by Ruth Reid
“Here it is.” She picked up his hat and handed it to him.
“What’s that you’re holding? A rock?” Another brisk breeze threatened to take his hat away again, but he smashed it against his head. “Kumm mitt mich,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We can find shelter in the woods.” Once they were under a large beechnut tree, he stopped. Looking at her hand, he asked, “You collect rocks?”
She opened her hand and smiled at the brilliant stone. “Do you like it?”
“Ach, a priceless gem.”
“You see the gem too?” She wasn’t crazy after all.
Andrew winced, obviously unable to give an honest reply.
“So you don’t see it.” She moved past him. Again she’d made a fool of herself.
He caught her arm, and the rock dropped from her hand. “What’s wrong?”
She turned, jerked her arm from his hand, and leaned against the tree with her face hidden in the crook of her elbow. Maybe she was losing her mind. If he saw the rock the way she did, he would’ve commented on its glow.
God, why do I feel like I’m teetering on insanity?
He patted her shoulder and leaned closer. “Tell me what I said wrong.”
Judith turned, and his hand dropped from her shoulder. “It isn’t you.”
He scratched the back of his neck and glanced at her sideways. “Will you drauwa mich to be your friend?”
Despite the concerned look in his eyes, she didn’t dare trust anyone. Not after what Levi had done. Protecting her when Levi was around was one thing, but Levi wasn’t in the woods with them. Andrew didn’t have to smother her with his friendship.
When she didn’t answer, he shifted his weight. “When you showed me the rock, what did you want me to see?”
She lowered her head, pinning her chin to her chest. “Don’t ask.”
He moved closer, brushing his shoulder against hers as he leaned forward. “I believe you’ve seen an angel,” he whispered.
Judith raised her head and studied him hard. His eyes didn’t blink, and his lips didn’t turn into a smirk. He squared his thick shoulders, startling her with how handsome he looked. “You do? You believe me?”
He made a stiff nod. “Jah, Ich do.”
She wanted to believe him. Andrew’s patience melted her heart, but she couldn’t construe it as anything but simple kindness. Why would he believe when he was unable to see Tobias?
He broke the silence. “I’d like to hear about him.”
She shook her head. “It would only get you in trouble.”
“Then I’d be in gut company.”
He grinned as if he knew the sight of his dimples would soften her attitude. And it almost did. She warned herself to guard her heart. Why would the bishop’s son want to be in the company of someone like her?
“Did he have wings?”
“I was beginning to like you, and nau you’re making this into a joke. Levi would ask if he’s chubby and wears a halo. I suppose you—”
“I’m not anything like Levi.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and shook his head slowly. “I don’t remember hearing Levi say he believed you.”
Judith closed her eyes. Andrew was right. Levi never even tried to believe her. He was harsh, judgmental . . . and all the things Andrew was not.
God, please forgive me.
Judith opened her eyes and saw that Andrew had silently slipped off. She jogged to catch him.
“He didn’t have wings,” she said.
He glanced at her and kept walking. “Asking if he had wings wasn’t unreasonable. Have you read Ezekiel lately?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were—”
Andrew stopped. “I won’t ask why you put up with Levi mocking you. But I’m not like Levi.” He continued walking.
Chapter Fourteen
Thoughts of marriage hadn’t crossed Andrew’s mind in three years, but last night he couldn’t dismiss the idea of what it would be like. He woke in a cold sweat.
Esther was dead.
Why had his dreams of the cabin returned?
He glided the sandpaper block along the wood grain of the table leg. He’d come out to the workshop prior to daybreak, but he found no peace. His busy hands couldn’t divert his mind’s commotion.
Instead of closing up the cabin, he should have sold it.
But he couldn’t clutter his mind with the past. Nor could he bear to ask God again why His prompting to purchase the cabin came when Andrew knew Esther was dying. He built false hope believing for a miracle. He had planned to drive Esther to see the cabin the day she died.
He should have sold it.
Andrew worked the raw edge off the spindled wood, blew off the powdered dust, and stepped back to admire the placement of oak knots. The natural beauty of the sanded piece reminded him of Judith. Once God’s love smoothed out her hurt and defensive pride, her heart would radiate.
Levi was a fool not to recognize her beauty.
Last night Andrew had drifted to sleep thinking about her, then his dreams shifted to the cabin. It practically glowed. A warm fire in the fireplace and the laughter of children filled the room.
God, I don’t understand. Those dreams died when Esther died. Why do they haunt me now?
Perhaps the time had come to sell the cabin. But as he glanced around the workshop, he compiled a mental tally of his expected income once the unfinished projects were completed and delivered. The money would be enough to do the necessary renovations.
His mind continued to teeter until finally he shook his head. His customer orders had backed up while he spent more time than anticipated helping the Fischers with barn chores. He had to focus.
Besides, he hadn’t stepped foot inside the cabin in three years. How could he possibly predict the cost of the needed repairs? He wouldn’t go against his teachings and become mired in debt. Not for a cabin he didn’t want to live in.
Andrew returned to sanding the furniture and worked with renewed energy to finish the job. Those thoughts were too dangerous to ponder any longer.
He stayed focused on the projects until his stiff back reminded him he’d been bent over most of the day. He swatted the sawdust off his pant legs and stood to arch his back. Tomorrow he’d apply the wood oil, and by the end of the week, after the last coat of lacquer had dried, he’d deliver the dining room set to the Watsons.
The sun hung low in the sky when he pushed open the workshop door and went outside. He pumped the well handle for water to wash his hands and face. His thoughts drifted to Judith and how startled she had looked when he insisted he wasn’t anything like Levi. He should have restrained his tone; she was already upset with him.
It was that stupid rock that started the problem. The limited light in the woods hadn’t provided the best view. Its spots and discoloration were caused from iron deposits, but she held on to it like it meant something special. He’d never seen her eyes sparkle as brightly as when he called it a gem.
Andrew bent over the stream of water with cupped hands. Splashing his face with the cold water awakened his memory. He jerked upright. She wasn’t holding the rock on the path. When she tried to bolt from him in the woods and he caught her arm, she must have dropped it. He rubbed his wet face against his shirtsleeve. If it hadn’t meant something to her, she wouldn’t have shown it to him. Her eyes wouldn’t have held that sparkle.
The back door opened and his mother stepped outside. “Your father and I are going to the Fischers’ haus to visit. Bless God, Samuel is kumming home tonight.”
Andrew’s attention perked up. “I’ll harness the buggy.” He wiped his wet hands on the sides of his pants and dashed to the barn. He looked forward to seeing Samuel. The boy must be excited to get back home.
Andrew rolled the buggy out from under the lean-to connected to the barn. As he did, he caught sight of the courting buggy collecting dust. It was waiting on him, the last of the Lapp boys. Eight brothers had courted their wives in the two-seat open-air relic. He had anticipate
d doing the same. A lump formed in his throat. The buggy had sat idle since he parked it after the day he took Esther for a ride—their only ride.
Andrew climbed over the plow blade to reach the stored buggy. He swept his hand over the seat cushion, removing a layer of dirt as the dust rose up. After years of nonuse, the wheel axles would need oiling. The aged vinyl on the seat cushion was cracked and in need of conditioning, but Andrew was confident he could make the old buggy shine once more.
Perhaps if he convinced Judith to take a drive with him, she wouldn’t hurt so badly over Levi’s betrayal. His heart raced. He took a breath and reminded himself the drive was to help Judith overcome her hurt—nothing more.
He glanced at the house and noticed his mother holding a baking dish with a dishcloth draped over it. He hurried into the stall and led Patsy outside to harness the mare. Then he brought the buggy up to the house.
His mother stepped off the porch and handed him what smelled like shoofly pie. “We won’t be gone long,” she told him.
His father came out from the house and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Would it be all right if I rode along?” Andrew asked. “I’d like to see Samuel too.”
His father nodded. “We aren’t staying late.”
Andrew climbed into the backseat. He hoped they stayed long enough to get a slice of his mother’s pie. His mouth watered for a taste of molasses. Although knowing his mother, she would have set one aside for him at home. To his embarrassment, his mother tended to dote on him, the last of her sons to remain home. She made no qualms about not nudging him out of the nest.
His father made a clicking noise, and the buggy lurched forward. “I saw you inspecting the courting buggy.”
His tone of approval didn’t surprise Andrew. He’d made it clear when Andrew turned seventeen that he expected his son to actively pursue finding someone to marry and fill a house with obedient children who served the church and God.
“It needs work,” was all Andrew dared to admit. It’d be foolish to mention his thoughts of taking Judith for a ride. His father had stated adamantly that he wouldn’t allow her “angel babble” to divide his district.
“Is that shoofly pie, Mamm?” Andrew asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.
“It is, and there’s one for you at home cooling on the counter.”
“You coddle the boy, Mary.” His father’s tone indicated there was more to his speech. “He’s twenty-two years old. The boy should be a man.”
Andrew knew what his statement implied. In his father’s eyes, a boy didn’t become a man until he was married and could accept his ministry responsibility.
“Nau, Zechariah, you were not interested in courting either, when you were seventeen.” His mother failed to add that they had three sons by the time his father reached twenty-three. Andrew had none and no prospect of marriage.
“The boy’s not seventeen.”
Andrew hoped his mother would let it go. He would always be the son who disappointed his father until the day he joined the church, married. Most nights he prayed that God would release his burden of striving against his father’s wishes. After Esther passed away, his father had encouraged him to find a mate. When he declined his father’s choice of a baptized woman to wed, Andrew was charged with disobedience. And even though the charges were not formally made before the church, Andrew felt his father’s disapproval.
The district’s stagnant growth was a curse, but Andrew’s eight brothers had done their part in contributing to the community development. His eldest brother’s wife was pregnant with their sixth child.
The horse’s hooves clapped the pavement, and Andrew gazed out the opening of the buggy. He wondered if the bishops in other districts pressured their youth to marry without being in love. Marry to populate their community, to ensure that the traditions of the Old Order church would continue.
As they pulled into the Fischers’ drive, Andrew was determined to ask Judith to attend Sunday’s youth singing. That was, if he could convince her that she wasn’t still angry with him. His hands moistened. Convincing her to trust him would take work. It would take boldness. He drew a deep breath and rubbed his hands against his pants.
“Be bold,” he coached himself under his breath. Judith needs a friend, someone she can trust.
His father stopped the horse in front of the house. Andrew jumped out and assisted his mother, then went to his father’s side and waited for him to give Andrew the reins. With a quick glance at the buggies lined up near the barn, it was easy to see that the entire community had come to welcome Samuel home.
Andrew found a place among the other buggies to tether the horse. The thudding of his heart caught him by surprise. This was the size of the crowd when the community met for church service every other week. He knew everyone—he shouldn’t feel nervous. But with every step he took toward the house, his hands became increasingly clammy.
Several of the men had gathered on the wraparound porch. Andrew rubbed his hands along his thighs again. If he were to shake hands, he didn’t want to extend a sweaty palm.
As he stepped inside the house, he passed more men filtering outside to the porch. In the sitting room, the elderly women sat together with a shared quilt spread across their laps. With the constant flow of people coming inside and going out, the drafty house must have caused their thinned blood to congeal—at least that’s what his grandmother always said. He saw her now, and she waved him over.
She cupped her hand against Mrs. Stoltzfus’s ear. “This is Zechariah and Mary’s boppli,” she said, louder than he wished.
At twenty-two, he was hardly a baby, but he nodded at the confused woman. His grandmother introduced him to Mrs. Stoltzfus at every gathering, and each time the woman crinkled her face as though she’d never seen him before and then asked who he had married and which children were his.
He knelt at his grandmother’s side and patted her hand. “Feeling gut, Mammi?” Since his grandfather’s death, he’d made a practice to stop by his uncle’s house and visit her often. However, since he had taken on the extra chores for the Fischers, he hadn’t spent much time with her.
“Already feeling the cold in my hips.” She sighed.
Andrew patted her bony hand. “Winter won’t be long nau.” He’d seen the ground covered with snow several times in October.
“You will kumm visit soon, jah?”
Andrew stood. “Jah, soon.” He scanned the room for Judith, and when he didn’t see her, he touched his throat. “I think I’ll get a drink of water.”
As he walked away, he heard Mrs. Stoltzfus ask who he’d married.
Mammi’s disappointed reply traveled to the kitchen. Now he wished he would’ve stepped outside. The group of women in the room looked at him with pity in their eyes. It was bad enough that his mother held a long face, but Judith stood up from removing a roaster pan from the oven with the same sympathetic look. He restrained himself from defending his bachelor status. Explaining his contentment to remain single never helped his cause. Instead, it ignited a flurry of women challenged to find him a suitable mate.
He cleared his throat. “Could I have a glass of water?” An easy means to turn their attention toward something they did well—taking care of someone in need. He could have gotten his own drink, but he’d have to listen to them fuss over him anyway.
Three women turned toward the cabinet, but Judith wasn’t one of them. She continued to baste the turkey with broth. His mother handed him a filled glass as Lilly called out to everyone that Judith’s parents had arrived. Samuel was home.
The women all moved toward the door, and Andrew moved toward Judith.
“Have you forgiven me?” he whispered.
Judith cocked her head to one side. “For what?”
“Our conversation wasn’t left on gut standing the other day.”
She smiled. “You made it plain. You’re nothing like Levi.” She moved toward the others.
Andrew followed at he
r side, and when she stopped, he leaned closer to her ear. “I’m not like Levi, in all the ways that matter.”
The door opened, and the increased noise level in the house hindered further conversation. Judith turned her attention to Samuel’s arrival. Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened. Even to Andrew, Samuel appeared gaunt in David’s arms.
Judith quickly turned back into the kitchen, away from the excited visitors. Andrew came next to her side as she dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Are you sure?”
She continued to blot tears from her eyes. “I thought he’d walk through the door.”
Andrew wasn’t sure how to respond. Everyone knew Samuel was paralyzed. His father had been at the hospital with Judith’s parents when the doctor explained the spinal injury. The extent of damages wouldn’t be seen until the swelling subsided. Any lack of movement a month after the injury, the doctor explained, would be permanent.
She drew in a deep breath and forced a smile. “I should welcome him home.”
Judith weaved through the crowd of people. She hugged her brother, kept her phony smile tight, and said no more than a few words. Then she edged her way around the others, but instead of returning to the kitchen, she made a hasty retreat toward the front door.
Judith kept her head down as she bolted out the door. The evening breeze caught in her throat as she stepped onto the porch.
The door creaked on its hinges behind her, and she wiped her face before turning to see who had followed her outside.
“Are you all right?” Deborah’s teeth chattered as she rubbed her arms.
“I will be.”
“It’s cold. Why don’t we go back inside?”
“Deborah, when was Samuel’s quilt finished?” Judith asked her friend.
Deborah touched Judith’s arm. “Let’s go back inside, Judith. It’s cold.”
