An Amish Miracle

by Beth Wiseman

  “Slow him down,” Adam said calmly.

  Flapjack ignored her command and didn’t respond to her yanking on the reins. Rounding the corner, the buggy tipped. Her body slammed against Adam.

  He reached over her and took control of the reins. “Whoa.” His arm muscles tightened as he held the reins taut. Flapjack obeyed.

  “I guess he got away from me,” Rosa said once she caught her breath.

  “He’s a little cantankerous. I was premature letting another driver take him.”

  Flapjack pawed at the ground. He was lathered in sweat and foaming around the bit. He jerked his head up, but Adam kept him in check.

  “It isn’t good to end the lesson after a horse gets away,” Adam said. “If you want to get out, I’ll take him for a few more laps, then we can give him a break.”

  She climbed down from the bench and crawled between the fence railings to get out of the training area. “I’ll go make lunch.”

  Eating lunch together had become part of their daily routine. The long hours they spent together was stirring up feelings Rosa didn’t want to admit. Adam was a pillar of strength, a reservoir of support. But respect and admiration for someone wasn’t the same as love. She couldn’t allow her heart to be fooled.

  Adam Bontrager was a good man. He needed a wife and family.

  She kicked her boots off beside the door. Her house cleaning had suffered over the last few days of working with him. The women would be appalled at her floors. Even with Adam stomping his boots on the outdoor mat, it would take a hard bristle brush and scrubbing on hands and knees to clean all the dirt tracked in.

  Rosa had a fresh pot of coffee and sandwiches prepared by the time he tapped on the door.

  “It’s open.” She set the sandwich plates on the table as he entered the kitchen. He washed his hands while she set the table. Then he sat in the chair opposite hers. After spending this time with him, it was going to be difficult to go back to eating every meal alone.

  She caught a glimpse of Flapjack tied to the fence post. “You didn’t remove his tackle?”

  “Nee, he needs to get used to standing for long periods with it on.”

  That made sense. She’d often wondered how horses tolerated the long Sunday services and the extended mealtime afterward. “How do you think his training is going?”

  Adam shrugged. “He’s nett ready to go on the road yet.” He must have seen the disappointment in her expression because he quickly added, “We’ll know more by the end of the week.”

  She smiled but doubted it masked all her worry. There weren’t many days left. Less than two weeks didn’t seem like enough time to train a horse, let alone find a buyer.

  “Don’t worry,” he said.

  She traced the rim of the mug with her finger. “You know me too well.”

  “You spend too much time worrying about things you need to give to God. All of this is in God’s plan. His provisions will meet your need.”

  “I know.” She was thankful for his faith. Even Uriah had never stood so boldly. When the cows became ill with the bovine disease and it looked as though they would lose their dairy herd, Uriah had told her not to worry, but his voice shook and the wrinkles across his forehead indicated otherwise. Adam’s faith was stronger than anyone she knew, and it reassured her.

  “What else are you fretting over?” Adam took a bite of the sandwich.

  The answer leaped to her mind immediately: she was worried about falling in love with him. But to that, she couldn’t admit.

  He pressed on. “Ever since the neighbor stopped over the other day, you’ve been acting strange.”

  Rosa sighed. “I might as well tell you. He showed me his vet bill. It’s more than I paid for Blossom and her harness.”

  “It would have been cheaper to build a pen his dog wouldn’t escape from.”

  “It was foolish to take the gun off the rack. I should have chased the dog off with a broom.”

  Rosa knew her impulsive actions weren’t pleasing to God. The scripture she had read that morning played in her mind: Forgive those who trespass against you. God’s Word was clear. She prayed the neighbor would forgive her for shooting his dog.

  “What’s done is done. You can’t do anything about it now.”

  “He expects me to pay the expenses. He called me cruel.”

  Her neighbor wasn’t interested in a mere apology. He wanted payment. Payment that would deplete her savings, cement the loss of her farm, and force her to move to Ohio.

  “His dog was on your property.” Adam pushed his empty plate aside and moved his kaffi cup forward. “Should I wait for you to offer me a cookie or just help myself?”

  She retrieved the jar from the counter and handed it to him. “Since the chickens haven’t laid any more eggs, I haven’t been able to make another batch.”

  “I need to go to town later. I’ll pick up a dozen eggs for you.”

  “Nee. I can’t pay you.”

  He dug his hand down to the bottom of the jar and pulled out a broken cookie. “You just did.”

  She smiled. If her chickens started laying again, she planned to make him a double batch to take home.

  He stood. “Flapjack is waiting. Are you going to kumm back out?”

  “You don’t need mei help.”

  “But I enjoy your company.”

  Warmth spread over her face.

  “Pink is a gut shade for your cheeks,” he said. “It brightens your eyes.”

  She had warned herself not to pry, but she couldn’t keep from doing it. Adam had to have seen Mark Raber and Claire talking after the Sunday services last week. “Aren’t you a little concerned about nett spending enough time with Claire?”

  Adam strode to the kitchen entry and stopped. “Don’t lose sleep over me and Claire. She and Mark Raber are courting nau.”

  Adam untied Flapjack from the post as Rosa took her place on the rail. He wanted to take the gelding around the corral a few times before letting Rosa drive again. So far, the training had gone better than expected. He had pushed Flapjack harder than normal, but he had to. He couldn’t let Rosa lose her house without doing everything he could to help.

  It bothered him that she made him promise not to tell anyone in the community. She had spent her life helping others; if anyone deserved help from the widows’ fund, it was Rosa. But he couldn’t bring himself to breach her trust either.

  Adam clicked his tongue, encouraging Flapjack into a faster trot. If all went well, he would take the horse out on the road tomorrow and try some country roads to avoid heavy traffic. Maybe even show him to a few people he knew were looking to buy a buggy horse.

  An engine revved next door. Flapjack shied. It took a great deal of strength for Adam to regain control.

  In the distance he saw Wade working on his truck. How could he expect Rosa to pay the vet bill when his dog killed her chickens? Perhaps if he talked with the neighbor, he could convince him to let the matter drop.

  “Here you are,” Eunice said to Rosa. “I knocked on your door, but there was no answer.”

  Rosa jumped off the fence. “I was helping Adam.”

  “Mei son has an assistant nau, has he?”

  “I just watch usually.”

  “I wanted to return your dish.” She held up an empty dish in her hand, the one Rosa had used for the chicken casserole.

  “Danki.” Rosa motioned to the house. “I could use a cup of kaffi. How about you?”

  “Maybe a half a cup. I can’t stay long. I’m meeting some of the other widows in town at the fabric store. You know we like to get together.”

  Rosa smiled.

  “Did you want to join us? We could ride together.”

  “Nee—I couldn’t.” The answer sounded unnecessarily abrupt, so Rosa tried to temper her response. “I have some things already planned for this afternoon.” She had promised Hope she would babysit if Becky Byler wasn’t able.

  “Our group is very supportive,” Eunice said. She stepped into
the house, her eyes roaming the sitting room. “I don’t have to tell you how lonely—”

  The peeping chicks caught her attention. She spotted the crate across the room and lifted her brows.

  Rosa kicked off her boots. “Boppli chicks,” she said. “A gift from Adam. He built that brooder box too. They’ll soon be old enough to go outside.”

  Surely this wasn’t the first time she’d seen chicks in the house. It wasn’t as though they were running around loose. “Here, let me take that.” Rosa reached for the dish. When she saw the state of the kitchen, she cringed. She should have taken a few minutes to clean up after lunch.

  Rosa set the casserole dish on the counter, then hurried to clear the table. Bread crumbs on the counter, dirt on the floor, deplorable to someone like Eunice. Her house was always in order.

  “I wish you would reconsider going into town with me. It isn’t about picking out material as much as enjoying fellowship. And you must be lonely living here alone.”

  “I’m sure it’s a wunderbaar gathering.” Rosa placed the coffee-pot on the stove and willed it to boil. Truth be told, she despised participating in the widows’ gatherings. They were a loving group of women and had welcomed her after Uriah’s death, but Rosa couldn’t manage to feel comfortable among them. As it was, it had taken her two years just to get beyond cooking for two and not jumping out of her skin every time the century-old farmhouse creaked. Despite the widows’ certainty that she would adapt to living alone, she hadn’t.

  Besides, all of the other widows had children or grandchildren to help pass the long hours of silence. She had neither.

  “I just think if you had group activities, you wouldn’t depend so much on Adam,” his mother said.

  Rosa moved the pot to a hotter spot and avoided looking at Eunice.

  “I know he feels it’s his duty to look after you.” She sighed. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. Adam is a thoughtful sohn, and I’m very pleased he has such a giving heart. But I worry he is missing the opportunity to find a fraa. And I so want kinskinner.”

  Rosa had dreamed of having a houseful of children and grandchildren too. She pushed down the pain, plastered on a smile, and faced Eunice. “I understand completely.”

  “Ach dear, I wasn’t thinking.” Eunice covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You didn’t say anything wrong,” Rosa said. “Did I tell you mei chickens still haven’t laid any eggs? Please tell everyone I hope to be able to bring them some soon.” She shifted her attention back to the stove. More kindling would heat the pot faster. She opened the side compartment and peered in at the dying embers. “I’m afraid the fire is almost out.”

  Eunice glanced at the wall clock. “If you don’t mind,” she said, “could we have kaffi another time? I don’t want to be late to the frolic.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Rosa hoped the relief in her tone wasn’t too obvious.

  Once Eunice left, Rosa washed the dishes, scrubbed the counters, and mopped the floor. She added oil to every lamp in the house, rearranged the canned goods in the pantry, and still she couldn’t erase the conversation with Adam’s mother.

  She was filling the chicks’ pan with fresh water when someone knocked on her door.

  “Did you walk off the job?” Adam stomped the dirt from his boots on the mat before entering the house. “I waited for you.”

  She wiped her hands on her apron. “I needed to clean the house.”

  “I’m done for the day. Would you like to go to town with me?”

  “I can’t.” She disappeared into the kitchen long enough to grab the watering pan.

  Adam went over to the box and lifted the wire lid. “What did mei mamm want?”

  Rosa eased the pan inside. “She invited me to the widows’ gathering.”

  “So you’re going?” He smiled.

  “Nee.”

  His smile faded. “Are you upset about something?”

  “Do you think the neighbor revved his engine purposely to spook Flapjack?” That wasn’t the only thing upsetting her, but it was the only thing she was willing to share with him.

  “Don’t let him upset you. Anger’s a sin.”

  “I thought you were going into town.” She walked to the door, knowing he would follow. “I think we might be spending too much time together.”

  He closed the distance between them. “I don’t.”

  “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Adam, I don’t want mei problems to interfere with your life.”

  He opened the door. “Get some sleep tonight, and don’t fret over the neighbor.”

  Don’t fret over the neighbor.

  There was only one way she was going to stop fretting over the neighbor: she had to make amends with Tate.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rosa counted out the money down to the last penny for the vet charges. After wrestling all night with what she felt God was directing her to do, she had to obey. She closed the lid on the canning jar filled with coins. God, I don’t know where the money will kumm from for the taxes, but I can’t live with the animosity either. She slipped on her cape and headed across the yard. If there’s another way, stop me, please.

  Tate answered the door after the second knock.

  Before he said anything, she pressed the coin jar against his chest.

  “It’s all there,” she said. “I’m sorry your dog was injured.”

  “Thank you. Do you want the jar back?”

  “No. That’s yours to keep.”

  He stared at her. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Without a word, she pivoted on her heel and fled.

  A gust of wind and a sudden pelting of hail sent a chill through her bones. She cut through the garden. The moment she stepped inside the house, a blast of heat from the woodstove hit her. She kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

  As the kettle heated, she looked out the window. Hail pinged against the brown lawn. Freezing rain mixed with snow would come next. Through the window she caught a glimpse of Adam as he traipsed from his property over to hers. He must have seen her, because he waved on his way to the barn.

  Shouldn’t she feel better? She had done the right thing, so why wasn’t there some sort of relief?

  Well, whether she felt better or not, it was over. No matter what happened now, she wouldn’t be able to pay the taxes. One way or the other, she was going to lose the farm.

  She opened the drawer and pulled out the letter she had started to Aenti Lilly. Everything she had saved was gone. It was time to make other plans.

  She jotted a couple of sentences about the change in weather, then put the pen down. Her mind reeled in all directions. Traveling by bus would limit how much stuff she could bring. She would have to sell most of her belongings and ship the rest to Ohio.

  Rosa left the kitchen and roamed through the house, trying to inventory what would have to be left behind. Parting with the rocking chair her father had made would be difficult. The bed Uriah had crafted so lovingly by hand wouldn’t ship either.

  She wandered back downstairs. The dishes held no sentimental value; she would find someone in need of them. The table for ten only mocked her with lost dreams. She ran her hand along the fine wood grain. She had wanted a large, noisy, happy family. What God had given her instead was grief and solitude.

  Rosa started pulling jars off the shelves. Living alone, she hadn’t eaten much in the past two years, yet she’d put in an oversized garden and canned as if she had a huge family to feed. Even if by some miracle she didn’t lose the house, she wouldn’t eat this much food in twenty years. Someone else could use it.

  She had a good portion of the pantry unloaded before Adam tapped on the door and entered.

  “It’s too dangerous to work the horse today,” he said. “I’m sorry. I tried, but Flapjack kept slipping.”

  That didn’t surprise her. Judging by the amou
nt of mud on his boots, the rain had softened the ground. “You look kalt.”

  “I could use a cup of kaffi.” He took one step in, then looked down at his boots.

  “Don’t worry; mopping gives me something to do.” She shrugged. “I mopped at three this morning when I couldn’t sleep. The floors weren’t even dirty.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. “Rosa, you can’t keep losing sleep.”

  “I couldn’t get the dog out of mei mind,” she said. “I really feel terrible about how quickly I lost mei temper.” Her lips quivered. “I don’t know what happened to me. I’m nett a violent person.”

  “I know you’re nett.”

  “The neighbor doesn’t. Do you know what he said to me? He said he had always heard that the Amish were nonviolent. Until he met me.” She shook her head. “What kind of a life have I portrayed? Nett one that resembles Jesus.”

  “You don’t need the neighbor’s approval.”

  “It’s God’s approval I want.” Her vision blurred. None of her actions lately exemplified Christ. Worry, fear, and anxiety ruled over her.

  “Jesus said, ‘In Me you have peace.’ He tells us plainly to expect tribulation.”

  She nodded. “I know. Jesus overcame the world.”

  “And you will overcome this.” He reached out and took her hand. His fingers were frigid. “Things will work out if we put our trust in God.”

  Adam’s soft voice had a way of touching her soul with reassurance. She didn’t want to spoil his hope by telling him the vet charges emptied her savings. The kettle hissed. Rosa removed two mugs from the cabinet.

  He glanced at the table. “Were you unloading your cupboards in the middle of the nacht too?”

  “I made that mess a few minutes ago.” She filled the mugs with kaffi. “Do you think the weather will clear so we can work with Flapjack later this afternoon?”

  “I suppose it’s possible.” He moved in front of the window and stared outside. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.