by Amy Clipston
Darlene nodded. With her golden hair and brown eyes, Darlene was attractive as well, and Alice often wondered why she didn’t have a boyfriend. But lately, she didn’t have much time for a relationship. The Bender family was struggling as her mother received chemo treatments for cancer.
“How is your mamm doing?” Alice asked.
Darlene frowned. “She had another tough week.” Then she gave them a weary smile. “The Lord is taking care of her, though, right? Even though she can’t come to church with her immune system suppressed?”
“Of course he is,” Sharon said.
Alice glanced at Andrew, who stood right next to Darlene. His dark eyes seemed to fill with concern. He’d always been the shy one, remaining quiet while Cal and Jay traded barbs at times. He pushed a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “Would you rather we sing for your mamm?”
“No, but danki.” Darlene shook her head. “She still doesn’t want visitors.” She nodded toward Cal’s buggy. “But, ya, let’s go sing for mei onkel.”
As Alice climbed into Andrew’s buggy, she began forming a plan to get Dave back in their friend group. She was determined to do it.
* * *
Confusion plagued Dave as he guided his horse home. Why did Alice keep bothering to ask him to join her and the others? He’d turned her down every time, and the last time he’d been with them was a week before the accident.
He’d always been drawn to Alice, but her nearly relentless invitations frustrated him. Deep down he knew she wouldn’t want to spend time with him once she accepted who he really was. At first, Jay and Cal had tried to reignite their friendship with him as well, but they finally got smart. Just as well. Not even the men who’d been his best friends could make any difference in his life now.
Maybe they were all just trying to be good Christians. But didn’t they know the truth? When he’d let them and the whole community down, he’d let God down as well.
Dave rubbed at his stinging eyes as his horse trotted up the driveway to his parents’ large, brick house with the sweeping front porch. This was where he’d been born and raised, along with his older sister, Rosemary.
After stowing his horse and buggy, he made his way inside the house. He was relieved to be alone. His sister had a family of her own now, and he’d managed to get home from church before his parents did.
He climbed the stairs to his room, where he changed out of his black Sunday suit and white shirt, then flopped onto his bed. Now he stared at the plain, white ceiling, waiting for the relief of sleep, hoping the dreams wouldn’t come.
Chapter Two
“How was your afternoon?” Mamm asked as Alice stepped into the family room later that evening. She held a novel in her hands as she relaxed in her favorite armchair.
With the dark hair and eyes Alice had inherited from her mamm, her friends often said she was the spitting image of her mother. All Alice knew for sure, though, was that she was grateful for Mamm’s special friendship and patient ear whenever she needed advice.
“It was nice. We sang for Darlene’s onkel Merv.” Alice dropped down on the worn brown sofa she’d known all her life. “He seems to be doing much better since his back surgery. Where are Dat and Benji?”
“They’re checking on the animals.”
Alice smoothed her hands over her white apron as her thoughts turned from her father and brother to Dave again. The image of his sad blue eyes had haunted her all afternoon, and she’d completed her new plan on the way home.
“Is something on your mind?” Mamm asked.
Alice bit her lower lip. “Well, has Annie Esh mentioned any upcoming quilting bees?”
“No.” Mamm tilted her head. “Why?”
“It’s been a while since we quilted with her, and you’re gut freinden, right?” Alice had tried to think of any other reason to get together with Dave’s mamm in case her mother didn’t like this idea. But she was sure it would work. “After all, we have quite a few quilts to finish before fall. Before you know it, the tourists will be buying quilts for Christmas gifts.”
“But why do you want to quilt with Annie?” Mamm’s eyes assessed her, obviously looking for a motive. “What are you not telling me?”
Alice rested her elbow on the arm of the sofa and then dropped her chin to the palm of her hand. “I approached Dave again today, but he still won’t join our group activities. Really, he won’t even talk to me. He always looks so bedauerlich. I want to find a way to minister to him. I miss his friendship, and I’m worried about him.”
Mamm clucked her tongue. “That was such a terrible accident, and my heart breaks for Annie Esh’s freind. Esther Fisher lost her little Adam, just seven years old. But we can’t question God’s plan for us or for our kinner.”
“I just can’t take the pain in Dave’s face. He used to smile and laugh, and my heart breaks every time I see him. I want to help him find happiness again. I think if we quilt with Annie at her haus, I’ll have a better opportunity to talk to Dave, and maybe I can convince him to come to a singing with us.”
Mamm smiled. “That’s a wunderbaar idea. I’m certain he needs his freinden. I’ll give Annie a call this week.”
“Danki.” Alice stood. “I’m going to change my clothes.”
Once upstairs, she started down the hallway to her bedroom. But when she reached the sewing room, she stepped inside and then sank into the chair at the sewing table to look at the pink-and-blue Lonestar quilt she’d begun last week.
She ran her fingers over the stitching as she once again thought about the anguish—not just sadness—she’d seen on Dave’s face, especially when he didn’t know she was looking. How she longed to replace it with the joy she used to see there.
Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Lord, please help me break through the wall Dave has built around himself. I need your guidance so I can show him that I miss his friendship and want him back in my life. Help me show him that I’m still his freind and I need him to be mine.”
When she opened her eyes, she smiled. A special warmth had filled her, and with God’s help, Dave’s friendship would return to her and all their friends.
* * *
Dave jolted upright in his bed and then glanced around his dark room before wiping away the sweat beaded on his forehead. Despite taking an afternoon nap, he’d been able to fall asleep for the night almost as soon as he laid down. But now . . .
A humid breeze and chorus of cicadas poured through his open window, and the nightmare clung to him like a second skin. He could still hear Adam’s screams followed by Esther’s wails, and his heart pounded like a hammer trying to break out of his chest.
Pushing himself up from his bed, he grabbed the lantern from his nightstand, then flipped on the light to pad down to the kitchen. Once there, he leaned against the sink as he filled a glass with water, and then his hand trembled as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a long drink. He dropped his head nearly to his chest, taking deep breaths in an attempt to slow his still-pounding pulse.
He lifted the lantern and slipped out to the back porch, where he dropped into the swing, breathing in fresh air, hoping to erase the horrific images and sounds the nightmares tortured him with nearly every night. Rubbing one hand down his face, he forced them all from his mind. He needed to think about something else, anything else. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure a more pleasant and comforting image.
Alice Blank.
Her lovely face. Her smile with those pink lips and high cheekbones. Her sweet voice.
His eyes snapped open. Why was he doing this to himself? This was just another kind of torture. He’d lost any chance with Alice when he’d allowed Adam to die in his care. No one would ever want to be involved with such a careless man, not even her. Alice just pitied him, like everyone else did. He’d seen it in their eyes every day since the accident. He knew they all blamed him too. Oh, he’d heard his friends and family say he wasn’t at fault, but deep down, how could they think that? Of course they didn’t
.
His lungs seemed to freeze, but he forced the air from them as he recalled his brief encounter with Alice after church, replaying the conversation and the warmth in her eyes. She’d seemed to genuinely want him to join them as they sang for Darlene’s uncle.
But she was wasting her time. After Adam died, Dave was lost in a sea of guilt and grief. He’d craved love and understanding from his friends—especially from Alice—but he’d known those friendships also died that day.
He needed a fresh start, and that was why he’d leave Bird-in-Hand as soon as he had enough money to sustain him while he searched for a job and a new home. That was also why he had to keep Alice at a distance. Soon he’d leave her behind.
He took a deep breath and then stood. He had to get some sleep before facing another day working beside his father. He loved his parents and Rosemary and her husband, Stephen—and certainly his little niece, Nancy. But they all felt more like strangers than family now. Since the accident, he could tell they looked on him with pity, too, and blame had to be just under the surface no matter how they tried to hide it. Just like everyone else, they were no doubt judging him for his mistake with every step he took. How could they help it?
If only he hadn’t let them down.
If only he hadn’t let down God.
Dave pinched the bridge of his nose as blame again pummeled his heart.
He grabbed his lantern and empty glass, and after locking the back door behind him, he deposited the glass in the sink and then took the stairs to his room.
Dropping onto his bed, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. But Alice’s face floated to the front. He needed to shove away any thoughts of her. After all, once he left, he’d never see her again.
If only he could understand why his heart hurt at the thought of leaving Alice when it was the best choice for his future—and for her.
* * *
Alice leaned forward on her gardening cart and pulled another weed from the ripe, red tomato plants. The Tuesday morning sun warmed the back of her neck as she dropped the weed into the bucket beside her and then glanced around her garden, taking in the green lettuce and cucumbers waiting for their turn to be picked. The garden was actually her mother’s, but Mamm always said she considered it theirs because Alice loved it so.
She tented her hand over her eyes as she heard Mamm call her name.
“Alice!” She called again as she came closer.
“Ya? Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine.” Mamm’s smile widened. “I just checked the voice mail messages, and you had one from Sharon. She’s hosting a supper Friday night and wants to know if you can help serve—and also sing. Those meals with the Englishers are so popular. It’s a great way for families like the Lamberts to teach them about our culture as well as make a little extra money to help their families.”
“I’d love to go. Would it be all right?”
“Of course. You’ll be interested in another message too. Annie Esh called me back. I mentioned it’s been a long time since we’ve quilted together, and she wants us to come over for a quilting bee Thursday afternoon.”
“That sounds like the perfect opportunity for me to talk to Dave once he’s home from work.” Alice popped up from the cart and hugged her mother. “Danki!”
“Gern gschehne.” Mamm pointed to the tomato plants. “It looks like you could use some help with that weeding.”
“I thought you were dusting the downstairs.”
“I’m done.” Mamm nodded toward the cart. “If I can sit, I’ll help you.”
“That would be fun.” Alice smiled as Mamm sank down and started weeding. How she enjoyed the time they spent working side by side. And how grateful she was that Mamm was going to help her minister to Dave.
* * *
The rays from the sun Thursday afternoon burned through Dave’s gray shirt, already soiled from the day’s work. Worse, his shoulders ached and his back throbbed as he set another brick on the foundation that would support the basement walls of the house they were building.
He removed his straw hat and swiped his bandana over his sweaty forehead, then glanced around at the other workers. Nearly all his father’s employees were Amish, dressed in clothes similar to his—darker-colored, button-down shirts; broadfall trousers; and suspenders.
Dave took a long drink from his bottle of water as he observed his father giving instructions to the newest member of the team. The young Amish man seemed eager to please as he nodded and wore a serious expression.
Not that long ago, Dave had been eager to please his father, too, soaking up everything Dat told him about brick masonry. He’d enjoyed using his hands to build homes, fences, and patios. And although he ran the risk of being prideful, he knew he was good at it. He’d felt as if he’d found his calling, and he dreamt of the day he would build his own home in Bird-in-Hand.
But he no longer enjoyed his work. And he was planning to leave the community—and his job. But today, he was somehow filled with a mixture of regret and anxiety.
Dave replaced his hat and set down the water bottle, then rubbed the sore muscles in his shoulders.
“How are you doing here, David?”
Dave glanced over his shoulder as Dat approached, his face stern, which seemed to be the only expression he wore at work. He took the business seriously, but Dave couldn’t blame him for that. “It’s going well. We’re making progress.”
“Gut, gut.” Dat looked down at his clipboard. “Well, then, keep going. We have a deadline to meet,” he said before walking away.
As Dave turned back to the foundation, he suddenly found himself longing for someone to talk to, someone who would listen and offer the understanding his heart ached to receive. But how could anyone he knew—even Cal, who’d been his closest friend, or even his own father—really care about him after the mistake he’d made? They couldn’t. Nor could they ever understand his agony.
He’d just have to follow through with his plan to leave. Maybe he’d make new friends somewhere, with people who’d never know what he’d done. And no matter how much he craved someone’s understanding, he’d never risk telling them. Never.
Chapter Three
Gnawing on her lower lip, Alice stood near the window closest to the end of Annie Esh’s long, rock driveway and listened for the rumble of a car engine that would announce Dave’s return from work. Beside her, Mamm and Annie were discussing the heirloom quilt Mamm had added to her armload. Annie had asked her if she’d repair it—one of Mamm’s special talents.
As she spent the afternoon working on her king-sized Lonestar quilt, she must have peeked out the family room window nearly a hundred times, watching for Dave even when she knew it was too early for him to appear.
The whole time, conversation with Mamm and Annie had been mundane, mostly discussing the current health of people in the community, the weather, and sewing projects. But Alice had longed for Annie to talk about Dave, knowing his family had to be dealing with his sorrow too. Several times she’d considered asking her how she thought Dave was handling the tragedy he’d experienced, but such a personal question would be inappropriate. If Annie wanted to discuss her son’s well-being, she’d bring up the subject herself.
“I really had a nice time,” Annie told them when Mamm finally seemed ready to go. “Danki so much for coming over.” With her light-blue eyes and light-brown hair she bore a strong resemblance to Dave, and Annie could never deny he was her son.
“We had a wunderbaar time too.” Mamm glanced at Alice. “Alice and I have missed quilting with you. We’re so glad you were available today.”
Alice nodded and then turned as the crunch of tires on rock sounded from the bottom of the driveway. Her heart seemed to flip as the black truck that carried Dave and his father home from work steered toward the large barn she knew housed their equipment and supplies. She hugged her quilt as Dave climbed out and said something to his father and their driver before heading for the barn, his
shoulders hunched, his eyes focused on the ground.
She pivoted toward her mother and Annie. “Excuse me. I’d like to go say hello to Dave.”
“That would be nice,” Annie said.
“Take your time,” Mamm added.
Alice hurried after him. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away.
* * *
“Hi!”
Dave spun toward the barn door, and his eyes widened for a split second as they focused on Alice. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
“Mei mamm and I quilted with your mamm this afternoon.” She smiled as she came closer.
Dave tried to shake off his confusion. Once again Alice had completely taken him by surprise, appearing when he least expected it. Why did she keep doing this? If she spent more than five minutes with him, she’d regret it.
“I was just about to go into my workshop.”
“May I join you for a minute?”
“If you want.”
She followed him, and once inside, he flipped on a couple of lanterns, then dropped onto a stool by his worktable and picked up the latest iron railing he’d created. He ran his fingers over the piece and once again imagined it on one of the steep staircases he helped build.
“That’s schee.”
Alice hugged a quilt against her black apron and peered down at the railing, her brown eyes glittering in the low light of the lanterns. She looked lovely today clad in a black apron and a dark-green dress that made her hair seem more red than brown.
She leaned over him and touched the railing. He breathed in her scent—some kind of flowery shampoo?—and his pulse strangely galloped as chills nearly made him shiver.
“Did you make this?” she asked.
He nodded.
She scanned his workshop, her intelligent eyes taking in the piles of scrap metal, his tools, and the railings he’d completed stacked in the corner. Then she looked back at him, her brow furrowed.
“I didn’t know you made railings.”
