The Patch of Heaven Collection

by Kelly Long

“You too, Sarah. Really.”

  What exactly is your problem today?” Seth asked in a conversational tone.

  “Nothing.”

  “Uh-huh . . . well then, married life must not agree with you real well, because you’re meaner than that cat of grossmudder’s who takes your eyebrows off whenever . . .”

  “Not today, Seth.”

  “All right, all right.”

  Jacob walked to the other side of the round pen where they were training a two-year-old Country Saddler to get used to pulling a buggy. He didn’t mean to snap but he’d had no chance to talk with Lilly; she’d been gone before he was awake, leaving him breakfast warming and no note. Not that he’d be able to decipher it anyway. Truth was, he was mad at himself for losing his temper and still mad at her for not trusting him.

  He glanced up at the racket. Seth had attached a tire rim to a rope fastened to the horse’s harness. The clatter of the rim along the ground was meant to simulate the metal wheels of the buggy and allow the animal the chance to become accustomed to the noise.

  Jacob automatically gave the horse some praise as he circled past, patting the animal’s rump and muttering low in his throat. Then he tried a vocal command they’d been working on.

  He yelled, “Ho!” and the horse paused, slowing, but still not stopping completely.

  “Let’s take off the tire rim,” Jacob called. “He’s not ready yet. We’ll just work with the carrot stick and basic commands today.”

  Seth moved toward the horse while Jacob gathered up the metal garbage-can lids he’d hoped they might use to create sound once training had progressed. He took the lids back into the barn and laid them on a shelf as a realization hit him.

  He needed to be as patient in his marriage as he was with his work. The irony of the bishop’s wedding vow question came back to him, and he frowned. He hadn’t really been as gracious and generous in spirit to his own wife as he was being to the young horse outside. And how would he have felt if he’d heard gossip about Lilly and—his throat caught—Seth. The memory of his brother holding Lilly made his throat ache, and suddenly he understood.

  Lilly couldn’t help clasping and unclasping her gloved hands as Jacob drove the horse and buggy toward Lockport Hospital in the light of the wintry afternoon.

  Finally Jacob’s hand came down to cover hers, and she looked at him.

  “I’m sorry, Lilly, about last night. I shouldn’t have been sarcastic. I know I hurt your feelings.”

  Lilly breathed a sigh of relief. she’d prayed throughout the day as to how to handle the situation with Jacob, knowing that she should never have given in to the poison of Mrs. Zook’s tongue. And her visit with Sarah had helped so much. So right for Jacob. The words echoed in her mind and allowed her the ease of forgiveness she might not have been able to give otherwise.

  “Oh, Jacob, you’ve done so much for me and what you’ve offered for Abel. Please forgive me for doubting you. And . . . I have to tell you.” She paused, gathering courage to speak. “I went to visit Sarah.”

  “You did? What about?”

  “About my feelings of being jealous. I wanted to confess that to her and to wish her well with the baby.”

  Jacob shook his head.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Lilly, you’re amazing to me. I tell you that I understand how you must feel and you leapfrog over my simple answers to something so much more real. Do you know what courage you have? How you face life head-on? You might want to be free sometimes, but there is already something free and wild in you. Call it your spirit or your soul. It just . . . it calls to me.”

  She sat silent beneath the praise of his words, drinking them in.

  “Lilly, I did see Sarah yesterday, for less than two minutes. And, you should know, I felt nothing, nothing special at all.”

  She turned to him with a half smile playing around her lips.

  “Do you know what, Jacob Wyse? I choose to believe that—at least, I think I do.”

  He nodded, tightening the reins as he navigated around a slight corner. “And that is more than enough for me, Lilly. The fact is that I’m honored to wait until you’ll give me more of your trust, when I’ve had the chance to earn it.”

  Lilly studied his profile; there was no doubting the sincerity of his voice. Dare she believe the whole of his words? If Jacob was no longer in love with Sarah, then perhaps . . .

  “Here we are.”

  She looked up to find they were at the entrance to the hospital. Although she’d visited with her mother often, and had extensive talks with the counselor from Lancaster, she still felt unprepared for her mamm’s homecoming. There were so many things that could happen. She had seen a genuine improvement in her mother’s mood, appetite, and energy level. She just prayed that the transition would go well.

  They took the elevator to the familiar fourth floor. When they stepped out, Dr. Parker turned from the nurses’ station to greet them.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wyse. I wonder if you might come and meet with me and the visiting Amish counselor for a few minutes before you see your mother.”

  “Is something wrong?” Lilly asked when they’d been shown into a small conference room.

  “No, certainly not. Please sit down.”

  Lilly sat and Jacob moved next to her, letting his heavy arm fall around her shoulders.

  The Amish counselor, Julia Chupp, entered with a smile and sat down across the table.

  Dr. Parker cleared his throat and looked intently at Lilly. “We’ve learned a few things over the years, Mrs. Wyse, about clinically depressed patients who’ve attempted, but not succeeded, in a suicide.”

  Lilly swallowed at the use of the word, having tried not to think of it directly, even as her mother had been recovering.

  The doctor continued. “We’ve learned that it’s necessary to consult with the families and involve them in the total treatment plan, including plans for the patient’s discharge and aftercare.”

  Mrs. Chupp nodded. “And Dr. Parker understands the importance of the unique needs of your mother—her cultural needs as an Amish woman in relation to her depression. In other words, part of her healing needs to be addressed in terms of her faith.”

  Everything started to sound a lot more complicated to Lilly. She concentrated hard as Dr. Parker handed her a stack of papers.

  “In addition to these release forms, I’ve included a great deal of information for your family. You will note we’ve made some specific appointments with aftercare providers whom Mrs. Chupp has met and approves of.”

  “There are other doctors?” Jacob asked.

  “Yes, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and appointment times for a small group—a support group—of other Amish women who’ve gone through this illness in the area.”

  Lilly looked up in surprise. “Others?”

  Dr. Parker nodded. “Yes, and not just from your community but from surrounding Amish communities as well. A higher-risk patient, like your mother, is identified and given priority in scheduling aftercare appointments to ensure her linkage with outpatient services. There’s also a schedule of her medicines for you to monitor.”

  “Higher risk . . . you mean she could try to . . . again?”

  Mrs. Chupp reached across the table and patted her hand. “That’s a family’s greatest fear. Although it’s possible, your mother has responded well to treatment. You’ll have to be aware of the risk and signs of any regression in her behavior, but you cannot sit up nights worrying about it. The medication can also help a great deal.”

  Lilly lifted the sheath of papers, feeling slightly overwhelmed, but grateful for the support that seemed to be so well established for her family. Nonetheless, she cast a beseeching look at Jacob and he bent to kiss her cheek.

  “It’ll be all right, Lilly,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.”

  She nodded, looked up, and flushed as she became aware of Dr. Parker’s kind eyes.

  “Shall we go and talk with your mother?”

>   “Jah,” Lilly whispered, feeling her heart begin to pound.

  Jacob was pleased to see his mother-in-law looking so fit. She was dressed neatly and her hair was tucked beneath her kapp. she’d also gained a little bit of weight and the shadows beneath her eyes seemed to have almost disappeared.

  The ride home was uneventful. He was pleased to hear Mrs. Lapp speak in normal tones with Lilly. When they entered the Lapp home and had removed their outer clothes, Jacob noticed that his mother-in-law clutched a black notebook in her arms as if it were of the greatest importance to her.

  “Have you been writing, Mrs. Lapp?” he asked, gesturing to the notebook as Lilly made tea.

  “Please, Jacob, call me Mamm. I should have suggested it before, but . . .” She gave him a shy smile and held the book up. “This is my journal from my time at the hospital. I wrote in it every day. It helped me express a lot of thoughts and feelings about my marriage and Hiram’s death. I plan to continue writing in it.”

  “That sounds gut, Mamm,” Lilly observed from the stove. “I . . . I also wanted to tell you that, upon Dr. Parker’s recommendation, we changed your bedroom. It’s a lot brighter and softer. Alice, Edith, and some other friends came to help.”

  “Ach, I’m so glad. I was dreading going back upstairs to that dark room. I seem to like the light more now and realize that I must have some sunshine every day.”

  Jacob was amazed at the change in her, but he felt cautious, watchful, especially after Dr. Parker’s talk.

  He waited while Lilly saw her mamm up the stairs at bedtime. Then she soon joined him in the sitting room.

  “Mamm fell asleep so quickly after her medicine. The papers say we should keep an eye on whether or not she takes the medicines, especially when she starts to feel even better than she does now.”

  He nodded. “I forgot to ask you how Abel was today.”

  “Absent,” Lilly said flatly. “I hope he’s there tomorrow, but there’s no telling.”

  “Well, I’ll drive you there in the morning and then pick you up. If the buwe’s about after school, maybe we can have a lesson.” He paused to think. “What about your mamm—should she be left alone?”

  “Ach, Mrs. Chupp and the bishop have arranged a schedule of regular visitors to minister to her for the next two months at least. She won’t be alone long at all.”

  “Gut . . . that’s really gut, Lilly.” He cast his eyes about the room, not wanting to go to his bed on the floor but seeing no choice in the matter either.

  He moved to brush his lips against her cheek, lingering for a moment, until he had to pull away. “Good night,” he whispered, then turned to go to their room.

  CHAPTER 37

  S leigh bells rang out merrily, and Lilly smiled at the spray of snow Thunder kicked up as the cutter flew along the road to school. It had snowed the night before and Jacob had surprised her by bringing round the sled instead of the buggy. They’d left her mamm in good spirits after seeing to her needs and knowing that Mrs. Loder was due to stop in early that morning.

  Her satchel of books bounced against the sled robe and she laughed aloud with delight as they sped down one hill and up another in a stomach-lifting thrill.

  She felt Jacob’s eyes on her. “Do you want to drive?”

  “What? Thunder? I don’t think so . . . we’d end up in the field.”

  He handed her the reins, enclosing her small hands with his own much larger ones. Thunder sensed the change in drivers because he tossed his head and dropped his pace a bit.

  “Just hang on and let him know where you want to go. You’re in control. It’s almost like driving the buggy.”

  He withdrew his hands and waited while she frowned, then tentatively snapped the reins. “Go on,” she encouraged. “I’ve got to get to school on time, big fella.”

  The horse drew to a stop and Lilly huffed at Jacob.

  “A stubborn student,” he observed. She wasn’t sure if he meant her or his horse. She turned her gaze to Thunder’s broad back, then she made an imitation of the clicking combination sound followed by the rumbling hupp she’d heard Jacob use. The horse pricked his ears. She did it again louder, then slapped the reins. They were off down the lane, the landscape whizzing by. She turned briefly to grin at her husband.

  “Horse talk!” she shouted. “Anyone can do it.”

  He laughed aloud and took the reins as they pulled in to the school yard. Lilly was about to accept his praise when something caught her eye. A broken window in the side of the building, jagged with pointed glass, reflected in the sun’s early morning rays. She felt her stomach drop and then saw that the schoolhouse door stood wide open.

  “Ach, Jacob. Something’s wrong.”

  “Stay here a minute. I’ll have a look. It was probably just some kinner playing ball.” He handed her Thunder’s driving reins and went to the open door. When he didn’t return within a few moments, Lilly jumped down, tied Thunder to a hitching post, and followed Jacob inside. She climbed the steps of the porch and then stood, frozen in amazement, as she stared at the interior of the classroom.

  The students’ wooden desks had been overturned and spray painted bright yellow and orange. Papers, supplies, and artwork were strewn and torn, some blowing forlornly from the wind that whistled in through the broken window. The chalkboards were spray painted as well. The welcome tree was torn in long strips with the snowflakes crumpled and trampled on the floor. Her desk had been upended and the wood deeply gouged. Its drawers had been flung about and emptied of everything. Even the new corkboard had been torn down and shredded, and her Bible lay facedown and open on the hardwood, treated so harshly its spine had cracked.

  She automatically moved to pick up the Bible first, clutching it against her as she stood beside Jacob, who surveyed the scene with his arms crossed against his chest. Other Amish schools had been vandalized in years past, she’d known, but nothing like this had ever happened at the Pine Creek School. Her initial feeling of shock was fast turning to anger as she glanced at her brooch watch and realized that the students would be coming soon.

  “The children will come. I can’t let them see this. Whoever did this deserves to be—”

  “Why?” Jacob turned to look down at her, his expression calm.

  “Why, what?”

  “Why can’t the students see? It’s their school.”

  She bristled. “Jah, and it’s supposed to be a place of safety and peace. Not this mess.”

  “They can help you clean it up.”

  She looked at him like he was narrish.

  “What’s wrong with you, Jacob? Do you see this? How would you feel if it were your barn, your horses?”

  He laid his hands on her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. “Lilly,” he said softly. “Remember, forgiveness first. Then you can be angry or hurt. Don’t forget the ways of our people, our history. Forgive first. Extend grace.”

  Something quieted in her soul as she listened to him. He was right. Whoever did this deserved forgiveness just as the Lord forgave her when she sinned. She took a deep breath. “Danki, Jacob, for reminding me. It is . . . not so bad. We can straighten things out and pray for those who did this. Then we’ll have school as usual.”

  Jacob gave her a quick hug. “Gut. Gut teacher.”

  The students began to file in, their initial reactions very similar to Lilly’s until she gently reminded them of what Jacob had brought to her heart. Even Abel, who at first appeared bewildered, seemed to understand as he bent to pick up some papers.

  They all worked together as Lilly began to hum some hymns and Jacob rode off to notify the school board. Within two hours, things were put relatively to rights, and she was able to work through an abbreviated daily schedule, calling on the younger students to come forward to recite their arithmetic.

  Jacob decided the cutter was the fastest way to travel on the snowy roads and gave Thunder his head, soon arriving at the bishop’s farm. The old man was carrying a bag of feed over one shoulder wit
h ease as the sled came to a stop.

  “Jacob Wyse . . . spending time alone with your horse, hmm? How is your fraa?”

  Jacob smiled and hopped out, wanting to take the 120-pound feed bag from him but knowing he’d only insult the man. “I’m afraid there’s been a bit of trouble, Bishop. The schoolhouse was vandalized sometime during the night. I left Lilly and the children there to finish with the cleaning up.”

  “Bad off, was it?”

  “The window needs to be replaced and desks need some repairing. The spray paint needs to be removed. The corkboards are gone and the blackboards aren’t in very good shape.”

  “Let me put this in the barn and go tell Ellie. I’ll ride over with you and have a look.”

  Soon they were headed over the roads and Jacob noticed that the bishop smiled at each dip and turn. “Now, this is gut for my heart, Jacob. Danki.”

  “My pleasure. And my horse’s, of course.”

  They were about to turn down the lane to the schoolhouse when the unfamiliar blip of a siren startled Thunder and he crow-hopped and began to gain speed. Jacob pulled him up as a police cruiser eased alongside them.

  “Oh, boy—” the bishop muttered as they both recognized the face of the young officer who’d invaded Sarah’s wedding.

  The policeman slid down his car window. “Hello . . . um . . . uh . . . I’m Officer Mitchell. Probably you might know me from that time I acted like a fool at a wedding of yours. But, I’m trying to learn . . . uh, anyway, I got two kids in the back here. I think they might be Amish, or at least one is. I wasn’t sure what to do. I caught ’em early this morning spray painting the back of the post office in town. I wondered if you’d had any incidents out your way.”

  The bishop cleared his throat. “Jah, the school’s been vandalized. But, we tend to handle these things by not involving outsi—the Englisch law. We have our own ways.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve been studying on that. I . . . uh . . . can you give some advice on what to do about the kids?” The officer’s face looked even younger than before against the white of the background snow.

  Jacob felt compassion for him. “May we see them?”