by Beth Wiseman
Vera gasped, then leaned closer to Martha. “Martha, there’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in this box! Exactly how much do you think a one-room schoolhouse for ten children costs?”
Martha sighed. “You don’t want the money?”
Vera stood, indignant. “Of course not. We cannot accept something like that.”
Martha stood up, grabbed the box from her hand, and walked through the kitchen and out onto the porch. Vera followed.
“Hello, Elam,” Martha said as she tossed the box into a blue trash can on the side of the porch. “You can take your wife home now. I need to mourn my loss.”
Martha marched back into the house, Vera on her heels. “Ach, now Martha, you are being ridiculous. You don’t throw away money like that when there are people starving in the world! There are people who can use that money! You’re being ridiculous.”
Martha continued into the den. “Who is being ridiculous?”
Vera stomped her foot. “You are.”
“I gave you the money. You’re the one who couldn’t find a use for it.”
“It’s not an appropriate Christmas gift.”
Martha sat down in her chair, then put her hand to her forehead. “Vera, I’m tired. I buried my best friend today. Go home.”
“Are you going to go get that money out of the trash can?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t feel like it.”
“Martha!”
“Vera!”
“Argh!” Vera stormed out of the house, slamming the door on the way out, only to find Elam with his head buried in the garbage can. “What are you doing?”
He stood up, his eyes wide. “Nothing, dear.”
“Let’s go.” Vera moved toward the buggy.
Elam didn’t move. “Is Martha gonna leave two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the trash man?”
“I reckon so.”
Elam grabbed the box and tucked it under his arm.
“Put that back, Elam.”
“I will not.” He stood tall, raised his chin. “We might not need this money, but someone can put it to good use. We just have to find that person.”
Vera thought about what Martha said. “I gave you the money. You’re the one who couldn’t find a use for it.”
Then Vera knew what to do with the money.
Seventeen
KATIE ANN SPENT THE MORNING CLEANING HER HOUSE. It wasn’t dirty, but that’s the way Amish women started their day, and somehow she needed to feel like a normal Amish woman. Even if everything was far from normal. She tried to ignore the stomach virus that had plagued her lately. If she was feeling all right when she was done cleaning, she’d go see if Lillian needed help at her house. During the three months since Christmas, Katie Ann had spent a lot of time helping Lillian work on their farmhouse, and it was starting to take shape. Samuel and David had put in new wooden floors, whitewashed the walls, and replaced the cabinets. For Katie Ann, the work kept her busy and her mind off her misery.
She’d also gotten to know her sister-in-law much better, and she babysat Anna and Elizabeth regularly, which she’d enjoyed. Despite what was happening in her marriage, she liked seeing David and Emily’s relationship blossom. David spent the little bit of free time he had with Emily, and Emily often ate meals with them. Prayer combined with time heals, and Katie Ann was getting used to being alone. She’d heard from Ivan twice. She supposed he felt obligated to check on her after so many years of marriage, but he wasn’t the same man she married, and it was a struggle to hide her resentment when she spoke to him. He was in Lancaster County, and she’d heard from others that he was with Lucy, even though he didn’t offer up the information on the phone. She wasn’t surprised.
Then there was the money. It would certainly enable her to open a business, fix up her house, and live out her life here in Canaan. She hadn’t touched one dollar of the money for herself since the box showed up on her doorstep three months ago, not long after Christmas. Lillian and Samuel had also received a mysterious box of money, and like Katie Ann, they had no idea where it came from. Lillian planned to use some of the money to help with David’s prior medical bills and medications, and they’d save the rest for when David started a family of his own, giving him a jump on the medical expenses he’d face for the rest of his life.
She’d tried to give Arnold Becker some of the money for the new schoolhouse, but he refused, saying all the materials had been donated.
Katie Ann thought about the note that was inside the box along with the money. With God’s blessing, start a new life for yourself. She just didn’t know what that life was. But her own money, the little bit Ivan left her, was running out, so she knew she would need to decide soon. For weeks, she’d lost sleep about who would offer her such a generous gift, but she never found out. So she just kept the shoebox under her bed until she could sort things out.
She stowed her broom in the pantry, then stopped to close the window in the kitchen. She’d opened it earlier to air out the room, glad to feel the beginnings of spring, but the air still had a cool edge during the day and near-freezing temperatures at night. Someone knocked on the door, and she walked into the den and opened it to see Martha. She’d gotten to know the Englisch woman over the past few months, and although she was an odd woman, Katie Ann liked her, as did the rest of her family.
“I was sent to let you know that the men are starting on the schoolhouse Saturday. I told Arnold I’d stop by and let you know . . . even though I haven’t heard from Arnold in a couple of days.” Martha scowled before she turned toward Lillian and Samuel’s house. “I knocked on the door over there, but no one is at home. Can you let your kinfolks know too?”
“Of course.” Katie Ann grabbed at her stomach.
Martha folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Ach, I’m fine. I just seem to have a stomach bug that won’t go away.” Katie Ann grimaced as the nauseated feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
Martha stared at her for a moment before she said, “Anyway, we’re all going to be there, and we’re planning it like your people do a barn raising—frame it all in one day, put the roof on that evening, then spend the next few Saturdays working on the inside.” Martha took a breath. “All the womenfolk are going to bring food and tea at noon. Even me.” She cackled. “Though history dictates that I should leave the cooking to the others. I’ll just bring the tea.”
“That sounds nice. And ya, I’ll be happy to bring something.” She grimaced again. “I’m sorry, Martha. I hope I’m not being rude, but my stomach is getting worse. I think I best excuse myself.”
Katie Ann didn’t even have time to close the door; she just turned and darted to the bathroom. She barely made it this time, and when she was done, she wiped her mouth, took a deep breath, and promised herself she would make an appointment with the doctor the following day if the nausea didn’t stop by then. When she walked out of the bathroom, Martha was standing in the den with her arms still folded across her chest and a frown on her face.
“Well, that didn’t sound good at all.” Martha walked closer to Katie Ann. “You got fever?”
Katie Ann jumped a bit when Martha roughly slapped her hand to Katie Ann’s forehead. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Just feeling sick to my stomach. Not all the time. Just in the mornings, and sometimes after I eat supper.”
A grin spread across Martha’s face. “Honey, that ain’t no virus.” Martha tipped her head at an angle, then squinted one eye. “How long since your husband’s been gone, and how long since you’ve had your womanly visit?”
“What?”
Martha slapped her hands to her hips. “You know . . . how long since—”
“Ach, that.” Katie Ann stopped Martha before the woman embarrassed her further. “No, I’m not pregnant. Ivan and I tried for many years to have a baby.” She shook her head. “It never happened.”
“You d
idn’t answer my question.” Martha tilted her head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. “He’s been gone about three or four months, that husband of yours.” She scowled at Katie Ann. “Who I think needs a good lashing for what he did to you.” Martha waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, how long has it been since—”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure I’m not pregnant.” Katie Ann tried to recall the last time she’d had a menstrual period. She couldn’t. She’d stopped keeping track of it a long time ago, when she’d reconciled the fact that children were not in her future.
Martha pressed her lips together for a moment. “You’re a bit young to be going through the change.”
This conversation was inappropriate, and Katie Ann felt her cheeks blushing. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Martha. Tomorrow I’ll go to the doctor, and—” She gasped as she bent at the waist.
A sharp pain jabbed at her abdomen. This felt different than the nausea, and it frightened her.
“Let’s go,” Martha barked. “Whatever is wrong with you, pregnant or otherwise, I’m hauling you to a doctor. So get what you need and let’s go.”
Katie Ann didn’t argue as another pain stabbed at her stomach. Dear Lord, haven’t I been through enough?
IT WAS TWO hours later when the doctor was finally able to see Katie Ann. He gave her a complete examination, drew some blood, and asked her to urinate in a cup. As she waited for someone to return to the small room she was in, the clock ticked loudly on the wall and the sterile surroundings and smell of ammonia made her anxious. But at least her stomach wasn’t cramping any more.
Martha was waiting in the reception area down the hall. Katie Ann was grateful to Martha for bringing her to the doctor, but she felt badly that the woman was spending her afternoon this way. Martha didn’t seem to mind, though. “When else can I catch up on my reading?” she’d said, holding up a magazine.
Katie Ann took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, then folded her hands in her lap. She wasn’t sure whether to go sit in the chair nearby or stay seated at the end of the long examining table. She decided to stay where she was and hoped the doctor would be back soon. Normally, she would seek out a natural doctor, hoping for herbs or a homemade treatment to cure what ailed her, but Martha was insistent that Katie Ann go to an Englisch doctor. And Katie Ann suspected Martha was right in this case. Whatever was going on was more than a common cold or virus.
She heard shuffling outside the closed door and looked up when the doctor walked into the room. He was an older man with gray hair and small green eyes, but when he smiled, his kind features put Katie Ann’s mind at ease.
“Katie Ann, you’re about three and a half or four months pregnant.” His smile grew broader, then he sat down on a small stool and began writing something on a pad of paper. “I want you to take these vitamins I’m prescribing, something a little better than what you can get over the counter.”
He kept writing, but Katie Ann couldn’t breathe. She unfolded her hands and pressed them against her belly. Dr. Morgan raised his brows to her.
“This is your first baby, right? You must be very excited.”
Katie Ann opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out for a few seconds. “Are you sure?” she finally asked.
“Absolutely. And that cramping was due to the stretching of the ligaments in your pelvis. It’s something that happens sometimes—usually during the first trimester—but you’re not too far past that. We’re going to keep a close eye on you, though.”
A baby? She couldn’t wait to tell Ivan as soon as—
Her heart sank, knowing that she’d dreamed of this moment her entire life and fantasized about the look on Ivan’s face when he heard her speak the words, Ivan, we’re going to have a baby.
But no one would be home to hear the news. And her husband was sharing his life with another woman.
“I want you to come back next week.” The doctor handed her the slip of paper. “Just to make sure everything is all right, and we’ll do an ultrasound at that time.” He paused. “Do you know what that is?”
Katie Ann nodded. She was with Lillian when the doctor suggested her sister-in-law have an ultrasound during her second pregnancy.
“Do you have any questions?” Dr. Morgan stood up from the stool and walked closer.
Ya, I have a million questions. “No,” she answered.
The doctor congratulated her before he left the room. Katie Ann sat there for a few moments, fighting the urge to question God’s timing. She touched her stomach again with both hands and wondered how she was going to do this alone, at her age.
Ting a child on her own. Martha was hesitant to leave Katie Ann, but when Lillian showed up, she headed back to her house. Martha recalled her own desire to have children, but she’d lost one in miscarriage and was never able to conceive again. And she’d had Herbert back then. Poor Katie Ann was all by herself. Martha folded her arms across her chest as she thought about her own life.HAT EVENING MARTHA kicked her shoes off and poured herself into her recliner. She was relieved that Katie Ann was going to be all right, but the poor woman was a mess—thrilled to be pregnant a little late in life and scared to death to be rais
She was more than a little peeved that she hadn’t heard from Arnold for the past two days. They always ate dinner together on Wednesday nights. She’d slap something frozen in one of her own casserole dishes, heat it up, and Arnold would go on and on about how great it was, even though they both knew it originated from a box in the freezer section of the grocery store. She’d called him several times, and each time she’d gotten his answering machine. And today was Wednesday.
She glanced over at Elvis’s cage, knowing she needed to move it out of the living room, but sometimes she could almost see and hear her precious Elvis singing and talking to her, and she just wasn’t quite ready yet. She settled into the chair, crossed her legs, and thought about the money she’d given Vera. It had been impulsive, and she really hadn’t a clue if Vera and her family needed any money, but Martha sure didn’t need it. She was at a loss that day about what to give the Detweilers for Christmas, so she figured a quarter million bucks oughta do it. She’d about fallen over when Herbert died and the attorney said they had millions in the bank.
Martha had given away a lot of it over the years, but she’d about run out of good causes in the area, so she thought maybe the Amish might put some to good use. She smiled, knowing she’d been right. Katie Ann told Martha about a mysterious box of money showing up at her front door.
“Who would do such a thing?” Katie Ann had asked on the way home from the doctor’s office.
Martha had merely shrugged. A true gift is one that comes from the heart, one you don’t need credit for. She’d learned that from going to church with Arnold. “Matthew 6:3–4 (NIV), But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. ”
She sure hoped nothing had happened to Arnold. That old man made her want to be a better person. And while Wednesday was frozen food night, Mondays had been the nights that Arnold talked to her about God and His Son, Jesus.
“Jesus listens to us, Martha,” he said over and over again. “Just talk to Him like you would a friend.”
It frightened her at first, these conversations she seemed to be having with herself. But when she started to really listen, she could hear a voice in her head. She was pretty sure that’s how she knew to give Vera the box of money, that she’d do the right thing.
Seek Me with all your heart.
She’d been hearing that in her head for months, and with each day, she felt like she was growing in the Lord’s love, gaining faith. “I want to spend the rest of my life living the way You want me to live, God,” she’d recently said to Him. “Give me a chance, and I’ll make You proud.”
Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing.
She rose from the recliner and walk
ed to the phone a few feet away. “This better be Arnold Becker calling to explain to me where he’s been and why he isn’t at my house tonight for supper,” she said before she picked up the receiver and said hello, noticing that there was no number on her caller ID.
“Martha, Martha. I’m so sorry.”
Relief flooded over her at the sound of Arnold’s voice. “Where in the world are you? I’ve tried calling, but your machine picks up.”
“I’m in Georgia.”
Martha was quiet for a few moments. “Arnold . . . are you in another state when you are supposed to be in Canaan, Colorado, having lasagna with me tonight?” She kept her voice as calm as a windless sea with enough turbulence hidden below the surface to erupt into a tidal wave if he wasn’t real careful about what he said next.
“I’m sorry, Martha. I hate missing our dinner night.”
Martha scratched her head so hard she knocked her butterfly clip to the floor. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing in Georgia?”
“I’m with my son.”
Martha folded herself back into her recliner. “What son? I thought you didn’t have any children.”
She heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “No, I do. Just one son. Benny.”
“I heard you say that you didn’t have any family to speak of that first day I met you.”
“Right—to speak of. I haven’t spoken to Benny for years, since he was a boy. But his wife called me, Martha.” She heard only silence for a few moments; then Arnold spoke. “Benny is sick, and I need to be here right now.”
“Oh. Of course you do.” She thought for a moment. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Pancreatic cancer.”
Martha was quiet. “I’m sorry, Arnold. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. But thank you.” He paused. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, Martha, but I feel a strong calling to stay here and help take care of my son, and to try to make things right between us while I still can.”