by Debby Giusti
The mourners caravanned toward the cemetery where they would be burying a man they had held in esteem. Julianne’s heart ached for the community she had known and loved, for the Schwartz family who grieved and for her own loss that still broke her heart.
William kept his gaze on the road ahead. She wanted to touch his shoulder and find some tenderness in his expression, but she saw only the tension in his neck and the thump of a heartbeat that pulsed along his temple.
Once at the cemetery, the bishop opened the graveside service with a prayer. At the conclusion, the pallbearers lowered the hand-hewn coffin into the grave.
The end of another life. The bishop had said death was part of the life process, but so many in their community had died in tragic ways. Julianne saw the women whose husbands had disappeared. Were the men dead, or had they run off, as the sheriff suspected?
What was happening in this small Amish community? Death and grief ran rampant. Julianne couldn’t take more pain. Coming home had been a mistake. She needed to leave. But she didn’t want to leave without William.
* * *
After dinner that night, William went outside to check on the livestock. He also wanted to walk around his property and ensure no one was hovering in the shadows.
The day had been difficult, especially the burial. Aunt Mary had felt it would be best to return home from the grave site, so they had not joined the community back at the Schwartz farm.
Julianne had seemed unsettled at the cemetery, no doubt remembering her brother’s and father’s burials. Plus, William had noted the less-than-gracious welcome from some of the Amish. He had expected them to be more accepting of Julianne, since she wasn’t baptized, but she had left the faith, which was the bottom line. Although she had dressed Amish, many of the more conservative members of the district could not overlook her rejection of the Amish way.
She appeared tired when they got home, and Aunt Mary insisted she rest until dinner. Julie had retired to the guest room for an hour and had reappeared to help with the meal.
“Care for a cup of coffee?”
William was in the barnyard and turned at the sound of Julianne’s voice. She was still wearing the Amish dress that hung on her slender shoulders and cupped in around her waist. He couldn’t help but notice the way the skirt flowed around her legs and moved with her as she descended the porch steps and met him near the water pump.
He took the cup she offered. “The night is cool, and the coffee smells gut. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“I came outside hoping to see the stars twinkle in the night sky.”
He glanced up and pointed to the Big Dipper and the North Star. “It is gut to see the grandeur of the sky, yah? It makes me appreciate Gott’s goodness. The entire universe comes under His care, yet He still watches over me and my needs.”
“At one time I was sure of His benevolence, now...”
She glanced down and sipped from her own cup.
“You blame Gott for what happened?”
“I blame myself. Gott had nothing to do with it.” She hesitated and looked at him, her eyes wide. “Although sometimes I question why He allowed it to happen, and why my father and brother both had to die. At least Ike doesn’t think Bennie killed my datt. That is why I struggle with the sheriff.”
“So where’s the evidence? That’s what needs to be found.”
“Tomorrow, we should search the house again,” she suggested.
He put his mug down near the pump and stepped closer. “I keep thinking of that night at the lake with you.”
Placing her mug next to his, she smiled. “It is a gut memory, before the darkness that followed too soon after.”
William stepped closer. “I thought we had made a connection. Talking to you was gut. We sat on the log by the bonfire and sang songs.”
She nodded. “It was nice being together.”
“Yet you said at the Country Kitchen you had wanted to keep me from Bennie. Were you tricking me that night, Julianne?”
“Oh, Will.” Confusion filled her gaze as she looked up at him. “I did not tell you everything.”
He waited, focused on her sweet lips and the way the starlight played over her cheeks. It took all his effort not to lift his hand to touch her hair.
She lowered her eyes for a moment before glancing up at him again. The openness of her gaze made his chest hitch.
“I went to the lake planning to deter you from following after Bennie. He drove Emma home earlier than I expected, and when you did not follow after them, I must admit to being relieved. But—”
“But what?” He moved closer and rubbed his hand over her shoulder.
“But then I forgot about Bennie and thought only of you and how your smile warmed my heart, and how your laugh was like a gentle spring breeze that made me happy. I realized you were a gut person, and what I had heard about you in town was wrong. I realized Datt was wrong about you, as well. In fact, I had planned to tell him that he needed to see you with eyes of truth instead of eyes of rumor and innuendo.” She shrugged slightly. “Of course, I did not get that chance.”
“I had noticed you earlier that year in a new way.” He thought for a moment, trying to form his words so she would understand. “You walked out of the house when I was with Bennie, and for the first time, I noticed the way the sunlight danced over your auburn hair, and how your face was filled with eager expectation as if you wanted to grasp every moment and live life to the fullest.”
“The day you and Bennie were going to help the Widow Highbush with her plowing?”
He nodded. “You caught my gaze, and I could feel a current run through my body. You felt it, too?”
“A current is not what I would call it, but yah.” She smiled. “Something happened when I glanced at you. Something inside me, as if a closed portion of my heart opened. After my mother died, I felt alone. Datt had a hard time. I—I thought he blamed me.”
“Why did you think that?”
“I had been sick. My mamm became ill a few days later.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I know he blamed me.”
“And what of you, Julianne?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Did you blame yourself, as well? You believe you were responsible for your father and brother arguing and carry guilt for their deaths. Now you tell me you carry the guilt of your mother’s death. Yet death is part of our human existence. Life and death are the natural way. You heard Ike say Bennie did not kill your datt. They were not the ones arguing. It was Bennie arguing with the man who wanted him to go into business with him. That’s who is responsible.”
“If what the deputy said is true.”
“Your mother could have gotten sick just as you did, but not necessarily because of you. And even if she had contracted the illness from you, you did not want your mother to become ill. You are not to blame, Julianne.”
She smiled weakly. “Hearing your reasoning makes me look at what happened differently. Thank you, William.”
“You must listen to my words and not to the negative voice that tries to weigh you down. You are a beautiful woman, Julianne. You carry a light that brightens my world.”
Her gaze pierced his heart.
“Oh, William,” she whispered.
He was swept up in her allure and the warmth he saw in her eyes. Stepping closer, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. He breathed in her goodness, knowing he might lose his heart at any moment.
“Julie, I...”
She lifted her lips to his, and the night stood still. All he could think of was his overwhelming wish to kiss Julianne.
Before his lips touched hers, the kitchen door opened.
“Julianne, it’s cold outside.” Aunt Mary stepped onto the porch. “You and William should come into the house.”
Julianne pull
ed back. Her cheeks pinkened, and she glanced at him with sadness before she grabbed her mug and hurried inside, leaving him to stare after her.
A longing overtook him. He wanted to run after Julie and tell her the effect she had on him. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was a better man when she was in his arms.
“Are you coming in, William?” her aunt asked.
“First, I must check the barn.”
William needed a long moment to still his racing heart and to focus on life as it was, and not what he wished it would be with Julianne. She would leave Mountain Loft and return to her fancy life.
Where would that leave him?
Alone and despondent.
He did not want to have a broken heart. He needed to steel his resolve. Julianne was Bennie’s sister and merely that. Any other thoughts he had about her were foolish and fickle. She was Englisch. He was Amish. A huge divide lay between them, and no matter how much he wanted to bridge that gap, the separation would remain.
He sighed as he grabbed his mug and looked up at the sky. Clouds had covered the stars, and the night seemed as dark as his grieving heart.
EIGHTEEN
Julianne had slept little through the night. Instead, she had thought of William’s crystal-blue eyes and the way he had pulled her into his arms. More than anything, she’d wanted to remain in his embrace and feel his lips on hers. If only Aunt Mary had remained inside a few minutes longer. Although Julianne would have been faced with a whole new set of problems if they had kissed, like how she would ever be able to leave Mountain Loft, and how she would survive without William.
Struggling to get the harness on Aunt Mary’s mare this morning forced her thoughts back to her current situation. She hadn’t hitched a horse to a buggy in three years, but Rosie was even-tempered and would hopefully overlook her clumsiness.
“You’re a sweet girl, Rosie,” she cooed as she patted the mare and climbed into the buggy.
“Be careful,” her aunt cautioned from where she stood on the porch.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Mary. Deputy O’Reilly said Mose Miller would be off the streets for quite a few days.”
“You should wait until William comes in from the pasture. He’ll wonder why you went to town without him.”
“I’ve pulled him away from his work too often. Besides, I won’t be gone long. I have one of Mamm’s baskets and will stop at Jones Grocery to buy fruit before heading to the Schwartz home. Harvey and Nancy were kind enough to gift us with the fruit basket. It’s the least I can do for the deacon’s wife.”
“Still, I will worry about you while you’re gone. Perhaps you should wait until the radiator of your car is fixed so you don’t have to take the buggy.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides—” Julie glanced down at the blue Amish dress she had brought from her house along with the funeral garb “—no one will recognize me dressed Amish.”
Her aunt laughed. “You are mistaken. Everyone will recognize your auburn hair and pretty green eyes even under your kapp. You were right to think of the deacon’s wife and her comfort. She will be more willing to accept the basket from an Amish friend rather than someone who has left the faith.”
“I was dressed Englisch when William and I stopped by her house so he could talk to her husband, but today I don’t want her to feel unduly threatened or question whether she should accept my gift.”
Aunt Mary raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you desire to do more than dress Amish?”
“You mean return to the Amish faith?” She hesitated for a moment. “I must admit, being with you and William has brought that thought to mind.”
“I see the way you look at William. Remaining Englisch means you have closed the door to any future you could have together.”
“Yet I must be true to myself.”
“Ack, you young people and your talk about truth. The truth is you need to accept Gott into your life.”
“I know.” Julianne reached for the reins. “But I’m not able to do that.”
Her aunt sighed. “We will talk more later. Right now, I am concerned for your safety. What about the driver of the white car?”
“Mose worked for Seth Reynolds. He drives a white SUV. Deputy O’Reilly planned to apprehend him, as well. In case that hasn’t happened, I’ll travel along the old back road. An Englischer would never look for me there. Plus, I have my phone in case I need to call for help.”
“I’ll tell William, but I doubt that will ease his mind. Be careful, dear.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The old road to town cut through a thickly forested area and was a pleasant ride. Julianne enjoyed the fresh air and the pretty scenery. Once in town, she tied the mare to the hitching post and hurried into the grocery.
Nancy’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her usually glum face. “Look at you, Julianne, in your pretty Amish dress. Our Anna always longed to wear dresses like yours.”
Julianne’s heart warmed at the memory of her old friend. “And I was envious of Anna’s fancy dresses ribbed with colorful lace.”
Nancy nodded knowingly. “Your mother was concerned you might leave the faith just so you could have crinoline petticoats and taffeta dresses. Of course, she was remembering her own youth.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We knew each other as girls.” Nancy smiled as if she was recalling fond memories. “Your mother was one to push the envelope, so to speak. She wasn’t sure she would remain Amish until your father asked to court her. Love made her decide to remain Amish.”
“She never told me,” Julianne said, surprised by Nancy’s statement.
“That’s the reason she wouldn’t let you go with Anna and me the day we went shopping in Willkommen.” Nancy’s face paled. “Of course, we both know how that ended.”
The day of the car crash when Anna had died. Julianne patted the woman’s hand.
Tears filled Nancy’s eyes. “Had you been in the car with us, I fear you would have been injured, as well.”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to join you.”
“Of course I did, dear.” Nancy acted surprised. “But your mother thought you needed to develop stronger friendships within the Amish community and suggested we not encourage you and Anna to get together again. I didn’t tell Anna. It would have broken her heart.”
“Mrs. Jones, I’m so sorry.”
The woman pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “Talking about the past upsets me. Let’s focus on another subject, shall we?”
“Of course.”
“Can I help you find something?”
Julianne held up the basket she was carrying. “I appreciated the fruit you and Harvey gave me and wanted to do something similar for the Widow Schwartz.”
“She would like that, I’m sure.” Nancy pointed to the produce area. “Gather what you need. We’ll arrange the fruit and add a bow to make it extra special.”
Julianne was pleased with how the basket looked when Nancy finished tying the blue ribbon.
“Tell the widow I’m thinking of her,” Nancy said as Julianne left the store.
The ride to the Schwartz farm passed quickly. Basket in hand, Julianne climbed the porch and knocked on the widow’s door. She knocked again when the door didn’t open.
Finally, a little girl answered and stared up at Julie with big eyes and a dirty face.
“Is your mother home?” Julia asked.
The child closed the door. A few seconds later, the widow appeared. She wiped her eyes and hurried to invite Julia into the house.
“I hope you’ll accept my sympathy,” Julianne said, “and this basket.”
The widow smiled through her tears. “How thoughtful of you. The children will love the fruit, and I will, as well.”
She placed the basket on the table and glanced down at her
dress, which was smudged with dust. “I have been going through Abe’s papers.”
“I know it’s hard.”
The deacon’s wife sighed. “Hard and unsuccessful.”
“You are looking for something specific?”
The widow glanced away. “I hate to admit my concern after everyone has been so thoughtful, but...”
“But what, Mrs. Schwartz?”
“Money that Abe promised would be available if anything happened to him is missing.”
Julianne’s neck tingled.
“I keep wondering if Abe spent it on something, but I cannot determine what that would be.” She hesitated a moment and then added, “We will be fine, of course. The community will rally around us, but it is gut to have a bit of cash for emergencies, yah?”
“Yah.”
Julianne was more concerned than ever on the drive home, knowing three Amish men—not including her father—had told their wives about cash for emergencies only to have the money go missing.
Dark clouds gathered overhead as her aunt’s mare trotted along the old roadway. Fearing the rain would fall at any minute, Julianne hurried her along.
The clouds hid the sun, and the wind intensified. She pulled a lap blanket around her shoulders to keep warm and flicked the reins.
Julianne passed the turnoff to the Krause farm and was nearing the rear of the Miller property when she heard a car engine.
Glancing back, she saw nothing, but the sound grew louder, and her heart fluttered in warning.
Mose was in jail and a passing motorist would not cause her upset. She was being far too neurotic.
Plus, she was convinced a number of people in town still believed Bennie was a killer. Their close-minded attitudes cut her to the core. Nothing would change in Mountain Loft. The town would always think the worst about her brother.