by Amy Clipston
The sudden and urgent need to pray clamped around his rib cage. For the first time since he lost Gabriel, he longed to fully open his heart to God and ask for guidance.
“God,” he whispered, his voice soft and unsure in the darkness of Gabriel’s room. “My life has been a mess since Gabriel died. Please help me figure out who I am and where I belong. And please help me mend my broken relationship with Dat. I know I don’t deserve your love or guidance. I’m sorry for all my mistakes and for all the hurt I’ve caused both to my family members and to Emily. Help me make things right and be a better man. In Jesus’ holy name, amen.”
Chris closed his eyes and felt himself drifting into a peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER 25
EMILY RAN HER FINGER ALONG THE FENCE AND SHIVERED AS she walked toward the back of the pasture. In the distance she could still hear the voices pouring from her parents’ house and the surrounding area. Laughter and conversations echoed through the air, transforming into a murmur of happy noise, a stark contrast to her mood.
She looked up at the clear evening sky as guilt and shame sliced through her soul. She had no right to frown or even to run off to be by herself on Rachel’s special day. After all, the wedding had been perfect, and Rachel had been happy, absolutely giddy, after the ceremony.
Rachel was radiant in her purple dress as Emily and Veronica stood by as attendants and more than two hundred members of their community packed into her father’s largest barn to witness the ceremony. Mike had glowed with equal excitement, and he looked handsome, just as John, Jason, and Mike’s cousin Samuel had.
Emily stopped walking and leaned on the fence to watch the horses grazing in the pasture. She was a horrible person for hiding out by the pasture alone. She should be mingling with the guests and celebrating with her family.
She shivered again in the chilly November air. She wasn’t envious of Rachel. In fact, she was thrilled for her sister. Rachel had found happiness after her ex-boyfriend had broken her heart. At the same time, however, Emily had spent most of the wedding thinking about Chris. Her soul ached as memories of their short friendship flashed through her mind.
Not that long ago, Emily had envisioned Chris attending the wedding and celebrating alongside Emily and her family. Yet, in the blink of an eye, Chris told her he wasn’t baptized and couldn’t be with her. Then she hadn’t heard from him since he’d asked Tillie to give Emily that short message. She still pined for him.
Though they had all suggested Emily give Chris time, Mamm and her sisters had also encouraged her to attend youth gatherings. She was sure they hoped she’d find someone else and forget both Chris and the hurt he’d caused. She told them she didn’t want to go, but they continued to nag her, insisting it would be good for her. Emily vehemently disagreed. She wasn’t ready to forget Chris, and she also wasn’t ready to have her heart broken by someone else.
“Em?”
Emily turned as Veronica walked toward her, hugging a black sweater to her middle. “Veronica. How did you find me?”
Veronica shrugged. “It was a gut hunch. I remember you used to run out here when you were little. You said you liked how the pasture smelled out here.”
Emily laughed. “Ya, that’s true.” She breathed in the aroma of wood-burning fireplaces and the moist pasture. Somehow the air was always clearer out here. “You didn’t need to come looking for me.”
“I wanted to check on you. You’ve seemed preoccupied today.” Veronica leaned against the fence, and her hand moved over her abdomen. Although she still wasn’t showing, it seemed to be instinctive for her to prepare for the changes that would soon take place in her body.
“I have?” Emily frowned. “Oh no. Is Rachel upset with me? Did I do something wrong?”
Veronica sighed. “Oh, Emily. You’re always so worried about everyone else. You haven’t done anything wrong. I just noticed you look unhappy. That’s all.” She touched Emily’s arm. “How are you?”
Emily shrugged. “I’m fine.”
Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You’re still hurting, aren’t you?”
Emily touched the cold wooden fence post. “Ya, I am. Every night I beg God to heal my heart, but it still hurts. It hurts a lot.”
“I’m sorry.” Veronica gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“I miss him.” Emily’s voice was thick. “I thought he’d be here today. I imagined him sitting with you, Jason, and me while we ate. I thought maybe he’d stay after everyone else left, and we’d sit on the porch together and talk. We used to discuss everything. He was my best—” Her voice broke and she swallowed back a sob.
“Ach, Emily.” Veronica rubbed her shoulder. “I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love. I know this is different from when I lost Seth, but I still remember the hurt. It gets better. I promise you it does.”
“When?” Her voice was louder than she’d expected.
Veronica sighed. “I don’t know.”
Emily sniffed and wiped away an errant tear. She hated crying in front of Veronica, but she couldn’t stop the grief bubbling up inside of her.
“When I lost Seth, he was gone forever. Chris is still alive.”
“I know that.” Emily looked at her sister.
“Have you thought about reaching out to him?”
“No.” Emily shook her head. “If he cared about me, he would reach out to me. I don’t want to chase after someone who doesn’t love me.”
“But he did reach out to you. He sent a message through Tillie. Maybe he’s waiting for you to reach back.”
Emily paused.
“Didn’t you say you were working on a quilt for him for Christmas?”
“Ya, I’ve been working on it when I get a moment, but I haven’t had a chance to finish it because I had so much to do for the wedding.”
“Have you considered finishing it and mailing it to him as a gesture of friendship?” Veronica smiled. “You could send him the quilt and include a short note just to tell him you’re thinking of him. He might think you hate him and that’s why he hasn’t called you. Maybe if you reach out to him, you’ll open the door. He might be inspired to call you, and you can talk things through.”
Emily smoothed her hands over the fence post as she contemplated Veronica’s idea. Hope flourished deep in her soul, but a thread of doubt taunted her. “What if he doesn’t contact me after I send the quilt?”
“Em, I have a feeling he will contact you.” She touched Emily’s arm. “I can’t bear seeing you so sad. You’ve always been a pillar of strength for Rach and me. You’ve always told us to be positive and have faith. Now I need you to follow your own advice. I believe Chris loves you and he’s just afraid to call you. You need to have faith that I’m right.”
Emily smirked. “So I need to take my own advice.”
“Right.” Veronica grinned. “Do you need help with the quilt?”
“No, danki. But I think I’ll get back to it right away.”
“Good.”
Emily hugged Veronica and hoped her sister was right when she said Chris still cared for her.
THE AROMA OF ANIMALS AND HAY PERMEATED CHRIS’S SENSES as he entered the barn, holding a lantern to light his way past the stalls. Today was Rachel’s wedding, and as he’d spent the day helping install new cabinets in Paul’s kitchen, he couldn’t redirect his thoughts away from Emily. Chris smiled. She’d talked endlessly about everything she had to do for the wedding. Had she finished all the preparations on time? He nodded. Certainly she had.
He imagined she looked beautiful in the purple dress she made for the ceremony. Had she sat with a man as they ate the special dinner? The idea of Emily dating someone else nearly caused his stomach to churn with repulsion.
Why should she wait for you? You left her.
He needed to stop thinking about Emily and concentrate on the purpose of his visit to the barn. His nerves were frayed as his back tensed.
He reached the office at the back of the building. Dat sat at his desk. A lant
ern illuminated the small room where he wrote in an accounting book. His face was twisted in an intense frown as if he were contemplating a complicated problem.
Chris leaned a shoulder on the doorframe. He’d promised his mother more than a week ago that he would talk to Dat, and it had taken him this long to work up the courage to do it.
Several moments passed, and Dat didn’t turn or acknowledge Chris’s presence. Chris silently debated turning on his heel and heading back into the house, but he was tired of taking the coward’s way out. He not only wanted Dat to talk to him; he wanted him to listen. This estrangement had gone on long enough. It was time to hash it out and try to come to some sort of peaceful solution.
It’s now or never.
Chris took a deep breath and mustered all the emotional strength he could find deep in his soul.
“Dat.” His tone was thin and unsure. Disgusted with himself, Chris nearly rolled his eyes. He needed to be a confident man, not a nervous child.
“Dat.” Chris said the word again, with more determination.
Dat turned, faced Chris, and raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
Chris took a hesitant step into the small office. “I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
Dat leaned back against his chair and folded his arms over his wide chest. “Of course.” He leveled his gaze. “What would you like to discuss, Christopher? You took off for Pennsylvania without saying good-bye to me. Then when you finally called home, you only left a message for your mamm.” His eyes hardened. “Now you finally want to talk to me, so go ahead. Talk.”
Chris bristled at his father’s sardonic words, but he wasn’t going to allow Dat to intimidate him. He’d done that to Chris for too long. Chris was a man now, and he was going to stand his ground, no matter how much his father upset him.
“I finally want to talk to you? Is that how you see it?” Chris snapped, his hands shaking. “You didn’t go out of your way to talk to me when I got home. In fact, you acted as if you didn’t want me back.”
“You’re the one who ran off.” Dat sat up straight and pointed at him. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt your mamm when you left?”
Tension and fury crawled up Chris’s back and settled on his shoulders, coiling the muscles into tight knots. “I had to go.” His words trembled.
“Why? I don’t remember throwing you out.”
“No, but you made it clear you didn’t want me here.” Chris took another step into the office.
“What do you mean?”
“You took every opportunity you could to remind me it was my fault Gabriel died. You threw it in my face day after day, even when you didn’t actually say the words. I didn’t want Gabriel to get hurt.” Chris’s voice cracked. “I never wanted him to die.” Tears stung his eyes and choked back his words.
In one swift motion, Dat stood and pulled Chris into a tight hug. Chris was so stunned he stiffened. He couldn’t remember a time when his father had hugged him. The feeling was so new, so foreign, that he was knocked off balance for a moment.
“I know, son,” Dat whispered, his voice shaky.
Chris patted his father’s back and sniffed back tears.
“I never meant to blame you,” Dat murmured, his voice now strained. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so very sorry.”
Chris blinked. Had he heard his father correctly?
Dat took a step back and wiped his eyes. “You’re the bigger man than I am for coming to me. I was too stubborn and prideful to talk to you and apologize when you first arrived home.”
Confusion crept through Chris, pushing away his fury. This was not how he imagined this conversation would go.
“I never meant to drive you away. I took out my guilt about buying that horse on you, and I’m sorry. I’m the bishop, and I’m supposed to be an example for the rest of our community to follow. Instead, I’ve been nothing but sinful and prideful, blaming you for Gabriel’s death, and I’m ashamed. It wasn’t your fault.”
Chris shook his head while trying to gather his thoughts. “But I was the one who told Gabriel to lead the horse out to the pasture.” His voice quavered. “I wanted to try to train it so I could prove myself to you.”
Dat’s face contorted. “Why did you feel you had to prove yourself to me?”
Chris snorted. Is he serious? “I was tired of you comparing me to Paul. You kept saying Paul was much more skilled as a horse trainer by the time he was my age, and I needed to catch up to him. So I felt I had to do something to change your mind.” Chris was grateful his words were steady and strong as he shared his most painful feelings. “But I’m not Paul. I’m not good with horses and I don’t like working with them.”
Dat opened his mouth, but no words passed his lips. For the first time in Chris’s life, his father was speechless.
“I left because I was tired of disappointing you. After Gabriel died, things were worse than ever between you and me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why I called Onkel Hank and asked him if I could stay with him until I figured out what I was going to do with my life. I only came back to help Paul after Mamm told me about the fire.”
Dat looked stunned for a moment. Then he pointed to a stool across from the desk. “Let’s talk this out. Please, sit.”
Chris sat down on the stool as Dat lowered himself into his desk chair. Chris studied his father, surprised by the anguish in his hazel eyes.
“Christopher,” Dat began, his tone still thin and wobbly, “I never wanted to push you away. You’re my son.”
Chris’s chest squeezed at the tenderness in the statement.
“I thought you left because you hated me for making you feel guilty,” Dat admitted.
Chris shook his head with emphasis. “I never hated you, Dat. I just wanted you to forgive me for my mistake. I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted you to look at me the way you always looked at Paul.” He folded his shaky arms over his middle.
“I am proud of you. I’m proud of all three of my buwe.” He gasped and his eyes misted over.
Dat’s stricken face left Chris feeling as empty as an echo.
“I’m sorry for comparing you to Paul.” Dat took a long, deep breath. “I didn’t realize those comments had hurt you, and it wasn’t fair. You and Paul are unique in your own ways.” He fiddled with his beard, a mannerism Chris had always seen him do when he was deep in thought while delivering a sermon in front of their congregation. “I’ve always seen a lot of myself in you. You have my personality. You’re stubborn and tenacious, and I thought you would take to the horse training like I did.”
His face contorted into a deep scowl. “I was so disappointed when you never seemed to put any effort into learning how to properly train the horses, when you showed so little interest. Paul was eager to learn even without much encouragement. When he started his own business, I hoped maybe you would finally show some interest so I could leave the farm to you.
“I had worked so hard for so many years to get this farm going, and if none of my sons wanted it, it would have to be sold off. I thought maybe Gabriel might take it over, but then . . .”
Cold knots tightened like a rope around Chris’s chest.
“Dat, I’m sorry, but I just—”
“Stop apologizing,” Dat said, interrupting Chris. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re welcome here. This is your home.” He pointed to the ground. “You’re part of this family, and Gabriel’s death was not your fault.”
Stunned, Chris nodded. For months he’d yearned to hear his father tell him he wasn’t to blame for Gabriel’s death. Now that Dat had said the words, he suddenly felt as though grief would knock him off the stool.
“I’m so sorry about Gabriel,” Chris whispered, his voice quavering again. “If I could go back in time and tell him to stay away from that horse, I would. I’m so sorry, Dat. Please forgive me.” Tears stung his eyes, and his lower lip trembled.
“It’s my fault, Christopher, not yours. It was my stubborn pride that made me buy
that horse even though Paul told me not to.” He leaned forward and touched Chris’s arm. “You can’t let this eat you up inside.”
Chris sniffed, but confusion lingered inside of him. “I don’t know how to let it go. I have nightmares about the accident.”
Dat winced. “You have nightmares?”
Chris described the dreams, how they always ended with Gabriel dying in front of him. “The nightmares aren’t as frequent, but I still have them. I wake up sobbing, and I don’t know how to move past the guilt. Mei freind Emily said I have to forgive myself, but I don’t know how.”
“Ask God to help you,” Dat said. “Only he can heal us.”
Chris suddenly recalled what Emily had said about how God could make him whole again. She was right.
“You’re not a failure and you’re not a disappointment,” Dat said. “You’re my son and I love you, Christopher.” He paused, his eyes wet with anguish. “I was too stubborn and prideful to reach out to you when you left, but I hope we can start over and make things right between us.”
All the anger and resentment he’d harbored against his father drained from his heart. And what Mamm had suggested suddenly rang true. Chris was just as stubborn as Dat, and he had held off from being baptized in part to spite him.
“Are you all right?” Dat asked. “You have a strange look on your face.”
“Ya, I’m okay.” Chris nodded. “I just realized I’m partly to blame for all the issues we’ve had between us. I’m so sorry.”
Dat’s facial features softened. “You and I are very much alike. We’re both stubborn and quick-tempered.”
“Ya, we sure are.” He pursed his lips. “Are you disappointed I haven’t been baptized?”
Dat gave him a half-shrug. “I always believed you’d come to the faith in your own time.”
“How do you know when you’re ready to be baptized?”
Dat tapped his chest over his heart. “You know in here.”
Chris leaned back against the wall behind him. “I always believed I wasn’t gut enough for the church. That was one of the reasons I never joined.”