The Patch of Heaven Collection

by Kelly Long

But he did know that the Lord gave back. That God was capable of restoring the lost years, capable of healing the pain. And he knew that he was part of that giving back to Grace.

  He was determined to be part of it.

  “Grace,” he whispered, “I want to help make your life better. To give you joy and peace. It doesn’t matter to me if we never have another child. I want you to be healed.”

  “I know. I believe that of you.” Her lips quivered as she managed a faint smile. “But I don’t know how to do that—to be healed.”

  “You can’t heal yourself,” he said. “Only der Herr can do that. And I have to tell you the truth, Grace. So long as you let him, Silas Beiler is going to be a ghost between us—a ghost that I can’t fight.”

  She began to cry, and Seth moved closer to gather her in his arms. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. That’s not what I want.”

  She looked up at him, her violet eyes flooding with tears. “Don’t tell me that everything will be fine if I just let Silas go. You don’t understand. You’re perfect, whole; I am flawed and damaged.”

  He moved closer to stroke her hair. “Grace, I dreamed of you the night before our wedding. I slept under a quilt called Bachelor’s Choice. The legend is that when a man sleeps under it, he’ll dream of the woman he’s to marry. And I dreamed of an Amish woman with pansy-colored eyes, porcelain skin, and black silky hair that was short, so short. That confused me, but in that dream, as I tried to hold you, something sinister rose up from the ground and came between us.”

  He moved his hand to her shoulder and then to cover her heart. “I know you are troubled inside. Let me help. Please.”

  Without warning she slipped an arm up behind his back and pressed her mouth against his.

  Seth Wyse had kissed any number of girls, but this wasn’t like any of them. It was a simple kiss, just her mouth against his, and it was one of the most intimate things he’d ever encountered in his life. Colors flashed behind his eyes, golden-hued starbursts and green, fertile valleys. He had difficulty focusing from the sheer, stilled exuberance he felt.

  Maybe Gott was teaching him a lesson. Because, for the first time in his life, he experienced the true wonder of a kiss.

  CHAPTER 28

  Alice lay awake while both Abel and Pretty snored beside her. The furry body next to her stretched and shifted, and she gained comfort from the pup’s nearness.

  Maybe she should get a dog. They’d never had one; Bud had been allergic.

  The thought jarred her awareness: she was a widow now. Single. Alone. Not for the first time, she felt like an alien. What did she think she was doing? Here she was, in a bed in a farmhouse in the middle of Pennsylvania Amish country, instead of in the home that Bud and she had built over all their blessed years together.

  But that house held only emptiness—Bud’s watch, his glasses, his Bible. His things, his spirit, his memory. But not him.

  Everything had happened so fast. The diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, a few months of treatment. And then he was gone.

  The morning he died she had gotten him breakfast; he’d eaten a little, then she’d wheeled him back to the home hospice bed where he spent most of his time. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. She had tried not to panic. She turned up the oxygen to its full five liters, called an ambulance, and listened while Bud breathlessly fussed at her for it. She tried to give him some morphine to relax him, but by the time the ambulance got there, it was too late.

  She’d been allowed to ride in the ambulance, but before they could get to the hospital, the love of her life had turned ashen and gasped uselessly like a fish on dry land. A ghastly, wide-mouthed, gaping caricature of all she had known and loved.

  The doctor had said that he was in agonal heart rhythm but was no longer breathing. Alice had kissed his still-warm cheek and said good-bye. She couldn’t bear to stay when she knew he was gone. She went outside to wait for her sister to come get her, and sat on a bench outside the ER as it thundered and poured rain.

  As if the earth itself shared her mourning.

  She curved closer to the dog and tried not to think anymore. But she couldn’t bring herself to pray.

  Grace knew she was dreaming but was caught in the horror of the moment and could not make herself wake. She was trapped beneath the ice with Silas; she saw his body, foreign and familiar, blue and gone. She tried to come up through the same hole into which she had fallen, but she could find no escape. She wanted to cry out, but icy water filled her throat. She was suffocating, collapsing, dying. She sat straight up in bed and screamed.

  Seth was beside her, holding her. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? A bad dream? Tell me about it,” he urged softly.

  “I—I was with Silas, under the ice, under the water. He wanted me to be dead too.”

  “It’s over now. You’re with me, and I want you to be alive and happy.” She could feel his chin on the top of her head, and then she listened in wonder as he began to pray for her out loud.

  “Dear Lord, thank You so much that You have ordained things so that Grace is my wife. Comfort her, free her from the past, and help her to remember that You love her. Help her to know how beautiful she is on the inside. Painter, Father, take the past and reframe it into something beautiful, bright with new color. In Your Son’s name, I pray.”

  Grace felt him draw away from her and she missed the comfort of his touch. She found herself longing to turn to him, to kiss him as she had done the night before, but she resisted.

  It was almost dawn. The grace of the prayer still lingering in her ears, she would get up and begin the new day with the new blessing.

  Tobias Beiler grabbed his pen and journal and lay down on the small bed. He had already been up, milking and feeding the cows, even though it still wasn’t light. He was unused to such manual labor; it didn’t suit him at all. Still, the rewards of being so close to Grace far outweighed any pain he felt.

  He began to write:

  My dearest bruder, Silas, how unfortunate that you can no longer enjoy the pleasures of your wife. I have crept close enough to the Wyse farm to see her at her chores. It comes to me, through a vision of the Lord, that there must be some way to rid the delightful Grace of her burdensome younger husband. Surely such a young man cannot manage the headstrong, sinfully beautiful woman that she is. And as you are caught beneath the ice, I will take the place that you can no longer fill . . .

  He jumped at the sound of a knock on the door and thrust the journal beneath his mattress. “Jah?”

  “Be you well, Abraham?” Mr. Zook’s voice came, faintly concerned but also irritated. “There is work in the fields.”

  Tobias flung the door open and smiled. “Simply looking for a pair of gloves. I’ll come now.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Seth came in from putting up the horses, tired and dirty. He and Grace were scheduled to go to Jacob and Lilly’s for dinner. He wished it might be another night, but it was a good opportunity to get out with Grace. He greeted Abel, who was playing with marbles on the floor, and smiled at Alice. Violet was nowhere about. Grace was washing cups at the sink.

  “You look pretty,” he said

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “You look dirty. You’d better hurry.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Seth said. “It’ll only take me a minute.”

  “I could bring you some clean towels.”

  “Offering to assist me in my bath?” he asked.

  Grace shook her head at his foolery and gave a warning glance over her shoulder at Alice.

  “Well, bring them in then, if you please.” He headed up to their room and within a minute or two heard her stumping up the stairs on her cast.

  “Your towels,” Grace said when he opened the door.

  “Would you like to come in for a minute?” he asked.

  Her eyes strayed to his chest. “We’ll be late.”

  “Sometimes being late is worth it. Do you know how many family dinners Jacob and Lilly have arrived to flushed and late over the
past months?”

  She shook her head. He smiled and closed the door softly behind them.

  Her heart fluttered like an excited bird as she gazed up into his deep blue eyes. She said the first thing that came to mind.

  “You look tired.”

  “I am.”

  “Ach, then maybe we should wait until—”

  “Until what, Grace?” He reached to take the towels from her and tossed them on the bed.

  She wet her lips. “I—I don’t know.” A thought crossed her mind abruptly. “Have—have you kissed other girls before?”

  He turned his eyes away.

  “Have you?”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  She spun from him and sat down on the edge of the bed, her knees together, her hands clenched in her lap and her chin tilted upward. “I want to know.”

  He moved to kneel at her feet. “What do you want to know? And why?”

  She forced herself to answer. “Because you know about my . . . past. I want to know about yours.”

  He took her hand and laid it over his heart, pressing her fingers to his skin.

  “Grace, you alone hold my heart and always will.”

  “I would know,” she insisted.

  He smiled and let her go, sinking back on his legs to put his hands on his thighs. He looked up at her.

  “Sweet, sweet Grace, very well. There was my first kiss—”

  “How old were you?” she snapped, surprised at the prick of jealousy she felt at his honest words.

  “Fifteen . . . Her name was Ada, an Englisch girl, visiting the Amisch country from Ireland. She tasted of fresh mint and clover and—” He half closed his eyes.

  “All right,” Grace cut him off. “I get Ada. Who else?”

  He tilted his head, considering. “Mary and Martha. They were twins, not very charitable to one another but especially indulgent where I was concerned.”

  Grace huffed with displeasure. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Ellen was Englisch too. Her daed had a big house. He was never home—”

  “All right, Seth Wyse!” She slapped her palms on her knees and stood up, hobbling past him.

  “What? You asked.” He stared at her innocently.

  She ground her teeth in frustration and whirled to go out the door, trying to ignore the sound of his soft laughter behind her.

  When she gained the hall, she pressed her back against the wall, attempting to compose herself. But the words she’d demanded of him echoed in her head and she feared that she would never be good enough to match the memories that burned in his brain.

  Seth lifted one of the cotton towels from the bed and went to splash water on his chest and arms. He knew enough about women to know she was jealous.

  Which meant she cared.

  At least a bit.

  CHAPTER 30

  The evening had cooled, and fireflies had begun to make their appearance. Against his will and common sense, Luke King decided to drive over to the Wyse farm.

  His older brother James stood at the barn door blocking his way. “Where are you going at this hour?”

  Luke scowled. “Out.”

  “Out why?”

  “James, come on, let me by. I need—well, I need to talk to Seth Wyse about Lacy’s lameness. Wondered if he could do something to help.”

  James laughed. “Why not ask Grant? He’s a vet.”

  “Seth knows about as much.” Luke hitched up the buggy and mounted the seat.

  “And he houses a cure for what ails you.” James laughed again.

  “Forget it. Just move.”

  James stepped aside with a graceful bow. “Of course. Happy courting.”

  Luke glared at him. “I am not—”

  But his bruder had already turned back to the barn. Luke grasped the reins with one hand and swiped at his hair with the other. Even if it was a fool’s errand over a meddlesome and provoking girl, he’d look half decent doing it.

  The summer twilight blanketed the buggy in soft darkness as Seth, Grace, and Abel drove the short distance to Lilly and Jacob’s house. Abel was mesmerized by the hundreds of lightning bugs out in the fields, blinking like a silent symphony, a chorus of soothing wonder.

  Alice had elected to stay home and study her Pink Lady sales brochures, and Grace had convinced Abel to let Pretty stay home as company for Alice. Violet, distracted and dreamy, had also declined.

  Jacob answered the door wearing his best green shirt, and suddenly it felt like a party atmosphere. “Come in,” he said. “Lilly’s mamm is at her support group tonight, so we are alone.”

  Seth watched Grace talking to Lilly and hoped that the two would become even better friends. Maybe Grace would open up some with his bruder’s wife.

  As he hugged Lilly in greeting, he felt the slight curve to her stomach and laughed out loud. “I forgot in the whole marriage business that I am soon to be an onkel!”

  Everyone laughed, then Abel spoke up. “Who’s my uncle?” he asked. “Nooooot Uncle Tobias?” The boy began to frown.

  “Nee,” Seth said calmly. “Your uncle is Jacob.”

  Abel’s face lit up. “I have a gut uncle, an uncle, an uncle . . .” He played out loud with the word as if testing the sound for its value and meaning.

  “What is that delicious smell?” Grace asked.

  “Well, I have to confess.” Lilly smiled. “I’m cooking Indian food. Curried chicken with apples and avocado. Since I’ve gotten pregnant, I’ve been craving spicy foods. I found this recipe in a cookbook in Lockport, and Jacob will eat whatever I give him. I hope you all like it.”

  Seth found the meal a bit odd, but delicious. They finished with a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, and Abel ate two slices. The boy obviously preferred sweets to salty foods, yet he was lean as a willow switch.

  During coffee, Jacob asked, “How are things going with you two?”

  Seth reached down and petted Love, the dog. He avoided looking at Grace.

  “Fine,” Grace answered. “We’re doing very well.”

  Seth tried to take this as a good sign. After all, Jacob and Lilly had struggles in the beginning, but somehow the Lord had helped them work through them. He hoped God would do the same for him and Grace.

  Finally Jacob rose from the table. “It’s time for chores. Let’s leave the womenfolk alone. Abel, do you want to come with us and help?”

  Abel looked at his mamm in faint alarm. She touched his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay if you’d like to stay here and do some coloring books or play with something that Lilly has around.”

  Abel nodded, and a light went on in Seth’s head. What was the difference, he wondered, between coloring books and painting? He’d have a conversation with Grace about that issue later.

  He put on his hat and followed Jacob out to the barn.

  “Well, how is it going?” Jacob asked once they’d begun to rotate feed among the stock.

  Seth shrugged. “I think I made her jealous tonight, before we came.”

  “What did you do now?”

  “She asked me about my past—with girls, you know. I told her a little.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You never tell a woman about other women. Even I know that.”

  “What about you and Sarah?”

  “There was no me and Sarah—only in my imagination. But you—you’ve kissed more girls than I care to count.” He shook a long finger in Seth’s face. “You never kiss and tell. What is wrong with you?”

  Seth sighed. “I’m desperate, I guess. Do you know what it is to have the woman of your dreams within arm’s reach and find her cool as alabaster? A snow maiden, trapped by her own past.” He looked at his brother seriously. “Can you give me some more advice, Jacob, about when you were first married? I know there were problems, but with Grace it seems so difficult—she is so distant.”

  “You need to take time to learn little things about her. I mean, you know she quilts, and she’s probably terrified of honeybee
s now, but what else? What really makes her tick?”

  Seth thought hard. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s what I mean—you need to get to know your wife. Believe me, I did a lot of time praying in this barn, and to tell the truth, a lot of bawling, when Lilly and I were first married.”

  Seth thought on his bruder’s words and did not know how to respond. He looked around at the warm barn as if it might hold an answer. The smell of the hay drifted on the summer night air.

  Jacob studied him and Seth tried to avoid his brother’s eyes, but Jacob was persistent. “What happened after the bees? Did she talk to you at all?”

  “No, not really. She actually found my painting room and discovered a painting that I had been working on of her and Abel.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “She was not happy. I told her that it was not the way I wanted to paint her, though.”

  “How do you want to paint her?” Jacob arched an eyebrow.

  “I want to paint her as she is to me—a deep pond with vibrant colors around it. A pond with rocks, so the stream that trickles into it can make music. A pond with trees that burgeon with color, and ripe with fish and turtles and frogs and—”

  “You want to paint her like a frog?”

  “No, of course not.” Not for the first time, Seth found himself frustrated with his brother’s concrete way of thinking. “You can’t understand. I’m trying to get at the hidden reserves of strength that I see in her. She’s so much more than just a beautiful woman, Jacob.”

  “Well, I told you that,” his brother said with a laugh. “And it sounds like you’re growing up a bit, Seth Wyse.”

  “Yeah, but in a lot of ways, it’s like she’s still a stranger. I hate to say it, but I think I know Abel better than his mother.”

  “She is not a stranger. Come on. You can make a difference with her, I know you can. And I know it sounds narrisch, but once you discover that closeness, you can change the world. Seth, look at what happened with Lilly’s mom—we were able to help her and save her life.”

  “How is Lilly’s mamm, anyway?”

  “Well, tonight she’s off to her support group, and we make sure she keeps up with her meds. She’s doing very well, actually.”