by Amy Lillard
Jamie pulled his buggy close to the house. The sun was almost down, and the shadows had already started creeping across the land.
“Thank you for bringing me home.” She had started to climb down when Jamie stopped her.
“Don’t,” he said. “Just sit with me for a minute more.”
“It’s about dark. You’re not going to have any light to get up to your house.”
“Let me worry about that.”
Why did he want to sit with her? She felt that she was in dangerous territory. Too much could happen on an Indian summer evening as the sun disappeared. “I need to go in.” Her voice was near breathless, as if she had been running a great distance.
“I want to kiss you,” he admitted.
Her heart soared, then immediately fell. “That’s not a good idea.”
“It sounds like a great idea to me.”
“Jamie—” But she had no way to finish that sentence. She wanted to kiss him, but she knew how useless it was. How damaging. It would only make things harder for them in the future. “We’ve already talked about this.”
“You don’t want to kiss me?”
She shook her head. How were they even having this conversation? “Wanting to has nothing to do with this.”
“So you do want to kiss me.”
“Jamie, please.” But she couldn’t continue. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
“You know, I could say the same thing about you.”
“Me?”
“Why are you fighting this so hard?”
“Why am I . . . Jamie, anything we could have between us will not be able to last.”
“Only if you keep looking at it like it’s impossible.”
“It is impossible.” She was beginning to regret inviting him to the rock painting event next week. He was reading more into it than could ever be.
“See? There you go again.”
“Mennonite. Amish.” She pointed toward herself, then him.
“I think we both already know that.”
“Amish and Mennonite don’t date.” Shouldn’t fall in love; couldn’t get married.
“Says who?”
“Says the Ordn—” This was getting them nowhere. “Forget it.” She pulled away and climbed down from the carriage. “I will not kiss you. Not now. Not in the future.”
She stalked toward her car, not turning around as he spoke one last time.
“So it’s a maybe, then?”
* * *
Jamie watched as Leah flounced toward her car as if her walk alone would prove her point.
He bit back a chuckle as she scrambled with the door, finally managing to get it open. She hopped inside as if it offered protection from all worries and concerns.
Maybe this hadn’t been the best way to woo her, but he was running out of ideas where she was concerned. She was smart and savvy, different from any other woman he had met.
He flicked the reins and started his horse in motion once again. He still had to get home, brush down the horse, and thank Libby Gingerich for sitting with Peter tonight. Peter had taken best to Leah, but right after her was Jim and Anna’s oldest, and the last couple of weeks she had become his go-to sitter when he needed to go out. He hated leaving the boy, but since he was out doing his best to find the child a mother, he pushed his guilt aside and went about his business.
Except Leah was proving to be harder to crack than he had ever imagined. Still, she had invited him out on Tuesday. That had to mean something.
Rock painting didn’t sound particularly exciting, but spending time with her and Peter . . . well, he couldn’t find anything wrong with that plan.
* * *
Peter snuggled a little closer into Jamie’s side and laid his head on his shoulder. Jamie gently nudged him, doing his best to stir him awake without letting anyone around them know that Peter was about to fall asleep sitting there.
Like he would be the only one to fall asleep in church. Les Byler usually fell asleep sometime after the first prayer and softly snored until the last one was given. Of course, Les was older than dirt and had served the church his entire ninety-plus years. Jamie might be new to Pontotoc, but he knew people in Ethridge who knew Les, and everyone said the same thing. The man might fall asleep sitting up on his bench, but he knew more about the Bible than the minister, the bishop, and both preachers rolled into one.
Peter’s head softly collided with his shoulder once again. Jamie gently roused the boy. He understood. He remembered nodding off from time to time in church himself. But he’d had Joseph there to nudge him in the ribs, sometimes not-so-gently, to keep him awake. Jamie missed his brother so much. Not that Jamie had had enough time to grieve. He’d barely gotten the news before he had to make the arrangements for the funeral. After that, he’d been involved in trying to do what was best for his nephew. Then moving. And...
Jamie closed his eyes as the truth washed over him. He hadn’t had time at all to grieve for his brother. He hadn’t had time to make his peace. Maybe that was something he needed to correct, and soon. Maybe it was time for him and Peter to travel back to Ethridge and visit the graves of Joseph, Sally, and Ellie Stoltzfus. He and Peter both could use a little more closure before starting this second new phase in their lives.
Jamie opened his eyes and did his best to focus on what the minister was saying. Strawberry Dan Swartzentruber was about the driest man he had ever heard speak. But Jamie tried to be fair. Strawberry Dan took his time when speaking, drawing out each word and making it hard to follow along at times.
He was a lot like Johnny Zook, back in his home district. Jamie knew that Johnny had been terrified to take his appointment as preacher. He wasn’t big on getting up in front of a crowd. But since the church elders were chosen by God, they had to trust that the Lord knew what He was doing. Though Jamie supposed there was one in every district—one preacher who bored everyone to tears.
And his sleepiness had nothing to do with Leah Gingerich. He hadn’t lain awake half the night wondering how he was going to convince her that they should be together. Or so he kept telling himself.
He roused himself out of his own thoughts and centered his attention back on Strawberry Dan. It wasn’t the message. That was engaging. But there was something about the drone of his voice that had Jamie biting back a yawn.
He squinted and blinked, doing his best to shake off the tired feeling. He couldn’t make Peter stay awake if he himself was nodding off.
Jamie allowed his gaze to roam over the room, thinking the change of focus might help. Instead, his look collided with Deborah’s.
She smiled at him. Had she been sitting there all morning just waiting for him to look at her? Surely not. And he should never be so arrogant to think that she had been. But it wasn’t a far jump from her hanging around Pontotoc and refusing to go back to Tennessee until he agreed that they were meant to be together. He had one woman he couldn’t convince to give him a chance and another who wouldn’t leave him alone.
He peeled his gaze away from Deborah, but he could feel her stare on him. Eyes back front, he feigned fascination in the sermon.
How many times had he looked across a congregation to seek out Deborah? So many he couldn’t count. But that was before she had shown him her true spirit, before his brother’s death, and before Peter had become the most important thing to him.
What he wouldn’t give to have Leah be on the other side of the congregation, smiling, waiting for him to meet her after church. Leah. Not Deborah. But according to Leah, that would never happen.
A few rows in front of Deborah, Jamie could make out Eunice, Gracie, and Hannah. The ladies sat close together, shoulders almost brushing as they listened to the words Strawberry Dan was saying. In such a short time, that family had come to mean so much to him. They had befriended him, helped him, and they continued to do so each and every day. He knew that God had sent him to them to help guide him, and he made sure he said his prayers of thanks every day.
He managed to keep his mind on the message for the rest of the sermon. In no time at all he was standing in the yard in the sweet October sunshine.
“Glad to see you today.” Deborah sidled up alongside him, smiling as she did so.
“Where else would I be?”
She shrugged, a delicate motion that looked as if she changed her mind about it midway through. “I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Why are you still here?” he asked. He looked over her head toward the field where the children had started to play. They hadn’t even eaten yet, and already a ball game had begun. Peter sat off to one side, under the shade of a large tree, plucking grass and tossing it aside. He was with the other children, in the same vicinity, but not a part of them. That was what Jamie had worried about when he sent Peter to school. The boy might be able to sit at a desk and do the work, but he wasn’t a part of the group. And he might not ever be. The thought made Jamie’s stomach hurt. He wanted so much more for him.
“Jamie.” Deborah snapped her fingers just under his nose, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Fine,” he managed, yet he felt anything but. This time last year his life had been completely in order. Now . . . it seemed to be in total chaos. Too much was happening too quickly.
“You’re stressed,” Deborah said.
He made a noise somewhere between agreement and denial.
“You should come back to Ethridge. Where you belong.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing for me there.”
“What are you talking about? Your entire life is there.”
“It was.” Once upon a time, her words had been true. His life had been in Ethridge. His brother, his brother’s family, his sister, all his friends, Deborah. But with Joseph’s death, all that changed, and the longer he stayed in Pontotoc, the more it became home. Eunice, Gracie, Hannah, and the rest of the Gingeriches had been more than kind to him. They had been like family. “But I belong here now.”
She made a disbelieving noise. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
Just then there was the call to prayer. Jamie bowed his head and thanked God for all the many blessings he had received, as well as the ones he didn’t deserve that he knew would come regardless. God was good.
* * *
“Where did you get this?” Mamm’s hand shook as she held the envelope as if it might contain something that would explode.
“It was in the mailbox,” Brandon explained.
Mamm turned it this way and that, examining it from every angle. “But it’s Sunday.”
“I figure someone found it in their stack of mail and stuck it in the mailbox as they drove by on their way to church.” It made perfect sense to Leah.
“Are you going to open it?” Gracie asked.
They were all seated around the table in the dining area. Even Dat had come in from the barn to hear what Tillie had written. It was the first time anyone had heard from her since she left, and the prospect of what it might contain made Leah’s mouth dry.
She could only hope and pray that everything was fine with Tillie and Melvin. Hope and pray and pray and hope.
“Eunice.” Dat’s voice was low.
“Jah.” Mamm sucked in a deep breath. “Right.” Hands still trembling, she tore open the envelope.
“Dear family,” she read. “I know it’s been a long time since we left, but it’s been really busy trying to get everything set up. Melvin got a job at a garage (where they work on all sorts of cars). He was thrilled. He thought it would be harder to find a job. He was so excited when he came home his first day.
Anyway, I didn’t want you to worry. We are fine and safe. We’re working, and we have a place to stay.
I love you always,
Tillie.”
Mamm sighed. She held the letter up and read it again, this time to herself.
“Mamm,” Leah said. “Mamm.”
Her mother dropped the letter from in front of her face. The sheen of tears in her eyes almost did Leah in.
“She’s fine. She said as much,” Hannah reminded her.
“They’re working. That’s good,” Gracie added.
The chair legs scraped loudly against the wooden floor as Dat abruptly stood. The chair wobbled, then fell backward as he stomped from the house.
“Abner,” Mamm called, but her voice was weak, as if reading Tillie’s letter had taken all that she had.
The front door slammed, and Mamm wilted in her chair.
“I’ll go . . .” Jim stood, followed by David and soon the Gingerich women were the only ones around the table.
“He doesn’t understand how she can leave everything behind.” Mamm shook her head. “It about killed him when the two of you left, but at least you had each other. Tillie has no one.”
“Melvin is with her,” Gracie reminded.
“He doesn’t count. He’s the reason she left in the first place. If he hadn’t wanted to work on engines and whatnot, then she would still be here today.”
You don’t know that, Leah wanted to say, but she refrained. Mamm wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason. Her heart was breaking. She was grateful that she had heard from her daughter, but sad that the news was not about her return.
Leah reached across the table and caught her mamm’s hands in her own. “Tillie made her choice, and hopefully she’ll realize how wrong it is and return. But until then, you can’t make yourself sick thinking this was something you could have prevented.”
“She’s right, Mamm,” Hannah said.
Gracie merely nodded.
“But we had all of you here for a time. All three together.” Mamm sniffed, but the tears stayed hidden.
“And you will again,” Gracie said. “I just know it.”
Leah couldn’t protest against her prediction. She needed her mother to gain back her faith and trust. But the truth of the matter was that Leah would never be a whole part of the community again.
A knock sounded on the front door. Mamm started as if she’d been goosed, then she looked to the wall clock hanging over the sideboard. “That must be Jamie.” She used the tail of her apron to wipe her eyes. “I invited him and Peter to come to supper, but that was before . . .”
She stood, turned around as if she was uncertain where to go, then started for the kitchen. “Somebody get that. I’ve got to see about supper.”
* * *
Jamie raised his hand to knock once again, but the door was opened before he could finish his intent.
Leah stood on the other side, looking even better than she had in his church daydream.
“Hi,” he said with a happy little grin. He had known that she would be here when Eunice invited him, but it was an added bonus that she opened the door for him.
She smiled in return, but he noticed that it didn’t quite make it past her lips.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She stepped to one side to allow him and Peter to enter. “We got a letter from Tillie. Mamm’s a little upset.”
“There wasn’t bad news, I hope.”
“Not if you don’t count that she’s not coming home anytime soon.”
He nodded a bit grimly. “Maybe we should go home.” He started to herd Peter back to the door.
But Leah shook her head. “Y’all being here will be good for her.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure?” He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with Leah. All of it and more.
“Positive.” She smiled, and this one was more like he was used to. “Come on in the dining room. We were just talking.”
Jamie followed behind Leah, with Peter trailing after.
“Peter? Would you like to write your letters?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“Read a book?”
He nodded.
“Go on in the living room, and I’ll bring you something to read.”<
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“You have books for him?” Jamie couldn’t stop the question.
“Of course. I found them for the shop, then brought them home, thinking Peter might need something to do here.”
His heart became a little more hers. “Thank you,” he said. “That means a lot.”
Leah shrugged, as if she took such care with everyone she encountered in a day. “Just trying to help.”
There was that smile again, and he wanted to swoop in and kiss her, taste that curve of her lips. But he didn’t. He followed her into the dining room, then sat as she took books in for Peter.
“How’s she doing?” Jamie asked after he greeted Hannah and Gracie. He sat opposite them at the table, a small spark of hope flaring inside him that when Leah returned to the dining room she would take the chair next to him.
“Tillie?” Gracie asked. “She’s fine, I guess. It’s hard to tell from her letter.”
“Speaking from experience,” Hannah started, “it’s hard to write home. She doesn’t want to worry us, but she wants us to know that she’s safe.”
“How can we not be worried? She’s out among the Englisch.”
Jamie hadn’t realized how close Tillie and Gracie were until that moment. The age difference between them was greater when compared to the one between Gracie and Leah and Hannah, but Leah and Hannah had been gone most of Tillie’s life. And as far as he knew, Gracie had been living with the Gingeriches almost that long. They were more like sisters than cousins.
Leah floated in from the kitchen. Jamie supposed that she had gone from giving Peter books to checking on Eunice. That was just the kind of person she was.
“Is she okay in there?” Hannah asked.
“She will be,” Leah replied.
Gracie pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I should go help.” And just like that, she was gone.
Hannah looked from one of them to the other. “This is fun.” She rose from her seat. “I’m not going to make excuses. I’m leaving so the two of you can be alone.”