“Uh-huh.” Rachel nodded. “Did she suggest that you start to sell the supplements here at the inn as well?”
“Yes, but I told her no.”
“Good for you. I think I’ll pass too.”
Many Amish women were interested in nontraditional products that promised to make them healthier. They were quick to use the alternative medicines and salves, many of which were homemade. Some worked; some didn’t. Most didn’t do any damage, at least. Unfortunately, their interest in nontraditional medicines made the Amish perfect targets for pyramid schemes involving miracle supplements and products. They also had an almost limitless number of relatives to sell to within the Amish “network.”
“That is fine,” Bertha said. “I am not so sure that Martha knows what she is talking about anyhow.”
Bertha took off Anna’s kapp and laid it on the porch swing. Then she smoothed back her little sister’s hair and refastened the bobby pins that had come loose. It was a loving gesture Rachel had seen many times.
“Thank you for taking Anna to the doctor.” Bertha positioned Anna’s kapp back on her head.
“I want to feed my chickens,” Anna announced, her lollypop finished. “And find the eggs.”
“Maybe it would be best for you to lay down for a while, after the trip to the doctor,” Bertha said.
“No,” Anna said. “I will go feed my chickens. And find the eggs. And then I will peel potatoes with Lydia. I am a good potato peeler.”
“I have to leave,” Rachel said apologetically.
“But I need to talk to you, Rachel,” Bertha said. “It’s important.”
“I’ll be back sometime this week, Aunt Bertha. We’ll have time for a good visit soon.”
“So busy all the time!”
Rachel was grateful to see that Bertha had become distracted by Anna, who was walking toward the chicken coop. “Anna, I will give you another sucker if you will take a nap.”
As Rachel walked to the car, she heard Anna’s refusal. And in her rearview mirror, she saw Bertha trailing Anna to the chicken coop, still trying to talk her into having a rest.
Rachel loved her aunts so much it hurt—but sometimes she had no idea how to help them.
It also bothered her that Bertha had said she looked pale. Bertha paid attention to things like that and was seldom wrong. It was especially worrisome to Rachel because, when she had stopped at the pharmacy to get Anna’s new prescription, she’d slipped a pregnancy kit in with the purchase. When she got home, she intended to quietly use it and then bury it deep in the trash regardless of what it showed. With Joe worried about finances, this was not a good time to tell him that she thought she might be pregnant.
Chapter 10
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Bobby announced. “And Rachel is in there. Can I go outside?”
Bobby’s voice was hopeful. He had learned the little-boy joys of going behind the barn or against a tree or into the bushes while they lived on the aunts’ farm before Joe and Rachel had gotten married. The aunts had not minded. In fact, they seemed to take such behavior for granted. Unfortunately, living in town with neighbors on all sides did not deter Bobby from wishing for the outdoor freedom he had once enjoyed. With only one bathroom in Rachel’s house, the subject came up a lot.
Joe suspected that Bobby sometimes timed his need based on the bathroom already being occupied. He loved the child dearly, but ever since he and Rachel had married, Bobby seemed more determined to push the limits of Joe’s patience. Joe guessed that his son was still trying to figure out where the boundaries were in this new family they had created.
“No,” Joe said, “you may not go outside. Do you see me going to the bathroom in the yard?”
“No.”
“Okay, then.” He knocked on the bathroom door. “Rachel? You about done in there? Bobby has to go.”
He heard the commode flush and water in the sink.
“Just a minute,” Rachel said. “I’m almost done.”
She opened the door, and Joe was shocked to see that she had been crying. Her bangs were wet, as though she’d splashed water on her face to hide the evidence. As Bobby shot into the bathroom and closed the door, Joe leaned against the wall and said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I–I’m just upset over Anna’s heart condition.”
That made sense. Rachel wasn’t a crier, but she loved her aunt, and he knew she’d taken Anna to the doctor’s.
“Come here.” He pulled her into a hug and patted her back. “Anna will be okay…”
He was interrupted by a puzzled little boy coming out of the bathroom with his pants unzipped.
“What’s this?” Bobby asked, holding up a small, white plastic article.
For an instant, Joe wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
Then Rachel gasped. “That was supposed to stay in the trash can.”
“But what is it?” Bobby asked. “Is it a toy?”
Joe plucked it out of his son’s hands. He knew exactly what it was.
“I don’t know how to read this,” he said. “Are you, or aren’t you?”
Rachel hesitated. “I am.”
Joe felt a little light-headed. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because it’s lousy timing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you suspected?”
“I—I needed time to get used to the idea.”
Bobby zipped his pants, looking from one parent to the other. “What are you guys talking about?”
Joe glanced at Rachel and decided it would be best to wait to share the news with Bobby until after they’d had time to stabilize. They had wanted to have children together, but not yet—and definitely not when money was so tight. If Rachel was pregnant, he was concerned about her having to work when she didn’t feel well. Plus, there was no room for a nursery in their current house.
“I think it might be a good idea for you to go outside and play,” Joe said. “And don’t pee in Mrs. Leach’s bushes this time. I don’t want another phone call like the last one I got from her ever again.”
Bobby grumbled but grabbed his Nerf gun and took it outside to shoot.
“It will be okay.” Joe tried to reassure both Rachel and himself, but he was thinking that what he needed was to find a good job—and fast.
The problem was finding one with his very narrow skill set in Sugarcreek, Ohio.
Chapter 11
May thirteenth was a bittersweet day for Carl.
He approved of the outdoorsy woman who came to take Beauty to her forever home. The woman seemed kind and was quite knowledgeable about dogs. She told Carl that she was retired from teaching and had recently lost her dog companion of fifteen years. She said her home felt empty without a dog in it. Her hobby, now that she was retired, was hiking, and Carl knew Beauty would love exploring with her new owner.
Beauty took to the woman immediately, which was some comfort, and the woman seemed thrilled with Beauty. The happy, confident dog that wagged her tail as the woman petted her bore no resemblance to the cowering animal Carl had been given. He felt proud to have been part of her healing.
It also helped that he’d been given seven weeks to work with her. Beauty had needed every minute, but he was certain she was ready—especially since she would be going to such an ideal situation.
It was the best possible scenario for a rescue dog. He was happy for Beauty and the woman, except for the pain that seared his heart.
He wondered if it would ever get any easier. It usually took about six weeks of round-the-clock training and attention to get a damaged dog ready for its forever home. Beauty had taken a little longer because of her trust issue with men.
Carl poured his heart into his dogs, helped them heal, and trained them with patience and much praise. In turn, they gave him unconditional love…right up until the moment they walked out the door beside their new owners and he never saw them again.
What followed was always a period of deep grief, no matter
how hard he tried to fight against it. He had learned it was better to simply give up and accept the darkness of his spirit for a while. He would lay on his bed in silence for hours, replaying every step of the training and trust he had accomplished.
After a few days, when he had convinced himself that he had done the most professional job possible, had given the dog the best he had within him, only then did the darkness begin to dissipate. Soon there would be another dog and another challenge.
Some of the volunteers had informed him that he was the most successful trainer in the program. That did not surprise him…but he knew it wasn’t a matter of talent. It was because he identified so closely with the abused dogs that it often felt as though he read their minds.
One thing was for sure: he would never lack for an animal to love as long as the program continued. Nurturing the dogs back to health had become his sole purpose in life. They were a reason to keep breathing as his life drained away behind bars, one hopeless month after another.
Chapter 12
“Those two are a pair, are they not?” Naomi Yoder said with fondness.
Rachel sat on the Yoders’ front porch swing, watching Bobby and Ezra hitch the pony to the small pony cart.
“Peas in a pod,” Rachel said. “Like you and I were when we were little. We had some good days together.”
“Do you ever wish for those days back?” Naomi asked. “Or wish that you had made a different decision about the church?”
Naomi wore a light blue Old Order Amish dress and was letting her blonde, waist-long hair dry in the sun. She had washed it earlier that afternoon in preparation for Sunday services. Their long-standing friendship made Naomi comfortable enough to allow it to dry freely in front of her. Rachel wore jeans and a T-shirt. Both wore flip-flops.
“Do you mean do I regret choosing not to be baptized into the Amish church like my aunts had hoped?”
“Yes. Do you?” Naomi wrung a few more drops of water out of her hair.
“It was the right decision for me. I was already starting to rebel against all the rules and restrictions, and I knew I wanted to become a cop like my dad.”
“You went away for a long time,” Naomi said. “I missed you. You were not the same person when you came home. You were so…Englisch. It seemed like there was no Amish left inside of you.”
“I know,” Rachel said. “And I’m sorry. Getting through the police academy was tough. Working in downtown Akron for those few years was even tougher. It felt like I had to become a different person in order to survive. The job burned all the Amish right out of me for a while.”
“But some of it is coming back,” Naomi said cheerfully.
“What do you mean?”
“You are…how do I say this…softer now. Kinder. Not so suspicious. You feel like my friend again.”
“I am your friend,” Rachel said. “I had to harden myself to do my job, but I never forgot our friendship.”
“I’m glad.” Naomi rested her hand on Rachel’s for a moment and Rachel noted how callused and work-worn her friend’s palm felt. Naomi’s life was far from easy, and yet she never complained.
Rachel glanced over at her friend. “Do you ever wonder what your life would have become had you not chosen to stay Amish?”
“Of course!” Naomi chuckled. “I think about it every time I sit in my buggy in the dead of winter and a nice car drives by. I think about how soft the seats are in that car and how warm it is inside. But I also made the right decision for me. Luke would not have done well in the Englisch world…and I believe our people’s way is the best way to raise children.”
“I won’t argue with you there,” Rachel said. “I really appreciate your allowing Bobby to come and play with Ezra. School will be out soon. There will be days when Joe and I will need someone to watch him.”
“I enjoy having your son here,” Naomi said.
“Thank you. That makes me feel good. Many Amish mothers would be worried that having an Englisch child around might be a bad influence on their own children.”
“Bobby is filled with much energy but he is kind and respectful of our culture. He is very bright and already speaks some of our language. If you are not careful, you might find yourself raising an Amish child,” Naomi teased. “He seems quite taken with Ezra’s suspenders and hat.”
“I know.” Rachel laughed. “Do you remember how we dressed up in each other’s clothing when we were very small?”
“I remember my father being surprised when he came for me and discovered that I had turned into a little Englisch girl,” Naomi said. “And that you had turned into a little Amish girl.”
“And I remember my father apologizing,” Rachel said. “He hadn’t even been aware of what we were doing.”
“It was harmless fun,” Naomi said. “My father laughed about it later when he told my mother.”
“You had good parents.”
“I did.”
A comfortable silence settled upon them as they watched the two six-year-olds climb into the cart and start down the long driveway.
“What is in that gallon jar in the back?” Rachel asked.
“Milk,” Naomi said. “I told Ezra he could drive the cart up and down the driveway until the milk turned into butter. Then he must come and do his other chores.”
“That works?”
“It is a bumpy ride. It saves me from churning and gives purpose to their play.” Naomi said. “I have bread dough rising in the kitchen. By the time the butter is finished, the bread will be ready to put into the oven and the pony will be ready for a rest. While the boys are taking care of him, I will work the sour milk out of the butter. Then I will thank the boys for helping provide food for our table and reward them with fresh bread and butter for their lunch. Would you like to stay?”
“I’d love to,” Rachel said. “But I have to get going. I’ll pick up Bobby after work, if that’s okay.”
“I always enjoy having your son. Ezra sometimes gets lonely with no brothers or sisters to play with.”
“Perhaps that will change.”
Naomi looked away. “If God wills.”
Rachel did not press. “How is Luke doing?”
“The prognosis is good, but the chemo has taken a toll on his body. His spirits are positive, though. You know how Luke is, always having a bit of fun no matter what. He likes to tease the nurses at the hospital while they are putting the IV in his arm. They seem to be surprised that an Amishman can joke.”
“Luke is a good man.”
“He is,” Naomi said. “He was quite wild during his rumschpringa, but once he joined the church, he settled down and has been a wonderful husband.”
“We have been lucky in the men we chose,” Rachel said.
“We have been blessed,” Naomi agreed.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get home,” Rachel said. “How much do I owe you for yesterday?”
“I do not like to take money from a friend for merely looking after her child,” Naomi said.
“I know, but I’m so grateful to be able to bring him here,” Rachel said. “My aunts are willing to watch him, but Anna tries to keep up with him and her heart is not strong. It is a gift to know that he is here with you.”
“If you wish to pay something, you can,” Naomi said. “But I will not charge my friend. We are doing well enough. The men of our church are putting crops in for us while Luke is still weakened by his treatments, so we will have a harvest in the fall. I have my cow and garden and chickens, and I take in some sewing for my Englisch neighbors. I am content.”
“Of course you are.”
There were many subtle differences between the two cultures in which Rachel had lived her life. She had often noticed that her Englisch friends spoke of being happy or wishing they were happy. Her Amish friends rarely spoke of happiness as a condition to which they aspired. Instead, they often spoke of being content, as though that were the greater blessing of the two.
“There is one thing, though,”
Naomi said, hesitantly.
“Anything,” Rachel said.
“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you…”
Rachel went on instant alert. “What is it?”
“Someone took several bales of hay out of Samuel’s field last night. They put them in the middle of the road and set them on fire.”
“Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“Luke and Samuel think it was probably just some silliness by Englisch teenagers who don’t know what to do with themselves. You know that our people have always dealt with things like that by turning the other cheek. Usually when we don’t retaliate, the person gets bored and leaves us alone.”
“Is Samuel going to file a complaint?”
Naomi looked at Rachel as though she had said something stupid. “Samuel? Going to the police for a few bales of hay set on fire? It would take more than that for him to get the authorities involved. Besides, there wasn’t any real damage; it was only a matter of raking ashes into the ditch afterward. But I thought you might want to know about it.”
Rachel knew that Naomi was a great deal more concerned that she let on. Setting bales of hay afire in the middle of the road was only a couple of steps from setting a barn on fire—which all farmers feared and watched for. At the very least, it could have badly frightened a horse pulling a buggy if one had been traveling that road.
“Does Samuel have any enemies that you know of?” Rachel said.
“I don’t think so,” Naomi said. “Most people like him. He is new at his leadership role, but he is learning to be a good bishop. He and the church did have to shun that Hochstetler boy back a few months ago, but the boy moved to Kentucky and is living with some other relatives who chose to leave the church. No one has seen him around since.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Rachel said. “I’ll keep an ear out. In the meantime, if anything else like that happens in the community, please let me know.”
Chapter 13
Rachel's Rescue Page 6
