The Days of Redemption

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Where she was comfortable and felt safe.

  Where she wasn’t so, so terribly hot.

  Edward moved closer to her side, nudged her a bit farther forward. Then grasped her shoulders. “Viola, I’d like you to meet our team.”

  “Hello,” she said, wishing that he would remove his heavy, hot hands. They felt like brands on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

  “This is Viola.”

  She kept a smile pasted on her face like a porcelain doll as people introduced themselves. She muttered her thanks when they pushed a plate into her hands, full of food she didn’t recognize.

  As she stared at it in wonder, Ed’s easy expression turned determined. “They made this in your honor,” he whispered. “You’ve got to eat.”

  “I have no silverware.”

  Picking up a tortilla from his plate, he scooped up some of the strange-looking meat into it and brought it to his mouth. “Like this,” he said, demonstrating easily.

  Feeling sick to her stomach, she dutifully followed his lead, knowing she was being watched the whole time. But the food was spicy and she was exhausted and shaky. Nervous about making a good impression. And still full from their lunch.

  And then, just as if she were right in the middle of an awful nightmare, her stomach began to churn and clench. In a panic, she thrust the plate at him and looked frantically for the bathroom.

  But of course there wasn’t one.

  Standing up, she covered her mouth with a hand. Looking left and right, she searched for an exit. For anywhere to go.

  “Here,” a lady said, grabbing her wrist. In no time at all, she dragged Viola out back into the scorching sun, across a dirt yard, to a dilapidated outhouse. Once there, she yanked open the door.

  Viola ran in and promptly threw up just as the door slammed behind her.

  Tears stung her eyes as she heaved, then as she tried to regain some self-control.

  And though it was dark and hot and the stench was terrible, she stayed inside. At least here she had some privacy.

  At least here she could admit to herself that she wasn’t okay.

  Slowly, tears traipsed down her cheeks, dropping to the front of her dress.

  She hated herself right at that moment. This wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be.

  Shame mixed with the heat. She’d just completely embarrassed Ed in front of everyone. She’d just been unforgivably rude and disrespectful to her hosts. Their first impression of her had been that of a flighty girl who couldn’t take the slightest bit of discomfort.

  And now she had to go out and face them all, without even being able to wash her hands or rinse out her mouth.

  There in the tiny structure, she attempted to gather her courage. She needed to go out and apologize to everyone. To make amends.

  And she was going to do that. She was. Just as soon as she was able.

  But two knocks interrupted her plans. Yet again, she was causing trouble.

  “Viola? Viola, are you all right?”

  It was Edward. And he sounded concerned, not angry.

  And, no, she wasn’t okay. But how could she tell him that?

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked out into the blinding sunlight. And tried to look anywhere but at him.

  “Did you have a nice nap?” Marie asked when Amanda walked into the front parlor of the Keim house.

  “I did. That bed was so comfortable, the moment I lay down and closed my eyes, I fell fast asleep. I didn’t mean to sleep so long, though.”

  Roman’s mother smiled kindly. “Please don’t apologize. Traveling is hard work, especially with a child in tow.”

  “I think you’re right, though Regina wasn’t any trouble,” she said, glancing around the quiet room. There were no signs of either Roman or her daughter. A mild undercurrent of panic bubbled in her stomach. “Marie, do you know where Regina is?” Hopefully, she added, “Did she fall asleep, too?”

  “Oh no. She’s been up the whole time. I believe she’s currently having hot chocolate with my husband’s parents.”

  “But she left my room with Roman.” Had Roman already passed Regina off onto someone else? If so, her timid little girl was probably feeling lost and alone.

  “Regina met my father-in-law when she was exploring the barn. Aaron invited her for hot chocolate. Aaron and Lovina live in the dawdi haus. You met Lovina in the kitchen earlier, remember?”

  “Jah. But I didn’t expect Regina to be with anyone but Roman.” Of course, as soon as she said that, Amanda realized that she couldn’t sound any less gracious.

  “I promise, Regina’s in good hands,” Marie said, not appearing to be offended in the slightest. “If she wasn’t happy, they would have brought her to Roman or you.”

  Thinking about how Marlene both enjoyed Regina’s chatty personality but sometimes yearned for frequent breaks from the girl’s exuberance, she frowned. “I hope she’s not bothering them. Regina can sometimes be a chatterbox.” That is, if she felt comfortable.

  Marie waved off her concerns. “If she is a chatterbox, I’m sure they are enjoying every minute of it. It’s been too long since we’ve had a four-year-old keeping us company. She’s a sweet child, Amanda.”

  “Danke.”

  “Now, please sit down and relax. I’m eager to get to know you.”

  Hesitantly, Amanda sat down. She was used to being in charge of Regina, and it felt odd to accept a stranger’s help. Even more peculiar was coming to terms with the fact that Regina was happy with them.

  That she didn’t need her mother there to hold her hand.

  But Amanda knew she should take the opportunity to get to know Roman’s family as well. As she settled into an easy chair by the window, she wasn’t sure what to say. She was used to people only asking about Wesley, or about being a single mother and widow.

  Marie, of course, wouldn’t be likely to ask her about Wesley. Not when she was here to see Roman. Which in some ways was a nice change.

  So, what was she now, if not just a widow? It was disheartening to not be quite sure of that answer.

  Marie gestured to a teapot wrapped in a bright green quilted tea cozy. “I brought an extra cup out in the hopes that you’d be able to share some tea with me,” she murmured, her voice as soothing as Amanda was sure the hot tea would be. “Would you care for a cup of spiced orange tea?”

  “That sounds heavenly,” she said, relaxing. “Danke.”

  “You’re welcome.” After filling two cups with fragrant tea, she added a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar to her cup. Then Marie sat back against her chair. “Before I forget to tell you, please let us know if you need to borrow some sweaters or stockings or anything. I imagine this cold weather is something of a shock to your body.”

  “It is chilly, but I think I’m all right.”

  “Gut. Gut, I’m glad. So, Roman tells me that you’re not originally from Florida.”

  “No, I’m not. I was born in Lancaster County. So, I do have a little bit of experience with winter weather.”

  “I should say you do! Well, now, that is a pretty area. Are your parents still there?”

  “They are. I moved to Florida when Wesley and I married. After he passed away, I found I wasn’t eager to leave the sunny weather behind.”

  “I can only imagine. Roman seemed to enjoy the beach tremendously, and I know my husband’s brother and his family do as well.” Marie frowned slightly, as if she’d just said something awkward, but Amanda couldn’t imagine what she’d said that was out of the ordinary.

  “I like Florida,” she murmured. Feeling a bit uneasy, she sipped her tea. “And Pinecraft is a wonderful community.”

  “I’d love to visit one day. So . . . is that where you intend to live? Always?”

  Marie’s questions were hardly subtle. But Amanda didn’t mind. “I don’t know,” she said simply. She really didn’t. Amanda was learning that life was filled with unexpected circumstances, and it did no good to make lots of
plans, at least the forever type of plans.

  “Ah,” Marie said. Obviously she was waiting for Amanda to expand on her answer.

  But what could she say? Instead of talking, she sipped her tea again.

  Luckily, before the conversation got more stilted, the door opened and Roman came in. The moment their eyes met, she felt something inside her relax. His gaze was warm and loving.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” Was she smiling as brightly as she thought she was? She felt her cheeks heat when she realized that she must look like a love-struck schoolgirl.

  “Would you like to go find Regina with me?”

  “I would like that very much.” She practically jumped to her feet. “Thank you for the tea, Marie.”

  “I enjoyed our visit.” Roman’s mother smiled as she crossed her legs and made no secret that she was pleased by her son’s new relationship.

  When they walked out the kitchen door and stepped onto the chilly path that led to the dawdi haus, Roman’s grin broadened. “So, was my mother grilling you? When I walked in, you looked like you would rather be anywhere but sitting in that room.”

  No way was she going to discuss that conversation. “Your mother couldn’t have been more gracious. I . . . uh, I think I was still waking up.”

  “Ah, yes. That must have been it.” Taking her hand, he folded both of his around it. “Are you feeling better now that you got some rest?”

  “I am. I think I just needed a nap.” Looking down at her hand in his, she once again felt a little burst of warmth flow through her. She’d missed Roman.

  Running a finger along the back of her hand, gently tracing a line of veins, he said, “Don’t worry, all right? No one has any expectations, least of all me. I want you to enjoy a few days in Ohio and for Regina to get a taste of the snow. If you two enjoy a few days off, then that’s enough for me.”

  “Truly? Because, Roman, I don’t know what I’m doing.” There, that was as honest as she’d dared to be for the last few years.

  “I’m glad you don’t know. What is happening between us is something new for me, too. I want to enjoy every second of it.”

  And then, before she could think of anything else to say, he gave her hand a gentle tug and pulled her into the dawdi haus.

  Any thoughts of quiet contemplation evaporated the moment she heard Regina’s chatter.

  “Mamm, I saw the pikk,” she called out, looking so grown-up from where she sat at the oak table she shared with Roman’s grandparents. “His name is Sam and he smells. And I petted a horse’s nose, and now I’m having hot chocolate.”

  Amanda smiled shyly at Mr. and Mrs. Keim. “It sounds like a wonderful-gut afternoon.”

  “It was wunderbaar!” Regina said. “I liked everything. I like it here, Mamm.” Her daughter’s eyes were shining, and for once, she didn’t look stressed or worried or like she was trying to be happy when she wasn’t.

  After all this time, in a place that wasn’t even home to them, it seemed Regina had become herself again.

  Right there and then, Amanda felt all her doubts about the trip to Ohio fall away. This was what she cared about; this was where her heart lay . . . with Regina.

  And having a happy daughter made everything worth it. It gave her hope, too. Hope for a future that was going to be better than she’d imagined. “I’m so glad,” she murmured.

  Roman glanced her way, making her realize that her voice was hoarser than she’d intended; thick with emotion. She shook her head slightly. “What I meant was, that if today was one of your best days ever, then I am mighty happy,” she said lightly, moving closer to pat her daughter gently on the back.

  Mrs. Keim didn’t look fooled for a moment. She was gazing at Regina steadfastly. As if she knew exactly what it was like to feel pain. “Amanda, won’t you join us for some hot chocolate?”

  She wasn’t really thirsty; she’d just had that cup of tea with Marie. But the offer was kind, and she couldn’t pass up an opportunity to sit with Regina and share the treat.

  “Danke,” she said. When Roman sat down, too, and started chatting with Regina, Amanda realized that it wasn’t just her daughter who’d had a wonderful day. Something special was happening with her, as well.

  At the moment, she was happy. Happy almost like she used to be.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Opening the door of the outhouse and stepping into the sun was one of the hardest things Viola had ever done.

  Actually, as Ed stared at her in concern, his handsome face expressing no disdain, only worry, Viola realized that she’d never been more miserable in her life.

  Well, perhaps she’d been more miserable when she’d been twelve and had been besieged by chicken pox and strep throat at the same time.

  But this certainly came in at a close second.

  “Edward, I’m so sorry,” she murmured yet again as they started walking back into the main building of the mission house. “I don’t know what happened to me.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, Viola,” he said as he waved to a few of the local children sitting under the shade of a tree. When they waved back, he smiled, then continued to lead the way across the compound.

  As she followed, Viola knew it wasn’t okay. Everything in Roman’s body language told her that he was upset with her. With the children, his smile was easy, genuine.

  But now, every time he looked at her, he looked upset.

  She didn’t blame him. Of course he had to be upset about the first impression she’d made with all his coworkers. Embarrassed about the way she’d gotten sick, practically in front of everyone.

  No, she didn’t resent his disappointment. She felt the same way. She’d reacted in the worst possible way and now it was going to take everything she had to start over on the right foot.

  If that was even possible.

  So, though she still felt queasy and lightheaded, she grabbed his hand and tried her best to infuse some life into her voice. “Edward, we could continue our tour now, if you’d like.”

  He stopped and looked down at his feet. The brim of his straw hat shielded his face from the sun . . . and effectively blocked her from seeing the expression in his eyes. “I think it would be best if we stopped the tour. At least until tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  “Viola—”

  “Ed, I promise, I do feel better.” Distressed, she pointed to one of the crudely built buildings. “Would you like to show me what those buildings are?” she asked quickly, her words practically tripping over themselves. “They look like barns to me.”

  “They are barns.” Finally, he lifted his chin. “Viola, I think it might be a good idea if I took you to your room and let you lie down for a while.”

  “But—”

  He interrupted her and started moving back toward the main building. “It’s getting late, anyway. I bet you are anxious to get some sleep.”

  “I’m not that tired.” But even to her ears, her voice sounded shrill. Like an exhausted child’s.

  “I’ve got a lot of work to do anyway, since I’ve been away all day. It would be best for both of us if you got some rest.”

  Though she knew all of this was her fault, she felt rejected. Quietly, she nodded, then let him lead the way into the main building, down a narrow hall, and back into the central gathering room.

  Unlike before, when it had been teeming with energy and excitement, it was now empty. Only the faint scents of the meal they’d prepared in her honor remained. “Um, where is everyone?”

  Ed looked around the room, then shrugged. “Oh, they, ah, decided to give us some privacy.”

  She knew she’d made a fool of herself, but for them to put away the celebration? They must have felt that she hadn’t liked them. “I really do feel horrible about this, Ed. I want to make amends.”

  “You shouldn’t feel bad, and you certainly don’t need to make amends. No one can help getting sick.”

  She hadn’t been able to hel
p herself, that was true. But she also realized that her illness had been triggered not only by the heat, but also by her nerves. She was scared to live somewhere so different from Berlin.

  But she was also just as afraid to lose Edward.

  But if she corrected him, it would only make things worse.

  After they crossed the large, empty room, he led her down another narrow hallway. Only a bare lightbulb illuminated their way. Finally, they stopped at a door. To her surprise, he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Here we are,” he said.

  She stepped inside and almost gasped. Inside was a double bed, neatly made with a pair of quilts and what looked like ironed, white sheets. Pegs lined the wall, and hanging on them were Edward’s clothes. “This is your room, isn’t it?”

  “Jah. I thought you might like to use it while you’re here. It’s clean, and will give you some privacy and quiet.”

  It was obvious that he’d very carefully cleaned what was clearly the nicest room in the mission complex.

  Seeing how much trouble he’d gone to, how much preparation he’d made for her arrival, she felt even worse.

  Oh, he must be so disappointed in her.

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “I’ll bunk with some of the other men in one of the dormitory rooms.”

  “I can’t take your room, Edward.” As she glanced around, at his shirt hanging, at the pile of notes and loose change on his chest of drawers, she was certain that every little thing was going to remind her of him. Even his scent filled the room. But then again that helped her finally feel a little more relaxed, as if she really wasn’t so far from home.

  And that new glimmer of well-being was so wonderful, she wanted to hug him close and promise that she’d never embarrass him ever again.

  But she wasn’t sure that she could promise him that.

  “Viola, this is really the only appropriate place for you to sleep.” He stepped away. “Plus, I, ah, I had imagined you’d want to see where you’d be sleeping when we married.”

  “Had imagined?”

  “Yes.” He shrugged. “But perhaps this isn’t the best place for you.”