by Tricia Goyer
Gideon turned in a slow circle again, his eyes searching the trees at the far edge of the pasture. There. He spotted the horse standing about twenty feet back in the trees.
What in the world? Blue was looking his direction, but he didn’t budge. Gideon put two fingers to his mouth and whistled, but still the horse didn’t move. The horse’s ears were perked, but instead of coming to Gideon, Blue gently pawed the ground.
Gideon’s heartbeat quickened again, but this time from excitement. He broke into a full run across the pasture, hoping Ellie was indeed there at Blue’s feet. Hoping she was all right.
When he neared the horse, Gideon slowed his pace a little. A white kapp caught his attention. He wanted to whoop, but settled for a smile.
Ellie sat behind a tree stump. She motioned for Blue to go away. The horse paid her no mind. He stood patiently by her side.
Gideon approached with slow steps. “Ellie.”
The young girl’s eyes were wide as she turned to him.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She lowered her head and shrugged.
“Did you run away?”
Ellie didn’t look at him, but she did nod slowly.
“Do you know you have many people worried? Your dat, mem, your brothers. Marianna and Miss Wyse.”
Ellie pouted. “Mari is mad at me. She’s gonna tell Mem.”
“Tell Mem that you weren’t listening to Miss Wyse?”
Ellie nodded again.
Gideon opened up his arms, stretching them toward the young girl. “Tell you what: if you come back with me, I’ll talk to Marianna, Miss Wyse, and yer mem for you. I’ll make sure they don’t get mad. In fact, I think they’re going to be happy to see you. Would you like that?”
Ellie nodded again before standing and hurrying into his arms. Gideon picked her up, hugging her to his chest.
“Thank You,” he whispered. “Thank You, God, for protecting this child. Thank You for watching over us both.”
CHAPTER
32
Lydia looked at the piece of paper from Mem’s Promise Box and smiled as she read the words:
“I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,” Hebrews 13:5. It had been the verse she’d pulled from the box last night, and it couldn’t be more appropriate. God hadn’t left Ellie. God had protected the girl—protected all of them. God had even allowed Gideon to be the one to find the girl. His face had glowed when he’d carried her on one arm into the schoolyard. The healing had begun—deep healing. She saw it in his eyes.
The community had gathered again to rejoice at the school. Everyone had been safe. God had taken care of them. They all decided to take the next day off—just for families to be together. Many women also stepped up and offered to come and help Lydia during the day. It had been their fault, they said, for expecting one woman to do so much. They didn’t blame her. Rather they blamed themselves and were ready to make a difference. Lydia was thankful. Not only for the help, but for God’s reminder that she couldn’t do it all alone—and that He didn’t expect her to.
Then, just as she and Gideon were heading out of the schoolyard to go home and tell her dat of the excitement, Dave Carash stopped them. He’d asked them to give him some time the next day. Said he needed to talk to them both. Lydia would have been worried if she hadn’t seen deep compassion in the man’s gaze.
Morning had come, and her heart was still full of thankfulness. Lydia had pulled Mem’s rocking chair onto the porch and rocked as she waited for Gideon. When she saw him ahead she tucked the Scripture verse back into the Promise Box and set it just inside the door. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she called to Dat.
“Ja, have a gut time.”
She couldn’t help but jog down the steps and rush to Gideon. He wore a soft smile, but his eyes looked weary.
“Hey, you.” She offered him a quick hug. “Looks like you haven’t slept a wink.”
He chuckled. “That obvious?”
“Ja. Are you worried? Do you think there is a reason Dave wants to talk to you?”
Gideon shrugged and they headed back the direction he’d just come. “I don’t know. I’ve been wondering…into the wee hours. I suppose we’ll find out.”
Lydia slid her hand into his. “You know what?”
“Hmm?” he responded, but she could tell his mind was someplace else. “What’s that?”
“I’ve decided that by your side is my favorite place to be.”
His steps slowed slightly. “Vell, that’s gut.”
“I wouldn’t rather be anyplace else. Doing anything else.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Not even writing that book you’ve been wanting to write?”
Lydia’s spine straightened like one of the tall pine trees outside the window. Should she tell him of the notebooks she’d been filling up? Bonnie had texted that her notebooks made it and the manuscript was in capable hands. She had nothing for him to read. He’d have too many questions. Her heart beat against her rib cage, and though truth pushed against her lips, fear kept them corked. If he knew everything would he still love her?
She’d tell him—she would. She needed the right words first.
An invisible wall rose between them. One she knew too well. A wall of shame that God’s love and light were just starting to penetrate. She needed more time. Soon enough he could discover everything—her whole heart—for himself.
“No.” She shook her head. “I like being with you even more than that. And,” she hurriedly continued, changing the subject, “I’ve been thinking about something else too.”
“What’s that?”
“After the experience with Ellie, I’ve decided I don’t want to live anywhere else. Everyone—well, almost everyone—was so gut. Amish and Englisch alike. It’s as if the dividing line isn’t as thick or long here. The Amish people here are different. I like that.”
“Ja, they’re good people.” Gideon nodded. His eyes glanced over, and the worry eased. “They shed a few pounds of rules when they come to Montana, I think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Vell, folks do not end up in Montana by accident. It takes a lot of work to transplant to a new place, even for a season. It takes boldness to walk away from a safe community into an unsafe one—and when I say unsafe I’m not talking about the rugged peaks or the dangerous animals like bears and such. I’m talking about the dangerous people. The Amish who attend prayer meetings. The Englisch who run to their Amish neighbor’s side whenever there is a need.”
Gideon softly chuckled. “And then there’s that Amish woman who left the Amish to marry a singer who loves God. Marianna is such a rebel. Or even the parents who allow a recently Englisch woman to teach their children.”
“I see what you’re saying.”
“It’s as if, when the winds blow through the mountain passes, stretching down to the log homes, it’s not just the wind. It’s more like the Spirit of God that jest can’t leave things be. He brings winds of change.”
As if highlighting his words, a light, cool wind blew from the south, brushing Lydia’s cheek and causing a collection of dry leaves to dance over her shoe tops as they scurried across the road.
Gideon watched them. “It’s like when one removes the chaff from the wheat. Moving to Montana is like taking a pitchfork to all yer thoughts and ideas, and as you toss them up the wind carries away the meaningless until only the wheat—the substance—remains.”
“It sounds as if you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“I have been thinking about it—even before this incident with Ellie—and over the last few days, I’ve talked to Caleb about it too. It seems only a special sort of people move here for good. Ones who are willing to face the wind and be sifted.”
They neared the Carash house, and Gideon slowed his steps. The look in his eye told her he had more to say before he met with Dave.
“Sifted as wheat.” She muttered those w
ords, sure they were in the Bible somewhere. She was sure she’d just read it recently. That was one thing about Mem’s Promise Box: the Scripture passages were good, but not enough. It was like nibbling on snacks when her soul wanted dinner. Because of that she’d asked Dat for Mem’s Bible, deciding she needed to read it for herself. Discover more of God’s promises for herself.
Gideon blew out a breath. “The sifting doesn’t leave the wheat still and unharmed. It rips it apart. And I’ve been thinking, Lydia, what if the pain we all face is for a purpose?”
“What do you mean?”
“My parents always say,” he continued, “‘God’s ways are best. We need to trust Him.’ But that always put a bitter taste in my mouth. If He is a good God, a loving God, why do bad things have to happen? Why does a sweet Amish woman who just lost her husband have to deal with being raped?” Gideon squeezed her hand tighter. “Why does a gut Amish man who was trying to help a lost boy have to die and his wife and children suffer?”
Gideon sighed. “Yet, from the horrible act your birth mother faced, you were born—a gift to your parents and something I’m thankful for.”
“And about that man—that Amish man that saved your life? Has God spoken to your heart about that?” Lydia softly bit her lower lip, hoping God had.
Gideon lowered his head but didn’t answer.
Dear Lord, please help Gideon find peace for his soul.
Finding Ellie had only been the beginning of God at work. Lydia knew God wanted to do more. He always wanted to do more.
Dave Carash drove them to the last place Lydia expected: the small cemetery where many of the faithful citizens of the West Kootenai area were buried. Gideon placed a hand on Lydia’s back as they walked through the simple metal gate. Her eyes moved to the grave where Mem had been laid to rest. A simple stone marker gave Mem’s name and dates of her birth and death. Unlike the Englisch, the Amish she knew never wrote more than that. They never wrote things like Mother, Sister, Friend or even sweet sayings like Forever in Our Hearts. Maybe it was because the Amish believed it was God alone who saw the soul—who knew what was deep in a person’s heart.
The last time Lydia had been there, Dat’s neighbors had just started filling in a gaping hole in the ground where Mem’s coffin lay. Months later, the grass hadn’t completely grown over the spot, but some had. Time had passed and things had changed. But she had changed most during that time.
Lydia expected Dave to say something about Mem, but instead he turned to Gideon.
Dave cleared his throat. “There’s one thing unique about this cemetery. My guess is that it’s one of the few places where Amish and Englisch are buried side by side.”
Gideon nodded and looked to Lydia. “As they live in life, so are they buried in death.” Then his gaze left hers and focused again on Dave.
“Another thing: there are some folks buried here who lived here their whole life—like Edgar’s parents. They were some of the first settlers to the area and rarely left these mountains.” He strode over to a grave closer to the back corner.
“Then there are those who were only here for a few days.”
Lydia’s gaze moved to the headstone—the old weathered one from twenty years prior—and her heartbeat moved to her throat. She glanced from the simple headstone to Gideon’s eyes, a gasp escaping her lips. “Mose Umble. Is that him? Is that the man who saved you?”
She didn’t need Gideon to answer. From the shocked look on his face, she knew that it was.
Gideon’s legs felt like water. The world around him darkened to shades of gray. He heard Lydia’s voice, but he couldn’t make out her words. Dave was saying something too.
Focus, focus. He turned to Dave. “What did you say?”
“I was saying that, as you know, most Amish don’t write anything but names and dates on headstones, but Mose’s wife…she insisted.”
A thousand needles moved up and down Gideon’s arms, and he was thankful for Lydia’s hand in his. Thankful he could focus on the warmth and strength of her presence.
Gideon read the words again, his stomach clenching:
“Some things are worth dying for.”
“It’s, uh, a nice saying.” He forced the words from his mouth.
“Yes, yes, it is. But it’s more than that.” Dave stepped forward. “If I would have known you were the Gideon, I would have told you the story sooner. I didn’t know, didn’t realize you were that boy. I didn’t know until Ellie got lost. Hadn’t put two and two together.”
Gideon nodded, not knowing what to say. What to do.
“I’m not talking about the story of Mose finding you and coming upon that bear,” Dave said. “I’m not even talking about the fall. I’m talking about what happened afterward.”
Lydia stepped closer. “Maybe we should go to the restaurant, get a cup of coffee. Gideon, you’re looking pale.”
“Ne.” He shook his head. “I want to hear at this place. I need to…”
Dave crossed his arms and looked up to the mountains. Then he pointed. “See those hills over there—where they sweep down and meet over? That’s about where we found you.”
“We?” Gideon asked.
“Ja. I was Mose’s search partner. We were the ones that came upon you.”
“But I thought—Edgar told me it was two Amish men who found me.”
Dave shook his head. “Edgar has a good memory, but not perfect. I was the other one, but at the time I’d only lived here for six months. I wasn’t even married to Susan yet. We saw you first in the distance. Then, only seconds later, we saw the bear lumbering your direction. Neither of us talked about what to do. It was like instinct. We started throwing rocks at that bear and shouting.”
“And then you started running.” Gideon pictured it in his mind’s eye. The young Englisch man and the older Amish man, father of twelve. Of course the bear went after the slower one.
“We got separated,” Dave continued. “It took us awhile to find him.”
“Us?” Lydia asked.
“Yes, there were some other searchers who’d heard the yelling and had come. They found you still asleep. Two men carried you down the hill, while three others and myself went looking for Mose.”
Gideon shook his head. He glanced to the grave again and then back to Dave. It was easier to look at Dave.
“I remember being lost, but I don’t remember being found,” he said. “You’d think I’d remember that. How was he…when you found him?”
“He was alive, conscious, but not doing good at all. We could tell right away that his neck was broke. We knew better than to move him, so one guy went down for Search and Rescue.” Dave pinched his lips together and lowered his head, then looked up to Gideon. “Mose didn’t have strength to say much. He started going in and out of consciousness then. He did tell me to tell his wife and children that he loved them. He also asked about you.”
Tears threatened to fill Gideon’s eyes. He nodded.
“I told him, ‘Mose, the boy is fine. Not a scratch. But it doesn’t look as if you’re doing too good.’ Mose smiled then. It was a big, happy smile. Then he whispered, ‘Some things are worth dying for.’”
The tears came now. Gideon couldn’t hold them back. He didn’t want to. He released Lydia’s fingers, and then his hands covered his face. Yet with the tears came peace.
Dave stepped forward and placed a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “I wanted you to realize that, Gideon. Mose knew, and he was thankful he was able to make the sacrifice. He was a father. He would have picked the same thing again if he had the choice. I know it. I told his wife, Myrna, what he said, and she insisted that it be put on his gravestone, no matter what the bishop said. She said people needed to know. Needed to remember.”
“Some things are worth dying for,” Gideon whispered the words. “I was worth dying for.”
CHAPTER
33
More than anything, Gideon wished he could spend the day with Lydia. After leaving the cemetery with Dav
e yesterday they’d spent the whole day together…and he hadn’t gotten enough of her. She’d been by his side as he worked with Blue. She’d watched him hitch the horse up to her dat’s buggy for practice.
Gideon took a sip of his coffee and smiled at his own surprise. Lydia had fallen in love with Blue, almost as much as she’d fallen for him. She’d be overjoyed to discover he’d bought the horse for her as a special wedding gift. But first he needed to figure out the best way to ask for her hand. Last night, instead of his thoughts dwelling on the past, he’d been thinking about the future. A future with Lydia. Was she considering him as she stitched a quilt with some of the other ladies from the area? As she shared news of the community, did she plan a wedding quilt for them in her mind?
He glanced at the clock, wishing the hours would move faster. Lydia asked him to come that afternoon. He couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, and maybe even sneak a kiss.
It was nearly lunch at the restaurant, and Gideon was about to order a piece of pie to go when he saw a woman park a red convertible outside the front door and stride up the porch steps in bright-red leather boots. She had straight black hair and an outfit that looked like something you’d find in the city. The woman didn’t fit in. Not even close. Gideon ordered another cup of coffee and settled back in. What was this about?
She walked into the store. Edgar welcomed her with a howdy, but she barely glanced his direction. Instead she headed straight to the restaurant area. A group of women were seated there—both Amish and Englisch. She scanned the crowd, frowned, and then set her eyes on Marianna Stone and hurried toward her.
“Excuse me, I was looking for Lydia Wyse.”
“Ja, I know Lydia.” Marianna glanced around. “We all know Lydia. How can we help you?”
“I need to talk to her. It’s very urgent. I have an offer…Well, it’s one she won’t refuse.”
“An offer? Like for another teaching job?”
“A job…of sorts.” The woman’s words trailed off. Then she glanced around. “Wow, it’s amazing. This place is just as she described. I haven’t been here for two minutes, but I already feel as familiar and comfortable here as my grandmother’s living room.”