Healing Grace (9781621362982)

by Shriver, Beth

  Esther’s touch on Abby’s arm started a rush of tears that rolled down her cheeks. Abby fumbled with the pie and lost her balance, and it went splat onto the wood floor. She bent down, grabbed the tin, and tried to wipe up the gooey mess.

  “It’s all right.” Esther’s hands touched Abby’s. “Let me.”

  Abby stood, wiping her tears, and rushed to the door. She kept walking until she found a spot by the river and sat down on the ground. As she watched the rushing water, the tension of the day began to float away with it. She hugged her knees and rested her head on them, listening to the rhythmic sounds of the never ceasing river.

  She heard something behind her but kept her eyes closed, wishing for solitude. Someone sat down next to her but said nothing. It was then she knew it was Mose. She didn’t move, feeling at peace with his presence in the comfortable silence. Fearful for what his answers might be, she didn’t ask him about what they’d discussed earlier that day. She wasn’t Amish, and he would never leave his community. There was nothing left to say.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  THE DISTANCE BETWEEN them was both physical and emotional. Mose watched Abby climb into a buggy with Becca without so much of a glance his way. What had he done for her to distance herself so? His explanation to Chris was just that—the particulars of how the Amish dealt with outsiders wanting to join their community. He didn’t make the rules; he just lived by them.

  Mose followed behind her. He knew from the sloping of her shoulders and her lack of conversation with Becca that she was fully mourning Jim’s death. Mose could only imagine the torture she was putting herself through, wondering what would have happened if she’d found him earlier. If he could talk with her, he’d tell her that and a lot of other things to help ease her pain.

  “Pay attention.” His daed called out beside him as a car went flying past them. “Watch the road, not the buggy in front of us.” His daed glanced over at him. “Everything all right?”

  “Is the railroad bridge still closed?” Mose asked to keep from answering the question, though he honestly didn’t know how much had been repaired since the storm.

  “Jah, but Highway Fifty-Nine is open.” His father looked out at the feedlots where cattle had been stranded during the flooding. There were about half the number of cows as usual, but the aroma was as strong as ever.

  As the buggies pulled up to the funeral home, bystanders stopped and watched, mainly tourists who were finding out the Amish had moved to the area. Those who lived in Beeville were used to them.

  Mose tethered the horse next to the others, all in a row. As they continued to file in, Mose was touched by how many from the community came to the ceremony, and those who couldn’t had already paid their respects to Abby. Some were too frail, others under the weather, and many of them stayed back to prepare the meal after the funeral. Each had a way of helping according to his or her talent. Mose expected this of the Amish, but they were treating Abby like one of their own.

  He and Abby joined together as they walked up to the funeral home, but neither spoke. No one did as they entered the large foyer. Mose watched her face tighten as she looked around the room. The flowers and coffin were just a few feet away. He saw her chest rise and release, and then she took slow steps to view her daed. Mose followed behind her.

  “His gray hair seems lighter.” Tears welled in Abby’s eyes as she spoke her thoughts out loud. “His cheeks are so hollow.”

  The cancer had taken its toll and consumed his body. He looked as if he’d passed away a long time ago, and in a metaphorical way, he had. “I’m sorry you have to see him like this.”

  She clasped Mose’s hand and squeezed once tightly, then let go and walked away. He didn’t follow, wanting to give her some space, but he kept a close eye on her as she spoke to those gathered. He knew her well. With every facial expression or word she said, he knew what she was thinking, and sometimes he could tell how she felt. Although people meant well, they didn’t know her dad. Some knew he was the reason why she’d come to their community, but that was all they needed or wanted to know.

  When everyone had taken a seat, Mose and Becca walked with Abby to the front row of the small chapel. Many stood in the back, but the service was short because there was no one there who knew him, except Abby and Mose. Not a single English soul had attended, but an Amish community whose only connection was his daughter was there. Mose turned slightly and studied her. She looked and acted much like any of the rest of them and seemed comfortable living with the Amish.

  He turned away. But she wasn’t. And as much as Abby meant to him, it wasn’t possible for Mose to ever leave this group of people or their way of life. It wasn’t even a consideration.

  The ceremony was short. “Amazing Grace” was sung, which Mose thought appropriate considering Jim’s doubt. The pastor gave a generic sermon, and did as well as one could, not knowing the deceased. Then they were released to the next room for refreshments, but few stayed. They went back to Meadowlark Valley to prepare the midday meal. Mose’s family was the last to leave, sitting in the foyer quiet as church mice.

  “You don’t have to stay with me, Mose.” Her voice was raw from crying, and when she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, he knew he couldn’t leave her.

  “I’ll wait.” He wouldn’t be swayed. Becca and Joe waited outside. Mose’s family left, leaving Mose and Abby alone in the funeral parlor. When he came back in, she was praying, head bent and fingers intertwined. He knew how conflicted she was about her faith, but there was a peace about her that gave him hope she was growing spiritually. If so, she might be able to deal with the loss as Gott intended. He sat down beside her and did some praying too.

  When he opened his eyes, she was smiling at him. Her features had transformed from dark to light. “Danke.”

  He chuckled at her choice of word. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

  “I have everything to thank you for. If it weren’t for you, I’d be doing this alone. And I wouldn’t have a friend like Becca or a community of people who support me.” She put her hand on his. “Thank you, Mose.”

  His eyes misted, partly because of Abby’s gratitude, but also because he wanted to share the life he had with her but didn’t see how that could happen. Even after all she’d said, there was no mention of her wanting to stay. She knew the conditions, but she had made no commitment to make it happen. He had hoped he meant enough to Abby for her to consider it, and it hurt that he was wrong.

  Mose waited out front while Abby firmed things up with the funeral home. Once she had a buyer for the farm, Abby would have some money to help her out. With all of the beaten-up buildings, tearing the place down was the best way to sell it, even before the storm. It was one less thing for Abby to deal with that took an emotional toll. Mose had wanted to talk with the funeral director with her, but she was set on taking care of the business, as well as everything else concerning her daed. “Were you able to work things out with them?”

  “The funeral costs weren’t too bad. Now I need a serious buyer for the farm to pay the medical.” She looked at the sun overhead, then back to Mose. “Do you think Joe and Becca would mind stopping at the farm one last time?”

  “I bet they’d be happy to take you, as long as I can hitch a ride. Mine left, already.”

  She grinned. “Always…” was all she said. She seemed to want to say more but forced her lips together.

  The warm sun beat down on the ten acres of land that was Abby’s home. Most of the fields had finally dried out, but the topsoil had been stripped away, creating a tough planting season. Autumn harvest was around the corner, along with “wedding season,” as Mose put it with sarcasm, despite his mamm’s disapproval. He admitted he was envious of those who joined together each year, and another year had rolled around without a significant other for him. As he looked at Abby now, he wondered how he’d mixed the signals up about the two of them.

  “It’s so bare,” Joe commented as he scanned the area. “Di
d it grow pretty gut crop?”

  Abby took a minute to answer, as if she was lost in her thoughts. “I remember it did when I was a girl, but not over the past few years. My dad pretty much gave up on everything. Looking back, I don’t know how we got along.”

  “How did you?” The question slipped out before Mose could think. If she wanted to answer the question, she would have.

  “He was a horse trader but lost his reputation after making some shady deals. But as I got older, he was gone for longer periods of time. I think he went to nearby towns where people didn’t know him and did some trading.” She kicked a clump of dirt. “Things changed after my mom died.”

  Joe and Mose looked at one another. They hadn’t had to face the same obstacles Abby had. They had a set of their own, but family wasn’t usually a great problem. The difference between them was that Amish didn’t give themselves the option of second-guessing or backing out. They stuck things out despite their differences, through whatever hardships came their way. It didn’t make them better, just made life a little easier.

  “The next family who lives here will make a gut home for themselves.” Becca smiled at Abby. “All of the gut memories you have here will live on for them.”

  Abby gave her a sad smile. “You always find the good in everything.”

  Joe scoffed. “You’re right about that.” He grinned playfully at her. “Take your time, Abby. I’m gonna take a load off and sit in the buggy.”

  “I won’t be long.” Abby was turning away as she spoke, heading for the foundation that had once been her home.

  As Mose made his way over to her, he tried to put himself in her place but couldn’t. There was nothing he could say that would make any difference in the way she must be feeling. “I’ll give you a minute.”

  “No,” she said on top of his last word. She turned backward but didn’t meet his eyes. “Stay, please.”

  He didn’t answer. Abby knew he would; all she had to do was ask. He watched her take careful steps so as not to dirty her shoes, staying clear of the puddles of mud. She walked the perimeter of the cinderblocks that were still visible and stopped where the front door used to be. Abby looked around the grounds and rested her scrutiny on Mose. Her stare was so intense, it became unnerving. It was if she was reaching down into his soul, searching for every last bit of him.

  He had to break the tension. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, walked up next to him, and thanked him before sitting in the backseat with Becca. They were quieter than usual on the drive home, but when they were almost there, Abby and Becca started up a conversation about tomorrow being wash day.

  “Becca, you know how much I’ve appreciated staying with you and your family.”

  “You’re like a sister to me, Abby. You don’t need to thank any of us. I’d miss you if you ever left.”

  Abby paused. “When school starts, I’ll need to decide if I should find a place in town.”

  Mose couldn’t see her and didn’t want to be obvious and turn around. He peered into the mirror in the side door, but he couldn’t get a good look at her. He’d known this day would come, but not this quickly.

  “You could take a little more time to heal.” He wished he could say something more profound, but his mind was whirling. This was too soon. She might think she was ready, but he would convince her she wasn’t. “And you could still help out here.”

  “Jah, I don’t want you to be alone—not yet. Not ever, if it was up to me to decide.” Becca’s voice wavered, unusual for her. Her soul was gentle as much as it was strong.

  “I can’t stay at Meadowlark Valley forever.” Abby’s mechanical voice, unemotional and dry, was much the same as when Mose had first met her, not the vibrant young woman she had become over the last weeks.

  Mose tried to contain the rage that was building in his gut. He didn’t have much of a temper, but when he did, his emotions went beyond reach. He raked his fingers through his hair once, and then again, trying to shake the reality of what Abby had just said. He forced his straw hat on his head as he stewed.

  “It will be hard to leave, though.” Her words were spotty through the anger in his head. At least she’d said that something made it a harder decision than when she’d first made her announcement. He would have liked to be the first to know.

  The minute the wheels stopped, Mose was out of the buggy. He tried to stay put but couldn’t. There was nothing she could say that would calm him down at this point, so he marched home. Thoughts flew through his head. One minute he was so angry, he tried to trick himself into thinking he didn’t care. The next second he was trying to figure out ways to talk her into staying.

  His boots hit the ground in rhythm with his breathing, in and out, until the repeating sound calmed him. He glanced behind him to make sure no one had followed him. He was in no mood to be around anyone, but that was difficult, so he made a dash for his bedroom. He was almost to the landing when his mamm stepped from her room with a basket of dirty clothes.

  “What happened to you?” She moved the basket under her arm. The crunchy sound of the wicker pierced his ears.

  He didn’t want to talk, especially with his mamm, and thought of a number of excuses not to talk, but he knew his mamm wouldn’t let him go without an answer. He took the easiest way out. “Tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “The sun’s not down, so the day’s not over.” She motioned to the basket of clothes she’d gathered to wash the next day. She read him too well, and he was not in the right mind to deflect her.

  “Let Chris do the milking. I’ll make it up to him in the morning.” He took the last step up the stairs and rounded the banister toward his room.

  “Aren’t you going to eat supper?”

  He felt like a child, going to pout in his room and ditch his chores. He let out a long breath and looked at his mamm. She set down the basket and waited.

  “Abby is leaving.” He looked down at his dirty boots. Knowing his mother’s pet peeve, he stopped his thoughts long enough to know he should have taken them off.

  “Why? Did you two have a disagreement?”

  He shook his head, wishing he wouldn’t have told her, but he knew she could see right through him, so he had no choice, and that made him angrier.

  “Then why would she leave?”

  “Wants to go back to teaching in town.” He said it quickly as if it was poison on his tongue.

  “Humph, I thought you two might get together.”

  Mose’s anger simmered as his curiosity grew. “You did?”

  “Why does it surprise you? You did everything two young people do when they’re courting.”

  When he thought back, she was right. He just hadn’t considered being with an Englisher would hold the same merit as if he were with an Amish girl. “She’s made no gesture or talk of being with me. I was dense to think she might. Abby needed help, and I gave it to her. I’ve served my purpose.” He could hear the bitterness in his voice. None of what he said came from the heart, but he kept sputtering it out all the same.

  “I’ve never seen you so passionate about anything in your life, Mose Fisher.” She half smiled, and her eyes misted. She made him want to dig deep down and let it all out, but his defenses wouldn’t drop to a level that would allow him to. The thought of being rejected was too daunting.

  “What am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Tell her how you feel. If you don’t, you’re being prideful.”

  He frowned at the accusation. “She’s English.” He threw up his hands in frustration. “And she hasn’t said anything about staying here, so that ends it.”

  “Have you made the offer?” She lifted one eyebrow in question.

  “You want me to marry an English woman?” He scoffed, confused to the point of wanting to run away like a child.

  “If I wait for you to marry an Amish girl, I may never have the pleasure of seeing more grandchildren.”

  Mose’s head snapped up to see his mamm smile and re
alized she might be right.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  ABBY HARDLY SLEPT. Not wanting to talk to anyone, she had turned in early. Becca, being Becca, seemed to understand and didn’t prompt her to discuss her decision. Abby knew she owed everyone more of an explanation. The first person she needed to talk with was Mose. It had tugged on her heartstrings to watch him storm off. She regretted not telling him alone, but she’d finally gathered the courage to tell them and wanted to get it over with. She hadn’t intended to hurt Mose so much.

  She turned over in bed and watched the sunrise, feeling the familiar calmness that she’d noticed when she first came to the community, so unlike the tense environment she had lived in for years after her mother died. When she thought about leaving, the stress came back, but she couldn’t stay and live this close to Mose and not be with him. She cared about him in a way she had never felt toward anyone before, but if he didn’t feel the same, she couldn’t bear to stay. She wondered whether it was because she was English or whether the feelings just weren’t there.

  If they were, he would have made an effort for me to stay.

  “Becca, are you awake?”

  “Jah.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Abby, I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. It will all work out.”

  “Don’t try to be strong with me, Abby. What do you really want?”

  “The people of this community, your faith, and Mose.” Abby feared she would get emotional, so she avoided Becca’s eyes. It was that simple. No matter how complicated she made it in her mind, it came down to him. Suddenly she said, “I’m going to see him.”

  “Gut, very gut.” Becca threw off her quilt and jumped out of bed. “Abby, don’t let pride separate you.” Becca was so kind in the way she rebuked others. It was gently spoken, not to hurt but to help.

  “I don’t know what to think, Becca. That’s why I’m going to see him.” She jumped out of bed and hugged her friend, more eager than ever to go to him.