by Beth Wiseman
“Don’t worry.” Mary Ann reached forward and patted her hand.
“But I don’t understand what—”
“You don’t need to. Gotte will provide the answers and the direction you need.”
With that, she stood, waving away their offer to help. Leaning on her cane, she stumped down the hall to her new bedroom.
Danny and Emma stared at each other for one minute, then two. Finally he cleared his throat. “She’s something else, Mary Ann is.”
“I think maybe my mamm has misunderstood our relationship.”
“Maybe.” He smiled down into his mug of hot tea. “And maybe not.”
Emma didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained silent.
What was the money for?
What were they to do with it?
Had it actually been buried in the garden since the 1940s?
Danny seemed in no hurry to go, and Shadow was still in the barn with Joseph.
Unable to resist, she pulled the bundle toward her and ran her fingers along the time-worn string that bound it.
“Want to help me count?” She suddenly felt emboldened. They had never been poor. Even since Ben had died, they’d been able to meet their financial needs with what was saved.
But this?
With this stack of money they had different options available to them. They could use it to help other people. She wondered if Ben had known. What would he have advised her to do? Then she looked up at Danny, and somehow knew he understood what she was thinking.
He reached over and squeezed her hand.
Together, they cut the string surrounding the bills and began to count.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Later that evening after dinner, Emma carried fresh sheets and blankets out to Joseph.
He’d pulled down an old cot from the attic and set it up in the corner of Ben’s office, which was now quite clean. It still smelled of horses and hay and tackle, but the room was warmer than the stall. He wouldn’t need a heater, and she was thankful for that. Heaters in barns worried her. On any farm, fire was a constant fear.
She would rather have him in the house, but Joseph seemed to still need his space. Perhaps a little privacy would allow him to work through the things that still haunted him. Perhaps in the barn, among the animals he obviously loved, he could once again find Gotte’s wille for his life.
Joseph helped her with making his bed. As they worked, he talked about Shadow and Danny and how he’d like to learn to train dogs. Maybe one day, he would have a place where he could raise litters, train them, and then sell the pups to good homes.
It was the most she’d heard him say.
Perhaps the words and dreams that had been bound inside of him were suddenly freed.
The thought made Emma happy. There had been many days in the last year where she found it was an effort to endure the hours from sunrise to bedtime. Other times the days had merged together, and she found little to look forward to. Seeing Joseph smile made her realize that though her children were grown and living in homes of their own, she could still be a help to others.
Was that what Mary Ann was trying to tell her?
Was that why she’d chosen to reveal the treasure?
Emma had thanked Joseph for his hard work that day and was turning toward the barn door when they both heard the clatter of buggy wheels. Grabbing a large battery flashlight, she and Joseph hurried out into the night at the same moment. The lamplight from the kitchen spilled out across the yard. Emma was able to make out Bishop Simon as he stepped down from his buggy and began to walk toward their door.
“Bishop?” Emma called out as she rushed to meet him. “Is everything all right?”
Joseph was hurrying along beside her. She could feel him tense. Was this about his parents? Were they going to insist he return home?
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late.”
“It’s no problem. Was iss letz?”
“I’ve brought Nancy and her boys. I’m afraid there’s been another . . . incident.”
“She’s here? Now?”
“Ya. Waiting in the buggy.”
Emma didn’t stay to hear another word. Her pulse had kicked up a notch, and her mind was racing. What had happened to Nancy? Were her boys all right?
Then she walked around to where Nancy waited in the back seat of the buggy with her children. The moment Emma saw her, she knew the details of what had happened weren’t important. All that mattered was that they provide this family a safe place to stay.
Nancy’s lip was swollen, recently cut open by the looks of it. The black eye Verna had spoken of during sewing circle had turned a deep purple. Nancy’s older boy was huddled next to her, his face hidden, pressed into her dress. The youngest was in her arms sound asleep.
“Nancy, wilkumm. Let me help you out.”
Nancy said nothing, but when she stepped out of the buggy, Emma saw how dangerously thin she had become. The boys wore clean clothes, but when the oldest looked up, the fear in his eyes tugged at her heart.
They moved quickly inside the house. Nancy and her boys sat at the table. Bishop Simon stood at the door, watching the darkness outside. Joseph shifted from one foot to the other, as if unsure whether he should stay.
“Joseph, didn’t you offer to help Danny with some home repairs early tomorrow?”
“Ya.”
“You best go on to bed then. We’re fine here.”
He glanced from Nancy to the bishop to Emma, and then he shuffled out into the night.
“Let me find you some dinner.”
“It’s enough for you to let us stay. You don’t have to feed us as well.” Nancy’s voice was strong and her eyes resolute. How did she manage to hold herself together after all she’d endured?
“Of course I’ll feed you, and I trust you will accept my hospitality. Now would your boys rather have cold ham or cold chicken?”
“Both, p-p-please.” The oldest boy kept his hands folded on top of the table. He was close to five years old, if Emma remembered correctly, and he had his father’s blond hair.
“Jacob, Emma might need to save some of that food for—”
“Nein. It’s leftovers and I already have a casserole put together for tomorrow.” She placed the platters of meat on the table and added fresh bread and cheese. It wasn’t a perfectly balanced meal, but it would do for an evening snack.
Jacob didn’t touch the food. Instead he bowed his head and waited for his mamm to indicate it was okay to eat. Her eyes met Emma’s, and Emma saw the tears she was valiantly holding back. Nancy touched her son’s head and whispered, “Amen.”
The boy reached for a piece of fried chicken. When his teeth sank into it, a smile covered his face. “Th-th-this is gut, Mamm.”
Nancy stared at her son, then looked at Emma. “Danki.”
“Gem gschehne.”
In that moment they had more in common than one would have imagined. They were two moms who cared immensely for their children. They were two women whose lives had taken unexpected turns, leaving them alone without their husbands. And they were two members of a community who cared for one another.
Nancy’s younger son, Luke, began to fuss, nudging her as if he wanted to nurse.
“You’ll be comfortable in the upstairs bedroom, first one to the left. The boys can sleep with you or in the room next door.”
Nancy stared at Jacob, uncertainty and worry filling her eyes.
“I’ll bring him up when he’s done eating.”
“All right.”
Simon motioned Emma into the mudroom once Nancy had gone. “I have three bags of clothing in my buggy. I’ll go and fetch them.”
“What of Owen? Will he be looking for his family?”
“Nein. He’s in town courtesy of the Shipshewana police at the moment.”
“The police?”
“Drunk driving.”
“Oh my.” Emma had heard of folks being arrested for driving an Englisch automobile while drinking,
but she’d never heard of anyone being arrested while they were driving a buggy!
“Captain Taylor phoned me and asked that I send someone for the horse and buggy, which I’ve done. They’re going to hold him for at least twenty-four hours.”
“It was a gut time for Nancy and the boys to leave.”
“Yes.” Simon ran his fingers through his beard. “This is temporary, Emma. I spoke with Owen, and he seems repentant, but I doubt he has the strength to resist his addiction.”
“What will you do?”
“Minister to him. Encourage him to seek an intervention at the center in Elkhart or Goshen. After this, I think he will.”
“And their farm?”
“Neighbors will care for the animals and his crops. I need you to provide a safe place for them to stay, if you’re willing.” He hesitated, then continued. “In my opinion, it would be better if Nancy and the boys weren’t alone, and Owen will more likely agree to treatment if his family is gone.”
“Of course, but I don’t know anything about helping an abused woman.”
“Love her, Emma. Offer the entire family our Lord’s grace and mercy. Feed them. Pray for them. Gotte will take care of the rest.”
He brought in the bags of clothing, and Emma promised she would take them upstairs. Mary Ann had slept through the entire episode. The less folks tramping up and down the stairs the better.
She tapped softly on her guests’ door and then opened it.
Nancy sat in the rocker near the window. Her babe was asleep in her arms. Jacob had carried one of the bags of clothes, which he set down near his mother, kissing her, and then his baby brother, before sitting on the bed.
Emma placed the other two bags underneath the hooks they used for hanging clothes.
Was this all she had left? All she’d brought from her home? But her home was still there. It hadn’t blown away in some storm. Perhaps with Gotte’s help, Owen would be able to return to it whole and ready to care for his family.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
Nancy nodded and swiped at the tears cascading down her cheeks. Emma’s heart broke for her again, so she crossed the room, enfolded Nancy in her arms, and let her cry.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mary Ann didn’t seem a bit surprised to have extra people eating breakfast with them the next morning. As Emma placed raisins and brown sugar on the table, then brought the pot of oatmeal from the stove, she couldn’t help smiling. A week before it had been the two of them, but their lives had turned and taken an entirely new direction.
Emma’s mind flashed back to the afternoon she had knelt in the garden and swiped her dirty fingers against her clean apron. It had left a brown mark, but one that had washed away after two launderings. In a similar way, Christ washed away their sins. He never failed to offer them another chance.
Joseph was talking to Jacob, telling him about Shadow. Luke lay in a cradle Emma had found in one of the upstairs rooms. Often it had been used for her grandchildren, and she supposed one day it would hold her great-grandchildren. Truly, God had blessed them.
Nancy appeared to have rested, but the bruising around her eye seemed worse in the daylight, and her busted lip looked painful. Emma was certain Mary Ann would know what herbs they could put on both to soothe the skin.
The morning passed quickly. Nancy washed the clothes that had been in the bags and hung them to dry on the line. It was funny to look outside and see diapers drying in the May sun. Mary Ann baked a cake and fresh bread, while Emma aired and cleaned Jacob’s room. By the time Danny and Joseph joined them for lunch, they once again had a full table.
Then there was a commotion at the back door, and Emma’s son stepped inside.
Her oldest, Henry was always the first to check on them when anything out of the ordinary was going on. He had turned thirty recently. He was tall, big enough to handle the horses he worked with, and balding slightly. Although he was a farrier in town, they spoke occasionally about him moving back to the farm. They had rented out the fields after Ben had died, but the barn and yard and house were a lot of work for two women living alone.
They weren’t alone anymore.
They had an entire family gathered around them now.
“I heard Mammi had fallen.” He sat beside Jacob as Emma made sure he knew who everyone was. They had two church districts in Shipshe. Henry and his family were members of the district in town. The rest of them belonged to the country district, which Simon oversaw.
“It’s true,” Mary Ann said. “Tumbled over right outside in the garden. Emma saved me.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Gut! The Lord is my right hand, Henry.”
“And your foot?”
“Sore, but Doc’s cane helps.”
They spoke of business in town, Danny’s pup, and how Joseph and Jacob had searched for worms in the garden.
“Planning on some fishing, are you?” Henry smiled at the boys.
“Ya. Emma and Mamm say we can . . . can . . . can cook what we catch.”
“Hmmm. I have two boys who might enjoy a little fishing. Maybe we can come out Saturday afternoon.”
“If we don’t ca-catch them all today.”
Everyone laughed, everyone except Nancy, who at least managed a smile.
When they were done eating, Emma rose to wash the dishes, but Nancy stayed her hand. “Let me. Please.”
“All right. I’ll walk Henry outside then.”
They were barely out the back door when he started peppering Emma with questions. “Where is the teenager from? How long is he going to stay here? Why didn’t you call me about Mammi, and what are you going to do about Nancy and her boys?”
Henry had always been her worrier. It wasn’t that his faith was weak, but he tended to agonize over whether he was doing enough.
Emma tucked her hand through his arm. “Goshen. I’m not sure. I would have called, but I haven’t had time to walk to the phone shack, and I’m not going to do anything. They’re just . . . visiting for a while.”
Henry grunted. “I’ll slow my questions if you’ll slow your answers.”
“Fair enough.”
They’d made it to his buggy, and they both rested their backs against the black side that had warmed in the midday sunlight.
“It’s a lot of changes at once.”
“Ya. Tell me. A week ago, it was only your mammi I had to care for. Now, once again, I have a family.”
Henry turned and studied her. “It’s been hard on you since Dat passed.”
“All loss is difficult.”
“I should have—”
“You’ve done all you could and should. You’re a gut son.”
Henry smiled ruefully, then turned back to look out over the garden. “The word in town is that you’re going to allow people who are in need to stay here.”
Emma was a little surprised, since she hadn’t quite decided what they were doing herself. But the Amish grapevine worked well, and she admitted to her son that the idea was growing on her.
Then she told him about the money.
Henry let out a long, low whistle and rubbed the top of his head where the hair had disappeared. “Leave it to Mammi to keep a secret like that buried.”
“I don’t know exactly what she wants me to do. She seems to think we should spend it on some kind of ministry here.” When Henry didn’t comment, she nudged his shoulder. “How do you feel about that? Rightfully the money would go to you and the other kinner.”
“We’re not kinner, Mamm. We’re adults, and you know that none of us needs the money.”
“So you think it’s the right thing to do?”
“I think however Gotte prompts you is the right thing to do.” He turned to her, and Emma was relieved to see the familiar twinkle in his eyes. “’Course we’ll inherit this place one day, so any improvements you make will benefit all of us.”
“But would you want strangers living on your property?”
She wasn’t too surprised to hear he’d talked to Danny already. But when had he found the time? Perhaps Danny had managed to slip into town.
“I’m glad Danny lives so close, Mamm. He’s a gut person, and he cares about what happens to you.”
Her cheeks warmed, which was probably due to standing in the sun but might have been caused by the idea of Henry blessing her love life.
Did she have a love life?
Did she love Danny Eicher?
The question confused her more than the new group of people who had eaten lunch in her kitchen.
“We all want you to be happy. If you ever decided to remarry, we would understand.”
“Marry?” The word caught in her throat, causing her to blush even more.
Henry bent and kissed her cheek, then he climbed into his buggy and promised to come by on Saturday with his wife and children. “I’ll even stop by my bruder’s and encourage him to come as well.”
Emma stood next to the garden, watching him drive away. He was a blessing, all of her children were, and she was grateful to have them close and willing to help.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly.
Bishop Simon came by, but he stayed less than ten minutes. He told Nancy and Emma that Owen had agreed to go to Goshen.
“While you could go home, I’d feel more comfortable if you’d stay here for at least a week. We can see how Owen is doing and how best to proceed.”
“How long will he be there?” Nancy’s voice trembled slightly.
“That will depend on him. Technically he could check himself out anytime, which is why I’d rather you stay with Emma. But hopefully he will remain in the facility for the full month.”
“Yes. I’ll stay.” Nancy moved a step closer to Emma.
Emma put her arm around her, glad she had agreed to forgo heading home. Nancy needed time to heal, and the children needed a safe spot. A sanctuary, as Mary Ann had said.
