by Nancy Mehl
I scooted into the area left open and tucked my legs under me so I could face her. “Sure. Anything you want to talk about, I’m here for you.”
“I know that, Gracie. The last time I had a close friend was before my mother left. Having you in my life means more than you could possibly know.”
I reached over and patted her knee. “And you’re the best friend I have in Harmony. I miss our teaching sessions. When you’re better, let’s start them again. I’ve been working on a couple of things I’d like you to look at.”
She laughed lightly. “Oh, Gracie. You really don’t need me to teach you any more about wood-block printing. The process is easy, and you’ve got a knack for it.”
I shook my head. “Well, my ‘knack’ isn’t anything close to your wonderful talent, Sarah. That’s something I’ll never learn, but I’d like to at least watch you work. I truly enjoy it.”
She pushed her long dark hair back behind her ear. “I would love to spend more time with you, too. Surely by next week the roads will be clear, and we can all get back to normal.”
“I hope so. Right now, though, I’m concerned about the weather forecast. They’re calling for temperatures around zero. Sam’s worried about his fruit trees.”
Sarah frowned. “I hadn’t heard that. But he has smudge pots, right? Hopefully that will help.”
“He has them, along with the burn barrels already in the orchards. I have no idea how they work, but yes, he intends to use them if necessary.”
“I will pray for him,” she said earnestly. And I knew she meant it.
At that moment, Sweetie came into the room carrying a tray with two bowls of oatmeal and two cups of hot chocolate topped off with big dollops of whipped cream.
“You two need somethin’ to warm you up. Oatmeal with cinnamon and sugar along with some good old hot chocolate oughta do it.”
“Sounds perfect, Sweetie,” I said. “But you didn’t need to bring us breakfast. We could have gone into the kitchen.”
“Nah,” she retorted. “It’s nice and warm in here. You two just relax in front of the fire.”
“Oh my,” Sarah said. “I love oatmeal, and you make the most wonderful cocoa, Sweetie. I could almost swear it has medicine in it. Every time I drink it, I feel stronger.”
Sweetie’s weathered face broke into a huge grin. “I ain’t never had no one compare my hot chocolate to medicine, but I guess if it makes you feel better, it’s all right with me!”
I laughed. “As long as it doesn’t taste like medicine, it’s okay with me, too.”
“Sweetie, why don’t you sit with us for a while?” Sarah urged.
“Why, thank you, honey. How ‘bout later? I got some cookin’ to do. Them boys is gonna be hungry when they get back. I wanna be prepared.”
“Can we help?” I asked.
She waved her hand at me. “You two sit and have some girl talk. I work better alone.”
“Okay, but don’t forget. You promised you’d teach us both to cook.”
“I won’t forget. If you ever intend to hook my nephew, you gotta learn to fix his favorite foods.”
I giggled. “Hook him? You make him sound like a fish.”
Sarah laughed and almost spilled her hot chocolate. A couple of drops splashed on her blanket.
“Well, men are kinda like fish sometimes. You gotta have the right bait on your hook.”
For some reason, the picture of a fish with Sam’s face wiggling at the end of a fishing line popped into my mind. I had to set my cup down so I wouldn’t suffer the same fate as Sarah. I picked up the bowl of oatmeal Sweetie had put on the table in front of me and took a bite. It was the best I’d ever tasted.
Sweetie flushed. “Now it ain’t funny at all. The way to a man’s heart is through his gullet. And that’s just the truth.”
I wanted to ask her why, if she was such an expert on men, she was still single. But I knew some about Sweetie’s difficult past and the reason she was still alone. “You’re right,” I said, straight-faced. “When can we start the lessons?”
“Let’s get past the weekend, girls. Next week we’ll start. I’ll have you two cookin’ like old pros in no time.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said with a big smile. “I can hardly wait. We’ll have so much fun.”
I wasn’t so sure learning anything from Sweetie, who could be caustic and difficult to get along with even on a good day, was really going to be “fun,” but I voiced my agreement anyway.
Sweetie left the room with a spring in her step, buoyed by the prospect of whipping Sarah and me into shape.
“Oh, Gracie. This is so exciting,” Sarah said.
“Will your father approve?”
“Yes. Papa and John have made up. I don’t believe Papa is upset anymore. Of course my silly stunt probably frightened him so much that he will spoil me for a while.” She sighed. “I’m really sorry I scared him.”
“We were all frightened. Especially your father…and John.”
Sarah stared down into her cup, her expression so sad it touched my heart. “John really does love me, you know,” she said softly. “And I love him, too.”
“I know that. And I understand why you both made the decision to break off the relationship. You’re worried about your father.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, my father. But not just my earthly father. I did it for my heavenly Father, too.”
“Because of that scripture about not being unequally yoked?”
“Yes.”
“What if John became a Christian after the two of you married?”
“There are no guarantees of that,” she said. “What if he didn’t? How could we have a good marriage if we don’t share the most important thing there is? The most important aspect of my life?”
I knew that would be her response. I agreed with her stand, but I felt sorry for them—two really good people who truly loved each other. In my mind’s eye, I could still see John lifting Sarah from the snow, although the expression on his face was something I never wanted to see again. Fear and intense love are powerful companions, but they certainly aren’t friends. I thought about the scripture that says perfect love casts out fear. The only way to have perfect love is to have the perfect One in your life. And John didn’t have Him.
“I know you’re right,” I said. “But I also know you’re both hurting. You’re trying to protect your father and obey God, and John is trying to protect you.” I sighed. “I guess I’m just one of those people who believes in happy endings.”
“But life is not a fairy tale, Gracie,” Sarah replied. “Sometimes the endings aren’t the ones we envisioned. However, if God is in them, we can find joy and blessing. He doesn’t want us to be unhappy. He wants us to have joy. Leading us away from things that will hurt us is His way of directing us to the abundant life He has for us. He’s the Good Shepherd, you know.”
“You’re a very wise woman, you know that?”
“Sometimes. When I’m not getting lost in a snowstorm.”
At first I thought she was serious, but then I noticed her mouth quiver. We both laughed at the same time. It was great to see her on the road to recovery from her ordeal, but I sensed the pain over her broken relationship with John was still strong. Hopefully she would begin to heal, but right now I felt she needed to think about something else. I started to change the subject and bring up our scheduled cooking lessons when we heard a loud sound from outside, like the roar of an engine. Sweetie heard it, too. She came hurrying out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron.
“Are they back so soon? I figgered they’d be gone most of the day.”
I got up and followed her to the front door. When Sweetie swung it open, I saw her expression instantly change. I peeked around her to see Eric standing on the porch.
“What in blue blazes do you want?” Sweetie said, her tone not the least bit welcoming.
Eric looked taken aback. “I—I came to see if everything was all right here. I went to Gracie’s, but no one was there.
”
I stepped in front of Sweetie, who stood her ground, not giving me much room to maneuver. “I’m here, Eric.” I shot Sweetie a sideways glance of disapproval. Reluctantly, she moved back. “Come on in.” I pushed the door open and Eric came inside, although hesitantly. Sweetie’s fixed glare obviously made him nervous.
“Seems that big fancy truck of yours can stay on the road when you want it to,” Sweetie said sarcastically.
His eyes widened as he looked to me for help.
“Excuse me a minute, will you, Eric?” I grabbed Sweetie’s arm and pulled her down the hall and into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” I whispered once we were out of Eric’s line of vision.
“That man almost ruined things between you and Sam,” she hissed. “He’s a snake in the grass for sure.”
“Sweetie, Eric didn’t do anything wrong. At all. Sam misread the entire situation. You know that. Why are you acting like this? You’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t trust him as far as I can pick him up and toss him.” She spoke a little too loudly for my comfort.
“You don’t trust anyone. You barely trust me.”
“Now that’s just not true, Gracie. I trust you completely.”
I grabbed her hand. “Then prove it. Eric is a very nice man. He risked coming here today through the snow just to make sure we’re all right. And you treat him like he’s an escaped criminal.” The pitch in my voice had risen close to a tone only dogs could hear. In fact, Buddy got up from his favorite spot under the table to see what was going on. Snickle followed him. Seeing them scrutinize me like I was some kind of interesting phenomenon made me want to laugh. But I needed to make sure Sweetie backed off of her unreasonable attitude, so I kept my cool.
She looked into my eyes for a moment; then she dropped her head. “Okay, Gracie. You say he’s a good guy, so I’ll believe you. I won’t pick on him no more.”
I would have asked her to apologize to Eric, but that would have been pushing my luck. I left the kitchen and hurried back to the front door.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Eric. “Sweetie gets things in her head sometimes. It’s hard to reason with her, but I think everything will be okay.”
“Man, I was worried about Sam. I had no idea I’d be facing his aunt’s wrath as well.”
I smiled at him. “Sam’s not mad at you. In fact, no one is mad at you. Come on in.”
He followed me down the hall to the living room. Sarah was gone. Her blanket had been folded and was draped over the arm of the couch.
“I heard about Rand McAllister. I can hardly believe it,” Eric said, his eyes darting toward the kitchen.
“That was fast. Who told you?”
“Dale Scheidler. He was clearing off the intersection at Faith and Main.” He shook his head slowly. “At least I know now why he wasn’t returning my calls.”
I motioned toward the couch. “Sit down. How about some coffee?”
“I’d love it. Thank you.”
“How do you take it?”
“With a little cream if you have some.”
I grinned. “You’re in Sweetie Goodrich’s house. There isn’t a food created she doesn’t have. Anyway, I’ve never found it.”
I heard him chuckle as I left the room. In the kitchen, I found Sweetie chopping vegetables with a little too much zeal. Even though she’d apologized, I could tell she was still bothered by Eric’s presence in her house.
I got a cup from the cabinet and poured coffee into it. Then I got the cream from the refrigerator and mixed it into the cup. Sweetie didn’t utter one word. It was almost worse than having her go off on a tangent. I set the cup on the counter and eyeballed her. “Sweetie, you have to trust God. If Sam and I are meant to be together, there is no man on the face of the planet who will be able to break us up. If you don’t trust me, can you at least trust Him?”
When she turned around, I was shocked to see she’d been crying. Sweetie didn’t cry very often. She usually yelled when she was upset.
“More than anything in this world, I want to see my boy happy,” she said. “I’d give everything I own for that. And I know he will have that with you.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “He’s had so much pain in his life, and I’ve done all I can to make it better. But I know what he needs now can’t come from me.” She paused for a moment and cleared her throat. “It’s time for me to become less important in his life. He needs—he needs someone to love. Someone to share his life.” She focused her gaze on me. “He needs you, Gracie. And the idea that something could go wrong—that he might be hurt again… Well, I just can’t bear to think about it.”
I took her hand. “Like I said, if Sam and I are meant to be together, it will happen. You and I both need to believe that.”
She shook her head. “But sometimes things don’t seem to work out right. What about Gabe and his wife? I bet he thought they’d be together forever, and she walked out on her husband and daughter without so much as a fare-thee-well and spit in your face.”
I was trying to figure out what a “fare-thee-well and spit in your face” was when I heard Sarah’s voice coming from behind me. “Oh no.”
I turned to find her dressed in her dark blue frock, her hair back up and covered by her matching prayer cap. Although she was beautiful no matter what she wore, I missed seeing her hair down.
“My mother wasn’t dedicated to God, Sweetie,” she said. “That’s the difference between Gracie and Mama.” She came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. There was still a shadow of weariness in her face. “She was raised in the Old Order ways, but she followed them because she had to. She married my father because he was the only boy close to her age that she liked at all.” Sarah clasped her hands together and stared at them. “You see, she never really gave her heart to the Lord—or to our faith. So when she met the man she left with, all she could see was a new and different life. In her mind, a better life.” She raised her head and smiled sweetly. “But Gracie has chosen her faith. She has chosen her God. And that is the difference. We cannot serve God because our parents do—or even because we think it is the right thing. Our commitment needs to come from our hearts—not just our minds.” A frown creased her smooth forehead. “Am I saying this clearly? Do you understand?”
Sweetie nodded. “I think I do. I was readin’ somethin’ ‘bout that the other day. Jesus asked Peter if he knew who He was, and Peter said Jesus was the Son of God. Then Jesus said somethin’ that I had to read a few times before I got it. He spoke about flesh and blood not tellin’ Peter who He was. But that his knowin’ the truth about Jesus came straight from God.” She frowned. “What Jesus said then was kinda amazin’. He said that the gates of hell couldn’t come against that. I finally figgered out He was talkin’ about the devil not bein’ able to take away what we get straight from heaven.” She looked at Sarah questioningly. “Is that what you mean?”
Sarah smiled at her. “That’s exactly what I mean. Peter knew about Jesus because God revealed it to him. Not because someone else told him. I believe we all must have that moment when we choose to believe of our own free will.” A sad countenance came over her. “My mother never made that choice. When she did finally choose, she chose the wrong thing.”
“Sarah, in all these years have you or Gabe ever heard from your mom?”
“A few years ago a letter came. I will never forget my father’s expression when he looked at the return address. He stared at it for the longest time. Then he threw it away without reading it or mentioning it again.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “He never said, but I think it might have been from my mother.”
“You never asked him?” I said.
“No. I felt it would cause him pain. And to be honest, I feel more committed to caring about the parent who stayed with me—who raised me—than the one who walked away.”
“I understand if Gabe just tossed out that letter,” Sweetie said. “I kept things from my father the last year of his life because I didn’t wa
nt him to worry. After his accident, he was so sick it was all I could do to keep him alive. Worryin’ about things he couldn’t fix…well, it just seemed wrong. Your papa didn’t want your mama to cause you any more hurt. That’s why he didn’t open that letter.”
Sarah nodded. “And I guess it isn’t just the parents who protect their children. Sometimes the children protect the parents. And they may never know it.”
Like Sarah was protecting Gabe from his fear of being alone. I had to wonder what Gabe would think if he knew the truth. “I’d better get this coffee to Eric before it gets cold,” I said. “Sarah, would you like to meet him?”
“That would be nice.”
I carried Eric’s cup into the living room. He’d probably begun to wonder what was taking so long. “Eric Beck, this is Sarah Ketterling, Gabe Ketterling’s daughter.”
Eric stood to his feet. “Nice to meet you, Miss Ketterling. I visited with your father at your store in downtown Harmony. Unfortunately, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about my project.”
Sarah nodded at him and sat down in a chair across from the couch. Eric sat down as well.
“I hope he wasn’t rude, Mr. Beck. My father is rather opinionated on most subjects.”
Eric smiled. “No, he wasn’t rude. He was just suspicious. And please, call me Eric.”
“I would be happy to, but you must call me Sarah.”
“Thank you.” Eric finally had a chance to sip his coffee. I hoped it was still hot.
“Eric, can you tell me what will happen to your project now? Now that Rand McAllister is…deceased?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m actually in a rather difficult situation. Time is ticking away on this deal, but I can’t run over and talk to Thelma right away. It wouldn’t be respectful. I’m not sure just what I’ll do.”
“Perhaps Pastor Mueller could intercede for you,” Sarah said. “I’m certain he will be spending time with Thelma and Jessica as they deal with their loss. Maybe you could speak to him, and he could broach the subject?”
Eric’s face brightened. “That’s a wonderful idea. Thank you, Sarah.”
“I tend to wonder if Thelma will be ready to move for a while,” I said to Eric. “I mean, her husband dies, and she’s going to sell her home right away? I don’t know. That might be a lot of upheaval for someone dealing with grief.”