Guardian, the

by Beverly Lewis

  Immediately, his demeanor had changed, and he reached for her hand with a broad smile. “Gut news, indeed.”

  She was pleased but pondered the worry she and Mollie and others in their family had experienced during each of their pregnancies due to the real possibility of genetic diseases.

  “Let’s pray,” Benuel said, as if sensing her unease. And, still holding her hand, he asked God to bless their coming child, asking for a divine shield to cover him . . . or her. “Make this little child strong for you,” he concluded. Maryanna had never forgotten.

  ———

  When Sarah finished coloring her page and taped it to the refrigerator, Maryanna watched her run outside to find Leda. Meanwhile, she hurried next door to look in on her parents. Already beginning to second-guess the walk she’d taken with the Englischer, Maryanna realized she’d been much too plainspoken. Had she succumbed to whatever the children sensed in the fancy yet likeable brunette?

  Was it her white clothing?

  But, no, Jodi Winfield was not an angel sent from heaven. Maryanna laughed under her breath as she stooped to shoo away a pesky gray barn cat. Jodi was just an Englischer, for goodness’ sake!

  Maryanna ran up the steps to the back door, delighting in her mother’s arrangement of red and white geraniums all across the back porch and the hanging basket of petunias, as well.

  “Hullo, Mamm . . . Daed,” she called through the screen door before she opened it.

  Her parents were sitting in their small front room, on the side facing the road, away from the hot sun. The dark green shades were all the way up to let the faint breeze come in. It certainly looked like her mother was helping it along by fanning herself with Daed’s blue paisley kerchief.

  “You had yourself a pleasant visitor,” her father said, looking up from his newspaper. “We liked her.”

  “Thank you for praying for little Sarah’s return,” she said.

  “’Tis a miracle she wasn’t hurt more than she was,” Daed said.

  “Well, if anyone’s gonna fall out the back of the carriage, it’s Sarah.” Mamm looked up from her cross-stitch sampler. Her hair was pulled tight into its bun, and her crisp white Kapp was freshly ironed.

  “I never would’ve thought she’d lean so far as to tumble out, though,” Maryanna replied as she took a seat next to her father on the upholstered settee. “It’s beyond me what she was even doin’.”

  Her father folded the paper. “I ’spect she was curious ’bout the cars, just maybe?”

  “You know Sarah well, I daresay.”

  “That we do,” Mamm said, pushing her needle into the fabric and then folding her arms. “She’s always been a curious sort.”

  Maryanna suppressed her smile. There was no doubt Sarah had enjoyed her momentary flirtation with fancy life.

  But her mother wasn’t finished. “And, not to worry ya unduly, but if somethin’s not done, and real soon, I’m afraid you’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

  “You’re not the first to say so.” Maryanna looked toward the window and sighed. Ella Mae had also said as much. Everyone, in fact, sounded worried about Sarah.

  “Then what can be done?” asked Mamm, looking hard at Daed now, as if urging him to speak his mind. “You’re bringing the children up in the fear and admonition of the Lord—we know that.”

  Such a long day, Maryanna thought. “’Tween you and me, last night I began to wonder if God had taken her early,” she admitted.

  Her father’s grim frown indicated his concern. “Some believe when such a little child goes like that, it’s the Almighty’s way of keeping them unto himself.”

  “Still, she’s so young, Daed.”

  “Well, and she’s safe now,” Mamm piped up.

  Daed ran his fingers through his thick, graying beard. “Have you considered the Lord God may have given a warning?” He stopped to punctuate his remark. “And will ya heed it?”

  Maryanna felt her ire rise, but she bit her lip.

  Her mother’s brow puckered. “Don’t take this wrong, dear, but we think it’s time for the children to have a stepfather. Past time, maybe.”

  Maryanna gasped.

  “Not to put our noses in . . .”

  Dat spoke up. “I know just the man, too.” He chuckled.

  There were several local widowers, some older than others, but there was only one widower—Turkey Dan Zook, with five sons—that she was fairly certain they were thinking of. Dan was known as a man with some financial means, having received his grandfather’s small turkey farm years ago. Even so, no one was a fit replacement for her Benuel.

  “Seriously, ya might just ask the Lord to open your heart again to a man, is all,” her father said, then pressed his chapped lips firmly together.

  “Will ya give it to prayer, dear?” Mamm asked.

  Maryanna shuddered. Her children were suffering without a father, especially little Sarah, as her parents had so aptly pointed out. But could Maryanna release her memories of Benuel, such a good man?

  I’d hoped to grow old with my first love.

  “Meanwhile, why not bring Sarah over to visit more often?” Daed said with a smile. “Spending time with her nearest grandfather might just be a gut thing, too.”

  Meanwhile? Do they think I can just snap my fingers and make this happen—this remarrying notion of theirs?

  “Jah,” Mamm was saying, rocking fast in her chair. “Your father and I want to help steer Sarah toward the church.”

  “I’ll encourage her to visit here more,” Maryanna said. “But that’s all I can do.”

  “Nee, ya can’t make a child go against his or her will,” Daed spoke up. “But you can point them in the direction of the right path.”

  Maryanna wondered if he was referring to the old willow switch she’d tossed out a week after Benuel died. It wasn’t in her to physically discipline little Sarah that way. Now the boys, that was another story, but she’d chosen the paddle for their backsides. As for Leda, all Maryanna had to do was give her a stern look and tearful repentance burst forth.

  “Would ya like a fresh loaf of bread?” Maryanna asked, ready to change the subject. “I’ll let the bread cool, then bring over a loaf.”

  “Got any blueberry jam?” Daed asked, eyeing Mamm. “I daresay we’re all out.”

  Mamm laughed suddenly. “Can’t keep it round here for long.”

  “Sure, I’ll have Leda check the cold cellar. I know we’ve got a-plenty.” Maryanna rose and waved. “I’ll send little Sarah over with the bread in a while.”

  Daed’s wrinkled face brightened, and he tugged on his black suspenders, letting them snap. “I’ll spread blueberry jam on a piece of toast for her,” he said. “That’ll get her attention.”

  “Actually, she doesn’t like it,” Maryanna reminded him.

  “What does she like on bread?”

  “Mostly honey—and sometimes a sprinkling of cinnamon, too.”

  Daed shook his head. “No fruit jams?”

  “Not a single one.”

  Mamm broke into the conversation. “She’s a picky eater, I’ll say.”

  “Leaves more jam for me, ain’t?” Daed grinned.

  Maryanna called good-bye and hurried back to the main house to find Sarah watching Leda carefully pull the loaves of bread out of the gas oven.

  Standing in the doorway observing her daughters and recalling her parents’ sobering words, Maryanna knew they were right. Without a doubt, Sarah’s soul was more important than Maryanna’s reluctance to remarry.

  And yet, the mere idea of dating and remarriage made her shy away. Knowing what she ought to do, and doing it, were ever so different.

  Chapter 20

  Still under the spell of Hickory Hollow, Jodi put a small load of laundry in to wash, including the white skirt. Then, wearing her shorts outfit, she carried her laptop to the breakfast nook and sat in the very chair where spunky little Sarah had sat that morning.

  Reliving her time with Sarah and
her family—Sarah’s insistence on sitting on Jodi’s lap, the way she folded her hands in prayer at the table, and Jodi’s long walk with Maryanna—Jodi touched Karen’s gold bracelet. “I wish I could talk to you . . .” she whispered.

  She had been struck by how cohesive Maryanna’s family was, even without her husband, and the sweet way young Sarah’s siblings had shown their delight at having her home, snatched from the worrisome unknown. In that moment, everything crashed down around Jodi—her sister’s death, her job loss, Trent’s going to Japan, and the prospect of starting at square one again with her teaching career.

  Jodi refused to dwell on the earlier call from her principal, though, and gave herself a stern talking-to. Just like after a car accident, it was important to get back into the car and drive.

  So she took time now to update her resume and began the process of submitting it online, deciding to focus on the few openings in Vermont, since she was already licensed there. But at the last minute, she also included school districts in New Hampshire and Connecticut. It didn’t make sense to look for a teaching position too far from Trent’s secure job in Bennington, after all. Yet if she landed a job this late in the summer, there’d be hoops to jump through to get recertified elsewhere. Still, she wasn’t giving up on Vermont, not when she and Trent planned to make Bennington their home once they were married.

  If we can see eye to eye!

  Later, while making a turkey, tomato, and lettuce sandwich for supper, she received a text from Trent. I talked to your dad—he wants you to take an unexpected opening at his school.

  She found it surprising that Trent had already communicated with her father about her dilemma. Were they really that much in touch long-distance?

  “Thought you were packing for Japan,” she whispered, carrying a paper plate with her sandwich to the fridge for a can of juice and a bunch of grapes. Then, closing the door, she eyed the patio through the kitchen window, but it was still too hot to sit out there.

  Her dad’s eagerness to help and Mom’s phone call that morning closed in around her like walls. Sitting at the breakfast nook, she sighed. So much to consider . . .

  She opened the juice and had a clear vision of Maryanna Esh pouring iced tea. Never heard of meadow tea before today. After getting to know the woman better, Jodi actually felt drawn to her, despite Maryanna’s admitted aversion to English folk.

  Why, when we have nothing in common?

  Then Jodi thought of Sarah.

  Well, almost nothing . . .

  ———

  When Jodi didn’t answer Trent’s text right away, he called. “Want to Skype, honey?” he asked. “We’ll make it quick.”

  “Tomorrow, okay? I’m really tired,” she begged off and guessed by his pleading that he wanted to offer more ideas for her job search. Knowing him, he had been online scouting out every school district in the tristate area. Always helpful Trent.

  “You’ve ruined me,” he replied. “I love seeing your pretty face, Jodi.”

  “Details, details.” She laughed.

  He told her how nice he thought it was of her dad to make an offer. “He has an opening for a third-grade teacher at his school—a perfect fit, really. What do you say?”

  “I’d rather have my tonsils ripped out.”

  “That’s what I love about you, Jodi . . . you’re so subtle.”

  She cracked a smile. “I’m wiped out, is what I am.”

  “Are you okay . . . I mean—”

  “Other than getting the boot from my job?”

  “You sound pretty frustrated, hon.”

  “It’s been a rough day.”

  “You were going to jog. Did you?”

  “Yes.” Then she told him about finding the little Amish girl and tracking down her family. “Though in all fairness, I had some help locating Hickory Hollow.” She mentioned Scott’s input. “But from there it was Sarah herself who guided me to her farmhouse.”

  “Remarkable.” He seemed all too interested in the abandoned child, so Jodi toned down the part about being fond of Sarah and her mother and played up Amish farm life and the humble, sweet behavior and innocent playfulness of the other children she’d met. “For such secluded people, they were surprisingly friendly. Sarah’s mother even invited me back.”

  He asked if she had any idea how the child wandered away.

  “Fell out of the back of her family’s buggy, evidently.”

  “Something you don’t hear every day.” He paused. “I’ve read that Amish families have an average of seven or eight children.”

  Please don’t get any ideas!

  “Sarah’s mom has two boys and two girls. She’s a young widow—possibly close to Karen’s age. . . .”

  “Sounds like you got well acquainted.”

  “It was fascinating.” Jodi remembered her manners and asked about his day. “So are you settled on what you’re taking overseas?”

  “All decided, yes.” Trent talked of his upcoming preparations for his trip to Japan in seven days. The JET program required participants to arrive by the twenty-ninth of July, but Trent was an overplanner and not one to leave any detail to chance. A good thing, Jodi thought as they talked about his hopes to sell his car before he left for the year.

  “Really, your old beater?”

  He laughed infectiously. “It’s not worth much, and since I’m leaving my apartment there’s no place to keep it.”

  She understood. Still, all of this was starting to sound so permanent. “You sure you’re coming back home after Japan?”

  “Let wild horses try to drag me away from you!”

  She smiled, sufficiently reassured. “And you’re still cool with me planning the wedding?”

  “What guy wouldn’t be?”

  “Okay, I’m holding you to it.”

  “And I wish I were there right now, holding you in my arms.”

  She smiled. “You’re such a dreamer.”

  “Well, get used to it, because I plan to be annoyingly romantic for the rest of your life.”

  She liked the sound of that.

  “Yes, married life is going to be good . . . and we’ll look to God for our help and direction,” he added. “Don’t forget that I’m praying for you.”

  She left the comment alone.

  “Well, great talking to you, honey. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “Have a good night,” she said.

  “I love you, Jodi soon-to-be Norton.”

  “Love you, too.”

  They said good-bye and hung up. But instead of feeling encouraged, Jodi felt inadequate. Trent’s confident voice in her ears hadn’t helped.

  Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the last time Trent’s exuberance hadn’t lifted her spirits.

  She heard a meow and opened her eyes to see the cat headed this way. “I could use some company,” she said, delighted when Gigi padded over and leaped onto her lap. “Aren’t you sweet?”

  The cat peered up at her and then began licking her front paws.

  “Oh, now, that’s lovely. You’re taking a bath in my lap.” She laughed softly, remembering how Sarah had sat on the living room floor with Gigi, seemingly content in the midst of missing her mother and longing for home. Such a trusting little girl.

  Is that what Jesus meant when He said to come as a child? No qualms, no cares?

  “Trent’s praying about my next job,” she informed the cat. “I suppose I should feel hopeful.”

  And with that, she turned off her phone, needing to be alone with her thoughts for the rest of the evening.

  Chapter 21

  Midmorning the next day, Maryanna couldn’t help noticing attractive Ida Fisher over talking to Joshua Peachey out by his mailbox on Hickory Lane. She was surprised at this obvious overture by the young widow and felt a strange prick of annoyance. Surely not jealousy, she thought, dismissing it.

  Barefoot Ida was carrying a small wicker basket, possibly coming from visiting her parents up the r
oad. Nonetheless, she had stopped at Joshua’s mailbox around the time Maryanna wandered out to her own. And there was Joshua getting his mail, too.

  How odd, thought Maryanna as she pulled out a few letters and some bills.

  Glancing back at Ida and Joshua, she realized they were waving at her now. Joshua had removed his straw hat, just like yesterday when Maryanna had scurried over there.

  Maryanna waved back, and it struck her that Ida was wearing her best blue dress and matching cape apron, and on a Saturday yet. Maryanna pondered the situation as she walked back to the house with the mail.

  Has Ida come out of her shell?

  Brushing aside her curiosity, Maryanna went through her letters and noticed one from her cousin Fay Mast, who’d gone to visit cousins in Westcliffe, Colorado, last week with her husband and several other Amish couples. Maryanna couldn’t imagine traveling so far herself.

  When she finished reading the letter, Maryanna wondered momentarily if Ida and Joshua were still talking together, but she didn’t go to the front room window to look out. She could easily imagine lovely Ida marrying again and settling into Joshua’s farmhouse.

  She’s ideal, mused Maryanna, considering she has no children.

  After Jodi’s short but invigorating run that morning, she turned on her phone and discovered, much to her dismay, three voicemail messages from her parents. I don’t want to be rude. But I can’t accept my father’s offer, kind as it is, she decided.

  Uppermost in her mind was returning to Hickory Hollow today, once she showered and dressed. Unfortunately, she’d brought along only one skirt, and after being around Maryanna Esh and her family, she didn’t feel it was appropriate to wear shorts or even capris to visit there. So she looked on Paige’s side of the closet for a long skirt or flowing dress and found several options. Quickly, she texted her cousin’s wife and asked if she’d mind loaning her a skirt for the day. I’ll take care of it, she promised. And Paige wrote back immediately to agree.