Please, Gott, let that happen just as it has every other morning.…
Back at the house, they stepped into the mud porch, hung up the rain gear, and dried off. Inside, they found Lovina on the couch, sandwiched by two sleeping boys who leaned against her.
She held up the book in her lap. “I was reading them Bible stories, and suddenly, they got very quiet.”
Jonah squatted down beside his brother. “They had a long day.”
“Any news?” Mamm asked, her eyes alight with hope.
“Someone in town warned them about the storm,” Jonah said.
“Rebecca, Daniel, and Hannah are going to stay in the office over the harness shop,” Annie explained. “Susie and Leah are with them. They plan to stay through tomorrow’s work and return home in the afternoon.”
Lovina nodded. “I thought as much. Any word from Aaron?”
Annie shook her head. “No message from Dat.”
“He must have taken cover somewhere along the way,” Lovina said. “Maybe in Paradise, or at a friend’s farmhouse.”
Jonah lifted Sam into his arms and straightened, hitching the sleeping boy over his shoulder. “Where should I put this one?”
“Upstairs,” Lovina said as Levi shifted and snuggled against her. “You and Sam can sleep in Sarah’s old room.”
“I’ll show you,” Annie offered.
“And I’ll get this one to bed.” Lovina rose from the couch and turned to scoop Levi into her arms. The small boy was lighter than Sam, so it was no problem for her.
“Kumm.” Annie took a small lantern and led the way upstairs. Away from the fire of the living room there was a chill in the air. Autumn was here. Inside Sarah’s old bedroom she turned down the quilt and stood back to watch as Jonah tucked his little brother in.
“He might want an extra blanket.” She took a warm blanket from the closet and spread it over the sleeping boy’s feet.
“That’s good,” Jonah said quietly.
When he bent over to kiss Sam on the forehead, she felt a pang of tenderness for this man who had lost his father but still knew how to care for a child. Jonah would be a fine father someday.
A wonderful good dat.
FORTY
It was a vigil of sorts; waiting for Aaron’s carriage to turn down the lane. Jonah knew Aaron would have looked for a place to stay the night, but not knowing that he was safe kept everyone on edge.
Annie stood at the front window, hugging herself as she stared into the darkness. Behind her, Jonah sat quietly, his fingertips pressed to his mouth as he considered distracting Annie.
“There’s no need for all of us to stay up all night,” Lovina said as she gathered the children’s books into a neat stack and tucked them away on the shelf. “Why don’t you two get some sleep? Jonah? Don’t feel obliged to stay up waiting.”
“Denki. When I’m tired, I’ll go up.”
“And you, too, Annie.” She slid an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “He’ll be along soon. Don’t you worry.”
Annie hugged her mamm. “I’ll just feel so much better to see him arrive home.”
“Well, if he’s staying off the road at someone’s place, you’re going to be up all night.” Lovina patted her daughter’s shoulder and turned away. “But I don’t think I can sleep a wink either. I’ll make some cookies for the tea shop and kill two birds with one stone.”
Jonah let his eyes follow Lovina as she disappeared into the kitchen. He wondered if Annie’s mother knew how he felt about her daughter. Lovina was a woman who read people well, so he expected that she knew. If so, she would have realized that he would gladly stay up all night if it meant spending time alone with Annie.
Was that selfish? Here they were, at wit’s end waiting for Aaron to come home, and Jonah couldn’t help but notice the tilt of Annie’s chin and the slenderness of her fingers as she pressed them against the windowsill. She had rejected him. She was leaving Halfway. She had said no to him in every way. And yet, he hadn’t stopped loving her. He didn’t know if he ever would.
“How can you stay so calm?” Annie asked.
“I have faith in Gott’s plan,” he said quietly.
“Do you think He’s planning to send my dat home tonight?” she asked, still staring out the window.
“I can’t say what will happen, Annie.” He frowned. Annie wouldn’t be consoled to hear that Gott didn’t always deliver everything a person wanted.
He thought of another dark night, nearly two years ago, when he’d been waiting with his brothers and sisters for his parents to come home. Their simple waiting vigil had tumbled into a nightmare.
Suddenly Annie turned from the window, her face open, her blue eyes full of light. “Oh, Jonah, I’m sorry. You’ve been through this before with … with your parents.” Biting her cherry red lips, she came and sat beside him. “Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
He nodded. He didn’t want her pity, but he would not lie to her.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you really want to hear it? Because I don’t want to scare you. This thing with your dat … it’s a very different situation, I think.”
“I know that. But tell me about that night. When did you hear the news?”
Strange how that night seemed so far away and yet so vivid in his memory. “I didn’t hear it so much as I saw it.”
He and Mary had been the oldest in the house, with Adam gone on his rumspringa. Jonah remembered talking with Mary about why their parents could have been running so late on their errands.
“When Mamm and Dat and Simon missed dinner, Gabe and I went looking for them while Sadie went to the shanty to call the police. We retraced their route to Halfway first, but didn’t find anything. By the time we got back to the farm, we started circling toward the back lots. That was when we saw the flashing lights of the police cars.”
The things he remembered about that night still surprised him. How the seat of the carriage was cold as a block of ice, the ground so frozen that the carriage bounced over small ruts in the road. The lights of the emergency vehicles, flashing red and blue and white like stars on the ground, had drawn his eyes and beckoned him. He could still remember that sinking feeling as if the earth were slipping away under his boots, dropping him into darkness.
“So you saw the carriage?” she asked softly.
Jonah shook his head. He could still see the creases at the corners of the sheriff’s eyes as he stopped them. “Hank warned us not to get any closer. Traumatizing, that was what he called it. He brought us over to the ambulance, where the paramedics were taking care of Simon. Not a scratch on him, but he couldn’t stop shivering. He couldn’t speak. He was in shock.”
Those had been dark days, just after they’d learned that Mamm and Dat had been shot and killed. Simon, who’d been traveling with them in the buggy, had been spared, but he’d been shocked into silence. Just eight years old and lost in the dark.
“Little Simon didn’t talk to anyone for months,” Annie said. “Mary talked to me about it all the time. She was heartbroken for him, but she couldn’t get him to say more than a word here and there.”
“Ya, and he had those terrible nightmares, too. We were all worried.” Simon had remained silent for months after the murders. He had seen the killer, but the truth had been locked inside him.
“What brought him out of that bad way?” Annie asked.
“Adam spent a lot of time with him. And when Remy came along, she got Simon to open up more and more. We didn’t know she was a reporter, but she dug into every bit of information she found. In the end, she helped the police find the man who had killed Mamm and Dat.” Although the Amish believed that Gott brought His own justice to those who sinned, it had helped to find the man who killed their parents. Jonah had been relieved to know that a killer was no longer in their neighborhood. Simon had felt the same way.
The truth had lifted the cloak of darkness.
Jonah rubbed the back of his neck
. “Those were dark days, but Gott has healed our family. The sorrow has faded, and Gott has eased our pain. Simon has come back to us with his love for the horses and plenty of words now. I was just talking to Teacher Emma about him, and she’s seen a lot of progress.”
“Gott heals in amazing ways.” Annie’s blue eyes sparkled with hope.
“It’s true. We still miss our parents, of course, but now we’re all beginning to remember more of the good things. When I’m walking around on our farm, I still feel my father there. It’s as if Dat is just around the corner of the barn or leaning on the fence by the beech trees. And when I hear the birds chirping or see them circling the fields, I think of Dat listening to the birdsong that made him smile.”
“Your dat was a wonderful man. He was always singing as he walked around the farm, and he used to tease me about my red lips, saying that I must have just eaten my way through a bowl of berries.”
Jonah felt a smile tug at his mouth. “That sounds like Dat.”
“And your mamm …” She looked toward the kitchen to be sure Lovina wasn’t listening. “Don’t tell Mamm, but Esther was the one who taught me how to make a good, flaky piecrust. And do you remember how she used to braid it on top? Such a nice touch. She could put a pie together, one-two-three, as if it was no trouble at all.”
“I thought there was something familiar about your shoofly pie,” he said, warmed by the memory of Mamm standing at the kitchen counter, pushing her rolling pin over dough. He still missed her. He missed them both. But he would not question Gott’s will.
“Denki, Jonah.” She pressed her hands to her heart, her voice earnest. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. Denki for staying with us now.”
“No need to thank me.” It was a man’s duty to help in a situation like this, no matter what his feelings for Annie were.
No matter that he still loved her.
“You’ve been a pillar of strength through this terrible storm.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, that blue of a soaring summer sky. “There’s no one else I would rather have here, helping us, than you, Jonah.”
He felt a twinge of satisfaction. So Annie cared for him in some way; she loved him like a brother. It was not what he’d planned, but a starving man had to take any crumb thrown his way.
He took her hand, so smooth against his rough, big paws. “Even in the darkest night, Gott won’t leave you without a light.”
She nodded, swiping at a tear.
Then, without warning, she pulled away her hand, reached up, and hugged him.
The breath froze in his lungs at the feel of her small, soft body clinging to his big, square frame.
A second later, his arms wrapped around her. Only a fool would refuse such a soft embrace. He held her close, wondering if she could feel the love burning inside him. Surely the thumping of his heart pounded through the wall of his chest.
A gentle sigh whispered from her throat as she relaxed in his arms, and he wished he could be with her always. He prayed to Gott that she would give up her plans to go to New York and stay here in Halfway.
Stay here with me.
He could not protect her from every sorrow, but he could stand by her side, her pillar of strength.
Jonah kept the fire going through the night, and Lovina brought blankets for the three of them to keep warm as they waited in the front room. Lovina settled into her favorite rocking chair, and he and Annie were at opposite ends of the sofa.
Once, when Jonah went back to the couch after tending the fire, Annie stirred. A sigh escaped her lips, and he paused, not wanting to disturb her. He watched as she shifted onto her side, curled her legs onto the couch, and rubbed her nose.
After all these weeks of seeing her nearly every day, Annie was still a wonder to him … a beautiful mystery he longed to unravel, one day at a time. What a blessing it would be to be able to sleep beside her like this every night of his life, to hear her sigh in her sleep, to feel her soft warm body beside his in bed.
He sat on the edge of the couch and pressed his face into his palms.
Father Gott, why do I keep wanting the one thing that will not be?
Try as he had to temper his love for Annie, his feelings for her never changed.
But she had come to appreciate his steady support. Maybe that was as good as it would get.
He drew in a deep breath, finishing his prayer by asking for Aaron Stoltzfus’s safe return. That was why he was here now; Aaron’s safety was what truly mattered.
Watch over him, Father, he prayed.
Jonah was adding a log to the fire in the murky gray of breaking dawn when two white lights came down the lane.
A car.
He reached over and touched Annie’s shoulder. “I think your dat’s home.”
Her eyes opened slowly, then she jerked upright. “What?”
“Lovina?” He went to the window. “There’s a car coming.”
“Oh, glory be to Gott!” Lovina rose abruptly, dropping the blanket onto the rocking chair to join Jonah at the window. “Aaron must have hired a driver to bring him home.”
There was a flurry of excitement as Jonah lit a lantern, Annie gathered up the blankets and Lovina fairly flew out the front door wearing only socks on her feet. She ran down the path, mindless of the wet stones.
“Aaron? Is that you?” Lovina called.
As Jonah stepped out the door behind her, he noticed that the car was a small SUV. The driver’s door opened, and an Englisher man climbed out of the car. Jonah squinted, recognizing Doc Trueherz, from Paradise.
“It’s Henry Trueherz, Lovina.” The older man slammed the door of the Jeep and jogged up the path to the house.
“The doctor?” Annie said from behind them. She pressed a hand against Jonah’s back, trying to peer around him. “Is Dat with him?”
“He’s alone.” Lovina’s voice was cold as the damp morning air. “Doctor, do you have news of my husband?”
“I do.” Dr. Trueherz paused on the top step, his eyes earnest as he faced Lovina. “Aaron is in the hospital in Lancaster County. He’s had a heart attack.”
“Oh, my dear Aaron!” Lovina gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“I know. It’s hard news to hear, but he’s hanging in there.” The doctor patted Lovina’s shoulder. “Can we step inside, out of the cold?”
“Of course.”
As everyone moved inside, Jonah caught the look of panic in Annie’s eyes. He wanted to reassure her, to be her pillar, but in the close space of the front room with the doctor and Annie’s mother here, he could only stand by, his hands at his sides.
Lovina was plucking her wet socks off even as she rattled out questions for the doctor.
“I got a call late last night from an associate at the hospital in Lancaster. Aaron is there in the cardiac ward. He suffered the heart attack during the storm yesterday. Fortunately, he managed to make it to a merchant he knows in Paradise, who got him to the hospital.”
“A heart attack!” Lovina winced. “Aaron hasn’t been feeling well at all lately. He never complained, but I noticed he was slowing down. We all noticed. I asked him to go see you, get a checkup, but he said he was just tired. And it’s hard to get enough sleep when there’s a farm to take care of.”
“Will he be all right?” Jonah asked.
“I’m optimistic but cautious,” Dr. Trueherz said. “He’s not out of the woods yet. It looks like he’s going to need a coronary bypass—a major surgery. But we can’t do that until he’s stabilized. I’ll let the cardiac specialist fill you in on the details. Right now, I imagine you want to see him at the hospital.”
“I was just thinking that,” Lovina said. “We’ve got to get to Lancaster. I’ll run to the shanty and call a car service.”
“No need.” Doc Trueherz stopped her. “I’m happy to give you a ride. But I have a four-passenger limit, and no children. I know you’ll want to bring the whole family, but I have a Jeep with no car seats.” Doc Trueherz had worked with P
lain folks long enough to know that when an Amish person was in the hospital, the entire family usually went to visit and provide support.
“Denki, Doctor,” Lovina said, turning to Annie. “Who should go? Look at me, I can’t even think straight. If Levi stays with Jonah, maybe we can go to town and—”
“No, Mamm,” Annie interrupted her. “Jonah’s going to have his hands full taking care of our farm.”
Lovina pressed a hand to her cheek. “That’s right. Will you mind the farm while we’re gone, Jonah?”
He nodded. “Whatever it takes. I’ll get my brothers to come lend a hand if I need it.”
“Denki,” Lovina said. “But what of Levi? He needs a car seat.”
“I’ll stay with him, Mamm,” Annie said. “You go, and I’ll arrange for a car this afternoon so that Levi and I can come. I’ll finish the baking and drop it off at the tea shop, too. And that way Levi won’t have as much time to get fidgety in the waiting room.”
“If you don’t mind,” Lovina said. “I just want as much of the family as possible at the hospital.”
“Maybe you can pick up the others in town,” Jonah suggested.
“That’s a good idea. Dr. Trueherz, can we stop in Halfway to pick up the rest of the family?” Lovina asked. “Our other two daughters and son-in-law Daniel will want to come, too.”
He adjusted his glasses. “Fine with me. We’ve got to swing through town on the way.”
“God bless you,” Lovina said, slipping her coat on. “The thought of Aaron all alone in that hospital is too much to bear. I have to go now.”
“Mamm?” Annie grasped her mother’s shoulder as she headed for the door. “Don’t forget your shoes.”
Lovina looked down and threw up her hands. “Look at me!” she cried. “Going off to the city hospital with bare feet!”
Annie ran to Lovina’s bedroom for socks and Sunday shoes, and Jonah suggested she bring money, so that the family could purchase food from the hospital cafeteria.
Five minutes later, Lovina was sitting in the passenger seat of Henry Trueherz’s Jeep, trying to reach Daniel’s harness shop on the doctor’s cell phone.
A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 24