“The new stable’s comin’ along nicely,” she said, looking for her father, who must have gone back into the mill for something. “But I’m sure Dat needs to return soon.”
In a moment, her father poked his head out the door. “I need to talk to the boss for a while, Maggie,” he said. “Say, Jimmy, would ya mind runnin’ Maggie home?”
Her stomach did a flip-flop.
“Glad to,” Jimmy replied. “Maggie?” He turned to offer her his arm.
What on earth? Her heart pounded as she went with him to the wagon.
“Here, I’ll help ya in.” He boosted her up like she weighed no more than a feather.
Fortunately, Maggie found her voice quickly enough to say a quiet Denki before he went to the other side to get into the wagon.
Jimmy didn’t ask how she was feeling; she figured it was apparent. Besides, he saw her every other Sunday during baptismal classes. And of course he was the one who had so thoughtfully mentioned the special supplements to her.
Suddenly eager to tell him about her father’s recent purchase, she said, “I started takin’ those pills ya told me about.”
Jimmy gave her one of his good-natured smiles. “Did ya?”
“They were a surprise from my father.”
“Well, I sure hope they help, Maggie.”
“Denki. I’ll gladly accept hope . . . and prayer,” she said, conscious of the light in his eyes when he looked her way. Blushing at the memory of his strong hands around her small waist as he’d boosted her into the wagon, Maggie wondered if he might be able to guess what she was thinking right now.
Quickly, she looked over toward the horse paddock on the side of the road nearest her and noticed a section of broken fence, which she pointed out to him.
“I noticed that mess on my way to the mill,” Jimmy said. “Do ya know when it happened?”
“There was a windstorm a couple weeks ago.”
“Wonder why I didn’t see it till just today,” he said.
It was such trivial talk, she felt nearly dishonest; there was so much more she wished they might share.
Just then, she glanced down and saw a New Testament on the seat near Jimmy’s side of the wagon. She almost reached to pick it up.
Jimmy seemed to notice. “I take it with me on errands,” he told her. “There’s a lot in the Good Book we don’t hear much about,” he said, a bounce in his voice now. “I like to read passages when I’ve got a chance.”
“I’ve been readin’ from the Gospels quite a lot,” Maggie said.
“Our Lord’s compassion reached out to the sick everywhere He went,” Jimmy said quietly.
In that moment, she felt a kinship with him, knowing that Jimmy, too, had read the same chapters she’d become so attached to.
“I’ve been learnin’ new things,” she admitted.
He looked her way with tender eyes. “I’ll keep you in my prayers, Maggie. All right?”
She suddenly felt wistful and wondered why he hadn’t spoken of Deborah, then worried she was overstepping her bounds.
“I appreciate it,” she said. More than you know.
“It’s the least I can do.” He smiled.
When they turned into her lane, Jimmy halted his horse adjacent to the side door, and Maggie thanked him for bringing her home. “It sure was a quick ride,” she said, wishing to say more.
“Just glad I showed up at the mill when I did,” he said as he stepped down and went around to offer his hand this time.
She accepted, putting much of her weight into it, but using her cane, as well. The combination of the two set her aright.
Jimmy smiled, but something about the way he looked at her seemed to relay more, though she couldn’t decipher just what.
After he left in the wagon, Maggie remained on the back porch, catching her breath not only from the effort it took to get up the steps, but from the happiness of seeing Jimmy again. So unexpected, she thought, still savoring every moment, every gesture.
She placed a hand on her face. “Ach, I must go in without flushed cheeks,” she whispered, wondering if this was how she might feel after riding with wonderful Jimmy Beiler some evening in the future.
Silly me, she thought just as swiftly.
23
If asked, Rachel would gladly have owned up to her eagerness for the new pills to make a difference in Maggie’s quality of life. Perhaps better health would even make it possible for Rachel to have a closer relationship with her husband’s eldest.
Prior to Joseph’s purchase, Maggie had been getting worse, or so Rachel thought. Joseph, however, insisted that hot and humid summers had always been the hardest for his daughter since she had come down with the dreaded illness.
“But it’s not just the limpin’ and the strain on her face,” Rachel told her husband when they were alone in their room that evening. “She’s also become preoccupied with the Good Book. Every time I turn around, she’s sitting in her room reading.”
Joseph jerked his head up from where he sat waiting for her in their bed. “Ain’t nothin’ better, jah?”
Brushing her hair more vigorously, Rachel agreed. But she was hesitant to bring up that she had also noticed a page of writing on the floor outside Maggie’s room. The paper must have slid out from under her bedroom door.
“Dear?” Joseph said absently when she’d gone silent. “What is it?”
Rachel stopped brushing and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Something I should know?”
She felt torn down the middle. If she told Joseph, she would betray Maggie’s new zeal. If she kept mum, she’d neglect her duty to be honest with her husband. Which was it to be?
“Rachel?” Joseph wasn’t an impatient man, but there was an urgency in his tone.
“It’s just that she’s writing down verses—the same ones—over and over.” Rachel set her hairbrush on the dresser and moved across the room to sit at the foot of the bed.
“She might be tryin’ to memorize them.” Joseph’s voice sounded thoughtful. “How long has she been doin’ this?”
Rachel told of finding the paper on the floor just after Maggie had gone to the tent meeting the last time.
“Do you recall which verses?”
“Where Jesus heals the sick,” she said.
Joseph nodded. “It wonders me if she hopes to be healed like that.”
“By a miracle?”
“Something she might’ve picked up at the meetings,” he said.
Rachel couldn’t discern what reasons Maggie might have for writing the verses, but she knew she certainly wanted to be healthy and whole, like her brothers and sisters. Nellie has said as much.
“Did I ever share with you that I attended revival services at a Mennonite meetinghouse?” she asked softly.
Joseph’s eyebrows rose. “When was this?”
“Oh, I was younger than Maggie and seeking answers. But mostly I needed consolation.” She didn’t care to delve into all of that just now. “I really don’t think ya have to worry that outside teaching will prevent Maggie from going ahead with baptism. I doubt anything she’d hear at such meetings would jeopardize her commitment to the Amish church.”
He smiled and reached for his Bible from the bedside table. “It hasn’t affected your commitment, to be sure. Guess that’s all I need to know.”
Rachel was touched by this image of Joseph there, in his nightclothes, holding the Good Book.
Joseph patted his side of the bed. “Come sit with me . . . let’s have a look-see at the things Maggie’s been reading about healing.”
She smiled when she realized that Joseph didn’t seem too interested in hearing about her brief venture outside of Amish circles. And that was fine with her. What had happened in the past stayed there. She was where she was supposed to be, next to her husband, whom the Lord had clearly led her to meet.
And as Joseph read aloud to her, she couldn’t help thinking that Maggie’s passion for Scripture might just help all of
them.
A week later, Rachel’s sister Sarah came for a surprise visit. Rachel was delighted to see her arrive in a passenger van early that Tuesday afternoon. It had been one of those rare mid-July days when she had no need to keep a timetable. Caught up with her canning and cleaning for the week, Rachel had been sweeping the front porch, shooing away mosquitos while the girls were next door helping Nellie. Truth be known, Rachel was also trying to push away the homesick feelings that continued to creep up on her from time to time. Sometimes she felt as though she still had a long way to go before she fit in here, a feeling she had been trying to dismiss.
This is my role, she told herself. And I’m grateful for it. My love for Joseph is enough to carry me through anything.
“Willkumm, Schweschder!” she called now to Sarah, leaning the broom against the house and running out to meet the sister who’d helped Ruth Zook play matchmaker.
“I took the chance you’d be home,” Sarah said, looking mighty red in the face from her ride. “I had a couple errands not far from here—delivered some custom orders to Englischers, one for an embroidered tablecloth, and the other for several sets of pillowcases. I met both at market last month.”
“Aren’t you ambitious!” Rachel kissed her cheek. “You can keep me company.”
They sat on the porch for a few minutes, catching up; then Rachel slipped inside for some cold homemade root beer. “Here, this’ll help cool ya some.”
“Our Yankee neighbors down the road just put in air conditioning,” Sarah told her.
“Well, then you should go over and visit regularly, ain’t?”
That brought a good laugh; then Sarah fanned herself with the hem of her long black apron and turned to smile at Rachel. “You don’t know how much I miss ya.”
“Aw . . . we’d better not talk like that, or we’ll both start crying.” Rachel didn’t tell her how gloomy she’d felt a little while ago, before the van pulled into the driveway. “We’re together now, and maybe you can spend the night?”
Sarah shrugged. “I’d thought of it, but David and the children wouldn’t stand for it. They think they can’t manage without me.”
Rachel snickered. “Maybe you should let them find out.” She cupped her hand over her mouth. “Did I say that?”
They talked about the circle letters presently making the rounds to the other sisters. “It’s one way to keep in touch,” Sarah said, “but there’s nothin’ like sitting here face-to-face, havin’ such gut fellowship together.”
Rachel agreed wholeheartedly. “Can I talk ya into stayin’ for supper at least?”
“I told the driver to return for me in two hours.”
“All right, well . . . I’ll take what time I can get.”
Sarah said, “You must come visit us sometime. Dat and Mamm would love it. They said they had such a nice time here for your eldest’s birthday supper.”
My eldest . . . Rachel wondered why Sarah had said it that way, and quickly changed the subject. “Well, so, how are Dat and Mamm doin’?”
“As busy as the rest of us, what with all the vegetables needin’ picking and puttin’ up.” Sarah also mentioned having new window screens installed, a chore that her husband and two of his brothers were doing together.
“You do have lots of windows in your Haus.”
Rachel marveled that Sarah had somehow managed to show up on the least busy day of this particular week. They talked about this and that, and then Sarah mentioned the nearby tent meetings.
“They’re comin’ to an end soon, yet the crowds continue to grow.” Rachel wouldn’t reveal that Maggie had gone several times, and that they’d seen Joseph’s Witmer cousins more than usual because of it.
Sarah listened, taking it all in. “My David says the crime rate is way down in this area—s’pose all the trouble-makin’ folk are goin’ to the meetings.”
“Well, your husband may be right. But simply going won’t make any difference unless they’re fallin’ to their knees to repent.”
About that time, Nellie and the girls came out onto the front porch of the Dawdi Haus. When they saw Rachel there with Sarah, they waved, and Nellie invited Rachel and her sister over. Always hospitable, thought Rachel. “Denki, but why don’t yous come over here in a little while, all right?” she said, wanting more time alone with Sarah.
While Sarah was talking about her coming grandbaby, Rachel noticed that Maggie seemed to be moving around better and without the constant limp. Could it be a result of the pills? Yet she’d taken them for little more than a week.
“Before ya go, I’d like you to say hullo to the rest of the family,” Rachel told Sarah, still wishing her sister could stay for supper, which was going to be BLT sandwiches and Jell-O, if Rachel had her way. It was much too warm to eat heavily.
“If ya don’t think they’d mind spendin’ time with your ornery sister.”
“Ornery? You’re too sweet to be called that.” She patted Sarah’s arm. “You helped lead me to Joseph, remember?”
“Wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Rachel nodded. “True, I was never much for blind dates.”
“Sometimes you just have to trust your big sister, right?”
“I’m so glad I did.”
Later, when Maggie and the girls returned from Nellie’s, Rachel enjoyed observing them with Sarah. Miriam ran out to get the boys, too, and it warmed Rachel’s heart to see young Stephen be the first to put out his hand to greet Sarah, followed by Andy. Even Leroy was more cordial than Rachel expected. Ever so slowly, he’s warming up, she thought.
Rachel sat on the back porch the next morning, waiting for her peach pies to bake during the coolest time of the day. Being a sister herself, she greatly valued the connection she witnessed now between Maggie and Grace as they worked together in the garden. And sitting there rocking for a moment longer, Rachel noticed something different about Maggie—more stamina, perhaps.
Des gut, Rachel thought. Is she doing better because of the pills? Or is she gleaning strength from reading the Scripture so often? Rachel had found this to be true for herself, especially after her teenage beau had ditched her, leaving her dumbfounded and despairing. So long ago now, she thought, dismissing the thought as she looked over at the newly built stable, so sturdy and striking with its fresh coat of white paint.
She’d ventured out there yesterday, hoping to somehow break the ice with Leroy, who was busy freshening the stall bedding. She’d taken some ice-cold meadow tea, which he drank in nearly a single gulp, but when she asked if she might help fluff the straw, Leroy declared he could do it himself. When she had persisted, his look turned as blank as a wiped chalkboard. It was as though Leroy spoke a different language. Perhaps he didn’t comprehend how willing, even eager, she was to get to know him. Or maybe he simply didn’t welcome Rachel’s desire to reach out. Despite how polite he’d been to her sister Sarah yesterday, he was still resistant to Rachel’s efforts.
Thankfully, she had something pleasant to look forward to tomorrow over at Ruth Zook’s house—a Sisters Day picnic. And while Rachel had no sisters locally, Ruth had insisted she come anyway.
I’ll hear all the neighborhood news, Rachel thought, looking across the expanse of field to the Zooks’ big spread of land. And have some good fellowship, too.
She smiled at the prospect of seeing Ruth and her family. It would take her mind off how stubborn Leroy continued to be. But not rude enough to tell Joseph, she thought, going inside to check on her pies. I’ll spare my husband that, dear man. He’s heard enough from me.
Hours after Maggie’s evening dose of her special supplement, she wandered out to the kitchen, lit the small lantern, and sat at the table with a glass of milk and an apple. To her surprise, her pain had subsided a bit here lately, and she sat there thinking that she just might be getting better.
“You’re still up?” Miriam whispered in the dim light of the kitchen as she tiptoed in.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Maggie said,
taking a sip of milk. “Why’re you awake?” she asked her little sister.
Miriam came to sit next to her. “I had a bad dream.”
“Aw, sweetie . . .” She slipped an arm around her.
“But I don’t wanna talk ’bout it.”
“You don’t have to.” She drew Miriam near. “Will a cookie help?”
Miriam nodded, and Maggie set her free to go to the cookie jar across the room. “Do you ever dream of Mamm?” Miriam asked as she removed the lid.
“Nee, but I’d like to.”
Miriam returned with her cookie and again took a seat.
“I’d love to see Mamm again . . . even if only to spend another day with her,” Maggie admitted.
Miriam took a bite of her snack. “I miss talkin’ to her. We used to walk through the meadow together, too.” She was quiet for a while, taking her time to nibble. Then suddenly she asked, “Do you remember the last thing Mamm said to you?”
“Not really, but I guess I was still expecting to have more time with her. Nobody expected her to pass over to Glory quite so soon.” Maggie sighed as she recalled that terrible day. “Dat was at the mill. Grace and I were in the sewing room, working. . . .”
“I should’ve stayed put that afternoon,” Miriam said, sniffling. “She wanted some water, so I hurried to the kitchen to get it.” Miriam leaned closer to Maggie. “When I took the water upstairs to her, Leroy was standing at the foot of the bed, white as the bed quilt. Mamm died that quick. . . . I’d never seen Leroy cry before,” Miriam whispered.
“Well, tears are precious to God. It’s all right to cry.”
“Even for boys?”
“Sure, even them.”
Miriam seemed to consider this. “Leroy kept lookin’ at Mamm lying there so still, and then shaking his head. He was so awful sad.” Miriam trembled. “He kept mutterin’ somethin’ I couldn’t hear.”
Maggie’s heart broke anew for her little sister.
“I couldn’t believe she was gone,” Miriam whispered. “I stood there and cried with Leroy.”
“I’m so glad he was with ya.”
The First Love Page 15