It wasn’t just his body that seemed to be burdened with an invisible weight; his mind was sluggish, too. He’d concentrate with all his might and still end up forgetting half of the items he intended to purchase or chores he needed to complete. When he opened the Bible to read a passage of Scripture as he usually did in the morning, he couldn’t retain what he was reading and he’d have to start over three or four times before it sank in. It was like this for him every winter, but this year was particularly bad.
Jonathan attributed his lethargy to not having enough manual labor to do outdoors, the way he did during planting and harvesting seasons. There was still plenty of labor that needed to be completed in order to prepare the farm for spring, such as maintaining and repairing the machinery, purchasing seed and fertilizer, figuring out and paying taxes, and attending farm shows and horse expos. But most of those tasks required less physical effort and less time outside than what he usually spent during the rest of the year.
But that couldn’t really be the problem, because here Jonathan was now, outdoors and shoveling, but it wasn’t helping him feel more energetic. On the contrary, it was making him wish he could go into hibernation. What he wouldn’t give to go to sleep and wake up again when it was spring and the snow was gone.
That’s not a gut attitude, he chastised himself as soon as the thought crossed his mind. That would be a waste of the life Gott has given me. The life He gave me a second chance to appreciate.
It had been almost eleven years since Jonathan was in an automobile accident that could have cost him his life. That could have cost other people their lives, too.
The car crash happened when he was twenty-five. At the time, he still hadn’t committed to joining the Amish church and he’d been living away from his home as an Englischer, much to his father’s disgust and his mother’s dismay.
Jonathan certainly had a deep faith in Christ, and he loved the Amish lifestyle. But for Jonathan’s father, farming was the only acceptable occupation for his sons. Jonathan would have much rather built houses than raise crops, like his father and his brother, Gabriel.
So from the time he was twenty-one until the time the accident occurred, Jonathan had rented a studio apartment in the next town over from Fawn Crossing and he’d worked with a small Englisch crew doing carpentry. He loved the work but he didn’t love the Englisch lifestyle, and he never felt like he fit in. Because he hadn’t been baptized into the church, he wasn’t shunned by his family and Amish community, but he wasn’t exactly welcomed by them, either.
When he was twenty-four, he met Lisa, an Englisch server at a local restaurant. She was so warm and fun-loving and Jonathan was so lonely he immediately fell for her. It was the first time he’d ever been in love and there was practically nothing he wouldn’t have done for Lisa. So when she asked him to get an Englisch haircut, or purchase a cell phone, or get a driver’s license so he wouldn’t have to rely on his coworkers for rides to job sites, he didn’t hesitate.
After a year of dating, Lisa told Jonathan it was time for them to either get married or break up and move on. Jonathan knew if he married an Englischer, there’d never be any going back to the Amish, but he couldn’t imagine remaining in the Englisch world without Lisa. So he purchased the wedding ring she wanted and proposed to her in a fancy restaurant she liked. Of course she said yes and when their server realized they’d just gotten engaged, he brought a complimentary bottle of champagne to their table. Jonathan tried a sip, his first taste of alcohol, before setting it aside.
Then they headed to his parents’ home—Lisa insisted on meeting them, saying it would likely be her only opportunity—to tell them they’d gotten engaged. Lisa had drunk a couple glasses of champagne, but she had claimed she was fine and having had such little experience with alcohol, Jonathan believed she was. Besides, he was concerned about what kind of tone he’d set for meeting with his parents if they saw him arrive behind the wheel of a car.
As they were traveling along a narrow, winding road, Lisa kept veering across the center line. But when Jonathan suggested he should drive after all, she had laughed and said, “You’ve been in the middle of the road for four years now. One more mile won’t kill you.”
It had just dawned on Jonathan that she’d been referring to his indecision about whether he should “go Englisch” permanently. He was about to make a retort when a minivan came around the bend. Either Lisa sideswiped the van or the van sideswiped her; it all happened so fast Jonathan could hardly remember any of it except the noise and the terrible jarring sensation before he and Lisa plummeted sideways off the low embankment, rolling twice before landing in an upright position, unharmed.
The other car wasn’t so fortunate; it had slammed into a tree. As Lisa dialed 9-1-1, Jonathan climbed up the embankment. He could hear a child—children?—screaming even before he crossed the street, and right then he made a resolution: if everyone in the minivan survived, he’d go back to the farm and join the Amish for good. And he’d never, ever get romantically involved with another woman again, because he clearly couldn’t trust his better judgment when he did.
Fortunately, the mother, father and their two daughters who had been traveling in the other car survived the accident with only minor injuries. Jonathan made good on his promise to himself to return to the Amish, a decision that seemed to infuriate more than sadden Lisa. Although it pained him to break up with her, he had learned she started dating another guy within two weeks and they got married some ten months later.
In the eleven years since the accident, Jonathan and Gabriel had lost both of their parents. First their mother, to cancer, and later their father died of a heart attack. And while Jonathan took less pleasure in farming than he did in carpentry, he consoled himself with the knowledge that his parents had been overjoyed by his return to the Amish faith and lifestyle.
They were especially relieved that Jonathan and his brother were working side by side on the family’s wheat and oats farm once more. Gabriel had always been prone to illness, so Jonathan knew it was a comfort to his mother and father when he promised he’d never abandon Gabriel or the farm again.
Thank the Lord I never seem to lose my strength in the warmer months, Jonathan mused.
“It’s almost lunchtime!” Jonathan’s sister-in-law, Esther, called to him from the porch, interrupting his thoughts.
“I’ll be done in five minutes,” he shouted back, and she waved her approval.
Jonathan was glad his brother had married such a wonderful woman as Esther. Not only did she partner tirelessly with her husband to run the farm, but she’d always treated Jonathan as if he were a member of the household, setting a place for him at every meal even though he could have fixed himself something to eat at his little house on the corner of the property.
Jonathan didn’t have much of an appetite these days, despite all of the time he spent working outdoors, but he’d never turn down the opportunity to spend time around his niece. With her distinctly formed eyebrows, scraggly strawberry blond hair and infectious laugh, little Rebekah was the one person who always brought a smile to Jonathan’s lips.
I may not have a dochder or suh of my own, but my niece is the next best thing, he thought as he stuck his shovel upright in the snowbank. Just then, a van rolled up the driveway.
That must be Leah, Esther’s friend, he thought. He’d met Leah ten years ago at Esther and Gabriel’s wedding, but that was only about a year after the accident and Jonathan had still been adjusting to living on the farm again. He couldn’t remember a lot from that period in his life, other than that his mother had been dying and he’d regretted not having spent more time with her because he was living among the Englisch. His other memories paled in comparison.
“Hello. I’m Jonathan, Gabriel’s brother,” he greeted the trim, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who got out of the van from the front passenger side. She was holding a large rectangular plastic container,
and balanced on top of that was a cake box.
“Jah, I remember you from Esther and Gabriel’s hochzich. I’m Leah,” she said. The apples of her cheeks became even more pronounced when she smiled. There was something about her expression—the upturned nose? the lack of wrinkles?—that made her appear too young to be Esther’s age. “As you can see, Esther’s mamm loaded me down with her favorite treats from home—upside-down fudge cake and coconut macaroons. Would you mind helping me with my bags, please?”
Until then, Jonathan hadn’t realized he’d been staring instead of moving. “Jah.”
“You would mind?” She laughed, but Jonathan felt too doltish to see any humor in his response.
“Neh, I meant I’d help you with your bags.”
He walked around to the back of the van and took the two suitcases from the driver. They were more cumbersome than he expected and as they walked up the driveway, he asked what she’d brought that was so heavy.
“Books, mostly, for when I go to Florida. I can’t wait to sit in the sunshine and read to my heart’s content, without anyone around to interrupt me.”
Jonathan frowned, recalling how he used to read all the time when he moved away from his family. Until he met Lisa, books were his constant companion. He still enjoyed reading when his concentration allowed, but he preferred to pick up a book because he wanted to, not because he had nothing else to do or no one else to turn to for conversation.
“I can’t imagine going all the way to Florida just to read.” Jonathan was hardly aware he’d spoken until Leah replied.
“Well, then I guess it’s a gut thing I’m the one going there and you’re not.” She said it with a smile, but he had the feeling she didn’t mean it in a lighthearted way.
* * *
Leah couldn’t help but notice the frown on Jonathan’s face. Again. That’s what she remembered about him most from the wedding, too—that he wore a vacant, sullen expression. Which was a shame, really, considering his face was otherwise pleasantly masculine, with its hawkish nose, sandy blond eyebrows and blue eyes that seemed extraordinarily large, no doubt magnified by the silver-framed glasses he wore. He probably thinks it’s self-indulgent of me to go to Florida, just like Catherine does. But the trip is a gift and it would be ungracious of me to act as if I’m not excited about going.
After removing their boots and outerwear, they entered the farmhouse through the side mudroom door. Leah barely had time to set the goodies down before Esther came charging in to embrace her. Although Esther was born without her right forearm and hand, she gave some of the best hugs Leah ever received.
“You look wunderbaar!” she told Leah. “Even younger than the last time I went home to Bensonville five years ago. How is it possible you don’t have any wrinkles?”
“Because I don’t have a husband or kinner to give me any,” Leah joked. “My niece and nephew have given me my first gray hairs, though. I think I’ve counted a dozen of them.”
“Just wait until the grays start outnumbering the rest of your hair, the way mine do,” Esther replied.
“You’re so blonde, how can you tell? When I look at you, all I see is the young maedel who used to catch all the buwe’s eyes when we went on singings together.”
Esther shook her head, as if to deny the compliment. She’d always seemed oblivious to her winsome appearance and she turned down one suitor after the next until she’d met Gabriel, who had come to Bensonville to visit distant relatives of his mother. Because Esther and Gabriel had had a long-distance courtship and then Esther moved to Fawn Crossing after the wedding, Leah hadn’t gotten to know Gabriel very well, and she was looking forward to spending more time with him, as well as with Esther and Rebekah.
“Speaking of buwe whose attention you captured, where’s Gabriel?” Leah asked as she, Esther and Jonathan stepped into the kitchen. “And where’s that little bundle of joy you keep writing to me about?”
“Rebekah’s napping and I’m afraid Gabriel is, too. He’s been running a low-grade fever.”
“Oh, dear. You should have told me, Esther. I wouldn’t have imposed on you when your husband is sick.” And I wouldn’t have risked getting ill, myself—I don’t want to wind up with a cold on vacation.
“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I wouldn’t have missed your visit for anything in the world. Besides, Gabriel’s not that sick, he’s just a little run-down. He’s very excited to have you here, though.”
Leah immediately felt guilty for worrying that she might catch Gabriel’s illness and it would interfere with the fun she planned to have in Pinecraft. “I wouldn’t have missed seeing you for anything in the world, either. And I hope Gabriel doesn’t feel obligated to socialize—he ought to take as much rest as he needs. Besides, if he’s in bed, that will give you and me more time to visit alone.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m not that hungerich if you two would rather eat by yourselves.”
Leah hadn’t meant to offend Jonathan; he was so quiet she’d actually forgotten he was in the room with them. She blithely pulled his arm, tugging him toward a seat at the table. “Don’t be lappich, I didn’t mean now! I meant this evening—Esther and I have been known to stay up until the wee hours chatting away. We can do our catching up then.”
Esther chuckled. “I don’t know how late I’ll be able to stay up. Ever since Rebekah was born, I’ve been going to bed almost as soon as I put her down for the night. How can one small bobbel so thoroughly exhaust me?”
Leah knew Esther wasn’t really complaining; everything about her joyful tone and facial expression indicated how thrilled she was to be a mother at last. But she did have dark circles beneath her eyes, so Leah offered, “If you need to take a nap after lunch, I’d be hallich to take care of Rebekah.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Or I can watch her. I know you wanted to go to the grocery store this afternoon, Esther. It’s pretty cold to take the bobbel out, so I could stay here with Rebekah and Gabriel. That way, you and Leah will have time alone to visit with each other.”
Leah giggled at the notion of Jonathan babysitting, but Esther quickly told her he wasn’t joking. “Right before Grischtdaag, Gabriel and I both came down with a twenty-four-hour bug and Jonathan single-handedly took care of Rebekah the entire time.”
“Really?” Leah glanced at Jonathan, who looked as if he hadn’t even shaved that morning and whose speech and actions were so languid it seemed as if he was the one who needed a nap. Or at least a strong cup of coffee. She couldn’t imagine him interacting with a baby, except perhaps to lull her to sleep with his lackadaisical mannerisms.
“Jah. She’s narrish about him. You should see her chubby little face light up whenever he enters the room, right, Jonathan?”
His ears turned red and instead of answering, he pushed his chair back and excused himself for a minute, saying he’d forgotten to wash his hands. Once he left, Leah scooped chili into three bowls while Esther cut a pan of corn bread into squares and buttered them. As they worked, they simultaneously discussed the latest gossip from Bensonville, as well as life on the farm in Fawn Crossing.
“Gabriel’s bruder really has been a huge help with Rebekah,” Esther repeated. “I don’t know any other men—except for Gabriel, of course—who would help out with a bobbel the way he has. If he’s this gut with his niece, imagine how he’d be with his own kinner.”
“I hope that’s not a hint,” Leah warned. “You know I have no interest in courting and even less interest in starting a familye.”
“It wasn’t a hint—I was just commenting on how much I’ve appreciated Jonathan’s help, that’s all. Besides, he seems to have even less interest in courting than you do, if that’s possible,” Esther said. Then she added with a laugh, “Which I suppose means you two have something important in common so you’d probably make a really gut couple.”
Leah had to laugh at
Esther’s twisted logic, too. “I’m relatively certain not wanting to court is the only thing Jonathan and I have in common. He’s kind of...schtill, isn’t he?” Although she used the Pennsylfaanisch Deitsch word for quiet, what Leah was implying was that he was dull.
“Jah, I suppose he is too schtill for a bobblemoul like you,” Esther jested, fondly referring to Leah as a blabbermouth and making her crack up once again.
“I admit, I am more babblich than usual, but that’s only because I’m so hallich to be visiting you before I go to Florida,” she explained. “I can hardly contain my excitement!”
And if I didn’t let Catherine squelch it, I’m not going to let a wet blanket like Jonathan detract from this blessing, either.
* * *
Jonathan stood in the hallway, waiting for Leah and Esther to change the subject so they wouldn’t know he’d overheard them talking about him and think he’d been intentionally eavesdropping. They hadn’t said anything that was untrue or unkind and yet he felt embarrassed by their remarks. But why? Although courting was a personal matter, Esther was right about him not wanting to be anyone’s suitor, so that wasn’t what made him feel chagrined. No, it was Leah’s description of him that caught Jonathan off guard.
Schtill meant quiet, but it also meant still, or holding still. Which, considering Jonathan’s general mood for the past three months, was the perfect word to describe him; inwardly, he felt as frozen as a dormant seed. He just hadn’t realized it was so obvious even a stranger could recognize it at a glance.
But maybe Leah hadn’t noticed his mood; maybe she’d only meant that he wasn’t talking a lot. The way she said schtill sounded scornful to him, but Jonathan couldn’t be sure; when he was this low, he sometimes interpreted remarks in ways they weren’t intended. In any case, what did it matter what she thought of him? Today was Saturday and Leah was leaving early Tuesday morning. Likewise, his mood was transient, too.
An Amish Winter (Love Inspired) Page 10
