A Love for Leah

by Amy Lillard

  “All righty, then.” The man turned away and grabbed a few more papers from one of the filing cabinets behind him.

  While his back was turned, Leah leaned closer to Jamie. “What fenced-in backyard?”

  “The one we’re going to have. White picket fence, remember that?”

  “Jamie.” Her voice was both a warning and a plea. Didn’t he understand? It had been the hardest thing she had ever done, turning him down. But it had to be. Normally after a crushing blow like that, she would have gone home and soaked in a tub of water laced with lavender oil. But here she was, running him all over town and helping him adopt a dog. “Will you stop doing that? It’s bothersome.”

  “Marry me, and I’ll quit.”

  “I can’t.” He was killing her slowly, just two words at a time. Marry me.

  A rustle of papers brought her attention to the man behind the desk. “Is there a problem?” He eyed them over the top of his black-framed reading glasses.

  “No.” Leah cleared her throat.

  Bobby smiled. “Okay, you three come with me, and I’ll show you who’s looking for a new home.”

  He stood and led them down a short corridor. At the end was a door. He pushed it open and stood to one side, holding it for them.

  The smell of dog was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a strong one, and Leah wondered how many animals they housed here.

  The barking was almost deafening. The room they were in had the feel of a warehouse, only it was lined with cages and filled with canines of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

  “Feel free to look around,” Bobby hollered to them, using the clipboard he carried as a one-sided megaphone. “If you see one you like, we’ll take him out into the yard and let you spend some time together.”

  Jamie nodded, then bent down and said something in Peter’s ear. With all the barking, Leah couldn’t hear what he said, but she supposed he was encouraging Peter to take a look around.

  The entire time they had been in the shelter, he’d had his head down. Down so low it appeared someone had glued his chin to his chest.

  Now, with Jamie’s command, he moved forward, dragging his feet, chin still tucked.

  “You want to look around?” Jamie hollered to her. “You need to like the dog too. After all, you’ll probably be the one feeding him.”

  “Jamie.”

  “Once we’re married.” He smiled as if the plans had been in the works for months. He took a couple of steps into the room.

  She held her ground.

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “Help us find a dog.”

  Walking down the aisles of cages was beyond heartbreaking. The dogs all barked, wagged their tails, and danced around as if auditioning for a part. Leah wanted to take all of them home. There were little dogs that looked to be part Chihuahua and medium-sized dogs that would be perfect for a boy like Peter. There were even a couple of dogs with legs almost as long as hers and deep, throaty barks. Great Dane mixes, most likely. There were puppies and middle-aged dogs and some with enough gray on their faces Leah wondered if they would live the rest of their lives in this shelter. The thought almost made her cry.

  “Is that . . . ?” Jamie pointed to a cage where a shaggy golden-colored puppy braced her paws on the gate and tried to lick them through the chain link.

  “Golden retriever puppy.” Bobby nodded. “A mixed breed, probably. Just brought her in yesterday. She won’t be here long.”

  She was about the cutest thing Leah had ever seen. Fuzzy paws, sweet brown eyes, and a wagging tail.

  Jamie was staring at the dog as well. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he thought the dog was perfect. A puppy to grow with Peter, a golden mix like the dog he had before. A dog to run and play with a little boy who needed a fresh start in life. In a word, perfect.

  Bobby didn’t even have to be asked. He grabbed a leash off the wall next to the door and unlocked the pen. The wriggling puppy danced sideways out of the cage, her back feet getting ahead of her front as she hurried to greet them. Leah wanted to snuggle her close and bury her nose in the soft golden fur.

  “I’ll get Peter,” she volunteered.

  Jamie nodded. “Meet you outside.”

  The room was more than two rows of pens, with an aisle down the middle. There were turns and switchbacks, each lined with more pens and more dogs. She was beginning to get worried when she finally found Peter. It was almost as if he had picked the dog farthest from the front. He was kneeling in the aisle in front of a gate, his hand palm up in an offering of trust.

  “What’d you find?” Leah asked, slowing her footsteps as she came closer. From the other side of the large room, she heard a door shut. Once Bobby and Jamie were out of sight, the room got a fraction quieter as the dogs realized they were gone.

  The pen in front of Peter contained a medium-sized dog with short hair and a skinny body. He was a mottled mixture of white, black, and tan and most probably had a great deal of blue heeler in there somewhere. His slim waist and pointed nose hinted at some greyhound. But it was his sad eyes and gray face that told most of his story. Even the wag of his tail was slow and hesitant, as if he were afraid to take the happiness of getting attention for granted.

  “That’s quite a dog,” Leah said. Quite a dog and pretty much the exact opposite of the energetic puppy Jamie and Bobby had just taken outside.

  “That dog’s old.”

  Leah turned as Bobby came up behind them. She should have realized that he was back in the building by the increase in the barking volume, but she had been too busy watching Peter. She pressed a hand to her heart. “He seems to like him.”

  “That dog’s got a story,” Bobby said. “I suppose they all do, but he belonged to a vet. You know, Desert Storm or one of those.” He shook his head as if that would help him remember. “The man who owned him suffered a lot of injuries. He came back, but everyone knew that eventually the wounds would get him. And they did.”

  “So his owner is deceased?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And the poor pooch is old enough that no one wants to adopt him. Everyone wants puppies, or at the very least cute dogs. And that one is not cute.”

  She couldn’t disagree with him on that, but it didn’t make it any better. It didn’t make it right. She felt a tug on her hand. She looked down into Peter’s wounded eyes.

  He pointed to the cage.

  “Can you use your words?”

  For a moment she thought he might refuse, then he sighed. “I want him.”

  * * *

  When he had agreed to get Peter a dog, the canine in the back seat of Leah’s car was the furthest thing from his mind. But Peter had chosen the dog. Leah said the dog chose them. He had been through almost as much as Peter. They both had loved and lost. And though Jamie was worried that the dog didn’t have many more years left, Leah assured him that Peter wanted to spend them with the pooch.

  Duke was his name, Jamie found out, called that by an owner who loved John Wayne films. Jamie had no idea who John Wayne was, but he figured if he was deserving enough to have a faithful companion named after him, he must have been something special.

  He looked back over the seat to Peter and his new old dog. Bobby had given them a leash for the animal, but it didn’t seem necessary. He knew what he was supposed to do, and he wasn’t about to act up and ruin his adoption. How the dog knew all these things, Jamie wasn’t sure, but he could look in his eyes and tell that somehow he did know. Smart dog.

  Now he lay in the seat, his chin on Peter’s leg. Peter looked out the window at the scenery going by and rubbed the dog’s ear between his thumb and forefinger.

  Duke let out a shuddering, utterly contented sigh.

  “What are you going to do with him when you get him home?” Leah asked.

  “I think he needs to be in the house. Bobby said he was housebroken. And it’s not like he needs to have a yard to run in. He looks like he could take his last breath any minute.” Just saying the words made hi
m wonder if he should have tried to talk Peter into a younger dog.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Leah said. “And no.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?” Jamie asked.

  She gave a quick shrug without even taking her hands from the wheel.

  “When we’re married, will you teach me to drive?” Jamie asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Would you stop that? You are not learning how to drive.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Jamie, seriously.”

  “I am being serious.”

  She turned the car into the drive at his cabin and cut the engine.

  “Does that mean you’re staying for a while?” he asked.

  “I thought I would help you get all this in.”

  After their stop at the animal shelter, they had gone back into Pontotoc to Walmart and picked up what they would need for the dog. Jamie wasn’t sure a dog needed that much stuff, but Leah assured him it was all necessary. Dog food, dog bed, dog bowl, toys, treats, and special shampoo.

  “He’s got more stuff than I do,” he had grumbled, but Leah hadn’t paid him any mind as she continued to load things into the basket.

  Peter and Duke got out of the back seat and headed toward the house at a slow pace. Jamie noticed the dog walked with a slight limp. He thought he had read in the paperwork that just after the previous owner had been sent overseas, the dog had been hit by a car.

  Jamie started to get out, but Leah stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Jamie.” Her voice was quiet and hesitant. “Please stop asking me to marry you.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I want to remain friends, but if you’re going to do that, then I won’t be able to come around.”

  “Because it makes you uncomfortable?”

  “Because it breaks my heart.”

  Just what he wanted. Sort of. “Then marry me.”

  “Jamie.” She groaned and laid her forehead against the steering wheel.

  Jamie reached into his pocket and pulled out the yellow slip of paper Pastor Joel had given him. He wasn’t sure how it pertained, but he knew on some level it did.

  “What’s John 3:16?”

  She straightened, turned to face him. “What?”

  “I mean, it’s a Bible verse, that much I know. But what does it say? What does it mean?”

  She looked at the paper he held in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

  “Pastor Joel.” He turned it where she could see.

  She studied it. “It’s a verse about God’s love. That he sent Jesus here to die for us.”

  “And that is saved by grace?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Mostly.”

  He let that wash over him, tried to fit it in with all the other things he had been taught in church. “Will you tell me more?”

  She looked like she wanted to refuse. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

  “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll ask someone else. Pastor Joel, the head doctor. One of them will tell me.”

  She sighed. “Let’s go in the house.”

  “And you’ll tell me more then?” he asked.

  “We’ll talk about it.”

  * * *

  Peter stayed out on the porch just sitting with Duke. Leah hoped the pooch would perk up in a day or two when it looked as if he was going to get to stay. Maybe once he got comfortable with the idea of having a new owner. Until then, Peter seemed content to rub his ears and simply sit by his side.

  “Christians, Protestants,” she said, “believe in saved by grace. We are assured our place in Heaven because we believe in Jesus. Amish and Catholics believe that you have to do a little more.” It was the best and fairest explanation she could come up with. She only knew what she believed, not exactly how to explain it to someone else.

  “Works,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  “How did you get to learn so much about religion?”

  She really didn’t know all that much. Not compared to others. “Once I left here, I knew I couldn’t come back. Not and be a part of the church again. You know as well as I do that there’s a reason we separate ourselves from the world.”

  “Hannah came back.”

  “I’m not Hannah.”

  He nodded in a true sort of way and waited for her to continue.

  “So I started searching.” She stood and wandered over to the window to check on Peter and Duke. They were in almost the same exact spot they had been in the last time she’d peeked out.

  He seemed to let that all sink in. “Why the Mennonites?”

  “I don’t know. It just seemed right. I can wear a prayer covering. I can’t imagine going without one.”

  “I saw a lot of women in the church without them.”

  “Personal preference,” she explained.

  “I don’t think I can not wear a white shirt and a vest to church.”

  “You better not. Bishop Amos would have a fit.” She laughed.

  “I mean to Second Street.”

  Leah returned to her chair and took his hand into hers. “Jamie. You can’t do that. You can’t give up everything you have known.”

  “Why not? You did.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  She released his hand and stood. “I never wanted to leave. I only wanted to help Hannah. Keep her safe.”

  “You’re a good sister.”

  “I’m not. I couldn’t protect her. Not completely.”

  “She made her own choices.”

  “I did too.”

  “That’s all I’m trying to do.” His tone was simple, matter-of-fact.

  “If you leave the Amish to marry me, what does that do to our relationship?”

  “I would hope it would improve and grow.”

  “What if you regret your sacrifice?” He wasn’t looking at this with open eyes. What kind of friend would she be if she let him jump into this rashly?

  “Not going to happen.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I wouldn’t be leaving the Amish for you. I would be leaving for us. For Peter. To get him the help that he needs. To give him the family he deserves. If I were to find someone in the Amish church, it would be months before we could get married. Not taking into account how long it could take me to find them.”

  “The district’s not that big. There’s somebody.”

  “I don’t want somebody,” he quietly said. “I want you.”

  “Why?” The word fell from her lips before she even had time to think about it.

  “Don’t ask me questions I don’t know the answer to. You challenge my every thought. You make me stand up for what I believe in, you question my every move, and somehow I’m a better person for it.”

  She wiped at her face, and he wondered if she was swiping away tears. “If I question you, then what’s the answer?”

  He looked back to the Bible laying open on the table. “I don’t know.”

  She nodded. “Let me know if you ever find out.” Then she turned and walked out the door.

  * * *

  How could things have gone this far when they knew there could never be more between them than what was already there?

  For once in her life she wished Plain people wore makeup. She could use something to cover up the bruised-looking shadows beneath her eyes and add a little color to her lips and cheeks. She hadn’t slept much at all the night before, Jamie’s words ringing in her head like the bells of the cathedral in Mexico.

  He made it sound so simple, so easy. Well, so had Hannah. As much as Leah wanted to believe, she couldn’t. She had been down a similar road with her sister, and though everything turned out okay in the end, it had taken nearly fifteen years before that outcome.

  Jamie thought he could just jump over to being Mennonite. She could understand such an attitude from Englischers who didn’t always understand the subtle and complex differences between Amish and Mennonite, but he should know bet
ter.

  Saved by grace took a lot of faith to accept, and still every day she did her best to keep up her works. That was why she had added the trade-in for the Amish. That was why she had taken on Brandon. That was why she did most of what she did for others. The religion of one’s youth was so very hard to unlearn.

  But Jamie was different. She had lived Amish for eighteen years; he had lived thirty or better. That was a long time to live one way, then suddenly change. Next to impossible. Especially if he was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

  “You got a lot on your mind today,” Brandon commented as she pulled her car into the church parking lot.

  Out in the country, the Amish were already milling around getting ready for the three-plus hour sermon. Jamie would be among them in his white shirt and black vest. The clothes he said he never could break himself from wearing to church.

  The religion of one’s youth was so very hard to unlearn.

  “Yeah,” she muttered, not really wanting to talk about it. She was never up for rehashing her problems, but this one was especially hard. There were times when talking through a problem with a friend or relative could bring about a fresh solution. Not this time. There was nothing she could do or say to improve their relationship. He would always be Amish, and she would always be Mennonite.

  A person can’t just stop being Amish. You are either Amish or ex.

  The words she had said to Brandon not so very long ago rattled around in her head. Jamie just thought he wanted to be ex-Amish. She wasn’t under a Bann, since she hadn’t joined before she left, but he was a member. He would be shunned by all his family.

  He didn’t have much family left. Just Peter and a sister in Tennessee. Leah knew her family would find a way around any shunning. Her heart gave a small leap of joy, but she squelched the feeling. She couldn’t ask that of him. If she did and things went wrong, how would they ever forgive each other? Amish were taught to forgive, and as ex-Amish that value would still hold true, but the damage would still be done.

  Leah got out of the car and slung her purse over one shoulder. She had to put a stop to those thoughts. She needed to give her mind a rest. It was time for church.

  * * *

  She did the best she could to follow along, marking all the blanks in the lesson sheet and making notes in the margins of her bulletin. But her mind kept drifting away to Jamie and Peter, sitting at someone’s house on hard, backless benches listening to Amos Raber or Strawberry Dan or one of the others speak the message of the day.