by Mary Ellis
Ken’s arm slipped around his son’s shoulder. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. Welcome home, son. It’s good to see you.”
They embraced like typical men—brief and awkward, but a lump rose up Jake’s throat just the same. “It’s great to be back, Dad.”
Ken cocked his head to one side. “Jessie said you were upset about something but didn’t say what. Are you ready to talk now?” Concern deepened his crow’s-feet into creases.
“Sure, but let’s go inside and warm up first. Jessie doesn’t know my woes. That’s why she couldn’t spill the beans.” Jake retrieved his suitcase from his truck, along with empty fast-food wrappers and coffee cups, and followed his father up the steps. “Where is everybody?” he asked. The house was unnaturally dark and silent. Not even the TV droned in the living room.
“Your mom is working the late shift. She’ll be home within the hour. Jessie took Keeley back to campus for a sleepover—some kind of a little sister thing. Keeley wore out her shoes shadowing Jessie this past week. Now she’s dead set on attending U of K too.”
“Hasn’t she figured out Jessie will have graduated by the time she gets there?”
“I don’t think so, so don’t point that out. We’ll let the idea ride for a while. It’s helping to improve her grades.” Ken pulled two soft drinks from the refrigerator and handed one to Jake, but he only switched on the light above the stove. Maybe he thought a dim atmosphere would make their heart-to-heart less intimidating. Both men sat down at the table.
After a long swallow of Coke, Jake summarized the last month in five or six sentences. Then he set down his drink and looked his father in the eye. “Early in December I got an offer for Eager to Please from a rich group of investors. I should have told you and Mom, but I didn’t. I messed up—a realization I only arrived at recently.” He forced himself not to break eye contact.
“Someone offered to buy the colt? For how much?”
“A lot. Enough money to pay back everything we’ve borrowed with interest, along with the current bills and training expenses, and maybe have enough left over for you and Mom to take a second honeymoon.”
Ken balled his hands into fists. “Why would you keep that from us? We certainly had a right to know, didn’t we?”
His father didn’t curse or pound on the table. He didn’t even raise his voice above a normal conversational tone, but his son could tell he was profoundly disappointed. Jake tasted the burn of acid in his throat but wouldn’t allow himself to cry. He was a man, not a child who had done wrong and was desperately seeking his parents’ forgiveness. Instead, he enumerated the stark truth—every conclusion he had reached while on the telephone with his sister and while sitting in the trackside chapel. He told his father what kind of person he had been and how he desperately wanted to change.
Ken allowed him to talk without interrupting. “I’m glad you’ve come home. The fact you’re troubled by this means you’re headed in the right direction. What do you plan to do now, son? How can your mother and I help?”
Exhaling slowly, Jake folded his hands in front of him. “I want to be a man like you, Dad—a man who thinks before acting and isn’t ashamed to bow his head in prayer. I found a friend in Florida who started me talking to God, but I’m worried about slipping back into my old ways.”
His dad smiled. It was small and fleeting, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Tell me what happened in Florida. Who is this new friend?”
Jake summarized as best he could, detailing the afternoon he found the trailer empty and surrendered himself in frustration and utter despair. “God answered my prayer. My phone rang right then and there in the chapel. The head of the consortium called while I sat there crying. He repeated his bid to buy Eager to Please. He even increased the offer. He said our colt kept running better and better, and that his investors still wanted a chance to take him the distance.”
Ken’s eyes grew round as dinner plates. “He called again wanting to buy? What did you say this time?”
“Because Mr. Terry was offering an additional twenty percent, I said yes.” He raised his hand before his father could interrupt him. “I know once again I made a decision without consulting you and Mom, but the only reason I did so was because I was afraid to let the fish slip off my hook. I told him Twelve Elms was the colt’s owner and you and Mom had to sign off on the paperwork. I really didn’t want to go solo this time.” He ended his confession with a lighter heart.
Ken rubbed the back of his neck, his relief evident on his face. “Thank you for that, Jake. It seems you really have seen the error of your ways.”
If Jake wasn’t mistaken, Ken’s fingers were trembling. “I have,” he said as he grasped his dad’s hand. “I want to try life your way—by the book, or rather by the Book. I’m glad we sold the horse. He didn’t seem to be a very good influence on me.”
Ken’s wry expression returned. “You sound like a lead-foot who blames a speeding ticket on his fast car.”
“Nah, it’s not Eager’s fault I developed a big head. All he ever wanted was to eat buckets of oats, munch down the alfalfa, and run like the wind. I will miss that colt, but on Derby day the Bradys can still make popcorn, mix up some lemonade, and watch our boy run for the roses. Mr. Terry said he’ll list me on any future programs as the breeder. I hope that won’t be too egotistical.”
“We’ll allow you an occasional human weakness. I still possess a few of my own.” Ken tipped up the can and drained his soda. “What are your intentions?”
“Let’s see, tomorrow I’ll go to church with y’all. Then I hope to tuck into Mom’s good home cooking. And I need to swing by Rachel’s too. According to Jessie, she’s had a change of heart.”
“Y’all? My, my, one month in the Deep South and listen to how you talk.” They shared a good laugh as his father turned to the window. “I hear your mom’s car in the yard. I’ll walk out to see if she brought me home a surprise.” He fixed Jake with a pale blue stare. “Welcome back, son. And I don’t just mean to Kentucky.”
“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured, unable to say more. He closed his eyes and for a few minutes enjoyed total silence in the Brady house—a rarity these days. Tomorrow would be soon enough to reveal the price offered by Mr. Terry’s investors.
One near heart attack per night for his father was enough.
Rachel put on her black dress, white apron, and white prayer kapp. Beth had already been peppering her with questions about her plans for the day, so she opted for the complete truth. “I won’t be going to the Mennonite Church with you, grossmammi, and the Stolls today.” Rachel continued to brush her long hair before coiling it up into a tight bun.
Beth stopped dressing to stare at her. “But you’re all ready to go. Do you suddenly feel sick?” She pressed the back of her hand to Rachel’s forehead the way their mamm used to do.
“Nein, I feel fine.”
“But it’s the Sabbath. What else can you do instead?” Her sister looked confused.
“I intend to worship on the Lord’s Day, just not in the Mennonite Church. I’m going to my friend’s church, and he’s Baptist.”
Beth plopped down on the bed. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Jah, I suppose he is…or at least he will be.”
“What will grossmammi say?” Her voice lowered to a whisper.
Rachel took pity on her younger sister and sat down next to her. “She is not going to like it, that’s for certain. But I’m a grown woman, and I must make my own decisions.”
Beth glanced at the closed door. “Are you jumping the fence? That’s what she’s been worried about. I heard her talking to Aunt Irene about it when they didn’t know I was listening.”
“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, but as far as turning English, I honestly don’t know. I might at some time in the future. A lot depends on whether or not Jake is willing to forgive me.”
Beth covered her face with her hands and began to cry. “Why? Don’t you like being Amish anymore?”
Rach
el drew Beth’s head down to her shoulder, enfolding her in an embrace. “I love being Amish. In my soul I will always be Plain, but I also love Jake Brady with my whole heart. I can’t bear the thought of not spending my future with him.”
Beth gazed up with the saddest eyes Rachel had ever seen. “Does he love you? Because if so, why doesn’t he turn Amish?”
“I believe he does love me, but it’s much easier for me to change than it would be for him. I can’t imagine how he could take over the family stable if he became Amish.”
“And his business is more important than Jesus?”
“Of course not, and I won’t ever leave the Christian faith either. I will pray and worship and try to follow a righteous path for the rest of my life. But it could be as a Baptist instead of a member of an Old Order Amish district.”
Beth frowned, attempting to make sense of everything. But at least she stopped crying. “Have you told Nora and Amy yet?”
“No, but I will write to our sisters soon.”
“Amy, and especially John, will have something to say about this.” A hint of a smile came and went.
“I’m sure they will, but I need to do what’s right for me.” Rachel brushed a kiss across Beth’s brow. “I must go now, but we’ll talk more about this later. Please don’t worry.” She hurried down the stairs and out the door, grabbing her coat and purse along the way. She was grateful the kitchen was empty. That was not the case inside the horse barn, however. Isaac was filling water troughs with the hose.
“Guder mariye,” she greeted in Deutsch. “Could you please hitch the small buggy with Sarah’s mare? I’m driving to services alone today.”
“Going to a different church, I take it?” he asked.
“I am, if you’re willing to loan me a horse and buggy.”
“I wasn’t placed on earth to tell you what you can and cannot do, Rachel. That’s your cousin’s job.” He gestured with his chin over her shoulder.
She turned and came face-to-face with Sarah.
“Are you attending Jake’s church? You dashed out the door as though chased by a pack of wild dogs.”
“Jah, if I may borrow your rig.”
“It’s not my rig I’m concerned about. Did you inform our grandmother of your plans?” Sarah sounded remarkably composed.
“Not yet, but I plan to talk to her. Right now I must leave or I’ll miss the entire service.”
“Climb up then. I brought you a warm covering.” Sarah handed her a blanket she’d been holding behind her back.
“Thank you, Sarah. I will always be grateful for everything you and Isaac have done for me.”
“Just don’t skid off the highway. You have to face grossmammi later.” When Rachel covered her legs and picked up the reins, Sarah slapped the mare on the rump.
“I’ll be careful,” she called. The roads turned out to be wet but clear of ice. Rachel arrived in downtown Charm during the opening hymn at First Baptist. Slipping in quietly, she found a seat in the last row. Once again her Plain attire drew a few curious glances and several smiles. Closing her eyes, Rachel relaxed against the pew and allowed the uplifting music, fervent prayers, and passionate sermon to wash over her like a summer shower. Then she sent up a few personal prayers of her own. After Reverend Bullock delivered the parting benediction, Rachel remained where she was. The congregation filed past her into the lobby, nodding and smiling. As she scanned the crowd, her gaze suddenly locked with Keeley’s.
“Rachel, what are you doing here?” The twelve-year-old’s face brightened as though bathed in sunshine.
With Jake stopping at the end of her pew, Rachel had no chance to answer her fair-weather tour partner. “Hi, Jake. Welcome home. I had hoped and prayed you might be here this morning.”
“How did you even know I’d returned from Florida?” He stood ramrod straight while his parents stepped around him, dragging Keeley with them. They both smiled warmly at her but left to give her privacy with their son.
Rachel shrugged, growing less confident by the moment. “I didn’t, so I prayed for that too.”
Jake glanced around the church but didn’t sit down until everyone left the sanctuary. “Is this a good spot to talk or would you rather go someplace else?”
“This is fine. We’ll both be forced to tell the whole truth and nothing but.” She attempted to smile, but it didn’t generate in him her sought-after response.
“What do the Baptists owe this special occasion to?”
“I treated you poorly, Jake. I was rude and nervous and fearful of the unknown. And I’m sorry I wasn’t honest.”
“Apology accepted. You might not have won a diplomacy award, but you were plenty honest. I’ve been barking up the wrong tree for a long time.” He sounded cool and in complete control.
She shook her head so hard her kapp strings swung like pendulums. “That’s not true. I wasn’t honest with myself.” She heard the hitch in her voice, but there was no turning back now. “I love you. I felt something special the moment we met.” She focused on the simple altar with a silver cross, open Bible, and a vase of white roses atop a lace cloth. “But your being English scared the socks off me.”
He pivoted slightly on the hard pew, drawing her eyes back to him. “Nothing has changed, Rachel. I’m still an Englischer.”
“You’re wrong. I have changed. If my parents’ death on a warm summer night taught me nothing else, I learned that life is short. So if you can forgive me, I would love to see if we can make a future together.” She held her breath as she looked down at her clasped hands.
His face softened as he lifted her chin with one finger, causing her to meet his gaze. “I forgave you right away. People do that when they are in love. I left town to give you some space.”
She struggled to catch her breath. “When I came to work and found you gone, I felt ripped in half. I couldn’t keep my mind on my chores. I tried dating other men, but nothing changed the fact that I’m in love with you, Jake Brady. And if I need to turn English for us to be together, then I will. Your God is the same as mine. Jesus came to show us the path to heaven through love and forgiveness. I don’t believe it matters if we call ourselves Amish or Baptist or whatever.”
Jake wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close for a moment. He released a huge sigh. “What do you say we get out of here? I’m dying to kiss you, and I simply can’t do that in church.”
As they stepped out hand in hand into the brilliant sunshine, butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Walk me to where I left my horse and buggy,” she said. When they reached the bare sycamore tree, she turned up her face in full expectation of a kiss. But after a long moment, she opened her eyes.
Jake was leaning against the buggy wheel with his arms crossed over his chest. “I did some stupid things regarding Eager to Please that could have been disastrous for my family. Fortunately, God took pity on me and sent a miracle of sorts. I’ll tell you the whole story when we’re not standing out in the cold.”
“I’ve also made mistakes and done things I’m not proud of. I’m in no position to judge you or anyone else.” Rachel took a step closer.
“In that case I’d like that kiss if you don’t mind.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Apparently no Baptists lurked behind trees, spying on mischief makers, so Rachel closed her eyes to receive the sweetest, most tender kiss of her life. “Yes, that’s what I remembered,” she murmured. “The kiss I’d been unable to forget.”
“And all this time I thought you hung around the stable because of our pretty horses.” His grin looked boyish and handsome.
“That changed the first time I mucked out an entire row of stalls.”
He chuckled and then his expression sobered. “Where do we go from here, Miss King?”
“First, I’m going home for an honest chat with my grandmother. She won’t like me jumping the fence one bit, but her love for her granddaughters has a habit of rising to the surface like cream. On the other hand, Sarah might
sic her attack hens on me…or blame herself. I wish to avoid either situation.”
“Should I follow you in my truck and come inside when you break the news?”
“You’re welcome to follow me home, but then you should head back to Twelve Elms. This is something I must do alone. If all goes well, you and I will have the rest of our lives together.”
“Are we going to buy eggs while we’re there?” Amber asked.
“Definitely, two or three dozen.” Donna kept focused on the road to watch for deer or darting raccoons. “Everyone knows that the Stolls’ eggs are the best in Kentucky.” She grinned, remembering Sarah’s droll reply after hearing praise. “Whether it’s the truth—and it probably is—or not, we Plain folk don’t set ourselves above anyone else.”
“I told my friends at school about Sarah and Rachel,” said Amber. “Some of their moms have started buying chickens and eggs from them. They agree that the taste is worth the extra trip.”
From the backseat, Kristen asked, “Can we buy some chickens from Sarah too?”
Donna peered at her younger daughter in the rearview mirror. “Yes, if Isaac has any ready for the freezer. I’ve had a hankering for Southern fried chicken with baked beans and a skillet of greens for weeks.”
“Fattening, Mom, fattening,” said Amber, always the teenager. “I’ll have mine grilled with the skin removed.”
Kristen leaned forward and put her small hand on Donna’s shoulder. “Not a chicken to cook. I want live chickens for pets. Dad could build a little house for them and fence in part of the yard. Each morning I could feed them dried corn and after school gather up eggs.”
Her young face glowed with so much enthusiasm Donna hated to break her bubble. “Why don’t you check with your father on this one? If you mention pet chickens, I have a feeling a dog from the pound will start to sound better and better.” Kristen grinned and leaned back, content for the rest of the ride.
Donna used the quiet that reigned in the car to appreciate perfect February weather. For the first time in days the clouds had cleared, revealing a blue sky that took her breath away. Bits of frost remained in shaded areas, but they would burn off by noon. Rolling fields, moist and brown, waited patiently for spring, when they would be tilled and planted in the endless cycle of death and rebirth. Donna had experienced her own miniature rebirth lately. She had been strengthened and renewed during her weeks of working with the Mennonites and Amish. Their simple faith had regenerated her own. She was even getting along better with her crusty boss—nothing short of a miracle.