Mountains of Grace

by Kelly Irvin

  “Why does she feel bad? She asked for the divorce. I never wanted it.”

  “You’re asking me to figure out how women think, and we both know that ain’t happening.”

  They sat in silent tribute to that truth for several seconds.

  “We were high school sweethearts. Did I ever tell you that?”

  More than once. Tim simply nodded.

  “It’s such a cliché. She was homecoming queen. I was QB1.” No bitterness marred the words. Only nostalgia and lost wonder. “I thought we would grow old together. But she has other plans. She fell out of love with me. Maybe it’s my fault for never being there. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Maybe I took love for granted. Don’t you ever do that. If you end up with Juliette or some other woman, give her all of you all the time. Don’t let your job come before your family.”

  “You realize as my boss you’re on the losing end of that equation?”

  “As your boss I’m telling you to listen to the voice of experience. I see how the air in the room explodes when the two of you are together. Don’t ever lose that feeling. Hang on to it. When it’s gone, there’s no getting it back.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll get the chance, but if I do, I’ll remember it.”

  “At least I got to hug the kids before they left. Even Zoe, and she’s not the huggy type.” His tone bittersweet, Emmett turned his hat round and round. “Colleen hasn’t tried to turn them against me. I’ll give her that.”

  “Thank God.”

  “You don’t think you can lead Juliette back to church?”

  Tim told his boss about the job offer in Billings. “She had the audacity to suggest I go with her.”

  “Don’t feel obligated to stay here on my account.”

  “You’re a handsome man, but Juliette is gorgeous.” Tim summoned a smile to go with the small joke. “I can’t go with her, because I can’t be with her. Not unless her heart changes.”

  Emmett’s growling chuckle rumbled and then died. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His enormous hands laid across his paunch. “I’ve known Juliette since she had training wheels on her little pink bicycle with the basket on the front and the tassels on the handles.”

  “I wish I’d known her then. Maybe I’d have her figured out by now.”

  “Something happened to her.”

  “Yeah, she grew up.”

  “No, something happened that changed her. She was a sweet daddy’s girl with a breezy smile who’d do anything for anybody. Then one day she turned into a woman flaunting herself to any man who gives her a second gander. That’s not normal.”

  That Emmett had noticed Juliette’s propensity to flirt with her body made Tim’s face burn. “Maybe she just grew up.”

  “I’ve seen that kind of hurt before.” Emmett opened his eyes. He swiveled until he stared directly at Tim. “She’s got a wound festering inside her. Get her to talk about it and maybe you can help her figure out why she’s so mad at God.”

  “She says she doesn’t believe in God.”

  “She does. That’s why she’s so mad at Him.”

  No one judged character better than Emmett, and he’d seen more than his share of tragedy and evil in his years as Lincoln County sheriff. “I’ll work on figuring out what happened to her.”

  Emmett aged before Tim’s eyes. “You’re not going to like what you find. I’m telling you that now. Don’t flinch. She’s blaming herself for whatever happened. Don’t you do it too.”

  “I would never.” Tim wavered for a second. “You said you’d seen that hurt before. Who did you see?”

  “A twelve-year-old girl who’d been molested by her grandpa.”

  Tim’s breakfast rose in his throat. He swallowed.

  “I have the community meeting at six.” Emmett settled the clipboard on his lap and grabbed the pen. “I want to sit with Paulie for a while. Can you cover things until then?”

  “Absolutely.” Tim stood and started toward the door.

  “Hey, Tim.”

  He paused and turned. Emmett cleared his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thanks for helping out with Paulie. And what I said about Colleen, I’d appreciate it if you would keep that rant—”

  “No worries. We all need to vent. Even superheroes like you.”

  The superhero bit lightened Emmett’s expression a fraction. “Get out of here.”

  “Going, Boss.”

  Every time he wanted to wallow in his own problems, Tim received an express reminder from God. Others had heavier crosses to bear. Emmett would never see his brother as a cross. He was family.

  God, please lighten Emmett’s load a little, if You can. And smack me upside the head the next time I complain.

  29

  Eureka, Montana

  Doctors should prescribe work for what ailed a man. Caleb leaned into the razor-sharp draw knife and peeled more outer bark from the lodgepole pine log. God, in His goodness, had provided an empty warehouse for Arthur Duncan to set up shop until they could get back to work at Montana Furniture in West Kootenai. Caleb’s boss’s company had hundreds of orders pending from customers and more than a dozen retail outlets across the country. With fall and then the holiday season closing in, Arthur had hauled as much equipment and wood inventory into Eureka as possible during that small window of opportunity.

  Tuesday appeared as a perfect fall day for working in the shade of a maple tree outside the warehouse on the outskirts of Eureka. A breeze startled the leaves occasionally and two robins kept Caleb company with their sporadic chatter. A long afternoon stretched in utter peace before him. He could almost forget about the fire.

  And Mercy.

  The beautiful log came from a tree harvested from the Kootenai National Forest for its straightness and its strength-to-weight ratio. The standing dead tree hadn’t fallen, nor had it died. Arthur never used green wood because it would warp, and they never harvested live trees from the forest. Taking the dead trees reduced the threat of wildfire, although it hadn’t seemed to help much this year. They didn’t even use heavy equipment for fear of scarring the living trees. This log was perfect for the children’s table Caleb planned to make for his host’s four offspring. Humming, he laid the draw knife aside and examined the log. It had a perfect skip-peeled texture created by leaving a layer of inner bark.

  Time to start on the joints. Once the table had been assembled using the hole-and-peg-style joints, he would do the stain and lacquer. Woodworking was labor and thought intensive. That’s what made it the perfect prescription for not thinking about his problems.

  Like Mercy.

  A buggy pulled into the circle drive and parked several yards from where he worked. So much for peace and quiet.

  Jonah Yoder climbed down and ambled across the yard. “Afternoon.”

  Returning to his work, Caleb nodded.

  “You left sudden-like the other night.”

  “It was late. I was tired. I figured you were too.”

  “My daughter doesn’t use the gut sense Gott gave her.”

  Mercy not only had good sense she also was smart in a way that many people were not. She had more book learning than most Plain folks. She was self-taught through reading. Plain people didn’t put store by school learning but respected those who did. Mercy was a thinker. Log over his shoulder, Caleb moved toward the warehouse. Jonah followed him inside.

  “Your dochder thinks harder than most.”

  “Agreed.”

  Caleb deposited the log on a long table with several others. He picked up a piece of sandpaper and went to work on a chair that sat nearby, waiting to be varnished. “Did you have something to say to me?”

  “You saw this man Spencer with her?”

  “I did.”

  “I’m concerned for her well-being.”

  “I spoke to him.”

  Jonah’s thick gray eyebrows drew together. His expression lightened. “You did? When?”

  “Right after I saw them together.” Cale
b bent into his work, his gaze on the knotty grains of the wood. “We spoke of what is best for a Plain woman. Spencer McDonald is from Eureka. He of all people knows better than to play with fire.”

  “It’s a sin to worry. Yet I find myself in a tug-of-war with my thoughts over this. I know I have no right to ask for your help.”

  “You know what happened?”

  “Only what my fraa tells me.”

  Apparently that was enough. From the discomfort on Jonah’s face, the man wanted to be anywhere in the world but in this shop discussing his daughter’s well-being with the man she’d turned down. Yet here he was. He loved her that much.

  Caleb abandoned the sandpaper and locked gazes with Mercy’s father. “Regardless of what happened in the past, I also am concerned for Mercy as a member of this Gmay. As we should all be concerned for one another. I made it clear to Spencer that we cannot stray from our faith with an Englischer. What is at stake if we do.”

  “Do you think he’ll leave her alone?”

  “He understands the consequences, but he has an Englischer’s perspective on the world.”

  His scowl fierce, Jonah nodded. He rapped on the table twice. “Come to dinner with us tonight. My fraa is making fried chicken and cherry pie.”

  In other words, wrest Mercy’s attention from a man who might tempt her into the world. “I have an invitation from Arthur’s fraa.”

  The temptation to cancel was strong, but he would find another time and another way to reach out to Mercy.

  “Her eternal salvation is at stake.” If Jonah kept pulling at his beard like that, he would soon have no hair on his chin. “Her life with her family and community.”

  “I know, but the choice is hers alone. She must make it.”

  Jonah rocked on his heels for several seconds. He wanted to say more, that was obvious. His gaze contemplated the canvas-covered furniture along one wall. Finally he sighed. “Another time then.”

  “Jah, another time.”

  Jonah left as quickly as he’d arrived.

  To have a father who cared so much he would overcome his natural reticence to speak to Caleb about such personal, private matters would be a gift. Caleb shooed away envy the color of a sour Granny Smith apple. His own father was such a faint memory.

  Caleb jogged out to the phone shack by the road. He pulled the letter from the pocket made by the broad flap of his pants and punched in the number he’d written on the envelope. Six rings later the machine kicked in with a message. He closed his eyes and tried to order his thoughts. At the sound of the beep, he drew a breath. “Mudder, it’s me, Caleb.” As if she wouldn’t recognize his voice. “I received your letter. I’m glad all is well. My cabin burned. I plan to rebuild. Maybe you can come for a visit in the spring. I have to go. Faeriwell.”

  He laid the receiver in its cradle. His sight blurred. It could be hours or days before someone in his family remembered to traipse to the phone shack to check messages. Then they would go about their business as usual.

  So would Caleb. God had led him to Mercy. Caleb would set aside his anger, his hurt feelings, his jealousy, and step up.

  Mercy’s life as a Plain woman was at stake. Even more important, her eternal salvation was in question. In the end God would decide her fate. In the meantime Caleb had a duty to use every means to guide her in the right direction.

  Even if that meant being rejected again.

  30

  Eureka, Montana

  Mercy’s nose led her through the house to the kitchen where a cherry pie sat on the windowsill cooling. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled after a long day in the stuffy, stinky garage-slash-classroom. The scholars wanted Juliette to come back, and so did Mercy. Her presence on Monday had been a welcome addition. But teaching in an Amish school didn’t work that way. It was a Plain person’s job.

  Her mother stood at the stove stirring sliced potatoes and onions in a skillet. More mouthwatering aromas enveloped Mercy. She opened her mouth to sing her mother’s culinary praises, but Bishop Noah Duncan, Deacon Tobias Eicher, and Minister Lucas Zimmerman sat around the table with her father. All four nursed glasses of cold tea. A plate of peanut butter cookies occupied the space in front of them on the table. All four stared at her as she entered the room. She closed her mouth.

  “Dochder, we have company for supper.” Father managed to mingle forced joviality and faint warning. “They’re visiting all the families since we’re scattered across the valley.”

  “It seemed a good idea to make sure all is going well. The Gmay is flung far and wide, but our faith continues to hold us close.” His earthy-brown eyes cool, Noah’s gaze pierced to the bone. Unlike Father, he didn’t smile. “We were glad to hear classes resumed despite the setback.”

  Setback was one word for what happened to Kootenai and their home. Not the one Mercy would have chosen. “We thought it was important for the kinner to have that stability at a time when everything else is turned upside down.” She went to the counter and poured herself a glass of water. Hoping to erase the bitter taste in her mouth, she sipped and swallowed. “But it’s hard for the scholars to concentrate when they don’t know when they’re going home or what they’re going home to. Still, they try.”

  “Gott’s plan will unfold in His time.” Noah set his half-empty glass on the table with a firm clink. He clasped his hands together and steepled long, thin fingers. Noah had been chosen by lot as bishop four years earlier at the ripe old age of thirty. Since then his once-skinny frame had filled out. His cheeks were round and his paunch substantial. It was as if his body grew into the job. “That’s true of all things in life, of course. I remind myself of that whenever I find myself questioning my circumstances. I would hope you’d remind the kinner of that.”

  “I do.”

  The silence grew as if the men expected her to expand on her response. They all had children of their own. Surely they had an inkling of what it was like for small children to be ripped from their homes and rushed through the countryside to sleep in unfamiliar beds in unfamiliar houses and not know when they would be able to go home or to what.

  “We also wanted to let you know the emergency fund will be available for rebuilding as soon as the authorities let us return.” Tobias filled the silence. Although his remark was directed at Father, Mercy’s heartache eased at his words. The community took care of its own. “Offerings to help with removing the debris and constructing the new house are pouring in from other communities as far away as Lewistown, St. Ignatius, and Gold Creek.”

  “Gott is gut.” Although his face was stoic, Father gulped down tea like a man who’d spent a week in the desert. “He will provide.”

  “The women are gathering supplies and foodstuff.” Lucas swiveled and directed this to Mother, who busied herself plucking hot rolls from a pan and dropping them in a basket. “They’ll be ready to help with meals as soon as we get the all-clear.”

  When would that be? No one said.

  “Mudder, can I help you with something?” She turned so the men couldn’t see the questions on her face. They were blessed to have Plain friends across the state. “Shall I set the table?”

  “We’ll eat in the big room.” Tongs in hand, Mother turned from the stove. “The fried chicken is almost done. You can mash the potatoes and put the gravy in a serving bowl.”

  She spoke of food, but her gaze beseeched something else. Restraint. Obedience. Humility. All of the above. Mercy sighed. Mother knew her too well.

  “Before we eat, I’d like to take a few moments to speak of another matter.” Noah’s voice deepened as if weighty matters weighed it down. “Something has been brought to our attention that involves you, Mercy.”

  Mother dropped the tongs. They clattered on the laminate wood floor. “Sorry, sorry.”

  “Sit for a moment, both of you.” Noah straightened and moved the tea glass and cookies to the middle of the table. “Let’s talk before we eat. Then we can enjoy our meal with lighter hearts.”

&
nbsp; He brought with him a heavy heart. Mercy’s own heart sped up. Sweat dampened her palms. She breathed. She’d done nothing wrong. Why did she feel guilty?

  She eased into the chair next to her father, farthest across from three elders chosen by lot to lead their flock. Her mother took a seat on the other side of Father. Silence reigned for several seconds.

  “A story has found its way to us.” His forehead wrinkled under prematurely graying hair, Noah smoothed his thin beard. “Understand that this was not gossip. We would not tolerate gossip. It was concern and a desire for counsel that brought the matter to our attention. And concern for our scholars.”

  Her scholars? “I don’t understand—”

  “Mercy.” Her father held up his hand. His hazel eyes held warning. “Do not interrupt.”

  She bowed her head and waited.

  “Is it true you allowed an Englischer to substitute for you in the classroom?”

  Mercy glanced at her father. His expression grim, he nodded.

  “Not substitute, really. I was there the whole time. I offered—suggested—that Juliette try it out yesterday afternoon to see how she felt about teaching.”

  “Our kinner are not an experiment.” Lucas’s expression was somber but his tone kind. “I’ve known the Knowleses since Juliette was a bopli in diapers. They are gut people, gut neighbors. Juliette is your friend. But she has been away and only returned recently. She returned changed.”

  “I know. I only thought to help her—”

  “Our kinner don’t attend public school for a reason.” Tobias added his weight to the one-two-three punch. “We don’t want them exposed to the fallen ways of the world, especially those of the big city, of the so-called higher learning of a university.”

  Missoula was not a large town by most standards, nor a hotbed of iniquity from what Mercy had garnered from Juliette’s stories. More importantly, Juliette had been and continued to be a good friend to Mercy. “Juliette is still a gut person—”

  “Juliette was seen leaving a tavern unsteady on her feet and apparently under the influence of alcohol this past weekend.” Noah’s face turned ruddy and his cheeks puffed out. “She left in the company of a man.”