Deep in thought, she caressed Caney’s long, sleek nose, whispering to him, forcing her thoughts onto other matters. She couldn’t deny how excited she was about the possibility of Gracie’s rental house working out for Kiana. How very different her life could be. . . . A whole new future.
Lucy heard footsteps and turned to look—it was Dale coming toward her, taller in the mix of light from the parking lot and the shadow where she stood. “Hullo,” she said.
“I saw you leave.” He reached to pet the horse. Their hands brushed lightly, and she pulled back. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m impatient to see how Kiana reacts to the news of the rental,” she said, diverting the conversation. Then, smiling, she said, “Really hope she comes to the food truck tomorrow.”
“Please remember that I want to help, Lucy.”
Thinking of their hands touching for that split second, she felt distracted.
Then Dale added, “Let me know when I can take Kiana and you to the car lot. Just call when you know for sure,” he said, reciting his cell number.
“So kind of you. Denki.”
They said good-bye, and shortly afterward, Lucy’s father came out of the church.
She moved to the carriage, sliding onto the front bench seat, glad for Dale’s willingness to assist with getting Kiana on her feet. He enjoys helping others. That’s all it is.
———
Lucy tensed as her father climbed in beside her and lifted the driving lines. She had felt this sort of stress around her father for years. Jah, since returning home from Ohio. Surely he was aware of it, too.
“You and Dale were alone in the parking lot,” he remarked as the carriage pulled out onto the road. “And the two of yous were out together last evening, too.”
“It’s nothin’, Dat,” she replied, hoping to settle this quickly. “Yesterday was about helpin’ Kiana.” She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them tight.
“I’m responsible for the care of your soul, Lucy. And I can’t help thinking ’bout your last experience with an outsider.”
Dat needn’t remind her of that.
He caught her eye. “Why is it that you gravitate toward men outside the church?”
She swallowed hard. “Dat, you brought Dale into our lives.”
“’Tis true, but you’re spendin’ too much time together. I see this with my own two eyes.”
Lucy bit her lip, resolutely determined not to clam up. That’s what I always do, she thought. And nothing ever gets solved.
“If you hadn’t sent me away, things would’ve turned out much differently.”
“Ach, Lucy,” her father muttered.
“And it was your idea to come to this grief group where people actually talk about their sorrow.”
“Daughter . . .”
“I want ya to hear me out, Dat.”
Her father hurried the horse. “We must trust such things to Gott’s sovereign will . . . and daresn’t question.”
Daresn’t question?
He continued. “I’m following Gott on this.”
A cork popped inside of her. “But you’re not God! Yet you destroyed my plans to marry my baby’s father . . . and it’s ruined everything since.”
“What I did was best for all concerned, including you,” Dat shot back, his shoulders rising as he drew a breath.
“Nee, it was so you could save face—not let it be known that your daughter had sinned with an Englischer.”
“Lucy, be thankful I spared ya from the Bann.”
“Maybe I’d be better off excommunicated.”
“Puh! You can’t mean that.” He shook his head. “When will ya learn to think before ya speak or act? When?”
Seething, Lucy said what she’d held inside too long, what she truly believed. “It was you, Dat. You and God caused my baby to die.” She took another breath, then let it out slowly. “My baby deserved the chance to be born.”
Her father gripped the lines tighter, staring straight ahead.
Lucy was shaking, but she’d finally had her say. And yet she wasn’t finished. “I’ve tried to get your approval, Dat—yours and God’s. I’ve tried to find forgiveness somehow, find some kind of peace . . . but whatever I do is never enough.”
Turning toward the window, she wanted to get out and walk home. The vast fields were dark as she looked out her side of the buggy, past the spot in the road where a single moment had nearly altered Abe Riehl’s family forever.
Quietly, she spoke again. “I’m not givin’ up my friendship with Dale just ’cause you made a mistake.”
Then, lest she make any further hot-tempered remarks, Lucy clamped her lips shut. She heard her father sigh, but he said nothing more.
Back home, Lucy fell onto her bed, clinging to a pillow. She burrowed her face in its softness and relived the day she’d first told her parents of her pregnancy. Oddly, it was Dat who had taken the more gentle approach with her, at least at first, when Lucy began revealing her and Travis’s elaborate wedding plans. Mamm, however, was full of questions, desperate to know more about the worldly young man Lucy had pledged to marry. Mamm’s eyes had teared up. “But you’ll be shunned!”
The mood in the house had fallen into one of concealed desperation. Lucy had felt so alone—and mortified—when her mother asked her to pack a few things a mere two days later. “You’re going to Ohio to help my cousin Sally for the time being,” Mamm had announced. At the time, Lucy was six weeks along in her pregnancy. I had no say in what was to happen to my wee babe.
Lucy rolled over on the bed, staring at the dresser on the opposite side of the room. I wanted to please Travis, she thought now, knowing full well she would have left the People for him. Anything to make him happy. Anything but end my pregnancy, that is. Oh, how I hoped he would warm up to the idea of being a father!
Dat had demanded that Lucy return the engagement necklace when he’d caught her coming in late one night, wearing it and her fancy clothes. And she’d tried to return it, but Travis insisted she keep it and sell it for money to use for the baby, since Lucy was bound and determined not to terminate the pregnancy . . . against his wishes.
Kind as Travis usually was, she could not understand how he was able to reject the result of their love—the tiny life growing within her. How? To this day, it plagued her. “Like Dat’s willingness to disown me if I didn’t submit to his way,” Lucy whispered, sitting up and going to the window.
She stared down onto the backyard, faint now in the golden light from the kitchen window. There, Travis had stood after dark, near the purple martin birdhouse. She had left her lantern on so he could see her waiting in the identical spot where she stood now. Travis had waved her down with his flashlight, much like an Amish beau attempting to get her attention by shining his light on her bedroom window. Only there was nothing honorable about what we did that night, consummating our affection.
She groaned at the thought of her disobedience, the wretched guilt she still carried like a never-ending weight. Lucy had made Travis the center of her life, yet she’d refused to abort their baby when he demanded it. How humiliating it had been to tell her appalled parents about her out-of-wedlock pregnancy.
We were going to be married, Lucy had told herself repeatedly after Dat put her on the bus. She had clenched her fists and jaw, watching for hours as the cities and the countryside rushed past in a blur. I felt so abandoned and alone.
At the time, she let her parents think she was in agreement with giving up the baby for adoption. But she harbored a secret in her heart and never told anyone but Martie the truth, only submitting in her initial actions as her father swept in and altered her future.
I had no intention of giving my baby away.
Chapter 33
HOURS LATER, LUCY WENT TO HER DESK and removed each of her journals—the ones where she’d recorded the good deeds and places where she’d given of her time and energy, noticing on every few pages the way she had expanded her volunteer work to i
nclude more and more.
More people to help . . . more to save. People like Kiana and little Van.
She fought back tears; she couldn’t sustain the pace of her daily life. It wasn’t as if God had called her to run herself into the ground. No, something else was driving her: Lucy wanted to crowd out the pain in her heart.
Drying her tears, she found little satisfaction in looking at the journals. Instead, there was a frantic sense of busyness, if not outright obligation. Burning the candle at both ends isn’t the answer, she thought miserably.
Lucy removed her Kapp, took down her waist-length hair, and brushed it vigorously. She thought of Lettie and Faye taking turns brushing each other’s hair and tried to be glad for their closeness. Who besides Martie could she confide in? Not Mamm, and certainly not Tobe, now that she’d pushed him away.
She outened the light and dressed for bed, then slipped under the covers, glad that tomorrow was a new day. Lucy pictured Kiana’s face, beaming with happiness. To think that Gracie Friesen’s comfortable little guesthouse could be hers for the taking! This, at least, was a small consolation as Lucy attempted to unwind. Too many emotions, too many hurts had been unearthed this evening.
———
“Something’s happenin’ with Lucy,” Christian told Sarah as they retired for the night, the room devoid of lantern light.
“She’s on edge all the time, ain’t so?” Sarah moved closer to him.
“I’m afraid it’s more than that.” He explained what had transpired during the buggy ride home.
“The poor girl.” Sarah rested her head on his shoulder. “She should’ve put this behind her already.”
He reached for the second quilt, trying to find the words to admit a truth. “Well, she’s right . . . I did push and push. Just when she needed us most, I pushed her right out the door.” He coughed. “Things didn’t start out that way, but my annoyance grew into something fierce and ugly, I admit that now. I poured my fury with Travis out onto Lucy.”
“All of this is comin’ to a head only now?”
“Seems so. I daresay Lucy’s bitterness has blocked any hope of resolution . . . or forgiveness. Things have taken a step back between her and me, I’ll say.”
“No wonder she’s been absent—visiting elsewhere or sick in bed—for every communion service since losin’ her baby.”
“Makes sense to Lucy, maybe, but it’s playin’ with fire,” Christian whispered, pondering the weight of it. “And here we have another fasting day comin’ up. Communion Sunday comes in a little over a week.”
“I really need to talk to her.” Sarah shifted slightly. “She can’t keep pretending all’s right with Gott and the church. Ain’t gut for her or for building unity amongst us, neither one.”
“But it’s treacherous to partake of communion when there’s unconfessed sin in one’s heart.” Christian knew well the New Testament verse about eating the bread and drinking the cup unworthily.
“A fearful thing,” Sarah whispered. “Which must be why Lucy has purposely stayed away.”
Christian was quiet.
“Should we both speak to her?” Sarah asked.
“Ain’t wise, not after Lucy’s outburst tonight.” He paused, wishing what he was about to say were not so. “And now there’s yet another Englischer lookin’ her way.”
“Your friend Dale?”
“It’s my fault for bringin’ him round in the first place.” He sighed and turned toward Sarah. “I was beginning to think Dale looked up to me, like he would to a father figure—his own dad passed away so recently.”
He hesitated to tell her more, then went ahead. “I caught them talkin’ in the parking lot tonight. Well, I shouldn’t say caught. They were quite open and unashamed ’bout it. Not like the other fella, who snuck around so.”
“Ach, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Sarah placed her hand on his chest. “I believe Lucy’s learned from her past mistakes. Truly, I do.”
“I’m counting on it.” Christian kissed Sarah’s cheek and began his silent rote prayers before letting sleep take him over.
Martie checked on Josh in his crib once more, having nursed him later than usual, trying to soothe him so Ray could sleep.
Walking the length of the hall, she stopped to peer out at the half-moon, then sat on the cane chair, the only piece of furniture in that corner. It had been another very busy day. Exhausting, really.
Slipping her hands around her middle, Martie caressed the tiny babies within her as she prayed.
She needed time to sit and relax before going to bed. She relived the events of the day, including the unexpected visit from Eppie, who’d fairly pranced into the house midafternoon, bringing her usual list of unsolicited ideas for Martie’s weekly column. Martie had merely smiled when the woman mentioned having seen Lucy with a fancy young man. “She got into his pickup truck, and they drove away together,” Eppie had said, shaking her head.
Martie had wondered aloud if perhaps Eppie had happened upon the buggy accident, when Lucy had gone with the Riehl children in Dale’s pickup.
“Nee, ’twas just last evening,” Eppie said, quite adamant that Lucy was the only one who could have possibly been sitting beside the outsider.
“Are ya sure you aren’t mistaken?”
Eppie’s crinkled cheeks turned pink. “I saw what I saw.” She described the tall, blond Englischer who had opened the door for Lucy, quite “gentlemanly like,” before they drove off toward the Old Philadelphia Pike. “I daresay it’s that fella who’s been spendin’ time with your father.”
“Have ya thought that maybe he was just giving Lucy a ride?” Martie hoped for an innocent explanation.
Eppie had looked at her like the idea was downright lecherich—laughable. “I think I know trouble when I see it.”
But what Eppie didn’t know was that Martie had already written a column about an outsider’s interest in learning the simple ways from the Amish round here. The Amish just down the road, in fact, Martie thought, wondering what Dat and others would think when they read about it tomorrow in The Budget.
Chapter 34
KIANA AND HER SON did not show up for Friday lunch, and Lucy stewed over this while cleaning up afterward.
How could I have missed them?
Then it hit her—of course they hadn’t come! Kiana and Van were enrolled at a shelter that included meals and other programs.
I have to find a way to the Water Street Mission. Considering it was market day in several locations, including the Green Dragon in Ephrata, Lucy realized she would have quite a wait before one of the paid drivers arrived. She went around and asked a few volunteers if she might get a ride with them once they returned to the Salvation Army with the food truck. Ken and Jan said they were sorry but had appointments. “Next time?” Ken said with a grimace. “Really sorry, Lucy.”
Thankfully, Laurita said she could drive Lucy there once they finished cleaning up.
Then Lucy remembered Dale’s standing invitation to help. She deliberated that for a few moments, certain he would want to meet her at the mission, if possible, to be there when Lucy gave Kiana the latest news.
Mustering up the nerve, Lucy asked Laurita if she could make a call for her, and next thing, Lucy was staring at a smartphone, unsure how to use it.
“Here’s what you do,” Laurita said, taking time to demonstrate. “Got it?”
Somehow, Lucy managed to punch in the numbers, and when Dale answered, his voice sounded so clear, it surprised her. “Hullo?” she said. “It’s Lucy Flaud. I’m calling from downtown Lancaster.” She filled him in on her plan.
“I’m actually headed that way now—need to drop something off on the way. After that, I can meet you at the mission.”
“That’s great,” she said. “I’ll see you there.”
She smiled as she clicked off and returned the phone, pleased by her decision to call. “Denki so much, Laurita.” She felt her face flush.
“Whoa! Did I save your l
ife or something?” Laurita pushed the phone into her jeans pocket.
“I just feel so happy for one of the homeless young women we used to serve food to. Do ya remember Kiana?”
Laurita said she did, still eyeing Lucy suspiciously.
“I’ve got the best news for her—an honest-to-goodness answer to prayer.”
Turning to the cleanup at hand, Lucy could hardly stop smiling.
Kiana’s face shone like a Christmas candle. “I can’t believe this . . . I really can’t.” Pumping her fists, she looked from Lucy to Dale. “It’s the best news I’ve had in, like, forever!”
Lucy gave her a hug, caught up in Kiana’s enthusiasm.
The three of them made plans to visit the Friesens this coming Sunday afternoon. Kiana said she could get a ride there, if Dale could bring her and Van home, and Dale agreed to do that. “I’ll meet you at Gracie’s,” Lucy offered.
After Kiana returned to the shelter, Lucy exclaimed to Dale that being able to help her friend was a reminder of just how much she herself took for granted.
“Don’t we all?” Dale nodded as they stood near the entrance. “We appreciate the essentials most when we’ve lost them.”
“I sometimes wonder what the Lord thinks when He looks down from on High and notices things like this.”
“Notices?” Dale said as they began to walk. “He’s behind it all, orchestrating these blessings.”
She considered that, eager to be God’s hands and feet here on earth. “Days like this make me want to be in many different places at once, ya know? But I can’t do it all.”
Dale added, “That’s why we look to our Creator, who is everywhere present.”
“Dawdi Flaud used to talk ’bout things like that.” She paused. “He once told me, in the midst of a miserable day, that God knows the end from the beginning for each of us . . . and He knows the middle, too, when we’re discouraged and can hardly keep our heads above water.”
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