Forever Hidden

by Tracie Peterson

  No one said a word. The pastor’s words sank deep into her heart. Peace wasn’t about her being able to accomplish tasks or do hard things that she didn’t like. It was about her contentment. Was she content with what God was doing in her? Was she content with just being John’s friend? Or whatever God had in store for her future? The questions made her swallow hard.

  Havyn’s mind went to all the times that she’d struggled with complaining—when she hadn’t rejoiced. When Whitney was a little too bossy, when Madysen forgot to do something . . . again. When Mama insisted they practice until it was perfect.

  Heavenly Father, I know I’m sorely lacking in rejoicing always. Would You please help me? I long to be content in every situation. To cast aside worry. To have Your peace. As we’re facing so many unknowns with Granddad, I need Your help to make this change in my life and for it to be a permanent one. And, Lord, could You please help our grandfather to heal? We need him. And we love him. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  As she lifted her head, everyone began to stand. It must be time for the last song. Whitney went to the piano and pounded out the introduction to the Doxology. It made Havyn smile.

  “‘Praise God, from whom all blessings flow . . .’” Havyn thought about the words for the first time in a long time.

  “‘Praise Him, all creatures here below . . .’” She smiled at the thought of her chickens. Maybe all that clucking was them praising God. Wouldn’t that be something?

  “‘Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.’”

  One of the men came to the front to give announcements of upcoming events and needs.

  While he spoke, a new feeling pressed on her heart. She bowed her head again. She might not have been complaining out loud about John, but she definitely had been in her mind. She’d been mad at God for allowing her to care for him, and then having him reject her. But why? John had done nothing but be nice to her. He’d asked her several times to talk and she’d brushed him off. Just because she wanted something more didn’t mean that God hadn’t blessed her with John’s friendship. Was that not good enough for her? If she didn’t get what she wanted, was she just going to throw away any connection with John?

  Lifting her chin, she risked glancing at him. He’d given up so much to help her family. Without a single complaint. It was time she put her selfishness aside and allowed herself to be John’s friend. Heavens, Whitney had even dropped the subject of the contract and thrown herself into helping with the sheep.

  Lord, help me to accept whatever You have for me. Even if it means just being John’s friend.

  With a new spring in her step, Havyn followed the others out of the row of chairs and benches and into the aisle. There was so much to be thankful for—so much to rejoice about.

  Judas Reynolds stopped them about halfway to the exit. “I’m so very sorry to hear that Chuck still isn’t up and about yet. I’ve instructed Dr. Kingston to let me know if there’s any special medication I can order. I’ll make sure to get it as swiftly as possible.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. That means a great deal to us.” This man had been so generous with them over the years. Another gift God had given them.

  “You’re most welcome. Your grandfather is a good friend. And we need your dairy to be fully operational. It’s a much-needed commodity in our fine town.”

  Whitney stepped forward and nodded at him. “We appreciate all you’ve done.”

  “How goes entering into the world of cheese making?” He tilted his head as they all moved toward the door.

  “Well, we haven’t started yet, but we will let you taste our first products. We have a long-term plan and need to learn and get it all in place.” John nodded at their friend.

  “Good, good. I’ll gladly take you up on that.” Tipping his hat, he nodded to each of them. “Have a lovely afternoon.”

  After they each spoke to the pastor, they loaded up into the wagon. Havyn hadn’t sat in the front with John for quite a while, but today, she climbed up, determined to stop wallowing. Madysen poked her head up into the front seat. “John, do you think you could teach us how to make cheese today?”

  He angled a look at Maddy. “Really? You’d like to try it this afternoon? But it’s Sunday.”

  “I know, but we’re so busy every other day. I think it would be fun.” Maddy gave him her best wide-eyed look. “Please?”

  John hesitated. “I’ve been reading up on making cheese from sheep’s milk, but I’m not sure I feel confident enough about it yet.”

  “Then why don’t you teach us how to make mozzarella first? You said you could make it in your sleep, right?” Havyn put all her pride and doubts aside and shot a smile his way.

  He looked at her for several moments.

  Havyn nudged him. “It would be fun to all be together, not worried about everything else.”

  He shrugged and then smiled. “I’m up for it, if all of you are.”

  Havyn looked back at her two sisters. “Whit?”

  “It actually sounds like fun. And wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for Mama? Granddad loves cheese too . . . I wonder if he would like it?”

  Maddy clapped her hands. “All right, then. Let’s do it.” She leaned back and started up a conversation with Whit about the sheep.

  Havyn’s gaze went back to John.

  He was still staring at her.

  “What?” Did she have something on her face? She swiped at her cheek.

  “I was beginning to think that you didn’t like me anymore. It’s nice to see you smile.”

  Had she been that horrible to him? “I’m sorry, John.” What could she say? The truth was the best . . . but how did she do that without giving away how she felt? “I think I was just wrestling with something and I wasn’t listening to God.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve worked it out. Because I’ve missed you.” The way he looked at her sent a shiver skittering up her arms.

  Oh, if only he meant it the way she wished. Because that one simple phrase from him made her face the facts.

  She was in love with John Roselli.

  Twenty

  John tied an apron around his waist as Whitney, Havyn, and Madysen gathered everything he asked for. They had met in the kitchen after a hearty lunch and decided to surprise Mrs. Powell and Chuck with their first collaboration. That is . . . if it turned out. It had been years since he’d made mozzarella.

  Sending a quick prayer heavenward, he picked up the bucket at his feet. “All right. I’ve got a bucket of fresh milk here, with the cream skimmed off. We should be able to make some fine cheese out of this.”

  Out of the three sisters, Whitney looked the most skeptical. No surprise there.

  Hopefully, today would help her to see that he wanted the farm to thrive. And not so he could steal it away. When Havyn softened toward him after church, hope sprang back to life. Not that he wanted to rush into anything—he’d have to tread carefully. But it was good to see all three sisters smiling at him. At least for the moment.

  Oh well. Best to just get started. “All right, I need you to put this milk in that big pot over there and bring it to a temperature where it feels warm to the touch.”

  Whitney surprised him when she was the one who started.

  Havyn looked to him. “What do you want us to do?”

  He handed her a small glass filled with rennet and water. “Mix this up. When Whitney says the milk is warm, have her take it off the heat and then you add this mixture.”

  “I can handle that.” Havyn gave him a broad smile.

  Was he seeing things? He could swear that was a special smile just for him. No, best not to get his hopes up.

  No matter how much he wanted to.

  Madysen poked him in the shoulder. “All right, what next?”

  “After Havyn adds her part, we’re going to wait several minutes. At least five. If it looks like it’s set up, then I want you to cut it up in the pot.”

  “Seriously? You w
ant me to cut milk?” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not dense, I’ll have you know, John Roselli.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not teasing. Just watch.”

  “All right.” Her tone of voice made it clear she didn’t get it.

  Havyn giggled. “Three redheads in the kitchen . . . and you trying to teach us? Oh my, this is going to be interesting.”

  “Hey, I’ve got this under control. In fact, if the first batch goes well, then I will expect you all to work on your own batches at the same time. Imagine if we could get that much cheese made in under an hour.”

  “Hey, you’re on.” This from Whitney, at the stove. “If it’s this easy, I think we can handle it.” She stuck her finger in the milk. “This is ready.” She moved the pot from the stove to the worktable.

  Havyn poured in her mixture. Whitney and Madysen gathered around and watched the pot.

  “It’s not going to happen in seconds. Give it a few minutes.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as he watched them. The clock on a shelf above the stove ticked. “Normally, you’ll be working with other curds while you wait for this process. So I promise, it won’t be this boring next time.”

  The girls all quirked an eyebrow at him, and he laughed. “Did you ladies practice that look?”

  When they glanced at each other, they burst into laughter too. Havyn lifted a finger. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go sing a song for Granddad? That would take up the rest of the time.”

  They scurried out of the room, and John heard the refrains of “O God, Our Help in Ages Past.” The harmony was impeccable, as usual, and he hummed along. He checked on the pot—the curds were coagulating. Just like they were supposed to. Thank goodness! It wasn’t like he had a recipe written down. All he had to go on was his memory.

  Hurried footsteps sounded down the hall, and the sisters rushed back into the room.

  Whitney peered into the pot, then turned a wide-eyed gaze on her sisters. “Well, would you look at that!”

  Madysen picked up the knife and started cutting the contents of the pot.

  “Make sure you cut all the way through it. But don’t make the pieces too small.” John watched from the other side of the worktable.

  Whitney looked up. “What’s next?”

  “Put the pot back on the stove and stir it every so often as we heat it up a little bit more. Until it’s hot to the touch, but not burning.”

  With a serious nod, she took the pot back to the stove. All three girls hovered over the pot.

  Madysen gave a little squeal. “It’s ready!”

  “All right, move the pot back over here to the worktable and let it sit another few minutes.”

  Havyn looked at her sisters and they all scurried out of the room.

  This time, they sang “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.” As it soared to the rafters, John closed his eyes, savoring the sound.

  “‘He breaks the power of canceled sin, He sets the prisoner free; His blood can make the foulest clean; His blood availed for me.’”

  Laughter and footsteps headed toward him again.

  He lifted the sieve they’d gotten out and handed it to Havyn. “Your turn. Hold this over this other pot here while Whitney and Madysen scoop the curds into the sieve. Make sure you keep it over the pot, because it will drain more whey off it as they add the rest.”

  With a nod, Havyn took her position. The other two grabbed wooden spoons and started lifting the curds out of the whey. When they were all done, three pairs of brown eyes stared at him, awaiting the next step.

  “Whitney, take that other pot that’s filled with water and bring it to just under a boil. But don’t let it boil.”

  She nodded and went to it.

  “Havyn, you keep holding the sieve over the whey, while Madysen squeezes any excess whey out of the curds and presses them together to form a clump.”

  The younger two worked together, and pretty soon a roundish clump of curds sat in the sieve.

  Whitney turned to look at him. “The water’s ready.”

  “Bring it over here. Gently lower the curd into the water, and we’re going to let it sit for a couple minutes. But this time, don’t leave. This will go fast.”

  They all nodded and watched the ball that sat in the water.

  John watched the clock. Then he went over to the pot and used a large spoon to scoop the curd out. It was quite hot to the touch, which meant it was about right.

  He took a small bowl of salt and looked at the girls. “Now you need to rub about a teaspoon of salt over this ball of cheese and start folding it over itself, stretching it, and keeping it warm. Why don’t each of you try it.”

  They passed it back and forth between them, while John went to the icebox for a piece of ice.

  “Does it feel smooth and elastic?” He took the ice and put it in a bowl of water.

  Havyn had it in her hands at the moment. “Hmm . . . maybe not yet?” She passed it back to Whitney. Then it went to Madysen.

  After folding it a few more times and reshaping it, she held it up and examined it. “I think we did it!”

  John took the ball of cheese from her and smiled. “Job well done. Look. It’s beautiful.” He took the cheese and plunged it into the bowl of cold water.

  “Can we taste it?” Whitney looked even more excited than the other two. Which was saying a lot. Anticipation seemed to sizzle in the room.

  John grinned. “It just needs to sit for a few minutes. So why don’t we clean up and get ready to make some more?”

  The women scurried around and prepared to start again.

  It didn’t take long for everything to be ready. John pulled the cheese out and placed it on a wooden board. He took a knife, sliced off four pieces, and then sliced the rest.

  The room was silent as everyone took a bite.

  As soon as he popped his piece into his mouth, the familiar flavor filled his senses, and he was transported back to Italy. It was just as he remembered. Even better, actually.

  “That is the best thing I think I’ve ever tasted!”

  John looked at Whitney. Did she just compliment him?

  She clapped her hands. “Let’s do it again.”

  “Mmhmm . . . yum.” Madysen snagged another piece.

  Havyn’s face captured his attention. “Amazing. I can’t believe we made this. And in so little time.”

  “You like it?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I love it.” She turned to her sisters. “Let’s get some more pots. We can each make our own batch this time. This is going to be a hit in town, so we better make a lot!”

  Laughing at their exuberance, John looked around the kitchen. “Hey . . . I tell you what, you ladies make more cheese, and I’ll get the ingredients together to make my mother’s lasagna for dinner.”

  “Lasagna?”

  “Lasagna?”

  “Lasagna?”

  Their different pitches made the word sound funny.

  “Don’t worry. It’s got lots of that cheese in it. You’ll love it.”

  Melissa sat at the table with her girls for the first time in weeks. John had offered to sit with Papa while she ate with her daughters. That young man was so generous.

  The last few days she’d been so weary. And this niggling cough seemed to be getting worse. She’d have to talk to Dr. Kingston about it. He was supposed to come back tomorrow. Maybe some tea with honey would help for now.

  She took another bite of the delicious Italian dish John had made. She wanted to savor and enjoy this time with her girls. They’d been regaling her with the stories of the sheep herding, and then the cheese making this afternoon. They finished each other’s sentences and kept the storytelling going for the better part of an hour.

  Oh, how wonderful to sit here and smile and laugh with these beautiful blessings God had given her. If only Christopher could have seen them grow up into the strong women they were. Life with him had been pretty miserable, but she chose to think about the happy tim
es.

  “Mama?” Whitney’s voice grabbed her attention.

  “Hmm? I’m sorry, my mind wandered for a moment.”

  “I was asking what you thought of John’s lasagna.”

  “Goodness, wasn’t that about the best thing you’ve ever eaten?” She pressed her napkin to her lips. “And that cheese. I’m so glad you all know how to make it now, because I think I could eat that on almost everything.”

  “Me too!” Havyn agreed from across the table. “It’s divine.”

  “I have to admit that was pretty incredible. And I enjoyed the process too.” Whitney took a drink of her water.

  Melissa tilted her head and looked at her eldest. “It appears you’ve softened a bit toward our foreman?”

  She peered over her glass. “Oh, I haven’t been that bad, have I?”

  Madysen and Havyn tossed their napkins at their sibling.

  “All right, so maybe I’ve been a little tough on him. But this is Granddad’s farm we’re talking about.”

  Her girls all shared a look. Whatever it meant, it was good to see Whitney letting go a bit. She’d had such a tough time since Christopher died. Building that hard little shell around her and seeking to protect her sisters at all costs. Melissa often prayed for a way to help Whitney, but the last thing her eldest needed was her mother trying to fix her. Because she didn’t need fixing. She just needed to forgive.

  The clock in the other room chimed. “Well, I better help get this cleaned up so I can get back to your grandfather.”

  “Not so fast.” Madysen came over to her chair. “We want to play some music with you. It’s been far too long since you’ve been in here, and we all know that you need it for the soothing of your soul.”

  “And we will clean up the kitchen, so don’t even think about arguing with us.” Havyn walked over to her.

  After a few minutes of being at the piano, Melissa had tears in her eyes. Oh, how she’d missed this. Whitney slid next to her on the bench and they played a duet. Havyn started singing the song they’d written together, and pretty soon they were all singing along. Their voices blended like only family could.

  Then a tickle started in her throat. It built until she couldn’t swallow it down any longer.