Mary passed the plate of biscuits to Nick. “Can you have Joshua’s horse brought here? We can look after him, and that will free up space at the vet clinic.”
“Sure. I’ll see to it. Will you be staying here, Joshua?”
He couldn’t tell from Nick’s tone what he thought about the idea. He glanced at Mary to gauge her reaction. She kept her eyes downcast. Joshua cleared his throat. “Yes, if it’s not too much trouble for Ada and Mary.”
“It’s no trouble,” Ada declared. “I’ll put you to work. I need wood cut for the stove. I need my corncribs fixed. I have plenty to keep you busy.”
Nick nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything. Joshua had the impression he wasn’t pleased, but there was little he could do about it.
Joshua shifted uneasily in his chair and took another sip of coffee. Had the sheriff noticed his nervous attitude? Hopefully he hadn’t, but something in the man’s intense gaze made Joshua doubt he missed much.
The sheriff and Miriam left shortly after that, much to Joshua’s relief. Later, as he waited beside the cart for Mary to join him, his spirits rose with a growing sense of anticipation. The ride would only take thirty minutes or so, but it would give him thirty minutes alone with Mary, and he liked that idea.
* * *
That became the pattern for the next several days. Joshua took care of the animals in the mornings, then headed to breakfast, where Nick and Miriam joined them at Ada’s insistence. She wanted to be kept apprised of the progress and needs in the community and she said no one was better informed than Nick. Miriam was able to pass along updates on Bishop Zook and the other injured people. Joshua strongly suspected part of Ada’s plan was to insure her daughter was getting enough food and rest and not working herself into the ground.
After breakfast, Joshua would drive Mary into Hope Springs. They would go their separate ways in town, but they often found each other for a quiet lunch in the park. The work was exhausting and sad, but nearly everyone worked to keep each other’s spirits up. One afternoon, an impromptu singing took place when five teenage Amish girls began a hymn in the park. They were soon joined by a group of young men, and for thirty minutes the cares of the volunteers and townspeople were lifted away by the sweet voices of the a cappella group.
In the evenings, Joshua rebuilt Ada’s corncribs and read from the Bible after supper. Once Ada went to bed, he and Mary talked about their day over a mug of tea at the kitchen table. When he was alone in his room, he wrote to his family each night. He found himself writing more about Mary and Hannah than about the storm damage and recovery.
As he sealed the envelope of his current letter, he stared at it and wondered what his family would make of Mary if they met. Would they like her as much as he did? Would they approve of her adoptive parents?
He sighed as he realized he could easily go home now. There were plenty of helpers in Hope Springs, but he didn’t want to leave.
Not just yet.
Chapter Eight
Mary sat down on the cart seat beside Joshua on Saturday morning and worked hard to control her nervousness. It was another simple wagon ride into town just as they had done all week. It wasn’t like riding with a young man in his courting buggy. They were on their way to help people affected by a disaster. They were not on a date. Yet a happy sense of anticipation gripped her.
Joshua had chosen to harness Tilly that morning. The mare stepped along brightly in the ground-eating trot that Standardbreds were famous for. Traffic along the rural highway was heavy for a Saturday morning. It seemed that people from all over were converging on the town in cars, pickups and wagons. Mary saw several license plates from neighboring states.
A large flatbed truck with a bulldozer on the bed followed them at a crawl for a half mile before it could pass on the hilly road. Joshua pulled over to give the traffic more room as it flowed by them. The large white van that passed them last was from Pennsylvania. It was loaded with young Amish men and women.
“It hasn’t taken long for the word to get out among the Amish.” He guided Tilly back to the center of their lane when the way was clear.
“The town will be grateful for the extra help. I heard yesterday that the Mennonite disaster relief people were on their way.”
“They always find a way to help. I’m sure more Amish will be coming, too. The recovery will take months.”
“So many groups rushing to help. It restores my faith in people.”
He cast a sidelong glance her way. “Do you doubt there are good people?”
“Sometimes. I know it’s wrong, but it’s hard to accept people at face value.”
“Our faith teaches us otherwise, but I know what you mean. It’s hard for me, too.”
“You are thinking about your brother and the people he became involved with.”
“In part, but I was thinking about something else.”
She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Something that happened to you?”
He shook his head. “It’s not important.”
“Now you have made me doubly curious.”
He glanced at her and smiled. “I see where Hannah gets it.”
“Which is a polite way of telling me to mind my own business. Very well. Tell me about Bowmans Crossing. What’s it like?”
“It’s nowhere near as big as Hope Springs. It’s more a collection of farms and small Amish-run businesses than a true town. When my family first settled in the area, they built a house by the river and ran a ferry crossing for their neighbors. That’s how the place got its name. There is a bridge over the river now, but folks still call it Bowmans Crossing.”
“You said your parents farm there.”
“Ja. My daed was the youngest son, so he inherited the home farm. Two of his brothers own a buggy-making business. Another sells harnesses.”
“Do they live nearby?”
“All within a mile. You can’t throw a rock in any direction without hitting one of my cousins.”
“It must be nice to have a big family.”
“I guess it is. I’ve never known anything else.”
“What will your father do with the land your mother inherited?”
“I’m not sure. My youngest brother will inherit the home place, so maybe one of us will take over my great-uncle’s property here.”
Would Joshua be sent to farm it? The idea that he might settle in the area brought on mixed emotions—happiness that he might remain close by, worry about what that would mean if her attraction to him grew unchecked.
“Delbert mentioned that you moved to Hope Springs a few years ago. Where was home before that?”
“I grew up near New Philadelphia.” The edge of Hope Springs came into view and she quickly changed the subject. “I hope the television cameras are gone.”
“I only see one.”
A gray-haired man in the uniform of a county deputy stopped them. He held a large clipboard. “Are you residents?”
“We are volunteers,” Joshua said.
“Names?”
He wrote down their information and then pulled two yellow bracelets from a box. He handed them to Joshua. “I know the Amish don’t wear jewelry of any kind. You don’t have to have this on, but you need to have it somewhere on your person so you can prove you are here legitimately. The numbers match your name, so be sure and check out with a sentry when you leave town. Please accept my gratitude for coming to help. I went to school here, way back when. It breaks my heart to see so much of the town in ruin.”
“The town will recover.” Mary tried to comfort him with her words.
“I know it will. There are some mighty fine, mighty strong people here. If we didn’t know that before, we sure know it now.” He waved them through.
She looked at Joshua. “I’m to meet Betsy and
some of the other women at the Red Cross tent in the park. You can drop me at the inn. What will you be doing?”
“The volunteers were asked to meet in the park, too. Most of the streets have been cleared and all of the damaged roofs have been covered, so I think we’re starting a house-by-house cleanup of debris.”
“When our shift is over, Betsy and I will lend a hand.”
He glanced at her feet. “Did you wear sturdy boots? You’ll need gloves, too.”
“I’m wearing Ada’s work boots and two pairs of socks so I won’t get blisters. I have gloves in my pockets. I’ll be fine.”
“Where is the buggy maker’s shop? I promised Hannah I would see about getting her wagon fixed and she reminded me this morning that I hadn’t done it.”
“Follow the street that runs behind the Wadler Inn to the west side of town. You can’t miss Levi Beachy’s place. I should warn you about the twins.”
Joshua laughed. “I’ve already been warned about Atlee and Moses. I’ll try not to fall prey to one of their pranks. The way folks talk, you would think the tornado was their doing.” He pulled Tilly to a stop in front of the inn.
Mary got down before he could help her. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they had something to do with it. Can you deliver these supplies to the Red Cross tent, too?”
“I sure can. See you later.” He slapped the reins on Tilly’s rump and drove away.
Betsy came out of the inn with a huge load of towels in her arms. “The two of you looked quite cozy riding together.”
Mary knew she was being teased. “It’s not a very big cart. I would look cozy if I’d only had a broom with me.”
“Not that cozy. Is he still staying with you and your grandmother? What does she think about him? He’s single, after all.”
“Ada has her eye on Delbert Miller for me.”
Betsy’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t be serious.”
“She’s getting desperate. I’ll be twenty next Sunday, so the pressure is on.”
“I know that feeling.” Betsy adjusted the load in her arms.
“How is Alvin’s mother?” Mary took half the towels from Betsy and they began walking toward the park. The persistent sounds of chain saws had been replaced by the rumble of heavy machinery and countless hammers boarding up windows and repairing roofs. The smell of diesel exhaust hung heavy in the air.
“She’s getting as antsy as Ada. Lots of talk about the grandbabies everyone else is having while she may be in the grave before she has any. She told Alvin the tree branch that slid off the roof and hit her was God’s way of telling him to speed things up.”
“And is he?”
Betsy paused and looked around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “He proposed last night.”
Mary’s mouth fell open. “He did? What did you say?”
“I told him I’d rather that he ask me because he loves me and not because his mother got hit by a tree limb. It wasn’t that big a branch.”
“You said no?”
“Not exactly.”
“You said yes? You were going to stay single until you were twenty-five. I’ve heard you say that a dozen times.”
“I know what I said. I told him maybe. It would be nice to have a home of my own. When I see my sisters Clara and Lizzie with their babies, I think it would be nice to have a baby, too.”
“Take my advice. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Have a husband first. It makes life a lot less complicated.”
“Don’t tell me you see Hannah as a mistake, because I won’t believe you. No one could love their little girl more than you do.”
“I never think of her as anything but the most precious gift God could give me. I made my share of mistakes, but she is my redemption. How did Alvin take your answer?”
Betsy sighed heavily and shook her head, making the ribbons of her kapp dance. “Not well. He has stopped speaking to me.”
“He’ll get over it. He’s head over heels for you.”
“I thought he was, but now, I’m not so sure.”
They reached the tent. It was busy as volunteers manned stations of water, ice and food. The hum of a generator could be heard outside. Orange electric cords stretched across the floor, held down with strips of duct tape. A small television at a desk in the back flashed with images of the destruction taken by helicopters and reporters on the ground.
There was little time to talk as Betsy and Mary passed out food, water and hot beverages to a steady stream of volunteers. A few were merely sightseers, not interested in working. They had come to gawk. The rest, young Amish people from neighboring communities, college students and off-duty first responders from as far away as Kansas, were all there to give freely of their time simply because they wanted to help someone in need.
Moving tons of rubble was backbreaking work, as Mary learned after her four-hour shift at the tent ended. She was loading bricks from a collapsed chimney into a wheelbarrow when she saw Joshua approaching. She straightened and brushed her gloves together. “Did you get something to eat? They still have sandwiches at the food tent.”
“I finished my break a few minutes ago. I’m on my way back to work, but I’ve been sent on a mission to find you.”
“Me? What for?”
“I met a local fellow named Alvin. When he learned I was staying at your place, he enlisted my help to gather some information about a friend of yours.”
“Betsy.”
“Ja. He seems like a nice fellow, so I thought I would help him out.” Joshua began picking up bricks with her.
“Oh, dear. What exactly does he want to know?”
“Is she seeing someone else?”
Mary threw a brick in the wheelbarrow and glared at Joshua. “Of course she isn’t. She’s been seeing Alvin for ages.”
Straightening with a brick in each hand, Joshua tipped his head to the side. “Then I am a little confused. I thought he wanted to go out with her.”
“He wants to marry her.”
“Then he should ask her.”
“He did.”
“Now I’m even more confused. Did she give him an answer?”
“She said maybe.”
“Now I get it.” He tossed his bricks on top of hers. “He’s wondering if she is waiting for someone else to ask the same question. Otherwise, she would’ve said yes or no.”
The wheelbarrow was full, so Mary grabbed the handles. “She said maybe because she isn’t ready to marry. She wants her freedom for a while longer.”
“Can I tell him that?”
“Since he hasn’t figured that out for himself, you can. And he should inform his mother.” She began walking toward the street.
Joshua followed her with an armload of bricks. “I think I’ll draw the line at telling him what he should say to his mother. I don’t mind helping a fellow find out if a girl is interested, but this relationship sounds more complicated than I am equipped to handle.”
She grinned at him. “It’s a wise man who knows when he is in over his head.”
* * *
Joshua stopped in his tracks. She had such a pretty smile. It made her eyes sparkle, and his heart stumbled over itself when she aimed it at him. He knew for a fact that he was getting in over his head because he sure wanted to see her smiling a lot more. At him.
He hurried to catch up with her. “What are we doing with these bricks?”
“We’re stacking them on a pallet in the driveway. They’ll be taken to be cleaned and reused to repair Mrs. Davis’s chimney by a local bricklayer who has volunteered his services.”
“Nice guy.” Joshua began stacking the bricks tightly together.
“I think so, too. Mrs. Davis doesn’t have family to help her. She is watching us from the window, by the way. I have hear
d she’s afraid to leave her home and hasn’t been out since the storm.”
“It had to be frightening to see this destruction up close and then have the place overrun with strangers.”
Joshua glanced toward the house. The curtain at the window fell back into place. A second later, it parted again as a yellow cat settled itself on the window ledge to watch them. Joshua casually bent to tie his bootlaces and glanced covertly toward the window. A small white-haired woman holding a gray cat in her arms pulled the curtain aside again.
A tall Englisch man came striding down the street toward them. “Let me give you a hand with those.”
Mary straightened, put her hands on her hips and stretched backward. “This is the last of the unbroken ones. Joshua, this is Pete Metcalf. He’s the bricklayer I was telling you about.”
“Good to meet you.” Pete held out his hand. Joshua shook it.
Mary pulled off her gloves. “How are your wife and family getting along?”
“It’s still crowded at the inn, but we’re really grateful that we have a place to stay. Thank you for insisting we go there. The baby is doing great. She is the center of attention when she’s awake. It’s like having two dozen babysitters. The only problem is that we can’t find our cat. The kids have been all over town and they are brokenhearted. We even took your suggestion and checked at the veterinary clinic, but she wasn’t there.”
“You should have the children check with Mrs. Davis. She is a cat lover. I think she has taken in some strays. I noticed some open cans of cat food on her steps.”
Pete hiked a thumb toward the house. “Mrs. Gina Davis, the lady whose chimney I’m fixing?”
“Ja.”
“I’ll go ask her now.”
“Nee,” Mary said quickly, stopping him. “Send the children.”
“Why the kids?”
“They are less frightening than a strange man would be. When people are scared and anxious, small children can help them overcome that fear.”
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll have them come over.”
When he left, Joshua moved a step closer to Mary. “Why didn’t you ask her if she had their cat?”
Amish Redemption Page 10
