The Atonement

by Beverly Lewis

  Scuffing his feet, Christian moved into the area of the stable, his pulse heightened and jaw clenched. How ridiculous it was to feel anxious around the daughter he’d once been so at ease with!

  She looked his way but kept working the rubber curry brush from the horse’s neck to its rear, loosening the dirt.

  He leaned both arms on the door to Sunshine’s stall. “Is this a gut time to talk about the necklace?” He had no idea what she was thinking other than what little she’d spouted to him earlier. . . . And as we walked into the community church, no less!

  At first, Lucy didn’t respond, but her motions became more determined . . . rigorous. Finally, she spoke. “I hope you don’t intend to talk me out of what I want to do.”

  Startled by her outspoken manner, Christian considered turning tail and talking with her another time. “Ach, Lucy . . . the necklace is yours to keep, sell, or give away as you see fit.”

  Lucy switched to the currycomb, working through Sunshine’s mane till it was smooth and gleaming. “Mamm thought I should get your wisdom first, before deciding to give away whatever I might get for it.” Lucy paused and shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense for me to keep a necklace I no longer want . . . and shouldn’t have accepted in the first place. Not when the money could possibly change someone’s life—someone who needs more than her family will give.”

  Christian watched Lucy tend to the horse. “If you’re settled about this, I won’t stand in your way.”

  “Tomorrow, after I finish at Martie’s, I’ll hire a driver to take me to the jewelry store to get an appraisal, maybe sell it outright.”

  “Will you be okay . . . goin’ alone?” His heart went out to her.

  She took her time before she spoke again. “I’m always alone in here.” She tapped her temple. “No one else understands.”

  Her admission took Christian by surprise. “Oh, Lucy, other women have suffered, too—”

  “I’m not them, Dat! I couldn’t just bounce back after Travis rejected the baby growin’ in me . . . and then you called off the wedding.”

  “Lucy,” Christian said firmly. “Genunk—enough!”

  Flinching, Lucy pressed her lips together, as if to keep any further words inside.

  “It’s time for us to slam the door on the past,” Christian declared. “Dredging this up now can’t solve anything.”

  Eyes glistening, Lucy looked at him again, her chin raised. She slipped around to the other side of Sunshine and set to work once more. “You wanted Travis to become Amish for me . . . for my baby’s sake.”

  “It was the only right way for you to marry him.”

  “That was never the plan, though.” Lucy shook her head. “I wanted to go fancy for him, Dat. To join his world. Not the other way around.”

  Christian felt the air go out of him, yet he understood. He, too, had flirted with the idea of leaving the Old Order Amish church as a youth. “You must’ve loved him very much. . . .”

  “It’s so hard to rehash all this, Dat.”

  He saw the red rising from Lucy’s neck into her face. “I’m honestly sorry I pushed the father of your child away. But I’m not sorry you remained with the People.”

  She shook her head. “It felt so cruel . . . cut off from everyone I loved, and who loved me.”

  Christian drew a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. This was the most Lucy had spoken of that devastating time, the most she’d talked to him about anything in years. “Ain’t easy to think ’bout those days and months. Not for me, nor your mother. And certainly not for you, Lucy.”

  When he was rather sure she would not say more, Lucy glanced at him, then away.

  He turned to go. “I’d better call it a night.”

  “Jah, Mamm will wonder what’s keepin’ ya.”

  He nodded. Lucy was absolutely right.

  ———

  Lucy watched as her father trudged off. He, too, was still stuck in the mire of yesterday.

  Dawdi Flaud had passed away just days after Lucy was put on a bus for Cherry Valley, Ohio, to stay with her mother’s distant cousin Sally. Her misery was heightened by having missed out on the funeral.

  She cringed as she recalled Dat’s mention that “other women have suffered, too.” Could he possibly have realized how offensive it sounded?

  Oh, and she had suffered, trying her best to be brave when confronted with the loss of the baby no one seemed to want but her. And when she eventually did come home, she was expected to resume her usual cheery attitude. “For the sake of your twin sisters . . . and everyone else who is better off not knowing,” her father had told her after the long bus ride home.

  She had been ever so compliant upon her return, willing to abide by his and Mamm’s mandate never to reveal her secret to anyone but the brethren. So very eager had she been to remain in East Lampeter . . . where she had finally understood she belonged.

  Where my heart was supposed to heal, given enough time.

  Lucy patted Sunshine’s silky neck and lifted each leg to pick out the stones in her hooves, letting her tears fall onto the bedding straw below.

  When she was finished, she left the stall to put away the grooming implements. “I know one thing, and I know it with all my heart,” Lucy whispered as she walked out of the stable and past the hen house. “If I had a daughter who needed my love at a desperate time, I would never push her out the door! Ni net!”

  Chapter 23

  BEFORE BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING, Christian welcomed his three eldest—Ammon, James, and Solomon—inside for coffee, out of the heavy rainstorm. Sarah was still upstairs dressing, and Christian had come down to read his Bible and drink his first cup of coffee when the back door opened and in they walked, soaked from head to toe.

  “It’s makin’ down mighty hard,” Ammon said, removing his straw hat over the sink while James and Solomon were still shaking out their jackets in the mud room.

  But the weather seemed to be the last thing on his sons’ minds. “There’s talk that some families are thinkin’ of moving to the San Luis Valley in Colorado,” Ammon said when they all sat down at the table.

  “You can’t really blame folk,” James said, twiddling his thick thumbs. “After all, it’s a schmaert idea for families needing land for their courting-age children to broaden their horizons.”

  “There’s plenty-a land there,” Sol agreed as he got up and poured coffee for his brothers.

  The younger serves the older. Christian smiled.

  “Is this somethin’ you and Mamm would ever consider doin’?” asked Sol, bringing the full mugs to Ammon and James.

  “Moving has never crossed my mind,” Christian replied.

  “I thought maybe since Lucy and the twins are still single, and it doesn’t look like they’ve got serious beaus yet, well . . .”

  “Oh, there’re enough young Amishmen here locally.” Christian raised the mug to his lips. “Besides, your mother is content here . . . and we have your Mammi Flaud to look after.”

  This seemed to satisfy Sol and Ammon, but James asked, “What if I was to pull up stakes with my family and go? What would ya think of that?”

  Ammon and Sol began to murmur between themselves.

  “Listen, son, nobody’s gonna stop you from doin’ God’s will, if that’s where He’s leading ya,” Christian said. “But I daresay you should beseech the heavenly Father for His blessing before going ahead with such a sweeping decision.”

  James nodded and glanced at his brothers. “I wouldn’t think of doin’ otherwise. You taught us well, Dat.”

  “All right, then, let’s talk this through,” Christian said, rising to get some sticky buns leftover from yesterday. Then, bringing them over on a plate, he set it down, still standing at the head of the table. “Is this something you’ve also tossed round with Reuben and Ezra?” Christian was mighty curious what his other sons might be thinking about all this, especially when they hadn’t shown up here, too. How had what seemed to be a rather private ma
tter spread so quickly . . . and to his own sons? That Amish grapevine! he thought, knowing Deacon Ed had surely anticipated this.

  Ammon was nodding his head, his bush of a beard touching his chest. “Ezra thinks the families making noises ’bout leaving are Dummkepp, to put it plainly. He wonders if they’re disgruntled over something.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

  “’Tis a reason why some new start-up settlements wither and die in only a few years,” Christian said. “And if at least a dozen or so families aren’t recruited to a new settlement within a decent timeframe, then very likely others will steer clear of joinin’ them, for fear of failing. There’s just too much at stake.”

  “Ain’t any common discontent amongst the People round here that I know of,” James observed.

  Ammon and Solomon nodded their heads.

  “Reuben wishes Godspeed to Jerry Glick and the others goin’. But he’s also mentally filing the possibility for down the road at some point. So’s Ray,” added Sol.

  “Is that right?” Christian said, surprised.

  “Well, I doubt Martie knows anything ’bout it,” James piped up.

  “She’d be upset, to say the least.” Christian couldn’t imagine one of his daughters going out to the wild West. He dismissed it as something that sensible Ray Zook would never consider.

  “It’s comin’ close to the time to divide up our district—nearly too many folk to fit into one house for Preaching anymore. But if a few families do end up leavin’, we could push that off,” James said.

  Christian reached for a sticky bun. “Hadn’t even thought of that.”

  “My guess is the bishop has,” Sol suggested with a chuckle.

  “Well, he may lose some of the older, more established families, though. Jerry, for example—his family’s been round here for generations,” Ammon pointed out.

  This jolted Christian, recalling Sarah’s whispers that Tobe had asked Lucy to court. Surely Tobe didn’t ask her to go to Colorado with him and his family!

  He tuned out his sons’ talk, lost in thought until Sarah appeared in the doorway and set to work making breakfast.

  Lucy was itching to get to Martie’s early that Saturday morning. She donned her old black raincoat with the hood to keep her black outer bonnet dry, politely refusing her father’s offer to take her in the family buggy. As she guessed would happen, her shoes and socks got sopping wet on the way over on her scooter. Thankfully, she’d brought along dry socks, thinking ahead especially to the trip to the jewelry store that afternoon.

  Since she knew precisely what Martie wanted done, Lucy began polishing four sets of black church shoes for the family, who would be going to visit Ray’s parents tomorrow for his father’s birthday. All of Ray’s ten siblings and their families would be present, Martie told her while Lucy worked, Jesse chiming in about going to visit Dawdi and Mammi Zook.

  “Be sure to go out and see the piggies when you’re there,” Lucy told Jesse.

  “Huss Sau!” Jesse gave the pig call that Ray, no doubt, had taught him, and she laughed, glad to see her young nephew in such good spirits.

  Along with redding up the house, Lucy also entertained the boys in the kitchen, the rain pattering against the windowpanes while Martie baked a three-layer German chocolate cake for her father-in-law. The kitchen felt cozy, what with the stormy weather and the sweet aroma of the baking dessert.

  Later, when Martie had a chance to get off her feet for a few minutes, she asked Lucy, “What do ya think if I include in my column something ’bout the chatter of families moving west?”

  “Maybe it’d be wise to wait and see if anyone actually goes,” Lucy suggested.

  Martie frowned quizzically. “Do ya think some might back out?”

  “Well, it’s possible things will change.” Lucy thought of Tobe, who should receive her letter today, if the postman wasn’t delayed by the driving rain.

  Nodding, Martie agreed. “I just thought it’d make for some interesting reading.”

  Lucy smiled. “You’re always lookin’ for the next big thing to report round here, ain’t so, sister? Like journalists out there in the world.”

  Martie gave her a sideways glance. “How would ya know that?”

  Lucy caught herself. “Oh, I can imagine it, can’t I?” But the truth was, during the year she and Travis had spent time together, she’d seen television shows at his townhouse—including some news. But there was no sense in bringing that up.

  She glanced over at her pocketbook hanging on a wooden peg, the necklace tucked inside. Time to say good-bye . . .

  When he found a free half hour that rainy morning, Christian took the horse and carriage up to Jerry Glick’s farm, interested to find out if his lifelong friend had truly decided to pull up stakes and move to Colorado.

  He found Jerry in the milk house scrubbing down the equipment, including the bulk tank, singing loudly. Christian pitched in to help, remarking about the muddy road on the way over there.

  “If you’re really thinkin’ of going west, I s’pose you’ll have just the opposite—less rain, more wind.”

  “Even times of drought, from what I’m gathering,” Jerry said, his old straw hat perched on his head. “Although drought was one reason why an early attempt at settling in Cheyenne County disbanded way back in 1914. The community of Wild Horse folded after only five years. Things are working out better for the folk in the San Luis Valley, however.”

  “Sounds mighty challenging.”

  “Guess we’ll find out. And there’s always irrigation, if necessary.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it will be. Can’t grow much in a desert, ya know.” Christian glanced at Jerry. “S’pose the inducement is the land, jah?”

  Jerry nodded, and when they’d finished cleaning, he motioned for Christian to have a look at his new foals.

  Christian was impressed. “I might be interested in buying these from ya, whenever you’re ready.”

  Laughing, Jerry assured him. “I’ll give ya first pick, how’s that? Unless Tobe stays and takes over the farm. . . . He’s still deciding that.”

  “Oh?” Christian looked around the stable, still finding it hard to believe his old friend wanted to uproot his family. But this tidbit Jerry had dropped about Tobe was news. “Mighty glad you’ll still be round through the fall and winter,” he said, wondering if Jerry might say more about his plan.

  “Ain’t a reasonable time to move the family, that’s certain.”

  “Nee, you’re right on that,” Christian said. “Let me know how I can help out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Christian said he should get back to work and headed to his carriage in the rain. He noticed Tobe pulling into the lane in his father’s enclosed buggy.

  Tobe waved to Christian, who stopped to talk a bit. “It’s makin’ down right gut now,” Tobe said, dipping his head politely, always respectful to his elders.

  Tobe mentioned that their English neighbor to the south was looking for some help putting on a new roof this coming Wednesday.

  “With my brothers, two uncles, and a few other Amish neighbors, I think we’ve nearly got a full crew. We’ll knock it out in a day or so.”

  “I’m not a young buck anymore, but I can throw down a few shingles if need be. Maybe get Lucy to provide some refreshments.”

  Tobe brightened. “Think she could spare the time?”

  Christian laughed. “Hard to say anymore, considering how much time she spends on all her charities.”

  A strong wind rattled the leaves, and Tobe seemed momentarily lost for words. “Well,” he said slowly, “you can’t really fault Lucy for wanting to help folk. She has a gut heart.”

  In that instant, Christian was reminded of why he’d often felt as connected to Jerry’s gem of a son as he did to his own boys. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, then bid Tobe good-bye, his heart heavy at Lucy’s rejecting his offer to court.

  To think they might’ve married already if Travis hadn’t c
ome along. . . .

  Lucy was thankful for such a pleasant and grandfatherly jeweler to assist her midmorning, when she quietly revealed that her fiancé had purchased the necklace less than four years ago. “I’ve scarcely worn it, and I’d like to sell it today.”

  Nodding cordially, the white-haired gentleman reached for his jeweler’s loupe and held it up to one eye. Leaning forward, he took his time examining the solitaire diamond for its size, color, and quality.

  Lucy had decided on the ride over in the Mennonite driver’s van to accept whatever amount might be offered. It wasn’t her nature to haggle over price.

  The jeweler looked at her with kind, even sympathetic eyes as he lowered the loupe and placed the necklace carefully on a navy blue velvet cloth. “This is a remarkable gem—a brilliant stone with no flaws,” he said. “The gold is also of exceptional quality. Are you sure you want to give up this fine piece of jewelry?”

  “Jah,” she assured him. “I’m ready.”

  “It is, after all, a very large stone for . . . such a Plain girl.”

  Lucy had thought much the same when Travis had presented her with the piece, but she was grateful now, because it would probably mean more money for Kiana.

  “I would be remiss if I didn’t say that you could get more for its value if you received a credit toward another purchase here in the store.”

  She shook her head. “Denki—er, thank you for the offer, but I don’t need any other jewelry.” She really just wanted to be done with this.

  “One other suggestion, miss, if I may: You could easily get more for this necklace than I’m authorized to give if you—or someone you know—could advertise it on eBay or Craigslist.”

  “Well, I don’t have access to any of that.”

  When Lucy signed her name to the agreement and, later, when the kind jeweler gave her a check, she had a sense of severing the last ties to Travis, and it felt ever so good. She could hardly wait to deposit the funds into her checking account. To satisfy her mother’s wishes, she planned to put a portion into the alms box somehow or other, even if she didn’t attend the Sunday the devout observed communion and the afternoon foot-washing service. Lucy shuddered to think that yet another six months had come and gone, and her heart was not right with the church. Or the Lord God.