Arms of Mercy

by Ruth Reid

  He cleared his throat. “I believe in angels.”

  “Are you just saying that?”

  “I haven’t seen one, but I know that in Psalms the angel of the Lord is encamped around those who fear Him, and He delivers them. What got you thinking about angels?”

  His interest prodded Catherine to share her story. She wanted to tell someone about what had happened on her walk home from the church meeting, but could she trust Elijah? She hadn’t even told Zach. If word got back to her family about this, after they were already disappointed in her judgment after her proposal to Zach . . .

  “Why are you asking about angels?” Elijah’s soft tone was comforting.

  “On mei way home from church the other day, I slipped on the ice and hit the back of mei head hard enough to black out. I’m nett sure how long I was unconscious, but when I finally opened mei eyes, I had a horrible headache . . . and a man was hovering over me, asking me if I was okay.”

  “Did you recognize him?”

  She shook her head. “He wasn’t Amish.”

  Elijah’s eyes widened. “You must have been scared.”

  “I was at first.” She drew a breath. “I don’t know if he was an angel or if mei mind was playing tricks on me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I was talking to him one minute about a sparrow he had pointed out, and the next minute he was gone. The man vanished.” She studied Elijah carefully, scrutinizing every blink of his eyes, every twitch of his lips. “I also smelled lilacs.”

  “Like you did at the truck stop?”

  She nodded. “Like I still do nau. The aroma is strong, and it’s nett someone’s perfume. I suppose you can’t smell it, can you?”

  “Nay, but mei nose is nett the most sensitive when it comes to flowery scents.”

  “Maybe it’s all in mei head.”

  He cracked a smile, then sobered when he picked up on her underlying fear. “You did say you had blacked out. Are you still having headaches?”

  “Jah,” she said reluctantly. “Please don’t tell anyone.” The last thing she wanted was for her cousin to think she needed mothering. Dawn was the one who needed Catherine’s help.

  “I won’t.”

  “Danki.” Enough about her problems. “Why did you change your ticket to Florida?”

  He smiled. “Who said I changed the ticket?”

  “On the day we ran into each other in the bus terminal, were you there to purchase a ticket, or had you followed me?”

  “Nope. I did nett follow you.”

  She studied him hard. “Ah, when I dropped mei ticket and you picked it up, you asked who was going to Florida.”

  His gaze dropped to her hands for a moment, then locked on hers. “I noticed Sarasota on the ticket, but I wasn’t able to catch the name or the date before you snatched it out of mei hand. That’s one reason why I wanted to know if you’d be in town for Mammi’s birthday party. I wanted to know what day you were leaving.”

  “And the other reason?”

  He grinned. “I was hoping to see you at the party—and I was disappointed when you didn’t show up.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks. Elijah’s outspoken boldness could always cause her to blush. She had tiptoed around her real question—why did he follow her to Florida?

  Catherine plunged ahead with her questioning. “Was it difficult to change your plans at the last minute—assuming you were headed somewhere else besides Florida when I first ran into you at the bus terminal?”

  “It wasn’t difficult because I hadn’t decided where I was going yet.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I had been praying for God to lead me in the direction He wanted me to go. I asked Him to make it obvious—and then I bumped into you.”

  He’d prayed for things to be made obvious? The same prayer I’d prayed. Her throat dried. Catherine opened the bottle of water she’d purchased at the stop, took a drink, then recapped it. “So you think going to Florida, nett knowing for sure if your cousin still lives there, is following God’s obvious direction?”

  “Do you nett believe in God’s guidance or praying for direction?” Elijah hadn’t realized how harsh he’d sounded until Catherine’s shoulders sagged and she lowered her head. He softened his voice. “I’ve prayed for direction, and God’s been faithful to provide it.”

  “You’re a blessed man.” She smiled.

  “I like to think—” He stopped, noticing the corners of her mouth quiver. She’d forced the smile.” What’s going on, Catherine? Are you angry at God?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to be angry at God . . . or anyone. It’s just . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to begrudge anyone who is following God’s leading. Even though—”

  He couldn’t let something this serious go. “Even though what?”

  She lowered her head. “Even though it hurts to know that God directed you where you should go—who you should marry.”

  Lord, I ask that You please prepare Catherine’s heart. I want her to understand why I married Edwina and why it took me so long to return home after she passed away. I believe it wasn’t by accident that Catherine and I bumped into each other at the bus depot, but I don’t know that she feels the same way. Lord, I ask that You make it obvious to her, or take the blinders from mei eyes and show me that I’m wrong. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Catherine.”

  “I’m sorry I brought it up. After all”—she closed her eyes— “we called a truce.” She wiggled in her seat. “Wake me up when the bus stops again.”

  Elijah studied her heart-shaped face, prominent cheekbones, and slightly up-tipped nose. Except for the line between her brows, her creamy skin hadn’t aged in six years. She hadn’t lost her youthful glow despite the bitterness that had turned her heart to stone. He wouldn’t recapture her friendship, let alone her love, if he didn’t explain his past actions. But would her heart be receptive? Would she listen, or would she shut him out of her life forever?

  He wasn’t tired, but Elijah closed his eyes. His mind replayed the first encounter he had with Catherine alone. His family hadn’t lived in Posen long, and their first winter was proving to be much like what he’d been used to in the Upper Peninsula. Given permission by the Glicks to cut ice from their pond, he was tasked with filling the icehaus.

  Arriving at the pond, he spotted an Amish woman skating gracefully over the very slab of ice he was there to cut and haul away. He crossed the shoveled section of the ice, the soles of his boots sliding over the smooth surface. The long-legged beauty appeared lost in thought as she went into a graceful spin. Studying the way her honey-colored hair glimmered in the afternoon sunshine rendered him speechless. He’d never seen someone skate so well.

  Her arms suddenly flailed, and her feet slid out from under her.

  As the woman lay sprawled on the ice, Elijah rushed toward her. Only he struggled to gain traction. He fell face-first, sliding across the smooth surface on his belly, and stopped within inches of her. Before he could scramble to his feet, the woman stood and extended her hand to him.

  “I was supposed to help you up.” He pushed off the ice a little too fast and had to teeter for balance at the expense of listening to her chuckle.

  “It’s easier on skates.” Hands clasped behind her back, she circled around him.

  “Sure it is.” He made his way over to the edge of the rink and stood on a patch of snow. “You’ll want to get off the ice before I start cutting.”

  She skated toward him full steam, then stopped abruptly just shy of the snowbank, shaving the ice in the process. “Can’t you take the ice from the other side of the pond?”

  “It’s too dangerous for the horses.” He hiked up the small incline and stopped at the flatbed wagon parked under a large oak. He was setting up the tools when she came tromping up the hill, deep lines forged between her eyebrows.

  “This pond is on our land,” she hissed.


  “Sorry, but our icehaus is low on ice.” He whistled to himself as he grabbed the hand drill and pick, then stopped long enough to assess the twentysomething woman with sparkling blue eyes before him. She was a sight to behold, standing tall in her skates with her fisted hands planted on her hips. Taken by her rosy cheeks and the way her foggy breaths hovered around her bow-shaped mouth, he forgot how much he disliked moving to Posen.

  She skated away quickly, gaining more speed as she looped around the rink. Scraping the ice, marking her territory with every lap.

  “Okay,” he called. “You leave me no choice but to let your daed deal with you.”

  She raced toward him and came to an abrupt stop. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her words came out with a wheeze.

  He eyed the graceful beauty before him and for a split second regretted having to ruin her fun. She was a good skater and obviously came here a lot.

  “Mei daed wouldn’t have given you or anyone permission. He’s passed on.”

  “It was mei daed who made the arrangements with, I assumed, your daed. George Glick offered us the ice for our icehaus. I’m sorry about your daed.”

  “He’s been gone over ten years,” she said softly. “Heart attack.”

  She skated away, but not before he noticed her eyes dim. He hadn’t meant to stir up painful reminders of her father, but the way her blades were scraping the ice with increasing speed, she was working something off. Her labored breathing reminded him of Edwina. Only his longtime best friend from back home sounded that way without exertion.

  “Did mei bruder really give you permission to cut on this side of the pond?”

  “According to mei daed, George said to take all we need. Have you had your breathing problem looked at by a doktah?”

  She scrunched her nose and cocked her head as though puzzled.

  “Every time you take a deep breath, you hiss.” Mimicking the noise, he watched her confused expression morph into a narrow-eyed glare.

  “I don’t have breathing problems.”

  “Whatever you say, Cat.” He playfully exaggerated a hiss and this time made a clawing motion with his hand.

  “Very funny.”

  He recalled how it had taken most of the afternoon to cut a few slabs of ice. In the end Cat stopped sulking and helped him attach the chains to the plow team. They were good friends after that. On the following church Sunday, he had asked to drive her home after the youth singing, and from that evening on, he was no longer homesick for Badger Creek.

  The constant hum of the bus engine had lulled Elijah to sleep. Sometime later, the bus made its next stop. He didn’t have to nudge Catherine’s arm; she was already awake.

  “Your stomach’s been growling the last hour. I’m surprised it didn’t wake you.” She reached for the bag on the floor, opened it, then smiled at the contents inside. “I packed extra sandwiches. Would you like one?”

  He returned her smile. “I never turn down food.”

  Once the other passengers had disembarked, they made their way off the bus. Elijah pointed to a picnic table next to the building where they could sit and eat.

  Footsteps had beaten down a pathway to the picnic area, but once they reached the table, he discovered melted snow puddled on the benches and opted not to sit down. “You won’t find melting snow up north this time of the year.”

  “That’s for certain. Zach’s horse had a difficult time making it through some of the drifts on our sleigh ride.” Her sweet gaze swept the area. “Northern Michigan is much more picturesque with its snow-covered forests.”

  She probably had no idea the spark of jealousy she ignited by mentioning Zach. He would do his best to avoid that subject.

  Catherine placed her tote bag on the table long enough to remove two foil-wrapped sandwiches. She handed him one.

  “Danki.” He unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. The location might not be ideal in her eyes, but he wasn’t about to complain.

  “Seems like we’ve been on the bus all day, yet it’s only been a few hours,” Catherine said.

  “Jah, we’re nett even out of Michigan yet.” Although he wouldn’t mind if it took a few extra days—even a week to get to Florida. He enjoyed her company—getting to know her again after being apart for so long. He wolfed down the sandwich in a few bites. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “Would you like another sandwich? Or cookies?”

  “Cookies sound gut.”

  Catherine dug her hand into the tote and came out with a tin of cookies. “They’re nothing fancy.” She offered him the tin. “Julie and I made a batch of peanut butter cookies, and Gwen and Leah made the chocolate chip and sugar cookies.”

  He chose peanut butter. “I take it Julie is George and Gwen’s daughter. How many kinner do they have nau?”

  She opened her mouth to take a bite of her sandwich but stopped short. “They have three. Leah, Jimmy, and Julie, who just turned five.”

  Catherine’s eyes dulled. Either she was already missing her family or his asking about the number of children George and Gwen had reminded her of how long Elijah had been gone. He wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. “When you write home, please tell little Julie how much I liked her cookies.” He tapped his stomach. “Tell her they hit the spot.”

  “Jah, she’ll be happy to hear that news.” Her voice cracked.

  “You miss her already, don’t you?”

  Catherine nodded. “She and I have a special bond. Upstairs, her bedroom is next to mine. When she’s unable to sleep, which lately has been most nachts, Julie kumms into mei room and sleeps with me.”

  “And you’re worried how she’s going to get along without you.”

  “It’s foolish, I know. I’m nett her mamm, but we are very close.”

  Hearing the longing in her voice, he wanted to reach out and take her into his arms.

  Catherine’s attention drifted toward the parking lot, but she didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. “I hope I made the right decision,” she muttered.

  Her doleful mood suggested something deeper. Perhaps she was sad she wasn’t a mother. Or was she having second thoughts of leaving Zach behind? The cookie dried in his mouth, and he had to swallow hard to force it down his throat.

  “Why are you really going to Florida, Cat?”

  “To help mei cousin in her bakery. Why?” She nibbled on a cookie.

  “Your decision to leave seems . . . like it’s on the cusp of a failed relationship. Are you sure you’re nett running away?”

  She studied the cookie a moment, then slowly wrapped the uneaten portion in a handkerchief and returned it to the tote. When she caught him watching her, she said, “Twenty-nine is a little old to be running away from home.”

  “I’m wondering why you’re worried you might have made the wrong choice.” About leaving Zach?

  “I was feeling a bit melancholy about being away from home the first time, but I’m fine nau.” She placed the uneaten portion of her sandwich on the foil, wrapped it up, then slipped it back into the bag. “And I don’t want to talk about Zach and mei.”

  He handed her the cookie tin for her to put in the bag. “Would you like to take a short walk before we have to get back on the bus?”

  “Okay.”

  Elijah took the quilted bag and slung it over his shoulder. His face might have heated if he were carrying the girly bag back in the district, but here he didn’t care what people thought. He jostled the weight to his other shoulder. “How many sandwiches do you have in here?”

  “A few. I also packed a few books, my knitting supplies, and stationery for letter writing, to name a few things. I wanted to make sure I had stuff to keep me busy on the trip.”

  He decided not to ask who she had planned to write letters to, but the question hung on the tip of his tongue. They walked around the perimeter of the parking lot in silence, the winter breeze numbing his fingers. He fisted his hands and blew warm air into them.
“I didn’t figure I would need gloves in Florida, so I didn’t pack them.”

  “We’re nett in Florida yet, silly,” she teased. “I’d offer to knit you a pair of mittens, but I think we will reach warmer wedder before I get them done. Dawn wrote in one of her letters that it’ll be in the seventies or eighties on most days. Have you ever been to Florida?”

  He shook his head.

  “They don’t have horses and buggies.” She giggled.

  “Oh.” He almost commented that her laughter was music to his ears, but thought better of it. He didn’t want anything to squash them getting along.

  “They use bicycles to get around.”

  “That’ll be something new.” Hopefully his cousin still lived in Sarasota and had room for company. Elijah wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor if it meant staying longer in Florida and not having to say goodbye to Catherine.

  “Looks like people are already lining up to board,” Catherine said. “Do you think we have time to use the restroom before we leave?”

  “Jah, but we’d better hurry. Otherwise the bus might leave without us.”

  Chapter 12

  Catherine stared out the bus window at the passing scenery. Large city buildings cluttered the landscape for as far as she could see. “I feel sorry for the people who live in the city,” she told Elijah.

  “Why is that?”

  “They don’t ever get to watch the sun set across a field of barley or corn.”

  “Most of those office buildings overlook other offices. I suppose they catch a golden glow reflecting on the metal, but that’s about it.” He leaned slightly her way and set his gaze on something out the window. “It’s interesting how different our lives are from city folks’ lives.”

  “I’m sure some of them think our way of life is boring. Do you remember mei cousin Olivia Pinkham?”