He sighed. “I’m afraid so. Was it wimpy?”
“I’ll make do.” She stepped away and crossed her arms. She lifted her chin in determination for whatever lay ahead. Her gaze drifted to the garden, and sudden amusement bubbled up in her throat. “Bless Mom, that’s the puniest pumpkin patch she’s ever had.”
Micah looked at the scrawny pumpkins and laughed.
CHAPTER 39
On Monday Micah trimmed Susanna’s trees. When he first got started, she’d pulled her drapes closed, but just before he’d left, she stuck her head out the door and yelled, “You’re doing nothing but making a big mess!”
On Tuesday Susanna’s car was gone all day. He borrowed Leon’s flatbed trailer and hauled off the trimmings and trash. Leon stocked him up with painting equipment to do the professor’s porch.
On Wednesday morning Micah stayed home, drew the curtain and fasted and prayed. It wasn’t any ordinary prayer but a struggle of sprit and flesh, for his flesh wanted to forget about Susanna, to give in and make a home for Megan here in Plain City. Late afternoon, he’d made his peace again and rose from his meditations.
On Thursday he went to the church, heartened by Barbara’s kind face.
“Morning, Micah. Coffee’s ready. And the professor already stopped in on his way to work. He said to tell you that Saturday does suit, after all, for painting his porch.”
“Good. I want to do that before I go.”
“Nonsense. I already told you you’re not going anyplace. And don’t be moping around and slacking off keeping up that cottage. I don’t want a mess on my hands when I move in.”
“Barbara, I thought I knew what God wanted me to do, but now I think I heard Him wrong.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Moping. I heard you say it right over your own pulpit: ‘Faith is unseen, but not unfelt.’ ”
He hadn’t told anyone but Megan what he was doing at Susanna’s. Or even that his decision hinged on her change of heart. He wasn’t seeing any evidence of a changed heart, and now his feelings were becoming wishy-washy, too. But Barbara’s faith remained intact; the woman wouldn’t be deterred.
On Friday Micah unpacked his gardening tools and let himself through a creaky gate into Susanna’s backyard. A flagstone walkway went from the house to a weedy, vacated garden patch. He’d noticed the grass was trodden down where Susanna veered from the flagstone to the clothesline. He’d start by clearing the walkway for her.
He sat on his haunches and moved along the flagstone, pulling weeds from the cracks and opening up the footpath. After twenty minutes, he removed his jacket and got his hoe. He headed for the worst neglected area, the garden patch.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Micah flinched. Bracing himself, he turned with a smile. “I’m back to finish what I started.”
Susanna straightened her back and marched up to him. She was a beautiful woman, all ruffled and fierce. “You got the vote. Why are you still here?”
“I wasn’t after a winning vote. I was after the congregation’s love and support. But for some reason, you have hated me from the start. So I failed.”
Susanna clenched her jaw, shifting her brown gaze away.
“I can still turn down the church’s offer, you know.”
Surprise lit her eyes. “Will you?”
“That depends on you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not worried about the damage you could do to my character or even my failure. But God never fails. So I have to obey Him. And He’s telling me that I need to put my choice in your hands.”
“What?” She eyed him skeptically. “Then I guess you’d better pack your bags.”
“God cares more about you, Susanna, than He does about me getting the job. He sees your pain. He sent me here to give you a message. He loves you.”
She lifted her chin, but her words came out shaky. “Don’t make this about me.”
Micah wet his lips, searched for the right words. It was another defining moment, even more important than the last, because this one defined a woman’s soul.
“He wants you to love Him back.”
Susanna flinched. Confusion clouded her eyes. She lowered her gaze, and it was the first time Micah had observed real weakness in the woman. Hesitant, yet feeling God’s urging, Micah touched her arm. “God loves you.”
Susanna looked at him. “Why?”
“Why wouldn’t He?” Miraculously, her defenses shattered, and she gulped back sobs. Tentatively, Micah patted her back. There in front of the forsaken garden, God’s love infused the autumn sunshine and warmed them, as Micah ministered to the woman’s broken spirit.
When she could speak, she flattened her palms against Micah’s chest and pushed him away. “I gave up on God a long time ago.”
“But you still came to church?”
“It’s all I know. It’s where my friends are.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t realize you were hurting. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“You know how to wear a woman down.” She strode to a wooden bench near the garden. “Aren’t you coming?”
Biting back a grin, Micah joined her. They sat in silence, both their gazes fixed on the tangled mass of past gardens. Then she began to talk. “When I married Charles, I had hopes of love. But he never loved me. My entire marriage, I felt like I was trapped inside a cage. But there was nothing I could do. The only people who ever loved me were my boys. But they moved away.” She sniffed. “My bitterness drove them away.”
It became clear that Susanna had been starved for affection and used her gossip to win a following. With a heart hardened toward God, it had been an effective tool. But it hadn’t brought her love or acceptance. She was a lonely woman.
“Did God really send you here? You didn’t just come because you’re some perfectionist and you have to win my favor?”
“Only God’s love enabled me to come here today.”
“And it’s up to me if you take the job?”
“Yes. I’ll go away if that’s what you want.”
“No. I want you to stay. You’re the only man who’s ever been kind to me.”
“Thanks, Susanna. You really need me. Your yard’s a mess.”
“Like me.”
“Can I pray for you?”
She nodded, and holding her hand, Micah prayed for God’s forgiveness and grace in her life. When they were finished, she stood and straightened her skirt. “You’ve got to quit going around hugging women and holding their hands. You do know that, don’t you?”
Getting a glimpse of her inner loveliness and a long-suppressed sense of humor, Micah replied, “I’m making you an exception, along with my Megan.”
Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something, but clamped it shut again. She shook her head. “It’s going to be hard to break my old habits.”
“You have the rest of your life for that. God doesn’t expect perfection.” He’d do well to remember that, himself.
“Well then,” she said, swiping her hand across her face. “I’ll go inside and get you some apple cider. Would you like that, Brother Zimmerman?”
“Why don’t you call me Micah?”
“Brother Micah,” she said, turning and hurrying toward the house.
Micah stooped and retrieved his hoe then looked toward heaven with a broad grin. “Thank You, Lord.” He looked at the tangled mess of Susanna’s garden and rolled up his sleeves. He couldn’t wait to give Megan the news. And he knew just how he’d do it.
CHAPTER 40
Megan peered into the back of Micah’s Honda Civic. “How did you cram all this stuff in here?”
He put his arm around her waist and shifted her to the side. “I have all kinds of talents you haven’t discovered yet.”
She eyed him skeptically. Ever since Friday night supper, he’d been acting like the cat that swallowed the bird. She could only hope that was a good thing, but she knew better than to press him. The stubborn man had the patience of Job
, and he would do things in his timing. When he’d invited her to help him paint Noah Maust’s porch, his chest had puffed out as though it was the best second date anybody had ever proposed to their girl. She didn’t mind, really. He was probably just trying to give her a taste of what life with him would entail. He might even be testing her. She’d prove her mettle. Wouldn’t let doubt color the decision that still loomed over them. The one he had to make before Sunday morning service tomorrow.
“Hold this?” He handed her a bag bulging with rollers, trays, and tape.
“Want me to take it up on the porch?”
He looked her in the eyes. “No, I don’t.” He glanced at the porch and back. “You can set it at the bottom of the steps, though.”
She shrugged a brow and went to do his bidding. When she turned, he was standing directly behind her. He dropped a five-gallon can of paint at her feet like a caveman peace offering.
“What’s up with you?”
The mischievous glint that shot in his eyes made her gasp and back up a step. She hit the railing.
He advanced a step and closed the distance between them. “I just wanted to make it special.” His gaze never leaving hers, she felt his hands grip her waist and pull her close.
“Micah!” Without warning, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. She squirmed. “What are you doing? In plain sight of the entire neighborhood.” Had he finally reached his limit and gone from discreet to throwing all caution to the wind? Of course she had no idea what he was capable of, so early into their relationship. Oh! He was carrying her up the steps and nuzzling her neck, and she found it hard to remember why she had tried to prevent him.
“I’m carrying you up over the threshold, sweet. Consider it a promise of things to come. No matter what happens, all right?”
His charming gesture and use of a pet name quieted her resistance. At the top of the porch, she decided to show him her mettle and swung her arms around his neck, pulling his face down. But he kept the kiss brief and set her suddenly, unexpectedly on her feet. She looked up at him with surprise.
He grinned. “Wondered how long it would take before I swept you off your feet. I thought it might happen that day the tornado came through. I’d hoped. But you got away from me. I guess it’s taken about three-and-a-half years. I just want you to know that I never quit trying.”
She clutched the front of his shirt. “Well, you missed a good chance that night in the corn maze. For a while, I thought you might get away.”
Looking down at her, he said, “That night, I told you I wanted to take it slow. That I wanted to enjoy dating you.”
She relaxed her grip. “I remember.”
“But I’m giving you permission to try and change my mind. You might even find it easy to do since we won’t be having a long-distance relationship.”
Megan squealed. “You’re staying? Oh, glory be.”
“I’m staying, but I need you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“Give me enough time to shower you with my love. I want to do it in a million different ways before I pop the question.”
“Write me a love letter, Micah. My aunt Louise gave me my great-grandparents’ love letters. My great-grandpa told my great-grandma that the poet Charles Morgan understood love. He said: ‘There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved. It is God’s finger on man’s shoulder.’ ”
Winter came. The bean patch and Brother Troyer’s grave lay buried in snow. The folks at Big Darby Conservative Mennonite were adjusting to change. Bishop Heinlein came to fill in while Micah went back to Pennsylvania to wrap up some loose ends. Megan missed him but kept busy with her wedding plans.
She swept through the living room to check the mail for the Butterick patterns she’d ordered and came to a halt. Back stepping, she retraced her steps to her mom’s small, round side table. A smile tugged her lips as she lifted the frame that hadn’t been there earlier. It was the photograph of Mom’s birth parents, and beside it was the small worn Bible. A Christmas miracle!
Snow swirled magically through the picture window, and Megan drew her coat up tight against her before she stepped outside. Everything was pure and beautiful, reminding her of that Christmas Eve when Lil and Katy had come over to exchange gifts for their hope chests. At the time, none of them even had a boyfriend. So much had changed since then. She’d been a bridesmaid twice over. And soon Katy and Lil would do the honor for her.
Her boots tapped down the steps and trudged through the yard to the road. She brushed the snow off the mailbox with her sleeve and pulled the latch. She bent to peer inside. No patterns. But a small parcel rested on top of some envelopes. From Aunt Louise! Excited, she gathered the rest of the mail and started back to the porch.
The cottage light caught her eye. Barbara waved from its window. She waved back and hurried up the porch steps to the swing. She quickly brushed off the seat with her gloves and sank into its comfort. Placing the bulk of the mail at her side, she tore open the wrappings.
She swept away the tissue paper. It was a Christmas ornament. A smile of delight spread over her face. A bride with wings. A wedding angel. She’d never seen anything like it. She remembered how excited Louise was that Megan planned to carry her great-grandmother’s handkerchief the day of her wedding. Her something blue.
Sometimes she thought the day would never come. How she missed Micah. He’d only been gone for two weeks, but it seemed like an eternity. He’d already moved into the parsonage. February would be here before she knew it, and there was plenty to do. She swooped up the mail to go back inside and show her mom the bride-angel, when she saw it. A letter from Micah.
To her heart’s joyous leap, she sank back into the swing. She drew out a sheet of gray stationery and read:
Dearest Meg,
I was able to spend a few days at my brother’s and invite him personally to our wedding. He says they wouldn’t miss it for the world, and they’re anxious to meet you. I visited your aunt Louise. She says the twenty-five miles between Allentown and Reading is not a problem. She’s excited about renting out my house whenever she’s not traveling. Says to look for a package from her.
I miss you. It’s barren and cold without you. I’ve thought a lot about the love letter you requested that day we painted the professor’s porch. I’ve written at least a dozen since then but was never satisfied with any of them. They’re inadequate to express my feelings. I can’t compete with your great-grandfather. But if you want them, when I return, I’ll give you the entire stack. Maybe they’ll tide you over till our wedding night.
Megan felt her face heat, but read on:
In the meantime, some scripture from Song of Songs 4:9–11 is the best this preacher can do to keep you warm until my return: “Thou has ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices. Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb; honey and milk are under thy tongue.”
Megan clutched the letter and fanned her face, while all around her snow swirled. Aye, yi, yi!
MEGAN’S JOURNAL
January
Tina and Randy are snug as two bugs in a Cessna, but working from the cubicle next to Paige is driving me bananas. She hums annoyingly, curses every time she breaks a fingernail, and gives me all the cold calls. She wants to spend every spare moment revising my wedding plans. But I guess I’ll make do since the demotion came with a significant pay raise.
February
Aunt Louise sent us to San Diego, California, for our honeymoon. I’m madly in love, and Micah’s obsessed with carrying me over anything that vaguely resembles a threshold. I found out that he’s a hopeless romantic. Not that I’m complaining. One night we took a quilt to the beach to prove Ralph Waldo Emerson’s theory: “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” It’s true.
Ma
rch
Joy Ann Beitzel went with Ruthie Ropp to her cousin’s wedding in Lancaster County. They had some car trouble and stayed longer than they originally intended. But when they returned, Joy Ann informed me that she’s now in a long-distance relationship with the man of her dreams. Maybe now she’ll finally get over the crush she’s had on my husband.
April
Micah and I are miserable with spring allergies. As much as we love the parsonage gardens, we had to suck up our pride because Barbara initiated a workday for us. It was the day that I found out Lil’s pregnant. She did the garbanzo dance. Calls the baby her little bean.
May
Went to a garage sale with Mom and found a wonderful bookcase for Micah’s never-ending collection of books. Jake removed a wall between two bedrooms and set up Micah’s office to resemble the professor’s. Even put an outside door to it. Lil thinks I should demand a kitchen update to even the score, but I’m content. Every Monday night, Lori stops by to see what he’ll need for his sermon. We’ve become best of friends.
June
Gardens everywhere are in full bloom. Mom and I are having the discussions of my daydreams. Susanna’s even got a garden this year. Micah’s organized a group that helps out the widows. But he goes to Susanna’s himself as long as his allergies allow it. The four of us—Mom, Barbara, Susanna, and I—are getting together to put up Lil’s three bean salad.
July
One of Dad’s Nova clients begged him to drive his Nova in the Plain City Fourth of July Parade. At first Dad refused, but Micah talked him into it. We watched the parade from the professor’s porch.
August
It was the annual Big Darby picnic and softball game. Have I mentioned how stubborn Micah can be? He kept his white shirt/blue shirt teams. His team forgave him when he hit another home run. Now he’ll have to come up with something to appease the rest of the men.
Joy Ann’s boyfriend helped with the children’s relays. Susanna was proud of her new quilted table coverings, and Inez admitted they were way better than rocks. There wasn’t any rain this year, but Micah stole with me into Leon’s barn for a few moments of reminiscing. Only this time, there were no regrets.
Plain City Bridesmaids Page 95