John enjoyed being around people and therefore Sarah knew he was glad that everyone was willing to give “Daniel” a second chance. But Sarah also realized that the ruse sometimes left him exhausted. Hearing some of the stories about Daniel’s past—about the man everyone assumed he still was—was also difficult for him. She was discovering that if there was anything that was guaranteed to put her husband in a foul mood, it was hearing a story about Daniel’s mistreatment of her.
It was that thought that spurred her to double-check with John about their plans to attend church that morning. The air was cold and drizzling. Both were things that made his injuries ache.
“Are you sure you don’t mind attending church?” she asked as he helped her wrap her black shawl around her head and dress. “I know your arm is paining you something awful.”
He bent his right arm experimentally. “It does pain me on days like today, when the weather is damp and cold, but the doctor promised that it would, likely for quite some time. The nerves were damaged and some are trying to repair themselves, whatever that means.”
He frowned as he ran one smooth finger down the discolored and uneven skin that covered the knuckles of his right hand. “The new skin is soft while the old, damaged skin is tight and calloused, I fear. Perhaps the two are trying to get used to each other, just as we have been. I’m just sorry you have to look at it.”
“I like how you look.”
His chuckle was low and strained. “I’d call you a liar if I didn’t already know you were anything but that.”
“It’s true, John. When I see your scars, it reminds me of how brave you were. And it reminds me how you are most definitely not Daniel.”
“I’d like to think I was as brave as any other man on the battlefield, but we both know my scars came from a simple explosion in our compound, not from a feat of bravery.”
When he spoke like that, she became even more fond of him. Daniel would have spun a story to explain his wounds. He would have been unable to resist such a thing.
But John never glorified himself or his battles. Not beyond a steady pride that he had served with honor.
She ached to ease his hurt. Impulsively, she reached for his hand and clasped it in between hers. With smooth strokes, she rubbed the skin along his knuckles, caressing the damaged skin along his wrist and forearm.
His eyes closed for a brief moment, his expression full of bliss. “Your touch feels so good. Thank you.”
“No thanks are needed, John. I want to help you. You know what? We have some liniment in the barn. I used it for the horse when she hurt her leg. Perhaps we could try rubbing a bit of that on your arm and hand? I think maybe the oils might help your skin become more pliable.”
“I’m willing to try anything.” Carefully he stretched his fingers a bit. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to use my hand all that well, but any improvement would be a welcome change.”
She felt terrible. She’d been so focused on his return and all their emotional hurdles, she’d scarcely taken time to remember that he was an injured man who had barely survived a terrible explosion and fire. “I’ll rub some of the salve on you this evening then.”
“Danke, Sarah,” he said after slipping on his own coat, the one that now fit him well, thanks to the bolts of material they’d bought in Mansfield and her time with a needle and thread. “And thank you for the coat, too. It is very fine.”
“I will make another pair of pants for you soon.”
“I’d rather you make something for yourself.” Reaching out, he brushed a finger against her cheek. “There’s a reason we bought that bolt of blue wool, remember.”
His words sounded so loving, his gaze was so kind, she felt her cheeks heat. Unsure of how to respond to such things, she tucked her chin.
He chuckled. “Well, we should probably go now. We don’t want to be late.”
“I hope you will fare all right.”
“I survived last time. I will survive again.”
“I know it is difficult for you, not knowing the language well.”
“I need to learn my Pennsylvania Dutch better. Besides, worshipping with your friends and neighbors makes you happy, Sarah. And if you’re happy, then I am, too.”
“I do love worshipping, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I won’t be. Besides, I enjoy spending time with the Lord. Heaven knows I’ve called on Him a whole lot over the last couple of years.” With a teasing grin, he ran one hand down the front of his coat. “Besides, I’ll get to show off my new coat today.”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “You will look mighty handsome, for sure and for certain.”
He looked away, obviously embarrassed. “We both know I’ll never be that. But thank you.”
Then, to her surprise, he leaned close and carefully pressed his lips to her cheek before quickly turning away. It was all she could do to not cradle her cheek in the palm of her hand the whole way to the Millers’ farm.
They arrived right on time.
To her disconcertion, Zeke was the first person they came into contact with. Feeling awkward, she’d been tempted to simply tuck her chin and keep walking. But John was made of sterner stuff.
“Zeke, it’s gut to see you,” he said, just as if things hadn’t been left so badly between them.
After looking in her direction for a moment, Zeke straightened his shoulders. “It’s gut to see you both as well.”
“Could you give me some advice? I intend to go to horse auction soon but I’ve got a couple of concerns.”
“Of course, Daniel. What are you worried about?”
Sarah smiled softly as John began doing what he did best, quietly breaking down barriers. By the time they reached the rest of the congregation, John and Zeke were talking about horses and auctions like two long-lost friends.
Satisfied that her husband was going to be just fine, Sarah left John’s side and joined the other women, who were gathered around a new baby.
As she walked toward them, several of the women called out to her and smiled cheerfully. Sarah returned the greetings with pleasure, her heart practically singing.
Finally, she was a happily married wife. At long last, she fit in with the others. It was as if everyone in the community found her more approachable now. Perhaps it was because she felt more eager to be around others. When she was married to Daniel she’d been too beaten down to do much more than get through each day as best she could. Later, when she was widowed, her circumstances had distanced her even further from the others.
Now, as she entered the Millers’ barn with two of the women, she was pleased to see many others motioning for her to sit by their sides.
It was surely amazing that it took an Englischer to help her become a true part of her Amish community.
Of course she knew that if anyone discovered her secrets and lies she would most likely be shunned. She would deserve everyone’s disdain, too. But until that happened, she kept telling herself that the only person she and John owed an explanation to was the Lord.
She knew He wasn’t one to appreciate lying, but she also had to imagine that the Lord likely wasn’t all that happy with men who abused their wives, either. Sarah hoped that He wouldn’t mind her finding happiness after being through so much.
After the men and the few last scalawags traipsed in and seated themselves on the benches, the preacher began his sermon.
Jeremiah was preaching today, and a more respected man in their midst she couldn’t name. He was in his sixties and could claim a dozen children and three times that many grandchildren. He was known to be a thoughtful and serious man. A mighty wise one, too.
As he spoke about Moses and his many trials, Sarah tried her best to concentrate on his words. But more often than not, her gaze slowly drifted across the aisle and settled on John. She’d notice the way his chin was tilted or the way he was holding himself, wondering if the skin along his torso bothered him as much as his hands. Each t
ime, his eyes would meet hers, almost as if he could sense her attention.
Then, to her happiness, his gaze would settle on hers for a long moment, and it would feel as if they were the only two people in the room.
“I can’t help but notice your Daniel is actin’ like a newlywed,” Esther whispered into Sarah’s ear about halfway through the service. “You are, too, if I’m not mistaken.” When Sarah’s cheeks heated, the other woman laughed softly. “I wouldn’t mind receiving a few of those heated looks a time or two. Maybe I should send my man off for three years.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Sarah said lightly, then, after once again sharing a small smile with John, she turned her attention to Jeremiah’s sermon.
As another hour passed, and their younger preacher, Abraham, began to speak, she found herself already anticipating riding by John’s side on their trip home. Perhaps this time he would reach for her hand. And perhaps this time she would let him hold it.
Imagining such a thing made her pulse race. If she held his hand in between her own, she could pretend that she only wanted to ease his sore skin. When, really, she just wanted to feel his fingers linked with hers.
At last the service was over. After giving thanks in a private prayer, Sarah stood up and stretched. Just as they all began to file out of the warm barn, a commotion arose among the folks standing near the barn’s entrance. Gasps were followed by cries of joy as everyone appeared to gather around a newcomer. Immediately, the people closest to the open door crowded closer, blocking everyone else’s view of whatever was happening.
Sarah and the women hurried into the aisle, hoping to catch a glimpse of what had so many people so excited. Unfortunately, she was more petite than the other women around her. No matter how hard she craned her neck, she couldn’t see a thing.
Unable to hold her tongue, she asked excitedly. “What has made everyone so glad of heart? Who is here?”
Esther was a few inches taller and used her height to peek around the assemblage. Then she gasped. “Praise the Lord! Oh, Sarah. It’s a wonder, is what it is.”
“What, exactly, is a wonder?”
“Lloyd Mast is standing in the doorway! He’s returned from the war!”
“Lloyd is back?” Surely she hadn’t heard correctly!
“Jah! Lloyd Mast! We all thought he had died, but it seems the stories we heard about his death were wrong. Oh, Sarah, it is surely a miracle and a wonder, too. Lloyd, like your Daniel, has returned to us all!”
Shock reverberated through her as the implications settled in. Never had she imagined that any of the other six men had also survived. John had certainly made it seem as if no one else had.
While others rushed forward, she darted to the side, searching the throng of men, looking for John. At last she spied him at the back of the crowd. His mouth was set in a thin line. She practically ran to his side. “What are we going to do?” she asked as soon as they were standing alone.
“I’m not sure. I’m worried I’ve misunderstood what they are saying. Are they speaking of Lloyd Mast?”
After darting a glance around them to make sure they weren’t being overheard, she nodded. “Lloyd is another Amish man who became a soldier,” she whispered. “He left with Daniel.”
His expression turned bleak. “That’s what I feared I had heard.”
“Feared? Do you recognize his name? Have you met him?” Her stomach dropped.
“Yes.” Looking regretful, he looked her in the eyes. “Sarah, I’m afraid I do know Lloyd.”
Little by little, she felt her world crumble. Through a gap in the crowd, she saw several men gesture toward her husband. It was obvious now that they were telling Lloyd about Daniel’s return. “Do . . . do you think he remembers you?”
“I would be surprised if he did not. For three months, several companies were all gathered together for training. I recognize Lloyd because we all knew who were the Amish men in our midst. I’m afraid he might recognize me, on account of my rank. I was one of the company’s lieutenants. Most of the men reported to me.”
Scrambling for salvation, she blurted, “Maybe you knew a different Lloyd. It’s a common enough name . . .”
“I doubt there were two Amish men with the same name, Sarah.”
“What do you think he’s going to say? Do you think he’ll believe you are Daniel?” Her words spun together, she was so anxious to keep things the way they were. To keep things perfect.
“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t.” With a grim expression, he gestured to the almost empty aisle. “We won’t know until we go forward. And it is time to do that.”
But still, she hung back. Anxious to delay the inevitable. “But I thought everyone who was in the tent with you perished.”
His expression turned gentle. “He wasn’t in my tent, Sarah. I had thought Lloyd died weeks before on the battlefield.”
“I think everyone is telling him about your return. If he does recognize you, what do you think he will do?” she whispered, hating that she was hoping to further the lies. Hating that she was not sparing a thought of praise for Lloyd’s miraculous appearance and was only thinking of her selfish wants and fears.
“I don’t know, Sarah.” He smiled slightly, though it was strained, showing her that he was just as affected by the sudden change in their life as she was. “We’ll get through it, though. With the Lord’s help, we will.”
She knew the Lord would help her, but she also felt that maybe God needed a nudge. They needed to figure something out! “But, John, what if—”
“Sarah, we won’t know anything until we greet him. And we need to greet him,” he interrupted. “Already people are looking back at us with concern.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t care. I don’t want to move.” But that wasn’t quite right, either. The truth was that she was afraid to move. Afraid to step out of the dim barn and into the bright light of the day—and the future.
“I know you’re worried, but it will be okay.” Reaching out, he swiped one of her tears with the pad of his thumb. And gentled his voice. “Don’t forget, at the end of the day, nothing has changed, Sarah. We are still married.”
“I know.” But she didn’t feel as positive about that as he did. After all, something had changed in his expression. It was wary now. Shuttered.
And it matched the way she was feeling inside. She was afraid of so much. Afraid for John to be recognized, afraid that their sham would be revealed to the whole church community.
Afraid that everything that had begun to form between herself and Jonathan would dissolve in an instant.
“Come now,” he muttered. “We can’t tarry any longer.”
Slowly, they walked down the aisle toward the crowd that was gathered just outside the doorway. The earlier jubilation she’d heard had passed, and awaiting them now was an expectant silence. Curious, she looked around.
And was stunned to see more than one person looking at her husband with an odd mixture of wariness and distrust.
Sarah felt her body began to tremble. She longed to run away but she had no choice but to continue forward by John’s side. If she’d felt she could have, she would have reached for John’s hand and grasped it. Anything to give herself support. Her mind spun, frantically rolling around words to spout. But for some reason, nothing came to mind.
Then John stepped forward with a grin and a burst of confidence that was so like Daniel she wondered why she had ever thought his duplicity would be discovered.
“Lloyd,” he said, “praise the Lord. You’ve returned.”
Collectively, the crowd inhaled.
Then time seemed to slow as Lloyd gaped at John. First his expression was one of shock, then slowly his eyes narrowed. He turned his head slightly to look at Sarah, then focused on John again. His frown deepened, as did the lines around his eyes. “It’s you,” he said.
Which told Sarah everything she needed to know. Lloyd knew the man by her side wasn’t Daniel. And furthermore, he knew Joh
n’s true identity.
The air thickened as the tension increased. Sarah’s heart was pounding so loudly, she feared everyone could hear it.
Still betraying nothing, John spoke again. “I had heard you’d died during our last skirmish. I am glad that news was in error.”
At last, Lloyd spoke. “I was shot, but by the grace of God, I survived. Jah, I am grateful to the Lord for seeing me through. The Lord God is good.”
John nodded. “Indeed, the Lord is wondrous. Almighty.”
“Indeed he is,” Lloyd replied. “He watched over me during my years among the English. He kept me safe when I was in battles. He was my guiding light and my rock in times of trouble.”
John nodded. “He spared my life as well, and for that, I am grateful.”
Lloyd narrowed his eyes, seemed to come to a decision, then raised his voice. “He is many things, and He is all-knowing. He knows—as do I—that you are most definitely not Sarah’s husband, Daniel.”
Several women gasped.
A cry fell from Sarah’s lips before she could stifle it. Dread filled her every pore as she ached to pull John to her side and simply run away.
But next to her, John stood straight and tall. Seeming to ignore her panic. Then, miraculously, with more than a bit of disdain, he said, “Lloyd, I fear you are letting my burns and scars get the best of you. I know I am an ugly man now, and that they are difficult to overlook. But I promise you this: Underneath the scars, I am still the same man.”
The tension in the assemblage increased. Sarah’s palms began to sweat.
“I believe that to be true, Lieutenant Scott.”
While John faced Lloyd stoically, Jeremiah folded his arms across his chest. “Explain yourself, Lloyd,” he said.
As the crowd edged closer and several men sought to defend John, Lloyd raised his voice. “I was injured on the battlefield. After mostly recovering from my wounds, I had just returned to our unit when the explosion erupted in your tent. I was close enough to see Daniel’s body among the dead. And observant enough to hear that our fierce Lieutenant Scott had sustained terrible burns but was still alive.”
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