A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “We need to pay you a wage, too. I’m not in the habit of bringing in indentured servants. But we’ll figure out details when you get here. When can you start?”

  Remy laughed. “Tomorrow.” The promise of escaping the city lifted a heavy burden from her shoulders. It was a move away from a lonely past and a plunge into the only future she could imagine. A life among the Amish. A life within a community.

  Remy was going home.

  FORTY-FIVE

  he ground isn’t frozen anymore,” Gabe remarked as Jonah stabbed the shovel deep into the earth. “I guess spring is really here.” At this rate they would be ready to set the fence posts and pour cement this afternoon.

  Adam scraped some of the loose dirt away, blinking as the sight of his brother digging brought him back to the grim memory of digging their parents’ graves.

  He had shared the task with Jonah and some cousins. They had needed pickaxes to break through the frozen crust, and Adam had put his anger into it, beating the earth with all the regret of a wayward son. Even after the first cracks, the frozen parcel of dirt held tight beneath the pick, as if to say the earth was not ready to accept his parents’ bodies.

  To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.…

  Adam had been sure that terrible winter was not his parents’ season, not their time to die. They should not have died in an act of useless violence. They should not have died thinking their oldest son had left the Plain life and the faith.

  Now he realized his own foolishness at questioning God’s order of things. His parents’ deaths had been part of God’s plan, and although he still missed Mamm and Dat, at least now he could accept that they were gone.

  As Adam shoved the blade into the earth, a red, white, and blue FedEx truck bounced down their driveway. Although Adam had spent three years among the English, the sight of the truck, contrasting with the pastoral hills, the windmill, and the barn with its silos, brought a smile to his face. The crossover between two cultures was sometimes a reality check.

  “Looks like a special delivery,” Jonah said. “Want to go check it out?”

  “It’ll keep.” Why waste time making an unnecessary trip back, especially since he and his brothers were in a routine now, with four holes dug already. The sun was shining, a warm day for March, and the pace of work suited him just fine.

  As he grabbed his shovel and followed Jonah down to the next hole, he figured the delivery had to be from Remy. Maybe it was another gift for the children, in which case he wouldn’t have to deal with it at all.

  But he suspected it involved him. He had heard she’d returned to Halfway in the beginning of March. Living and working with Nancy Briggs.

  Remy, here in Halfway. Every time he wondered what that could mean, something flickered in his chest. So much energy had been spent trying to forget her. Now, he imagined he’d have to weave through Halfway, trying to avoid her.

  A few hours later he was fetching a tool from the old workshop when Mary called to him.

  “Adam? Where are you hiding?”

  “By the workbench.”

  Mary held the flat cardboard envelope toward him. “This came for you. From Remy.”

  “Denki.” Adam took the large envelope. He considered tossing it into the wood shavings on the floor, but something stopped him.

  Mary’s fingers smoothed down the sides of her apron. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  “Later. I’ve got to get back to the fence.”

  “She’s back, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “You know she’s talked to the bishop about joining our church.”

  “She did?” That was quite a step. “How do you know this?”

  “Our own sister Sadie went with her, but I didn’t hear it from her. Someone brought it up at a quilting bee.”

  So Sadie had gone along.… Not surprising, since Sadie had told him she was sticking by Remy. “After everything we’ve been through, I can forgive her for a lie,” Sadie had told him.

  Mary moved closer to the worktable. “Are you planning to see her?”

  “If I drive through town with my eyes open, I might see her, ya.”

  She laughed. “You’re so hard on yourself.” She fingered the handle of the steel vise. “Hard on her, too.”

  He kept his eyes on the tool tray. “What’s for lunch?”

  “Cheeseburger soup, and I get the message. I’ll leave you alone.”

  He left the envelope on the tool bench as he combed through the tools, searching for what? He couldn’t recall.

  The cardboard was crisp and glossy in his hands as he ripped it open. Inside was a four-page typed story, unpublished, from the looks of it.

  Worrying the pages of the article that had destroyed his relationship with Remy, he took it upstairs, to the wood shop’s tiny attic where the children liked to play. Recently Leah had taken to schooling Simon here, a practice they both seemed to enjoy, with Leah reading to him and correcting his short compositions. On the small carton they used as a table lay Simon’s marble notebook, stubby pencils, and a pair of small binoculars he’d seen the children passing around for bird-watching.

  He sat beside the crate, knees to his chin, and dared himself a glance at the first page. “Amish Life: The Light from Within” was the title.

  Sort of soft for the details of a double murder.

  With clenched jaw, he began to read and quickly realized it was not the investigative story Remy had planned. Instead, it was a humorous essay of love for an Amish family. Remy’s details were poignant and amusing, and she captured the flavor of life here among the Plain People.

  He choked up when she mentioned “the quiet boy” who found his voice.

  Their Simon.

  Sometimes he wondered if she had championed the murder investigation for Simon, as a way of helping him find some closure. Other times, he chastised himself for thinking Remy was at all trustworthy. He figured that you could forgive a liar, but it was foolish to think you could trust her.

  And what of Remy’s investigative story? There wasn’t a word about his parents’ murders in this piece. Not a single word.

  She was dressed Amish, and the hunter green dress brought out the hue of her eyes, bringing to mind a verdant summer pasture. Adam paused in Zook’s barn, at the edge of the marketplace, and ducked behind a shed, waiting for his pulse to return to normal.

  What was it about Remy that set him off balance every time he saw her? Why did he like so many things about her, from her desire to make people happy to that mischievous look on her face when she smiled? If this attraction wasn’t so strong, it would be no problem to walk up to her and straighten things out.

  But it was a problem.

  The sick feeling wasn’t going away; he might as well get this over with, and then future meetings probably wouldn’t prove so awkward. He approached the table stacked with boxes of muesli bars and waited until she finished with her group of customers.

  “Remy.”

  She lifted her face, her eyes glimmering. “Adam! It’s really good to see you … well, I wasn’t sure if you’d be speaking to me.”

  He lifted a granola bar, as if testing its weight. “I heard you were working for Nancy.”

  “She’s been wonderful, putting me up and everything. A real lifesaver.”

  “Nancy is good people.”

  “Turns out I’ve connected with a lot of good people here. I’m going to make Halfway my home, but … Preacher Dave said I should talk to you first about joining the congregation.”

  Adam stared at her. She was serious about this.

  “He said I could start visiting Sunday services, as long as it’s okay with you.”

  “Okay with me?”

  “I don’t want you to feel like I’m stalking you, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I respect your privacy and … did you read my article?”

  “I did. It was very nice.” He tossed the bar back into the
box. “What happened to your investigative report?”

  She looked down at her folded hands. “I didn’t have it in me. I thought you knew that when I left? Writing about your family was the reason I came, but it drifted by the wayside once I got to know everyone.”

  Once you became a part of us, he thought, like the center patch of a diamond quilt.

  It still hurt him. He was supposed to be forgiving her, but the wound was so fresh.

  A customer came by, and he waited as she made the sale.

  When they were alone again, he moved to a safer subject. “You know, the children still talk about you.”

  “Do they?” Her brows rose. “I miss them. I really miss them. But I would never drop in at the farm. I’ll give you your—” Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she stared across the market. “There’s Simon!”

  Adam turned to see his brother frozen, his mouth open in a perfect oval.

  “Come on over.” Adam gestured for Simon to join them, and the boy began to walk over but quickly accelerated to a run.

  “Remy! You’re here!” Simon looked up at his older brother for approval.

  Adam gave a nod, but Remy was already coming around the table, her arms outstretched.

  “You are a sight to behold,” Remy gushed, taking the boy into her arms and rocking him in a hug.

  A grin lit up Simon’s face. “And you’re a sight to hold on to.”

  Adam had to smile. He couldn’t dispute Simon’s attachment to her.

  “Leah’s been helping me write a letter to you … but now you’re here! Can you come back to the farm?”

  Remy bit her lower lip. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Just for a visit?” Simon begged.

  It was the last thing he wanted, and yet Adam knew he had to say the words. It was part of practicing peace: gelassenheit. He cleared his throat and said: “I want you to know you’re welcome in our home.”

  Remy looked up at him, biting back emotion. “That means a lot to me. I promise you, I won’t abuse that privilege.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  “Wonderful good!” Simon lifted his finger. “Wait here while I fetch Ruthie and Sadie. They’ll want to see you, too!”

  Remy straightened as he scampered off. She leaned against the edge of the table next to Adam as if they did this all the time.

  When he turned to her, he lost his thoughts because her face was just inches from him, creamy skin, tawny lips, and those green eyes that he longed to lose himself in.

  “So, does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?” she asked. The way she squinted tugged at something inside him.

  He had it bad.

  “I could never hate you.”

  A broken smile parted her lips. “Well, you had me fooled.”

  He took a breath, thinking he would spare her the lecture on forgiveness. He thought of Dave’s advice. Just act like it’s happened, faith into action. “As I said, I’ve been wrestling with a few issues.”

  “I know how that is.”

  “Since we’re throwing out the difficult questions, I have to ask you what you’re doing here. Why did you come back?”

  “That’s a tough one.” Her eyes suddenly clouded with something he couldn’t decipher before she looked away. “In a nutshell, I came back to be part of this community. Back in the city …” She shrugged. “I just didn’t matter there. But here, I make a difference. I feel closer to God here, and when I’m in Halfway, I feel connected to the people around me. Does that make sense?”

  He nodded, recalling his time away from home. The outside world had proven to be alive with activity, but lacking in spirit.

  Once again they were interrupted when Simon returned with Ruthie and the twins, who squealed with pleasure to see Remy.

  “Sadie wants to see you, too,” Ruthie said, holding Remy’s hand, “but she had to stay and make the sales.”

  “We’re selling cheese today,” Susie reported.

  “And I spotted a rare bird with the binoculars you gave me.” Leah shifted from foot to foot. “An ash-throated flycatcher.”

  “That’s fantastic! I’ll come visit with Sadie on my break. I’ve missed you so much!” Remy put a hand on Leah’s right shoulder. “So what did your rare bird look like? Was he cute?”

  Adam pulled himself away from the group. Let them enjoy their reunion. For although he enjoyed being near Remy, the pain was still there.

  In fact, he wondered if there had been any healing at all.

  That night, just after Katie and Sam were tucked into bed, the house was jolted by the sound of thunder. Upstairs in the new bathroom, Adam was on his knees caulking around the tub when the blast rocked the house.

  He propped the caulking gun on a piece of old newspaper and went to check. From downstairs he heard the girls squeal and giggle. Then a wailing sound came from the boys’ room.

  “Simon?” Adam found his brother staring out the window of the bedroom.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just part of the storm. Remember the science books? When the lightning bolt hits the air, it causes shock waves that echo down to earth.”

  “I know that.” Simon sniffed. “It’s not the storm. I need the binoculars. Every night I stand here and look out with the binoculars. But tonight I can’t find them.”

  Adam sat on the bed behind him. “What do you look for?”

  “Cars. I think if someone gets stuck on the road, then I will tell you, and you will help them.”

  “I see.” After all that Simon had been through, Adam would have thought the boy would be on the lookout for invaders; but it was just the opposite. He was ready to play the Good Samaritan. Simon had forgiven.

  Simon swiped a sleeve over his eyes. “I can’t see the road now. And the rain makes it worse.”

  “I think we need to find your binoculars.”

  A quick search of the room turned up nothing. The field glasses were most likely in the attic of the wood shop, where Leah did most of the homeschooling with Simon. As Adam dashed through the streaking rain, he realized it was time for Simon to go back to school, now that the media interest had died down and the killer had been apprehended. Simon would be happy to return to the schoolhouse with Teacher Emma.

  Adam lifted the lantern inside the dark shop and found his way to the ladder. Right away he could see the small binoculars, placed neatly beside Simon’s marble notebook. He propped the lantern on the crate, taking a moment to look through the lessons Simon had written. There were lists of spelling words and short essays about snow and how to care for your horse. Adam could see Leah’s help in these. Maybe she would enjoy teaching in their little schoolhouse one day.

  When he came upon a letter to Remy in the notebook, Adam paused. Was this just for practice?

  Dear Remy,

  Leah has been bird-watching, but she lets me use her glasses, too. Sometimes I watch from my window at night. I look for the lights of your car. Most of the snow has melted but it’s very muddy. If you get stuck in the mud, you can come stay with us. Adam is still very mad, but someday I think he will forgive and he will like you again.

  Your friend,

  Simon King

  Simon’s message hit hard. He closed the book, grabbed the binoculars and lantern, and retreated into the storm. Raindrops pinged against his hat as he sloshed through the mud.

  All this time, he’d been walking around in a cloud of anger so dark and dangerous even a child could see it. He had hated himself for holding on to the pain. And now he hated himself for hating himself.

  Why couldn’t he just let go?

  Gelassenheit. Peace. Serenity.

  Heavenly Father, please grant me the serenity to let this pain go.

  The sky flashed bright, followed by bounding rumbles of thunder.

  Heal me, Father. Please, let me catch gelassenheit.

  Another lightning strike, and in that split second he saw his life torn in half. The hills were white, the sky split by a jagged line
of electricity.

  Split down the middle, as if to say, That was your past, this is your future.…

  He removed his hat, letting the rain pelt his head and wash down his skin as he returned to the house, a new man.

  FORTY-SIX

  he storm raged through the night, periodically tapping her window, then shifting with the wind to rattle the branches of trees behind Nancy’s house.

  Remy was awake through most of it, her state of mind matching the rolling thunder and bright white lightning. She wouldn’t have slept even on the calmest of nights, as her thoughts and emotions had been scratched raw again at the sight of Adam.

  What was she doing here?

  That was the question he’d asked her, and though she’d answered truthfully she was now beginning to question the wisdom of her plan. Building a life in Halfway, dodging the perimeter of Adam and his family, she would be facing painful reminders of her own sin and failure every single day.

  What had she been thinking?

  Tonight she had more questions than answers.

  Sometime during the night the angriest part of the weather front passed, and Remy drifted off to sleep until the sound of the ringing phone woke her.

  Not even six A.M.

  She opened her bedroom door and heard Nancy down in the kitchen.

  “Right through the roof? Thank the good Lord you’re okay. Did you get any rain inside?”

  Recognizing concern in Nancy’s voice, Remy padded downstairs and faced the older woman across the wide granite island.

  “That’s awful, Gina, but you know, things can be replaced. You just sit tight. I’m coming over. No, it’s no bother at all, and I have no qualms about alerting the Kings. They’ll fix it right up. We all will. You just sit tight.” Nancy pressed the button to end the connection, her mouth a slash of concern.

  “That didn’t sound good.”

  “That was Gina Mueller. You know, Chris’s mother? Talk about adding insult to injury. A huge tree came down in the storm last night. Sounds like it lopped off the corner of her house.”