by Amy Lillard
Did she really want to get into this with him? Some things were better left unsaid. “I felt it was time to come home.” It was the truth. Just not all of it.
He tilted his head to one side and studied her. His blue eyes were intense, as if looking for secrets she didn’t want to reveal. Or was she just being fearful? “Why now?”
“Why not now?” She let out a nervous laugh. This caring and concerned Jamie wasn’t as comfortable to be around. She was better when she knew they were adversaries. Or at the very least on opposite sides of the issue.
“You’re not joining the church like your sister. So why now?”
“Well, you know.” She shrugged.
“You don’t want to tell me.” He nodded. “I see.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that.” But it was exactly like that. “It’s just hard for me to talk about.”
“It’s fine.”
“No,” she said. “It’s not.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to come back for a long time, but . . .”
“But?” he prompted.
“I never had the courage. I mean, I can’t come back. You know.”
“Sorry. I don’t.”
“I can’t join the church and become Amish again.” They were words she had never said to another.
“Why not? Your sister is.”
“It’s different for her.”
“I don’t see how.” He frowned, concern and lack of understanding etching lines in his features.
“I found my place. My church.” It was the best explanation she had. The safest.
“You can switch churches. And I know the bishop would welcome you back.”
She shook her head. “I wish it were that simple.”
He smiled, and once again she noticed how handsome he was. He should smile more often for sure. “Seems to me that you’re the one making it complicated.”
“About Peter.”
“Subject change. I understand. Peter,” he said. “He means everything to me.”
“Then you should do everything you can to help him.”
“I am. I will.”
She twisted her glass from side to side, widening the circle of condensation beneath it. “There’s this man . . . in our church. He’s a doctor.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Peter.”
“Yes, Jamie, there is. Nothing that’s his fault.” She did her best to make her words understanding and kind. She adored Peter, and she only wanted the best for him.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
All in. She had come this far. “This doctor works with suppressed memories and trauma cases like Peter’s. I think he would be able to help him.”
Jamie was so still for so long that Leah felt for a moment that they had somehow been suspended in time. “A head doctor?”
“A therapist, yes.”
“Peter doesn’t need that kind of help.” His voice was low and menacing. “He needs God and prayers.”
She reached toward him, but he had already pushed himself up from his seat. “Danki, Leah Gingerich. Thank you for distracting me with your cockamamy ideas about right and wrong. It kept me from constantly worrying about Peter. But now it’s time I go.”
“Jamie.”
But he spun on one heel and stalked out the door.
Leah looked at his empty seat. So much for a “new Jamie.” He was the same through and through. Too conservative. Too rigid. Too . . . Amish.
Chapter Six
The trip back to the school took entirely too long. Jamie was left with too much time to stew over what Leah had said. He wanted to hate her for it. But even if he hadn’t been raised to hate no one, he wouldn’t have been able to. Deep down, a part of him wanted her to be right. He needed an answer to the problems Peter faced, but was he so desperate for a solution that he was willing to sacrifice his beliefs to gain it?
No. He had to trust God. He had to pray harder, pray more, pray truly without ceasing.
Most of the children had already left the schoolhouse when Jamie pulled his buggy to a stop.
“See,” Amanda said, pointing at him. “I told you he would be back.”
The smile on Peter’s face stretched clear across. One hand held his hat in place as he loped across the packed dirt drive and hoisted himself onto the side of the buggy. Little arms came through the window and hugged Jamie close.
“Did you miss me?” Jamie chuckled, his anger with Leah melting away.
If it was at all possible, Peter’s grin grew even wider. He nodded enthusiastically, his hat falling from his head.
“You ready to go home?”
Peter jumped down, still nodding as he snatched up his hat and slapped it against one leg to knock the dust off.
“Tell Amanda goodbye,” Jamie instructed.
Peter turned and waved, then came around the buggy and hopped in the other side.
“Everything go okay?” Jamie asked.
Amanda gave him a pretty smile. “As close to perfect as possible.”
“Good. Good,” Jamie said.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, then?” she asked.
“Of course,” Jamie said.
“Bye, Peter.” Amanda gave them a small wave.
Jamie flicked the reins and started his mare into motion once more. He chanced a look at Peter as they rocked along. He seemed happy enough. Maybe even content. He had good times and bad times. Times when he seemed to miss his family more than others. He had nightmares and still wanted to sleep as close to Jamie as possible, but given the circumstances of his family’s deaths, it was no wonder.
“We’re all right, aren’t we, boy?”
Peter nodded, flashing another of his all-encompassing smiles.
“Jah,” Jamie said. Leah could make all the crazy assumptions she could think of, but he and Peter had an understanding. Peter would talk again. And soon. Jamie had to believe it was true. It couldn’t be any other way.
* * *
A loud commotion outside had Jamie on his feet in a heartbeat. It was not quite seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Who could be making all that noise? Their cabin was far enough away from the Gingerich houses that the sound of their morning chores had never been an issue. What was happening outside was loud . . . and close.
He checked the front window, but all he could see was a lumber truck. Maybe the driver had gotten turned around. It was easy to do out here, especially on the back roads, where there were few markers.
“Finish your breakfast,” he told Peter.
The boy nodded and went back to work on his scrambled eggs, the one thing Jamie could make edible every time.
Jamie stepped out onto the porch and wished he had taken the time to have a more thorough look out the window. It would have given him an advantage to know what was happening before he was standing in front of everybody just staring in disbelief.
So many people stood in his front yard. There had to be at least ten men with hammers and determined expressions.
And in the middle of it all was Leah Gingerich.
“Just set the wood down over there,” she told the driver.
No one was lost. No one had gotten turned around. But there had to be some mistake. He hadn’t ordered any lumber, and he surely hadn’t asked for ten men to come with it. He recognized the Gingeriches and Aaron Zook, but everyone else’s face was a mystery. He must have seen them at church last Sunday, but he couldn’t recall their names a week later.
“What’s going on here?” he asked. He looked from one man to another. Finally Jim Gingerich stepped forward. “You know about barn raisings?”
Jamie nodded.
“Well, this is a room raising.”
“What’s that?”
“A room raising.” Leah had finished bossing around the truck driver and had come to stand by her oldest brother. “We’re here to build a second bedroom onto the cabin.”
“But I didn’t—”
Jim smiled. “That�
��s okay, because Leah did.”
“You?” He turned his attention to the beautiful woman who had been a thorn in his side since the day he had met her. “You did all this?”
“Uh . . . yeah. I mean. It was nothing. Amish help one another.”
“You’re not Amish.”
She shrugged. “I may have left the Amish, but that doesn’t mean I’m not Amish at heart.”
He frowned. “Is that what this is all about?” Around them the men started to get to work, staking out the spot where the new room would go. “Pretending to be Amish?”
“I’m not pretending to be anything.”
“I see.”
“I don’t believe you do. I wanted to help you, so I put up a sign in the shop. You walked by it yesterday.”
“And asked your brothers to help.”
“Why is it that you have such trouble accepting any sort of help from me when I know that this cabin was given to you?”
“That’s different.” His tone had started to rise, and a few of the men had turned to see what was going on between them. He lowered his voice.
“It is certainly not any different at all.” She tapped one foot on the ground, sending up little puffs of orange dust. “In fact, I’m beginning to think someone forgot to teach you manners. When a person helps you, you’re supposed to say danki. I say you’re welcome, then when somebody else needs help, you can lend a hand. That’s how it works.”
“Danki.” He pushed the word through clenched teeth.
“You’re welcome. See? That wasn’t so hard. You’ll thank me later.”
“I already did.” He turned on his heel and headed back to the house, her words still ringing in his ears. Why was it so hard for him to accept help from her? It just was.
* * *
It was the middle of the afternoon before Jamie could talk to Leah again. He had tried and tried, but he had no final answer to his question except that it was. Something about her set his teeth on edge. He supposed it was because she had turned her back on everything he held dear. She walked away from the Amish when things got tough. She might have only gone to the Mennonites, but as far as he was concerned, she had abandoned her heritage. Not everyone was lucky enough to be born Amish.
“I apologize for this morning,” he said. He tried to sound polite, but his voice held a gruff edge. He caught her in the front yard. The rest of the men were in the back, taking a little break under the branches of the large pine there.
“I only wanted to help. I thought maybe if Peter had his own room . . . you know, a space to keep his clothes and his toys, that maybe . . .”
She had been thinking of Peter. Now he really felt like a heel. “Thank you,” he said. This time he really meant it.
“I found a few things for him. A couple of shirts, a picture of a horse, and a wooden tractor.”
And just like that, the easy feeling was gone. “Why would you get him a tractor?”
“So he can play with it.” A frown settled itself between her brows.
“He can’t play with a tractor. It’s against the Ordnung.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Really? Don’t you think the bishop has more important things to worry about than a six-year-old playing with a wooden toy? It doesn’t have rubber tires. Like it matters. It’s a toy.”
“It’s not part of our culture.”
“UFOs are not part of the Englisch culture, and yet children play with spacecrafts.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“It does to me.”
“Of course it does.”
“What is wrong with you?” she asked. “Why are you so determined to follow every rule down to the last comma?”
“It’s what we’re supposed to do. It’s what God wants from us.”
“And not allowing a child to play with a wheeled toy is that important to God? I don’t think so.”
When she put it like that, he started to have his own doubts. He straightened his spine and cleared his throat. He wasn’t going to let the questions ruin his faith. He had to have faith. It and Peter were all he had left. “No tractor,” he said and stalked back toward the house.
* * *
“What is it with the two of you?”
Leah whirled around as Gracie came up from the main house. “Hey, cousin.”
Gracie stopped next to her, waiting for an answer.
“Just two different people, I guess.” And for some reason their “different” couldn’t exist in the same space. Once they got near each other, it seemed they always found uncommon ground.
“Eunice wanted me to bring over some cookies,” Gracie said. “She thought the men could use a break.”
Leah nodded toward the back of the house. “They just took a rest, but you know men and food.”
“Danki.” Gracie gave her another smile and headed around back.
Suddenly Leah had the feeling that her mamm had nothing to do with Gracie’s decision to bring a snack to the workers. One worker in particular: Jamie Stoltzfus.
She eased around back, careful not to draw attention to herself. Gracie went around to all the men, offering them cookies from the plastic container. But every so often she would look up at Jamie as if she needed to know where he was at all times. Which was ridiculous. Unless she really was serious about courting him. And he really was serious about courting her.
Courting usually led to marriage, and Leah had just made it easier for him. She had arranged for Peter to have his own room. Now Jamie would have privacy, and when he got married . . .
She shook her head. That was a long time off. If ever. And surely not, if she could do something about it. Jamie was all wrong for Gracie. And Gracie was all wrong for him. Why couldn’t they see that?
Maybe it was just an experiment.
Gracie moved away from the other men and approached Jamie. She cast her eyes down, then glanced up at him as if he were the center of the universe. She held the cookie container toward him, took a step closer, and smiled. Flirting with food.
It was sad, really. And someone had to do something about it.
Leah marched over to where they stood, all but wedging herself between them.
“Can I get one of those cookies?” she asked brightly. “I may not be wielding a hammer, but planning can sure take it out of a girl.” She snatched a cookie from the bowl and shoved it into her mouth.
“You did plan all this, didn’t you?” Gracie smiled, then turned her attention back to Jamie. “Hannah told me that she invited you to our get-together tonight. Please tell me you’re coming.”
Leah worked on chewing up the rest of the cookie as Jamie cast a quick glance her way. His attention flickered over her, then returned to Gracie. “I had thought I would. But I’ll have to ask Eunice if she can watch Peter tonight.”
“Oh, Leah will watch him. Won’t you, Leah?”
And how could she say no? She had an entire cookie in her mouth.
“Of course,” she mumbled around the rest of the cookie. She waited for Jamie to protest, to tell her that he didn’t want her liberal influence to adversely affect Peter, but he didn’t.
“Great.” Gracie beamed another smile at Jamie. “I guess I should be going. Lots to do before tonight.” She handed the container of cookies off to Leah, then waggled her fingers in an uncharacteristic wave. “See you then.”
“Jah,” Jamie said with a wave of his own.
Leah expelled a heavy sigh. “You have got to be kidding me,” she grumbled. Was she the only one around here who hadn’t lost her mind?
“What?” he asked.
“I’ll be right back.” She thrust the container of cookies at him, then hurried after her cousin.
She caught up with her at the bottom of the hill. Actually, she allowed Gracie to get far enough ahead that when Leah stopped her they would be midway between the two houses. No one needed to hear what Leah had to say.
“Gracie.”
Her cousin
whirled around with a hand pressed to her chest. “Leah! You scared me.”
“Sorry. I just . . .” She just what? Wanted to talk to her for a minute? Wanted to tell her what a bad idea it was that she court Jamie? “Are you really going tonight?”
“Jah, of course. Tonight we’re playing games at Aaron’s house. That’s always fun.”
Leah frowned. “Going to Aaron’s?”
“Playing games.” Her eyes grew bright. “Maybe we’ll break up into couples teams, and Jamie and I can be partners.”
Leah winced. “About that . . .”
“What?”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to see Jamie? I mean, you hardly know him.”
“That’s why I’m seeing him, isn’t it? To get to know each other better?”
“What happens if you get to know him, and you decide you don’t like him?”
Gracie laughed. “What’s not to like? He’s handsome, and he cares about others. How many men would take their brother’s child to raise?”
Leah thought of the conversation she and Jamie had had the day before. How he needed for Peter to start talking again, and why. “That’s just it,” she said. “Do really want to start off a marriage with a child?”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. We haven’t even been on a real date yet.”
Thank goodness for that. “But it would be a challenge. You wouldn’t have any time at all to get used to being married.”
“Lots of women get pregnant on their wedding night.”
“Yes, and they have nine months at least to spend with their husbands before the baby arrives. I’m talking about from day one.”
Gracie blinked as the truth sank in. Then she waved a hand as if dismissing Leah’s words. “No matter. I’m going to be twenty-six next year. All my friends are married. All the members of our group are married. This may be my only chance. All my life—” She shook her head. “I’ve always been invisible,” she finally said. “And I didn’t mind it so much. Maybe that was just what God wanted for me. But now God is giving me a chance to change things. Don’t get me wrong. I love helping everyone. I always have. But this is a chance at a family of my own. How can I pass that up?”
“For love.”
“What?”
“For love,” Leah said, louder this time. “Don’t you think you should have love?”