Abram would be out in his father’s fields now, perspiring in the heat, helping his dat with the crops. And later, when he was bone-tired, he would go to his own farm, their farm, and work hours longer. Readying their new home. Hope treasured her secret engagement in her heart and prayed all would go favorably while she was away.
She was the only passenger in the van that morning, and she knew her father had paid dearly for the ride. She leaned her forehead against the window and watched the farmland streak by.
“You all right, miss?” the driver asked, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not carsick, are you?”
“Nee, sir. I’m fine.”
The ride was smooth, much smoother than the buggy, and they seemed to fly down the road. Her thoughts drifted to her new cousins. How would they be feeling having just lost their mother? Hope couldn’t imagine life without her mamm. She couldn’t imagine getting up in the morning and not seeing Mamm bustling about the kitchen—not seeing Mamm sitting, bending over her mending and quilt making—not seeing Mamm kneeling in her flower garden.
Her eyes welled with tears, and she sent up a silent prayer. Gott, please help my new cousins and forgive me for my earlier selfishness. I am ashamed of my self-seeking thoughts and actions. Thank you for the compassion and love you are giving me for my kin. Help me to be a comfort to them.
Hope folded her hands on her lap and relaxed into the seat. Speaking with God often calmed her and restored her sense of balance.
She decided right then that she would work hard to be the best cousin and caretaker she could be for both Sally and Jack. She repeated the names softly to herself. Sally and Jack. She’d never known anyone by those particular names.
Now she would.
Four
In Ohio, the bus wheezed to a stop, and Hope stirred, realizing she had been asleep for the last hour or so. She’d meant to memorize every detail of the trip to share with her two sisters and Abram. She sat up straight, embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the middle of the day. Was this how she was going to act in the Englisch world? Like a lazy girl?
Dat had told her she would be picked up by the pastor who would then drive her to meet Sally and Jake. Swallowing her trepidation, she scanned the crowd even though she had no idea what the pastor looked like.
She spotted a kindly-looking man craning his head, checking as each passenger disembarked. Their eyes met, and he smiled.
“Hope? Hope Lehman?” he called out.
Hope guessed his age to be a bit younger than her parents. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a tucked-in shirt and belt. She breathed deeply. Adjusting to Englisch clothing was the least of her worries.
He approached her with his hand extended. Hope stared at his outstretched fingers and then slipped her hand in his for a gentle shake. It felt odd to take a stranger’s hand, but she didn’t want to appear unfriendly.
“Jah, I’m Hope Lehman,” she said with a shy smile.
“I’m Pastor Rankin. Sally and Jack are waiting for you back at the house. They’re still struggling with the situation. I thought it best if you met them there.” He looked at her small suitcase. “Are the rest of your things in the storage compartment under the bus? I can get them for you.”
“The rest of my things?” Hope repeated. “Nee, this is all I have.”
His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. “Come then. You must be tired.”
He led her to an old blue truck with dents streaming down its left side. Patches of rust spotted the bottom of the passenger door.
“Looks bad, but runs like a dream,” Pastor Rankin said with a grin.
Hope climbed in, and they took off. The trip from the bus station was short. In a few minutes, Pastor Rankin pulled the clattering truck to the curb in front of a small yellow house. It was only one story, and the front was bordered by a thick row of bushes. Roses flanked both sides of the small porch, and Hope saw that they needed tending; rose hips were already forming where the blooms had faded.
Pastor Rankin turned off the engine and grabbed her suitcase from behind the seat. They got out and walked up the short sidewalk to the front door.
Hope’s heart beat wildly, and she prayed her new cousins wouldn’t hear it. Pastor Rankin leaned in front of her to open the door. Hope stepped inside the chilly entrance. She heard a soft hum and knew it was an air conditioner. She shivered and walked through to a small living room. On the couch in front of her sat Sally and Jack, both perched like tired roosters on a fence. Sally’s thin brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and she looked as if a mere breeze would blow her away. She wore heavy eye make-up, and Hope had the fleeting thought of the raccoon that used to steal Apple’s dog food.
Jack’s face was shadowed and his slumping shoulders brought pain to Hope’s heart.
“Sally, Jack, this is your cousin, Hope,” Pastor Rankin said.
Sally balanced the cell phone she’d been holding on the arm of the couch. She attempted a smile, but it appeared more like a grimace.
“Hello, Sally,” Hope said. She turned to Jack. “Hello, Jack.”
Pastor Rankin bustled over to a bookshelf and picked up a piece of paper. “I wrote down everything I thought you might want to know.” He pointed to the bottom of the page. “These are my phone numbers—my cell, my house, and the church office. You call if you need anything. Anything at all. Do you have money?”
“Dat gave me some money,” Hope said.
Pastor Rankin motioned her into the kitchen with a nod. He lowered his voice. “Your aunt didn’t have much. As I told your parents, I worked with her lawyer. Rent here is paid through August, which should give you plenty of time. Me and the missus can help you sell all the furniture. A good yard sale ought to do it, and luckily, it’s still the season for them. Priscilla did have some money in her checking account which will help with groceries and such. Sally’s name is also on the account, so you’ll have no problem getting the money.”
Pastor Rankin studied her face and lowered his voice further. “One more thing. There is no father—he deserted them years ago. Priscilla never spoke of him after he ran off, and we respected her on that. He had no family we know of. Anyway, your mother was the one listed for the kids. I shared this with your parents but wanted to be sure you knew.”
Hope’s mind spun. How was she to handle all of this?
He tilted his head, and his eyes were sad. “I’m sorry. You’re tired, and I’m overstaying. My missus accuses me of that all the time. Let’s go back to the children.”
Pastor Rankin returned to the living room and leaned down to pat Jack’s head. “These are good kids. Great kids, as a matter of fact. The missus and I loved having them. But we know it’s better to be with family. Nothing’s better than family. Oh, Hope, the missus made a casserole, and we stocked the fridge. You can heat the casserole in the micro. Shouldn’t take long.”
He looked at her cousins. “You all right, kids? You need anything else?”
Sally’s eyes were moist, but she shook her head. Jack stared at the floor.
“All right then,” Pastor Rankin said. “I’ll be off. Nice to meet you, Hope. Perhaps you’ll want to come to dinner after church this Sunday.”
Hope was so overwhelmed, all she could do was nod. With a final glance around the room, Pastor Rankin smiled and left, leaving them in what felt like a huge vacuum.
Hope cleared her throat. “Hello again.” She walked to a padded rocking chair next to the window and sat facing them. “I’m glad to meet you.”
She smoothed her dress over her knees.
“Are you going to dress like that the whole time?” Sally asked.
“Jah. They’re my clothes. And are you going to dress like that?” she asked, trying to make a joke.
Neither of them laughed. A patch of red moved up Hope’s neck.
“Ach, that wasn’t funny. I’m sorry. But mostly, I’m sorry about your mother. Truly sorry.”
The girl looked strangely familiar, but Hope couldn’t imagine why. The
n it dawned on her: Sally looked like Mamm, especially around the mouth. She had the same full lower lip and the same slight dimple on the right side. The resemblance gave Hope an eerie sensation.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Sally said. She got up and Hope followed her down a narrow hallway. Sally pushed open the last door. “This was Mom’s room. We didn’t know where else to put you even though it doesn’t seem right that you should sleep here.”
Hope glanced around the room, noting it was still full of personal belongings. Books lined a shelf above the bed. Glass figurines were scattered across the dresser. The closet door was open and clothing hung neatly above a collection of shoes paired up on the floor. Hope glanced at the bed. How could she sleep in a dead person’s bed? Then she scolded herself for having such thoughts when the girl beside her was in such obvious pain.
“It will be fine,” she said quietly. She set her suitcase on the bed and turned to Sally. “Are you hungry?”
Sally shrugged, her thin shoulders clearly outlined under her shirt.
Hope remembered how she felt when her grossmammi had passed away—like she would never be hungry again. “I’ll warm the casserole for you. Then you can eat if you want.”
She opened her suitcase and removed her apron. Tying it in place made her feel better, more comfortable. The two of them went to the kitchen and Hope removed a glass dish full of sliced potatoes, cheese, and hamburger from the refrigerator.
“Do you even know what a microwave is?” Sally asked. “You don’t have lights, right? I’ll be living in the stone age.”
Hope swallowed. “I do know what a microwave is, but why don’t you show me how to use it?” Her voice was gentle, but she took a deep breath and prayed for wisdom.
****
Hope had breakfast ready by five-thirty the next morning. She’d found eggs to scramble and sausage to fry. She’d looked for potatoes, but finding none, she settled instead on setting out some bread and butter. She’d neglected to find out when her cousins needed to catch the school bus Sally had mentioned the night before.
The house was still and so quiet, Hope felt almost spooked. She looked around for something to keep herself from being idle, but could find nothing to do. She was unsure whether she should rouse her cousins and call them in for breakfast.
A moan caught her attention, and she turned to see Sally shuffle into the kitchen wearing loose pants and an even looser shirt.
“Why are you up so early?” Sally asked.
“At home, we always have breakfast ready early. There is so much to do in the fields and the animals need tending to, and—” she stopped at the bewildered look on Sally’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m talking too much.”
Sally plopped down on one of the metal chairs around the kitchen table. “I’m half Amish,” she stated as if reporting the weather.
Hope sat across from her. “Jah, you are.”
“Mom wouldn’t talk about it.”
Hope kept silent.
“I think Mom was ashamed. I hoped that maybe when I got older, she’d tell me more. But now—” Sally’s voice caught, and she pressed her lips together.
There were paper napkins on the table and Hope offered her one. Sally grabbed it and wadded it up into her fist.
“I guess I’ll find out about it now,” she said. “Whether I like it or not.”
“Jah.”
“Jack hardly talks.” Sally looked at Hope through tears. “He used to blabber all day. It was annoying. So annoying. I hassled him about it constantly.” She took a big breath.
Hope waited, and when Sally said no more, asked, “Do you want some eggs?”
“I heard Amish kids don’t go to school.”
“We do. But only through the eighth grade.”
Sally shook her head, and her fist tightened. “So, what are Jack and I supposed to do?”
Hope reached out and put her soft hand over her cousin’s clenched one. Sally shook it off, and Hope sighed.
“There is a high school in Hollybrook. You can go there.”
It would be a chore to take them into town each day. She supposed they could ride in on bicycles, or maybe a school bus would fetch them. She wasn’t sure how the system worked.
Sally smoothed out the napkin and then blew her nose. “Jack and I got in the gifted program this summer. Mom was proud.” Again, her voice caught.
Hope wasn’t sure what a gifted program was, but she nodded.
“It’s not as great as we thought. The teacher who was supposed to be in charge went and got pregnant, and now she’s on bed rest so they put Mr. Shane in charge. He’s pretty much a whack job.”
Sally went to the stove and dished herself some eggs.
“I can get that for you,” Hope said, jumping up from the table.
“Don’t bother. I’ve got it.” Sally returned and sank into her chair. She took a couple small bites. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Jah. I’ll join you. Should we get Jack up?”
“I don’t want to move away from my friends,” Sally said and sucked in her breath. “I don’t want to live backwards with no one I even know.”
Hope’s throat ached for this girl in front of her. “I’m sorry.”
“I only insisted we stay until the program was over because I don’t want to leave. Jack is really upset. I’m not sure I’m enough for him.” Her words were edged in fear.
Hope wasn’t accustomed to someone she hardly knew bearing her heart with such raw emotion.
“You don’t have to do it alone.” Hope set her eggs aside. “You have Mamm and Dat and Ruth, and all of us. We’ll help you.”
Sally pushed her plate to the middle of the table. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the wadded-up napkin. “Can I try it on?” she asked.
“Try what on?”
“Your hat? Or your kapp, I mean. I’ve done research.”
Hope’s eyebrows rose. This girl opposite her was full of surprises. She slipped off her kapp and held it out.
Sally placed it on the top of her tousled hair. “How do I look?”
Hope thought her kapp looked strangely at home on Sally’s head, but she wasn’t sure that’s what Sally wanted to hear.
Sally took the covering off and fingered it gingerly.
“Sally, you don’t have to dress Amish when you live with us. You can wear your Englisch clothes.” Hope’s voice was soft.
Sally’s eyes welled up. “But everything else. What about everything else? I’m losing my whole life.” Her voice rose, and her cheeks grew flushed. “Sorry. I know you’re trying to be nice.”
Hope’s heart went out to this girl who was searching for a new place to belong.
Sally handed the kapp back to Hope. “I’ve wondered for a long time about everything Amish. I wondered, but I didn’t think I’d have to live it.”
She coughed and glanced at the clock on the stove. “Now it is time to get Jack up, or we’ll miss the bus.”
Five
Two weeks later, Hope stood in the middle of the living room and glanced around. Everything was tidy. She’d long ago washed the dishes and put everything away in the kitchen. The laundry was done. Dinner was partially prepared. She considered fetching the quilt pieces she’d stuck in her suitcase almost as an afterthought. She hadn’t brought enough for a full quilt, but she did bring enough to get a good start.
Restlessness filled her. Perhaps she should start packing up the house. There were some boxes in the garage. She could use them. But then, Pastor Rankin said they’d have a yard sale. And what would Sally and Jack want to bring to Indiana? She could hardly make those decisions for them, nor would they welcome her sorting through their rooms.
She walked through the kitchen and stepped outside onto a small patio. The entire yard was barely as big as their chicken coop back home. Hope took a deep breath, relishing the outside air. Inside, the air-conditioned coolness felt unnatural. She admitted that she welcomed a fan during the hottest months, but the air condit
ioning was too much. She considered turning it off that morning when Sally and Jack had left, but she’d done that once before and Sally hadn’t liked it.
A robin landed in the dirt near a small clump of daisies and set about poking for worms. Hope smiled and a pang of yearning for home swirled through her heart.
Abram, she whispered, what are you doing right now? Are your morning chores finished? How is the house coming? I miss you. I miss you dearly.
She pulled his letter from the waistband of her apron and read it for the hundredth time. She was pleased that he’d written so soon. It hadn’t taken long for his letter to arrive. Of course, she’d written back immediately, and Sally had given her a stamp and shown her how to balance the letter half-in and half-out of the mail slot in the door. The postman had whisked it away that very afternoon.
Hope closed her eyes and fought the homesickness. Dear Gott, give me a grateful heart. Give me contentment. I miss my family so much. I miss Abram so much. Help me to be what my cousins need, and help me to do my service here in a way that pleases you.
Hope tried with all her heart to mean it. She felt compassion and even a growing love for her cousins, but she couldn’t erase the desire for her time there to be over.
Her stay had been going fairly well. Sally seemed resigned to the massive changes in her life. Hope worried that an explosion might be building, but she had no idea how to help Sally beyond loving her and praying for her. And pray she did. Morning, noon, and night. Sally did appear relieved to confide in Hope, and day by day, they were growing closer. But still, Hope couldn’t stifle the fear that too much was brewing deep inside Sally—a place where neither she nor Sally could find it.
Jack remained sullen. His pained face grew darker every day. He hardly spoke, and Hope worried about him constantly. She tried to break through his walls, but had no real success.
Hope turned and went back into the house just in time to hear the squeak of the mail slot. She hurried across the room, hoping against hope there would be another letter from Abram. She bent to pick up the mail and saw Mary’s script on an envelope.
Amish Romance BOXED SET: Amish Days: Hope's Story Page 5