by Amy Lillard
Zane smiled. He supposed he did look different than he had just over two months ago. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He shook the man’s hand, then turned to Ruth. “I’m glad you’re home, Ruth. Now, I won’t have to worry about you riding around with this maniac.”
Ruth smiled, but the action was weak, her eyes watery.
Zane knew what he needed to do. He looked to Bill. “Can you stay for supper tonight?”
“Abram will be disappointed if he doesn’t get to see you.” Ruth’s voice was stronger than her expression.
But Bill was already shaking his head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. It’s my oldest daughter’s birthday, and we’re all goin’ out to eat. Gotta save room for that.” He patted his slightly rounded, middle-age paunch.
“Then I believe pickles are in order.”
Zane helped Ruth inside and gathered up some pickles for the driver, walking him to his car with a case full of mason jars.
“Money for gas?” Zane asked as Bill got into the car and cranked the engine.
“You know what to do with that,” the Mennonite said as he put the car in gear.
Zane nodded with a smile. “I sure do.”
He watched Bill pull out of the drive, then turned to go back into the house to check on Ruth. To the casual observer, she looked fine, strong even. Shoulders set, chin lifted. But Zane had been living with the woman and her family for months and he could see that she was struggling. One good wind could knock her over.
She had her back to him as he entered. She was standing at the stove, as if about to cook, or make tea, or something, but she wasn’t moving. Just standing there as if she could fool him.
“Ruth.”
He said her name, and her shoulders stiffened, then fell. She buried her face in her hands, sobs taking over her body.
Zane shot to her side, turning her around and wrapping her in his arms. He knew it wasn’t the Amish thing to do, hold a woman who wasn’t his wife. This was one time he was very glad to be English. Ruth needed all the comfort she could get.
He didn’t count the minutes that he stood there holding her, offering her the strength of his body to soothe her spirit. He only knew that she had given him so much—offered her home to him, fed and clothed him, given him a place to sleep with warm blankets. It was his turn to pay her back, even only a little.
Finally her sobs subsided. She pulled away from him, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that she was in another man’s arms. She sniffed, a choked laugh escaping from her lips as she wiped at her tears. “Goodness me. Look at me, carryin’ on like that. Where are my manners?”
“Ruth.” She didn’t have to pretend with him.
She turned back toward the stove and reached for the kettle that was always close. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Ruth.” He stilled her hands. “Sit down. I’ll make the tea.”
She took a shuddering breath, and for a moment, Zane thought she might protest. Instead she gave him a grateful, if not tear-soaked, smile and eased down into a chair at the table.
Zane filled the kettle with water and set it to boil in the stove, then retrieved the tea bags and mugs.
“You know your way around the kitchen, Zane Carson.”
He shrugged. “It comes with the territory.”
“Territory?”
“Being a bachelor. Constantly on the road.”
He looked at the propane-powered gas stove. “I’ve cooked on worse. Much worse.”
“The stove was a gift from Gideon to Annie.”
“And they’re supposed to get married next year?”
“That is our custom. To get married in the fall when the harvest is complete, and the chores are lighter.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Gideon and his Annie?”
Zane shook his head. “Your appointment.”
“I would rather talk about anything else.”
The whistle of the kettle punctuated her words.
Zane added a tea bag to each mug and filled them with the hot water. He added honey, then carried them to the table.
He sat one down in front of Ruth, then took the chair opposite her.
“Danki,” she said, blowing over the top of the mug to cool the scalding liquid.
They sat that way for a minute or two, steamy mugs and silence before Ruth spoke and shattered the quiet with her solemn words.
“I’m scared, Zane Carson.”
He didn’t ask her about what. “I think that’s only normal.”
She shook her head. “I’m not afraid about the cancer. I’ve prayed about that.”
“What else is there?” To Zane, Ruth had it all—a loving family, a nice house, a network of caring friends.
Tears filled her eyes. “Will you pray with me now?”
A stab of apprehension shot through Zane. He’d never prayed for anything in his life. He had only in the last few days decided that there was even a God to pray to.
“In Matthew, the Bible says that when two pray together then the truth it shall become. Please, Zane Carson. Pray with me.” Ruth reached across the table and clasped his hand into her own. Her knuckles turned white under the force of her grip.
How could he say no?
“I don’t know how,” he admitted.
Ruth smiled through her tears. “You just bow your head and talk to God. Thank Him for the blessings and ask Him for answers.”
“That’s all there is to it?” That sounded simple enough. Almost too simple. Still, apprehension raced through him.
“Jah.” Ruth nodded. “But afterward you have to make sure to leave your heart open so that you can hear His answer.”
He reached out his other hand and held both of hers in his as they bowed their heads.
Zane had seen the Amish pray enough times before and after dinner to know their prayers were silent. He wasn’t exactly sure how God could hear his thoughts. But then, if God were truly the Creator, it seemed only natural that He would know everything.
God? he asked hesitantly, then with more confidence. God. This is Zane Carson, down in Oklahoma. I’m here with Ruth Fisher, God. And she’s hurting. She’s just had her cancer scans, and we’re waiting on her test results. She’s scared, God, but I don’t know of what. Whatever it is, she needs peace. I’m praying for that. I want her to have peace, God. Peace to stop crying and to be patient until her test results come in. But I don’t think that’s all that’s bothering her, and I don’t think she’s going to tell me what it is. I know that You can give her peace for her worries, even if I can’t name them.
And God? I don’t know why Abram didn’t go with Ruth to the doctor today, but I think maybe that is bothering her as well. God, whatever has come between them, I ask that You heal it for her.
What else had Ruth said? Blessings. Thank God for the blessings.
I never really thought about it before, but I have a great deal of blessings in my life. One was being able to come here and be with the Fishers. I never believed in You before. That’s not right. I’d never thought about it before. But now I have, and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn about You. And that I live in a free country where I can believe in You without persecution. I am thankful that I had the upbringing that I did. For it allowed me to experience life differently and be open to You when I had the opportunity . . .
Zane realized that the blessings were too many to count. He was thankful for Monica, his uncle, all of the Fishers, his job, the things he’d learned in his life, and the fact that he’d been shot. Strange as it sounded, without the injury he would never have had the opportunity to come here and learn about God. A blessing, definitely. Heavenly intervention? Only He knew.
Zane realized why the Fishers prayed so often. No matter how m
any times he prayed, there would always be something he forgot to add to his list of thanks and blessings.
Thank You, God, for all that and more. “Amen,” he murmured.
He looked up to find Ruth watching him, a curious look on her face.
She squeezed his hands once more, then pulled hers into her lap. “You’re a good man, Zane Carson.”
“Danki.”
“It is no wonder why Katie Rose’s eyes light up whenever you are around.”
Did they? He hadn’t noticed, maybe because he was too busy trying to pretend like seeing her didn’t have any effect on him. “I don’t think I’m comfortable talking about this.”
“Sometimes what the Lord has planned for us, and what we think we want, are not the same.”
Definitely not comfortable. No doubt about it. Time to change the subject.
Zane pulled his newly charged cell phone from the clip-on holder at the waistband of his pants and slid it across the table to Ruth. “You gave the doctor this number, right?”
She nodded.
“I set it on vibrate. That means you’ll have to carry it around close in order to hear it. Do you have a pocket you can put it in?”
She shook her head.
He shouldn’t be surprised. It seemed the Amish had something against pockets. Or maybe they preferred the simplicity of design in their pants and skirts. He unsnapped the holder and slid it across to Ruth.
“This part clips to your clothes. When it rings, it will sort of buzz. If it’s next to your body, you’ll be able to feel it. Just touch this button here to answer it. Touch it again to hang up. Got it?”
She nodded.
“If anyone else calls just ignore it. Okay?”
She nodded again, and Zane was afraid she was dangerously near tears. “Danki, Zane Carson.”
“You’re welcome, Ruth Fisher,” he teased with a smile. He didn’t want her to cry again. They both had so much to be thankful for. “Everything’s going to be just fine. You know that, right?” He believed that. As he had prayed, a warm, peaceful feeling had washed over him. God, he had decided, was trying to tell him that everything would be okay for Ruth and whatever was bothering her.
He stood. “The Lord helps those who help themselves.” Where had that come from? He must have heard it from Gabriel or Gideon. Maybe even Abram or Ruth herself. Had to be. “And you’ve done all you can do for yourself, Ruth. The rest is up to God.”
Ruth smiled. “I will remember that, Zane Carson.”
11
Bold. That was the only word Katie Rose could think of to explain her actions. She had gotten bold. Too bold. But she wanted to make sure Zane attended the Christmas pageant. She told herself it was because he needed to hear God’s message, that he needed to foster his beliefs and turn his life over to God. Amish didn’t go around trying to convert, and she labored under no pretense that he would give up his Englisch life as a reporter and take up the mantle of Plain living.
As true as all of that was, it wasn’t the real reason. She wanted Zane Carson to come to the pageant because she wanted to see him again. She wanted him to look upon the eager faces of the children and watch their hard work. She wanted to show him her purpose in life. She wanted him to know that even though love had abandoned her, she still had a worthy calling.
And for all the talk of the sins of pride, she knew that she would have to pray extra hard for forgiveness from her thoughts.
Katie Rose raised her hand and knocked on the door of her parents’ haus then let herself in. She only knocked once in case her mudder was resting. Mamm seemed even more tired of late, and Katie Rose knew that waiting for the test results had been the hardest part of this journey by far. But Katie Rose knew—she knew—with as much certainty that she knew the sky was blue and the grass green, that her mother would make it through this. The house was quiet. No sign of her mother or Annie. Her mother was probably upstairs lying down, and Annie was surely at Gideon’s. Noni was likely in her room, knitting or resting herself. There was no sign of her bruder, her vatter, or Zane.
Katie Rose went back outside as the buggy pulled to a stop. She took a deep gulp of the cool air and willed her heart to cease its juvenile thumping. Zane Carson was sitting in the driver’s seat. He was wearing a black coat that most likely had belonged to one of her brothers at one time or another and a black brimmed hat. He looked so much like a proper Amish man, her mouth went dry, and her heart gave a hard pound. She pulled her coat a little closer around her as he hopped down. She wasn’t cold, but she needed something to do besides run to him and fling herself into his arms.
The thought was so brazen, that she gasped. What was the matter with her? She needed to get control of herself and quick. It was one thing to be intrigued with their Englisch visitor, but quite another to act upon it. With him looking so much like one of them, she was hard-pressed to remember her place.
“Hi.” He waved one arm, then gathered up the horses’ reins and walked them toward the barn.
Katie Rose waved back, hoping the pure joy bursting from her heart wasn’t spread clear as day across her face. It was one thing to feel this way about the handsome Englischer and quite another to let him know. It would do no good to reveal her feelings. It would probably make it even harder when the time came for Zane to go back to his world.
A painful lump clogged her throat. He’d be going home in a little over two weeks. The thought was so sad. He would be sorely missed when he was gone.
She blinked away unexpected tears as he came back out of the barn and approached her. She tried not to soak it in, the easy way he walked, each sure and confident footstep leading him toward her, the smooth grace that only he possessed.
“I didn’t expect to see you today.”
She tempered her smile at the pleased tone of his words. “I wanted to give you this.” She handed him the invitation to the Christmas pageant. It wasn’t truly an invitation, but a drawing the children made letting him know they wanted him to attend. Each child had written something and signed their name. Only because the children had so wanted him to be there, did Katie Rose feel comfortable delivering the paper to him. Otherwise, the action would have been too forward. Well, she hoped that the action was tempered since it came from the children.
He smiled as he opened the envelope, pulling out the paper and carefully unfolding it. She bit her lip as he scanned the paper, turning it this way and that to take in all the signatures and neatly printed messages.
“I’m honored. Of course, I’ll be there.” His smile grew even brighter, as if he truly meant his words, and Katie Rose smiled in return.
“The children will be so pleased.” And me too, she silently added.
A heart beat thumped between them.
“It’ll be my first Amish Christmas pageant. Do I need to do anything special? Bring anything special?”
“Only yourself.”
“I can do that.” He smiled again, and Katie Rose felt a little chunk of her heart fall away. She needed to figure out how to stay away from him before he ended up with it all.
Ruth had almost forgotten the shiny little phone she had clipped to the underside of her skirt. Almost. When it started buzzing, it scared her nearly out of her skin. She thought she had a bee trapped in her clothing.
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as she unhooked the device. What if it was the doctor? What kind of news would it be? She didn’t think she could handle any bad news, not after all the heartache the treatment had caused. Not after it altered her beyond recognition. Not after the amount of money it had cost them.
The phone continued to buzz as she said a little prayer to the Lord above. She almost prayed that it wasn’t the doctor on the phone, but instead asked the Lord for the news that they wanted. News that she was indeed cancer free. That all of the heartache, pain,
and money hadn’t been in vain.
Monica the little screen read, and Ruth breathed a bit easier as she replaced the phone. Still her hands shook. Zane had told her not to worry if anyone else called. Yet, she just about ignored his wishes and went to find him. As far as she knew, Zane had no other family members, so Monica could only be his intended.
She’d just have to remember to tell him later that Monica had called his little black phone.
The Saturday before the pageant, Zane loaded up the wagon and rode over to see Ezekiel Esh. Abram had asked him to check on the man, and Zane willingly accepted the duty. He wanted to believe it was only because he liked the old man, but he was hoping to run into Katie Rose. There were no more fishing trips, no more rabbits to take to her, no more invitations to extend. Yet he still wanted an excuse to see her. Unable to find one, this was his best opportunity, and he readily seized it.
He would be able to see the deacon as well, to make sure he didn’t need for anything. Esh had long since given up his livestock except for the few chickens he kept for eggs. Even the milk cow had gone on her way as Esh could neither sit down on the stool or squeeze hard enough to release the milk.
Zane didn’t have much to do except make sure there was enough feed for the chickens, plenty of firewood close to the house, sufficient kerosene to fuel his lanterns, and to offer a bit of company.
Once his tasks were completed and he was getting ready to drive the buggy back to the Fisher’s, Esh pounded his cane on the hard planks of the floor, the sound as loud as a gunshot. “I expect you to come fetch me for the pageant.”
Zane blinked in response, then found his voice. “Abram said that John Paul was coming to get you.”
“He might have at that. But I’ll not be gettin’ in that fancy Englisch car of his.”
Zane had to hide his smile. John Paul’s car was a disaster at best. He couldn’t blame Esh for not wanting to ride in it, but fancy was not a word Zane would ever use to describe the old Ford.
Ezekiel raised his cane and pointed it at Zane. “I want to ride with you.”