She leaned close to Bethany and whispered, “I wish the sisters would remember that I’m not in my eighties.”
Bethany grinned. “I have an announcement to make,” she said. Her eyes moved around the ring of faces, starting with Sylvia and ending with Edith. The room was so quiet, they could hear Naomi’s needle go through the quilt. The needle squeaked as she pushed it through the cotton with her thimble.
“I’d like to visit my mother,” Bethany said. “On the rotation schedule. I’d like to go with you. Each month. She’s my mother, even if she’s sick. I want to help take care of her. The caregiver said my mother’s best days were when the quilting ladies paid her a visit.”
For a long moment, no one said a word.
“Me too,” Naomi piped up. “I’d like to go too.”
More silence. And then Sylvia smiled. “Of course. Of course.” She looked at Edith. “That’s a fine plan, isn’t it, Edith? It’s the best plan of all.”
Everyone looked to Edith. “I suppose.”
“Then count on me,” Bethany said, and her heart was suddenly too full for words as she let her gaze roam lovingly over these women: the ancient sisters whose hearts were so large; Jimmy’s mother Edith, who wasn’t nearly as tough as she liked others to think; Naomi, her loyal and kind friend. It was a wonderful place to be, nestled in the heart of these good women.
They sewed quietly for a long time, no longer feeling a need to talk, until at last, Edith Fisher stuck her needle into the quilt and took off her thimble. “Somebody tell me where’s the time gone. I forgot all about refreshments.” She placed her hands on the side of her chair and hefted herself up. “I’ll put the teakettle on. Tea always hits the spot after an afternoon’s sewing. Did I tell you I’ve got shortbread?”
She took a few heavy steps toward the kitchen before stopping to place her hand on the back of Bethany’s chair and leaning over to examine the quilt in front of her. “Well, lands sake, those are real nice stitches. You’re coming along just fine.”
She looked at Edith and smiled, and, in her own stiff way, Edith smiled back.
Summer had a few days left to run, but here and there, spots of yellow and pale orange on the trees made it clear that fall was fast approaching. A gust of wind in the branches made a rustling sound, as if the leaves were made of paper. The sun shone bright and clear in a sky of brilliant blue.
Bethany was on her way to Eagle Hill after another session of cleaning out the Sisters’ House. Today, she thought she might just be making headway in the de-clutter process. A person could walk through the living room now without having to swerve around stacks of books or bags of quilt scraps. The sisters were still a long way from being ready to host church, but it was on the horizon. The far, far distant horizon. Especially now that the sisters had asked Bethany to supervise the Grange Hall Second Chance Café and she had said yes.
Shootfire! How did that happen, anyhow? One minute, she’s lugging the little red wagons over to the Grange Hall just to help the sisters. The next thing she knew, the sisters smiled their sweetest smiles at her and suddenly she’s in charge of the soup kitchen. But how could she say no? What would happen to all those down-and-outers if something happened to the sisters? They weren’t spring chickens, after all. A slow grin lifted the corners of her lips. Those sisters could talk the birds right out of the trees.
Bethany had one foot on the porch step of Eagle Hill when she stopped, spun around, and strode over to Naomi’s. She wanted to see how Naomi was faring after a fierce headache that kept her sequestered in the basement all weekend.
As Bethany walked through the privet hole, she noticed Galen standing by the far edge of the barn, talking to someone, slapping shoulders the way men do when they’re glad to see each other. She stilled, realizing it was Jimmy to whom Galen was talking.
She hung by the privet, watching the two from afar. She thought of the first time she had seen Jimmy, at the farmers’ market, and he was just a stranger, handsome and amusing, eyes with a fiery sparkle that caught girls under his spell. Not Bethany, of course, but most other girls. He was still a boy, she had thought then, in a man’s body. But Jimmy seemed different somehow, taller and older than just a week ago when he had come to talk to her at Eagle Hill.
She could hear the rumble of his laugh from where she stood. She loved that laugh of his, so kind and warmhearted. When he laughed, he reminded her of a feisty horse you couldn’t help but be fond of, full of life and spirit. With a start, she realized she had never felt happier than she did at that moment. No, wait. It wasn’t happiness she felt. It was joy. Something deep down that couldn’t be stolen.
Just then Jimmy caught sight of Bethany and snapped to attention. Galen noticed and politely absented himself, disappearing into the barn.
She waited for Jimmy to stride across the yard to come to her, as recommended by A Young Woman’s Guide to Virtue. A girl must never chase after a boy.
Jimmy did cross the yard, but he stopped a few yards away from her. Merriment sparkled in those blue, blue eyes. “Something on your mind?”
“Why yes, there is.” A voice that she was surprised to realize was hers said, “Jimmy Fisher, I love you.” Her heart beat faster. “That’s all I have to say. I honestly and truly love you.”
Jimmy looked at her intently for a long moment beneath his hat brim, then his blue eyes twinkled. “I know. I knew it all along. But I’m glad you finally got around to figuring it out for yourself.” A slow smile, homey and unhurried and sweet, like syrup over pancakes on a Sunday morning, spread across his face.
Naomi was right. No one had ever looked at her the way Jimmy did. It was the look of a man in love.
He opened his arms. “Come here.”
She walked toward him and he met her halfway, their lips meeting at the same time. It felt like home to be in his embrace, familiar and safe.
Rose’s Blueberry Buckle
¾ cup sugar
¼ cup soft shortening
1 large egg
½ cup milk
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups blueberries (fresh or frozen)
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix sugar and shortening, then add in egg. Stir in milk. Sift together and stir in flour, baking powder, and salt. Carefully blend in berries. Grease and flour a 9" square pan. Spoon batter into pan. Put on crumb topping before baking. Bake 45–50 minutes, depending on your oven.
———
Crumb topping:
½ cup sugar
½ cup flour
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ cup soft butter
Blend together with fin,gers and drop mixture on top of batter, spreading evenly.
Excerpt from The Revealing . . .
This secret life was doing her in.
At times, Naomi wondered how in the world she had become so secretive. She used to be the type who would answer any question, talk to anyone about anything. No longer. Maybe years of enduring dreadful migraines that had kept her pinned home so much of the time, waiting for the worst to pass, had made her more reticent and reclusive. Maybe it was because she’d never had a reason to keep a secret of this magnitude. Most likely, it was because she didn’t realize what she was missing until now. It was as if she had come out of the shadows and into the real world.
And it all had to do with Tobe Schrock.
Tobe was serving out a sentence at FCI Schuykill in Minersville for withholding evidence about wrongdoings in Schrock Investments, his late father’s investment company, from the Securities Exchange Commission. Minersville was a one-hour-and-thirty-one-minute bus ride from Lancaster, plus another twelve-minute bus ride from Lancaster to Stoney Ridge. Naomi had it timed to the second.
Except for today, when the bus to Stoney Ridge had run late.
As she walked down the lane, she tried very hard to do nothing but take deep breaths and think about Tobe. It helped a little, but
not enough. She found herself nervously twirling the strings of her prayer cap and forced her hands down by her sides. Stubbornly, she wrestled against the anxiety. If Galen was already home and asked where she had been, she wouldn’t lie to him. I will not lie. She had never once lied to him, though she didn’t tell him everything, either.
So if Galen was home, and if he did ask where she had been all afternoon, what would she tell him? The band around her chest cinched tighter and her pulse picked up speed. She would say that she had gone visiting a friend on a Sunday afternoon, which was true. And yet it wasn’t. Tobe wasn’t just a friend. He was much, much more than that. But Galen, her dear, intrusive, overprotective brother, could never understand that.
Naomi saw soft yellow lampshine spilling out the windows at Eagle Hill, the neighboring farm to the Kings’, as she walked down the dimly lit road. She wondered if Jimmy Fisher might be sitting in the kitchen, flirting with Tobe’s sister Bethany. He liked to stop by Galen’s to see the horses on Sunday afternoons, even though he no longer worked for him, and he always managed to end up at Eagle Hill at dinnertime.
Thinking of Jimmy Fisher made her smile, relax a little. He often seemed more boy than man, but she had a sense that there was a fine man inside of Jimmy, deep deep deep down, the way she knew it to be true of Tobe. She was a girl who trusted her instincts the way Galen trusted his horses.
Her brother bought young Thoroughbreds at auction, right off the racetrack, and trained them to be steadfast buggy horses for the Plain people. He had an uncanny way with the animals: gentle, firm, knowledgeable. He could read a horse the way most people read books. His Thoroughbreds were exquisite—finely boned, shining clean, muscled, well proportioned—and Galen could tell a story about each one, if he was in a talking mood, which wasn’t often.
She heard a horse nicker in the darkness and another one answer back, and panic swooped down and seized her from head to toe.
She couldn’t keep this up. She couldn’t keep the secret about Tobe much longer. Today he had promised her that the time was coming when everything would be out in the open. He said he would be released from prison soon. Any day now, he said.
But until then? Her hands were trembling and her stomach was churning and her heartbeat thundered. Galen must be home by now. The horses would need to be fed soon. She could practically hear them stirring and pacing in their stalls.
Oh . . . where had she left that bus schedule to Minersville? Where, where, where? If her brother found out she had been to see Tobe Schrock . . . at a federal prison . . . She cringed.
Naomi and Tobe were an unlikely pair, she knew that. He had been born Amish but spent his growing up years in a Mennonite church and remained unbaptized. Uncertain. Worldly. She was sheltered, overprotected by her brother because of her terrible migraines that tethered her home. Her life was on the horse farm that her brother managed. Her work was to care for their home, and be a part of the Amish church, and she loved her life.
Her brother did not think well of Tobe Schrock. It wasn’t just because of the recent troubles the Schrock family had with their investment company imploding—his disdain went farther back. He considered Tobe to be lazy and selfish, an opinion based on Tobe as a young teen. But Naomi saw past that and found so much more in Tobe. She believed the best about him. There was a fine man in there, a diamond in the rough, and she was desperately, hopelessly in love with that man.
She took two more Tums out of her dress pocket, chewed and swallowed so fast she didn’t even taste the chalky cherry flavor, turned down the wooded driveway of the King farm, and stopped short. There, in front of the house, was her brother Galen. He stood with his arms crossed against his chest, deep in conversation with Bishop Elmo and Deacon Abraham.
Discussion Questions
Finding a trunkful of human bones in the basement of the Sisters’ House might seem amusing, but it actually kicked off a theme of “skeletons in a closet.” Has there been a time in your life when you were faced with some unfinished business from your past? (By the way—finding a trunkful of human bones in an attic of an Amish farmhouse was a true story!).
Which character did you identify with the most? Why?
How were the concerns different for each of the characters: Bethany Schrock? Mim Schrock? Geena Spencer? Jimmy Fisher? Naomi King?
Sylvia, the youngest of the ancient sisters, gave this advice to Bethany: “You mustn’t blame yourself or look back—not any longer than it takes to learn what you must learn. After that, let it go. The past is past. But you’re still here,” she whispered urgently and exerted a gentle pressure on Bethany’s arms. “And I’m glad. You be glad too.” When might you have needed such advice?
How did Bethany’s view of herself change throughout the story? What contributed to that change?
All families face strife from time to time, just as Jimmy and his mother did. What were your thoughts when Jimmy decided to set aside his passion for horse training and return to the Fisher Hatchery to help his mother?
In spite of her headaches, Naomi is peaceful in her spirit. In what ways, surrounded by a troubled world, can we cultivate a spirit of peace?
Did you pick up on any clues that Stuck, who wrote letters to Mrs. Miracle, was Rusty? How did Mrs. Miracle affect Stuck/Rusty?
A person cannot change his or her past actions, but can they make up for the hurt they’ve caused by helping others? Does the good that Edith Fisher did for Bethany’s mother make up for the years of keeping her whereabouts a secret?
What did Ella’s lost thimble symbolize? How were other characters searching for something from the past?
How did reality measure up when Bethany met her mother?
Bethany obviously feels respect for Geena. How does Geena share the same high opinion for Bethany?
Another theme in this book is coming to grips with one’s past so one can move forward. Bethany longed to find purpose, Geena was seeking purpose, even Mim was looking for purpose with her secret identity of Mrs. Miracle. How did all three find purpose through serving others?
Acknowledgments
As the saying goes, writing is a lonely business.
It would be impossible to get books out into the world without a solid network of help and support. My circle is rich, and they deserve the small moments of attention here.
I could never get anywhere without the saintly team at Revell, welcoming the characters of Stoney Ridge with open arms. And deepest thanks to my editor Andrea Doering, for helping me find my best work, over and over again, and challenging me to be better than I think I can be.
Special thanks to my agent, Joyce Hart of The Hartline Literary Agency.
The Grange Hall soup kitchen is based on a true story. There is a woman in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mother Williams, who started a once-a-week soup kitchen while in her early eighties. She is nearly ninety now and still going strong. A remarkable and inspiring woman. It took five sisters in this story to match the energy and determination of one Mother Williams! Grateful to you, Becky Blakey, for filling in some details.
And last on the page, but not in my heart, thanks to my readers. The circle is not complete without you, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love hearing from you and listening to your stories.
Find me online at
www.suzanne
woodsfisher.com
or send me an e-mail at
[email protected].
Suzanne Woods Fisher is the author of the bestselling Lancaster County Secrets and Stoney Ridge Seasons series. The Search received a 2012 Carol Award and The Waiting was a finalist for the 2011 Christy Award. Suzanne’s grandfather was raised in the Old Order German Baptist Brethren Church in Franklin County, Pennsylvania. Her interest in living a simple, faith-filled life began with her Dunkard cousins. Suzanne is also the author of the bestselling Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World and Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life, both finalists for the ECPA Book of the Year award,
and Amish Values for Your Family: What We Can Learn from the Simple Life. She has an app, Amish Wisdom, to deliver a proverb a day to your iPhone, iPad, or Android. Visit her at www.suzannewoodsfisher.com to find out more.
Suzanne lives with her family and big yellow dogs in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Books by Suzanne Woods Fisher
* * *
Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World
Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life
Amish Values for Your Family: What We Can Learn from the Simple Life
A Lancaster County Christmas
LANCASTER COUNTY SECRETS
The Choice
The Waiting
The Search
STONEY RIDGE SEASONS
The Keeper
The Haven
The Lesson
THE INN AT EAGLE HILL
The Letters
The Calling
THE ADVENTURES OF LILY LAPP
(with Mary Ann Kinsinger)
Life with Lily
A New Home for Lily
A Big Year for Lily
A Surprise for Lily
Website: www.bakerpublishinggroup.com/revell/newsletters-signup
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The Calling Page 27
