A Love for Leah

by Amy Lillard

  “I am. It’s just—”

  “Peter,” she finished for him.

  “Jah. Peter.”

  The name was simple, Biblical. Peter had been a devout follower of Christ, His rock. And yet there was nothing simple about it. Little Peter was hurting, suffering under his scars, and Jamie felt helpless against it. He didn’t have to say the words. Leah knew. She could feel his despair. And she would do anything to help him ease those feelings. In both of them.

  “What about Deborah?” Leah hadn’t meant to ask the question. It had been knocking around in her head since yesterday, when Deborah had been in Twice Blessed.

  Leah had wanted to tell Jamie about Deborah’s plans to win him over, of her taking clothes so she would have more to wear while she was here. How she washed her clothes often so that her best would always be clean just in case. But how could she without sounding hopelessly jealous?

  “What about her?” Jamie asked.

  “She’s been down here a long time.”

  He sighed. “She said she wasn’t leaving until I agree to go back with her.”

  Leah wasn’t sure how to respond. She made what she hoped was an understanding yet commiserating face, then tilted her head from side to side.

  “Every night I pray that tomorrow will be the day she gives up.”

  When he should be praying for Peter.

  “Aunt Leah! Jamie! Look!” Brandon called from the edge of the building.

  Just over the last of the picnic tables, Leah could see Shelly bent at the waist and Peter crouched on the ground, his arms around the dirtiest dog she had ever seen.

  Mud caked the beast’s tan face, coloring its fur a rusty brown and clumping it together. Amid all the dirt and filth, Leah met sweet brown eyes that begged for love and attention. And maybe what was left of her hamburger.

  She stood and took the scraps over to the dog. He gobbled down the burger, nearly choked, then started on the fries.

  “What do we do with it?” Brandon asked.

  “I think Peter wants to keep him,” Shelly said.

  Leah was reminded of the dog that Peter had lost in the fire. She had been thinking a dog would help his healing along, and she had said as much to Jamie, but she had no say further than that.

  “I think he belongs to somebody.” Leah pointed to the equally dirty collar almost hidden in the matted fur. Upon closer inspection, Leah could see that once upon a time, the collar had been a sweet baby blue.

  After he was cleaned up, the dog would probably be cute. The kind of mid-sized dog with shaggy, tan fur that might answer to a name like Scrappy.

  “There aren’t any tags,” Shelly pointed out.

  “Maybe he belongs to someone around here.” Leah glanced around to see if anyone appeared to be looking for a pooch.

  “This dirty?” Brandon said. “He’s been out here for a while.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to ask,” Leah said.

  They almost had to pry Peter’s arms from around the dog’s neck. They used Brandon’s belt as a leash and walked the dog down the street. He pranced on the end of the makeshift lead as he if he had been born to walk there. Leah knew he had to belong to someone. But who?

  No one was missing a dog from any of the stores they visited.

  “What do we do now?” Brandon asked.

  “We can’t take him home,” Leah said. “We don’t have enough room.”

  Shelly took a step back, holding her arms up as if surrendering. “Don’t look at me. My parents would have a cow if I brought home a puppy.”

  “You think he’s a puppy?” Jamie asked.

  “He’s not quite a year,” Leah estimated. “But he probably won’t get much bigger than this.”

  “I guess we could take him with us.” Jamie’s tone was reluctant. “If we leave him here, he’ll probably get hit by a car.”

  Leah nodded.

  “But we can’t keep him,” Jamie told Peter. “Do you understand that? He belongs to someone, and they are probably looking for him.”

  “Shelly and I can make some signs at the library.” Brandon took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of the mutt.

  Shelly nodded, her ponytail swinging from side to side. “I’ll hand them out.”

  Jamie sighed. “I guess it’s up to us to feed him and give him a bath.”

  Leah laughed. “I guess I could help with that too.”

  “Then let’s do it,” Jamie said, and together their odd little family, plus filthy stray dog, made their way down Main Street.

  * * *

  How did Jamie end up with a dog in a cabin with two—make that three—rooms? There was no fenced-in yard. Most folks around these parts let their dogs run free, but he didn’t want to do that. Too many people drove too fast down the winding gravel roads. What good would it do to bring the dog home to keep him from getting run over in town only to let him loose in the country? And he was reluctant to put the mutt on a chain. He’d had a friend who had done that, and his dog had wound around a tree and choked himself to death. The last thing, the very last thing he needed was Peter coming outside to find a dead dog in his yard. It was going to be hard enough when they found the real owner.

  But there Jamie sat on the couch that Leah had helped him find. Peter sat at the coffee table, writing his letters. The pooch lay curled up next to the boy, his chin propped on one bent leg.

  The dog was a loving creature. All he seemed to want was a little bit of food and as much attention as anyone could spare.

  Someone had to be looking for the mutt. And it was only a matter of time before they called Brandon’s phone to inquire.

  Jamie looked to boy and dog, who seemed so content to be together. He supposed he would cross that bridge when he got there, as they say. The dog needed to stay somewhere, and his cabin just happened to be the where. Everything else could be dealt with as it came.

  * * *

  Jamie pulled on the tail end of his vest the following morning and surveyed himself in the small mirror that hung next to his bed. Leah had told him that he could wear whatever he wanted to the service, but he couldn’t see past wearing his church clothes.

  The dog had slept with Peter the night before. Jamie wasn’t all for animals in the house, but he didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that the dog had to sleep elsewhere. After all, they would have to keep him in the house for a while. And if he was already inside, what harm was it if he stayed in Peter’s room? From there it was a short hop—literally—to the foot of Peter’s bed.

  Jamie’s secret hope was that the dog would provide Peter whatever it was he needed in order to fight back the terrible memories he faced and talk again. Time was running short. There were only a couple more weeks before Sally’s parents would come to get him, whether they had room, love, and attention for another child or not.

  Somehow Jamie had to get Peter talking. And somehow he had to do it in the next two weeks.

  He heard the crunch of gravel from outside and knew that Leah and Brandon were there to get them.

  “Peter? Are you ready?” He asked the question, but he knew Peter wouldn’t answer. Couldn’t blame a man for trying.

  Jamie gave his vest another tug, then made his way into the main room. Peter was standing next to the couch, his own white shirt neat and crisp, thanks to Leah. The shirt had miraculously appeared in her donation box at the shop. It was a little too clean and free of stains to be anything but new. He figured Gracie had made it at Leah’s request. He just couldn’t imagine Leah sitting down at a treadle machine and piecing a garment together. The image just wouldn’t come. And that wasn’t bad. Leah was a little untraditional, but that was just Leah.

  “Are you ready?” Jamie resisted the urge to tug on his vest once again. He felt like his clothes had shrunk. Or maybe he had gained a little weight. Most probably he was simply uncomfortable.

  He had never been to another church. Not even once in his entire life. Why did he agree to go to Leah’s church with her this morning?
>
  Why did it matter so much?

  Because he had faith in his God, in his religion, in his faith. His faith was all that he had left. But lately . . . lately it had seemed like his faith was wearing thin. Lately he had been wondering if there was more out there than what he had been told his entire life. And it scared him. Straight down to his bones. He was terrified, quaking. What if he found something different only to discover that it really wasn’t more? That it was an illusion. What would that do to his faith, his works? To everything he held so dear?

  Peter nodded, the dog sitting at his feet as if he was trying to be the best dog he could be so they would have no choice but to keep him.

  Yesterday, Brandon and Shelly had posted a bunch of flyers around town, and hopefully before the end of the week, the rightful owners would come get their dog. But when that happened, Jamie was going to have to get Peter another dog. Leah was right. Peter may not have said a word since the pup had come into their lives, but he was the happiest that Jamie had seen him in a long, long time.

  He nodded toward the boy. “Let’s go, then.”

  * * *

  Walking into the actual church shouldn’t have felt different than walking into an Amish home where the furniture had been moved aside and the benches had been set up for the service. But it did.

  There seemed to be a reverent quiet about the place. The sort of hush that made him want to whisper, even though those around him were speaking in normal tones. He wanted to walk softly as well, even though the carpet beneath his feet cushioned his footfalls.

  Aside from the air of expectancy, the church was . . . different than he had expected. Not that he’d had an idea in mind. All he had ever known were the homes of his friends and neighbors. But this was a building set aside especially for one thing. Church. Even the fancier houses that had a bonus room to hold church in used that space for storage and other things until their turn for service came around. This . . . this was a luxury beyond anything he had ever seen. Carpet, flowers, a big wooden cross draped with a stretch of deep purple cloth. The walls were painted a soft, inviting white, and the ceiling was lined with dark wooden beams. Aside from the place up front where he assumed the pastor would stand and deliver his word for the day, it was mostly like the church he was accustomed to. In a bare bones sort of way. Floor, walls, ceiling, benches to sit. But the atmosphere—that truly set the whole place apart. The atmosphere said, This place is special, so special we only do one thing here: worship the Lord.

  Jamie cleared his throat as Peter moved a little closer to him. The boy was wide-eyed, taking in everything like a sponge absorbs water.

  Leah led the way down the center aisle, just a few steps ahead of them. She tossed a small smile over her shoulder. “I usually sit here.” She stopped about midway along the line of benches and pointed to a spot on the right. “Is that okay with the two of you?”

  Jamie stopped. “You mean . . .” She had to mean that they were sitting together. He glanced around at the other couples who had already found their places. There were women and men on both sides of the center. At least now he wouldn’t spend half of the service looking at her seated across the room. This way she would be right next to him. He cleared his throat again. “This is fine.”

  They sat together with Peter sandwiched between. He swung his legs and looked at the paper they were handed when they came in. It told of the songs they were going to sing, the verses they would read in the service, and what had happened within the church since they met last Sunday.

  Jamie wasn’t sure why Peter found it so mesmerizing, but he stared at it as if he could read every word. He studied each page and held Leah’s hand. Just like a family.

  * * *

  The sermon was enjoyable, interesting, and different than what he was accustomed to, aside from the fact that it was in English. The words of the pastor stayed with Jamie as the final announcements were read, the final prayer prayed, and the invitation offered to stay after and talk with others about God and His grace if someone needed special attention or prayer. These words mixed with the verse on the rock Jamie had found the day before.

  Pastor Joel had preached from John 11:25. Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”

  There was nothing there about how you were to live your life. It simply was. And yesterday the verse on the rock had talked about grace being a gift. Just a gift, and you were saved. Was it really that simple? He had wanted to walk up front, kneel down with the preacher, and ask about being saved by grace. God’s grace. It had such a nice, firm ring to it. Trustworthy. But he had managed to keep his spot on the deep purple carpet. His legs had trembled with his effort to remain in place. He swayed even as if someone was pushing him from behind. This message went against everything he had ever been told in his life, and yet he wanted to know more. He didn’t feel as if his church had lied to him, merely that it had told him only part of God’s love. God’s grace.

  But he couldn’t make himself go forward. It was uncertainty. He wanted to be sure of what he was finding out. Yet how could he know unless he asked? Wasn’t that what the Englisch called a catch-22? But he had remained in place with Peter next to him and Leah on the other side of him. Brandon had found a place nearer the back, sitting with friends.

  And then church was over. They met with a few of Leah’s friends, then got back into her car and headed toward home. His home, the Gingeriches’ home.

  “Mamm’s is always good for an after-church meal,” Leah said as they headed down Topsy Road.

  Jamie had traveled the road many times, but usually in a horse and carriage. Strangely enough, he was beginning to get used to traveling in a car. At least it wasn’t as unnerving today as it had been the day before, or even the time before that.

  “I could go for some of Mammi’s pie,” Brandon said from the back seat.

  Peter nodded.

  Why wouldn’t he talk? Jamie so needed him to talk.

  “Are you still going to the wedding with me and Gracie on Thursday?” Leah asked as she pulled her car to a stop at her parents’ house.

  “I said I would.”

  Leah breathed a sigh. “I was hoping you would say that.”

  Jamie got out of the car. The boys ran for the house to be the first one to the porch, thereby winning the biggest piece of pie. Brandon had Peter in both agility and ability, but Peter was pulling ahead. Brandon might have let him win, but Peter was thrilled all the same.

  * * *

  For Leah, the week went about as usual. Tuesday was cousins’ day, and they continued their endeavor to stock, restock, and build up the goat milk products she carried in the shop. Twice Blessed’s business was steady and true. She even had a few people come by with their cell phones and snap a quick picture of the rock she had “hidden” in her front window. Some ventured in, while others snapped and moved on along.

  But Thursday? That was weighing on her. Why had she invited Jamie to go with her? Just so she wouldn’t have to go alone? She and Hannah had promised to go together and help with the cleanup afterward, but Hannah’s plans had changed when Aaron had a horse show in Oxford. Hannah was staying at his house while he was out of town to get the kids ready for school and put to bed in the evening. Hannah was going long enough to see the couple get married, and then she had to scoot back home. Which would leave Leah alone at her once-upon-a-time boyfriend’s wedding. No, thank you.

  So Leah had asked Jamie. Like a lovesick idiot. Not that she had delusions that anything could actually be between her and Jamie. But she did want to be his friend. She had grown fond of him. More than fond, if she was being truly honest with herself. He could make her madder than any person she had ever met, and quicker than everyone as well. But there was something about him that seemed to draw her to him, whether she wanted to be or not. It was as if something inside him called to something inside her. What? She had no idea. But it was there all the same.

  S
he had prayed and prayed about it. She and Jamie were simply too different to be anything other than friends. Neither one was ready to give up their church; neither one was willing to ask the other to change their way of life. What could become of that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So why had God put these feelings inside her? Did Jamie feel the same? She thought He did, but she couldn’t be certain. They had both been cautious not to cross any lines. At least none that couldn’t be uncrossed.

  “Are you ready?” Jamie asked as he pulled the buggy to a stop in front of her mamm’s house.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she muttered under her breath, then flashed him a bright smile. “Of course.”

  She made her way down the porch steps as Peter was coming up them. The dog was padding along at his heels.

  “Have a good time with Eunice,” she said.

  He smiled and nodded. If he was anything like Brandon, he would be just fine as long as there was pie.

  “Hi, Peter. No, no, no,” she heard her mother say as she got into the buggy next to Jamie. “The pooch has to stay outside. He’ll be fine on the porch. Come on in and help me get him some water to drink. It’s October, but still plenty warm out.”

  Leah had thought it was just her. It did seem warmer than usual, but she wasn’t about to comment on it. Now she didn’t have to.

  “I’m still not sure about this.” She waved a hand at her lap.

  “What about it? You look fine to me.”

  It had nothing to do with looking fine. She knew she looked appropriate. Good, even. But she didn’t look the same.

  She was wearing her best: a long, dark purple dress with a shallow scooped neck and three-quarter sleeves. She liked what the color did for her hair and her eyes. They looked almost jade. She wanted to look her best for a lot of reasons, but she knew she would be the only one there who wasn’t Amish. Her dress covered just as much as the Amish dresses; it just fit a little closer and didn’t have an apron. The color was dark enough to pass muster, but she knew the truth. She would stick out like a sore thumb. She should have just stayed at home, but she had wanted to see Abby and Benuel find their happiness. She had to come, if only to prove to everyone that since she was back, she hadn’t regretted her decisions. And she didn’t. Mostly.