by Amy Lillard
And she was gone before Leah could utter even one protest.
Leah looked at her hands, then up to meet his gaze.
Jamie drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Danki for getting the books for Peter.”
She nodded. “You already said that.”
“I did?” Why had everything turned so awkward? He shook his head again and started to stand. “Maybe we should go.”
“No,” Leah said. “Please stay. I think Mamm needs this right now.”
“What? More people to feed?”
“Normalcy.”
Jamie eased back into his chair. “She misses Tillie a lot, jah?”
“Jah.” Leah gave him a small smile. “Dat does too. He just shows it differently.”
Jamie glanced around. “Where is Abner?”
“In the barn working on something or another.”
“On Sunday?” He frowned.
“I’m not sure whatever he’s working on can be called actual work. Think of it more as therapy. That swing on the back porch?”
“Jah?”
“He made that when Hannah and I left. Mamm told me about it years later. It took him months to craft it. He worked on it between projects and every chance he got. She said it was as if he couldn’t bear to be still. That if he was, too many memories and thoughts haunted him, so he chased them away by building.”
“And what the bishop doesn’t know won’t hurt him?” Jamie supplied.
“Exactly.” Leah smiled. “And Mamm needs to cook. Well, she cooks all the time anyway. When she’s happy, when someone is hurting. Special holidays. She shows her love and her sadness through food.”
“Which means she’s in there cooking enough for half the district to eat.”
“You’ll stay?” Leah asked.
How could he refuse? The Gingeriches had been like family; more than family. Of course, it didn’t hurt that there was food involved. Food that he didn’t have to cook himself. “It’s the least I can do.”
* * *
The supper dishes were drying in the drainer and the sun was dropping in the sky as Leah and Jamie settled down on the porch swing out front.
Brandon had taken Peter into the barn to check the puppies again before they headed back to town. Brandon had become such a help to Leah, she wasn’t sure what she would have done without him. Oh, everyone says a person makes it with what they have, but she knew how valuable Brandon truly was to her. And he was good with Peter too. Brandon had come such a long way since the beginning of the summer. Leah couldn’t have been prouder, and she knew Hannah felt the same. Aaron too. They may not have been able to raise their son together, but they were still getting a second chance—just as he was.
“You haven’t changed your mind about rock painting tomorrow, have you?” she asked.
Jamie eased into the swing next to her. “Are you taking back your invitation?”
“No. Of course not. It’s just . . . well, I want you to be sure about what you’re getting into.”
“We’re painting rocks. How hard can that be?”
“It’s not the painting that’s the problem. You and Peter will be the only Amish there.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
She shook her head. “Everyone is welcome in our church. I just wanted to make sure you understood.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to talk me out of coming altogether?”
“I’m not. I just—”
He held one finger to his lips. “You are.” His normally unclouded disposition evaporated like a puddle in the sun. “Will it embarrass you if Peter and I go? I’ve already told him about it, but I’m sure he’ll understand if I explain it to him. Even though I’m not sure exactly what it is.”
“No.” Leah had to raise her voice to be heard over Jamie’s musings. “I’m not embarrassed. I just didn’t want you to feel like you’ve been put on the spot.”
“I won’t feel that way at all,” he assured her.
“And if they start asking you questions?”
“Is that what this is about?”
She felt the heat rise into her cheeks. She hadn’t meant it to come out like that. “I just know how people can be. They’re going to want to know all about you and Peter and how you know me and my family.”
“Then I’ll tell them.”
“And why we’re there together.”
“Now I understand.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t what I meant. I don’t know what to tell people.” And even more importantly, she wasn’t sure what she could say that would keep Jamie from reading too much into the evening. They were friends, and that was all they could ever be. And she wanted that friendship. For as long as she could possibly have it.
“Tell them the truth,” he said simply.
“What is the truth?”
“That I’m crazy about you, and I want you to join the Amish church.”
She shouldn’t have asked. It was one thing to know it, and quite another to hear him say it out loud. Part of her rejoiced that he cared about her, but that joy quickly faded as reality set in. “That’s never going to happen, Jamie. I’m never going to join the church.” Too much time had passed. Too much stood in her way. Couldn’t he see that?
It had been so difficult since she had been back. She had been flooded with memories, bombarded with nostalgia, and filled with regret. But it didn’t change a thing.
He shrugged as if her words hadn’t affected him at all. “Tell them whatever you want, Leah. I don’t care.”
* * *
“What happened between you and Jamie tonight?” Brandon asked on the way home.
She shot him a quick look, then turned her attention back to the road ahead. Darkness had fallen, and it wouldn’t do to run into a dog or, even worse, a deer because she wasn’t watching where she was going.
“Did your mother put you up to asking that?”
“Of course not.” But the words were so animated that she knew he was not telling her the truth.
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously.”
“Whatever you say.”
“You don’t believe me? You don’t think I care about you and your love life?”
She almost choked, coughed a couple of times, then pulled herself together. “My what?”
“Your lo—”
“I heard you. There is no love life.”
“Only because you won’t accept what’s right there in front of you.”
She narrowed her gaze and shot him another look. “Did you learn that from your mother too?”
“Why do you think Mom put me up to this?”
“You forget we’re twins.”
He nodded slowly. “I think she’s right, you know.”
“About what?”
“Jamie. He seems so . . . perfect for you.”
Leah gave an unladylike snort. “Jamie? Me and Jamie? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What’s so insane about it? You two are made for each other.”
“Now, I know your mother put you up to that.”
He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Maybe. But I believe it too.”
At least this time she was prepared for his absurd claims. She merely shook her head. “Then you are both wrong. Jamie and I couldn’t be worse for each other. We have nothing in common. We don’t like the same things. We don’t even go to the same church.”
“Neither do me and Shelly.”
“I thought the two of you weren’t dating.”
He shrugged, but the darkness hid his expression. “We’re not. I just said that to make a point.”
“You have a point?” Leah asked.
“That you two are different but could be together if you were a couple, which you aren’t because you keep telling yourself that you have nothing to offer him.”
“Huh?” Leah stuttered.
“That you two—”
Leah held up a ha
nd to stop his words. “Don’t repeat it. The first time gave me a headache.”
“Because you know it’s true.”
She wasn’t about to argue with a fifteen-year-old. Or maybe a part of her knew she wasn’t going to win this one. “It’s not always that easy,” she finally said. “You can like someone who’s all wrong for you.”
“Jamie’s not all wrong though.”
“I know you think that, but you were raised Englisch. Church beliefs are a big deal among the Plain people. Even more so around here.”
“I guess so.” His tone turned petulant. “But I know one thing—if I found someone I loved, I wouldn’t let them go. Not for anything in the world.”
* * *
“Are you ready for this?” Leah asked the following evening when she stopped by to pick up Jamie and Peter.
Peter hopped into the back seat as if he had been doing it his entire life.
Jamie eased into the front seat and eyed her suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to talk me out of going?”
She shook her head and waited for everyone to buckle their seat belts before putting the car into gear. Peter didn’t have a problem with his belt, and she assumed because it hadn’t been that long since he had traveled from Ethridge and he remembered how to fasten it.
It might not have been long since he had ridden in a fast-moving vehicle, but the fascination of traveling fast hadn’t worn off. He twisted in his seat and peered out the window, his nose pressed against the glass as the world zoomed past.
“Are you?” Jamie asked again.
She wanted to play dumb and ask what he was talking about, but she didn’t. He wanted to know if she was trying to talk him out of going to this rock painting frolic at the church. She was and she wasn’t. She wanted him to go, but it worried her. It had seemed like a good enough idea when she had invited him. She would show him what her church was all about. She had attended an Amish church most of her life, right up until the time that she had left with Hannah. Jamie, on the other hand, had always attended Amish services and had never been to another sort of church. He didn’t understand the draw the Mennonites held for her. The peace, love, and understanding, without the hard constraints of the Amish church.
Not that she thought the Amish church was bad, or even detrimental. It simply was what it was. She moved out and moved on. She could see the benefits that he couldn’t in the more liberal ways. Just because they allowed electricity and cars didn’t mean that they were not doing God’s work. Because they had electricity and cars, they were better able to do His work in different places and on different levels. But how could she explain this to Jamie?
By showing him her church: the love, the peace, and the understanding.
And then what?
He would renounce his Amish ways and jump the fence with her?
If Peter’s grandparents wanted him back now, imagine what they would do if Jamie decided to join the Mennonite church. They would swoop in and snatch the boy away before Jamie even had time to kneel before the congregation. It was just that simple and just that complicated.
And she was making it worse by inviting him here. She should have left well enough alone. She shouldn’t have made this plan. It was a stupid plan and would do more harm than good.
If Jamie deciding that he loved her church and wanted to become Mennonite was something that was never going to happen, then she had to leave him alone. She had to separate herself from him and Peter both. Neither she nor Jamie was willing to change churches. Neither one of them was willing to give up the life that they had made. And if they weren’t careful, Peter would pay the price.
She made up her mind then and there: after tonight, there would be no more almost-but-not-quite-a-date dates with Jamie Stoltzfus. There were too many hearts at stake.
Chapter Thirteen
She parked the car in the church parking lot and sat for a moment. She closed her eyes in quick prayer and hoped that the good Lord was listening. The prayer was short and to the point. Help me get through this night, and I promise never to bother Jamie or Peter again. Amen.
It had nothing to do with Deborah and her plans of marriage.
That was another thing she needed to talk to Jamie about. He might not have fathered Peter in the traditional sense, but he was as good a father to the boy as any man could be. Jamie didn’t need a wife to help him care for Peter. He simply needed to pour all the love and attention onto him, and God would handle the rest. Peter had already spoken—granted, negative words concerning his feelings for Deborah, but it was just a matter of time before he spoke again. Once he was speaking, his grandparents had no cause to demand they get to care for him. All Jamie had to do was love the child and wait. He could do that with both arms tied behind his back.
“Leah?” Jamie asked beside her. His voice was filled with light concern. “Are you okay? I mean, we don’t have to go in—”
She shook her head and adjusted the rearview mirror so she could see Peter. “Are you ready to go paint some rocks?” she asked him.
He nodded enthusiastically, nearly slinging his hat into the seat next to him.
“All right, then. Let’s go.” She looked back to Jamie. “Are you ready?”
“Of course. You?” he asked in return.
Leah forced a smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
* * *
Jamie wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked into the church, but it wasn’t anything like he imagined. Not that he’d had any experience with church buildings, Englisch or Mennonite.
They walked into what appeared to be a side building set at the end of the main church. Leah called it the rec hall, though he didn’t quite understand what that meant. The place was equipped with several classrooms off a main room and even included a kitchen. The large area was separated from the stove and fridge with a low counter that stretched the entire length of the room. The rest was lined with long tables and chairs where people had already begun to gather, greeting one another as they found their seats.
At both ends of each table, someone had placed two plastic tubs, one filled with rocks and the other with paints in every color imaginable. Beside each set of paints was a plastic cup filled with brushes.
“Let’s sit over here.” Leah directed them to the end of one of the tables.
Jamie noticed that she spoke to several people as she entered and even more as she settled into the seats she had chosen. She smiled politely and introduced him and Peter to the people who stopped and asked. If they thought it was peculiar that he and Peter were Amish, they didn’t say. They, like Leah, smiled and nodded, then went about their business. The men looked like regular Englischers, with blue jeans and patterned shirts. The women were dressed like Leah, with long skirts and modest sleeves. Some had small black prayer coverings on their bobs. The children were a mixture of the two, most dressing in the same manner as their parents.
Not long after Leah, Peter, and Jamie found their chairs, a young man stepped before the crowd. If Jamie had to guess he would say that he was in his midthirties. He had sandy blond hair and dark brown eyes. His smile was engaging as he clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention.
“Most of you know who I am, but I see a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd. For you, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Pastor Joel. Tonight’s project is about fun and fellowship,” he started.
“And the word of God,” some helpful artist added.
The man laughed. “Yes, that too. In the center of each table is a basket containing slips of paper with Bible verses written on them. You can choose one from the basket, quote one from memory, or find your own. However you feel moved. Paint the rock, the verse, and any decoration on your rock that you’re compelled to. After they dry, we’re going to take them around and hide them through our town for other rock hunters to find. Any questions?”
A young boy raised his hand.
“Yes, William?”
“Can I paint more than one?”
The pastor chuckled. “You may paint as many as you want. But remember, the more you paint, the more you will be responsible for hiding around town. Are you up for that?”
“Yes, sir.” William gave an enthusiastic nod.
“Perfect. Any more questions?” When no one had any, Pastor Joel bowed his head. “Let us pray. Father in Heaven, thank you for the blessings You have given us this day. Lord, allow tonight to be fun and productive. Keep our hands, minds, and hearts on target and help us all to fulfill Your word. In Jesus’ name. Amen.” He looked around the room. “Let’s paint. Everyone take turns getting your supplies. Don’t forget to get a cup of clean water for cleaning your paintbrush, and have fun.”
The room became a flurry of excited yet controlled activity. They waited a bit before getting their supplies. Peter sat patiently watching as the others ran for paint and brushes and then started picking out verses.
“Are you ready?” Leah asked Peter.
He nodded and slid from his chair.
“Sit tight,” Leah told Jamie. “We’ll bring you back supplies, okay?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Any special color?” she asked.
“Whatever you like,” he said with a small smile.
Jamie watched as they went to the end of the table and started gathering brushes and paints. Leah kept up a steady stream of conversation, even though Peter only answered her with one gesture or another. She never seemed to get frustrated that he wouldn’t talk. It was as if his lack of speech was just a part of who he was and not a traumatic choice he had made.
In no time at all they had gathered rocks, paints, and brushes along with a cup of water for cleaning up, then they returned to their seats.
“We got black, blue, and red,” Leah said. “I wanted to get yellow so you could make green, but there wasn’t one.”
He smiled. “This is fine.” But how did she know that green was his favorite color? He didn’t recall saying anything about it to her. He had a couple of green shirts, but like most of the men in Pontotoc, he usually wore blue, for nothing other than tradition.
“We can make purple though, right, Peter?”
He nodded.
“Why don’t you get us verses we can put on our rocks?”