Scholars? Jodi mentally tried on the word for size. She’d occasionally heard older teachers refer to students as pupils before, but never scholars.
“It’s nice of Maryanna Esh to permit you to review with ’em a bit. She’s not known for leniency.” Rosaleen smiled at her. “’Cept with Sarah, that is.”
Jodi realized then how very unusual that morning had been, and she felt almost flattered.
“Bertie sure likes you,” added Barbara. “I was over at Mollie’s to drop off a box of canning jars, and Bertie couldn’t stop talking ’bout Sarah’s English friend.”
“I’m fond of Bertie, too,” Jodie replied.
“Seems everyone in Hickory Hollow knows ’bout you,” Rosaleen said. “Even Ella Mae.”
Barbara was quick to interject. “Jah, the Wise Woman wants to meet you.”
“Meet me?” Jodi remembered Maryanna pointing out the small house yesterday, when they’d gone walking.
“No worries,” Barbara said. “She’s not at all intimidating.”
“I haven’t met anyone in Hickory Hollow who isn’t super nice,” Jodi said, matching her pace with theirs.
“Oh, jah, plenty of fancy folk say that,” Barbara said, her arms close to her body.
“Most Englischers do,” Rosaleen corrected her, laughing softly.
Jodi smiled, glad for the twilight and the katydids and crickets. The day was cooling down, and the dew point didn’t feel as high, either. Moonbeams drifted down through several trees as the runners whisked past.
“You might’ve missed out on finding our little hollow if it wasn’t for Sarah Esh,” Barbara said with a glance at her.
Jodi didn’t care to show her ignorance. “I’m house-sitting for my cousin and his wife, and they’re pretty fond of Amish lore and food. So it’s possible I’d have stumbled onto your charming community eventually.”
“Well, we’re glad the Good Lord brought you along that stretch of road where Sarah was sleepin’,” Rosaleen said.
“Ach, come to think of it, maybe that’s why Maryanna was so easygoing ’bout letting you spend time with the children,” Barbara added thoughtfully.
Nevertheless, Jodi held no high hopes for future involvement with Maryanna’s family, or Mollie’s, for that matter. She was content with what had taken place and assumed the story had climaxed to a happy finish. And it was just as well, considering her massive job search ahead. Trent had even put in an appeal with his own principal in Bennington. “For anything, including a position other than classroom.” She was grateful for even a snippet of a possible lead, of course, but wasn’t counting on it.
“What’s your favorite thing to do in the fall?” Barbara asked, breaking the stillness after they’d run silently to catch their breath.
“I’m looking forward to running even more when the weather’s brisk.”
“So how often do you run now?”
Jodi laughed a little. “Let’s just say that sometimes I overtrain.”
“Sounds like you’ve got some time on your hands,” Barbara said. “House-sitting and running.”
Jodi considered that. “I usually have a little time to myself during the summer, yes . . . but right now I’m job hunting. I’m a teacher without a school.”
“Ach, sorry to hear that,” said Rosaleen, and both Amishwomen grew quiet.
Jodi fell easily into her own thoughts. She’d missed something of the slackening and quickening of the seasons this past year. Teaching, though she loved it, was all consuming. If she wasn’t actually working with students, she was preparing exciting new lesson plans. Her career was her life, especially with dear Karen gone . . . and Trent leaving the country. Except now I don’t even have my teaching, she thought ruefully.
The runners arrived in excellent time at the designated five-mile point and made a U-turn in the road to head back to complete ten miles. There was no air of competition, yet the Vella Shpringa really cut loose and ran.
When Rosaleen or Barbara slowed along the way to drink the bottled water in their fanny packs, Jodi kept her pace, drinking from her hydration pack.
Eventually, they came to the end of the run, back at the Glick farmhouse, where refreshments were served—delectable-looking whoopie pies, ice cream, water, and chocolate milk. Not exactly my usual post-run nosh . . .
“We’ll run again on Monday evening,” Rosaleen told Jodi, leaning down to catch her breath. “Nothin’ happens on the Lord’s Day, though.”
“Other than Preaching, that is,” Barbara said, twisting her upper body as she cooled down.
“I might see you Monday,” Jodi said, thanking the girls for being her running companions. “I’ll see how things go.”
“Hope you do,” Barbara said with a wave. “The half marathon’s not too far off now.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell them she’d already paid the registration fee for the half marathon in Boston. “Good night,” she called, deciding against staying to have refreshments.
“Nice meetin’ ya,” Barbara said.
“You too!”
“Gut Nacht, Jodi!” Rosaleen called.
Smiling, Jodi headed to her car. A feeling of well-being washed over her as she got in and pushed the key into the ignition.
Just as she was about to back up and drive to her cousin’s house, a text came in from Trent. I miss you, hon—would love to spend the weekend together!
I miss you, too, she wrote back. “More than you know.”
Want to chat? he asked.
I’m ready to drive back to Scott and Paige’s. I’ll talk to you when I get there, OK?
Sure. See you!
As much as she wanted to talk to him, she also dreaded it. She disliked the idea of depriving him of children. Was that fair to him? She worried they might end up coming apart at the seams even before Trent left for Japan. The thought choked her up, and Jodi struggled to see through her tears as she turned onto Route 340.
What would Karen say to do? She’d always talked everything out with her sister, but those happy years were gone. Forever.
Chapter 28
Jodi inched her car into her cousin’s garage, then parked and turned off the ignition. Ready to call it a day, she headed into the house, where she was met by Gigi, who appeared around the corner, meowing in a suspicious tone. “You don’t like being left alone, do you?” Jodi said.
She slipped to the kitchen floor and allowed the cat to wander into her lap. She felt sorry for Gigi, remembering what Maryanna Esh had said about caring for God’s creatures. The only way to repay the horse is with kindness.
“Tomorrow we’ll hang out, okay?” she told Gigi.
The cat paid no attention, and she felt silly. Do cats even understand English? Jodi laughed, enjoying the quiet house and her downtime with this beautiful feline. It was amazing how the world just fell away when a cat was purring in her lap.
Then, hearing what sounded like a knock at the front door, Jodi rose and turned on the overhead light in the living room, wondering who this could be. Looking through the peephole, she could not believe her eyes!
She unlocked the door and opened it to her smiling fiancé, who held a bunch of red roses and wore a grin to wipe away all doubts. “Trent! What are you doing here?”
He reached for her and wrapped her in his arms, pressing her close. “Hey, can’t a guy visit his girl?”
She loved the strong feel of his arms and kissed him sweetly on the lips. “What a nice surprise, honey!”
He kissed her back several times, lingering on the last kiss. Then, seeming reluctant to stop, he followed her into the house.
She took the flowers from him, lacing her fingers into his as they walked to the kitchen. “You really shouldn’t have been so surprised,” he said. “My text said I’d see you.”
“Oh, you!” They nestled close again and his lips found hers. Then reluctantly, she pulled away. “I still can’t believe you’re here!” She studied him—his light brown hair and gorgeous green eyes—
and the way he seemed to adore her.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Only if you are.”
“Well, I just ran ten miles, so I could eat, sure. You want take-out or home cooked?”
“Steak sounds good.”
She laughed and snapped her fingers. “I’ll serve it right up.”
“Seriously, I’ll eat whatever you want, honey—a sandwich would be fantastic.”
She grabbed the loaf of bread Maryanna had given her yesterday and waved it around, chuckling at his humorous moans of delight. “When was the last time you had homemade bread?”
“Whenever it was, it was too long ago!”
She went to the fridge and began pulling out mayo, lettuce, sliced turkey, and bacon. “How does a club sandwich sound?”
He grinned and folded his arms, standing back against the counter to watch her.
“I ran with a group of mostly Amish and Mennonites tonight,” she said, spreading the mayo. “It was kind of fun . . . and really different.”
“You don’t look all that tired, hon. How’d you do time-wise?”
“I didn’t bother to keep track.” She mentioned how interesting it was that no one was really into timing the run. “Maybe they get more serious closer to the actual race, I don’t know.” She filled him in on the Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon.
“Thought you were running in Boston this year—your big dream.”
“I am. And I probably can’t afford to do both. Besides, I’m hoping something comes through for me on the job front.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Have you called your dad back?”
“He called me.” She sighed. “And he gave me a week to decide if I want to accept his job offer.”
Trent studied her intently, as if he hadn’t seen her in years, and she soaked it up as she topped each sandwich with a thick slice.
“You know how Dad is.”
“I do, yes. And he’d love to have you there in New Jersey. So would your mom.”
“Because you’re going to Japan?”
He explained, with obviously measured words, that while her father wanted to look after her, he was also concerned it was too late to locate a position anywhere else, especially the classroom job she wanted. “Teaching is your passion, after all.”
“Right, but for one year I can get by with most anything. And I don’t see myself working for my dad.” She sighed. “I just don’t.”
She found the paper plates and placed the sandwiches, one on each. Then she wiped her hands on the towel.
He was actually staring at her. “Jodi, there’s something else. . . .”
Her heart clenched. Please, not this again.
“I’ve been thinking. Maybe it was God’s answer to our dilemma, you know . . . the loss of your job.”
The look on her face must have said it all.
“Just listen, honey,” he urged, reaching for her hands. “Please, Jodi, hear me out.”
She pulled away. “Trent, I—”
“I know our marriage is a ways down the road, but what if it’s best that you aren’t teaching then? Just, please, think about it, hon.”
“I love teaching, Trent. You know that.”
“And I love you. But if you’re not tied up teaching, we could—”
“What? Start a family?” She beat him to the punch line.
“I’d really like you to pray about it. Will you?”
“Is this why you came to see me?” She blinked back tears.
“Jodi . . . honey.”
She sniffled, feeling more exhausted now than during her run. “We agreed on a you-and-me kind of life. And with Karen gone . . . well, I honestly can’t bear to think of bringing a baby into the world, and . . .”
He touched her arm, but she backed away again.
She carried the plates past him to the bar and sat down. “What’s changed, Trent? Why do you want children now and not before?”
“It just seems so final to me . . . closing the door like that.” He came over and turned her around on the stool to face him. “I’ll never see your smile on our children’s faces, never—”
“Right.” She looked into his beautiful eyes. “But I haven’t changed my mind.”
“And I have.” His eyes were serious.
Her emotions were brimming over. “Do we have to talk about this now?”
“No.” Trent shook his head slowly. “But will you pray about it?”
“I haven’t done much praying lately.”
“Sweetheart . . .”
“Karen’s illness came out of nowhere. And there was no stopping it.” She bowed her head, tears threatening again. “You just never know. . . .”
“Jodi, darling.” He coaxed her off the barstool and took her in his arms. He tucked her head beneath his chin. “Honey.”
“Please, let’s just drop this talk of having children.” She didn’t want him to hold her anymore. “I’m sorry, Trent. I really am. But I’m not ready to pray about this . . . or anything else.”
She faced the bar, staring at her sandwich as she stepped away from him to slide onto the barstool.
Trent sat next to her, momentarily bowed his head, then took an enormous bite of his sandwich.
Jodi picked at her food, no longer hungry.
Chapter 29
The Lord’s Day dawned with even warmer temperatures. Thin clouds veiled the fair sunrise as Joshua single-handedly watered his beef cattle and got breakfast, too—cold cereal, juice, toast with the homemade raspberry jam left by Ida Fisher yesterday, and black coffee. A second cup of the latter made him break out in a sweat once he’d cleaned up right good for the Sunday gathering, wearing his best black broadfall trousers and white shirt and tan suspenders beneath his black summer vest.
It occurred to him to walk over and thank Maryanna Esh outright for redding up his flower bed, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. Instead, he pictured what it might be like to speak with her later today. Somehow he’d manage to greet her and the children before or after the shared meal on the back lawn. Knowing Tobias, the lad would seek out his grandfather Ezekiel before filing into the barn for church with his mother and siblings. Old Zeke was about as friendly a man as Joshua had ever known. Benuel, too, had enjoyed spending time with good-natured Zeke, who was always looking to tell a story from his boyhood. But since Benuel’s passing, Zeke’s health had gone downhill some. Maybe Zeke is someone I could befriend. Then, thinking on that, Joshua didn’t want anyone, least of all Zeke or Maryanna, to imagine he was worming his way into their lives for ulterior motives.
Joshua went around his house and porch, looking to see if things were up to snuff for today’s meeting. Satisfied, he headed upstairs to the second level of the barn to double-check the tidy stacks of Ausbund hymnals and saw to it that each row of benches was straight. He used this peaceful time to ask God to pour a divine blessing on the day, still concerned things weren’t entirely as spick-and-span as when his wife was alive.
He heard the rattle of the first horse and carriage as it came into the long driveway. Behind it were a good many teenage boys walking single file, duplicates in black trousers and vests and white long-sleeved shirts. They’d come early to tend to the road horses and lead them one by one to the stable to shelter them from the sun as the many families arrived. The same young men would fill a watering trough in the barnyard for the hot, thirsty horses and park the carriages, as well as a few spring wagons for larger families, in an orderly fashion. These young men were the hostlers, and Joshua was mighty grateful for them. He waved now to the oldest of the teens, Caleb Stoltzfus, the bishop’s strapping step-nephew. “Hullo, and Guder Mariye!”
“Gut mornin’ to you, Joshua!” Caleb called back, looking mighty schee today, his light brown hair clean and combed and his face freshly shaved.
“All set to do the Lord’s work?”
Caleb gave a quick nod. “Mighty honored to help. Denki.”
“The gratitude’s all mine.” Joshua nodded
and headed out to the road to greet the various families, including the extended Beiler family—Ella Mae Zook, the Wise Woman, smiled as the enclosed carriage made the turn into his lane. The Nate Kurtzes and Paul Hostetlers came in next, followed by the Mast and Stoltzfus families and then Benuel Esh’s siblings’ families.
But it was impossible for Joshua not to notice Maryanna Esh and her four walking this way, along the road. Maryanna’s blue dress and white apron looked crisply ironed, as did her girls’. Tobias hung back a bit with Benny, and it was obvious the two of them had been scrubbed till it hurt. Joshua tried his best not to stare, but the sight touched him to the core, and he yearned to go and say hello but held back.
Shortly, when his brothers and their families arrived, Joshua quietly engaged himself with the men in his family, walking to the barnyard to wait till the ministerial brethren showed up. It was the oddest thing, but no matter where he stood, Maryanna was in his line of vision, looking prettier than ever. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d caught his gaze, as well.
Ida Fisher arrived a few minutes later with her older brother and wife, the carriage creeping into the driveway as they waited for Caleb and the other fellows to unhitch their mare.
Seeing him, Ida nodded discreetly, her smile warm.
Joshua returned a quick nod. O Lord in heaven, I entreat you for divine guidance.
A reverential frame of mind was expected upon entering into worship with the other members. When the service began later, Joshua focused on the familiar hymns, tuning his ear as the preacher took his place before them to give the first sermon. During the first prayer, Joshua asked for wisdom in finding the right wife. A man like me needs a helpmate, O Lord God. . . . If you have put this in my heart, may your will be done.
———
Well into the second sermon, Joshua’s cat began to meow, mildly at first, then more loudly. The ruckus swelled till it was just plain shrill, and folks shifted uncomfortably and turned to look back at the house. As if being attacked by a wild dog, Honey Lou’s caterwauls escalated to the point where they became a disruption to Preacher Yoder’s fervent preaching.
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