“I see.”
He lifted the reins and the horse began moving out into the road. “It’s a fine day for a buggy ride,” he told her. “Not a cloud in sight.”
Elizabeth found her nerves settling a bit as the buggy rolled along, the movement and the sound of the wheels on the road and the horse’s hooves clip-clopping a reminder of traveling back home. Memories of riding with her parents and her brothers and sisters, riding to church on Sunday morning, suddenly swamped her.
She must have made a sound because Saul touched her hand, asking, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she managed, grateful the bonnet she wore kept him from scanning her face. “Will your parents be there?”
“Of course. So there’s two—make it three—people you know. Oh, and Katie and Rosie.”
She glanced at him. How had he known she’d been a little uncomfortable about walking into church and not knowing anyone?
“I expect things will be a little different from what you’re used to back home, too,” he said. “Every district is a bit different from what I hear.”
He was right. Her clothing would mark her as someone who’d come from outside Pennsylvania. She much preferred the distinctive organdy kapps with their heart-shaped backs—some called them butterfly shapes, but she thought they looked like hearts—the women wore here to her own stiff, pleated one.
If she stayed—and when she had the money—she’d change her kapp and clothing to the style of the Lancaster County Amish women. The dresses here were very similar to the Indiana and Ohio dresses. Some Indiana Amish women wore dresses with tiny pleats on the skirts while the Lancaster County skirts were just gathered at the waist.
The biggest difference she hoped to make in her appearance would be to one day own more than three dresses she’d worn for years. There had been little money for new, and even when her boss at the fabric store offered her a wonderful discount, Elizabeth hadn’t been able to find the time to sew anything for herself.
“Did you have a good day off?”
She tried not to grimace. “It was different,” she said finally. “I’m not used to having time on my hands.”
“Enjoy it while you can,” he told her. “Leroy called me and Miriam may need more time off. I didn’t ask for specifics—it’s private. But she needed a few days for treatment in the hospital, so it’s possible we’ll need you longer.”
Elizabeth felt a mixture of emotion at hearing the news . . . it was good for her to have the job longer, but she didn’t like that Miriam being ill was the reason.
“We’ll be getting busier at the shop soon. You could be asked to work overtime.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
The site of the home hosting the church service came into view. The homes in this area looked as large as those back in Indiana. The Amish believed in big families so many of their homes featured additions as the number of their kinner increased.
Home would always be big, too, because so much took place there—most importantly, church services. Faith began in the home and so it was natural for services to take place there. And hundreds of years didn’t erase why the Amish had emigrated to this country to begin with. Elizabeth could vividly remember the lessons she’d learned in schul about how the Amish had been persecuted for their religion in Europe.
Saul pulled into the drive behind other buggies. Men and boys unhitched horses and led them into the barn so they didn’t have to stand in harness for the three hours of the church service. Women and girls made their way inside the home. Just like Goshen, she thought as Saul stopped the buggy and she got out. It gave her comfort. She’d missed church—the message, the singing, the fellowship afterward sharing a light meal and talking.
“You should have gone inside,” Saul said when he joined her on the front porch.
She opened her mouth to confess that she felt reluctant to meet so many new people at once—there looked to be about seventy-five men, women and children attending—but then a woman rushed up.
“Elizabeth, Saul, guder mariye!”
At last, a familiar face. Elizabeth smiled at Saul’s mother. “Guder mariye, Waneta.”
“It’s gut to see you here. Let’s go in, shall we?” She didn’t wait for an answer but slipped her arm in Elizabeth’s and sailed along to the front door with her.
Elizabeth glanced helplessly at Saul and saw him grinning at her.
“Samuel will be along as soon as he parks the buggy,” Waneta called over her shoulder.
Within a few minutes, Elizabeth couldn’t say she didn’t know anyone. Waneta introduced her to everyone she passed, so by the time they sat with the women waiting for the service to begin, Elizabeth wondered how she’d remember them all.
Saul took a seat in the men’s section and looked in her direction. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question and she nodded. His quiet smile warmed her heart.
The service began. Voices rose in pure harmony around her—hymns she’d sung at her church for as far back as she could remember. She began singing and felt peace settling over her. Paula had been right; she’d needed this.
One of the lay ministers spoke about Jeremiah 29:11: For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.
Elizabeth liked it. From the moment she had remembered the words about God providing for sparrows, she had felt comforted she would be provided for. She didn’t expect to just sit around without doing what she should for herself, but if He cared about little creatures like a sparrow, she felt He’d provide for her, too. Parents did it for their children and He was, after all, her Father.
All her life Elizabeth had heard about God’s will. Her grandmother had talked about it like God wielded his will like a giant whip to keep His children in line. But Elizabeth had been so unhappy she hadn’t been able to stay in Goshen. She’d run away, taken a road that led her here, and if this hadn’t been His plan for her, well, surely He would have stopped her, wouldn’t He?
Instead, she had a safe, warm place to live with a wonderful friend who treated her better than her family had. She loved her job, even though she knew it was temporary. And instead of one man, she had two who seemed interested in her.
Life is good, she thought, and she found herself exchanging a smile with Waneta as they began singing hymns once again.
Saul walked over to them after the service. “I hope you’re glad you came.” He turned to his mother. “We’re going to go have lunch. I’ll see you at home later.”
“Oh, no, don’t go rushing off!” Waneta exclaimed. “I have a few more people I want her to meet. Just a few more minutes!”
“It’s okay,” Elizabeth reassured Saul.
“Let’s go help with the food,” Waneta said as the men began moving benches around and creating places for people to sit and eat.
But just as they approached the kitchen someone called to Waneta, and she turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll be right there.”
Buoyed by the friendly reception she’d had so far, Elizabeth walked into the kitchen by herself. Two women her age had their backs to her as they unwrapped plates of food.
“So what do you think of the Indiana woman?”
Elizabeth stopped in the doorway. Were they talking about her?
“I can’t imagine Saul being interested in her. Lavina was much prettier. Wonder what happened to her.”
Someone touched her elbow and she jumped. She turned and found herself staring into the sympathetic gray eyes of a middle-aged woman.
“If you think that’s bad you should have heard how they used to talk about me,” the woman whispered. “Come on, let’s go outside and talk.”
Mystified, Elizabeth followed her.
Saul talked with a friend for a few minutes and then he looked around. His mother had promised she’d keep Elizabeth for just a few minutes, but it had now been fifteen.
He poked his head into the kitchen, but didn’t find either of
them there.
“Saul!” Lillian turned and smiled at him. “How are you?”
“Uh, fine, danki,” he said, staying in the doorway. She was either flirting with him or she had something in her eyes. “Have you seen Elizabeth?”
The eye fluttering stopped and her voice turned cool. “Is that the girl from Indiana I saw your mother sitting next to?”
He nodded. “Have you seen her?”
“Nee. So how have you been, Saul?”
“Gut. Uh—oh, Mamm, have you seen Elizabeth?”
She looked around. “I thought she was in here.”
“I’ll look outside.” He hurried away.
He found her standing near the front door, talking with Jenny Bontrager. He wasn’t surprised. Jenny would reach out to newcomers since she’d been something of one herself once. Although her father chose to reject the Amish faith, Jenny came here a few summers before she went off to college and to work for a big network in New York City.
Then a terrible bombing overseas changed everything for Jenny. Her grandmother, Leah King, invited her to recuperate here and Jenny married the man next door she’d loved as a teenager. Saul knew the story because some in the congregation hadn’t accepted Jenny at first and they hadn’t been convinced she’d really convert to the Amish faith—or stay.
They looked up as he approached.
“Elizabeth, there you are,” he said, relieved. “And you’ve met someone I was going to introduce you to. Jenny, Elizabeth here is a Bontrager. Daed said some Bontragers from this area moved to Indiana. He wondered if Elizabeth could be a cousin of your husband, Matthew.”
Jenny beamed at Elizabeth. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful? I’ll ask Matthew. He’s out of town for a few days.” She looked around. “Did your parents come with you today?”
Saul watched Elizabeth’s expression grow shuttered. “No, they’re back in Goshen. I’m here by myself.”
“Oh,” Jenny said. “I didn’t realize. Have you visited this area before?”
“No. I’m staying with a friend and working at Saul’s store. He brought me to church today.”
“I see,” Jenny said, and she gave Saul an assessing look.
A toddler squealed and ran toward Jenny. She scooped her up and planted kisses on her cheeks. “Elizabeth, this is Rosanna, my granddaughter. Say, Rosie, where’s your mamm?”
She glanced at Elizabeth. “I loved having children, but having grandchildren is even better!”
“Rosanna, you’re wearing me out!” a woman cried as she rushed up.
“And here’s my daughter, Mary,” Jenny said, smiling at her. “Ready to go?”
“More than,” Mary responded.
Jenny turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll be talking to Matthew. It’d be so nice to find out we’re all related. Have a wonderful day.” She nodded at Saul as she walked out the door.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked Elizabeth.
She glanced at the kitchen and frowned, then nodded. “More than.”
He looked back at the kitchen. “Something wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I’ll go get the buggy.”
“So, I finally get to buy you the Big Mac I promised you when I first met you,” he said as they rolled along the road to town.
“It’s not a date,” she reminded him.
“I remember.” He tried not to mind how firm she sounded about it.
She looked at him, then away. “It seems like such a long time ago, but it was just last month.”
“Still happy you’re here?”
“Of course. How much farther is it?”
“Not much. Are you hungry—or wanting me to stop asking you questions?”
She jerked around to stare at him. Then she pressed her lips together as if trying to suppress a smile. “A little of both.”
“I thought we could get it to go and eat at a park not far from here.”
“The park sounds nice.”
“Big Mac, fries, Diet Coke? Anything else?”
“Sounds good.”
She said it wasn’t a date but it felt like one to him as he drove them to the park and they got out to eat their meal at a picnic bench overlooking a pond. The park was small and few people were here today.
They talked about the week at the store, about the church service, and how fall was in the air. A mother walked with her little girl to the pond’s edge.
“So how did you fare talking to Jenny?” he asked her as he ripped open a packet of ketchup and squeezed it over his French fries. “Jenny’s notorious for asking questions. She was a television reporter years ago.”
“Jenny?”
“Before she came here to stay with her grandmother and married Matthew, she worked overseas. She used to be Englisch.”
She glanced over at the pond. The little girl giggled as several ducks ran up onto the grass and seemed to argue with each other who was going to be first to get the piece of bread she held.
He popped a fry in his mouth and chewed. “Bet Jenny could get you to talk, mystery lady.”
“I’m not a mystery lady,” she said quietly. “And if I told you about me, you wouldn’t think much of me.”
“Not true.”
She met his gaze. “I ran away from home because I got so tired of helping my family,” she blurted out. “There. What do you think of me now?”
The apartment was quiet when Elizabeth let herself in.
Paula snuggled under a blanket in the same corner of the sofa she’d been in when Elizabeth left for church. She clutched a handful of tissues and her face looked a little pink. Elizabeth thought about touching her forehead to see if she had a fever but was afraid of waking her.
She tiptoed into the kitchen, pulled a pot from a cupboard, and quietly placed it on a burner on the stove. Then she began assembling the ingredients for chicken noodle soup. The act of chopping onions and carrots and sautéing them in the pot soothed her. Soon the scent of simmering chicken noodle soup filled the apartment.
Paula sneezed and sat up. “Smells good,” she said huskily. She shuffled into the kitchen wearing pink pajamas and a pair of fluffy bunny slippers.
“It’ll be ready soon.”
“Good.” Paula took a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass, drank it down, then poured another.
“You look flushed. Have you got a thermometer?”
“Yeah.” She slumped onto a bar stool at the kitchen island and watched Elizabeth stir the soup.
“In your medicine cabinet?”
“Yeah.” Paula rubbed the glass over her forehead but she didn’t move.
Elizabeth bit back a smile. “I’ll go get it.”
“Thanks.”
She found the thermometer and when she returned to the kitchen she handed it to Paula. When Paula stared at it blankly, Elizabeth withdrew the thermometer from its case and held it out to her.
“I can’t pick your tongue up and put it underneath,” she said dryly. “You have to do it.”
Paula laughed. “Sorry. I feel like a slug right now.” She put the thermometer in her mouth. When she withdrew it she frowned. “It’s 101. Guess I’ll take something for it.”
Elizabeth went in search of some ibuprofen, and when she returned she found Paula sound asleep on the sofa. She woke her to take the pills with a glass of water, got her to take off her slippers, and covered her with the blanket.
She returned to the stove and stirred the soup, then set the timer before she went into her bedroom to change out of her Sunday dress. The soup needed to simmer, so she lay down on her bed and read for a while.
When she walked down the hall to return to the kitchen she heard a male voice. Very strange. She hadn’t heard anyone knock on the apartment door.
Then she stepped into the living room and saw Paula sitting up, leaning forward, and talking at her laptop screen. She saw the image of a man with short, blond hair dressed in the camouflage uniform of the military.
 
; “Elizabeth! Come here!” Paula said, waving her hand. “Jason, this is Elizabeth, my roommate.”
“He’s in the computer?” Elizabeth murmured as she walked over and sat on the sofa next to Paula.
“We’re Skyping,” Paula told her. “He’s sitting at a computer at his base. It has a camera on it just like this one. Say hi.”
“Hi, Jason.”
“Hey, Elizabeth!” Jason grinned. “I hear you’re taking good care of my girl.”
“I haven’t done much.” She glanced at the pot on the stove, not wanting a repeat of what had happened the other day. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you two talk. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Jason said. “Now, Paula, wait ’til you hear my good news.”
Not wanting to eavesdrop, Elizabeth hurried into the kitchen and peered into the pot. It smelled delicious.
But even though she tried not to eavesdrop, she heard kissy noises coming from the living room. She grinned and put the lid back on the pan.
Paula wandered back into the kitchen. “Jason had some great news. He’s getting some R and R—vacation time—next month. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
“How wonderful. Are you ready for some soup?”
“Love some.” She climbed back onto a bar stool.
Elizabeth carefully ladled soup into a bowl and set it in front of Paula. She fixed herself a cupful and joined her at the island.
“That’s all you’re having?”
“I had lunch out after church.”
Paula lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips and blew on it, then she put it into her mouth. “Mmm. This is good.”
She concentrated on the soup for a few minutes. Elizabeth ate her own soup and decided to go for another cup.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you how things went today,” Paula said. “Did you enjoy going to a new church with Saul?”
“It was nice.” Before she overheard the other women in the kitchen. And before she’d blurted out what she had to Saul.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Saul? Every day at work.”
AR01 - A Road Unknow Page 11