A Promise of Grace

by Lynette Sowell

  “You know I have an ulterior motive for calling you aboard the buggy.” Frances looked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling.

  “I didn’t suspect one.” Rochelle grinned and tossed another handful of candy to a trio of children in shorts and T-shirts. Her first time participating in the parade, and she didn’t know why she hadn’t before. She could have had someone throw candy from her van while she drove it in the parade line.

  “We’re to drop you off at Pinecraft Park. Silas is there with Matthew and Lena.”

  The horse’s neigh rang out yet again, and Frances darted a look at her husband. “Tobias, must you every five seconds?”

  “It’s for the children.”

  “And old men,” she said.

  “All right, I’ll do it every ten seconds, then.”

  Rochelle laughed at the older couple and tossed more candy at the children by the edge of the street.

  She caught sight of a familiar face. Emma, in the crowd, standing with a cluster of Old Order Amish. Rochelle didn’t recall her being at the family gathering, and wasn’t sure when she’d disappeared after brunch.

  Emma spoke intently with another young woman Rochelle didn’t know. Emma frowned, nodded.

  Rochelle looked away and focused on a group of young children, their faces aglow as they saw the candy in her hand.

  * * *

  Silas had never seen such a spectacle passing through Pinecraft’s streets, not since he was a small boy. He, Matthew, and Lena gathered along Fry Street, close to the entrance to Pinecraft Park. Lena sat comfortably at the edge of the street, while Matthew perched on his electric bicycle. Silas had his own chair beside Lena.

  One parade “float” featured a tractor pulling a small flatbed trailer, where a bluegrass band played and sang Christmas songs. Another man drove a “solar buggy,” a horseless buggy in the customary black, with solar panels attached flush to the buggy’s roof.

  “Dad, did you see the buggy?” Matthew’s voice held open admiration. “I should ask Uncle Tobias about it. I wonder how it works.”

  Silas wasn’t sure how solar-powered technology worked, either. “I have no idea myself, Son.”

  The gentleman waved at them as he passed.

  Another odd-looking vehicle passed, with a pair of large wheels that bore flashing green lights on the rims, almost as tall as Silas. The driver rode on a seat between the pair of wheels, as did his companion.

  The contraption paused, then the driver spun the vehicle in one direction, then another.

  “Would you look at that.” Matthew tugged on Silas’s arm.

  “Just think, you might have missed seeing it if you’d ridden with Uncle Tobias.”

  The procession continued, and children nearby scrambled for candy someone had thrown from another vehicle in the parade.

  Then came another participant, a local man known for his smoked meats and savory foods he sold throughout the village. A large smoker trailed behind his truck.

  Anyone and everyone, it seemed, who wanted to join the lineup on Christmas Day could.

  Silas realized this Christmas was so much better than last year’s.

  Last year they’d somehow made it through the blur of contemplation, services, hymns, and visits among the family.

  Their loved ones, it seemed, weren’t always sure of what to say or do, with it being the first Christmas without Belinda.

  This year, he’d thought of Christmases past, but this year he felt a glimmer of hope. God hadn’t forgotten them. He could still hope and pray for direction, clarity, healing.

  “There’s Uncle Tobias and Aunt Fran—and they have Rochelle with them!” Matthew pointed.

  The horn neighed at them, and a few other onlookers cheered.

  What made Silas want to cheer was the smile Rochelle gave him. He’d brought her gift, tucked into a box securely strapped to the basket Matthew had on his electric bicycle.

  The buggy paused, with Rochelle slipping from the back seat. “Thank you!” she called out to Uncle Tobias and Aunt Fran before they continued along their way.

  She met Silas at the side of the street. “I had a ride here. Isn’t the parade wonderful?” She sounded and looked not much older than Lena.

  “Yes, it is. I’d always heard about the parade. This is my first.”

  “The first of many more?”

  “I hope so.”

  She glanced toward the box in Matthew’s bicycle basket.

  Silas unstrapped it. “Yes, this is what I told you about.” He grinned at her. “Care to take a short walk?”

  “Oh, but I’ll miss seeing Santa Claus in the parade.” She pouted.

  It took but a second for him to realize she was joking. “Suit yourself.” He walked off in the direction of the pavilion.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  He heard footsteps behind him.

  “Never mind. You don’t want to miss Santa.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She caught up with him. “Anyway, I didn’t bring your gift with me.”

  “Huh.” He stopped at the far side of the pavilion. “So, I guess I’ll have to stop by later to pick it up.”

  “You . . . you can.” Rochelle kept her hands clasped lightly in front of her, but he could tell it took her self-control not to pluck the gift from his hands.

  “Merry Christmas, Rochelle.” He extended the box toward her. “I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  She set the box on a picnic table and gently lifted the upper half of the box, then peeled back the layers of tissue paper. Silas was glad he’d used tissue paper, at Aunt Fran’s suggestion.

  Rochelle sucked in a breath. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” She pulled the wall hanging out, unfolding it as she did so.

  “Ah, it’s handmade, of course. I’m not sure who did it. My aunt might know.”

  “The stitching. It’s so detailed. And the colors. So beautiful. I know exactly where I’ll hang this. Thank you, thank you.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Silas.” She took a step toward him, as if she wanted to hug him, but then stopped as if she thought better of the idea. “I . . . Come by later, you, and Lena and Matthew. The family will likely be at the house, or some of them might. I think there will be some games, too. And food, always plenty of food.”

  “I’d . . . we’d very much like to.” He let himself reach for her hand and squeezed it.

  28

  Rochelle thought much of the family would go their separate ways after the parade dispersed. She’d been a poor hostess, running off and jumping into the Frys’ horseless buggy and riding in the parade.

  The Frys found her at the park, then dropped her off at the house, where Jolene and most of the crew waited for her return.

  “There you are,” Jolene said when Rochelle walked into the house. “We’re playing games and I think Aenti Sarah is reheating some of the food.”

  Rochelle clutched the box containing the wall hanging and nodded. “Good. Silas and his kids are on their way. They’ll be here in an hour or so.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jolene said, eyeing the box.

  “See what he gave me?” Rochelle slipped the top from the box.

  “Lovely, absolutely lovely. And I’ve never seen this pattern before. And tiny, tiny stitches.”

  At the words pattern and stitches the rest of the female members of the Keim and Yoder clans gathered around to see the wall hanging—Nora, Betsy, Emma, along with Aenti Sarah.

  The women lapsed naturally into German, exclaiming over the unique combination of appliques.

  “Gut work, gut work,” Nora said, nodding.

  “I agree. I’m going to hang it on my bedroom wall.”

  “Sweet gift from a sweetheart.” Aenti Sarah touched the fabric.

  The women all giggled, and Rochelle’s face flamed.

  “So much better for you than someone like Daniel Troyer.” Emma’s voice stilled the giggles.


  “Yes. Much better.” Rochelle slid the tissue paper over the wall hanging. A faint pang of regret nipped at her heart. No, she hadn’t quite “fallen hard” for Daniel Troyer, a man who wasn’t all he seemed. Not as hard as she’d let herself fall for Silas.

  “I’ll put this in the bedroom, out of the way.” She smiled at them as she put the top back on the box.

  Once she emerged from the bedroom, she heard familiar voices in the kitchen. Silas, Lena, and Matthew.

  They all extended Christmas greetings to one another, and Betsy took out two whole pies, freshly made in her shop the day before.

  Steven approached Emma straightaway, and Emma seemed back to her chipper self unlike the brooding intensity Rochelle had seen during the parade.

  “So, where’s my gift?” Silas asked.

  “Aren’t you brash?” She hadn’t teased anyone like this in, well, it had been a long time. And she realized she’d missed it. “Don’t you want to visit and have dessert first?”

  “Ah, I guess I can.”

  “I’m joking.” One of the best parts of her and Silas had always been their laughter, the gentle banter kindling a burning glow inside her. “A minute, and I’ll be right back.”

  “All right. I’ll get a cup of coffee.”

  As Rochelle disappeared into her bedroom once again, she heard the doorbell ring.

  Thank You, Lord, for a beautiful Christmas, with loved ones near as we celebrate together.

  No one could purchase the simple joy and fervent peace of the day. Rochelle slid open the closet door and pulled Silas’s gift from the shelf.

  She headed back into the kitchen, where she discovered the Christmas crowd had swelled some more. Henry Hostetler, her distant cousin, along with a pair of men she didn’t recognize. One of the men carried a guitar case, the other a rectangular case.

  “Merry Christmas, Rochelle.”

  “Merry Christmas, Henry. So good to see you.”

  “We old widowers were out and about—me, Levi, and John. I told them Betsy Yoder’s pies live here.”

  “Only until they’re eaten.” Rochelle smiled. “Please, stay for coffee and pie.”

  “Thank you.” Henry glanced at the men. “Levi and John Bontrager, Rochelle Keim.”

  After introductions went all around, they discovered with the help of Imogene Brubaker the brothers were actually second cousins, once removed, to the Yoder family.

  Rochelle didn’t know how Imogene kept the branching family trees straight, but the woman could piece together family connections faster than Betsy could roll out a piecrust.

  “Levi and John, I see you have instruments with you,” Rochelle said. “Would you like to have a singing here? I don’t have a carport, but we could gather on the lanai, and Steven and Matthew can light the torches in the backyard before it gets dark.”

  “We’d be honored,” Levi said, nodding. Judging by the intonation of his voice, Rochelle guessed he was a baritone.

  While the brothers tuned up their instruments, Levi his guitar and John his banjo, the family members maneuvered chairs onto the lanai and a few in the backyard.

  Rochelle seized the moment to turn her attention back to Silas, who leaned against the counter as he sipped his coffee.

  “Sorry. I’ve had a crowd all day.” She still held his gift.

  “Yes, you have. And you’ve loved every moment of it.”

  “You’re right. This has been the best Christmas in . . . well, it’s been a long time.” And it wasn’t because her home was filled with family in nearly every corner. It was because of the second chance set before her with Silas.

  “You deserve it.” He eyed the box.

  “Okay, here you are.” She smiled, holding the box out to him. “Merry Christmas, Silas.”

  He tore off the vivid paper, grinning as he did so. “I know it’s not a plane. The box is too small.”

  Rochelle chuckled, then glanced toward the living room. The family had mostly piled onto the lanai. Someone said something, and a ripple of laughter came in response.

  She knew her gift was a bit unusual. Funny, too, she’d given him something he could hang on his wall, also unusual.

  Silas lifted the plaque from the box. He set the box on the counter. His eyes scanned the front of the plaque. His expression softened, his blink increasing.

  “Wow. It’s quite a poem. Different.”

  “I . . . I hope you like it.”

  “Ah, I do. Thank you. I’ll treasure it, always.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

  Rochelle knew it wasn’t a gift of Scripture, and likely a few might think it bordering on blasphemy, as if someone could be so presumptuous as to touch the face of God. But she hoped Silas understood.

  “I’m glad.”

  Silas glanced toward the group gathered on the lanai, then closed the distance between him and Rochelle, and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. She touched her flaming cheeks.

  “Do you want to go to the singing with me?”

  His funny request made her laugh. “Yes, I’ll get a cup of coffee first.”

  * * *

  Silas hummed all the way home after leaving Rochelle’s. This Christmas had been better than he imagined.

  Rochelle’s gift, simple and different from anything he’d ever received, sat in its box between the van’s front seats.

  He wanted to tell her how much it truly meant to him, but the words wouldn’t come, not in the way he wanted.

  She’d always supported his flying, even when some didn’t understand the compulsion and passion he felt for taking to the skies. Some called it foolhardy, others called it prideful. Even Belinda didn’t completely understand.

  Yet Rochelle always had, despite her former fear of flying.

  Lena heaved a sigh, the sound one Silas hadn’t heard from his daughter in months.

  “What is it?”

  She kept silent. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, going to the parade, then to Aunt Fran and Uncle Tobias’s for gifts, then over to Rochelle’s and the singing.”

  “We could have left early, if you’d wanted to.”

  “No, it’s all right.”

  “She’s jealous of Emma and Steven,” came Matthew’s voice from behind Silas.

  “I am not.” Lena’s voice held an edge.

  “Matthew.” Silas gave him a warning. Some things, even if they were obvious, didn’t need to be said.

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking, so stop.”

  They arrived seconds later at the house, the porch light glowing. Tomorrow, they’d set the house in order before going over to Tobias and Fran’s for a family day.

  Silas reminded himself this was vacationland for people, and with Matthew and Lena both on Christmas break, they had a rare opportunity to have a vacation themselves.

  He killed the engine after parking in the carport.

  “What’s that?” Matthew said, pointing to the side door of the house. The outer screen door was partly ajar, as if being propped open.

  “I have no idea.” Silas left the van, coming around to the other side to help Lena from the front seat.

  “Thanks, Dad. I can do it.”

  “I wanted to be sure.”

  Lena smiled, her glance sliding over to the side door.

  Someone had left a box, a wrapped present, between the doors.

  The tag simply read “Lena” and was otherwise unsigned.

  “Someone left you a gift,” Matthew said.

  “Mister Obvious.” Lena sighed, picking up the box, wincing as she bent to do so.

  “Lena, you don’t have to be rude to your brother.” Silas couldn’t help but talk to them as though they were much younger, Lena especially. What else could he do? Ignore her rudeness?

  Something was a bit off about Lena, but she smoothed over her expression. “I’m sorry, Matthew. Dad, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She gave a sob.

  Silas patted her on the shoulder. “You’re tired. When we get inside, you
go ahead and get right to bed. Don’t worry about setting an alarm clock. Sleep. Remember, the doctor said to sleep when you could.”

  He unlocked the door and they entered the chilly kitchen.

  Lena shivered. “I guess you’re right. I’m just tired.” She studied the box in her hands.

  “You going to open it?” Matthew craned his neck as if somehow he could see the contents of the box more easily, even though Lena hadn’t peeled away the wrapping paper.

  “Of course I am.” She ripped away the paper and opened the flat rectangular box. Inside lay something made of fabric in shades of blue, varied as the Gulf waters. “Oh . . . it’s beautiful. It’s a head scarf.”

  “Who’s it from? Is there a card or something in the box?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” Lena emptied the box. “No. Nothing.”

  “Huh. Interesting.” Silas didn’t know what to make of it. A friend, stopping by this evening, with a gift for Lena? Or someone from outside the village?

  “Maybe the neighbors saw someone come by today. I’ll have to ask,” Lena stated.

  “Good idea.”

  Lena and Matthew went to their rooms, Matthew yawning something about being tired already and Lena not saying anything more, but clutching her Christmas gift. Silas went to the thermostat and flipped the switch for the heat.

  What did someone say to a brooding, almost twenty-year-old young woman? Silas had tried, but this was one of those times he felt Belinda’s loss the most keenly. Over the years, it had always been the four of them along with their missions team overseas.

  As much as he’d felt more settled in Pinecraft than anywhere else over the past year, the sensation of the world being out of control bubbled to the surface again. Only while piloting did he feel the control.

  He had a moment of quiet prayer in the kitchen before the children returned.

  His foundation had been rocked to the core. No wonder Rochelle had such a wave of emotions and questions, losing her mother years ago and then witnessing John’s brutal attack. Their peaceful lives were upended, changed forever.

  They’d all fled, Belinda and he to Africa, Rochelle to Florida. Regardless of the circumstances and emotions driving a wedge between them years ago, now Silas wished he’d been more patient with Rochelle and less responsive to Belinda’s cries for help.