by Loree Lough
Julia’s watch beeped. “Goodness. I’d better get supper started. Your family will be in soon, hungry after their hard day.”
But Hannah seemed not to have heard the chime or Julia’s words. “Will you be seeing Simon tonight?”
The question came from out of nowhere, flustering and confusing Julia, who couldn’t understand why her heart began pounding at the mere mention of his name. “No…no, I don’t think so. It’ll be late by the time I get back and—”
“You know, don’t you, that God does not approve of wastefulness.”
Julia could only sit blinking. “Wasteful—”
“He has brought you two together for a reason. Nothing He does is without a reason. Don’t you see?”
“I don’t mean to be obtuse, but I’m afraid I—”
On the heels of an exasperated sigh, Hannah said, “Simon will make a good husband, and he will be a good father. Do not waste this opportunity!”
How could Hannah possibly know what prompted the tough decision she had made, days ago, to spare Simon a lifetime of heartache? “What might seem a good opportunity for me,” she said, “might not be so good for poor Simon.”
Hannah clasped Julia’s hands between her own. “Poor Simon, indeed.” Hannah clucked her tongue. “You already know, I am sure, that he had a wife?”
Julia nodded.
“Her name was Georgia. A very elegant lady with very fancy tastes. She did not want babies, though Simon would have moved the mountains to change her mind. He decided, I think, to be satisfied with a life that did not include children and put everything he had into pleasing her.” Hannah groaned. “He told me not long after her funeral that his biggest mistake as her husband was not being stronger, especially on that important subject. At the time, I did not know what he meant. But when he began hanging around here more, to be near Rebekah and Seth and especially Levi after her passing, I figured it out: If she had given him a child or two, he would not have felt so alone once she was gone.”
Julia made no effort to hide her disapproval. “Now really, what kind of loving and merciful God would tear Simon’s world apart like that? Why didn’t God save her? If Georgia had lived, she might’ve changed her mind and given—”
“Spoken like a true Englisher,” Hannah said matter-of-factly. “God called her home because her work here was done.” She shrugged. “Would she have taken children as God’s blessings, had she not died?” Another shrug. “Only God knows, but I do not believe so.”
Julia wanted to say that things weren’t that simple, but something told her Hannah would have disagreed wholeheartedly.
“God loves you, Julia. I believe it saddens Him to know you have so little faith, so little trust in Him.”
Though Julia failed to see what her faith—or lack of it—had to do with her relationship with Simon, she said nothing.
“You have told yourself the same lie so many times that you believe it yourself!” Hannah blurted.
Lie? What lie? Julia prided herself on being honest, on telling the truth….
“You think that because of what your parents were and how they died, and because a very sick and sinful man attacked you, you do not deserve a man like Simon!” She slapped the table again. “It is rare that I give in to frustration, but I’m ready to give up!”
“Um, sorry,” Julia whispered.
“If only it were as plain to you as it is to me. Any man would be blessed to have a wife like you. And the children God would grant you? They would be blessed, too.” Suddenly Hannah was on her feet, heading for her makeshift parlor bed. “I am tired,” she said, “and I feel the need to pray.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Hannah hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said their conversation had frustrated her. Should have kept your big mouth shut, Julia told herself. Baring her soul might just have cost her a dear and beloved friend.
Halfway across the kitchen, Hannah paused and pulled Julia into a big, warm hug. “You are such a dear, dear young woman, Julia.” She held her at arm’s length and gave her a gentle shake. “Your life could be so different, so wonderful, if only you would trust in our God! Promise you will pray on it?”
Relief at knowing that Hannah wasn’t angry prompted instant agreement from Julia. It had been a long time since she’d spoken with the Almighty on her own behalf, so long that Julia didn’t have the faintest notion where or how to begin. But amazingly, for the first time in many years, Julia wanted to try. “You’d better lie down before you fall down,” she said, smiling. “Before I start supper, I think I’ll see if William and the children would like a cool glass of water.”
Hannah laughed. “Just take care,” she warned, “that they do not talk you into helping with those pigs!”
Chapter Thirteen
During a previous visit to the Gundens’, Simon had arranged to take Levi to the sanctuary. And though both Hannah and William had hesitated at first, he’d convinced them to agree by saying the boy might learn things he could put to good use on the farm. Besides, he’d told them, what better way for a boy to spend a summer day? But when he arrived, Levi sat alone on the top porch step, his chin resting on a fist as he stared at the horizon. “Hey, big guy,” Simon called from the pickup truck, “why the long face?”
“I am punished,” Levi said on a sigh. “Again.”
Simon sat beside him. “Uh-oh. What did you do…this time?”
Levi heaved a huge breath. “It was not what I did, but what I said…I guess. Papa claims my mouth is fresh…but I do not know what that means.”
The boy shrugged as Simon slid an arm over his slender shoulders. “My dad used to say that, too. It means you’ve spoken out of turn or said something disrespectful.” He gave the boy a sideways hug. “Or both.”
“I got mud and dung on Mama’s clean kitchen floor,” he explained. “I got thirsty, doing chores, and went inside for a drink.”
“And forgot to wipe your feet?”
Levi nodded. “And when Mama chased me with the broom, I told her she took God’s Word too seriously.”
Simon hid a grin. “I don’t get it.”
“Do you know the Bible, Doctor Thomas?”
“Not as well as I should,” he admitted, “but I can recite a verse or two.”
“I heard the bishop say once, ‘He that spareth his rod hateth his son, but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.’ That is from the book of Proverbs.”
“Uh-huh…”
“I asked Papa what it meant, and he said that parents who love their children cannot be afraid to punish them. So I told Mama, ‘A broom is not a rod, and besides, is mud on a clean floor really a beating offense’?”
Chuckling, Simon hid his eyes behind one hand. “Oh, wow, kiddo, you sure know how to pluck your parents’ nerves, don’t you?”
Levi met Simon’s glance and, blinking bright, innocent blue eyes, said, “It seems that way.” Another deep sigh, and then, “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure I can.”
Levi leaned closer and, looking left and right to make sure the “coast was clear,” whispered, “They were just looking for a reason to keep me home, if you ask me.”
“Oh?”
“They did not want me to go with you today.”
Simon had gotten the same impression.
“They are afraid, I think, that if I see too much of your world, I will not want to live Amish.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Simon reassured. “You’re a little young yet to make a decision that big.”
“I am old enough to know I would not like living English. This life is plain and simple, and I like it just fine.” He pursed his lips, as if searching his young mind for words to back up his statement. Instead, Levi said, “Maybe Miss Julia will go with you to visit the wolves.”
It was Simon’s turn to sigh. “That’s what I’d hoped. But she has gardening chores to catch up on.”
“Can you keep another secret?”
“You bet, kidd
o.”
“There is a bigger reason I am punished today. A better reason than dirtying a floor.” He clasped and unclasped his tiny hands. “Mama caught me eavesdropping, you see, and…and when she caught me at it, I fibbed.”
“Bummer,” Simon acknowledged, nodding sympathetically.
“Miss Julia was here, and I heard her tell Mama all about her life as a little girl.” He scratched his head. “Did you know her mother and father got rid of her when she was just three?”
Simon wanted to hear more. “Is that right…?”
“Just like the Englishers who drop cats and dogs from their automobiles to run free on our farm!”
“Sad, isn’t it, how cruel people can sometimes be.”
“Her grandmother and grandfather took care of her for a while, but only until some teacher in town decided that it was not good for Miss Julia to live with forgetful old people who could burn the house down.” Levi’s eyes filled with tears. “I do not know who is worse,” he said around a quivering lower lip, “the mama and papa who threw her away…or the Englishers who took her from her grandparents.”
Simon had said dozens of times that Levi had an old soul, and it never seemed truer than at this moment. That he could so completely grasp the gravity of the situation at his young age was amazing enough, all by itself. But for the boy to have put himself in Julia’s shoes? “You’re some kid, you know that?”
But Levi seemed not to have heard the compliment. “Poor, poor Miss Julia.” After knuckling his eyes, Levi drew his shirtsleeve across his nose and sniffed. “Good thing Seth is not here.”
“Why’s that?”
“He would call me a baby if he saw me sitting here crying.”
“That’s only because he’s a little jealous that you’re so wise and so sensitive.”
“I am sad for her. For Miss Julia, I mean.”
“Me, too,” Simon admitted.
“I can almost see her as a little girl, crying because she had no mother and no father, and then some mean lady she did not even know came to take her from the only people she did know and brought her to live with strangers.”
Memory of the photo Simon had seen in Julia’s powder room flashed in his mind…a tiny, pretty little thing in ruffly socks and hair bows…. It was enough to make even a grown man cry.
“I do not wish to live English,” Levi said quietly. “And I suppose parents only punish their children because they love them.”
“Definitely. Your mom and dad love you a ton. You’re one lucky kid.”
“Definitely,” Levi echoed. Then, “Do you know what I think?”
Simon grinned. “What do you think?”
“That you should marry her.”
The sudden conversation shift shocked Simon so badly, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Think so?”
“She needs a family,” he said, holding out one palm. “And you need a family,” he added, extending the other. “I am just a child, but even to me it seems like a good solution to both of your problems. And besides, you are both English. What could make more sense?”
Simon would have agreed without hesitation, would have jumped up and headed for her place, if he believed she’d agree, too.
Logic, common sense, caution, and reason combined to throw doubt on the idea. Nice as sharing his life with her could be, Simon didn’t have the foggiest notion of how to go about making it happen. Or if it should, for that matter, since he still wasn’t certain of God’s intent for the two of them.
“Well?” Levi said, interrupting his reverie.
“Do you think if I had a word with your folks, they’d change their minds? About your punishment, I mean?” He hoped that Levi’s powers of concentration weren’t as lax as his own and the abrupt change of subject would steer the boy in a different direction.
“Ha!” Levi said, cupping his chin in a palm. “Not a chance. No, I am in deep trouble this time. Up to my knees, as Papa would say.” He aimed a mischievous grin at Simon. “But thank you for wanting to try.”
“Hey, what’re friends for?” Simon got to his feet and ruffled Levi’s hair. “Maybe we’ll go to the sanctuary another time.”
“Maybe.” Levi stood, too, and mimicked Simon’s spread-legged stance. “Are we really friends, Doctor Thomas?”
“’Course we are. What a question!”
The boy’s smile lit up his whole face. “Thank you. I am honored.”
“Me, too.” And Simon meant it. On the day this delightful kid was born, he’d locked eyes with Simon the moment he drew his first breath…and smiled. Gas? Couldn’t have been when the baby hadn’t had a meal yet! Yes, Levi Simon Gunden had been a special kid right from the get-go. “Well, guess I’d better head out. Tell you what, I’ll take some pictures at the sanctuary and show ’em to you the next time I stop by.” Which would be soon, if Simon had anything to say about it.
“I would like that.” Levi took his place on the top step and, hugging his legs, buried his face between his knees. “I would like it very, very much.”
As he steered the pickup onto the highway, Simon had a feeling that, for days, he’d see that adorable face every time he blinked.
It had taken stubborn determination, but after a half hour of struggling, Julia managed to open the shed’s rusted padlock. Once inside, a look at shovels and rakes that weren’t in any better shape forced her into town to buy replacements. And the minute she unloaded her car’s trunk at home, Julia hauled every bucket and mud-caked garden glove from the ten-by-twelve-foot structure and gave it a thorough cleaning, right down to the eight-pane window on the back wall. Now, with huge sacks of bark mulch lined up along every garden bed, she set about the arduous task of removing years of thick weeds from around the foundation.
At noon, dirty, sweating, and exhausted, Julia headed inside for a quick sandwich and something cool to drink. She’d just sat down when the phone rang. It rang again a second time as she decided whether or not to answer, and by its third shrill peal, she grumbled an annoyed “Hello?” into the receiver.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
The breath caught in her throat as her heart hammered. “Simon,” she said, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. “How’ve you been?” She couldn’t help being happy to hear from him. And couldn’t help feeling bitter regret about what she had to tell him—the sooner, the better.
“Excellent. Just got back from the sanctuary. They’ve got a passel of cubs over there. You would’ve loved ’em….”
“Oh, wow, that’s right. Matt said last time that they’d be old enough to cuddle this week. So, tell me, are they fat and adorable?”
The delicious sound of his laughter filtered into her ear. “Yeah, guess you could call them fat and adorable…and not too happy with me right now.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone or anything not being overjoyed to spend time in his company. “Why not?”
“Exams, vaccinations, ear cleaning, worming…not pleasant stuff for little critters, especially wild ones.”
“Wish I could’ve been there.”
“Me, too.”
Had he read her comment to mean she’d wanted to see him? “I could’ve helped out,” she said, hoping to sound convincing.
“Oh. That. Yeah. An extra set of hands would have been useful.” She heard him clear his throat.
“So did you finish your yard work?”
“Good grief, no. Between rusting locks and rusting tools and a filthy shed, I’ve barely made a dent.”
“Bummer,” he said. “I was hoping you’d join me for lunch.”
The wall clock read 12:25. “I just took a break, as a matter of fact, and sat down for a good old-fashioned ham on rye when the phone rang.”
“Oh. Sorry,” he muttered. “Want me to let you go so you can eat?”
“Don’t be silly. I mean, it isn’t like you’re going to talk all afternoon, right?”
“Right. No. ’Course not.” He cleared his throat again. “So how about dinner, then? As I recall, you�
��ve still got that rain check to cash in….”
Everything in her wanted to scream, “What time should I be ready?” Instead Julia said, “I’m a filthy mess, with at least three hours’ work left to do outside….”
“Bummer,” he said again. “Guess you’ll have to take a rain check on that rain check, huh?”
“Or we could have dinner at seven or eight instead. I should be finished and reasonably presentable by then.” Julia wrapped the phone cord around her forefinger, wondering what on earth had prompted her to say that. Nothing even remotely like it had been in her mind. At least, not in her conscious mind.
“You’ve made my day.”
Suddenly, planting the bright yellow magnolias and red zinnias she’d splurged on at the nursery didn’t seem quite as important. Ditto for pulling the weeds. “I’ll leave the mowing for first thing tomorrow. That way if that beat-up old machine has sat idle for too long, I’ll have time to drive into Lancaster for a new one.”
“I have an extra one in my barn. It’s yours if you want it.”
“It’s awfully nice of you to offer, but—”
“You’ll be doing me a favor. It’s just in the way out there. I’ll throw it in the bed of my truck as soon as we hang up. Just remind me it’s back there when I get to your place, so I remember to off-load it for you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“At least let me pay you for it….”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Like I said, you’re doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.”
Her brain warned, You’re gonna think of him every time you use that mower, but her heart countered, Exactly, and won’t that be great!
His voice ended the argument. “See you at seven thirty, then?”
“Okay.”
“Good luck in the yard.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t want to hang up, and it appeared that neither did Simon.
“Careful not to overdo it.”
