by Beth Wiseman
“It doesn’t look like all that much. Feed the horses, clean the stalls, brush them. Check their water. Feed the pigs. Did I miss anything?”
Jonas narrowed his brows. “I reckon not.” He had to admit, it warmed his heart to see Tyler having such a good time. “He seems to have taken a special liking to the horses.” Jonas pointed to Tyler, who was still scratching the horses on their noses.
“Yes, he does. I’m still trying to learn the things he likes and doesn’t like. He’s autistic. Do you know what that means?”
“I reckon I don’t much.” But Tyler looked to Jonas like he was just being a normal little boy at the moment.
“Well, for example, he can read. But he doesn’t understand what he reads. I guess you could say he has a limited understanding about some things.”
Jonas could see the worry in the Englisher’s heart for his boy. “He looks like he’s having a mighty gut time right now.”
Kade smiled, donning the proud look of a father. “Yes, he does look like he’s having a gut time.”
“Ach, you speaka da Deitch?” Jonas grinned at Kade’s attempt.
“No, not much. Only what I’ve picked up from Sadie.” Jonas watched Kade staring at the boy, as if worrying about the fact that he was different.
“Children like Tyler are a special gift from God. There’s a special place in heaven for them,” Jonas said.
“That’s what Sadie said.” Kade didn’t look up though. He kept staring at the boy.
“Sadie is a smart woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
Jonas wasn’t sure about this Englischer, but one thing was for certain—he appeared to be hurting about several things. Mostly his son. And Sadie being gone. Jonas knew what it was like to be detached from a child. Sarah Jane had left them when she was eighteen to live in the Englisch world. They’d only been blessed by her return a few years ago. And Jonas also knew what it was like to love someone you couldn’t have. He’d been in love with Lizzie for a while now, even though it was a dishonor to Irma Rose. Jonas could tell that Kade was in love with Sadie—something about the way he spoke her name. And Kade certainly had worry in his heart about the boy.
“How would you boys like to take a ride in my buggy into town? I wonder if Tyler would like that.”
Kade looked confused. Rightly so. Jonas had given the man a rather hard time since he’d arrived in Lancaster County. “Seriously?”
“Ya, ya. We best enjoy the sunshine. We can have coffee in town.” Jonas figured it might keep his mind off Lizzie. He didn’t have anything else to do anyway.
“That would be great. Tyler, you ready to go for a ride in the buggy?” He turned toward Jonas. “Thanks, Jonas. This will be fun for Tyler, and there is something important I want to ask you.”
Jonas couldn’t imagine what Kade wanted to talk about, so he shrugged. “Let’s be on our way, then.”
16
IT WAS TWO WEEKS BEFORE LILLIAN RECEIVED A LETTER from Sadie. She’d reprimand her friend later for not checking in sooner, but for the moment she was thrilled to pull a letter from her mailbox.
“Look, Anna, a letter from Sadie,” she said to her little one. Anna was cutting another tooth and a bit fussy, so Lillian set the letter aside and gave Pete a flick of the reins. “We’ll read the letter when we get to Mammi Sarah Jane and Daddi Jonas’s haus. How’s that?” Lillian pushed back Anna’s soft hair from her face and checked the buckle on Anna’s car seat. Many of the Amish carry their babies on their lap, but Lillian wasn’t comfortable with that. Maybe it was the time she’d spent in the Englisch world, where car seats were a necessity, but she wanted Anna safely strapped in, even in the buggy.
Lillian reached down and rubbed her expanding belly. Less than two months to go, she thought, as she pulled onto Black Horse Road. The weather had warmed to a cool thirty-eight, and the sun was making a regular appearance. Still cold, but a welcome relief following the nasty blizzard they’d recently gone through. Lillian was looking forward to spending the day baking and chatting with her mother. And she was looking forward to reading Sadie’s letter. She couldn’t imagine what adventures Sadie must be having, since she’d never been far from Lancaster County. Since Lillian had lived in Texas prior to converting to the Old Order Amish in Pennsylvania, she was anxious to hear what her friend thought about the Lone Star State, and more important, how things were going with Milo Troyer.
But as Lillian headed down the road, she felt compelled to make a stop along the way. She knew her grandpa wasn’t spending time with Lizzie any longer, and Lillian thought she’d check on her. The first few days after their initial breakup, her mother said Grandpa had been a bear to live with, moping around the house, complaining that Sarah Jane didn’t play chess with him enough, and even complaining about the food her mother was cooking. But then, her mother had told her that an unlikely friendship had developed. Grandpa had been spending his free time with Englischer Kade Saunders, who as it turned out, proved to be a challenging chess partner.
It didn’t make any sense to Lillian, though. What could those two possibly have in common outside of chess? Grandpa had bordered on being mean to Kade since the moment they met, citing his distrust for the man on more than one occasion. Lillian guided Pete down the drive to Lizzie’s house. She unstrapped Anna and grabbed a loaf of banana nut bread she’d made, along with a container of chicken soup. Balancing Anna on her hip, she struggled up Lizzie’s porch steps.
“Lillian, how gut to see you,” Lizzie said. “Come in, child. Come in.”
“Hello, Lizzie. I brought you some banana nut bread and some chicken soup.” She set Anna down on the wooden floor once they were inside.
Lizzie squatted down to Anna’s level. “You are getting so big.” Lillian set the soup and bread on Lizzie’s table. “I hope you don’t mind us stopping by. I was worried about you.”
Lizzie stood up. “Ach, I be fine,” she said. “And you stop by for any reason, anytime. And, oh, how I’ll enjoy this bread and soup.”
“No, Anna,” Lillian said when Anna reached for an apron Lizzie had hung on a nearby rack. Lillian turned toward Lizzie. “She’s a handful these days.”
Lizzie walked to her cabinet and pulled a box of crackers down. “Can she have some of these?”
“Sure.” Lillian set Anna in the wooden armchair at the end of Lizzie’s table. Once Anna was settled, both women sat on either side of the table. Lillian glanced around the kitchen and saw a frightful mess—dishes in the sink, open containers of food left unattended on the counter, and the floor didn’t look like it had seen a broom in weeks. “Lizzie, are you doing okay these days?”
“Ya, ya. I do just fine.” Lizzie smiled.
Lillian was wondering how long it had been since Lizzie’s nieces, or anyone, had visited.
“How about a glass of sweet tea?” Lizzie stood up and walked toward the counter. She pulled two glasses from the cabinet.
“That would be wunderbaar,” Lillian said. She continued to study Lizzie’s kitchen. There were several pill bottles to one side of the sink. Two of the bottles were knocked over and empty. Lillian stood up and walked to the sink. She picked up one of the bottles. “Lizzie, do you need me to get these filled for you?’”
“No, no. Those are old bottles. I have mei refills upstairs by the bed.” Lizzie placed two glasses of tea on the table, along with a glass of milk for Anna. “Can she drink from a glass?”
“Ya, she does, with some help. Sometimes she still takes a bottle, but we’re trying to wean her from that.” Lillian took a sip of tea and struggled to gulp it down. Sweetest tea she’d ever had, and she wondered how long that pitcher had been in Lizzie’s refrigerator. She grabbed Anna’s plastic glass filled with milk before Anna had a chance to get it to her lips. “Actually, Anna had a bottle before we left. Maybe just some water for her?”
“Ya, ya.” Lizzie smiled and went to retrieve a fresh glass. As Lizzie pumped water from the sink, Lillian sniffed the milk. Then grimaced
and set the glass aside, confirming what she’d feared.
Lizzie returned to the table and handed Anna the glass. “Oops,” she said when water trickled down Anna’s chin.
“She’s still a messy drinker when it comes to cups,” Lillian said. She wiped the water from Anna’s chin with her thumb. “Lizzie, is there anything you need?”
“No, I have all that I need. But danki, Mary Ellen, for bringing me the bread and soup. Is for sure I will enjoy it.”
Lillian decided not to correct her on the name. Instead she smiled. “You’re welcome, Lizzie.” Lillian stood up. “I best be off. Mamm is expecting me. But Lizzie, I’d be glad to pick you up anything you might need from town.”
“No, dear. I’m fine.” Lizzie stood up and patted Anna on the head. “You take care of this little one and tell your mamm and Jonas I send my best.”
Lillian nodded, unsure whether to tell Lizzie how much she knew her grandfather missed her. But Lizzie was smiling and seemed glad she’d stopped by. She didn’t want to cause any upset for Lizzie
“Whoa, Pete,” Lillian instructed the horse. She pulled off on the side of Black Horse Road to read Sadie’s letter before she arrived at her mamm’s. Anna had dozed off in her carrier, and Lillian wanted to enjoy a quiet moment reading what Sadie had been up to. She pried the envelope open and pulled out the letter. Lillian took a deep breath and unfolded the white paper. She wanted Sadie to be happy, just not so far away in Texas.
Dear Lillian,
I am sorry it took so long for me to pen this note. It was a long travel on the bus from our home to Texas. But there was much to talk about with Milo during our trip. He is a kind man and everything I had hoped he would be. Milo’s family has made me feel welcome. He has three sisters—Ellen, Hannah, and Lavina. Between them, they have twelve children. Milo’s mamm, Martha, is a gut woman, and I like her very much. His daed, John, I don’t see much. He is a hard worker, always busy making furniture or tending to chores around the farm. I am staying with Martha and John while I am here.
Milo is a hard worker too. He stays busy at his farm and with his woodworking projects, and he comes to his folks’ haus in the evenings to pick me up, just like if we were young and courting. We even attended a Sunday singing, although I felt a mite silly at my age.
I’m not sure if this is an Old Order District, or just a gathering of Old Order families. There are only a few families left, and almost everyone works in the city. Milo is one of the few who farms his land, but he also must hold a construction job in town to make ends meet. Their ways are different than our ways. Shunning is almost unheard-of, and the supper hour is at 6:00 instead of four. They sleep later too, until 6:30. I like that part.
I miss you, Lillian. And Rachel, Mary Ellen, Katie Ann, and Sarah Jane. And I miss Jonas, his protective ways of me. I must tell you, in confidence, I miss the Englischer and his boy very much. Can you please write to me and tell me how they are doing?
Lillian, I will need to sell my farm to have a life here with Milo. We discussed him moving to Lancaster County, but it seems to make more sense for us to live amongst his large family. I will continue to live with his folks until a time when we see fit to marry, which most likely will be after the fall harvest in November. As our Order has done in the past, please offer my land to someone in the Amish community first. I’m sure Bishop Ebersol can handle the arrangements.
I will be back on April 1 to gather my things. Kade and Tyler will be gone by then. I hope that my renters have not been too much trouble. The boy loves tapioca pudding, and Kade eats just about anything, but I don’t think he knows how to cook much. And Lillian, Tyler likes to read books. He doesn’t really understand them, but I have a big box of books suitable for him in my bedroom. I collected them over the years for a child of my own, but please give them to Tyler. Milo’s family has many books here, if God should ever bless me and Milo with a child.
If it’s not too much trouble, can you please show Kade how to make tapioca pudding so he can make it for the boy when he returns to his home in Los Angeles? Or maybe he can give the recipe to whoever might be tending to Tyler.
I must go, Lillian. Please write to me very soon.
Em Gott Sei Friede,
Sadie
“God’s peace to you, too, my friend,” Lillian whispered. She folded the note and put it back in the envelope, most disturbed by the tone of Sadie’s letter. It seemed to Lillian that Sadie was masking sadness, not once mentioning that she loved Milo, and focusing instead on the needs of the Englischers.
Lillian whistled Pete into action and continued down Black Horse Road to her mamm’s house. She headed down the long driveway and fought the worry in her heart about Sadie. But what a surprise she had when she pulled near the house.
Grandpa, Kade, and the boy were busy making a snowman in the front yard. It seemed strange to Lillian on several levels. One, she’d never seen her grandfather frolicking about in such a playful way. Two, Kade Saunders was laughing and playful as well, a far cry from the stuffy Englischer who had shown up several weeks ago. And most of all, she couldn’t get past what good friends Kade and her grandpa had become.
She headed toward the house with Anna on her hip. “Hello,” she hollered to the trio as she made her way up the porch steps.
“Hello, Lilly.” Grandpa packed another mound of snow on their structure, and then held Tyler in his arms so the boy could place a carrot nose on the snowman. Kade waved, but quickly refocused his attention on his project.
“What have I told you about carrying that baby when you are this pregnant?” Mamm met Lillian at the steps and pulled Anna from her arms. “It’s still slippery out here, and last thing we need is for you to fall with this baby in your arms.”
“I’m fine, Mamm,” Lillian mumbled. She turned to have a final look at her grandpa, Kade, and Tyler. “What are Kade and his son doing here?”
Sarah Jane put Anna in a high chair and offered her some crackers. “I told you, your grandpa and Kade have developed quite a friendship. Pop is either there, or Kade and the boy are here.” Her mamm paused, raised her brows. “Want to hear something even more shocking?”
Lillian sat down on the bench in the kitchen. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly.
“Your grandfather is teaching Kade the Ordnung. Kade asked him to.”
“What? Why?” Lillian paused for a moment. “Kade Saunders can’t possibly be thinking of staying here. That’s ridiculous, a man of his stature and wealth. I mean, why would he do such a thing?”
Her mother shrugged. “You tell me.” Her mother walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a tub of chicken salad. She began to spread the mixture on slices of bread she had laid out.
“Mamm, if he’s staying because of Sadie, that is the wrong reason to join the community.” Lillian shook her head.
Sarah Jane placed her hands on her hips and faced Lillian. “Are you sure you are one to speak against this?”
Lillian’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t convert to Amish to be with Samuel, Mamm, and you know that.”
Her mother didn’t say anything, but continued to spread chicken salad on the bread. She topped each mound with another piece of bread. Then she turned around and winked at her daughter. “I never said you did.”
Lillian always believed that she would have converted to the Amish faith, with or without Samuel by her side. But was she being honest with herself?
“A man like Kade doesn’t leave the Englisch world, Mamm. He’s been on the cover of Forbes, for goodness’ sakes. He’s a millionaire. A person like that doesn’t give it all up to become Amish, for a woman or otherwise.”
“I approached this very subject with your grandfather. He said Kade is a miserable, unhappy man in search of the same peacefulness that you came here looking for.”
“It’s not the same!” Lillian insisted. “He has a life. Millions of dollars, people counting on him, probably lives in a mansion. People like him don’t do things like this.” Lillian fold
ed her arms across her chest.
“Lillian, you know it’s not our place to judge Kade’s heart in this matter.” Her mother reprimanded her with her eyes, and Lillian recalled being on the other side of this conversation with Sadie recently. Lillian had accused Sadie of this very thing where Kade was concerned.
“I know, Mamm,” she said, then sighed. “But how in the world did Kade and Grandpa become friends in the first place?”
“I think your grandpa took a liking to the boy first and then got to know Kade.” She twisted around and smiled. “And it didn’t hurt that Kade turned out to be quite the chess player. To tell you the truth, Lillian, I’m relieved your grandpa has someone else besides me to play chess with. I don’t have time to always be indulging him. Kade seemed to take over where Lizzie left off.” Lillian sighed. “We need to talk about Lizzie, Mamm. I think—”
“You think what?” Her grandpa burst through the kitchen door, followed by Kade and Tyler. “Is lunch ready?” he asked next. “We done worked up an appetite.” He hung his straw hat on the rack and sat down at the head of the long, wooden table, and then turned toward Lillian, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it. “What about Lizzie?”
“Hello,” Lillian said to Kade; then she turned to Tyler. “Hello, Tyler. Did you have fun making a snowman?” The boy’s eyes jetted around the room, but he smiled for an instant in Lillian’s direction.
Grandpa grunted. “Tell me about Lizzie,” he demanded.
Lillian pursed her lips together for a moment, then said, “She doesn’t seem like she’s doing very gut. ”
Grandpa sat up a little taller and narrowed his eyes in Lillian’s direction. “What do you mean?”
“She’s just—just out of sorts a little.” Lillian paused. “I mean, Lizzie’s house has always been so tidy, but today when I stopped by there, dishes were piled in the sink, the milk she offered Anna was sour and smelled as if it had been in there for weeks, and . . .”
