Daybreak: The Days of Redemption Series, Book One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Oh, she managed. You know Viola. She doesn’t have a shy or hesitant bone in her body.”

  “I believe the Bible talks about that, too,” she said dryly.

  He chuckled. “I’m sure it does. But Aunt Lorene, I think Viola had a good point.”

  “And what was that?”

  “That it’s good to have something to celebrate. Why be shy with good news?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said. After all, they’d more than had their fair share of bad news lately!

  “I know I am! You’re a nice lady, Aunt Lorene. You deserve some happiness and romance. I’m glad you and John came to your senses. I mean, you sure didn’t want to wait much longer.”

  “Yes, it would have been awful to wait until I was forty.”

  “Oh, to be sure.”

  The idea that he thought of forty years old as almost ancient amused her, though she recalled feeling much the same way when she was Roman’s age.

  “Lorene, are ya teasing me?”

  “Only as much as you’re teasing me.” They shared a grin, reminding Lorene of how blessed she was to have Peter’s children in her life.

  “Well, I suppose we should go into the house. We can stand together if Elsie or Mamm starts to tell us about their secrets!”

  “I hope we’ll be strong enough to bear the news well.” Unable to stop herself, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed lightly. Roman did lighten her spirit. “It has to get better. I guess we’ll see.”

  “Maybe I should start sleeping in the barn,” Roman joked.

  “Oh, I hope it wouldn’t come to that. You can always stay with me or Sam. We’d all do whatever it took to make sure you three kids are happy.”

  He turned back to her, all traces of humor gone from his expression. “But that’s the problem, Aunt Lorene. See, we’re not kids anymore. And we haven’t been for a long time.”

  She was starting to realize that.

  chapter twenty-one

  Staring out her kitchen window, Lovina watched her grandson walk his horse through the back field. Two years ago, a local farmer had fallen on hard times and had asked Roman if he’d accept the horse as a gift. The farmer could no longer afford to feed the gelding, but was so attached to him that he worried more about the horse having a good home than getting any money for him.

  Which, Lovina had privately thought, was a fitting example for why the farmer had been in financial trouble. If he’d simply sold the horse and moved on, he would have gotten rid of the animal and had some money in his pocket, too.

  She’d mentioned as much to Peter. Though he said he agreed, he didn’t stand in the way of Roman’s gift.

  “My boy loves animals, and has always wanted a horse of his own.”

  She had thought that was a rather poor reason to take on the expense of another horse. “Is it a worker?”

  “Oh, jah. Chester will make a fine buggy horse. And he’ll most likely ride it a bit, too. But that horse will also give him a lot of pleasure.”

  “An expensive way to make him happy.”

  Peter had simply shrugged. “Life is expensive, ain’t so? Having kinner, paying for animals. And fuel, and food. One more horse won’t make that much of a difference.”

  No matter how many times she’d try to make him see that he should be harder on his son, Peter had refused to yield to her point of view.

  Now, as she watched Roman lead Chester by his bridle through the snow, stopping every now and then to rub a hand down his neck, Lovina had to admit that she hadn’t seen anything as calming and peaceful as that in a long time. The horse seemed to appreciate the chance to stretch its legs, and the boy—who wasn’t much of a boy anymore—looked just as happy to be away from the chaos of their house. It was obvious that the horse and that boy needed each other. Even to her.

  Which, of course, brought her to thinking about what else she’d been wrong about over the years. Too many things to count.

  The only thing she’d never regretted was leaving behind her old ways and adopting Amish ones. That had always felt right.

  Turning away from the window, she leaned her head against the hard back of the wooden chair and tried to recall the moment she and Aaron had decided to keep her past a secret.

  Had it been when she joined the church?

  Or earlier?

  Maybe it had been when they’d both realized they’d done things that could never be erased. That seemed to be the far more reasonable explanation, she mused. Even as she realized she was lying to herself.

  Here in the solitary confines of the small kitchen, she knew exactly when they’d decided to rewrite her past . . . when they moved from Lancaster County to Holmes. They’d decided when they moved to Ohio that they would reinvent her background, so as to not invite questions.

  She’d been all for that. She had wanted to move to Ohio as Mrs. Aaron Keim, not as Lovina—a.k.a. Lolly—Johnson. She wanted to be known as the perfect Amish wife. Who always did the right thing.

  The woman whom Aaron was proud to call his own.

  Not Lolly, the impulsive, self-centered, vain girl she’d been.

  It had been hard work, pretending to be something she was not. Early in their marriage, when she was particularly irritated with Aaron over something, she’d yearned to pick up the phone and cry to her mother.

  Not that her mother would’ve been understanding at all. She’d disagreed with just about every decision she’d made about Aaron Keim. “You’re going to regret this, Lolly,” she warned. “You have no real idea about what is in store for you. The Amish aren’t like us.”

  “Mom, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know a single person who’s Amish.”

  “I know Aaron.”

  “Aaron is a good man.”

  “He’s far older than you.”

  “So?”

  “He’s had another life, Lolly. Pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t change things.” Her tone had held a thick note of frustration. There was much she wasn’t saying, but that they both knew—that his first wife and child would always be in his heart. “A man can’t help but compare the present with the past.”

  She’d secretly feared that, as well. Though no one else talked of it, Aaron had sat her down and told her the truth. All the truth.

  During that hour, he’d encouraged her to be as nosy as she’d wanted. He wanted her to ask as many questions as she could. Because, he warned, when that hour was over, he didn’t intend to ever discuss it again.

  So she’d asked. And she’d smiled. And she’d pretended to herself and her mother that the mere hour Aaron had allotted her had been enough.

  But it hadn’t.

  A timid knock on her door jerked her to her feet. “Yes?” she called out.

  “Mommi, it’s Elsie.”

  “Come in, child.” Her heart softened as she watched her granddaughter quietly enter the room. As always, Elsie had on her thick glasses. The heavy lenses magnified her brown eyes, but didn’t seem to help all that much. Though Elsie bore her disability stoically, Lovina feared that it was just a matter of time before she lost her eyesight completely. “And how are you today?”

  Elsie wore a wry smile. “Truthfully? Not so well. I’m worried about Daed.”

  “I am, too. Come sit down.” Hesitantly she reached out to her granddaughter to guide her to the chair.

  Elsie shrugged off her hand. “I’m not blind. Yet.”

  “I know.”

  She sat down and waited. Lovina wasn’t too good at this. She’d raised her six children by being strict and firm. She’d always thought no good came from coddling them.

  She treated Viola and Roman much the same way.

  But with Elsie? The girl brought out a tenderness from deep inside her that she hadn’t realized existed. Or, truth be told, she’d more likely hidden it deep inside herself. With Elsie, she wanted to protect the girl, and comfort her, too. And it wasn’t just Elsie’s disability that caused her to be
like this. No, it was more Elsie’s calm demeanor. It was soothing and gentle, as if God had given her all the best qualities from the rest of the family to make up for her failing eyesight.

  “Mommi, I don’t know what to think about Daed.”

  “I suppose not.” She opened her mouth to relay once again how disappointed she was in Peter, but held her tongue. Her criticisms wouldn’t ease Elsie’s mind. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I’m fine. I really just came over here to see if you needed anything.”

  “I don’t need anything.” It was true; she didn’t. She only had a lot of “wants”—for things she couldn’t change.

  “Grandmother, do you think I’ll ever find love?”

  Elsie couldn’t have surprised her more if she’d suddenly picked up a book and started reading it. “What makes you think about love, child?”

  “I’m not a child. I’m the same age as Viola, you know. And you never call her ‘child.’ ”

  “I don’t mean it how it sounds. It’s only a habit,” she countered. “But let’s concentrate on you. What has made you think about love?”

  “Viola. I think she’s in love.”

  “With Edward Swartz?”

  “Jah.” Elsie smiled sheepishly. “Mommi, she’s really head over heels.”

  Hearing the English phrase that had been so popular when she was a teenager almost made her smile. “That’s kind of sudden, don’tcha think?” she said lightly.

  “Yes, but she told me that she can’t help herself.”

  Lovina had been like that. When she’d fallen in love with Aaron, she’d practically leapt to a life with him. No difference in their ages or backgrounds had mattered. “I suppose we’ll all see what God has in mind for them.”

  Elsie’s brows arched over her glasses. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “You expected more?”

  “Jah,” she said slowly. “I thought for sure that you’d share your opinion.”

  “Sharing too much has gotten me into trouble lately. What does your mother say?”

  “Mamm? Oh, she doesn’t know about this. There’s no way Viola would tell her. Mamm would want to talk about all the pros and cons for hours.”

  That did sound a bit like Marie. Peter’s wife had always been one to carefully think things through. Since she wasn’t anxious to become embroiled in yet another problem in the house, she returned the conversation to Elsie. “If you aim to fall in love and have a man of your own, I guess you should keep your eye out.” Of course, the moment she said the words, she winced. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

  To her relief, Elsie chuckled. “I know what you mean. So, Mommi, you think it’s easy to fall in love?”

  “Nee. I don’t think it’s easy at all. Finding a partner for life ain’t easy. We all have good points and bad. Finding someone who is compatible is challenging, for sure.”

  “Is that what you did? You looked for compatibility?”

  Lovina started to nod but stopped herself. “Nee. That’s not what I did. I fell headfirst into love with your grandfather. So much so, I was willing to go against my parents and my friends in order to have a life with him.”

  Elsie sighed. “That’s what I want. The kind of love where you don’t have a choice but to follow your heart.”

  “I hope you find it then.”

  “And you’ve had no regrets?”

  The question hung in the air between them. Once again, Lovina realized she could be truthful or she could be as she’d always been.

  “I’ve had no regrets,” she said at long last.

  Elsie smiled in relief before standing up and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m glad we talked, Mommi,” she said before walking back out the door.

  “I am, too,” Lovina whispered. And more than that? She was glad she’d decided to lie.

  Because, of course, she had regrets. But if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that stewing over past mistakes did no one any good.

  Herself least of all.

  chapter twenty-two

  “I didn’t expect to see you today,” his father said from across the darkened room. “Edward, I told you to stay away until I called you.”

  “But I didn’t say I was going to do that.”

  After a stuffy sneeze, his father said, “You should listen to me. I’m still your father.”

  Ignoring that nonsense, Ed strode forward. “It’s good I didn’t listen and stopped by instead. You look worse, Daed. We need to get you to the doctor.”

  “I’ve already seen the doktah. He came by last night.”

  “Why last night?” Ed sat down on the side of the mattress. Even in the dim light, he could see his father’s scowl. He couldn’t recall his father ever liking to be fussed over, and it looked like some things never changed. “Why did he come last night? Did you get worse? You should have called me.”

  Before his father could answer, he continued. “Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come over.”

  “For what purpose? So you could stand against the wall and watch me get my temperature taken?” He scowled. “That, boo, was the last thing I needed.”

  “Daed.”

  With a raspy, wet cough, his father sat up and glared at him when he attempted to fluff the pillows behind his head. “He came last night because I called him myself.”

  “And?”

  “And, he told me to stay in bed and drink liquids.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed.” He coughed again. “Well, boy, since you’re determined to keep me from resting in peace, I suppose we should talk. Turn on my lamp.”

  Ed did as he was asked, anxious to examine his father in a better light. After scanning his face, he eased. His father might have a thick cough, but his eyes looked clearer and his cheeks had a bit of color in them. “You do look a little better.”

  His father rolled his eyes. “Danke. Now, I have to say that you don’t look well. In fact, you look like you have something on your mind. Do you?”

  “Yeah. Daed, I need your advice.”

  His father’s expression went from aggrieved to interested. “You do, huh?” He scanned the room with a frown. “Hmm. If you’re coming over, looking for fatherly words of wisdom, I think I’d better get dressed.”

  “There’s no need for that.”

  “There’s every need. Now, go stand outside the door and wait for me. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

  Ed was tempted to argue, but decided to choose his battles. “All right.”

  “Good decision, Edward.”

  Taking up his post outside the door, Ed felt a bit silly, like a child awaiting a meeting with his teacher. However, there was a part of him that was relieved. Selfishly, he needed his father’s attention, and they’d never had a serious conversation when his father was in his pajamas.

  When his father came out, he looked pale, but smelled like soap and fresh laundry. “Let’s go get some hot tea and talk, Edward.”

  “Should I go get your wheelchair?”

  “Nee. I can walk still. A little bit of exercise might do me good.”

  Once again, Ed bit his lip to keep from offering an opinion.

  When they sat down in yet another cozy room with a fireplace that was next to empty, Ed folded his hands on the table. Now that it was time, he hardly knew how to start.

  “Best get it over with,” his daed urged.

  “All right.” Looking squarely at his father, he said, “Earlier this week, I had a meeting with Mr. Cross. He’s head of Christian Aid Ministries Association.”

  “And?”

  “They want me to be the director of a mission in Belize.” He squeezed his knuckles together and took a deep breath. “And they want me to go down there next week to start setting up things.”

  “That’s sudden.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “And when would you go down there for good?”

  “Two weeks after that.”

  “Ah.” The
heavy coffee mug wobbled in his father’s frail hands as he picked it up and sipped. Taking his time, he swallowed and took another sip.

  Edward watched his father’s Adam’s apple move with each swallow, and reflected once again how many times they’d had much the same type of conversation. In the past, he’d usually been sharing good news.

  Now, though, it felt as if he was letting his father down.

  “I haven’t told them I would go. But they need to know today if I refuse the offer.”

  “Are you thinking that you want to refuse? Is that what you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to speak to you.”

  He looked flummoxed. “This ain’t my choice to make, Edward. It’s yours.”

  “But your opinion matters to me.”

  “I’m glad of that. But you’re a grown man, not a child. I’m not about to start telling you what to do. No matter what I say or think, the fact of the matter is you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.”

  “I see.” He felt curiously deflated. He’d hoped this conversation would erase all his questions and set him at ease.

  His daed’s eyes softened. “So, I won’t be telling you what to do. But I’ll be glad to listen while you think this through. What are you thinking?”

  “Too much,” he said in a rush, he was so relieved to have a sounding board. “I don’t know if I’m ready for the job. And I hadn’t planned on being gone so soon.” He paused. “I’ll miss you, Daed. We’ve barely had time to get reacquainted.”

  “There weren’t no need for us to get to know each other, Edward,” he said dryly. His gaze sharpening, he said, “Is there any other reason? Any particular woman you’re thinking of?”

  “It’s no secret that I’ve become fond of Viola Keim. But it’s too early to know if our feelings are real.”

  Ed took a deep breath and went on.

  “I think I might be falling in love with her,” he allowed.

  His father glowered. “You’re not sure?”

  “I’ve barely been back a few weeks. It’s too soon to be sure.”

  “Everything doesn’t need to be set in stone, does it? Just because you won’t be living here don’t mean you can’t continue to write. Does it?”