The Stone Wall

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The Stone Wall Page 6

by Beverly Lewis


  Anna laughed. “That’s two of us.”

  Riley’s grandmother raised her white eyebrows and gave her granddaughter a playful poke. “We should go there first,” the woman said, trading a smile with her.

  Apparently Mart overheard them, as he interjected, “Just wait till you taste their new flavors!”

  Riley’s cute face broke into a grin, her big eyes dancing.

  Once they were settled in the Browns’ spacious minivan, Riley’s grandmother mentioned that she had her heart set on purchasing a sunbonnet.

  Mart promptly added Good’s Store in Quarryville to the tour stops, saying he was happy to make their time together everything they hoped for. “Today you’re going to see things you’ve probably never seen before,” he told them.

  As the day progressed, the grandmother asked Mart numerous questions about Amish customs, and his patient, good-natured responses made Anna appreciate him all the more.

  In the back seat beside Anna, Riley asked occasional questions of her own, and Anna was relieved to know the answers. The girl was particularly curious about the dolls she’d seen in an Amish picture book. “Why don’t they have faces?” she asked.

  “Well, most Amish don’t give their dolls faces because they believe it’s against one of the Ten Commandments.”

  Riley pressed her pointer finger into her cheek and frowned. “The second one, right?”

  “Yes . . . about not making an image.”

  Riley seemed to ponder that. “So is that why they don’t want their pictures taken, either?”

  “That’s exactly why.” Anna nodded. “Even though I’m not Old Order Amish, I’ve made those little dolls for myself. But I’ve never used a book pattern—just created my own. I do that for my clothes, too, just like traditional Amish.”

  Riley listened, her eyes wide. “Must be hard.”

  “My Mamm taught me when I was around your age, so I’ve had plenty of practice. She works her fingers nearly stiff with all the sewing she does for the family, and for other folk, too.” Anna explained that her Mamm kept a large wooden box full of fabric scraps. “There was always plenty of material for the small dolls I liked to make when I was younger.”

  “Did you ever sell them?”

  “I liked to give them away, actually, but sometimes in the summer, I’d put a basketful of them out on our roadside vegetable stand, and tourists would offer to pay for them. Whatever they wanted to give was fine with me.”

  “You’re so nice, Anna.” Riley smiled up at her.

  “And you’re very sweet,” Anna replied.

  Riley asked her then why her head covering was different from those of the other Amish she’d seen today.

  “You have a sharp eye.”

  “Thanks!” The little girl leaned closer to whisper, “I want to be a fashion designer when I grow up.”

  “Well then, you might be learning to make patterns of your own someday,” Anna said. “The reason for our different Kapp styles is that each Plain community has a unique head covering. If you pay careful attention when you leave Lancaster County, you’ll find you won’t see another style of prayer cap exactly like the heart-shaped ones around here.”

  Riley took this in, looking quite serious. “Oh, that’s cool.”

  Anna smiled and remembered how, at that age, she, too, had often imagined what her life as a grown-up would be like. But because the Beachy Amishwomen she’d known rarely pursued careers, the desire of her heart had been—and still was—to be a loving wife and mother to many children. Like Mamm . . .

  As they began to head back in the direction of the information center, Anna noticed a large farm ahead, where a stone wall separated a horse paddock from a green meadow. The wall’s gray weathered stones looked striking in the noontime sun, and she observed an arched wrought iron sign over the entrance: Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat.

  Riley must have noticed it, too, because she announced, “Daddy, look at that ginormous horse farm!” craning her neck to see as they passed the turn into the place.

  “Someone sure likes horses.” Mart glanced over his shoulder from where he sat up front with Mr. Brown.

  Riley nodded her head and grinned. “Can we please stop there, Daddy?”

  Mart deferred to Mr. Brown in the driver’s seat.

  “Maybe later, honey,” her father said, explaining that they had lunch reservations coming up soon.

  Like Riley, Anna was fascinated by the place and wondered why it was called a retreat. Quickly, she checked her phone for information. Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat, she read silently, offers horseback riding therapy and is owned by an Amish family whose mission is to offer hope to special needs people from infants to adults. There were multiple glowing reviews from parents whose children had been helped by the therapeutic program, as well as comments from volunteers.

  I should look into this for future clients, she decided.

  After work that afternoon, Anna drove back to the horse therapy farm. Entering the long lane from the main road, she came upon what looked at first like a campground retreat, with a high hedge growing on either side and an old stone wall running along the base of the paddock to the south, dividing it from the pastureland. No horses or people were in sight.

  She parked and made her way past the cow barn to a large horse stable. Finding that it, too, was empty, she assumed the horses must be grazing in the meadow and meandered around the side of the building. A brawny blond Amishman wearing a short-sleeved gray shirt and black suspenders, his straw hat pushed down hard on his head, was briskly walking her way, his eyes cast to the ground.

  “Hello,” she said, not even sure he realized she was standing there.

  When he lifted his eyes and saw her, he frowned momentarily. “Lookin’ for someone?” he asked, as if he thought she were lost.

  “Saw the sign out front and was just curious about this farm. I noticed your website says you offer horseback riding therapy.”

  “Jah, that’s what we do here.” He continued to scrutinize her, running his hand across his closely cropped blond beard. “My uncle owns the place. It’s my job to keep things running . . . hopefully smoothly.”

  “My father breeds ponies, but I’ve never heard of therapy using horses.”

  “So, you’re a fellow horse person.” He paused. “Ach, I should introduce myself. My name’s Gabe Allgyer.” He stepped forward to shake her hand.

  “I’m Anna Beachy.”

  Gabe nodded, a glimmer in his blue eyes. “I’ve heard the Beachy name before. Plenty of ’em round here, but you’re from around Mifflinburg, ain’t?”

  She was surprised. “How did you know?”

  “Your Kapp’s like the one the womenfolk up there wear, jah? I used to make some deliveries there, back before my wife passed away.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Anna said, thinking how very young he was to be a widower.

  “Denki . . . it’s been two years already,” he said solemnly, eyeing her Kapp again.

  She reached up to touch it.

  “What brings ya to Lancaster County?” he asked, his gaze friendlier now.

  “Well, I’ve taken a part-time job working as a tour guide.” She looked toward the far meadow, where she could see a palomino, a half dozen chestnut quarter horses, and a black pony grazing. The pony whinnied, bobbing its head up and down. “It’s so beautiful here,” she breathed, hoping Gabe wouldn’t rush her off.

  “A tour guide,” he said quietly. “Where at?”

  She told him and he nodded, saying that he knew several people who worked there. “Helen Weber, for one. She’s the receptionist, so I’m sure you’ve met her.”

  “Jah. What a small world.” Anna wished he would tell her more about how riding therapy worked, so she asked.

  An expression of curiosity crossed his face. “Do ya know someone who could benefit from our program?”

  “No,” she said. “I just love horses and find the idea of using them to help people really fascinating.”
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br />   Gabe seemed eager now to tell her more about the different programs available at the retreat for different needs. “For instance, a child who’s never walked can experience the feeling of walking while ridin’ a horse.” He went on to talk about the confidence this therapy could give to a child or teenager with a disability. “And things like learning to groom or lead a horse can help improve hand-eye coordination.”

  As he talked more about some of the children they had helped, or how often a typical patient visited, Anna felt herself growing more and more impressed.

  “Listen to me, though, goin’ on and on,” Gabe said, removing his hat and revealing more of his tanned and handsome face.

  She smiled. “It’s obvious you’re excited about what you’re doing.”

  “It’s what gets my boots on in the morning,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, if I can answer any other questions, just give me a holler.” He removed a business card from his wallet and gave it to her. “Leave a message at the phone shed.” He pointed to a narrow wooden structure standing in the middle of the hayfield.

  “Denki for your time,” Anna said, accepting the card and yet another firm handshake from Gabe. Then, making her way back to the car, she smiled at having stumbled onto something so wonderful.

  She opened her car door and was about to get in when she heard rapid footsteps. Turning, she saw Gabe waving her down. “Did I forget something?” she asked, leaning on her car door.

  “Nee, I just wanted to say . . . if you’d like to observe one of the classes we offer, you’re certainly welcome to return on a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday. Sessions start at nine o’clock, but if you want to come before a session, that would be fine, too. Just come on over to the stable.” Gabe gave her a quick grin.

  “I might do that,” she said, very much liking the idea. “I’m off on Saturdays.”

  “All right, then, I’ll be seein’ ya, Anna Beachy.”

  She nodded, smiling to herself as she got into the car and drove away.

  Chapter 10

  While at work the next morning, Anna learned from Evelyn that today she would be going on a car tour with a different guide—a young Mennonite woman named Charlotte Meck. “You’ll have the opportunity to see how another guide handles tours, as well as where she takes clients and what information she shares about local Amish culture,” Evelyn told her.

  Anna was grateful for the chance to observe Charlotte, whom she got acquainted with in the break room before setting out. The young woman’s face shone when she told Anna that she had just become engaged.

  “How wonderful!” Anna said. “Congratulations.”

  “Austin’s just the man for me . . . handpicked by God, I like to say.”

  Anna smiled at that. “You must feel blessed.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I couldn’t be happier.” She asked about Anna’s day yesterday and what stops they’d made on the tour, and Anna recalled most of them from memory.

  “Good for you!” Charlotte said. “Well, today you’ll get to meet a charming middle-aged couple from England.” Her light brown eyes sparkled with obvious anticipation. “I actually took them on a tour last October, and now they’re back for more. If you do this long enough, you’ll discover that some people will specifically request you, once they get to know you. Since we customize tours, we have a fair number of repeat customers.”

  “I like that idea.” Anna enjoyed talking with Charlotte, who was just as friendly as Martin. And thinking of Mart, Anna realized she had not seen him yet today.

  He must already be out on a tour, she assumed.

  After Sadie had served the noon meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes to Glen and thoroughly redded up the kitchen, she walked out to the little wooden phone shed to check for any voice messages. She was surprised but pleased to discover one from Rachel Beachy, Anna’s mother.

  “Hello, Cousin Sadie,” Rachel’s voice came over the recording. “I thought I’d call to see how our daughter’s getting along there. No hurry, but when you have a few minutes, would you return my call? You have our number.”

  Sadie clicked off and searched for Alvin and Rachel’s number on the paper chart thumbtacked to the bulletin board on the wall near the telephone. The last names were listed in alphabetical order, so it was easy to spot Beachy. “I’ll call her now, since I’m here,” Sadie murmured, suspecting her cousin was missing her daughter. I’d miss Anna, too, if she were mine. . . .

  Sadie dialed the number and recalled that her rather modern Mifflinburg cousins had a phone or two inside their house. Must be convenient come winter, she thought, though she tried not to covet that for herself.

  Her cousin answered, “Rachel Beachy speaking.”

  “Hullo, Rachel. I heard your message. Everything all right there?”

  “Oh jah . . . just hoping Anna’s doing okay, getting settled in.”

  “She’s fine, from what I can tell.” Sadie mentioned that Anna had attended both Sunday morning and evening services at a nearby Beachy Amish church. “And she’s talkin’ of going tonight to Bible study, too.”

  “Good to know,” Rachel said, then sighed. “Honestly, it’s too quiet around here. We’re already missing our girl.”

  “I imagine you are, but I s’pect she’ll want to visit yous from time to time.”

  “And we’ll be happy to have her, believe me.”

  “I remember how tough it can be when a daughter first moves away,” Sadie said, hoping to soothe Rachel’s qualms. “You’ve raised a real sweet young woman.”

  “I hope she can be some help to ya there.” Rachel paused a moment. “We pray daily for the Lord’s hand on her life.”

  Sadie caught herself nodding. Cousin Rachel sometimes talked so freely about the Lord God and what she believed He was doing in folks’ lives; Sadie rather liked that about her.

  “Denki again for taking Anna in and looking out for her. Alvin will be sending a check soon.”

  “Ach, ya mustn’t.”

  “Nee, it’s already been decided.”

  Recalling Rachel’s way of insisting when her mind was set on something, Sadie had to smile.

  “Of course, once Anna starts getting a paycheck, she’ll be responsible to pay her way,” Rachel said, that determined tone still in her voice.

  “Maybe Glen and Alvin should discuss this,” Sadie suggested, wanting to stay out of it.

  “All right, then. I’ll have Alvin contact him.”

  They said good-bye and hung up.

  “Rachel Beachy sure knows her own mind,” Sadie whispered, opening the wooden door to the phone shack to head home.

  Anna was just heading out to her car in the parking lot at the information center when Mart pulled up. He got out and waved to her. “I was hoping to see you, Anna.” He came over. “How’d it go with Charlotte?”

  “Wonderful. Her style is different than yours, but I really enjoyed the tour. I learned a lot from her, too.” Anna went on to say how delightful the British couple had been, sharing some of their customs, including the various times the English took tea during the day. “I didn’t let on that I prefer coffee.” She laughed.

  “Right?” Mart nodded, chuckling.

  The wind whipped up, and Anna placed her hand on her Kapp to secure it. The sun had disappeared behind a large cloud, and the scent of rain was in the air.

  Mart glanced at the darkening sky, then at her. “I was wondering, would you like to have supper with me at Miller’s Smorgasbord tomorrow evening?”

  She smiled, glad he was welcoming her in this way—a good opportunity to get further insights into local spots of interest to tourists. “That would be nice, sure.” She offered to meet him at the restaurant, and he agreed. Best to drive separately since we’re merely co-workers, she thought, not wanting to give him the impression she was reading too much into his invitation.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Mart said, then arranged for a time to meet. “It will be great to get to know you better, Anna.”

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bsp; She smiled again, still holding on to her Kapp in the gusty wind. “Denki for inviting me.”

  After an early supper, Anna left in a heavy rain for Bible study at church. There, while the rain pattered against the church windows, she sat with two sisters, Heidi and Eleanor Denlinger, who said their aunt owned a candle store in Kitchen Kettle Village. They invited her to drop by the shop sometime, indicating they could give tourists a short tour. Anna made a mental note to visit soon, although she knew this particular candle shop was not on the list of suggestions the information center had provided. Even so, she liked Heidi and Eleanor and looked forward to going to a party with them after Sunday night church. Heidi, the more outgoing of the two, hinted that she would introduce Anna to their brother, Lester, at the get-together open to courting-age youth.

  Anna’s response stuck in her throat—she hadn’t anticipated being set up. When it rains, it pours, she thought, then chided herself. She did want to meet solid Christian young men, so she finally agreed to go along with Heidi’s wishes even though Mart had invited her out for supper tomorrow night. Anna would continue to pray earnestly for God to lead her in the right direction.

  Momentarily, she thought of Atley Brenneman. No more unpleasant surprises for me! And no regrets, either!

  Chapter 11

  Outside the redbrick two-story entrance, Miller’s Smorgasbord was crowded, with patrons waiting.

  Anna spotted Mart standing off to the side, and when she caught his eye, he smiled and walked toward her. “Hi,” she said, glad she’d worn one of her best royal blue dresses, because even without a necktie, he looked to be dressed for church, too.

  “Nice to see you again, Anna,” he greeted her. “I hope the traffic wasn’t too congested.”

  “Oh, just the last few miles on the Lincoln Highway.”

  “An extra traffic lane would really help. Motorists have complained about that for years.” Mart suggested they go inside to the air-conditioned lobby and wait for their number to be announced over the intercom, as he had already put his name in for a table for two.

 

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