“My wife’s great-aunt has been watching Cindy while I’m at work, but it’s too much responsibility for a woman her age. Eventually I’ll need to find someone else to watch Cindy.”
Lenore almost offered to take care of Jesse’s daughter until school started, but she caught herself in time. She barely knew the man, and he might not appreciate her being so forward. Besides, with all the things she needed to do to help Grandma, there wasn’t time for much else. Surely someone else in their community would be available to watch Jesse’s baby.
After Jesse left the store with two sacks full of gluten-free items, plus a few other things, he thought about the young woman he’d met inside. She seemed friendly, and her eyes were filled with kindness. There was truly something about Lenore that reminded him of Esther. The compassion she felt for him had shown in her soothing tone and thoughtful expression. In some strange way Jesse felt drawn to Lenore—not romantically, but as more of a kindred spirit. It was too soon for him to be seeking—or even thinking about—a romantic relationship. Besides, he was sure no one could ever replace Esther or fill his heart with the kind of love he still felt for her.
Pushing his troubling thoughts aside, Jesse unhitched his horse, Restless, and climbed into his buggy. Eager to pick up his daughter, he guided Restless out of the parking lot and toward Gordonville, where Esther’s great-aunt and great-uncle lived.
When Jesse arrived a short time later, Vera opened the door, peering at him through her thick-lensed glasses. “Cindy is sleeping,” she whispered. “So unless you’re in a hurry to get home, why don’t we sit out on the porch until she wakes up?”
Jesse gestured to his buggy. “I do have some bulk food items to put away, but nothing perishable, so I can hang around for a while at least. No point waking my daughter and then listening to her fuss all the way to Strasburg.”
“Indeed.” Vera lifted the glasses from her face and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why don’t you stay for supper? Milton’s in the barn, checking on one of our pregnant cats, and Herschel will be coming by soon to eat with us.” She set her glasses back in place. “Now there’s plenty of scalloped potatoes in the oven, so there is no point in you going home and having to cook something for your evening meal when supper’s close to being ready.”
Jesse’s mouth watered at the thought of eating a nourishing, home-cooked meal. Since Cindy wasn’t old enough for grown-up food, Jesse often got by eating a sandwich made with gluten-free bread. It would be nice to sit down and enjoy some adult conversation as he ate his meal. “Danki, Vera, I gratefully accept your invitation. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not a thing.” She smiled and pointed a bony finger at the two wicker chairs sitting nearby. “Now let’s take a seat and visit while we wait for my menfolk to get here.”
Jesse did as she suggested, and while he listened to Vera talk about her garden and how it had become neglected since she’d volunteered to care for Cindy, a sense of guilt crept in. Esther’s great-aunt was in her late sixties—too old to be caring full-time for a baby. Her back was touchy, and she sometimes used a cane when she was in pain. In all good conscience, Jesse couldn’t keep bringing Cindy here every day while he went off to work to earn a living.
Jesse was about to speak to her about the situation when Vera’s husband, Milton, came out of the barn and joined them on the porch. “No kittens yet, but I’m thinking sometime tonight or by tomorrow morning.” He looked over at Jesse and smiled. “How’d things go at the furniture shop today?”
“Pretty well. We’re keeping busy, that’s for certain. Several English people came in today, saying they’d heard the furniture was made by Amish, and for that reason, they felt sure it was of the finest quality. One man even mentioned that he chose to buy Amish-made furniture because it was handcrafted and locally made.”
“Good to hear the business is doing well.” Milton turned his attention to Vera. “How soon till supper’s ready?”
“About twenty minutes. We won’t eat until Herschel gets here though.”
“Then I have time to take a shower?”
She gave a nod. “Oh, and please be quiet when you go inside. Cindy’s still sleeping.”
“No problem. I’ll be mauseschtill.” Milton opened the screen door and stepped into the house.
Vera looked at Jesse and rolled her eyes. “Can’t remember when my husband’s ever been quiet as a mouse.”
Jesse snickered. He could almost picture Milton tiptoeing around the house.
A few minutes later, a horse and buggy pulled into the yard and up to the hitching rail. Herschel got out, secured his horse, and headed for the house. “Sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t hold up supper, Mom.” He leaned over and gave her a hug.
“Not a problem. Your daed’s in taking a shower, so we weren’t gonna eat till he was ready anyhow.” Vera rose from her chair. “I’m going inside now to check on things, but you two can sit out here and visit till I call you for supper.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” Jesse asked.
She shook her head, then turned to Herschel again. “How come you didn’t put your gaul in the barn? Your daed will probably want to challenge you to a game of checkers after we eat, and I’ve made a strawberry pie for dessert, with a gluten-free crust for Jesse’s benefit. So if you’re planning to hang around for pie, you may be here a while.”
Herschel moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “That does sound good, but I won’t be staying for dessert or any board games. I need to take care of a few things at my place before it gets dark.”
Vera shrugged, then turned and went into the house.
Herschel took a seat beside Jesse. “How ya doin’?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess.” Jesse dropped his gaze to the wooden planks beneath his feet. “I’m adjusting to my new job, and the house you’re letting me rent is comfortable.” He tugged his ear. “But even though some things seem to be working out, I still miss your niece something awful.”
“That’s to be expected.” Herschel reached over and gave Jesse’s shoulder a squeeze. “It takes a long time to get over losing someone you care about. No one knows that better than me. I’ve had to do it twice, and the pain still lingers.”
Surprised by Herschel’s comment, Jesse tipped his head. He had no idea the man had been married twice. Of course, there was a lot about Herschel he didn’t know or understand. Vera and Milton’s oldest son had always been somewhat aloof and kept pretty much to himself. When Jesse first met his wife’s uncle, he thought Herschel might not care much for him. But Esther explained that her uncle had been withdrawn since his wife died. The poor fellow had no children—just his elderly parents and two brothers, as well as a few nieces and nephews—none of whom he appeared to be close to. From what Esther had said, her uncle had no close friends either.
Jesse pushed his shoulders back. I can’t let that happen to me. I’ll always be close to my precious little girl, and even if I don’t feel social, I will put forth the effort to make some friends while I’m living here in Lancaster County.
Lancaster
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we returned from your grandparents’ house yesterday.” Brad pointed to Sara’s plate. “And you’ve barely touched your supper. Is everything all right?”
Sara looked at Brad from across the kitchen table. “I can’t stop thinking about the notes my mother wrote in those prayer jars that Lenore, Michelle, and I found.” Her stomach tightened as she stared at her half-eaten tossed salad. “All this time I thought it may have been Grandma who wrote the notes and hid the jars. Never once did I suspect it was Mama. But now that I reflect on some of the things she wrote, I should have guessed it was her.” Sara turned her gaze on Brad. “How could I have been so blind?”
“Sometimes the most obvious things escape us. That was true for me before I felt God’s call on my life.”
She tipped her head. “Really?”
Brad nodded.
“Before it became clear to me that I should study to become a minister, I imagined myself learning to fly a plane and eventually becoming an airline pilot.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“A note I found in my grandfather’s Bible.” Brad paused and took a drink of water. “It said: ‘What is God calling you to do? If you don’t know, you need to pray about it.’” He grinned at Sara. “So I did.”
“And God revealed to you that He wanted you to go into the ministry?”
“Yes. It seemed like every scripture I read pointed me in that direction.”
Sara forked a cherry tomato and popped it in her mouth. “I can’t say for sure that it was God’s will for me to buy the flower shop, but the way things worked out, I can’t help but believe He approved of my decision.”
“I agree. And you’re doing an excellent job running it, while still finding time to help me in my ministry.” Brad’s face broke into a wide smile. “You’re an amazing woman, Sara, and I’m thankful God brought you into my life.”
She got up from the table and came around to give him a hug. “I love you so much. You’re everything I could ever want in a husband. Someday when we have children, I hope they’ll grow up to be just like their dad.”
Chapter 6
Strasburg
A bee buzzed overhead, and Michelle tried to ignore it as she pulled a handful of stubborn weeds. At least it wasn’t the irritating gnats that usually plagued her. If she didn’t bother the bee, it would probably leave her alone.
The home she and Ezekiel rented was small, and so was the yard, but at least she had found a place for her garden. After Michelle and Ezekiel got married, his parents had invited them to move in with them until they could afford to purchase a place of their own, but Ezekiel declined the offer. Michelle was relieved. She wouldn’t have felt comfortable living in the same house with Ezekiel’s mother, even though she and Belinda got along better now than they did when Michelle and Ezekiel first began courting. Also, they had more privacy in the rental than what they would have had with just a single bedroom to call their own at the Kings’ house.
As the sun beat down on Michelle’s head, a trickle of sweat ran down her face. It was normal for the end of June to be warm and humid, but the last week had been almost unbearable. On a day such as this, Michelle couldn’t help wishing they had air-conditioning in their home. The battery-operated fans Ezekiel had bought did nothing but blow warm air around wherever they were placed.
Despite her occasional longing for some of the modern conveniences she’d given up to become Amish, Michelle had no regrets about her decision to join the church and marry Ezekiel. He was a good husband, and she loved him very much. The only thing that would make her life more complete would be the addition of a baby. Michelle and Ezekiel had been married a year and a half, and she wondered why she had not become pregnant yet. The doctor assured Michelle that both she and Ezekiel were healthy and there was no reason she couldn’t conceive. He advised them not to worry about it and said stress might be the problem.
Michelle had dealt with her share of stress over the years, beginning with the dysfunctional home she’d grown up in. Bearing the brunt of her parents’ physical and emotional abuse during her early childhood had taken a toll on her, as well as on her younger brothers. Living with foster parents had also caused some stress, since she never really felt accepted by her foster family.
Gritting her teeth as she grasped another clump of weeds, Michelle reflected on the years she’d been out on her own, struggling to keep a job and pay the rent on whatever run-down apartment she had managed to stay in. A stream of boyfriends, some abusive like Jerry, had left her feeling as if she had no worth. At least that’s how it was until Michelle met Willis and Mary Ruth Lapp. Even after they’d found out about her deception—pretending to be Sara—they had treated her with love and kindness. It was almost as if she was actually one of their granddaughters.
Michelle loved Mary Ruth and Willis, and she wished only good things for them. Tears welled in her eyes, nearly blinding her vision. “Dear Lord,” she murmured, “please heal Willis’s body and help him recover from his stroke.”
Sara stood near the front of her flower shop, studying the display she’d recently set up in the front window. With the Fourth of July less than two weeks away, she’d used red, white, and blue as her color theme. The focal point was a child’s red wagon she’d found in a local antique store. Sara had put a bouquet of red, white, and blue carnations inside the wagon, which she would change out as needed. A few vases full of red-and-white roses surrounded the wagon, along with several small American flags tied together with red bows and scattered in strategic locations.
Sara knew the importance of creating an eye-catching window display, representative of the flowers and plants she sold, many of which she purchased from the Kings’ greenhouse. This display, she hoped, would draw potential customers into the shop. She had learned from the previous owners that it was a good idea to create window displays representative of the season. She’d also made sure to use good lighting in effective ways. When the Fourth of July holiday was over, Sara would change the decorations in the window to another creative summer scene.
In the short time Sara had owned the store, she had established a personal connection with her regular customers, always striving to be honest and sincere. And she tried to send a handwritten note or make a personal phone call to thank new customers for their orders.
As she headed to the counter where she waited on customers, the front door opened and Herschel Fisher walked in. It had been several months since he’d visited her shop, and Sara had begun to think she might never see him again.
“May I help you, Mr. Fisher?” she asked.
He gave a quick nod. “Came to buy a dozen red roses. And there’s no need to refer to me as Mr. Fisher. Just call me Herschel, okay?”
“All right.” Sara combed her fingers through the ends of her long hair. “Are they for your wife’s grave?”
He shuffled back a step or two. “H–how did you know about that? I don’t recall saying anything to you about my wife having died, much less that I’d been buying flowers to put on her grave.”
A wave of heat crept across Sara’s cheeks. “Actually your mother mentioned it to me. I’m sorry for your loss, Herschel.”
“My mother came in here?”
Sara nodded.
With whitened knuckles, Herschel reached up to rub the back of his neck. “What business did she have telling you such a personal thing?”
Sara felt like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she told Herschel that his mother had come into the store, demanding that she stop selling him flowers, it would not go over well. But she had to tell him something.
Leaning against the counter for support, she swallowed hard. “Your mom was concerned that you might get in trouble with the church leaders for placing flowers on your wife’s headstone.”
“I don’t do that anymore, so she has nothing to worry about.” He let go of his neck and pulled his fingers through the sides of his blond hair, steaked with gray. “And in fact, the flowers I want today are for my mother’s birthday, which is tomorrow.”
Sara smiled. “I’m sure she will appreciate the gift.”
“I hope so. She works hard, despite her aches and pains. For the past few weeks she’s been babysitting her great-niece while the baby’s daddy is at work.” Herschel grimaced, slowly shaking his head. “Personally, I think it’s too much for a seventy-year-old woman. At least that’s how old Mom will be as of tomorrow.”
“She must be energetic if she’s watching a little one.”
Herschel shook his head. “She’s not really up to the task, but you can’t tell her that. Whenever Mom sees a need, she jumps right in and tries to help.”
“You must take after her then.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember some time ago when you rescued me and my friend Michelle
after my car got stuck in a ditch?”
He tipped his head to one side and tugged his right ear. “Oh yeah … now I remember. I ended up with muddy feet, and my back hurt a bit, but I was glad that I came along when I did.”
“So were we. Your kindness and willingness to help out left an impression me. It was a reminder that there are good people in this world who put themselves out for others when there’s a need.”
He nodded. “I only did what I’d want someone to do for me if I had a problem out on the road.”
Sara motioned to the display cooler where several vases of flowers had been put earlier. “Shall we see about getting a bouquet of roses put together for your mother?”
“Yes, and since it’s a special birthday, let’s make it an even dozen.”
Sara hoped Herschel’s mother knew what a kind, considerate son she had. Not every man cared that much about his mother. No doubt he’d been a good husband too.
“You have a dandy crop of aebier this year, Grandma.” Lenore placed a handful of the strawberries she’d picked into a plastic container.
Grandma smiled and popped a berry into her mouth. “You are so right, and these aebier are appeditlich.”
“Jah. In fact, they are so delicious they won’t need much sugar for sweetening.”
“But don’t forget, your grandpa likes plenty of zucker, even on the sweetest of berries.”
Lenore couldn’t resist the temptation to roll her eyes. Too much sugar wasn’t good for a healthy person, let alone someone in Grandpa’s condition. But she kept silent, knowing Grandma had been giving in to Grandpa’s every little whim these days. Lenore thought her grandmother sometimes tried too hard to do things that would make him happy. Unfortunately, many of those things that went way beyond her duty as a wife had little or no impact on Grandpa. Instead of saying thank you, or even conjuring up the tiniest of smiles, he would often simply sit and stare. There was no question about it—the dear man was depressed.
The Healing Jar Page 4