“Don’t we all need someone to care enough to point us in the right direction sometimes?” Dale asked.
She walked farther with him, toward the parking lot. “It’ll be wunnerbaar-gut to introduce Kiana and her son to my Mennonite friends.”
“Wunnerbaar-gut, indeed.”
This made her smile. “You speak gut Deitsch.”
When she found herself standing in front of his pickup truck, she realized they had fallen into conversation without her really meaning to.
“I could drop by for you on Sunday, if you’d like,” Dale suggested, putting his foot on the driver’s-side running board.
Lucy thanked him for his courtesy. “I appreciate that, Dale, but I can easily meet you there.”
She walked back toward the front door of the mission, where her regular driver was already awaiting her, thanks to the quick call she’d placed earlier.
On the ride back to East Lampeter, Lucy was quiet, not participating in the chatter of the other Amishwomen in the van. Instead, she thought of Tobe, wishing she might share the joy she felt for Kiana. Too soon Tobe would exit her life . . . for a new one in Colorado—or so she assumed.
What will my life be like without him? she wondered, wishing she didn’t have to find out.
Chapter 35
THE ROOSTER’S CROWING penetrated the predawn silence as Lucy dressed quickly that Saturday. She brushed her hair and wound it into a neat, tight bun, securing it with bobby pins before tying a dark blue kerchief around her head.
She had a hankering to surprise Mammi Flaud. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gone over to cook breakfast next door before heading up the road to help Martie.
The gas lamp already lit the kitchen area with a warm glow as Lucy crept inside the small outer room and hung her jacket on the only empty peg. She heard talking, and going around the corner, she saw Lettie sitting with their grandmother at the table. It looked as though her sister was crying, her hair in a loose bun uncovered by either a scarf or Kapp. The pink candy dish, half full of sweets, was set within Lettie’s close reach.
“Ach, I’ll come back later,” Lucy said when Mammi looked up and spotted her.
“Ain’t necessary.” Mammi waved her in. “Your sister could use some extra attention.”
“I’ll make some waffles, then,” Lucy said, wondering why Lettie looked so glum. “Okay with you, sister?”
Lettie nodded her head.
“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mammi said, getting up.
Lucy stood next to Lettie and touched her shoulder. “Maybe some breakfast will make ya feel better.” She said what their mother often suggested when one of them was down in the dumps.
Lettie moaned softly but didn’t say what was troubling her.
Lucy slipped over to the counter to work alongside Mammi, gathering the ingredients for the waffles, then mixing the batter by hand. In just a few minutes, they moved to the stove, their movements as practiced as when Lucy helped her mother cook. All the while, Lucy was aware of Lettie’s occasional sniffs and gloomy expression. Poor thing. And she could see that the candies in the beautiful dish were disappearing quickly.
“Oughta be a nice sunny day,” Mammi said, turning down the gas under the scrambled eggs so they wouldn’t stick.
Looking out the window and seeing the lights still on at the neighboring farmhouse across the field, Lucy agreed. “Daylight sure is scarce now that we’re into October,” she said.
“How quickly we forget from one year to the next.” Mammi peppered the eggs and glanced over her shoulder at Lettie. “You all out of sweets, honey-girl?”
Lettie grinned and even giggled a little. “Too much sugar makes me a bit silly.”
“Well, better’n crying, I daresay.” Mammi laughed as she moved the eggs around in the frying pan. “How close are we, Lucy?”
“Just a few minutes more.” She removed the second waffle and poured more batter on the waffle iron, then closed the lid.
When they were ready, Lucy and Mammi carried the food over and sat down with Lettie. Mammi bowed her head for the silent prayer, and Lucy and her sister followed her lead. Lucy thanked God for the delicious breakfast before them and prayed that all would go well tomorrow for Kiana at the Friesens’. And she tucked in a prayer for Lettie, too.
“Amen,” Mammi said, lifting her head. “Now then, dig in, girls. There’s a-plenty.”
“Did ya tell Mamm you were comin’ here?” Lettie asked, wiping her eyes with a paper napkin.
“Nee, did you?”
“Ach, she’ll guess,” Mammi said. “Where else would yous be this early?”
Lucy scanned the living area, her gaze lingering on Dawdi’s old chair, which Mammi had brought with her when she’d moved there. “Remember how that itty-bitty dog you used to have would sit at Dawdi’s knee and plead for a treat?”
“Oh, do I ever. Ruby could beg with her eyes like nobody’s business. And, oh, that little head and ears . . . soft as silk,” Mammi said. “Too bad I gave her away, after—”
“Ruby sure had a noisy bark for such a small pet,” Lettie interrupted, perking up at the talk of the cute pup.
“Your Dawdi and Ruby were a jovial pair,” added Mammi. “Not that Ruby didn’t care for me, too.”
Lettie smiled, her lips parting. “I still miss Dawdi’s smile,” she said, tears welling up again. “And the way he talked so gratefully ’bout the Lord.”
Lucy caught herself nodding as her sister poured more syrup on her waffles.
“You’ll have a sugar high for sure unless you eat more eggs to offset all that. Maybe I should fry up some bacon, too,” Mammi suggested.
Lettie rose and poured milk for everyone, including a tall glass for herself. “Cryin’ makes me hungry.”
“You gonna be all right?” Lucy asked.
“Guess so. We all get over bein’ jilted eventually, jah?” Lettie forced a smile. “Sorry for braggin’ like I did last Sunday, comin’ back from Ammon and Sylvia’s. I spoke too soon about the Mast boys—must have had this comin’.” She explained that Matthew had decided he didn’t much like double-dating with twins. “Maybe we weren’t acting mature enough . . . cutting up, ya know. Who knows?”
“Well, the two of yous together can be double trouble,” Mammi teased. “And with twins bein’ courted by brothers who could pass for twins . . . well, who’s to say your Matthew ain’t right?”
“He’s not my Matthew anymore.”
Mammi looked Lucy’s way, her eyes concerned. “You know there are other fellas in the district who’ll treat ya better,” encouraged Mammi.
Lettie shrugged and cried some more. And Lucy reached across the table to squeeze her hand.
Christian sat on the church bench with all of his sons during Preaching. It wasn’t hard to keep his mind on the first sermon, which lasted twenty-five minutes and introduced the theme of humility for the second sermon to come. The congregation of the People silently prayed the Lord’s Prayer as they knelt at their benches following the first sermon. Then the second preacher stood before them and began to pace as he read James four, verse ten: “‘Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.’” After the squabble with Lucy on Thursday, Christian’s heart was particularly attuned to the message therein.
During the testimonies afterward, Christian contemplated Lucy’s startling admission. The fact that she still carried resentment toward him wasn’t good for her, nor for him. I never meant to banish her like she thinks.
There had been much more behind the decision to send her so abruptly to Ohio. Just till she gave up the baby for adoption, he recalled. Sarah’s and my decision. Yet who could have known that Lucy would lose her tiny babe at just nine weeks into the pregnancy?
Christian had never found any comfort in that. The miscarriage had ultimately spared Lucy from having to live life as a Maidel, yet his daughter had been no more inclined to date anyone in the years since her return than visit the man in the moon.
&
nbsp; I must talk more candidly with her, he decided, hoping it might help clear things up between them.
Together with the other menfolk, Christian helped to convert the wide-open gathering room into a temporary dining area. A third or so of the benches were altered to create tables while the rest were put into place for seating. There were chunks of cheese and peanut butter spread, and thick homemade bread—simple fare, to be sure, but it was what they were accustomed to. Bountiful bowls of pickles—sweet and dill—graced the ends of each table, and there was plentiful snitz pie.
Bishop came and sat next to him as Christian was thinking about pouring another cup of coffee. Bishop Smucker was eager to talk. “I made Jerry Glick an offer on his dairy farm. Want it for my eldest grandson,” he said, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie.
Surprised, Christian said, “Didn’t realize it was on the market just yet.”
The bishop indicated that Jerry had hoped to avoid listing it with a real estate agent. “It’s wise to keep our farms tied up with Amish, ya know.”
“Agreed,” Christian said, his mind stuck on the apparent fact that Tobe had decided to go west with his family.
“You and Sarah are stayin’ put, jah?” Bishop looked him in the eye.
“I have no plans to move anywhere till the Lord calls me Home.”
Bishop Smucker slapped him on the back. “Gut to hear, Bruder. And I don’t say that lightly.”
Later, on the way out to the stable with James and Solomon, Christian noticed Lucy standing near the potting shed with Lettie, their heads together. It was unusual to see them together without Faye.
Does Lucy know Tobe’s decided to leave?
———
“I’m real sorry you’re sad over Matthew Mast,” Lucy told Lettie as they hung back away from the other young women waiting to go in for the shared meal.
“Not sure why I wept in front of Mammi Flaud yesterday.” Lettie shook her head.
“She loves ya, Lettie. We all do.”
Lettie looked at her suddenly. “You’re ever so sisterly today. Yesterday too.”
“Well, you’re hurting.”
Lettie was quiet for a moment. “Not to be rude, but it seems this is the only time you reach out, Lucy.”
“What do ya mean?”
“Just that you seem to jump over hay bales to help people who are down and out.” Lettie shook her head. “Do I have to be this needy for you to pay me any mind?”
Startled, Lucy wondered, Is this true?
“Oh, Lettie, I do care about you. And Faye, too. I’m sorry I don’t show it more.”
Lettie gave her a small smile. “Still, I worry ’bout ya, sister. Who do you run to when things are crumblin’ round your feet?”
Lucy felt flustered by the question. “It’s always been Martie for me . . . much like you go to Faye.”
Shrugging, Lettie sighed. “Right now, Faye and I are on the outs—she thinks Matthew wouldn’t have broken up with me if I hadn’t said certain things.”
“Well, what do you think ’bout that?” Lucy asked gently, not wanting to spoil this rare moment between them.
“Ach, Lucy, I don’t know what got into me last night after die Youngie gathered over at the deacon’s for apple dumplings.” Lettie sniffled. “Am I really outspoken enough to run a fella off?”
Lucy bit her tongue. No need to add insult to injury. “Try to remember what Mamm says: There are plenty of nice Amish boys just waitin’ for your perty smile to catch their eye.”
Wrinkling her nose, Lettie reached for Lucy’s hand. “You’re kinder than me, Lucy, and always have been.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry if I offended ya.” Lettie leaned closer. “Forgive me?”
Lucy squeezed her hand. “I’m glad ya didn’t mince words. Honest, I am.”
Chapter 36
WHEN THE FAMILY HAD ARRIVED HOME from church, Mamm approached Lucy and asked if they might talk privately, so Lucy suggested they go upstairs to her room.
In the quiet of the sunny space, her mother sat on the rocking chair near the window, motioning for Lucy to sit nearby. Lucy could only imagine what was on her mind.
“Your father and I talked following your, uh, discussion after this past week’s grief class,” Mamm began. “We’re both concerned that you haven’t been attending communion Sundays since—”
“Mamm . . .”
Her mother’s eyes were sad, not accusing. “My dear, it’s one thing to hide your guilt from your family but quite another to hide from the ministerial brethren.”
Lucy glanced about her, suddenly wishing the door was closed. No need for Lettie and Faye to overhear. She rose to shut the door soundly. “My heart’s still in pieces, Mamm. I can’t think of takin’ communion and bringing more tribulation on myself.”
Her mother fell silent and turned toward the windows. She sighed heavily, obviously at a loss for words.
“This is something I’ve pondered many times. I just don’t know how to move past my sin.”
Mamm gazed at her. “My dear, it’s the Lord alone who forgives.”
Lucy sighed. “I really don’t see how I can find a way to make things right, though.”
Mamm looked dejected. “It’s not in your power to redeem yourself. Just ain’t possible.”
The comment hit home, crashing down on Lucy’s head as her mother rose and left the room. Dat . . . and now Mamm, too, she thought, knowing it was wrong to go for communion, considering the state of her heart.
Lucy felt uneasy as she got on her scooter and left the house for Bud and Gracie Friesens’ later. The afternoon sun had burned the blue from the sky, and the neighbors’ woodshed and the corncrib looked dark, even withered, beneath its intensity, despite a bank of dark clouds to the west. She noticed the field corn belonging to the neighboring English farmers had already been harvested, whereas many of the Amish farmers were still in the process. Most will probably finish up this week.
As she turned into the Friesens’ long lane, she spotted Dale, who waved. He was standing outside with Kiana and Van, talking with Bud and Gracie. It delighted Lucy to see Gracie already so engaged with Kiana. She parked her scooter and hurried to join them near the cottage-like guesthouse.
Bud was doting on little Van, letting him pick up one of the barn kittens as the five of them walked over to the white guesthouse with dark green shutters. Kiana pointed out how pretty the golden mums were in pots along the small front porch. “This reminds me of my childhood home,” she told Gracie, smiling over her shoulder at Lucy.
The lovely refuge might just be the salve Kiana’s broken heart needs, Lucy thought. And having Bud and Gracie nearby will be an added blessing. . . .
———
After the short tour of the house, Kiana seemed ready to sign on the dotted line, but Bud said her word was her bond, and after she said yes to their conditions, they shook hands to agree. “You may move in whenever you’re ready,” Bud said, looking nearly Amish, minus a beard, in his Sunday clothing, including tan suspenders.
“I never dreamed my son and I would live in such a peaceful place,” Kiana said, adding that she didn’t have much to bring with her. “I’ll need to get a part-time job to buy some furniture and things.”
Gracie’s face burst into a smile. “Say, our neighbors next farm over are looking for a babysitter three afternoons a week. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if your son tagged along.”
“Oh, I’d be interested in doing something like that! Yes, that would really help,” Kiana said, reaching down to hug Van. “This is the pot of gold at the end of our rainbow,” she told him, and he clapped his hands. She quickly explained it was one of his favorite bedtime stories.
“No gold-filled pots round here,” Bud said with a laugh. “But there’s an unlimited supply of God’s grace.”
Kiana nodded, eyes glistening. “Even better.”
A sudden wind blew up, and it began to rain. They moved onto the small p
orch, and Gracie and Kiana made arrangements for the move to take place tomorrow, with Bud’s help.
Bud handed Kiana a key. “Though we never lock our own doors.”
When Kiana was ready to go, Van dawdled, already attached to the gray barn kitty. Gracie assured him he’d have plenty of time to play outdoors. “Our farm is your home now, too,” she said.
With a strong downpour settling over them, Dale asked Lucy if she might like to ride with him to take Kiana and Van back to the shelter. “You’ll stay dry,” he said, eyeing the scooter.
Lucy agreed, hoping this wouldn’t upset her mother, as last Sunday’s ride with Dale certainly had. It wasn’t her intention to defy the church ordinance or her parents’ wishes.
Dale put the scooter in the bed of his truck, and the four of them climbed inside, Kiana and Van in the pull-down benches on either side behind the front seat.
As Dale drove toward Lancaster, Lucy brought up the fact that she and Dale had gone last week to look at used cars. “We wanted to find one that might work for you, Kiana.”
Kiana frowned, obviously puzzled, and Lucy said she wanted to give her the money for a down payment.
“You’ve already done so much,” Kiana protested.
“I insist.” Lucy smiled and reached back to squeeze her hand. “It would mean so much to me.”
Dale glanced at his rearview mirror. “Perhaps you could view this as sort of a heavenly gift.”
Kiana relented and said she would only accept the money if she could write Lucy an IOU. “It may take a while, but I will pay you back.”
Lucy stood her ground. “A gift is a gift.”
Later, after they’d taken Kiana and Van back to the Water Street Mission for their last night, Lucy thanked Dale for intervening. “I honestly wasn’t sure she’d accept.”
The rain was still heavy as Dale pulled into a coffee shop and parked. “Hope you don’t mind if we stop here for a quick caffeine fix.” He grabbed an umbrella and hurried around to open her door, holding the umbrella to keep her from getting soaked. Inside the coffee shop, the aroma of espresso greeted them as they got in line.
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