by Ruth Reid
He lifted his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. After inhaling a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he headed up the porch steps.
Miriam answered after his first knock. “Jordan!” she gasped. “It’s gut to see you again.”
He smiled. “It’s gut to be back. Is Rachel home?”
“Nay. She’s at Naomi and William’s wedding.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Micah is milking cows.”
“Denki.” He turned and lumbered over to the barn.
The wooden door creaked as Jordan swung it open. Micah stood at the opposite end, releasing the cows back into the yard.
“Did I miss milking?” Jordan approached Micah.
“Ach, Jordan. I didn’t hear you kumm in.” Micah smiled as he met Jordan in the center of the barn. He clapped his shoulder. “How long are you in town?”
“I’ve kumm to talk with you about that.” Jordan swallowed, but it didn’t settle his frayed nerves.
Micah’s expression sobered. “Jah?”
Jordan picked up the hesitation in Micah’s response. He lowered his attention to the straw on the floor. Lord, give me the words.
“What’s on your mind, Jordan?”
Jordan jammed his hands into his pockets and kept his head bowed. “I’ll be looking for work again.”
Micah put his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “There probably won’t be a harvest. We haven’t had enough rain.”
“I’ll work for room and board.” He smiled. “I promise I won’t eat much.”
“Why have you returned?”
Micah’s question was void of discernible emotion, and Jordan lifted his head. The way Micah stroked his beard sent a wayward shudder that spread along Jordan’s spine.
“I think I’ve settled my stubborn ways. I want to talk with the bishop about baptism and studying the Ordnung.” When Micah didn’t immediately respond, Jordan continued, “I want to join the church.”
“That’s a serious commitment.” Micah eyed him closely.
Jordan shifted his weight and leaned against a barn post for support. “You asked me before I left what troubled my heart.”
“I remember.” Micah stopped stroking his beard.
“I needed to trust God.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been doing a lot of praying. This is where I belong. I believe that with my whole heart.
“Before my mother died, she said my father would find me here. He did. Only I mistakenly thought she meant my biological father. Now I know she meant my heavenly Father.”
Micah smiled and moved closer to Jordan. “That is wundebaar news.” He clapped Jordan’s shoulder. “I see the sincerity of your heart. I’m glad you’ve found peace.”
“And I’ve found my home. Where I belong.” Jordan drew a deep breath. “There’s one more thing. I want to ask for your blessing to marry Rachel.”
Micah’s face fell and he squeezed Jordan’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re too late.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
With barely a morsel of hope, and riding a borrowed horse from Micah, Jordan sped toward the Yoders’ house. If Micah was correct about the timing, the youth would be splitting off to make their selections for the evening singing.
Although Micah offered his fastest horse, the Standardbreds were trotters. Despite his prodding to get the horse to break into a gallop, the gelding never broke his stride. He saved time by cutting across the fields and avoiding the road. Thankfully, the full moon wasn’t masked by clouds so he had enough light to guide his way.
As Jordan entered the driveway, William and the unmarried men were loitering outside the barn. Riding up to them, he dismounted before the horse fully stopped.
“Have you started the selection?” Jordan studied the horses, but in the dark, he couldn’t make out if one was Ginger.
“Gut to see you.” William and the others circled Jordan. “When did you get back?”
“An hour ago. Is Rachel Hartzler still here?”
“Jah, I think.” William craned his neck to look at the horses.
“Isn’t that third one Ginger?”
“It is,” Peter replied.
Jordan exhaled. “Would you let me choose the first girl? I want to surprise Rachel.”
“Sure.” William waved toward the house. “They’re waiting in the third room down the hall on the right.”
“Denki,” Jordan said, jogging to the house.
Once inside the house, he moved swiftly down the hall and stopped to draw a breath before knocking.
The door opened a crack. “What is your name and who are you asking for?”
He recognized Naomi’s voice, but without a lamp, she hadn’t recognized him at the door.
He cleared his throat. “Rachel Hartzler.”
There was a muffled commotion inside the room, and the door closed.
Jordan wasn’t sure if this was part of the ritual but he wasn’t going to leave without talking with Rachel. He knocked again.
The door cracked opened. “Rachel isn’t participating. Make another selection.”
“She’s mei only selection.” This time he jammed his foot in the doorway so it couldn’t be closed. “Jordan Engles is requesting—” The door swung open and his breath caught as he locked eyes with Rachel.
Her eyes widened. “Jordan, what are you doing here?”
“I asked to make the first selection.” He reached for her hand. “Do you accept?”
She blinked and tears trickled down her face. She glanced at Naomi. “I have to go.” She pushed past Jordan and bolted down the hall and out the door.
Jordan followed, but he collided with Peter in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” Peter said.
“Nett a problem.” He moved around Peter and sprinted toward her buggy. “Rachel!”
“This isn’t the place, Jordan.” She climbed in and snapped the reins.
Jordan pivoted around, looking for the horse.
“We thought you were staying so we cooled him down,” William said. “He’s in the stall.”
“Denki, but I have to catch her.” He rushed into the barn, bridled and saddled the horse, then led him outside. “By the way, William,” he said, mounting the horse, “congratulations.” Jordan reined the gelding toward the field. “Yah!”
Cutting across several acres shaved a good amount off the distance. He reentered the road a few feet behind Rachel. Because he wasn’t pulling a buggy, his horse easily gained the lead. Running neck and neck with Ginger, he leaned over and grabbed the horse’s reins. “Whoa,” he called out, stopping her buggy.
He backed his mount up until he was at her door. “What do you think you’re doing running that horse so hard?”
Instead of answering, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
He quickly dismounted, tied the horse to the back of the buggy, and climbed inside. “I didn’t mean to frighten you by stopping Ginger like that.” He reached his arm around her shoulder.
Rachel didn’t resist when he ushered her into his arms. He pressed her tight against his chest and rested his cheek against hers. “I missed you,” he whispered close to her ear.
Her body tensed. She pushed off his chest, but a passing car’s draft shook the buggy and she sank back into his embrace.
He didn’t want to let her go, but to remain parked on the shoulder of Northland Drive was dangerous. He gave her a gentle squeeze and pulled away.
“Let’s get off this busy road,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. She slid to the far side of the bench. Folding her hands on her lap, she looked straight ahead.
He flicked the reins. “Just for the record, I won that race.”
She huffed. “You went through the field. That wasn’t a fair race.” She glanced over her shoulder at the gelding tied behind the buggy. “That’s mei daed’s horse Hank, and he’s nett faster than Ginger.”
Amused, he reached for her hand, but she snatched it back. Jordan glanced
sideways. If she sensed his stare, she didn’t acknowledge it. She focused her attention straight ahead.
He turned off on the first dirt road.
“This isn’t the road,” she said.
“I know. I haven’t been gone that long.” He pulled back on the reins, set the brake, then swiveled on the bench to face her. “I missed you.”
She looked down and pressed her hands against her dress. “I never thought you would kumm back for me.” She lifted her eyes to him. “Mei daed told me how he asked you nett to take me away.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t.” He slid closer to her. “Rachel—”
“Things have changed since you were here.”
In the moonlight, he caught a glimpse of her watery eyes as she bowed her head. He tipped her chin and swept the warm tears from her face. He wished he’d never left. She’d needed him and he’d been on the road.
“Your daed told me about Sadie. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It was all so sudden.” Her voice broke. “I kept praying for the boppli to live. I had no idea how ill mei sister was.” Rachel peered into Jordan’s eyes. “I should’ve been praying for Sadie.”
Unable to resist, he pulled her into his arms. He rocked her as her warm tears soaked his shirt. With his throat swelling, he struggled to form words to comfort her. Instead, he squeezed her harder against him.
“I’m sorry.” She lifted her head. “It isn’t proper for me to fall apart like this in front of you.” She tapped his shoulder. “I got your shirt wet.”
He pushed the stray strands of hair away from her face, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. His mouth moved to her lips, and deepening his kiss, he slipped his hand to her back and pressed her closer. He continued kissing her until she pulled away.
“Jordan.”
His heart pumped hard, hearing her hoarse whisper. Instead of responding with words, he brought her against him in another kiss. This time he moved his mouth slowly over hers, savoring the soft texture of her lips.
She broke the kiss. “Jordan—” She scooted across the seat and cleared her throat.
“I’m not confused anymore,” he said.
“Things have changed. I can’t go with you nau.”
He smiled. “I’m nett asking you to go away with me.” He inched closer, but she scooted farther away and blew out short breaths as though panicked by his closeness.
Jordan didn’t want to frighten her, so he moved back to the driver’s position. “I’m going to become Amish,” he said. “I realized I don’t belong in the world . . . My home is here. With you . . . I believe it’s God’s will . . .” The longer she remained silent, the faster his pulse rose. “I plan to talk with the bishop tomorrow about baptism.”
She sniffled, ran her sleeve over her face, and drew in a ragged breath. “Will you take me home nau?”
Jordan looked at her until she turned away. Then he released the brake and flicked the reins, signaling Ginger forward.
She sniffled a few more times but otherwise remained silent the remainder of the ride. He pulled up to the barn and jumped out.
She stepped out of the buggy and looked at him. “Denki,” she said softly.
Jordan caught her arm before she walked away. “You can’t tell me you’re still going to marry him after we shared that kiss.” His eyes bored into hers.
She bowed her head. “Who told you about the proposal?”
“Your daed.” Jordan removed his hat. “A wise woman told me once that God wasn’t the author of confusion.”
“Why are you telling me that?” She moved some gravel pebbles with the toe of her shoe.
“You wouldn’t have delayed your marriage acceptance if you weren’t confused.”
Her foot stilled. When she finally lifted her head, she whispered, “I want what’s best for Ella.” And with that, Rachel walked away.
Tangus crept along the ground, following Rachel, but Nathaniel blocked him from reaching her.
“There isn’t a foothold here any longer,” Nathaniel said.
Tangus ignored him. “Jordan, she doesn’t love you. Go back to your father. You couldn’t stay here in this settlement with her married to another man.”
Jordan stared at Rachel walking to the house. “God, help me accept your will.”
“See, he’s made his decision. You cannot pull him from the hand of God. Flee!” Nathaniel bellowed.
“I don’t run so easily.” Tangus edged up to Jordan and followed him into the little house.
Jordan slumped onto the chair next to the fireplace. “God, I don’t want to lose her. I thought you directed me back here. To become Amish and marry Rachel.” He buried his face in his hands. “Show me why I’m here if it isn’t to marry Rachel.”
“You cannot persuade him to turn from God now. Not even if the girl marries another.” Nathaniel drew his sword and prepared to battle Tangus.
A knock on the door startled Jordan. He jumped up from the rocking chair and went to answer the door.
“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Micah said.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” Jordan stepped aside to let him in.
“Did you talk with Rachel?”
“I’m not sure it did any good.” He cleared his throat. “I think her mind is made up.”
Micah frowned. “And what will you do?”
Jordan faced Micah, the truth swelling within him. “I still want to become Amish. I know it wouldn’t be right for me to live here, but I would still like to work for you . . . until I can find a trade.”
“Our settlement could use another blacksmith.”
“I would like that.”
“Gut. We’ll start work tomorrow.” Micah put his hand inside the pocket of his large work apron. “You’ll need your own tools.” He withdrew his hand, holding the farrier’s hammer his father had made. “I wanted to give it to James.” He stopped a moment and swallowed hard. “I would like to pass it along to you, sohn.”
“What if—”
“No matter what, you are going to be Amish. I want you to have it.”
Jordan held the tool, hefting it, admiring again the smooth wooden handle and the excellent craftsmanship it took to get it so balanced. “Denki.” It was the best he could get out around the awe and honor he felt. “Denki.” Jordan’s chest tightened. Anything resembling a family keepsake of his mother’s was sold at auction to pay bills. Her Bible and her photograph were all he had.
Micah began to go to the door when he stopped. “I almost forgot.” He pulled an oversized envelope from another pocket. “This was delivered a day ago. I forgot about it when you arrived.”
Jordan looked at the envelope. Shipped overnight from Clint Engles. He glanced at Micah. “Thanks.”
“I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Before daybreak.”
Once Micah left, Jordan tore open the envelope. The postcards he’d bought for Rachel were inside and a letter.
Dear Jordan,
When I came back to the hotel room and found your note saying you were leaving, my heart broke. I understand you want to become Amish and I wish you the best. Your mother would be proud. Enclosed is a cashier’s check. This is the money I sent to your mother throughout the years. I think I told you how she returned all of my checks. I deposited each one in a savings account with hopes of one day giving it to you. Please don’t return it. I know you won’t put it toward a truck, but maybe you can put it toward an Amish farm.
I enjoyed our time together and I hope we can stay in touch.
Clint
Jordan glanced up from the letter and smiled. “God, you certainly provided a harvest.” He laughed. “Thank you, Father.”
Nathaniel stood guard until Tangus retreated completely. “Yes, your heavenly Father knows how to give good gifts.”
“God is not the author of confusion.”
Unable to get Jordan’s voice out of her head and concentrate on praying, Rachel stood from her kneeling position next to her bed and wand
ered to the window. The morning sun peeked over the horizon, yet she had no desire to rush out to milk the cows. Somehow she had to settle this confusion that held her in a choke hold.
“God, why is this so hard? When I look at Ella, I see Sadie. I miss Sadie . . . Ella needs a mother to care for her. And poor Timothy, he’s lost without his fraa. God, I think I’m the only one who understands his loss.” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t pray for Sadie. I knew how much she wanted the boppli . . .”
Nathaniel fanned his wings, creating a soft breeze. “God is the Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end. He alone holds someone’s future in His hand. He alone gives the breath of life.”
Rachel moved away from the window. “God, please direct my steps. Make the path so obvious that someone as simple as me can see the right way. I want your will for my life. Aemen.” Reaching the door handle, a warm gentle breeze washed over her, filling her with peace.
Rachel entered the kitchen as Mamm and Daed were sitting down for breakfast. She glanced around the room. “Where’s Jordan?”
Daed frowned and lifted up a piece of paper. “He left a note in the barn that said he had to take care of something.”
Rachel’s heart grew heavy. I will follow where you lead, God.
Mamm and Daed exchanged glances. Mamm made a slight nod at Daed and he cleared his throat.
“Have a seat, Rachel. I want to talk with you,” he said.
Rachel pulled the chair out from under the table.
The lines across Daed’s forehead wrinkled. “Have you kumm to a decision about marrying Timothy?”
Rachel’s throat dried. Have I, God?
Mamm set a cup of coffee in front of Rachel. “We’re concerned about your happiness.”
“You don’t want me to marry Timothy?” Rachel looked from her mother over to her father. “Ella needs a mother.” She tapped her chest. “I can do that. I need to do something.”
