Jenny, meanwhile, was still cutting pickles at the kitchen counter and placing them prettily on a red-hued Carnival glass relish plate. Rebecca went over and slipped her arm through Jenny’s and whispered, “I think this might be a day to remember.” Tears filled her eyes, and she smiled through the veil. “I’m so glad you can meet my Katie-girl.”
Jenny nodded, and then they heard the car turn into the driveway.
“They must be here,” Rebecca said, moving forward to the window, eager to get a glimpse.
Just then Samuel came downstairs, all spiffy like it was a church day, and he and Rebecca moved swiftly to the utility room, where they stood like excited children. Our hearts on our sleeves . . .
Jenny hung back in the kitchen to observe, undoubtedly not wanting to interfere, and Rebecca hoped she didn’t feel strange about being present.
Rebecca noticed Samuel’s chin quiver as he opened the door without waiting for the knock. And, oh, such happiness on little Sammy’s face as his tall, handsome Dat carried him inside and presented him to Samuel, who reached out his big callused hand. “Hullo, Sammy,” she heard Samuel say. “En hallicher Grischtdaag!”
Merry Christmas, thought Rebecca. Ach, so very true!
Tiny Kate Marie, in her mother’s arms, reached toward both Samuel and Rebecca, stretching her chubby hands to Samuel’s big beard. Samuel’s hearty laughter made Rebecca blink back tears as she took her granddaughter from Katie and motioned all of them into the kitchen. Ah, the feel of this darling child in her arms!
Katie removed the children’s coats, hats, and scarves as all the while Samuel and little Sammy held hands. The blond boy stared up silently in awe at the grandpa he’d never met.
———
Jenny couldn’t pull her gaze from the tender scene, riveted by it. What she was witnessing was a family’s heart mending before her eyes. She wanted to rejoice in this major step forward, and she prayed that the man of God might pay attention to his wife’s encouraging, even convicting words, especially at Christmastime. Was it possible that a family man like John Beiler might soften his heart at this time of year?
And then she recalled his pointed words to her and trembled.
———
“I’ve heard so much about you, Jenny,” Katie said when Rebecca introduced her, and Jenny had stepped out of the shadows. “Such nice things, too,” she added, the brightest smile on her lovely face.
“Merry Christmas to you and your family,” Jenny said as she shook Katie’s slender hand. “It’s wonderful you’re here.”
Rebecca stood nearby, nodding and smiling.
It must seem like forever, Jenny thought.
Katie was looking all around the kitchen, observing what Jenny assumed she hadn’t seen since the advent of her shunning. “It’s so good to be home again, Mamma. It truly is.” Her voice broke and she turned to reach for Rebecca, embracing her mother as her shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
Daniel, meanwhile, was holding baby Kate Marie over near the doorway to the kitchen, with little Sammy near, his mouth puckered and his big blue eyes regarding everyone.
Soon they were seated at their separate tables, although no one would have known, considering the tablecloth stretched all the way down and over the larger one. Tiny Kate was propped up safely in a booster chair Rebecca kept in the pantry for her other young grandchildren, playing with the bouncy red ribbon on her present.
Jenny and Rebecca brought over the large serving plate with the goose, browned perfectly, and all the steaming hot side dishes. There was dried corn casserole, green beans with ham bits and diced onions, mashed potatoes and rich gravy, chowchow, the relish dish with two kinds of homemade pickles—sweet and dill—and rolls still warm from the oven.
The silent prayer was longer than usual, and Jenny supposed it had much to do with the celebratory spirit of the day . . . and the homecoming of this cherished family.
At the end of the prayer, little Sammy got down from his chair and went to sit on his Dawdi Samuel’s knee, sitting there for the longest time while Samuel beamed. It looked like the youngster had his heart set on remaining there for the entire meal, until Dan intervened when the chowchow was being passed around, coaxing Sammy back to his plate with the small wrapped present, which Jenny knew was a set of washable markers.
The table conversation was scarce at first as everyone enjoyed the spectacular meal. But later, when appetites were satisfied, the talk turned almost urgent, as if the principal players were all too aware of the space of time between now and their last visit here. Dan and Samuel, especially, filled in any existing lulls, as if determined no moments be wasted.
After the dessert dishes were cleared away and the children’s faces and hands were wiped clean, Katie spoke quietly to Jenny over near the sink, where she and Katie were washing and drying. Katie had urged Rebecca to go into the front room with Samuel and Dan and the children, insisting on helping clean up.
With hands deep in the sudsy water, Katie asked Jenny what had made her interested in living in the Amish community. “Did you have some experience with the People prior to coming?”
“Some.” She nodded. “I’ve been studying the Plain people since I was a girl. And I met Marnie, your cousin, at a roadside stand a few years ago, as well—my first personal link. I guess you could say I’ve always had a big hole in my heart . . . growing up English.”
Katie’s eyebrows rose. “How interesting.” She brought up the fact that while she herself had loved her Amish childhood, she had never felt a deep connection to the Old Ways. “But I guess you know by now I was adopted.” She laughed softly. “If you think about it, I was born fancy.”
Jenny said she understood.
“I just hope you’re not trying to find the ideal setup, you know.” Katie frowned as she handed Jenny the next washed plate. “I mean, in the church and the community here.”
“Your mother warned me the same way.”
Katie dried her hands. She touched her white cupped prayer cap and smiled. “A person can live for the Lord Jesus anywhere, really. The Amish don’t have a corner on piety, as I’m sure you know.”
Jenny listened—Katie was certainly outspoken.
Later, when they’d finished, they wandered over to the window and stood there looking out. “People can embrace the simple lifestyle just about anywhere.” Katie went on to say she and Dan had encountered searching souls from many walks of life. “Folk reexamining their entire approach to life . . . everything from wanting to downsize to rejecting materialism, or less modest ways of dress.”
Jenny agreed but wondered why Katie was making such a point of this. For Jenny, the attraction to Plain living had to do with all those things, but especially faith. There’s no place else I’d rather be. . . . Which made the thought of what was to come all the harder.
Chapter 44
The morning after Christmas, Andrew came to breakfast for the first time, along with Samuel’s other nephews. Jenny took pause at the irony of it all. She had not slept much the night before, knowing what she must do . . . today.
After breakfast, Andrew asked if she could walk out to his buggy. “I’d like to give you something. I didn’t want to wait till tonight.”
Another gift, she thought, feeling unworthy and guessing this must be the Christmas present he’d mentioned recently.
Today he demonstrated no hesitation about being seen alone with her, although they went to the side of his enclosed carriage opposite the house, where he offered the gift more privately. She thought of apologizing for not having a gift for him, but then, she hadn’t given anything but cards to anyone this year, her family included.
“This is something I wanted myself for a long time,” he said as she removed the festive bow and gift wrap to find a Deitsch version of the Bible. “I have one just like it.”
She was stunned. “Andrew, this is priceless!” She opened it reverently to see her name printed there and the date.
“It’s been more
than twenty years in the makin’, I’m told. Wycliffe Bible Translators have been working on this important project in Sugarcreek, Ohio—first came the New Testament, and now the rest of the Bible. They got the help of Pennsylvania Dutch linguists to double-check every word, every sentence.”
Jenny pressed the Bible to her heart and held it there. “This is the best present ever, Andrew. Denki so much.”
He smiled and shook his head. “A blessed Christmas to ya, one day late.” Andrew walked around the buggy with her, then got in and waved. “I’ll see ya tonight for our prayer time.”
She nearly choked, realizing she might not be there. Still, it was impossible to tell him here and now, to reveal that she had decided that she was leaving as soon as she could get a bus ticket home. “Oh, before I forget, I want to pay you for the phone call.”
He shook his head and insisted she not worry about it.
“I really want to,” she argued.
But he refused, smiling infectiously in the way she had come to know so well.
“Denki again, and have a good day, Andrew.” She turned to head for the house, her spirit dismayed. Thanks for everything.
“Till then,” she heard him call softly.
Jenny’s heart ached as she shuffled back inside. She sat with Rebecca at the kitchen table, painfully aware she was letting everyone down—especially herself. And Rebecca had no idea, which was best for now, since she was still caught up in reliving yesterday’s reunion, her face shining with the lingering joy of it.
Struggling with her emotions, Jenny had to look away. She could not bear this.
Rebecca wiped tears from her plump pink cheeks. “Ain’t many Christmases I’ll keep close in my heart like that one,” she said. “For always.”
Jenny wanted so badly to say how happy she was for her, but a dark, nearly suffocating curtain of anxiety hung around her. “I need to make a phone call,” she said at last. She would miss the bright and sunny kitchen, and Rebecca, too. But she would not miss her failures here.
“Must you right now?” Rebecca’s expression revealed more than curiosity.
“I’ll be back to help you prepare the noon meal.” Then I’ll start packing.
“Ach, take your time, dear. Looks like a perty day, in spite of the cold,” remarked Rebecca. “A nice mornin’ for a long walk.”
Jenny glanced at the sky, where snow clouds hovered on the northwest horizon. “We might be in for a storm,” she said, stating it the way Marnie liked to. Oh, Marnie, she thought. We’re leaving the very same week. . . .
When she’d finished her coffee, Jenny hurried up to her room to get her purse. Back downstairs, she took time to layer up for the trek to the phone shanty, aware of Rebecca’s inquisitive looks, though they were indisputably more about Jenny’s earlier visit with Andrew than anything else. She walked to the back door with one look back at Rebecca, who sat staring absently at her second cup of coffee, plump hands curved around it.
It’s wrong of me to keep enjoying her good graces! Jenny convinced herself once more of that as she walked down the drive, past the heavenly little springhouse and pond, then turned onto Hickory Lane. And suddenly, she remembered the cabbie’s words as he dropped her off at that very spot. “In case things don’t work out, here’s your ticket out of Plainville . . . back to the real world.” She hadn’t taken his business card at the time, thinking she’d never need it.
No matter how much she wished and prayed, the Lord wasn’t coming down to help her make a decent loaf of bread or successfully hitch up a driving horse. Nor would He stop Marnie and Naomi from leaving, or protect Jenny from having to be honest with the bishop. God’s not lifting the Bann from Dan and Katie, either—nor will He keep it from Rebecca.
She attempted to keep her emotions in check. Hadn’t she become more adept at that, wanting to emulate the other women here—their generally stoic approach?
Only a few more hours remained . . . then she could release her sorrow.
———
Jenny took her time heading for the phone shanty, remembering all too happily walking that way with Andrew to search for Chester Lapp’s beloved pup. Today was definitely colder, and dense gray clouds were rolling in quickly. If she was to get out of here before the storm hit, she needed to keep moving.
She loved Hickory Hollow, here for only two months, yet it felt like nearly a lifetime. The life I always dreamed of . . . She had met the most wonderful people—Rebecca, Ella Mae, Marnie, and Andrew—and learned things she never would have learned elsewhere. She had planned to stay forever but hadn’t even made it to the new year.
At that moment, she noticed a car coming this way, a tan Ford. Stepping off onto the right shoulder, she lowered her head as she’d seen Amishwomen do when a vehicle approached.
The car slowed and then stopped. “Excuse me, miss,” a male driver said, the window down. “I wonder if you might help me locate the Lapp residence.”
The voice sounded surprisingly familiar, and Jenny glanced up to see a dark-haired man, his face shielded partly by the visor. Her heart pumped hard.
Can it be?
“Which Lapps are you looking for?” she asked, her voice shaky. “There are quite a few around here.”
The man held up an envelope. “Samuel and Rebecca Lapp,” he replied, smiling.
Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized this very handsome young man.
Marnie had a serious case of cabin fever. She’d stayed home yesterday cooking and serving Christmas dinner, then helped her mother get caught up on some much-needed sewing for Daed, once the kinfolk cleared out and left for home. Now she was in the process of making a list of things she wanted to take over to Fishers’ in a few days. She also wanted to see Jenny, feeling bad about how she had complicated her seeker-friend’s life. I should be more supportive. She also had a wall hanging she’d made and planned to give as a belated gift.
Marnie got her warmest coat and scarf and headed down Hickory Lane to visit Jenny for a while that Wednesday afternoon, assuming that if her friend was busy redding up after the Christmas festivities, she might just stay and help.
But almost as soon as she left the front yard and was making her way onto the road, Marnie spotted a tan vehicle stopped in the middle. The dark-haired driver was leaning out the window, talking to Jenny!
What the world?
Marnie hurried her pace, but when Jenny walked over to the car, Marnie hung back a bit, not sure what she was seeing.
Thinking better of it, she turned and went to look in the mailbox and discovered a letter from Roy. How bold of him—he’s honestly dared to send one directly here? Her heart fluttered with happiness, and glancing down the road again, she decided to go back to the stable and warm up a bit while reading the letter. Oh, was she ever glad she’d found this before Mamm came to check the mail, although Marnie was sure her mother would never keep one of Roy’s letters from her, disappointed in Marnie though she was.
She perched herself on an old bench near chestnut-colored Willis, her favorite driving horse, and read the letter. Roy wanted Marnie to think about meeting him at his church in Bird-in-Hand, once she’d settled in at Fishers’. I’m trying to decide on the right one for us to join. As you know, I want God’s will in all of this, he’d written.
His church? Marnie put her head down on her knees and gritted her teeth. Like Roy, she yearned to seek the Lord more fully, but this would only compound problems. After her father’s reaction in the milk house, she knew that for certain.
Something had to give, but what? And on this day after Christmas, with Jenny down the road talking to an Englischer, Marnie had an ominous feeling some very big changes were coming. And fast.
Chapter 45
Kyle?” Jenny was shocked at the sight of her former fiancé.
Kyle Jackson’s brown eyes searched hers; then he studied her Amish dress and apron. “Looks like you did it,” he said quietly. “You pulled it off, Jenny.”
She approached
his car. He looked the same, although his brown hair was longer than she remembered. Suddenly feeling ill at ease, she slipped a hand into her coat pocket. “What are you doing here, Kyle?”
“I just happened to be in the area. . . .” He grinned at his own joke, the same old bravado, only now it felt out of place.
“I’m serious. How did you find—” She stopped. “Wait. Did my mom give you the address? Or was it Pamela or Dorie?” She was upset. “Oh, maybe it was Kiersten.”
“Jenny.” He hesitated a second, glancing toward the road, then back at her. “They’re all concerned, of course. But that’s not why I’m here.”
She let that sink in. “So . . . my mom sent you?”
“No, Jen. It’s not like that.”
He explained that he’d contacted her mom a few weeks ago and was told Jenny had “made the leap to the Amish,” as he put it. “Then, when I said I wanted to visit you, she was excited and gave me the envelope you sent her, with the return address for the Lapps.”
Taking a step back, Jenny took a deep breath—why today?—and slowly let it out.
Kyle indicated that he wanted to pull over and park, which he did before quickly getting out. Tall and wonderfully appealing, he wore dark jeans, a striped button-down shirt, and a black leather jacket. Leaning on the driver’s side of the car, he put his hands in his pockets and exhaled a plume of moisture. “It’s cold out. Can I drive you somewhere?”
It was cold.
“I was headed for the phone shack up the road,” she said, still amazed he was here.
Kyle turned, shielding his eyes as he looked into the sun. “May I at least walk with you?” he asked, his dark eyes pleading.
She shrugged, not pleased at the prospect but uncertain what to say. She gestured to his car. “We might as well drive, then.”
He broke into a smile, going around with her to open the front passenger door. She got in and was immediately aware of the familiar scent of car leather and the plush surroundings. For a second or two she felt disoriented.
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