He was in no hurry to put the soap on the open wounds, but he knew she was right to want his hands clean. “I was going to go wash upstairs.”
“And I’m sure you still will. But now we can talk, too.” As Grandma Francis guided his hands under the faucet, she squirted some soap on her hands, then gently rubbed his own.
Just as if he was still a child.
He closed his eyes, letting her smooth fingers remove the grime from his palms. As always, his grandmother’s touch was gentle and strong. So much like the woman herself.
“Walker, are you positive this life is what you want?”
“I’m positive that I want Lydia in my life.”
She turned off the faucet and folded his hands into a fluffy kitchen towel. “I know you love her. But I fear you might be taking on more than you are ready for.”
“I’ll get the hang of farming, Grandma. My skin just needs to get a little tougher.” Okay, a lot tougher.
“I’m not just talking about farming.”
“I went to church with you yesterday at the Yoders.”
She opened up the towel and inspected one of his hands with a frown. “I know,” she said. She then examined his other hand, tsking over the torn skin.
“Did I do something wrong at the service?”
“Not at all. I’m not judging you, Walker. I am merely asking questions.”
“Lydia said I did all right. And I kind of enjoyed being there. Even though, you know, I hardly understood a word of it.”
Her lips twitched. “You wouldn’t be the first man to think the three-hour service felt long, Walker.” Wryly, she added, “Some might even say understanding all the words don’t help. It’s still a long sit.”
“But being there, it also felt right. I was peaceful, sitting there. Watching other men and women deep in their faith. It made me want to deepen my faith, too. And that is for me, Grandma. It has nothing to do with Lydia.”
“That is a relief to hear.” Going back to the faucet, she filled a glass with cool well water, then handed it to him. “Drink,” she ordered. While he did, she asked, “Have you talked to your father about all this?”
“A little.” When the glass was empty, he set it on the counter.
“And?”
“And I think he’s as confused as anybody.” He was tempted to stop talking, but then decided to reveal all that he was thinking. It seemed like the right thing to do. “I’m afraid he thinks he’s made a mistake with me.”
“How so?”
“I think my dad’s been so happy with his life, he’s wondering how I can want something that he worked so hard to get away from.”
“Hmm. Well, he’ll get over those doubts, I imagine. You are doing much the same thing as he did. Breaking away from your parents takes a lot of strength. If he isn’t proud that you’ve become your own man, he will be.”
“What about Grandpa? Does he think I’m being foolish?”
“Foolish? Not at all! He’s proud of you, Walker. As am I.”
“And you think I’ll do okay? I mean, after I learn to plow a field decently?”
“I think you’ll do just fine, Walker.” After glancing at the clock over the oven, she said, “But for now, you’d better run upstairs to the shower and get the rest of you cleaned up. I do believe you are about to have a caller.”
“What? Who?”
She pointed to a buggy and horse riding up the driveway. The buggy was black of course. But the horse was silver. “Lydia’s here.”
“Grandma, I smell like dirt.”
She chuckled. “Oh no, son. I promise, you smell much worse than that! Go shower.”
“I’ll be quick.”
“Don’t be too quick. You’re going to need a lot of soap, I fear. I’m sure Lydia and I will have a nice visit until you come back downstairs. Go on now, Walker.”
His grandmother’s advice was so good, it almost didn’t hurt to climb the stairs, two at a time.
Chapter 27
“Deborah used to follow us everywhere when we were in school. One time I asked Perry why she followed him around so much. Perry grinned and said he wasn’t the one she was following.”
JACOB SCHROCK
In her arms, Jacob must have cried for a solid fifteen minutes, his shoulders shaking with the force of his emotion. Never had Deborah felt so needed or loved.
It had taken an incredible amount of trust for him to let down his guard enough to cry in front of her. Through it all, she’d patted his back and murmured reassurances. She didn’t know if what she’d said even registered, but she’d meant every word. Together, they would get through this. She was sure of it.
Now Jacob was looking at her like he wished he was anywhere else on earth. His cheeks were red and his gaze wary. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry.”
Deborah ached to tell him that she was glad he cried. But she knew there was no way a man like him was going to take that the way she’d meant it. “It’s okay,” she said instead.
“I bet you want to leave now.”
“Why on earth would I want to leave?”
“Because I’m so weak. Crying in front of you.”
“I’ve never thought you were stronger,” she said. “It takes a strong to man to admit when he’s weak.”
“You think?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought you were stronger than right at this minute,” she said honestly. So he wouldn’t get anymore embarrassed, she said, “How about I stay and work at the store with you?”
“There’s no reason for you to do that. It’s pretty dead here.”
“Maybe there’s another reason I’d want to stay. Maybe I’m not ready to be away from you yet.”
He blinked, then slowly smiled. “You know what? You’re pretty amazing, Deborah.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I can’t think of another woman on earth who wouldn’t hate me if she were in your position.”
He was wrong, of course. What had happened to their families wasn’t their fault. Both of them were victims of their relatives’ poor judgment.
She didn’t think she was the only woman to realize that, either. Jacob was a good man. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he had a good heart, and he worked hard, and loved his family, too.
He also just happened to be handsome. To her, he’d always been the most handsome man in the world.
Afraid to tell him that, she kept things easy and light. “It just shows you that I’m a mighty special person, Jacob. It’s time you realized that.”
He looked at her, really looked at her. His gaze warm and tender. “Maybe I have. Finally.”
“What have you realized?”
“I’ve realized that you’ve been in my life for so long for a reason,” he said quietly. “I think God put us together to give each other support. I think maybe we’re meant to be together. I don’t know if anyone else in the world could understand the pain we’re both going through.”
“So what’s going to happen to us? I hope we’ll stay together.”
Pressing his lips to her brow, he smiled softly. “I hope we will.” After a moment, he said, “Who knows what will happen with the store. I can’t imagine that my mom will want to keep running it. It wouldn’t be the same without my daed, anyway. But this store is as much a part of my life as it was a part of my parents’. It’s going to be really hard to see it closed.”
“Maybe you can keep it running.”
“Me?”
“Why is that so hard to imagine? You’ve been pretty much running the store for the past few years.”
Hope shone in his eyes . . . as well as a good bit of doubt. “Do you really think anyone is even going to want to shop here again?”
“Jacob, perhaps people aren’t staying away from you because they’
re upset about what your father did. Maybe they’re trying to give you some space. I promise, things will turn around in time. They always do.”
He shrugged. “At this point, I don’t even know what to say or do. Or who to worry about.”
“Then let’s just worry about today. I think that’s enough. Let’s get through today and then we’ll worry about tomorrow tomorrow.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.”
Running his fingertips over her cheek, he looked at her in wonder. “Have I told you that I don’t deserve you?”
“I promise, you do, Jacob. If I know anything, it’s that we deserve each other.” He’d just enfolded her in his arms when the door opened and a group of four ladies walked in.
They were English tourists, obviously in town for the day.
Stepping away from her, Jacob looked like he’d never been so happy to have customers. “May I help you?”
“We just wanted to come look around. People have told us that you can’t come to Crittenden County without stopping by Schrock’s Variety. My friend Jean said this place wasn’t to be missed.”
Deborah smiled warmly. “Is that so? And where are you from?”
“St. Louis,” another replied. Stepping forward in her olive green jogging suit, she added, “I’m so glad there’s not a crowd here. Tuesday’s going to be bad, you know.”
“Why Tuesday?”
“A busload from the retirement home is coming here on Tuesday.”
“A busload? Truly?”
The woman laughed. “I wouldn’t kid about that. Your store has become a destination, young man.”
As the ladies spread out and began shopping in earnest, Deborah covered her mouth with her hands. When she could contain her laughter, she dropped her hands and smiled at Jacob. “See? Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll get through today . . .”
“And then we’ll get through Tuesday.”
“And then before you know it, we’ll look forward to another day. It’s going to be okay, Jacob,” she said quietly. “It really is.”
“I think you’re right. And I think you’d best stay here by my side, too. These ladies look like trouble,” he joked when one of them came a little closer.
“Don’t worry, Jacob. I’m not going anywhere.” After all this time, during the worst of their sorrows . . . once again, they were able to find a sliver of light.
Epilogue
“We are not put on this earth to see through one another, but to see one another through.”
LAVINA MILLER
Years ago, back when Mose had been a willful teenager, he used to walk through the Millers’ land to get to Schrock’s Variety. Taking the narrow trail through the dense woods and across the rocky fields had been the shortest route by far.
Walking through the farm had also held a tiny bit of danger: Mr. Miller didn’t care for trespassers.
And that, of course, had been one of the reasons Mose had always trespassed. Sometimes it was fun to do things he wasn’t supposed to.
Now, as he walked in the midst of a procession across a neatly mowed field, he had a curious sense of déjà vu. Even though they’d been invited to come on the property, it still felt a little bit dangerous. After all, they were all walking toward a place that many wished never existed.
“I’m kind of surprised the Millers are doing this. From what I know of them, it seems out of character,” Luke said to him as they walked along.
As he glanced at the thicket of bushes to their right, framed by dark woods, Mose nodded. “I’m surprised, too, if you want to know the truth. But it’s a fitting thing, I think. It’s always a blessing to have something good come out of the bad.”
And boy, had they had their fair share of bad episodes here.
For the last six months, it had seemed like a cloud had fallen over their area. Drug peddling had been a real problem, and suspecting that one of their own had been a dealer had been a difficult thing to deal with. And to prove.
Then there was the sense of loss and confusion that had fallen over all of them when Perry had gone missing. It wasn’t easy to admit out loud that you were happy a person was gone . . . so happy that you didn’t care what had happened to him.
But none of that guilt lit a candle to the shock waves that had reverberated through the community when Perry’s body was found in the well. Not only had the young man not been missed . . . but his body had been lying in wait among them for months. Just waiting for someone to discover.
Now, too many secrets had been revealed for even Mose to count. People’s lives had been shuffled and ruined and changed. Other folks had grown and matured and become better.
Strange, that.
“Looks like Walker Anderson has decided his future,” Luke said as he pointed out Walker and Lydia Plank walking a few feet in front of them.
“Looks like it.” Walker was dressed in a deep blue shirt, black trousers, and a straw hat. He was dressed Amish, and the clothes suited him. Beside him, his girlfriend, Lydia, was wearing a green dress the color of the meadow they were walking in. They were a handsome pair.
Of course, Walker hadn’t yet professed his faith in the church. He had at least a year of education before that. Most likely the bishop was currently walking him through his Pennsylvania Dutch and rules of the Ordnung first.
“I saw Lydia’s folks at Mary King’s the other day,” Luke said. “They’re pleased as punch about their daughter’s choice.”
“I bet. Walker’s an upstanding man. Always has been.”
Walking on the other side of Luke was Frannie Eicher. She was currently chatting with her best friend, Beth Byler. And though Luke was talking with Mose and Frannie was chatting with Beth, Mose noticed that every few minutes Luke would look Frannie’s way. Just like he was making sure she was still there.
Mose couldn’t help but notice that Frannie had made a switch in her way of dressing, too. She was now dressing Mennonite. Mose privately thought the long–sleeved flowered dress made her auburn hair look right pretty. Of course the smile she often shot Luke’s way was attractive, too.
Just to needle Luke a bit, he said, “Have you talked to Mr. Eicher recently?”
“He came over to Frannie’s for dinner two nights ago.”
“And?”
“And he still doesn’t have much to say to me.” Luke frowned. “You’d think by now he’d have warmed up at least a little bit. He’s got to realize that I’d do just about anything for Frannie. I really love her.”
Ah, love. “Don’t worry, Luke. He’ll come around. It just takes time.”
“How long, do you reckon?”
“A couple of years. Maybe a bit more,” he quipped, though he was only half joking. John Paul Eicher was a standoffish man and always had been.
Luke chuckled low. “If he talks to me before I die, I’ll consider it a good sign.”
There was one more couple Mose couldn’t help but look out for as they continued the last few yards of their journey. Pointing at Jacob and Deborah Schrock, who were walking near the very front, Mose said, “Now there’s a couple who don’t seem to have any more hurdles to overcome. They married quickly, too.” Mose had heard through the area’s gossip mill that Jacob and Deborah had asked their bishop to marry them in a quiet ceremony.
Luckily, both of their families hadn’t objected to the short courtship. Now they were living behind Schrock’s Variety. Jacob was running the store, Deborah by his side.
Luke shook his head slowly. “They are a good match, but I sure didn’t seem that one coming. At first I thought they hated each other. Even Frannie said she was taken off guard. I guess Deborah and Jacob took everyone by surprise.”
Mose almost agreed, but he thought about Deborah’s brother, Perry. For all his selfish ways, Perry had always seemed to know that Deborah a
nd Jacob were meant to be together. More than once Perry had insinuated that he knew something about the two of them that no one else did.
Perhaps Perry had seen hope shining bright in a place where the rest of them had only seen darkness.
Now that was a fitting thought, Mose reflected as they all came to stop.
Gathering in a half circle, the group of thirty stood in front of Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Behind them was the well where Perry’s body had been discovered, the rocks surrounding it where Abby Anderson had once been sitting, and the patch of ground where Jacob and Perry had fought.
Now the well had been filled with cement, securely closed for all time. A handsome plaque made of granite had been placed on the top of it. At the foot of the well were hundreds and hundreds of daffodils. Their bright yellow blooms, fluttering softly in the breeze among the bright green grasses, were beautiful.
“I’m glad you all could come out here today,” Mrs. Miller said when everyone around them quieted. “For the last few months, we have been trying to figure out what to do with this place.”
“At first, we thought we’d tear down the well and cover the rest of it up,” Mr. Miller said. “But that didn’t seem right.”
His wife continued, her proud, thoughtful expression framed by her neatly parted black hair under a newly pressed white kapp. “We thought we ought to do something to remember this place. To honor it, not just attempt to forget about it.”
She cleared her throat. “Then I got to thinking about how God takes each of us by the hand and molds our bodies to his liking.” Looking out at the crowd, she met several peoples’ gazes and nodded slightly. “In turn, God gives each of us special people in our lives to mold us, too. So, instead of trying to forget what we lost here, we thought perhaps we could try to remember everything that’s been found.”
Mr. Miller took a step forward and raised his voice. “Here, we’ve renewed friendships, and discovered more about ourselves than we knew existed. We’ve found that we can be tougher than we thought and more compassionate than we dreamed possible. But perhaps we’ve found what’s most important . . . that each of us can grow into something beautiful from the harshest of circumstances. And bloom.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Which is why Lavina had me plant all these daffodils.”
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