by Beth Wiseman
Sadie took two steps into the packed snow and turned to see Kade still standing in the threshold. Go in the house!
Bishop Ebersol held firmly to the handrail and made his way down the steps. A man in his seventies, he wore a gray beard that stretched to the end of his chest. But he stood tall in his black overcoat and took each step slow and steady.
“Well, okay . . .” she heard Kade say. “Thanks for coming over. I’ll see you at supper tonight.”
Sadie cringed and knew she was about to get a good talking-to. She waited for the bishop to catch up with her and wondered if Kade was ever going to go back in the cottage.
“I think it would be gut for us to have kaffi, Sadie,” Bishop Ebersol said in a tone that challenged her to argue. He pulled his coat tight around his neck, blocking a blast of cool air that seemed to come out of nowhere. The sun was shining, but it was a reminder of what was to come. By tomorrow, temperatures would be consistently below freezing. By Friday they predicted terrible conditions.
She’d give thought to the weather later. Right now, she suspected Bishop Ebersol had a few things on his mind pertaining to her renter. She got in step with the bishop and took slow strides toward the farmhouse, and then spun her neck around to see Kade wave. She raised her hand briefly in his direction, turned back around, and prepared herself for the harsh words to come.
They were almost to the house when she saw the mailman pull up to her mailbox, open the flap, and push an envelope inside.
She hoped the bishop wouldn’t take too long.
Lillian watched out of the window of the shop as Sadie walked alongside Bishop Ebersol toward the farmhouse, a gloomy expression on her face. Lillian hadn’t known what to say when the bishop questioned Sadie’s whereabouts, so she had stumbled around saying Sadie was tending to errands around the property. It was the truth, however slightly stretched it might have been. But Lillian saw Sadie walk inside the cottage, and she knew the bishop was already uncomfortable about a single man as her renter.
Lillian shook her head. Sadie should have stayed outside on the porch.
She’d barely sat back down to finish hemming Samuel’s pants when she heard the clip-clop of hooves. She set the project aside and walked to the front window. Oh no.
Lillian walked outside and met her grandfather at the buggy. Before he had time to step down, she said, “Grandpa, does Mamm know where you are?”
Jonas Miller scrunched his face in irritation. “Lilly, I am a grown man. I do what I want, when I want.” He climbed out of the buggy, opened his black coat, and slipped his thumbs beneath his suspenders. “And ya, Sarah Jane knows where I’m at.”
“Gut, Grandpa.” She patted his arm tenderly. “We worry and love you, that’s all.”
“I know you all think I’m ab im kopp, but I reckon I just get confused sometimes.” He started walking toward the shop.
Lillian put her arm through his and walked beside him. “No one thinks you are off in the head, Grandpa.”
“Gut, gut.” He looked her way and smiled. “I was testing your Pennsylvania Deitsch, to see if you have kept up with your studies since marrying Samuel.”
“Ya, I have.” She opened the door and motioned her grandpa in. “Are you here just for a visit?” Lillian was still skeptical that her mother knew he was here.
“I reckon I can come just to visit mei kinskind, no?”
Lillian closed the door behind them. “You can visit me anytime.”
“I see that Bishop Ebersol is here. Sadie get in some trouble for housing that single Englisch fella?”
“I don’t know. Sadie was a little concerned about that, but Bishop Ebersol said it would be all right for her to rent the cottage. There weren’t any specific rules about who to rent to, but—”
“Then what’s he doing here?” Grandpa placed his hat on the counter.
“I think he’s just checking on her, and . . . uh, then she happened to be inside the cottage when he came, and I really don’t know what’s going on.” Lillian shrugged and took a seat on the stool behind the counter.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on. Trouble. I saw the way the Englischer was looking at your friend. You look out for her, Lilly. He don’t strike me as the converting type, and he’ll steal our Sadie away to the Englisch world.”
“Grandpa! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. They barely know each other!” Lillian slapped him playfully on the hand and grinned.
“You didn’t know Samuel either.”
“That was different.”
“I don’t know about that, and—”
The bell on the door chimed, hushing Grandpa.
“Is everything all right?” Lillian asked when Sadie walked in.
“Ya. Bishop Ebersol asked me a lot of questions, but when I explained about Mr. Saunders’s son, he seemed to understand my concern for the boy.” Sadie focused on Lillian’s grandpa. “Hello, Jonas. What brings you here? Does Sarah Jane know you’re here?”
Lillian sighed. She knew what was coming.
“I don’t have to tell my daughter my every move. I am a grown man, and I can do what I see fit.” Grandpa stood up, put his hat on, and tipped it in their direction. “As a matter of fact, I think I will go for a ride through the country.”
“Jonas, I’m sorry if—” Sadie moved toward him.
“No, no. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” He started toward the door but turned around. “You girls take care of each other.”
Kade put Tyler in the bathtub and placed the floating ducks all around him, like Monica had instructed in the black binder. Six little yellow chicks bobbed aimlessly around Tyler, who began to giggle.
Kade smiled. His son was as cute a kid as he’d ever seen. And at times like this, he forgot about Tyler’s special needs. But it had been a hard day inclusive of another headbanging incident, and Kade worried how supper with Sadie and her guests would go. He was willing to chance it. He’d been alone and felt sorry for himself long enough. Maybe being around some other adults would do him good. And something about being around Sadie seemed to calm him. Perhaps it was the way she was with Tyler, or maybe because she was pleasant on the eyes. Either way, he found himself looking forward to the meal.
Tyler kept laughing, and Kade was mesmerized by the innocence of it all. He sat down on the tile floor beside the bathtub and watched his son, feeling like he could sit there forever. How had his life spiraled so completely out of control? He had more money than most would ever have, but barely an ounce of happiness. Yet, a bathtub full of yellow chicks was enough for Tyler. Something was amiss in Kade’s life, and he’d never felt it more than right now.
He looked up at the ceiling. What the heck? he thought. He leaned against the wall and veered his eyes upward. “God, can You hear me?” It had been a long time, and he felt silly. But he pressed on. “Because I’m a mess. I need some help.” He shook his head and fought his feelings of unworthiness. He knew from his upbringing that God welcomes those who have strayed, but Kade was struggling to reconnect. Carrying the burdens of his past would only hinder this effort. He knew this. But his regrets pressed down on him like a heavy weight on his chest, testing how much pressure his heart could take.
Tyler was still giggling and pushing the ducks around the tub. Kade was feeling something he hadn’t felt before—confusing waves of emotion and an inner voice that seemed to beg him to take a good, hard look at his life, to reevaluate his place in the world.
He’d been crushed when Monica left. Highly perturbed when he lost almost two hundred thousand dollars in a business deal recently. And extremely disappointed when Alicia pulled out of their friendship. He also had a son whom he barely knew, which pained him now more than ever. But worst of all had been finding his father dead near his parents’ Malibu home. He recalled his father’s lifeless body, his eyes and mouth gaping open. A chill ran up Kade’s spine, and he squelched the thought.
Kade’s life had had its ups and downs for sure. But these feelings he
was having . . . They were different.
Kade pushed one of the yellow ducks back in Tyler’s direction.
“My duck,” Tyler said as he continued to be entertained by the floating toys.
“Yes, your duck.” Kade forced a smile, but he was anything but happy. And he should be—happy. Shouldn’t I?
Despite the downs in his life, there had certainly been ups. He was wealthy. He’d traveled the world and experienced things most people never would. His doctor had recently told him that he was in perfect health. He had it all, really.
Then why was something pecking away at his insides, like a chisel chipping away at all that he’d ever known, and hinting that there was something else on the horizon?
Contentment? Is this what I’m lacking?
Kade gazed at his son and thought about the life he’d lived thus far. Right now, at this moment, he felt . . . What do I feel? He thought about it some more and summarized his emotions.
Fear, regret, hope, and love for my son.
His stomach knotted, and he fought the pangs of shame in his heart. I want to be a better man.
Kade looked up again, and this time he didn’t feel ridiculous. “Show me the way, Lord. Show me the way.”
Kade glanced at Tyler, who for the very first time stared straight into Kade’s eyes. Kade didn’t even want to blink or move—afraid he’d lose the moment. “Hey buddy,” he said softly, wishing, praying Tyler could communicate with him.
The kid got the strangest look on his face. Kade didn’t care. He was thrilled that he seemed to be holding his attention. “Tyler?”
Tyler smiled, which instantly invoked a smile from Kade. It was a rare moment, Tyler’s eyes fused with Kade’s, as if he were looking into Kade’s thoughts, his soul.
“Tyler?” His son’s eyes were still locked with his.
Tyler opened his mouth to speak, and Kade waited.
Tyler spoke softly, with perfect pronunciation, and with a gleam in his eyes. “The Lord is our King; He will save us.”
Then Tyler returned to splashing around in the tub with his ducks, as if something incredibly profound hadn’t happened, something that would change the core of who Kade was as a person, a man . . . a father
Sadie pulled the turkey roast from the oven. She placed it on top of the gas range next to a casserole dish filled with barbecued string beans. The potatoes were cooked and cubed, and she had already added butter, milk, salt, pepper, and cream cheese. She’d mash them right before her guests arrived. Her table was filled with homemade bread, applesauce, and an assortment of jams and jellies, and she’d prepared a traditional shoofly pie for dessert. If the supper went as smoothly as the meal preparation, all would be well.
She stepped back to inspect her place settings for seven. Sadie couldn’t remember the last time she used the plain white china, a wedding gift from Ben’s parents. The long wooden table stretched almost the length of her kitchen, backless benches on either side. She recalled the hours Ben spent making the table, for the large family they would never have.
Sadie closed her eyes for a moment and bit back tears. She refused to allow her shattered dreams to put a damper on this evening. Company was coming, and she felt good about sharing her home and a meal with friends. Carley and Noah were as fine a couple as she’d ever known, and she felt sure their friends would be a pleasure as well.
Kade and the boy. She felt a nervous anticipation about them being at supper. Kade made her incredibly uncomfortable, but she worried for the boy’s well-being. Hopefully, Dr. Noah and his Englisch friend would be able to guide Kade on how to tend to Tyler.
She adjusted the tall, propane floor lights, one on either side of the roomy kitchen. Then she lit the two white candles in clear glass votives that she’d placed on the table. Everything was ready. She had just enough time to reread Milo’s letter that had arrived earlier. But no matter how many times she read it, she couldn’t shake her recent doubt that he would ever actually show up. She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him. Her faith in Milo had been slipping, and along with it, her faith in God’s will for her—a sin far greater than her heart could bear. She would need to pray harder that she not be tempted to doubt His plan for her. God is great, and all things are of Your will, she silently prayed.
She pulled Milo’s letter from the kitchen drawer where she placed it earlier and unfolded the single piece of paper.
My Dear Sadie,
I hope that you are doing gut and that you are staying warm during the kalt wedder. Soon I will be traveling to see you and will finally be able to hold you in my arms. The spring will not arrive fast enough for me. I spend my afternoons working to ready my farm for a visit from you someday, but lately it has made wet on many days in the week.
God continues to bless my new business with more and more customers.
Each morning, after tending to the animals, I am able to work in the barn on furniture the Englisch have ordered. It pleases me to work with my hands and be able to make a necessary living. I finished the cedar chest I have been working on for John, the one I wrote to you about. He is most anxious to surprise his wife with it.
Church service will be at my home this Sunday. Mei sisters, Mary and Rachel, will prepare the meal for afterwards, along with mei mamm.
I must go for now, but I will write to you again very soon. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Em Gott Sei Friede,
Milo
“And God’s peace to you as well,” Sadie said aloud. She tapped the envelope against her hand a few times, then folded it and put it back in the envelope. Hmm. His letters were growing shorter and less enthusiastic, which matched her attitude. Maybe Milo was tiring of their correspondence.
She sighed, and then began to mash the potatoes. Moments later, there was a knock at the door
Lillian parked her buggy and walked up the dirt driveway to Lizzie’s small farmhouse. It was set so far back in the woods you wouldn’t know a house was even back there. She’d offered to drop off the bread Sadie had baked for Lizzie this morning because it was on her way home from Sadie’s shop.
Surely Lizzie won’t need more bread for a few days. As much as she enjoyed the days she worked at Treasures of the Heart, she was always behind on her household chores for that day. Plus she’d stayed late at the shop today to finish reorganizing the quilts by price, a project she shouldn’t have started so late in the afternoon. There would be plenty to do when she got home, especially since the baby was sick as well. She’d been up with Anna the past two nights. She was glad Sadie had baked bread for Lizzie and that she didn’t have to tackle that chore when she got home.
She knocked on Lizzie’s door and heard movement from within the house. Lizzie had to be home. When there was no answer, she knocked again and waited. It was already dark, and the temperature was dipping into the twenties. Hurry, Lizzie. I’m freezing out here.
Lizzie hadn’t owned a horse and buggy in years and relied on her friends to cart her to town when she was feeling up to it, which wasn’t often these days. She mainly stayed to herself. They all felt sorry for Lizzie. Lillian couldn’t imagine how lonely she must get.
Definitely movement inside. Lillian pounded hard on the door, and then paced the porch while rubbing her hands together, thankful for her thick, black gloves. From the west end of the porch, she could see a light coming from her grandparents’ farmhouse across the pasture. Mom was probably already preparing Grandpa’s supper, something fabulous, no doubt. Lillian wished she could head over there, sit down, and eat a hot meal with her mother and grandpa. But too much to do at home.
She’d left a prepared pot of stew in the refrigerator for Samuel and David. She always left something easy for them to heat up on the days she went to the shop. Samuel was a stickler about eating at four thirty.
Her stomach growled. She raised her hand to pound on the door again, but stopped when she heard footsteps in the kitchen. Thank goodness.
“I’m coming, dear,” she
heard Lizzie call out. “I’ve been waiting for you!”
Huh?
The wooden door swung open, and Lizzie was grinning from ear to ear. A silly little grin that vanished the moment she saw Lillian.
“What are you doing here, Lillian?” Lizzie didn’t open the screen door or invite her in from the cold.
“I brought Sadie’s bread for you.” Lillian lifted up the plastic bag she had hung across her forearm, with two loaves of bread inside.
Lizzie pushed the screen door open and almost ripped the bag as she pulled it off of Lillian’s arm. “Danki, Lillian. So kind of you to drop it off.” Then she let the screen door slam, smiled briefly, and started to push the wooden door closed.
“Wait!” Lillian said.
“Ya? What is it, dear?” Lizzie peeked around the wooden door. Her gray hair was tightly tucked beneath her kapp, and she was dressed plain, as she always was. But something was different. Her eyes seemed brighter, her face less wrinkled.
“Is everything all right, Lizzie?”
“Ya, ya. Wunderbaar gut.” And she slammed the door closed.
Lillian just stood there. Many times, Lizzie had declined offers of company, but Lillian had just assumed she wasn’t feeling well. Quite clearly, Lizzie was feeling mighty fine today. That was the most zest she’d seen in Lizzie’s demeanor since she’d known the woman. Well, that’s good, she thought, as she finally turned to walk down the porch steps. Surprising, but good.
Her feet had just hit the snow when she heard whistling coming from the side of the house. A body rounded the corner, but it was too dark to see. She strained to focus on the approaching mass.
“Lizzie girl, I’m here!” a loud voice bellowed.
Lillian’s jaw dropped as the male figure came into view. At about the same time, the man dropped a handful of flowers to the ground.
Lillian closed her mouth, but her eyes were wide.
“Lilly, what in the world are you doin’ here?”
Lillian folded her arms across her chest. “I might ask you the same thing, Grandpa!”