It had crushed her all over again. When she had healed enough that she could take full breaths, her hurt turned to anger, and she wrestled with herself until she found peace with losing Van and watching him fall in love, marry, and welcome children. Or maybe she’d just found resignation. She only knew that what bothered her wasn’t so much that he’d left her and married someone else but how he’d done it. That used to keep her up at night, but she had finally submitted to it and decided it was best to refuse to think about it. But the how had ruined every bit of friendship that could’ve been salvaged.
Was anything on this earth more ugly or difficult to bear than true love turning into bitter disillusion?
She studied the old clapboard house where she’d been born. Across the yards—the front, sides, and back—were six dogwood trees, one for each of Benny and Rosanna Keim’s children. Jolene had carefully nurtured each from a cutting of the original tree her Daed had given to her Mamm as a wedding gift. The original tree had died within a year of her parents’ passing.
Thanks to Lester Fisher lowering the rent in exchange for Naomi and her cleaning his home, doing laundry, and cooking a few meals each week, they’d been able to stay in this house. At first Lester was gruff and difficult, but as time passed, they became good friends, and he’d made some really generous offers to help her and her family. As they grew closer, she began to confide in him. When she told him about her desire to paint and about the last gift her Daed had given her, Lester did something she never would have imagined possible. He gave her a way to free a piece of her soul. Although they didn’t live in the same church district, they did have the same bishop, and despite artwork being against the bishop’s edicts, Lester set up an art studio for her in his attic. At times that haven had seemed essential for her sanity. He’d put a padlock on the door to his attic, and he’d installed a warning bell that rang in the attic so that if she was up there painting when a visitor came by, she had time to scurry from the attic before anyone entered the house. It was a good system, because all these years later no one else knew their secret. This exacting, difficult man had a soft spot for her.
She studied the house again. She’d been painting it when time allowed, but for the most part that only made it look worse—new rows of paint against weathered, peeling rows for months at a time. The home sat within easy walking distance of downtown Maple Shade, a small, now-thriving historic town at the heart of Winter Valley that had a clinic and a doctor. Wouldn’t her Mamm have loved to live long enough to see that?
In addition to the pleasure of the Mother’s Day celebration, Jolene had much to be grateful for. One of the biggest blessings was that whenever challenges had arisen—lack, frustrations, arguments, and everything else—she and her siblings had faced them together. Of her five little chicks, as they called themselves, only two remained in the nest—eighteen-year-old Ray and fourteen-year-old Hope.
Josiah, now twenty-six, Michael, now twenty-four, and Naomi, now twenty-two, were married. Michael had married last fall, and Naomi had married five months ago in December. Both had moved out, but they hadn’t gone far. Jolene still found it surprising how quiet the house seemed after two siblings moved out mere months apart.
How different would her life look in another decade? She was twenty-nine now, only ten years younger than her mama was when she died.
“Jolene?” The familiar voice washed over her, and she turned to see her oldest brother riding bareback toward her. What was he doing here this time of day on a Monday? He held up an index card. “Ruth wrote out the recipe last night for the carrot bread she brought over yesterday.”
“Gut. I’m going to make it and see if the bakery would like to carry it as a regular item. It was that good.” Jolene made pastries from home for the bakeshop four days a week, and she worked behind the counter about twenty hours a week in addition to cleaning a few houses. She baked at home to avoid being gone too much, because Ray still had some impulsivity issues from time to time. She didn’t know whether it was the lingering effects of having been struck by lightning as a child or simply a lack of maturity. Whatever the cause, she and Ray would get through this.
Josiah studied the upstairs windows and then looked at the small barn. It was more of a shed really, but it served as a barn for their horse.
She followed his gaze. “Something on your mind?”
“Oh, uh, no. Not really.”
She laughed. “You’re a really bad liar. The recipe was an excuse, wasn’t it?”
“I intended to bring it by this evening on my way home from work.” He shrugged. “But, ya, it was my excuse.”
“Why fib?”
“Trying to protect you from too much worry.” His lopsided grin let her know that was the truth.
Ah, so now they were getting down to the real issue. The way he was studying the house and barn, she wondered if someone from the town council had come to him with another request that they complete the painting of their home.
They would finish, but it was a huge task to paint a clapboard house. She’d discovered that the hard way. Preacher Glen had offered to get a group of barn raisers together this summer to help Josiah, Michael, and Ray finish the job. But she hadn’t accepted, assuring him other Amish families had far more needs than her family did. The Amish didn’t accept government assistance of any kind, didn’t have standard insurance to cover health or property, and didn’t limit the number of children a couple had, so there was no shortage of Amish families in need.
She appreciated Glen’s offer. She’d known him all her life, she supposed, although her first real memory of him was attending his wedding when she was ten. She was also present six years later when he was chosen to be a preacher. He and his wife helped her navigate through the nightmare of losing her parents and Van.
In turn, Jolene was there for them when, a little more than two years ago, his wife’s body succumbed to what had begun as breast cancer. By the time his wife was diagnosed, the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes and bones. Within a few months she yielded to death, leaving him brokenhearted and with five of the cutest little boys Jolene had ever seen. Jolene was one of many women who’d cooked meals and helped take care of his children.
But one thing bothered her a little. Had Glen offered to get a work party together to paint her house because he wanted to spend time around her? She hoped not. As far as being well suited, they were capable of being good friends, but husband and wife? She couldn’t see that ever happening.
Before she could ask Josiah again what was on his mind, a horse trotted onto the driveway, pulling a wagon driven by Naomi. “Hey!” She was breathless and clearly in a hurry, so Jolene and Josiah strode to her.
Naomi gulped in air. “Lester’s in a tizzy. Apparently he called my phone shanty four days ago and left me a message to come cook and clean. Something about his great-nephew from Apple Ridge and volunteers from the Humane Society coming … or are there now. He’d wanted breakfast, lunch, and dinner too, but I didn’t get the phone message. He sent his grandson David to my place to see why I wasn’t at his house. David said Lester is upset because men have been there since daylight, working. They’re already hungry, and I don’t have any food for them.”
Jolene held up a hand. “Naomi, breathe.”
Some of this panic could be considered Jolene’s fault. She and Naomi had worked for Lester for the last ten years, but Jolene didn’t have a phone. She felt that it, like a lot of things, was an expense they could live without. But that wasn’t the real reason she got rid of it. She’d had it removed because she couldn’t bear people calling here looking for her Mamm or Daed, especially newly pregnant women hoping Jolene’s Mamm would be their midwife. So they made do without a phone. Naomi and she had set days when they cleaned people’s homes, and if people needed to change the schedule, they would inform her or Naomi well in advance.
Since getting married, Naomi had access to a phone that she shared with several of her in-laws. The problem with multiple fa
milies in the vicinity sharing a phone was that messages didn’t always reach the intended party.
“I have dozens of fresh-baked pastries for this afternoon’s delivery to the bakery. We’ll use those and lots of coffee to take the edge off their hunger. Then we’ll make sandwiches and soup for lunch while we put roasts on for tonight. When we get through with all that, we’ll make plans for tomorrow. I can drop everything and go right now. You?”
“Ya, but it’s ten o’clock, and he expects clean sheets on the beds and the floors done, and there could be twenty people to feed.”
“Goodness, girl.” Jolene winked. Most who knew Lester Fisher were afraid of him, but Jolene had grown to love the old man. He was often prickly with those he didn’t like, but to her, he was a secret keeper and a good friend. “We can slay this dragon and have time left over to prop up our feet.” Big exaggeration, but Naomi’s taut shoulders relaxed.
Jolene turned to Josiah. What had been on his mind when he arrived? “Hope is helping Mrs. Pinson clean windows this morning. You know where Mrs. Pinson lives, right?”
“The small brick home on the corner of Walnut and Chestnut.”
“That’s right. On your way back to the cabinet shop, would you stop by there and tell Hope we need her to join us at Lester’s house as soon as possible?”
“Sure thing.”
“And it’d be best if Ray stayed at the shop all day today and went home with you after work.”
Josiah’s face formed lines of concern, but he nodded. “Sure.”
Was Josiah here because of something with Ray and work? If so, they would need to discuss it later. Not only did Lester need them, but Jolene had left the key to his attic hanging on the nail near the attic door. What had she been thinking? Surely no one would need to unlock it and go up there.
Surely.
Jolene turned to Naomi. “Let’s get the pastries and go slay this dragon.”
Ray hid inside the dilapidated building, wishing it would fall on him and end everybody’s misery. He kicked a support beam, causing dust and debris to rain down. So what if he’d messed up at the cabinet shop and drilled the holes for the hardware in the wrong place! Old Man Yoder didn’t have to yell at him in front of everybody. He hated that kind of work. Hated that Josiah still treated him like a ten-year-old little brother.
Life stunk! He shoved the support beam, and it creaked and moaned while shifting a fraction. A board on the other side of the room fell, causing dust to fly. Ray wiped tears from his eyes. He was too old to be a crybaby.
The sound of horse hoofs against pavement drew his attention, and he stepped out of the dark building. Trees surrounded him on all sides, so despite hearing a rig on the road, he couldn’t see it. Not yet anyway. Not until it rounded dead man’s curve. He looked at his watch and realized he’d been gone from the shop quite a while. He started for the road.
Josiah hadn’t been at the shop when Ray messed up and Yoder yelled at him. If his brother was back, it’d take him about two seconds to realize Ray wasn’t there, and he’d go searching for him. And he’d start by going to the house.
Dead leaves crunched under his heavy boots as he walked toward the road. Ray’s thoughts reached into the past, going back thirteen years. He couldn’t remember being struck by lightning, but he remembered having sausage at breakfast just a few hours before it happened. Would life be different for him if he hadn’t been struck? Would he be better? Better at math or blueprints like his brothers? Would his mother have loved him more? He’d never told anyone, not even Jolene, but Ray had overheard his mother talking to his aunt one night. Just above a whisper she said that he was worse than useless, that he was a burden to everyone around him. His mother’s haunting words continued to ring in his ears. He could barely tolerate the thought that Jolene might feel the way their mother had, but these days as they argued more and more, he wondered.
He just wasn’t good at anything … except worrying Jolene.
“Hello!” The elongated word from a male voice caused Ray to look up and realize he’d walked half a mile down the paved road while lost in his thoughts.
The three guys in a buggy—Alvin, Urie, and James—were a few years older than he was. Alvin had the reins. Ray ignored them and kept on walking.
“Where you headed, Ray?”
Ray shrugged, ignoring Alvin.
“Maybe he don’t know,” Urie piped in.
“I know,” Ray hollered over his shoulder.
“You want a ride?” James asked.
Ray stopped. James was one of Van’s younger brothers, and unlike the others James had never been mean to him. Then again, Ray and James never attended school together. James had moved to Winter Valley a few years after he’d graduated, coming here to apprentice under Van. Besides, Ray didn’t have a problem with James. Only Van. Not many months after his parents died, Ray needed to ask Jolene something, so he went looking for her. She was near the barn, and he overheard her and Van talking. He didn’t know what Van had said, but she was crying. Ray had wanted to punch him, but he was afraid Jolene would be upset that he’d been eavesdropping, so he remained hidden. Van never came back after that. But from that day to this, Ray had refused to talk to anyone in the Beiler family unless forced to.
“Kumm on.” Alvin grinned and nodded. “We’re all friends.”
Ray glanced at Alvin and Urie. “I’ve got blisters on my feet that are better friends than you two.”
Alvin laughed. “You’re all right, you know that?” He motioned for him. “Can’t blame a man for calling it as he sees it. We haven’t been friends, and we shoulda been nicer in school. It’s way past time we started fresh. Okay?”
Ray’s leeriness eased when James smiled and nodded, and he didn’t see any harm in hitching a ride. He did need to get back quicker than he could by foot. “All right.”
Alvin shoved Urie’s shoulder. “Get in the back and let the man have your seat.”
Ray got in. It felt sort of good to hang out with these guys. All the girls wanted to go out with them.
“Where to, Ray?” James asked.
He slumped. “The cabinet shop.”
Alvin clicked his tongue, and the horse started down the road again. “You say that like it’s no fun at all.”
“It’s not.” Ray propped his arm on the open window.
Urie leaned across the back of the seat. “We’re on our way back to work too. Mondays are the worst. Thank God for weekends, though. You do anything special on the weekends?”
He shook his head. “Just rest and do chores.”
Alvin’s eyes lit up. “You could go with us. We don’t do much, but we’ll help you have a little fun. Sometimes we meet up with a few girls.”
“Can’t.” Although he wasn’t sure why. He was eighteen. His siblings had gone out with friends on the weekends when they were his age. He turned around, catching James’s eye. “Should I?”
James shrugged and Alvin elbowed him. When James didn’t say anything else, Ray faced the front again.
“Well”—Alvin turned and looked at James—“I think he should consider going. Don’t you, James?”
“Ya, sure.”
Alvin came to a stop in front of the cabinetry shop. “We could meet you right here Friday night, say, around eight o’clock.”
He sort of wanted to, but it didn’t feel like a good idea, and Jolene said he should trust his gut in such matters. Sometimes it seemed as if Jolene was his mama, and he needed to cut the apron strings. But he shook his head. “Nee.”
“Having fun on the weekends makes the workweek more tolerable.”
“At eight?” Why had Ray asked?
“Ya.”
Hmm. That would give him time to get his chores done, but would Jolene mind? He was old enough to decide on his own. Besides, Jolene might be glad to have a few hours outside of work when Ray wasn’t underfoot.
“I’ll think about it.”
5
“It’s okay.” Andy gently eased toward
the horse, hoping to encourage her to back out of the trailer and down the ramp. He’d arrived at Lester’s farm at dawn in the cab of the truck pulling the first trailer of horses. Five hours later he was unloading the last of the twenty-three horses, and she was every bit as skittish and difficult to handle as the first one had been. He could hear the other horses in the corral, whinnying and stomping against the fence to see if they could get free.
After letting the horse sniff him, he patted her and inched forward, trying to get her to back up. She reared and whinnied. Andy flung himself back to avoid a direct kick. There wasn’t a spot on his body that didn’t hurt, either from the days of hard work or from bruises inflicted by feral horses. “You’re doing great,” he murmured gently even as his heart feared taking another hit. Despite wearing protective gear, he was banged up.
He eased forward and stroked her neck. “Let’s just keep backing up.” He continued to crowd her by stepping closer to her face as she remained inside the horsebox with its narrow sides. She whinnied and stomped in protest. “I know,” he cooed, “but you’ve got to be unloaded.” She took a few steps back. “That’s a girl.” She reluctantly walked backward down the trailer ramp. When her back hoofs stumbled off the ledge where the ramp met the dirt, she reared, knocking Andy down, and bolted into the corral.
Some of the volunteers who were watching him clapped as the last horse entered the corral. Andy just sat on the ramp and gathered his wits, grateful to finally have these horses where they needed to be. After FedEx had dropped off the information, he’d called Uncle Lester, who agreed to the plan. Andy had then called Renee, the executive director of the Humane Society. As she explained the situation, it became clear to him that the Humane Society needed as many skilled volunteers as possible. Within two hours he was on his way to the makeshift triage center in central Pennsylvania. He’d left home Thursday night. Today was Monday, and he’d slept little in between.
A Love Undone Page 4