She managed a lopsided grin. “Are you telling me that this surgery could leave me blind? Doctor, I’m already blind.”
“I know you’re trying to make light of the situation, but the truth is, this procedure could prevent any hope of a cure in the future. New research on uveitis could uncover a better procedure or better medication in the near future. Research is ongoing in the field.”
“I pray a cure is discovered, for I am not the only person with this disease. When do we start?”
“Today. I’m going to read you this consent. You must sign it before we can start the medications. I want you to stop me if you have any questions. I’m going to have your aunt step in now, if that’s all right? She should hear this, too.”
With her aunt at her side, Rebecca listened as the doctor described the side effects she was likely to have on the chemotherapy. Although the dosages of the drugs were much smaller than when they were used to treat cancer, she might still be affected with nausea, vomiting, headaches, body aches and more. The list went on and on. He made it clear she might endure all the side effects and still not be able to have her surgery.
Was it worth it? She was accustomed to being in the dark. For a moment she was tempted to back out, to return to her aunt’s home and live there quietly until the end of her days. Then she recalled Booker’s voice as he talked about looking down from the clouds. She would never look down from the clouds, but she would give anything to look up and see them in the sky overhead once more.
After the doctor finished, Rebecca signed her name where he indicated and tried to still her racing heart. It was finally going to happen thanks to an anonymous donor. In her heart, she knew the money had come from Booker. She would be forever in his debt.
That afternoon and forty miles away, Gideon sat in the front seat of Roseanne’s car as she turned onto a farm lane outside Berlin, Ohio. His hands grew cold as ice as his heart pounded like a runaway train. He was here. This was the exact place where his Amish life had ended. It seemed fitting that this was where his English life would end, as well.
He said, “Stop here.”
Roseanne shot him a funny look. “Don’t you want me to drive up to the house?”
“No. I want to walk.”
“It’s freezing outside.”
“I’ll be fine.”
She stopped the car and put it in Park. “Are you sure about this, Gideon?”
He knew she wasn’t asking about his hike up the lane. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he said, “I’ll be fine, Roseanne. This is what I want.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “If you ever need anything, anything, you just give me a shout.”
Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I never would’ve made it without you. Craig is going to need all the help he can get. Don’t let him do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Melody and I’ll take good care of him.”
“I know you will.” Tears stung the back of his eyes, but he blinked them away. Pushing open the door, he stepped out. From the backseat of the car he pulled a small satchel and then stepped aside. Roseanne backed the car onto the main road. She waved once then drove back the way they had come.
Gideon faced the lane leading toward a large, rambling white house. Smoke rose from two of the home’s three chimneys. Over the years, his family had added on to the original home with a second smaller house for his mother’s parents.
The addition of a Dawdi Haus, or grandfather house, was a common practice among the Amish. Grandparents and elderly relatives were able to maintain their own households when they retired and yet were surrounded and included by their extended families. It was a good way to grow old.
A large well-tended barn and outbuildings stood a few dozen yards back from house. There were horses in the corral and cattle in the pasture. This was the home Gideon hadn’t seen in ten years. From this spot nothing much had changed. Only everything had changed. He had changed.
Hefting his bag, he started walking up the road. The cold wind slipped under the collar of his coat, making him hunch his shoulders to block the breeze. The snow on the ground crunched beneath his feet, making him think of his walk with Rebecca through the snow-covered streets of Hope Springs.
She wasn’t the only reason he’d come back. Rebecca had merely been the needle on the compass pointing him to his way home. He hadn’t realized how lost he truly was until he saw her again. Perhaps someday he would tell her she had been the instrument of his return.
In Gideon’s mind, Booker no longer existed. His life in the English world was at an end. It was Booker who soared above the clouds and looked down on the backs of birds flying beneath him. It was plain Gideon Troyer walking this rural road with his feet planted firmly on the good earth God had made.
Even as Gideon faced the fact that he would never fly again, he wondered if he could do it. Could he gaze at the sky and not long to be up there? Giving up flying hurt as much as giving up an arm or a leg.
It wouldn’t be easy to come back, but it was the right thing to do.
Plain Gideon had many tasks before him. The first was to gain his family’s forgiveness. Facing his father and mother was shaping up to be a difficult thing as he approached the farmhouse. His heart started hammering. His palms grew sweaty. Admitting his mistake, making amends for the way he’d left, he had a lot to atone for. He prayed God would grant him the courage he needed this day.
When plain Gideon took his rightful place among the faithful, only then would he be free to discover if Rebecca Beachy still cared for him. If she did not, he would accept that it was God’s will.
Please, Lord, give me the wisdom to convince her we belong together.
He arrived at the front door of his childhood home with a growing sense that he had finally made the right decision. This was where he was meant to be.
When the front door opened and his father walked out, Gideon’s courage failed him. He couldn’t speak.
His father’s eyes widened in shock. “Gideon?”
Abraham Troyer had aged in the ten years that had passed. He seemed frail now. His shoulders bowed forward, as if the weight of his life was hard to carry. How much of the gray hair, how many of the worry lines on his face were due to Gideon’s selfishness?
His father took a step toward. It broke the spell holding Gideon rooted to the spot. Dropping to one knee, Gideon bowed his head, closed his eyes and spoke the words that burned in his heart. “Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.”
He heard a muffled gasp, but he was afraid to look up. What if too much time had passed? What if merely asking for forgiveness wasn’t enough? What could he do to convince his father that he was sincere?
Suddenly, he felt his father’s hands drawing him to his feet. He opened his eyes and met his father’s gaze. Tears rolled down his father’s lean, leathery cheeks.
In a voice that shook, Abraham Troyer said, “Mie, sohn, you were forgiven the very day that you left. There is only rejoicing now that you have returned. Gott has answered my prayers. Praise be to Him.”
Chapter Eight
Rebecca sat at her quilting frame stitching while Vera read to her from her siblings’ letter that had arrived in the mail that morning. Each one of Rebecca’s brothers and sisters added their pages to the letter and sent it on to the next in line so everyone could stay caught up on the family news. Rebecca, with Vera’s help, would add her updates and send it on to her oldest sister to start the process all over again. Everyone except Grace. There were never any letters from her.
“Your brother William says his family is traveling to see your brother Leroy in Indiana after Christmas. He wants to know if you’d like to go along.”
It had been four weeks since the auction and two weeks since Dr. White had started Rebecca on chemotherapy. Her surgery, scheduled for December twenty-first, was only three weeks away. By Christmas Eve she would know if her sight had been restored or not. Either way, it would be good to visit her brother. They hadn’t seen each other
for over a year.
“I look forward to going.”
“Do you mean that?”
Vera’s astonishment didn’t surprise Rebecca. Vera knew Rebecca didn’t like to travel. While her parents and siblings went often went to visit each other for extended stays, especially over Christmas, Rebecca rarely went along. She didn’t like finding her way in new places.
“William says they’ll leave the day after old Christmas.”
Old Christmas was the Feast of the Epiphany, January sixth. “I will see if Samson Carter can drive me to William’s home on that day. If he can’t, I’ll try to find another driver.”
“I heard there is a new woman in town who drives Amish folks. Her name is Miriam Kauffman. She might be able to give you a ride if Samson is booked,” Vera suggested.
“I will keep her name in mind. I can’t believe how quickly Christmas is coming. We need to start baking. What else does William say?”
“He says the community is in turmoil because Gideon Troyer has come home.”
Rebecca stabbed her finger with a needle. “Ouch!”
Her aunt asked, “What’s wrong?”
Sucking her finger to ease the sting, Rebecca used the moment to cover her shock. When she had her turbulent emotions under control, she said, “Gideon Troyer has come back? To stay?”
“That’s what William says.”
“Gideon’s family must be overjoyed.”
“I daresay they are, especially his mother. Imagine, returning to our faith after ten years in the outside world. It cannot be an easy thing. I wonder what brought him back.”
Rebecca wondered the same thing. “Why is the community in turmoil?”
“According to your brother, there are some that don’t believe he has truly repented.”
“One of those would be Bishop Stoltzfus, I reckon.” The bishop from her old community was distrustful of outsiders and ruled his flock with an iron hand, as she knew from unhappy personal experience.
“Weren’t you sweet on the boy at one time?” her aunt asked.
Rebecca bent over her sewing again. “That was years ago.”
“I remember your mother telling me the two of you were quite serious. That you might even marry.”
“She was mistaken,” Rebecca mumbled.
Gideon had come home. After all this time, it was hard to believe. What was he like now? Was he as handsome as she remembered? Was he still a bold, outspoken fellow who never took anything at face value? Unless he had changed a lot he would have a hard time reentering the Amish world.
In their youth, Gideon had often talked about leaving and about learning to fly. But after they were both baptized on the same September morning, she believed he had given up his outlandish plans.
If she had accepted his offer, would he have stayed among the faithful? For years she blamed herself for his leaving. Knowing how his parents suffered only made her feel worse.
“Then it was God’s blessing that you didn’t marry the boy. I wonder if he’ll stay this time. I reckon all we can do is pray for him.”
Gideon had been in Rebecca’s prayers since the day of his departure. Why had he returned? “What else does my brother say?”
“Will says his boy David has come down with the mumps.”
“He doesn’t say anything else about Gideon?” Rebecca heard the rustle of paper as her aunt turned the page.
“No, he doesn’t mention him again.”
Rebecca had a hard time sorting out her feelings. Gideon had come back. On one hand she was happy for him and for his family, but on the other hand she worried for them. What if he couldn’t adjust to living Amish after so many years away?
Vera finished the letter but Rebecca barely heard a word. When she went home to visit her family it was possible she might run into Gideon. What would she say? Did she want to meet him again?
A flutter of nervousness caused her hand to shake as she tried to set her next stitch. Why were men always at the center of her distress? First it had been Gideon all those years ago, then Booker, and now Gideon again.
The sound of a horse and buggy pulling up outside caused Rebecca to set her stitching aside. “Are we expecting someone?”
“When Emma came by the other day, I asked if her husband could look at our washing machine. It’s been making that funny noise again.”
Adam Troyer was a handyman in the village as well as owner of the Wadler Inn with his wife. His prices were reasonable, and there were very few things he couldn’t fix.
Rebecca asked, “Should I put on some kaffi?”
“That would be just the thing on such a cold day. Put out the peanut-butter cookies we made yesterday, too. I know for a fact that Adam likes them.”
Rising from her chair, Rebecca made her way into the kitchen. At the sink, she filled their coffeepot with water until it touched her finger inside the rim. She opened the cupboard and pulled out the coffee can. After carefully filling the percolator basket with grounds, she carried the pot to the stove and put it on the back burner. After that, she opened a second cupboard and withdrew a plate.
The sound of the front door opening and a blast of cold air announced Adam’s arrival. She said, “Wilkumm, have a seat, Adam, and the kaffi will be ready in no time. Do you take it black or with cream? I can’t remember. Aenti Vera tells me you like peanut-butter cookies. You’re in luck. I made some yesterday.”
“Danki, Rebecca.”
She moved along the counter, located the cookie jar and began piling cookies on the plate. She heard Adam clear his throat.
“I brought a helper today.”
“Did you?” She added another handful of cookies and turned around.
Adam said, “You remember my cousin Gideon, don’t you?”
“Hello, Rebecca.”
The deep-timbered voice robbed her of coherent thought and made her knees go weak. The plate slipped from her numb fingers and crashed to the floor.
The stricken look on Rebecca’s face cut Gideon to the quick. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t expecting her to cringe at the sound of his voice.
She muttered, “I’m so sorry. That was careless of me.”
Vera rushed to help her. “Don’t worry, dear, it was an old dish, and I’m sure we have more cookies. Let me get it. I don’t want you to cut your hands on the broken glass. Stay where you are and I’ll get a broom.”
Adam grabbed Gideon’s sleeve. “Let’s take a look at that washing machine. We may not deserve cookies if we can’t get it fixed.”
Gideon hated to leave Rebecca standing in the kitchen looking mortified, but Adam gave him no choice. He led the way to a small back porch where an ancient wringer washer stood on rusting legs.
Looking from the wreck to his cousin, Gideon asked, “Are you sure you can fix this thing? It looks older than the hills.”
Adam chuckled. “They made things to last back in the day.”
“By back in the day I take it you mean 1925?”
“You’ve got a thing or two to learn if you’re going to work with me. This is a Maytag model E2L from 1969. It’s one of the best wringer washers ever made.”
Adam turned on the water and began filling the machine. Gideon blew on his bare hands. Even with the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows the room was frigid. “This is a cold place to do laundry. Why don’t they put the thing inside?”
“It was good enough for our mothers and grandmothers. We see no need to move the chore indoors.”
“Is that your way of telling me I’m soft, cousin?”
“That’s my way of reminding you that you must be careful how you speak.”
Gideon adjusted the flat-topped black hat he wasn’t yet accustomed to wearing. “How long did it take you?”
“To stop reaching for the nonexistent light switch every time I went into a dark room? About six months. I try to remind myself that it’s not about electricity or cars or using buggies to get around. It’s about living apart from a world t
hat is filled with temptation and evil. Living a Plain life makes it easier to keep my mind on God and on His will. Not just every single day, but every hour of every single day.”
“Not all of the outside world is evil.”
“Nee, there is much goot in the hearts of men everywhere, but here, I find it is easier to be close to God.”
“Do you ever regret coming back?”
“Every man faces temptations, Gideon. But when I see my wife’s face each morning, I know this is where God wants me to be. If it is His will, I’ll raise my children here and pray that they find the strength to stay among the people.”
“I wish I had the strength of conviction you have.”
“If you seek it with your whole heart it will be given to you.”
When the washer tub was half full Adam turned off the water and turned on the machine. Instantly, they heard the strange noise Vera had reported.
Adam crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you thinking?”
“If this was a plane I wouldn’t even taxi down the runway in it. The gears are slipping.”
“I agree. Let’s drain her, tip her over and get this motor apart.”
Gideon flipped the switch that began to pump the water out a hose that drained to the backyard.
“When do you plan to tell her?” Adam asked as he unscrewed the cover.
“Tell who what?”
Adam shot Gideon a stern look. “When do you plan to tell Rebecca that you are Booker?”
Gideon couldn’t meet his cousin’s gaze. “Booker doesn’t exist anymore.”
“I doubt that will be the way Rebecca sees it. She believes Booker is responsible for making her surgery possible. Hand me that crescent wrench.”
“It was one of the few good things he did with his life.” Gideon laid the tool in Adam’s outstretched hand.
Adam pointed to the wrench at Gideon’s face. “You have no idea how grateful Rebecca and our entire community is for your gift.”
“And that is exactly why I don’t wish anyone to know it was me. I don’t want the community’s gratitude. I don’t want Rebecca’s gratitude. Can you understand that?” Gideon glanced toward the back door. This wasn’t about money or status or acceptance. This was about helping Rebecca.
The Christmas Quilt Page 9