The phone beeped and it was her dad. “Where’ve you been?” she answered.
He was laughing . . . really laughing, like she hadn’t heard for a while. “You’ll never believe this,” he said.
“Um . . . what?”
“I just bought some land in the middle of Amish country. How weird is that?”
She nearly shrieked. “You what?!”
“You heard me.” He was still laughing, and it made her smile.
“Well, where?” There were numerous Plain communities around the country.
“Just north of Bird-in-Hand. You must see it sometime,” he said. “I’m in Lancaster County now—remember all the summers here?”
“Hey, cool, Dad.” This was just too coincidental. She couldn’t believe it. “So you bought land for what?”
“I don’t know—I’ll have a hobby farm or plant vegetables.”
“Dad . . .”
“I’m serious.”
“So, you’re moving there?”
“First I have to put a house on it.” He mentioned using some of the proceeds from Mom’s life insurance policy. “Of course, I could sign the land over to you, Heather . . . for your wedding dowry.” He chuckled into the phone. “Like the Amish.”
She laughed at the thought. Dad and his crazy ideas . . .
“I’ll be home in a few days.”
And I’ll be leaving. . . .
She was still surprised he was calling from Pennsylvania.
“Uh, Dad?” Should she tell him she was heading there, too?
“Look, honey, I’ve got to run. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Okay. See ya.” She found this all so amazing. Wow, to think we’re on the same wavelength for the first time. How weird is this?
Wondering if Don was still at his computer, she sent him another message: So terrific hearing from you! You guys be safe.
Hoping for more, she carried her phone around for the rest of the evening. But she heard nothing further as she added another few pages to her thesis.
Judah spent a good part of Saturday night looking in on his lambs. He’d given Adam and Joe the night off—they needed to catch up on sleep. And it wasn’t fair to ask Grace and Mandy to help outside, since they’d done so much to get the house and barn ready for tomorrow’s Preaching.
It was his responsibility to make sure this brand-new set of twins survived and were not rejected by their mother—although he was seeing signs of that already. At least one of the newborns might have to be adopted by another ewe, which meant even more hands-on work. He was willing and able to do it, but the prospect of the continuing lack of sleep was daunting right now.
Recalling Lettie’s restlessness, he wondered if her exhaustion had been part of the reason for her depression. Judah let out his air in one long breath. It was impossible to know what had been on her mind. He rubbed his sore neck, thinking back to the evening before his wife had left.
“I want you to hear this from me,” she’d said, eyes intent on him.
Hear what? That she loved someone else?
Impossible, he thought. A desperate lump of regret churned in his gut, devouring him.
“Was it ’cause she didn’t think you’d listen?” Adam had boldly asked at the table, in the hearing of his brother and sisters. And none of them, not even Grace or Mandy, had defended their father.
What if he had stayed to hear her out? Would Lettie still be here? He shook his head. I can’t change the past. The thought gave him no consolation, and he was consumed with worry for his troubled wife, out there alone somewhere in the modern and wicked world.
He hoped, if nothing else, she was getting some rest at last. Sleep, and the Lord’s watch care, might just work wonders.
Long after the newborn lambs had finished nursing, Judah remained there in the hay, soon limp with sleep.
Andy Riehl’s rooster crowed and awakened Judah with a start. It was the Lord’s Day, and he rose, shaking the straw off, aware again of the shooting pain in his upper back and neck. But he couldn’t let it slow him down; he must begin a flurry of chores, just as on a weekday.
He made haste to the house and got Adam and Joe up and going. He didn’t need to prompt Grace, who would be rising soon to start breakfast, rousing Mandy once the meal was underway. His younger daughter wasn’t much for rising early. He remembered once smiling with Lettie about that.
He wondered if his wife was up and dressing for Preaching, wherever she was staying. He opened the pasture gate and let the sheep out to graze, watching the mighty frisky baby lambs bob after their mothers. The smallest ones worried him most. Keeping them alive was sometimes a chore and a half.
Adam and Joe came downstairs quickly, no dillydallying. The Lord had given him some mighty fine sons and daughters. A good thing, too, because there was much work to be done. He expected a good forty or so lambs this spring, assuming they all survived.
He glanced at Adam and Joe as they headed to the sheep barn. They’d need to freshen the straw for the new mothers-to- be. He hoped none of the ewes would go into labor today, with church being held here.
There was the not-so-small matter of Preacher Josiah Smucker, too. Anticipating the coming confrontation drained him, and he hoped whatever Josiah had to say wouldn’t take up too much time. Truth was, Judah had neither knowledge nor time to spare. He thought of calling Martin Puckett tomorrow to see if he’d drive him over to the blacksmith shop first thing—although word had it Martin had disappeared the same day Lettie had. All that hearsay seemed out-and-out strange. Martin and Lettie?
He would not allow the ridiculous murmurings to cloud his judgment. Lettie—and Martin, too—were surely innocent of any wrongdoing. Might be a good thing to let the unsuspecting fellow know what was being said about him.
Reaching for his hayfork, Judah shook his head. Des hot ken Verschtand!—This is absurd! He wondered if Lettie had any idea what a hornet’s nest her departure had stirred.
chapter
twenty-one
Sometimes innocent things done in a spirit of kindness—even out of intended care—came back to bite you. Martin pondered this on the drive to the church where he and Janet had attended all their married life. He’d gone to this church even longer, having joined at seventeen. Nearly an eon ago.
Keeping his hands at ten and two o’clock on the steering wheel, he wondered if something was up with his Amish regulars. Despite his having been out of town for several days, he had returned to find not a single message requesting transportation from any of the Bird-in-Hand folk. Even those who called from farther to the west—Intercourse—and to the north, from Stumptown, had not contacted him since last Thursday.
He thought again of Lettie Byler . . . and of Pete Bernhardt’s standoffishness at Penn Station. Had Pete anything to do with the major drop-off in business? Martin certainly hoped not.
Pulling into the church parking lot, he spotted Victor Murray, one of their longtime ushers, and waved. He got out and hurried around to open Janet’s car door.
If Martin didn’t hear something soon from either Andy Riehl or Judah Byler himself, he’d have to wander over there and make small talk. The silence was not only disconcerting but utterly deafening.
Judah hung back a ways from the house, fanning himself with his straw hat. From the backyard, he observed Adam and Joe, along with their boy cousins, greeting the People as they pulled into the driveway in their buggies. Adam had designated certain lads to help unhitch horses and lead them to the barn for water.
Judah was mighty pleased at the efficient assembly line before him, considering what his sons were going through. Folk looked right through to your heart at a time like this, and Judah himself was ready to have the day over and done with. He reached back to rub his neck; the pain was nearly unbearable now.
Here came Josiah, waving him down. “Mind if we have a word, Judah?” The preacher had caught him off guard in the yard where the menfolk lined up to file into the house for the Lord’s Day gathe
ring.
“Jah, fine.” He followed the younger man out to the barn. It was important to demonstrate a willing spirit, even though he was already becoming weary of the questions. No matter how many were asked, none could bring Lettie back.
They walked to the sheep side of the barn and Preacher Josiah asked to see the newest set of twin lambs. A Scripture verse came to mind, one Judah had read so many times he’d committed it to memory without even trying. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength . . . they shall run, and not be weary.
Judah felt tense as the preacher made small talk about the weather for longer than necessary. Unlike the deacon, Josiah had never been one to leap into a particular topic but rather preferred to wander around to it. So, biding his time, Judah remained patient as they walked toward the pasture.
Judah noticed the last few horses were being unhitched, back in the driveway. Most of the membership had arrived, and he wondered if the preacher might be setting him up as an example. Hard to imagine that of Preacher Josiah, though.
He kept up with the preacher’s long stride, and finally Josiah got to the point. “Your wife’s been absent from Preaching off and on since March,” he began.
“Jah, twice.”
“For health reasons, would ya say?”
The hair on Judah’s arms prickled. “She never said.”
The morning sun cast a wan light over the grazing sheep. Kindly, the minister placed a hand on Judah’s shoulder. “I take it Lettie didn’t say she was leavin’?”
Judah shook his head.
Preacher Smucker looked down at his feet, shifted them, and removed his straw hat. “Well, I don’t mean to put you on the spot. You’ve heard the rumors ’bout Lettie and another man.” His voice was quiet. “Would you know of any reason for your wife to go away?”
Judah resisted the question. Up until now, he’d refused to consider the possibility. But what if the rumors were true?
He recalled how affectionate he had been with Lettie early on in their marriage, like any young couple. Those days of passion had produced four healthy children.
He glanced toward the house, bustling with activity as the crowd swelled. Drawing a long breath, he removed his hat, holding it in front of him. “I’ve been remiss as to my wife,” he confessed. “Not as attentive as I should be . . . confidentially speaking.”
A slow frown gathered on Preacher’s brow. “Husbands are not to deprive their wives, and vice versa—except, as the Scripture says, to ‘give yourselves to fasting and prayer.’ ”
Judah bristled. In his defense, he might have mentioned that raising sheep took every ounce of his energy—had for years. He was no longer a young buck. Sure, he could offer any number of legitimate excuses, but none would hold up in Josiah’s eyes.
Nor the Lord’s.
“I can assure you, Lettie’s not the sort to stray” was all he could manage to say.
“I see.” The preacher straightened. “If what you say is true, then surely she’ll return. And we’ll discuss this further at that time, if need be.”
Josiah extended his hand and Judah shook it.
Preacher raised his hat to his head and set it down on his thinning hair. “I won’t be speakin’ with the brethren on this,” he said, his gaze fixed on Judah.
Judah’s throat felt as dry as dust, his mouth too parched to speak. He nodded his appreciation, then watched the kindly minister hurry back toward the house.
Running his fingers over the edge of his hat, he felt the relief of having come clean, his transgression laid bare before the man of God.
Judah put on his hat and headed to the barn to check on his expectant ewes once more before the start of Preaching.
Grace saw her father walking back from the barn, his shoulders visibly slumped. She’d noticed Preacher Smucker strolling with him earlier, though the man had returned to the other ministerial brethren some minutes ago, ready to get church underway.
He’s heard about Mamma. She swallowed hard. Has everyone?
She saw Henry arriving with his family, and when he looked her way, he smiled faintly and gave a quick, discreet nod of the head. There was no way to tell from his cautious gestures if he was upset at the news swirling about Mamma’s disappearance, since Henry had always been prudent in his greeting at Preaching services. Even at Singings, he was subdued.
Will he want to marry into the Byler family now?
It would certainly make an upstanding young man think twice, she guessed. She had better dismiss the niggling thought, or her ability to pay close attention today would be out the window.
Glancing over her shoulder, Grace saw Henry line up to enter, his face hidden from view.
Heather spent Sunday morning sleeping in, vaguely aware of her dad’s arrival sometime after midnight. The garage door’s rumble had awakened her momentarily, but she’d fallen back into slumber.
She dreamed of a long weekend with her mother in Amish country, and in the dream Mom, completely well again, was pointing out some beautiful blossoming pink and yellow plants. There was the sound of water trickling, lending a peace to their surroundings. All was well . . . Heather and her mother were relaxed and happy, together once again.
When she awakened, Heather wondered if the dream was confirmation she was doing the right thing by returning to Pennsylvania to get well.
Later, at breakfast, which was late enough to be brunch, she sat with her dad, watching him eat his usual sugar-laden cereal, with a small dish of applesauce—cinnamon sprinkled on top. “The works,” he said, wearing navy sweats, his dark hair rumpled. He took a sip of his coffee and set it down next to his OJ. “Feels great to be home.”
“I was beginning to think you’d gone on a never-ending trip.” She leaned forward, blowing on her coffee. “Sounds like you succumbed to an impulse purchase.”
His sleepy eyes shone as he described the parcel of land, which the former owners had reluctantly carved from their larger acreage. “They were in need of emergency cash, and they sold as little as they could—only four acres. I guess back there, that’s really too small for a farmer to do much with.”
“So what are you going to do with it?” She ran her fingers through her hair, still damp from her shower. “Are you serious about a hobby farm?”
He smiled, radiating confidence. “I’m leaning more toward growing potatoes. You might be surprised at how much fun it could be. I think you’d like it, too.”
“I have a phobia about dirt under my fingernails and multilegged creatures that fly, don’t forget.”
“Well, I’m ready for the next chapter in my life. I’ve had it with the corporate fast track, for one, and besides . . .” Here, he paused for so long she wondered if he’d forgotten what was on his mind. “Your mother was crazy about that area. She told me countless times she wanted to retire there someday.”
She agreed. “Obsessed with the place, yeah . . .”
“I’ll start building a house in a while.” His face was alight with the possibility. “Will you help come up with a plan for a small, old-style farmhouse? The kind of house unique to the back roads?” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “Doesn’t make sense to build something contemporary in Amish country, does it?”
“Sure, I’ll help you design it.” Heather got up for more coffee. If she stayed sitting, she might easily cry. That would never do, not today. Nope, for the first time since Mom’s passing, Dad’s sights were set on the future, and no way would she interfere with that.
Grace appreciated all the help from the womenfolk during and after the common meal. Marian Riehl, along with Aunts Lavina and Mary Beth, acted as self-appointed shadows.
Opening the side door to the kitchen, Grace propped it wide with the doorstop. Several blossoming lilac bushes she and Mamma had planted years before gave the air a delightful sweetness.
She glanced down at the springhouse and saw Yonnie Bon-trager talking with Becky. It was a little odd to see them together in such seclusion, but who co
uld resist Yonnie’s contagious laughter and merry spirit?
Looking away to give them privacy, she noticed Henry out near the woodshed with several other young fellows. And surely plenty of gossip was spreading now that everyone had seen for themselves that Mamma was nowhere around.
There was much left to do to clean up after the big meal, what with a record attendance this Lord’s Day. Uncanny, really. The sadness—even disbelief—of nearly every woman present had been overwhelmingly apparent.
Returning to the kitchen to help wipe down the tabletops, each comprised of several benches, Grace was relieved to see Mammi Adah talking with Deacon Amos’s mother. She and Dawdi Jakob both seemed quieter than usual, sitting at the table with the eldest of the group, finishing up their slices of snitz. Becky, her mother, and many of their extended family had baked many pies for the occasion, and Grace went over to offer her thanks.
One of the kindest neighbors ever.
She finished drying off the tables, except where the older folk still lingered, and was just returning to the sink when Becky came up behind her, face beaming.
Becky tugged on her sleeve gently. “Come! I must talk to ya.” Her friend led her outside and down the driveway a bit, past the front porch and the mailbox. Grace would check it again tomorrow for word from Mamma.
“Ach, can ya keep a secret?” Becky’s big eyes twinkled her joy.
“Well, don’t you look awful pleased this Lord’s Day,” Grace said.
Becky gripped her hand, pulling her closer. “Yonnie’s close to decidin’ who he’ll court.”
“He told you this outright?” Grace thought it presumptuous.
Becky laughed and shook her head. “That’s just his way. Truth is, I have a feelin’ I just might be one of the girls he’s considerin’. Oh, Gracie—can it be?”
“Well, you know what I think already.”
“But not what Yonnie thinks.”
Grace laughed. “I say you’ll be surprised when he makes his choice. You wait and see if I’m not right.”
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