,” Hannah added.
“She does,” Tillie agreed. “All the time.”
“Maybe something she started after we left,” Leah mused.
“But you and Melvin already love each other,” Hannah pointed out.
“We’re the lucky ones,” Tillie said, but the sad note in her voice made Leah think about their conversation from the day before. Was Tillie really thinking about leaving the Amish? Because she was so in love with Melvin she would do anything to be with him.
You were in love with Benuel. Hannah was in love with Aaron.
It might be true that Hannah and Aaron were a couple once again and would be married by this time next year. That wasn’t the issue. Hannah and Leah had both loved and both left. Tillie could too.
Love didn’t always hold everything together.
* * *
Jamie looked around the one-room schoolhouse and tried to remain positive. This was the right plan. He hoped so, anyway.
“Do you have any questions?” Amanda Swartzentruber couldn’t be a nicer person. She was kind and sweet, but he could tell that she had a handle on her classroom. Even if they were on their best behavior in front of their visitors, the entire class was attentive and joyous. And that was something Peter could use. Or so Jamie thought.
He looked around the room. Bright-colored posters about letters and manners, colors and presidents covered the walls. One bulletin board boasted pumpkins, apples, and scarecrows made from multicolored pieces of construction paper. It had been so warm lately that he hadn’t given the time much thought. But it was already September, and soon fall would be upon them.
The room was inviting, warm, and cheerful. And yet he couldn’t say the words that would authorize Peter to stay.
The boy squeezed his hand. Jamie looked down, but Peter was looking elsewhere. That gentle grasp had been for comfort and not about gaining his attention. How could he leave him here, with a stranger?
Then Leah’s words came back to him. He needed to do this for Peter. He needed to give him a chance to start a normal life. And the boy couldn’t do that if he was being shuffled around with Jamie everywhere he went and writing his letters at night after supper. He needed proper schooling. And maybe being around other kids now would help him find his voice again.
“Jamie?”
He stirred himself out of his thoughts and trained his gaze on the young teacher. If he had to guess, she was about Gracie’s age—younger than Leah—and competent. Her blond hair was worn in their traditional style, which made her brown eyes stand out even more. “Sorry. What was that?”
“Would you like to stay through lunch, maybe play with the children during recess? That will give you both time to adjust.”
He tried to shake his head, but he nodded instead. “Jah,” he heard himself say. “That would be good.”
* * *
He could find no fault in Amanda or any of her students. Most had more than one family member living in Ethridge, and they all tried to name someone they knew and waited patiently while Peter either nodded or shook his head if he didn’t know the name.
Not even one of the students asked why he didn’t speak or about the scars on the backs of his hands or the side of his neck. Perhaps the teacher had already had a talk with her class about the merits of being kind to those who are different.
When it came time for lunch, Essie Zook took Peter by the hand and led him to a space on the playground just to the school side of the swing set. “Come on,” she urged. “I’ll share my lunch with you. Don’t tell Dat, but he always packs too much.” Then vivacious mother hen Essie spread out her lunch and proceeded to divvy it up between the two of them.
“Sweet, huh?” Amanda sidled up beside him and took a drink from her water cup. “Essie’s a good girl. A little on the mischievous side, but she would be a good help bringing Peter out.”
He had been thinking the same thing. “Good. Good.”
The children started gathering up their lunch mess, washing their hands, and lining up to use the outhouse.
“Danki for your time,” Jamie said. He let Essie work with Peter, showing him the order of things. He seemed to take to the girl, and Jamie was fine with that. She had shown him where to wash his hands and found him a place in the boys’ line. Now Jamie was waiting for him to finish his business so they could leave. He had seen all he needed to. The school was more than adequate, the teacher kind and caring. Now all he had to do was convince himself that Peter would be all right here.
Oh, he knew it in his mind, but his heart was a different story. He had gone through so much to bring Peter here that he was terrified he was going to blow it for them both. And with his time to bring Peter out of his shell coming to an end . . . well, he needed to do something and he needed to do it quickly. “Once Peter’s had his turn, we’ll be out of your way.”
“I have an idea,” Amanda said as she stood at the door. “Why don’t you leave Peter here. He can finish out the school day, and that way tomorrow won’t be so difficult for him. Day one will be day two.” She smiled. She really was trying to be helpful, so why did he feel like he’d been kicked in the gut by a stubborn mule? It was about the same feeling he got whenever he was around Leah Gingerich.
Amanda nodded encouragingly.
“Jah,” he said, his voice rusty.
“Good,
good. Then we’ll see you at three.”
“I should tell him.” Jamie started toward Peter, still waiting in line.
Amanda stopped him with one hand on his arm. “Let me do it. It’ll be less emotional that way.”
Jamie swallowed hard. It might be the best way. Not make a big deal out of it. But he remembered all the times Peter had snuck into his room just to be close to another person. He didn’t want to set back any progress he had made in healing. “He lost his family in a fire—”
“I know,” she said gently. “He needs to learn to trust that you will come get him.”
That sounded logical. So why did it feel wrong in his heart? “Jah,” he heard himself saying. He made his way to his buggy, climbed in, and set his horse in motion. The children waved and called out farewells, but Peter must have been inside.
He’s going to be okay. But Jamie just wished he could believe it was true.
* * *
This was perhaps the dumbest thing he had ever done. Peter was at school. So why had he driven into town to Twice Blessed?
He parked his carriage around back and tethered his mare to the steel post planted in the packed earth. He could be out looking for a job, maybe over at the mill seeing if they needed any help. Handiwork was sporadic, and he needed a little something more to make sure he and the boy had everything they needed.
Yet here he was, standing in back of Leah’s store. Was he just trying to get mad today? But the last time he had seen Leah, she hadn’t upset him. She had been pretending to pick blackberries off bushes that had long ago stopped producing fruit. It had been a thin ploy for Leah and her sisters to spy on him and Gracie. Like anything was going to happen. Not that any of that had happened the other evening. He had just made his intentions known—not in so many words, but they needed to take this slow. As much as he wanted to rush in and get married, whoever he did marry would want a few of the niceties that came along with courting and marriage. Even if that someone was as practical as Gracie Glick.
He let himself in the back way Leah had set up for her Amish patrons, with its horse-friendly parking and a section filled with Amish clothing for trade.
He stopped, trailing his fingers down one of the shirtsleeves closest to him. Why had she done all this? Her store seemed to cater to Englisch and Mennonites more than Amish, and yet she made sure there was adequate and safe parking for horse and buggies and a free section in the back where any Amish who needed clothes could come and get something. And the most interesting part of all was that the Amish didn’t even have to set foot in the main store.
He looked around. It was a good space, and it would be profitable if she filled it with actual goods for sale. Yet she hadn’t. Why?
He shook his head and continued on into the store. He would never understand her, and he should stop trying.
“Jamie?” She blinked once when she caught sight of him, as if she were testing her vision.
“Hey.” Not the most eloquent of greetings, but he was still trying to figure out why he was here. He didn’t even like Leah. But she was the most plainspoken person he knew.
“Where’s Peter?”
“That’s why I’m here. I left him at school.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You what?”
“I left him at school.”
“I heard that. I mean why?”
He shrugged, but the motion felt like it was made with someone else’s shoulders. “You said you thought the teacher was competent and could handle a child who didn’t talk. So I thought I would take the chance, and . . . I don’t know.” He blew out a heavy breath.
“When I came down here, from Tennessee,” he began, “I said it was to give us a fresh start.”
“Yes.” She nodded, the light in her green eyes understanding.
“That wasn’t exactly the truth.”
“Okay.”
“Sally’s parents wanted to take him. Sally is—was his mother. She was the oldest, and she has younger siblings. But I was afraid that Peter would get lost in the shuffle of the ten kids they still have living at home and the six grandkids who are over there almost every day.”
Leah whistled under her breath. “That’s a big family.”
Even bigger than most. “Jah. I told them that I could get him talking again and that I should have him.”
“And you brought him here.”
Jamie nodded. “I thought if he was away from all his familiar surroundings, that maybe he wouldn’t be reminded at every turn and maybe he could start to heal.”
She nodded. “I can see that. Or he might get so traumatized that he never speaks again.”
“Don’t say that.” Jamie raised his voice, drawing the attention of the patrons shopping in the kitchen section. He shot them an apologetic smile and tipped his hat. “Don’t say that,” he repeated so only Leah could hear.
“It’s entirely possible.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” He shook his head. “That boy is all I have left of my brother. You take care of Hannah’s son. You should know what I’m talking about. I have to keep him safe. I have to make sure he heals.”
Leah shook her head. “That’s admirable and all, but whether or not he speaks again isn’t entirely up to him and his healing. It’s up to God.”
“I know.”
“But you’re having a hard time accepting that.”
He caught her gaze, stared into her eyes. “And you never questioned what God has planned for you?”
She looked away. “I didn’t say that. Only that we accept it if it’s what we want it to be.”
He shook his head. “There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“Do you think I would be here talking to you if I knew?”
“You suppose I have the answer?”
“You don’t?” He raised his voice, once again drawing the attention of the shoppers. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
A frown pulled at her forehead. “You want to talk to me? I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
“I never said that.” But he felt the heat rising in his neck and up to his face.
“You didn’t have to.”
He cleared his throat. “I may not always agree with you, but you seem smart. Like maybe you would have a few answers the rest of us can’t see.”
“As flattered as I am, I have to wait until Brandon gets back from his lessons before I can go anywhere.”
Was it part of God’s plan that Brandon took the next moment to stroll through the front door of the shop?
“He’s here.” Jamie turned back to Leah. “Now you don’t have an excuse.”
She took off the tan apron she had been wearing over her clothes and hung it on a hook behind the cash register. There was a picture of a dove on the bib. He supposed it was sort of comforting, but he couldn’t say for sure. Except that Leah looked all kinds of cute wearing it over her Mennonite clothes.
“Brandon, I’m going out,” Leah said without preamble.
Brandon’s gaze darted from Leah to Jamie and back again. “O-kay,” he said. He took his own tan-colored apron off the peg next to hers. He slipped it over his head and tied it at the back. “Got anything that needs done around here?”
“You can sweep if you get bored, and if you are really desperate, you can restock the glass shelves. A lady came in today and took all that we had left out front.”
“Got it, boss.” He shot her a cheeky grin. “I’ll keep things running while you go on your date.”
“It’s not a date.” Leah and Jamie spoke at the same time.
“Yeah, okay.” Brandon nodded. “Rendezvous, then.”
Leah pressed a hand to her forehead. “That’s even worse.”
“Tête-à-tête?”
“You’re not helping.” Leah slung her purse over her shoulder and glanced back at her too-smart helper. “We’re just going to the café at the end of the block, if you need anything.”
Brandon grinned, a lo
ok that said he was entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m sure everything will be just fine.”
Leah couldn’t resist an eye roll as she stepped out into the warm, pre-fall sun.
“Down here, you say?” Jamie asked. He nodded toward the small café that took up the corner spot of the building. There were picnic tables on the far side where patrons could sit outside, but even on a day like today, when fall was approaching, the temperature was still too warm for sitting in the sun.
“You want to sit out here?” he asked.
Leah shook her head. “Do you mind if we go inside? I tend to sunburn easily, and I didn’t bring a hat.”
“Jah, sure.” He held open the door for her to enter.
Like everything else in Pontotoc, the café was quaint, small, and unpretentious. Though Leah couldn’t help but notice the looks that she and Jamie got as they ordered a couple of drinks and took them to the nearest table.
“What happens if it’s part of God’s will, and Peter doesn’t speak again? What then?” Leah asked once they were seated.
“I don’t know.” Jamie punched down his ice with the end of his straw, then took a cautious sip. “Their tea is good,” he said. “My mamm used to make us tea when we were growing up. It tastes like hers.”
Leah took a sip and nodded. “Really good. And how do your parents fit into all this?”
“They don’t. They passed away when we were just out of school.”
Which explained a lot, as far as Leah was concerned. “I’m sorry.”
“God’s will, right?”
“Wait. You can accept God’s will when it happens to you, but not when it involves someone you love?”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.” Well, practically.
“I guess it’s easier for me to accept God’s will for myself, but not when it affects others.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“I know.” He took another drink. “What about you?”
She drew back a bit. “What about me?”
“Is it God’s will that you open this store? Or is it just something you wanted to do?”
She smiled. “I like to think God had a hand in it.”
“Why?” he asked.