Eggs from the henhouse and the last of the flour in the bin made a large batch of noodles that she simmered together with some of the canned chicken from the cellar. She discovered two jars of cherries and made an oatmeal-topped cobbler that she hoped would please both the men.
When everything was ready, she walked out onto the porch and rang the dinner bell hanging from one of the posts. A beautiful sunset was coloring the western sky with bands of gold and rose. Such powerful beauty before the darkness of night was another reminder of God’s presence at the close of day.
Tomorrow would be a new day and a new chance to find a way to save her sisters.
* * *
Bright and early the next morning, Lizzie hurried to get in the buggy, where her grandfather was waiting impatiently. She said, “I hope I have not made us late.”
The moment she was seated, Joe slapped the reins against the horse’s rump. “Do not expect the horse to make up the time you’ve lost.”
“I don’t. Is the service far away?”
“Nee, it’s less than two miles. It’s at the home of Ike and Maggie Mast. I will tell you now that I don’t stay for all the visiting and such afterward. We’ll go home as soon as the service is over.”
“But what about the meal?”
“I eat at home.”
Lizzie hid her disappointment. Her family always stayed to eat and visit until late in the afternoon. Sunday service was a huge social event. She had hoped to meet as many local families as possible and see if anyone had work for her. Perhaps she could convince her grandfather to let her stay while he went home. “I would like to meet some of your neighbors and friends. I can walk home after the service.”
“No point in getting friendly with people you’ll never see again.” He kept the horse at a steady trot until they came even with the small shepherd’s hut that was set back a little way from the road. He stopped the buggy by the pasture gate and waited.
Lizzie realized he was waiting for Carl. When Carl didn’t appear after a few minutes, her grandfather’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. He clicked his tongue and set the horse moving again.
Lizzie glanced back as they drove away. “You were hoping that he would join us.”
“He will when he is ready. All things are in God’s own time.”
“Some people never come back to the Amish life.”
“Carl will.” He slapped the reins again and the horse broke into a fast trot.
Would Carl ever seek forgiveness, or would he remain an outcast? It seemed so sad. He respected their ways, but something kept him from accepting them. If only she knew more about his past, she might be able to help him, but it wasn’t likely she would get to know him that well.
The journey to the preaching service took less than half an hour. When they arrived at the farm home set into the side of a tree-covered hill, Lizzie saw the yard was already filled with buggies. Her grandfather’s congregation was a large one. Several young men came to take charge of the buggy and the horse.
Her grandfather got down without waiting for her. Lizzie clasped her hands with trepidation. It was the first time she had attended a prayer meeting at a church besides her own. She wouldn’t know anyone here. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but one she was determined to overcome.
Today was for praising God and giving thanks to Him for His blessings.
The singing of the first hymn started by the time they reached the front doors. Inside the house, the living room held four rows of backless wooden benches with a wide center aisle dividing them. The women and girls sat on one side, while the men and boys sat on the other. Her grandfather walked straight ahead to where the married men and elders sat. She made her way to an empty spot on the women’s side of the aisle near the back.
She gathered many curious glances. The only face she recognized was the woman from the inn, Naomi Wadler. Smiling and nodding to the woman, Lizzie took a seat and picked up a copy of the Ausbund.
The hymnal was the same one used in the services she attended at home. The weight of the book felt familiar in her hand and gave her a sense of comfort. She might be far from home, but she was never far from God.
When the first hymn ended, she joined in silent prayer with those around her.
Please, Lord, protect and keep my sisters. If it be Your will, let Grandfather change his mind and allow us to live with him. And please, Heavenly Father, help Carl King to find his way back to You. Amen.
* * *
When the Sunday prayer service was within walking distance, Carl followed Joe to the neighboring farms. He never went near the buildings, but often, like today, he found a place beneath a tree and settled himself to listen. The sound of solemn voices raised in song came to him on the light spring breeze. The hymns, hundreds of years old, were sung by the Amish everywhere. The words and the meaning remained unchanged by the passage of time. They were as familiar to him as the clothes on his back or the worn boots on his feet.
Sometimes, like now, he softly sang along. The birds added their songs to the praising as the sun warmed the land. Spring was coming. A time of new births, a time of new beginnings. A time for the new lambs to join the flock.
For years, Carl had been waiting for a sign from God that he had been forgiven, that he could return to the fold of worshippers and be clean and whole again, but no sign had been forthcoming.
God had not yet forgiven him for killing a man.
Chapter Five
Lizzie sat patiently through the three-hour-long church service at the home of her grandfather’s neighbors, Ike and Maggie Mast. She enjoyed the preaching, singing and prayers. The entire morning lifted her spirits.
When the last notes of the final hymn died away, Lizzie was immediately welcomed by a young woman seated near her, a redhead with a set of freckles that rivaled Lizzie’s.
“Hello, and welcome to our church. I’m Sally Yoder. Did I see you arrive with Woolly Joe, or did my eyes deceive me? I didn’t know he had any family.”
“If you mean Joseph Shetler, then yes, I came with him. I’m his granddaughter from Indiana. I’m Lizzie Barkman.”
“Are you Abigail’s daughter?” someone asked from behind her. Turning, Lizzie saw it was Naomi Wadler, the woman from the inn.
“Ja, my mother’s name was Abigail. Did you know her?”
“Very well. No wonder I thought you looked familiar. You resemble her a great deal. How wonderful to see you all grown up. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but when you were very young, your mother and I spent many happy hours together. We were dear friends. You have more sisters, don’t you?”
“Yes, there are four of us.”
“I’m so happy that Joseph has mended the breach with your family. He was deeply saddened when your mother moved away. He never really got over it. I was so sorry to learn of her death. You must come visit me at the inn so that we can catch up. I’d love to hear what Abigail’s daughters are doing.”
Lizzie didn’t care to share information about her strained relationship with her grandfather. Instead, she changed the subject. “I’m still looking for work. Have you heard of anything?”
“I have, and it may be just the thing for you. Come meet Katie and Elam Sutter. Elam’s mother mentioned the couple has been thinking of hiring a girl to live in and help with the children and the business.”
Excited by the prospect, Lizzie asked, “What kind of business?”
“Elam runs a basket-weaving shop. He and his wife are opening a store to sell their wares here in Hope Springs in addition to taking them to Millersburg to be sold there. We have so many tourists stopping by these days that it makes sense to have a shop locally.”
Sally said, “I’ve worked for Elam for ages, and I’ve known Katie for several years. They are wonderful people.”
Naomi led
Lizzie to a group of young mothers seated on a quilt on the lawn. They were keeping an eye on their toddlers playing nearby while several infants slept on the blanket beside them. “Katie, have you found a chore girl yet?” Naomi asked.
Katie picked up a little boy and rose to her feet. She deftly extracted a pebble from his mouth. He yowled in protest. “Jeremiah Sutter, rocks are not for eating. Nee, Naomi, I have not found anyone willing to take on my horde.”
“They are not a horde. They are adorable. Katie, this is Lizzie Barkman, and she may be just the woman you and Elam are looking for if you don’t scare her away.”
Lizzie met Katie’s gaze and liked what she saw. The young mother had black hair and intelligent dark eyes. Her coloring was a stark contrast to her son’s blue-eyed blondness.
“I don’t know anything about basket weaving, but I’m willing to learn. I have two younger sisters, so I know something about taking care of children.”
Katie put her little boy down and tipped her head slightly as she regarded Lizzie. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
“I was originally. My family moved to Indiana when I was small. My grandfather is Joseph Shetler.”
“I didn’t realize that Woolly Joe had any family,” Katie said.
Sally propped her hands on her hips and rocked back on her heels. “That’s exactly what I said.”
Naomi smiled sadly at Lizzie. “After your mother and father moved away, your grandfather became a recluse. I hope that will change now.”
“I don’t believe it will.” Lizzie glanced toward the line of buggies. Sure enough, her grandfather was hitching up his horse. He was ready to go. He wouldn’t be happy if she kept him waiting.
“I pray that his eyes will be opened and he will see how many of his old friends still care deeply about him and miss him.” There was something oddly poignant in Naomi’s tone. Lizzie looked at her closely, but Naomi’s gaze was fixed on Joe.
After a moment, Naomi sighed and looked back to Katie. “I’ll leave you women to get acquainted while I go help set up for the meal. It was wonderful talking to you, Lizzie. I’m serious. You must come by the inn so we can catch up. I want to hear all about Abigail’s daughters.”
As Naomi walked away, Sally leaned close to Katie. “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”
Katie wore a puzzled expression, too. “If you just heard Naomi Wadler sighing over Woolly Joe Shetler, then yes.”
Lizzie pointed at Katie’s son. “Jeremiah just ate another rock.”
Katie rolled her eyes. She grabbed her son and swiped a finger through his mouth to pull out a pebble. “Come by our farm on Tuesday of this week and meet my husband. If he agrees, we’ll work out the details. How soon could you start?”
“As soon as you would like.”
Lizzie could barely contain her excitement. Once she had a job, she would be able to send money home, enough to get all of her sisters to Hope Springs. She had no idea where they would all live, but she put her faith in God. He would provide. She bid the women goodbye and rushed across the yard to where her grandfather was waiting.
A man approached their buggy as they were preparing to leave. “Might I have a word with you, Joe?”
“If it’s a short word.” Reluctantly, her grandfather nodded toward her. “This is my granddaughter Lizzie Barkman. This fellow is Adrian Lapp.”
Adrian smiled at her. “Pleased to meet you. Joe, has Carl King had any experience shearing alpacas?”
Her grandfather scratched his cheek. “I’ve never heard him mention it.”
“But he does all your sheep, right?”
“He does.”
“My wife didn’t like the man I hired last year. She said he was too rough with them. She’s very attached to her animals. I’m looking for someone local who is willing to take on the task.”
Joe stroked his beard slowly. “I’ve heard that they spit on folks.”
“Only if they are frightened or very upset. Normally, they are as gentle as lambs.”
“I heard the one you call Myrtle spit on the bishop’s wife.”
Adrian smothered a grin as he glanced over his shoulder. “It was a very unfortunate incident.”
To Lizzie’s surprise, Joe chuckled. “I would have given a lot to see that.”
“Faith would rather the whole thing be forgotten, but a number of people feel as you do. Myrtle spit on me, too, the first time we met. The smell fades in a few days.”
“I’ll make sure Carl knows that.”
“If he’s willing to take on the work, just have him drop by tomorrow and let me know. We’re in a hurry to get them done, but I know you’ll be shearing soon, too. It could wait until after lambing season if need be, but Faith is anxious to get started on a batch of new yarns before our baby arrives. Her orders are already coming in. She’s going to need help if she is going to keep up with them.”
Lizzie leaned forward. “Are you looking to hire someone?”
Adrian shrugged. “We’ve been talking about it.”
“I have a sister who is looking for work. The pay doesn’t have to be much if she can get room and board.”
“Does she have experience with carding wool and spinning?”
“She does.” It had been years ago, but Lizzie remembered Clara and her mother working together on the big wheel. Before their mother died and Uncle Morris sold it.
“I’ll let my wife know. She isn’t here today. She wasn’t feeling well this morning. Why don’t you come over with Carl if he decides he wants the job? That way, you and Faith can discuss it.”
“I’ll do that.” Lizzie didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it was a promising lead. She glanced at her grandfather. “Before I go home on the bus.”
“Which is Tuesday,” he stated.
“But not until in the afternoon,” she added. “Please tell your wife I’ll stop by even if Carl decides not to take the work.”
“All right, I will.”
As Adrian walked away, her grandfather turned the buggy and headed down the lane. “I thought I told you to accept your uncle’s wishes in the matter of your sister’s marriage.”
Lizzie remembered Carl’s advice and spoke with firm resolve. “I appreciate your wise counsel, but my sister deserves a choice. Nothing good can come from marriage vows made without love.”
Joe glanced at her but didn’t say anything more. Lizzie relaxed when she realized he didn’t intend to argue the point.
It had been a productive morning. So far, the Lord had provided two promising opportunities. Lizzie wasn’t going to ignore them. She might be able to offer Clara a job and a place to live, but unless she could find something for all her sisters, Clara wouldn’t take it. She wouldn’t leave Betsy behind to marry Rufus Kuhns in her stead.
That evening after supper, Joe mentioned Adrian’s offer to shear his alpacas to Carl.
Carl remained silent. Lizzie noticed that he didn’t rush into making decisions. He always thought before he spoke. “The extra pay would come in handy. I’ve never clipped an alpaca, but it can’t be too much different than a sheep. I’ll give it a try. Can we spare the time tomorrow? We have the sorting pens to build yet.”
“We can spare half a day. If we don’t get them put together on Monday, Tuesday will be soon enough. Take the job if you want it.”
Lizzie broached the subject that couldn’t be avoided much longer. “Adrian Lapp cannot do business with you, Carl.”
“True, but the man needs help. I’ll find a way that is acceptable.”
Joe said, “Lizzie will go with you. She can handle the money. Adrian’s wife is looking for help with her yarn business.”
Carl sat up straighter. “So you may not be leaving?”
“Not if I can find a job and a place to stay.”
Would it please him if she stayed in the area? It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it did. “The spinning job with Faith Lapp is for my sister Clara. I go Tuesday morning to see if Elam Sutter will hire me to work in his basket-weaving business. It is my hope to bring all my sisters to live here.”
Joe pushed his chair back from the table. “The next thing you know, I’m going to be surrounded by a gaggle of women. Well, I won’t have it. I like my peace and quiet. You and your sisters can move anywhere you want, so long as you leave me be.”
He stomped out of the kitchen and slammed his bedroom door behind him, leaving Carl and Lizzie alone.
“He doesn’t mean that.” Carl looked embarrassed by the outburst.
She began to gather the dishes. “I think he does. I’ve done everything I can think of to show him having a woman in his house is a good thing. I’ve cooked. I’ve cleaned until my fingers are raw. I’ve been quiet. I have stayed out of his way to the best of my ability, and still he treats me like a millstone around his neck.”
“I appreciate your work, especially your good cooking. I’m sure Joe does, too. I don’t think housekeeping skills will impress him enough to let you and your sisters stay here. Joe loves his solitude.”
“And you do, too?”
He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Yes, I do, too.”
She felt so sad for them. They were two lonely men living apart from the world. It seemed that they both planned to remain that way.
* * *
Carl woke in the middle of the night bathed in sweat and shaking. He sat up gasping for air. Slowly, his nightmare faded. He wasn’t in a grass hut in Africa. He was in a stone shepherd’s hut in Ohio.
He had left the door open, and Duncan came in. The dog laid his muzzle on Carl’s hand and whined. As soon as Carl’s thundering heart slowed, he said, “It’s okay, boy.”
He had not been forgiven. Every time the events of the past played out in his nightmares, he knew God was reminding him of his sin.
The Shepherd's Bride Page 6
