by Beth Wiseman
“And what?” Grandpa asked.
“She called me Mary Ellen when I left.” Lillian turned toward her mother. “Mamm, I think we need to go over there later and help Lizzie clean up. I would have done it while I was there, but I had Anna, and I’m limited by what I can do with my big belly and all. Maybe we can—”
Grandpa was on his feet. “Sarah Jane, I’m taking the buggy out for while.”
“Don’t you want lunch?” she asked. “I have your sandwich ready.” Her mother held a plate toward him but was left standing there as Grandpa scrambled out the door.
There was no doubt in Lillian’s mind where Grandpa was headed. And since she’d already stirred things up in one couple’s tattered love life, why stop there? “I received a letter from Sadie today,” she said, trying to sound casual.
“What?” Kade asked, his eyes wide. Then he tried to readjust his excitement. “I mean, how is she doing?”
Kade didn’t fool her for a minute. “Fine,” Lillian said. Selfish thoughts plagued her mind—if Kade were to convert to the Amish faith, Sadie might come home. “Well, I guess she’s fine,” she added.
“What do you mean, you guess?” Kade accepted a plate from Sarah Jane. “Danki,” he said smoothly.
Lillian laughed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I’m sorry.” She laughed again. “It sounds funny to hear you speaking Pennsylvania Deitsch.”
“Lillian,” Sarah Jane began in a tone that Lillian was familiar with. “I don’t think anyone laughed at you when you were learning the Deitsch.”
But Lillian didn’t apologize. She tapped her finger to her chin, eyeballing Kade.
“What do you mean you guess Sadie is fine?” Kade asked again.
“She wants us to have Bishop Ebersol take care of selling her farm.”
“What? Why?” Kade’s voice rose in surprise. “Why would she sell her farm? To move to Texas? She doesn’t even know that Milo person. I thought she was just going for a visit?”
Sarah Jane sat down at the table with her own plate. “It does seem a little fast,” she said.
“Evidently she is going to stay in Texas. She and Milo are talking of marriage, maybe in November,” Lillian said. She looked at Kade. “So, I guess you won’t need to be continuing your studies of the Ordnung.”
Kade reached over to wipe chicken salad from Tyler’s chin. “Why is that?”
“I guess I figure, what’s the point?” Lillian shrugged, then took a bite of her sandwich.
Her mother glared in her direction. “It’s probably none of your business,” Sarah Jane said.
“No, it’s all right.” Kade took a deep breath and stared hard at Lillian. “I guess you think I have alternative motives for learning about the Amish ways?”
“It crossed my mind.” Lillian smiled.
Kade took a bite of his sandwich. “Hmm,” he mumbled.
“I can’t imagine, in my wildest of dreams, why a man of your stature would be so interested in our ways. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because—” Lillian could feel her mother’s glare blazing into her skin, but she went on. “Because of Sadie.”
“It is exactly because of Sadie.” Kade’s expression challenged her to argue.
“Well, that’s the wrong reason to—”
But Kade interrupted her. “Sadie represents the kind of person I want to be, a Christ-centered person, a person of faith. I want to be a good father, a good man . . .” He paused, his eyes filled with hope. “Sadie makes me want to be a better person. So, yes, my decision to study the Ordnung is because of Sadie.”
“She’s not coming back,” Lillian stated emphatically.
“Does that mean I can’t stay, in search of my own peace? It seemed to have worked for you. Or did you convert to be with Samuel?”
“I did not convert just to—” Lillian’s voice rose, bristling with indignation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about anyway, and—”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about either.” His angry gaze swept over her.
“Both of you, stop it!” Sarah Jane interjected. “You sound like two bickering children.” She shook her finger at Lillian. “You are in no position to judge what Kade is doing.” Then she pointed the same crooked finger in Kade’s direction. “And you are in no position to judge Lillian’s actions. That is for God, and God only. So both of you settle down.”
Tyler began to slam his hands on the table, as if sensing the upset in the room, which caused his tea to spill. Then Anna began to wail.
“See what you both have done,” Sarah Jane said. She picked up Anna and paced the kitchen, while Kade attempted to comfort Tyler.
“Hey, buddy,” Kade said. “Everything is okay. Let’s don’t do that.” He looked up at Sarah Jane. “Sorry about the mess.”
“It’s no problem,” Sarah Jane said. “I’m going to go take Anna upstairs and see if she needs a diaper change.
Kade began to sing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” to Tyler, and Lillian bit her bottom lip to stifle the giggle she felt. Kade seemed so incredibly out of character.
There she went—judging again.
Tyler stopped slamming his hands against the table and refocused on his sandwich. Kade smiled. “Go ahead. Laugh. I know you’re dying to, but it’s the only thing that seems to calm Tyler down.” He reached for a nearby towel and began wiping up the spilled tea.
Lillian grinned. “I’m not making fun. Really. I think it’s sweet the way you sing to him.”
Kade’s face turned red, and he shrugged. “It’s a far cry from a high-profile life in Los Angeles, huh?”
He sounded almost embarrassed as he said it, and there was something touching in his voice, combined with the way he tenderly smiled at his son. “Ya, it is,” she said softly, wondering if perhaps he was telling the truth. Maybe even a wealthy, influential man like Kade Saunders was simply seeking contentment, the way she was when she came to Lancaster County.
“I came here to get away from life. It was never my intention to stay here, far from it.” He smiled. “Then I got to know Sadie, particularly during the blizzard, and—and something about her, the calm, the goodness.” He shrugged. “I’d like to see what it’s all about, that’s all.”
“Fair enough,” Lillian said. She knew what it was like to feel lost, detached from God. She also knew what a miraculous thing it was to reconnect with God and to trust in His will. “Grandpa is a gut teacher, I’m sure.”
Kade smiled. “I don’t think he cared for me too much at first, but Tyler seems to have stolen his heart, and we’re sort of a package deal.”
“Grandpa seems to like you just fine,” Lillian said.
“He’s quite the chess player.” Kade paused. “Quite the man, actually. I’m honored to know him.”
Lillian smiled. “We all are.”
Jonas removed his straw hat and stared at the simple tombstone in front of him, no different from the other plain markers in remembrance of those who’d passed—except this stone marked the spot where his beloved Irma Rose was laid to rest. He bent to one knee, his tired old bones cracking in opposition, and he bowed his head to thank the Lord for the life he’d lived, for the blessing of living so much of it with Irma Rose.
He folded his arms atop his knee, his hat dangling from one hand. His heart was heavy, not so much for Irma Rose as for another in need.
“Irma Rose,” he began, “I don’t want a lashing from you when I get to heaven, so I reckon I’ll run somethin’ by you.” He paused, scratched his forehead. “It’s Lizzie, Irma Rose. I think she’s in trouble, and I reckon I’m ’bout all she’s got, and—”
Jonas shook his head. That wasn’t the truth. Not all of it anyway.
He glanced around the small cemetery, sprigs of brown poking through the melting clumps of snow. Sunshine beamed across the meadow in delicate rays, as if God were slowly cleaning up after one season, in preparation for the next. Soon it would be spring, Irma Rose’s favorit
e time of year, when new foliage mirrored hope for plentiful harvests, when colorful blooms represented life, filled with colorful variations of our wonderment as humans.
“I love you, Irma Rose. I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you, sittin’ under that old oak tree at your folks’ house, readin’ a book. You musta been only thirteen at the time, but I knew I’d marry you someday.” Jonas smiled at the recollection of that young girl, so long ago. “And we had a gut life. I miss you every single day.” He swallowed back emotion. “But I’ve grown to love another woman, Irma Rose. Lizzie. She’s a fine woman, and I’d like to do right by her and love her openly the way she loves me. But I’ve been holdin’ back, out of my loyalty to you, my wife.”
Wet snow was soaking through the knee of his pants, numbing the joint to a point he feared he wouldn’t be able to hoist himself up. But it didn’t seem right to speak about such things towering over her, so he endured, and went on. “I’m gonna ask Lizzie to marry me, Irma Rose. And I reckon I’ve come here for your blessing.”
17
SADIE HELPED MILO'S MOTHER, MARTHA, CLEAN THE breakfast dishes. Daylight shone through the kitchen window as the clock on the wall chimed seven times. It still seemed odd to Sadie that breakfast was served so late in the morning. At home, she would have already had breakfast, done her baking, given the house a once-over, and tended to the animals.
She glanced around Martha and John’s kitchen, not unlike her own, except dark-blue blinds covered the windows instead of green. And Martha had a few decorative trinkets placed about the room, items Bishop Ebersol wouldn’t have taken a liking to—a colorful fruit print propped up against the counter backdrop, a stained-glass picture hanging in the window, and three ceramic dogs grouped together on the hutch. All items that served no purpose, but gave the room a certain luster. Even though this house was simple in nature, Sadie knew she was a long way from home.
In the den, Martha and John’s furniture had decorative carvings etched into the wooden rocking chairs, and multicolored throw pillows lined a long, tan couch. A colorful rug was the focal point in the room. Milo’s community abstained from electricity, owning cars, having a telephone in the house—most of the other rules that Sadie’s district adhered to—but things seemed more casual, lacking the discipline Sadie was used to. Even church service was only an hour and a half, as compared to the three-hour worship she was accustomed to. Although, truth be told, that was okay by her.
She placed a plate in the cabinet and stared out the window toward flat, brown land that stretched as far as she could see. No dips or meadows, just barren land waiting for spring to arrive. And it was warm in Texas. It was the first week in March, but the thermometer on the tree outside the window read seventy-two degrees. She wondered if snow still covered the ground at home. Homesickness set in right away, but Sadie did her best to push through it, basking in her time with Milo and getting to know what would potentially be her new family come fall. It was all lovely. Milo’s family was wonderful, and Milo was a gentleman in every way. He was perfect for her, just as she’d hoped.
Milo lived on the adjoining property. Sadie could see his house from the window. She’d had supper there several times, always with Martha and John present, or with other members of Milo’s family, as it should be. But she and Milo still found plenty of time to be alone and get to know each other.
He was quieter than Kade and didn’t seem to possess the same playfulness. Somehow, she couldn’t picture Milo rolling around in the snow or making a snowman. Come to think of it, she’d never thought Kade could be capable of such behavior. The memory always brought a smile to her face.
Milo didn’t seem to enjoy deep conversation the way Kade did either. Twice, she’d tried to talk to Milo about Ben, how she felt after his death, and the struggle to move forward. He’d seemed very uncomfortable and changed the subject both times. Once, Sadie had tried to spark up a conversation about faith. She hinted at her own need to understand God’s will sometimes, but she was careful not to say too much. Rightly so. Milo didn’t want to hear of such questionings when it came to the Lord. And she knew he was right to feel that way, which added another layer to her guilt. She had no reason to doubt, after all. God had sent her the perfect man to spend the rest of her life with and blessed her with an opportunity for a new beginning. She knew there was nothing to gain by comparing Milo to Kade.
Her Englisch friend had aroused feelings in Sadie she thought were long gone and had awakened her to the fact that she was still a woman—a woman who longed to be held, touched, and loved. But he was not the right man for her. Her place was here, with Milo. To consider anything else would only cause heartache. She should have never allowed herself to get close to Kade or Tyler.
It wasn’t only Kade and Tyler that Sadie missed—it was also Lillian, Mary Ellen, Rebecca, Katie Ann, Sarah Jane, and Carley. Hopefully, one of the women would be able to continue to run Treasures of the Heart, even after the farm was sold, a thought she chose to push aside, knowing Lillian most likely had begun that process. She had worked so hard to get the shop up and running. How Ben had loved that farm.
Surely, over time, she wouldn’t feel so homesick.
“What is it, dear?” Martha touched Sadie lightly on the arm. “You look a million miles away.”
“I guess I was just thinking—” Sadie wasn’t sure how much to say. Martha and her entire family had been more than hospitable; they’d welcomed her as part of their own family.
“Let’s sit a bit.” Martha motioned toward the den. “It’s normal for you to be feelin’ homesick, ya know?” Martha said when they sat down in the rockers.
Sadie nodded, but there was a catch in her throat as she opened her mouth to speak.
“This is all very new to you. A new place. New folks to get to know.”
“Ach, I’m fine. Really.” Sadie smiled.
Martha pursed her lips, folded her hands in her lap, and then took a deep breath. “Sadie, I know that your parents have passed. And I’ll not try to assume the role of your mamm . . .” Martha paused, her hazel eyes radiating with kindness. “But if ever there is a time when you need to talk, for certain you can come to me. Milo is my son, and you seem to make him very happy. But you must feel right in your own heart too.”
“Milo is wonderful,” Sadie said, surprised Martha would doubt her intentions. “I care for him very much. It’s just that—” She couldn’t tell Martha that her own heart belonged to another, someone she could never be with. “I am a bit homesick. I mostly miss mei friend, Lillian, and several other ladies in my district.” She smiled. “And Lillian’s grandfather, Jonas, is also very special to me.” Sadie lowered her head. She was telling the truth, just not the entire truth.
“Mei daughters all care for you very much, and with time, you’ll make lots of new friends here.” Martha reached over and patted Sadie’s hand. “Will just take some time.”
Time. Yes, time, Sadie thought. She was exactly where she needed to be
Kade tucked the quilt up around Tyler’s neck, thankful his son was taking a nap. Kade needed time to think. In nine short weeks, he’d had a life overhaul. Monica’s death. Full custody of Tyler. His friendship with Sadie. And now, he was learning the ways of the Plain people of Lancaster County from a kooky old man he’d grown to love. Jonas was completely opposite from his own father, yet they were each independent keepers of great knowledge. Kade’s father was wise in ways of the world—an innate ability to turn a buck into a million, a way with people that had earned him trust by unlikely parties, and Kade respected him more than any man he’d ever known. Yet Kade couldn’t deny that his relationship with his father consisted of a detached type of love that ran both ways.
Jonas’s distrust for the Englisch, as he called them, had shone through from the beginning—particularly a wealthy Englisch man with a past far more complex than Jonas could imagine. But once the elderly man saw past the image of Kade and his wealthy lifestyle, Jonas dove deep into Kade’s spi
rit, got him to think about deeper questions. For reasons Kade didn’t understand, Jonas had allowed himself to become both mentor and friend to Kade.
Repeatedly, Jonas had told Kade that a life among the Amish would never work for Kade. And it sure seemed that way. Every reason Jonas cited made perfect sense, yet Jonas continued to teach Kade, almost as if he was testing his will. And Kade continued to soak up Jonas’s teachings with an insatiable thirst that he couldn’t quench, although logistically it made no sense.
Kade’s search for real contentment had been unattainable for his entire life, and Jonas seemed to hold the key that was opening up possibilities for Kade, possibilities for happiness that had nothing to do with money or material possessions—things Kade already knew could not bring the type of fulfillment he was looking for. Jonas spoke about God so passionately and with such ease, Kade felt compelled to learn more. Eventually, Kade opened up to Jonas in a profound way; Jonas had nudged him to feel things he’d never felt before. Once he even cried in front of Jonas, who merely said, “Welcome the Lord, Kade.”
Some days, Jonas checked out for a while. Sarah Jane said the doctors were not completely sure whether it was his cancer medications or the progression of Alzheimer’s that made him mentally lapse. Kade believed it to be the latter. He recognized the symptoms. He’d been through it with his own father, and as distressing as it was to relive, Kade guided Jonas back to reality as best he could. He needed Jonas. And in some way, Kade felt like Jonas needed him too.
Sadie. He thought about her constantly, wondered how her new life in Texas was working out. He constantly fought to keep his heart from turning bitter. Why would God introduce him to such a woman if she was destined to love another man? He often fantasized about having a life with Sadie in this wonderful Amish community, but it seemed so far-fetched that his mind wound in circles and always came back to the most prevalent question, what am I doing here?
