“And now, everyone will know that Marcus is innocent.” Hannah lifted a defensive hand. “But we’ve got to feel sorry for someone who becomes so desperate for money, they rob to get it.”
A long, tense silence ensued, while Hannah wondered what would become of the middle-aged man she’d seen on occasion, Nate Jenkins. His wife had been through a number of health crises, and earlier this summer, he had been let go from his full-time job in Decatur for missing too much work.
“I feel sorry for him.”
The expression on Maemm’s face changed to that of shock. “Hannah, if he’d relied on Gott to help his family instead of turning to breaking the law . . .”
Hannah lowered her eyes and gave a sad shake of her head. “That’s why he needs Gott’s help. We’ve got to pray for him, Maemm. Right now, he needs Gott’s love. He needs to know that he has a Lord and Savior who’s looking over him.”
The corners of her mother’s lips curved into an amused grin. “Hannah, you always have been the most forgiving girl I’ve ever known. How’d I become so fortunate as to have you for my daughter?”
Hannah drew her arms over her heart as she tried to absorb her maemm’s obvious love for her, and that she was actually expressing it. Hannah didn’t know what to say. Then something occurred to her, and she raised an inquisitive brow. “I wonder what Old Sam would’ve done if he’d been in my shoes.”
Several heartbeats later, Maemm lowered her gaze to her shoes. When she lifted her chin, warmth and tenderness filled her eyes.
“What?”
“I know what he would’ve told all of us, Hannah. How could I forget?”
Hannah parted her lips in anticipation, waiting to hear what she was sure would put things into perspective.
“Dear Old Sam. He knew every Proverb. And I’d heard him talk enough about forgiveness at church, I’m ashamed of myself for not having stopped to think about how he’d have handled this situation.”
After taking in a breath, Hannah’s mother went on. “I can’t remember exactly how he said it, but it went something like this: Love’s power to forgive is stronger than hate’s power to get even.”
“I guess I’m the way I am because of you and Daed. You raised me in the church. Always taught me to forgive. To give others a chance.”
“Because Jesus died on the cross so we could all be forgiven and have eternal life.” Her mother’s voice hitched. Then she swallowed and looked away before returning her gaze to Hannah. “Sometimes, I forget what Gott wants us to do. To love everyone as our neighbor and to forgive, lest we will be judged, too.” She frowned before expelling a breath. “Hannah, you’re exactly right.” A wide smile lifted the corners of her lips. “We’ve got to forgive Nate. And help him with his debt.”
Hannah agreed. “Most of all, we’ve got to lead him to Gott. When that happens, everything else will work out.”
* * *
The following day, Marcus prayed the moment he awoke. As soon as he said amen, he strode to his small bedroom window, which offered a partial view of Pebble Creek. For some reason, he felt the need to spend time there. His schedule had changed, and now he had Mondays off.
The attempted theft at Lapp Furniture two days before had presented him with emotions he hadn’t known he had. When he recalled the sickening, helpless feeling that had filled his chest as he and Ben had made their way toward the store, a chill swept up his spine, and he shivered.
Even the beautiful hill that stood out in predominantly flat Illinois didn’t calm him when he recalled the moment he’d learned about the danger Hannah was in.
But God had been with Hannah. And she’s okay. He swallowed an uncomfortable knot that blocked his throat. Even though things had worked out, he still needed to apply reason to the uncertainty that had kept him up most of the night.
A redbird perched on the sill in front of him. In the distance, he could see that no one was outside at Ben’s home. The kids were at school, Ben was at work, and Ruth was most likely inside cooking.
Narrowing his brows, slow, thoughtful steps took him to the back door, where he stepped outside. As he took in the warm breeze and the beautiful, old oak trees, he fully appreciated the full view of the hill where significant things had occurred over the years. At least, that was what Hannah had told him. But bits and pieces he’d heard at work and in town backed up what she’d conveyed.
I’ll figure out what I’m feeling. I need to be patient. He stretched his arms and stepped back inside to make a quick cup of coffee before he started his walk. Caffeine helped to facilitate clear thinking.
Of course, his dwelling wasn’t wired for electricity, so he did what he’d gotten used to: He boiled water in a saucepan on the gas burner and then poured it into the coffee filter he held over a wide mug that said Chicago on it.
A few minutes later, he sat outside on the patio chair and took in the vast area of soybeans, corn, and alfalfa. As he sipped black coffee, he closed his eyes and said another prayer of thanks that Hannah was okay.
Again, as he realized that with any slight change, things could have taken her from him, he squeezed his eyes closed a moment to reflect on the positive. When he opened his lids, he got up from his chair, returned the mug to the kitchen table, and went back outside.
As he glimpsed workhorses pulling someone through a field in the distance, he smiled a little. And something big hit him. Two days ago, I prayed to my Lord and Savior in desperation. It’s the first time I’ve asked God for something with such urgency and need. And my prayer was answered.
What had happened had awakened him to the huge impact God now played in his life. How did I ever get through the day without God? How did I survive the deaths of my parents without faith and belief?
So many thoughts flitted through his mind, he drew in a deep breath and expelled it. One thing at a time. Without thinking, he started in the direction of the hill. As he breathed in the combination of earthy scents from the nearby fields, the significance of knowing God hit him with such force that the miracle of it all nearly took his breath away.
He looked up at the clouds. The sun hid underneath one that reminded him of the mashed potatoes his mother used to make. He swallowed an emotional knot. Are my parents in heaven?
Marcus pressed his lips together in a thoughtful line and continued toward the hill, which was some distance away. Slow, thoughtful strides brought him to Pebble Creek as if the coveted place was a magnet pulling him in its direction.
As the sun continued to rise higher in the sky, the hill drew closer. Marcus took in the ambience, and a peaceful sensation filled his entire body. Everything around me is a gift from God Almighty. The fields. The sun and the clouds. The breeze.
The smell of a freshly mowed ditch floated through his nostrils, and he breathed it in with great appreciation. These gifts cannot be created by man. These are signs that the Creator of the Universe included in His plan when He created the earth.
How can people not believe in God? How did I go for so many years without a personal relationship with the One who created me? God put me here with a purpose. What is it?
* * *
That evening, as the sun created beautiful colors in the west, Marcus ate a sandwich at his small kitchen table. As he chewed a bite of ham salad, he looked around his house. The robbery at Lapp Furniture wouldn’t leave his thoughts. He’d never, ever forget the happiness he’d experienced when he’d seen Hannah, safe and sound, with his own eyes. Now, he felt even more determined to make the big decision that faced him. The very choice he thought about all day and at night.
He paced the living room, contemplating what the room would look like with a sofa and chair set from Lapp Furniture, before stopping in front of the window.
While he’d been at Lapp Furniture, he’d glimpsed beautiful polished woods. Hand-carved, intricate details. A particular dark oak table had grabbed his attention as he’d waited while Hannah had assisted the police with their report.
What am I going to do? Should I stay he
re? Should I move back to the city and try to rescue my brothers? That question prompted a frown. At that moment, he acknowledged that the city no longer appealed to him. At all.
He ticked off reasons on his fingers. Number one, I prefer the countryside. There’s something about fresh air and openness that appeals to me. I like the quiet. It allows me to appreciate the sounds of nature.
Number two, I have no desire to sit in traffic every night on my way home from work.
Number three, here in Arthur, people are hardworking. Honest. He smiled a little. Except for the thief who robbed King’s Bakery and Lapp Furniture.
Number four, what would I do without Hannah’s raspberry jelly?
And number five—He expelled a deep, serious sigh. What would I do without Hannah? I truly love her.
After he’d downed the remainder of his sandwich, he shoved the wrapping to the side and reached for the Holy Bible that Ben and Ruth had given him. He opened it to a passage from Matthew that he’d found while deciding whether to stay here and ask for Hannah’s hand in marriage. He reread the verse from chapter six that had sparked serious thought:
Do not lay for yourselves treasures on earth, when moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves don’t break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart is also.
Bible in hand, he stepped to the living room couch, where he stood very still, contemplating the passage. This countryside is beautiful.
Corn and soybean fields. Country houses. His heart warmed while he contemplated his decision to come here. I never dreamed that I’d fall in love with a place that offered so little.
He pressed his lips together and arched a brow. But did Arthur really offer very little? Or did it offer a lot? As he sat back in his chair, he stared at God’s Holy Word and tried for an answer.
Compared to Chicago, there were very few restaurants. No retail stores. But really, what did the city offer him? He ticked off the first things that came to his mind. Restaurants, gas stations . . . He stopped the moment he realized the difference.
The city provided plenty of food to eat. The countryside offered him food for his soul. His breath hitched at that very serious acknowledgment. The Lapp family offered him more opportunity to grow spiritually than anyone in the city.
Not only that, but he’d changed. To his astonishment, he didn’t miss drinking a beer with coworkers in the evenings.
And he hadn’t missed the episodes of NCIS. That thought prompted a smile. Instead, he’d learned to appreciate the night sounds. The way the moonbeams made their way into his bedroom.
He could attend church in the city, if he wanted. There were all denominations, and he could take his pick. But strangely and amazingly, his heart had taken root in this little town in the middle of nowhere.
In particular, in Amish Edibles, where he’d met Hannah. He could move away, if he wanted, but would he be as happy anywhere else as he was here?
Automatically, he thought seriously of committing to Hannah and relinquishing his car. To have one, he needed to give up the other.
As he contemplated his destiny, his gaze drifted to the Bible that was opened and bookmarked to Matthew 6:19–21. In silence, he scanned the verse again. And his attention stayed on the very last part. For where your treasure is, there your heart is also.
What exactly does that mean? He ran his hand over his jaw. His thoughts returned to his father. To their car talk. To his goal of owning his very first Chevrolet. To him and his dad taking their very first ride in it.
If I no longer drove a Chevrolet, would that break my connection to my father? After serious thought, he shook his head. No. My connection to my dad goes way deeper than our love for cars.
For a surprising moment, he imagined helping Hannah to step up and get into a black buggy, closing the door, and sitting next to her as their Standardbred clomp-clomped down the country blacktop.
A smile tugged up the corners of his lips. He imagined helping her to load their kitchen shelves with groceries. He could almost smell her homemade grain bread in the kitchen oven.
While questions flitted within him, he closed his eyes for a moment and mentally ordered himself to stay calm. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, uncontrollable emotions flitted through his heart until his chest ached. But the ache wasn’t painful, really.
It was more of a feeling similar to what he’d experienced when his parents had surprised him with a new bicycle on his tenth birthday, or something like that. A sense of urgency prompted him to stand and pace. He made his way outside to the backyard, where he took in the distant view of Pebble Creek. Sounds of cicadas and crickets accompanied the night breeze.
He let out a low whistle as an excited shiver coursed through him. Then he lifted his chin and stepped to the nearest oak tree, where he pulled a green leaf and ran his finger over the veins.
Only God can create this. God must have made Old Sam to be His messenger. Old Sam sounds sort of like a disciple. But I don’t know much about the Bible. There is so much to learn. But I’ve got time. Time to learn and time to serve.
Everything that had happened since he’d planted himself in Arthur started to sort itself out in his mind, and his shoulders relaxed. He dropped the leaf and fixed his gaze on Pebble Creek. The setting sun cast a shadow on the hill that held so much sentiment.
Hannah instantly became my best friend, and now, I’m sure I’m in love with her. I almost lost her. I realize how much she means to me, and I’m so grateful she’s alive. Amish folks don’t marry outside of their faith. And I’m far from Amish. I don’t know all their rules, but from watching these conservative, faithful people, I’m sure there are many things in my past that would immediately disqualify me from becoming one of them. I’ve sworn. I’ve been to bars. I’ve even taken for granted the life God has given me. That’s all changing. But I’ve sinned, and I can’t erase things I’ve done, even if I found nothing wrong with them when I committed them. They’re on my life’s résumé.
Amish in this part of the United States don’t even use computers or cell phones. I don’t know how they survive on so little. I wish Hannah lived with more reasonable rules.
Amusement pulled up the corners of his lips. No, I don’t. I love her just the way she is.
Suddenly, Marcus pressed his lips together as he recalled why he’d come here in the first place. I want to follow Christ. In order to do that, I need to find out what the Bible says. God has a plan for me. And I won’t know what it is unless I understand what He does and doesn’t want me to do.
As he expelled a breath of full realization, he turned and made his way to the front of his house. To the paved sidewalk that led from his place to the Lapp home.
This is my new life, and I’m grateful. Dear God, please tell me how to live. I want to live for You, but how do You want me to do it?
When he spotted a figure coming his way, he immediately stood and waved a friendly hand. “Ben!”
“Marcus!”
When they met in between the two homes, they shook hands. “Watcha up to tonight?”
Marcus lifted his palms to the sky and offered a half smile. “Just doing some reflecting. Trying to figure things out.”
To his surprise, the corners of Ben’s lips curved into an amused smile. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Hannah, now, does it?”
For a moment, Marcus looked away in embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was for his friend and coworker to know how strongly he felt about Ben’s sister, who was out-of-bounds for the Chicago native.
Ben gave him a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”
Before Marcus could reply, Ben motioned to the path leading to his home and lifted his chin a notch. “I thought you might wanna come for dinner. There’s plenty of time to talk.” He gave a nod at the remainder of path to where he, Ruth, and their four boys lived.
Finally, Marcus agreed. “Ah, why not?”
As they began their walk, Marcus acknowledged how nice it was not to have to worry about locking up. And even though Marcus preferred to keep his feelings for Hannah to himself, it was obvious Ben had figured them out. Perhaps he could shed light on what to do.
“I still can’t believe what happened at your family’s furniture store,” Marcus started.
“It is remarkable, but Gott watched over us. Over Hannah, in particular.”
Marcus didn’t respond.
Ben lowered the pitch of his voice. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
When Marcus tried to ignore the question, Ben went on. “You know what Old Sam used to say, buddy?”
“What?”
“That every miracle Jesus does starts with a problem.”
The words prompted the corners of Marcus’s lips to curve upward. “I wish Old Sam were here right now. Maybe he could tell me what to do.”
Marcus offered Ben an expression three parts annoyance and one part seriousness. “Isn’t it obvious?”
When Ben remained silent, Marcus went on. “I love your sister, but I’m not good enough to marry her.” When Ben glanced at him with a lifted brow, Marcus went on. “Your family . . . the people in your church . . . you’ve all lived such Godly lives. And my life résumé’s far from pristine. Hannah doesn’t deserve someone like me.”
“My friend, let me tell you something.” After a short pause, he continued. “There’s no such thing as a backseat Christian. Marcus, everyone sins. And I admire you for being open. This is just my opinion, but it’s the people who think they’ve got a straight line to Gott we should be wary of. I believe that Gott likes us to humble ourselves before him. And you, my friend, are doing just that. The moment you accepted our Lord as your Savior, you were saved from everything you’ve ever done.”
Marcus’s head began to spring a dull ache. He frowned. The Scripture from the book of Matthew floated through his thoughts. So did life without Hannah. So did forfeiting driving his Chevy.
Then another piece of a sermon swept into his head. But instead of making the picture more complicated, it made it clearer. It doesn’t matter who your parents are. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It’s who you know. And then his mother’s words made the finale. Follow your heart.
Promise at Pebble Creek Page 16