The Harvest of Grace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Neither Leo nor Paul had seen Aaron in a month. Grey thanked the men and said good-bye.

  Michael took short, choppy breaths. “What have I done?”

  “You’ve been the best father you could be. Paul just said you even went with Aaron to talk to his counselor and to see the shop he wanted to buy. Those are good things.”

  Michael rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Dora pushed me to go. And I knew if I didn’t, Sylvia would never have the same respect for me. I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.”

  Grey didn’t know what to say, so he kept silent.

  “Aaron used to love farming. Did you know that?”

  “No.” Grey took a seat, knowing that Michael needed to talk.

  “When I started looking to move here from Ohio, he was just a teen, but he was already an amazing farm manager and worker. I was impressed, and I wanted to give him something he could be proud of—a farm with enough land to expand the herd as he saw fit.” Michael closed his eyes. “But he hates it now.” He rose and walked to the far corner, his back to Grey. “I have to stop lying to myself. It’s true. I’m as exacting and difficult as my Daed, maybe worse.” He turned, tears welling in his eyes. “You know when I began to see it?”

  Grey shook his head, silently praying for Michael.

  “When I saw myself through Sylvia’s eyes.”

  “Sylvia’s?”

  “Before Aaron came home, she respected me. But when she saw how I was with my son, my anger and nagging, she began to look at me differently. I kept telling myself she just didn’t understand, but I’m the one who’s been blind.” He blinked as if he’d just realized something. “I told Aaron he had no right to talk to me the way he did this morning or like he’s done in the past. But the truth is, he was trying to get me to understand him. And I couldn’t—or wouldn’t.” He slumped into the chair and put his head in his hands.

  Elsie had been similar to her father—they both felt deeply and shared little. Because of that, Grey had some insight that might help … if Michael would hear him. “No one in a household can decide what’s right for everyone else—not a husband, a wife, or a parent of grown children. But if everyone’s willing to listen, they can talk things out and find a compromise.”

  Michael sighed. “I’m afraid we’ve never lived like that. After burying six babies, Dora and I were a solid block of grief by the time we moved here. All I wanted was to give Aaron a farm he could develop. When he got fed up trying to turn a profit, my grief turned to anger. Nearly every word my son spoke added to my hurt and rage.” Tears spilled down Michael’s face. “I asked myself countless times why he abandoned us to go to Owl’s Perch. The real question is, why did he care enough to return with an offer for us to move back there with him?”

  “You’ll never know unless you ask.”

  Michael drew a deep breath and stood. “I have to find him.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “No, not yet. I need to do this on my own.” Michael opened the office door and paused. “There is one thing you can do.”

  “Anything.”

  “Pray.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Aaron stared at the hole twelve feet above his head. The blue sky above him faded, turning to a charcoal gray. Soon it would be as black as it had been when he’d fallen into this pit before daylight. The thought of facing a full night underground seemed intolerable, but for the first time in his life, he had no alternatives.

  He sighed, too exhausted to hold another raging vigil. He’d screamed in anger throughout the day—yelling at Daed, life, and most of all this stupid abandoned well. Now he sat in silence, staring upward, wondering if he’d die down here.

  His hands trembled, and his body felt heavier than it should—the toll of not having any food or water since last night’s dinner.

  Sylvi was the only one who might come looking for him. His Mamm might go to the porch and scan the farm, but she’d never think to wander a field in search of him. His Daed might consider it, but he’d never do it. He’d assume what was easiest to believe—that Aaron had run off.

  He wasn’t physically hurt, other than a few bruises and aching joints from landing so hard. But the pain in his heart was severe.

  He hated what it would do to Mamm if no one found him. She’d spend her life praying for him to return.

  Sylvia would blame herself, thinking that she’d run him off or that she’d caused him to take up drinking again. If she kept working the farm, she’d find him one day—or his bones. Then she’d know the truth … and blame herself more.

  Without water, he’d die in a matter of days.

  A crow cawed as it crossed the sky above him.

  Aaron’s mind kept running down various trails of thought, scattering like a handful of hay dropped from a high loft. He had no reason to reel in his imagination, so he let it meander.

  His father’s problems were bad. He needed room to grieve the loss of six cases of infant death and the death of his twenty-seven-year-old daughter, Elsie, as well as his disappointment in Aaron. And he needed to find ways to cope with his arthritis. But Daed’s bottom-line problem was that he was never grateful for what he did have. When each new loss hit, Daed took on more pain without ever having freed himself from the previous hurts. Aaron understood how it happened but vowed that he would cope differently.

  He closed his eyes, listening to the wind move across the summer grass. He breathed in the aroma of the rich soil and remembered the conversation he’d had with Sylvi about seeing God in the nature around her.

  “Okay, God, I hear You.”

  As clearly as if he were talking with Sylvi, he could hear God inside him, chastising him for all his years of feeling sorry for himself. Being truly thankful would give him power over his desire to escape. It was the ultimate freedom from the day-to-day heartache and grind of living.

  He leaned his head back against the cool, craggy earth and began telling God everything he was thankful for, beginning with the walls around him and the ground under him. As the hours passed, his faith grew.

  He began to see the farm the way Sylvi saw it—beautiful and strong. A heritage that their forefathers sacrificed for, regardless of the cost. They understood the toil it would take and yet were grateful for the chance to work the fields.

  While it made no sense, trapped as he was, he’d never been more content.

  “God, please get me out of this pit. I want … I need a second chance with Sylvi.”

  Aaron said that prayer countless times in between his lists of things to be thankful for.

  “Aaron!”

  Chills ran over his body, and he stood up. Was he imagining things? The voice sounded like … his Daed’s.

  “Down here! Daed, can you hear me? I’m down here!”

  His Daed continued calling to him, and Aaron kept screaming. Daed called. Aaron answered. And nothing happened.

  How many times had they been this close and yet unable to see or hear each other?

  “Daed!” Aaron screamed with all his might.

  His father’s voice faded into nothingness, leaving only the sound of the wind crossing the fields above him. Aaron closed his eyes, trying to hold on to hope. Wanting to believe he’d get out of this prison. In his mind’s eye he saw the farm—the green pastures, growing crops, and meandering herd. Sylvi’s cabin. The main house.

  They looked different from down here.

  Digging a fingernail into the packed dirt, he breathed in the smell of rich soil, and he could feel this place inside him now. Sylvi felt it so deeply, and he wanted a chance to give it back to her.

  “Aaron?” His Daed’s voice returned, sounding hoarse. Aaron couldn’t believe he hadn’t given up. Maybe he didn’t know his Daed as well as he’d thought.

  “Daed! I’m down here, in a hole in the ground! Can you hear me?”

  Silence. Aaron prayed. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Daed!”

  �
��I hear you. But where …”

  “A hole. Look for a hole.” He could hear noises, scrambling of some sort. Dirt from above fell on his head.

  “Aaron?” His Daed set a kerosene lamp near the edge of the hole.

  “I’m here. You found me.” Relief and excitement ran like a stampede through him. He’d been given a second chance—or maybe it was his third or fifteenth. How would a former drunk know? How did anyone know?

  Daed’s face poked over the top of the hole as he reached as far into the well as he could. “Are you hurt?”

  Aaron reached for him but couldn’t come closer than two feet from his fingertips. Still, he found peace in the near connection. “No. I just need a way to get out.”

  “I’m so sorry, Son.” His Daed sobbed.

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. You told the truth, and I knew it when I heard it. We’ll get you out of there and really talk. I love you, Son. Hang on, and I’ll be back as quick as I can with a ladder.”

  Aaron sank to a sitting position again and began making a fresh list of all he was grateful for.

  Lena sat on her bed, writing to Grey. Months of his letters surrounded her. Most nights she opened and read every one of them, but she hadn’t seen him, except at a distance, in nearly a month. Nicky lay on the cool floor, panting.

  Michael had come by yesterday, looking for Aaron. Thankfully, Aaron dropped by earlier this morning to assure her he was safe. He didn’t stay long enough to tell her much of anything, only that he wasn’t missing and that a driver was waiting to take him to Owl’s Perch.

  “Lena?” her Daed called as he tapped on her door.

  “Kumm.”

  He opened the door, but he didn’t enter. “I came to tell you that there’ll be a family meeting downstairs within the hour. Your siblings and their families will start arriving in about forty minutes.”

  Excitement scuttled through her. “A meeting on a Saturday night? This must be really important. What’s up?”

  A grin made creases around his eyes. “You don’t want me taking time to answer your questions when I brought someone to see you.” He moved to the side.

  Grey stepped into her room, and happiness flooded her.

  “Grey!” She flew into his arms.

  Daed laughed and closed the door behind him.

  Grey caressed her cheek, and the warmth of his hand strengthened her. “Hi.”

  He pulled her into a hug and held her for several long moments before he raised her chin and kissed her.

  She gave a final squeeze before going to her reading chair, removing a few articles of clothing hanging over it, and gesturing for him to sit.

  She sat on the edge of her bed. “Do you know what this family meeting is about?”

  He nodded. “I won’t stay for it. It’s for family, and your Daed assures me most of your siblings still don’t know about us.”

  “True. Are you sworn to silence about the meeting?”

  “No. Actually, your Daed and Ada think you should know before hearing it with everyone else.”

  “Daed and Ada?” She resisted the desire to let out a holler of excitement. “He must’ve asked her to marry him.”

  “He did, and she said yes.”

  “This is fantastic!”

  “It is.” He grinned. “But there’s more. Israel wants to give you this house.”

  Lena’s heart leaped. Marrying Grey, raising a family with him, and living here would be the fulfillment of every dream she’d ever had. “How do you feel about that?”

  “We have so many great memories here—a lifetime, really. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather live.”

  She crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “You’re not just saying that because you know it would thrill me?”

  He trailed his index finger along her jaw line. “If my only reason for doing it was for you, that’d be more than enough reason.”

  She soaked in his assurances, knowing he loved her just as her mother had promised her before she passed away: When the time is right, you’ll be drawn to the right man. And he’ll be drawn to you. And he’ll love you deeper and higher than most men are capable of. I promise you that.

  Thirty-Nine

  Sylvia sat on the porch with her parents and Lilly, rocking the glider back and forth. Thoughts of Aaron swam through her day and night, even in her sleep. She’d been so angry with him before she left, and she longed to find him and talk it all out.

  The sun hung low in the sky as Sunday drew to a close. This was the kind of Sunday she’d missed so badly her first few weeks on the Blank farm. But now her family surrounded her, and she’d never been so lonely.

  She’d been here since Friday afternoon. Whenever the family shared a meal, Sylvia had to answer dozens of questions about living on the Blank farm. She kept pointing out to Daed how safe and happy she was there, but he still wanted her to stay home.

  Beckie didn’t want Mamm or Daed or any of their sisters to know what had happened between Elam and Sylvia. Sylvia didn’t ask why, but she hoped that the reason had more to do with keeping peace among the family than personal embarrassment on Beckie’s part. Maybe her little sister was finally maturing.

  Sylvia had spent two days thinking about her future and Aaron. She knew without a doubt what she wanted. “Daed.”

  He propped his arm on the back of the porch swing he and Mamm shared. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m going home in a few days.”

  “This is home.”

  “It’s the home I grew up in. And I’ll keep it in my heart every day. But it’s not my home. Remember when I was little, you’d always say, ‘Someday you’ll have a home of your own’?”

  “I want you here. We can make this work.”

  “No, Daed.” As she spoke, she could feel the impact Aaron had had on her. “Just because you want something from me, that doesn’t mean it’s reasonable to expect it.”

  Lilly squeezed her hand. “Hmm, I think those words must be from the book of Aaron.”

  She and Lilly had stayed up late last night talking, and Sylvia had told her all about Aaron.

  “You shouldn’t have insisted I stay here after Elam married Beckie,” Sylvia said. “I needed to go.”

  Daed glanced at Mamm before nodding. “I’ve had time to think while you’ve been gone. I was trying to keep my family together and all my daughters safe.” He shrugged, looking pained that he’d lost the battle. “But now I can see that sometimes home isn’t the best place for a daughter to be.” He sighed. “So is the Blank farm home from now on?”

  “No.”

  “What?” He frowned. “Then where are you going?”

  “Wherever Aaron goes. If he’ll have me.”

  Lilly squealed. “I thought you must be in love with him.”

  Sylvia knew she might have quite a road ahead of her to win him over. It might take a good bit of patience, but Aaron was worth it. “We’ll most likely live above an appliance store, at least for a while.”

  “You hate stores,” Mamm said. “You’re barely willing to go in a store to sell yogurt or pick up an item or two. You’ve never bought fabric because it takes too long to pick it out, and you feel sick by the time we’re through.”

  “I’ll use my will to get over it or ask a doctor for an allergy pill or something. It has to be something like fumes or dyes that bother me, right?”

  Daed smiled that gentle, knowing smile that defined him so well. “You’re determined. I see it in your eyes. You go, Sylvia. Wherever you land, we’ll come visit you when we can.”

  Forty

  Sylvia had called Ephraim’s shop early Monday morning and left a message for Trevor to pick her up today, Tuesday, as soon as his morning chores were done. That would put her back on the farm in time to have lunch at the Blanks’ table. If Aaron was still on the farm, she imagined they’d set aside farm work for the afternoon, take a long walk, and talk until time to milk the cows that evening. If he’d already m
oved to Owl’s Perch, she’d go there.

  Either way, she intended to talk to him today, to apologize and pledge to help him make a success out of the appliance store—if he’d have her. She didn’t have any skills to offer him that would be useful off the farm, but she’d do her best to learn.

  Mamm sat in the rocker next to her, shelling peas. Her Mamm found shelling peas as relaxing as Sylvia did taking baths. All her sisters were nearby, on the porch or in the yard, waiting to tell her good-bye. Beckie and Elam sat on the steps, holding hands while watching their twins play. The three of them hadn’t handled a lot of things right, but healing had begun—thanks to Aaron.

  She couldn’t wait to tell him.

  Daed came out of the house with a glass of water. He motioned for Lilly to get up. When she did, he took her place next to Sylvia.

  Daed put his arm on the back of the swing and laid his fingers on her shoulder. “Girls,” he said, and all her sisters immediately turned to look at him. “Go play or something. I want to talk to Sylvia.”

  They quickly dispersed. Beckie and Elam went for a stroll toward Mamm’s vegetable garden, each one holding a twin’s hand.

  Her Daed reached into his pocket and pulled out two folded checks. “I shouldn’t have kept your wages this long. You know it’s typical for parents to keep the largest portion of earnings throughout their child’s teen years. I had no right to keep holding the money from you this long, but I was afraid you’d take it and move off. Since you’re determined to leave either way.” He passed her one check.

  Sylvia unfolded it and about jumped out of her skin. “Thirty-five thousand dollars?”

  “It only amounts to a little over two hundred dollars a month for all those years you worked this place seven days a week, from the time you graduated from the eighth grade until six months ago.”

  “Ya, but during that time you gave me some spending money each month.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

  Her Daed didn’t like to talk finances with a woman, so she’d wait and ask Aaron if she owed taxes on it.