Levi sat back and didn’t say anything for a moment.
“I will listen to what you have to say.”
“If I were you, I’d go buy the woman a television. You don’t have to listen to it. Just let her watch it sometimes. Maybe she’ll ease up on the other stuff then.”
“I will give thought to what you say.”
“Good, now, then, come here and give me a hand. I will teach you about motors if you want to learn—but you’ll have to do most of the work. I don’t have the grip I used to.”
“Grace says I paid too much money for an old tractor that I don’t know how to keep running.”
“Yeah, well, let’s prove her wrong.”
“I have one more favor to ask.”
“Anything, Levi.”
“Would you stay a few more days?”
“Why?”
Levi gave him a sheepish grin. “There are other motors around here that I do not know how to fix.”
Tom knew exactly how to get a broken spark plug out of an engine block. It was a pleasure teaching his nephew, who was so quick to learn, how to accomplish this tricky task. Levi had just successfully replaced the broken spark plug, and Tom was in the process of giving his nephew an awkward high five, when Elizabeth walked in.
“What are you boys up to?” She was wearing a purple dress, a rope of pearls around her neck, a big quilted purse, and white tennis shoes.
“I thought I was supposed to come and get you,” Levi said.
“Hazel brought me home instead.”
“I think it might start now,” Tom said. “Give her a crank.”
Levi hopped onto the seat, turned the ignition, and the tractor roared to life. The grin on Levi’s face was worth every second Tom had spent helping him. He grew even more satisfied when Levi drove it out of the barn, down the driveway, and toward Claire’s without mishap.
“I saw your note inside the house,” Elizabeth said. “It said you were leaving, but you are still here.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I really was leaving, but Levi was having trouble and I stayed to help him.”
“Have we done something to offend you?”
“No. Of course not. It’s just that I’m stronger now, and I don’t want to intrude any longer.”
“That’s the happiest I’ve seen that boy since he bought that piece of junk from old Harold Givens. I could have told him that Harold would try to take him—and he did—but Levi was trying so hard to act like he knew what he was doing that he wouldn’t listen to me. Came home with that mess that he’d paid too much for. It made Grace mad when she saw it and she said some things that hurt him. He’s been tinkering with it ever since. Looks to me like you kinda handed him his manhood back. It might help if you’d stay around and teach him how to do some things he doesn’t know how to do.”
Tom scratched his head. “Levi did ask me to stay.”
“And I’m asking you to stay, too.”
“But Grace . . .”
“Grace is either working, puking, or fussing at Levi. She won’t hardly notice whether you’re here or not. Besides, it’s my house and there’s plenty of room.” She handed him the envelope with the money still in it. “Now that you’re feeling a little better, it will be good for Levi to spend some time with you. It’s been hard on him trying to transition. Frankly, it’s been hard on me having to watch him. Having you here has been a relief.”
How well he understood. If it hadn’t been for an understanding commanding officer and some Marine buddies, he would have been in sad shape himself.
“I guess I could stick around for a few more days.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Elizabeth said. “And I’m sure Levi would, too.”
• • •
“Do you miss it?” Grace asked.
They were in the living room. She was sorting some baby clothes a coworker at the hospital had given her. Elizabeth was working on a class for her Wednesday-evening Bible study, and Levi was still out plowing, even though it was getting dark. Apparently he was so thrilled with having a tractor that worked, he did not intend to come in until it was too dark to see or he ran out of gas.
“Miss what?” Tom glanced up from filling in the remaining blocks of one of Elizabeth’s innumerable half-finished crossword puzzles.
“Flying. Being in a war zone. Helping people.”
“I miss flying. Being in a war zone not so much. Why?”
“I felt so . . . necessary over there.” Grace’s voice was wistful. “Do you know what I mean?”
“All I did was fly shotgun for some of the medevac crews that went out. I didn’t actually hold lives in my hands, not like you and the others.”
“I was good at what I did.”
“I’m sure you still are.” He tried to go back to the crossword. Grace did not take the hint.
“Do you think cooking and cleaning and canning and gardening are as important as saving lives?”
Elizabeth looked up sharply. He was definitely walking on thin ice here. “I think they are as important.”
She shot him a look. “No you don’t.”
True. He had to admit it. Canned peaches could be purchased in a grocery store for pocket change. People with Grace’s skills were rare.
“Levi has no idea what I did over there, or who I was, or even what I do at the ER. I could be working overtime trying to save a grandfather from going into heart failure, but all Levi sees is an empty place at the supper table.”
“There is no way I’m going to weigh in on this.”
“Nor should you have to,” Elizabeth said. “Grace, that’s enough.”
It was the sharpest he’d ever heard Elizabeth speak to her granddaughter.
Being in a house divided felt awkward. As a Marine, he was trained how to dodge bullets—not how to deal with a young woman’s marital woes.
Grace ignored her. “I’ve given up the clothes I like to wear, because he doesn’t like me to wear jeans anymore, and I hate wearing dresses. I’ve grown my hair out until it is driving me nuts. He doesn’t approve of TV, so I have to sneak over to Grandma’s even if I just want to watch the news. We’re having a child sooner than I wanted because he was afraid we might not have time to have a large family if we waited any longer. He doesn’t like the church Grandma and I were going to—but he hasn’t found anything else he likes better—so most Sundays we don’t go anywhere anymore.”
“Grace!” Elizabeth said. “Enough! If you spent as much time praying about your marriage as you do complaining about it, you might be a happier woman.”
Grace looked at her grandmother as though she had just been slapped.
Then she got up and rushed out of the room, in tears. Tom decided that he would rather face a firing squad than have to deal with a crying, pregnant woman.
“I apologize. It’s just the pregnancy hormones talking. At least, I hope that’s all it is.” Elizabeth glanced toward the kitchen door and acted startled. “Oh. Levi. When did you come in?”
Levi was standing in the doorway. He was weary, and looked far too old for a man only in his twenties. He was staring at the door Grace had just gone out.
“Maybe we should never have married,” Levi said. “I am afraid that our child will pay the price for it.”
Then he turned on his heel and left.
chapter TEN
“Having trouble sleeping?” Elizabeth asked. “Me, too.”
It was after 2 a.m. Tom found himself once again on the back porch. Levi had not come home yet. He could hear Grace crying herself to sleep upstairs, directly over where he lay. He’d dozed, but felt worse for it. Just when he thought he had beaten the nightmares, another one had hit. Matthew had been in it. Actually, it had not been a nightmare, which in some ways made it worse to endure. It was a dream that Matthew was alive again, a good dream, in which Matthew was living with Claire and surrounded by children. He had been so happy to see his brother again. Then he’d awakened, and realized that it had been no
thing more than a cruel joke that his subconscious had played on him.
It had broken his heart. Again.
Allowing Levi and Elizabeth to talk him into staying longer had been a mistake. Being here with Levi, who looked and acted so much like Matthew, as well as talking with Claire again, was not wise. Not when his nerves were already shot.
Now he was half afraid that if he went back to sleep, he’d be visited with the birthday cake–suicide bomber nightmare again. He decided it would be better to stay awake than to chance it, and had come out here where it was cool and peaceful. “Yes, I’m having trouble sleeping.”
“Nightmares again?” Elizabeth asked.
“How did you know about the nightmares?”
“I heard you talking in your sleep the first night you came here.”
“Yes. I’ve been having nightmares again.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About the nightmares? No. That wouldn’t help.”
“I’m not talking about nightmares. I’m talking about the other thing that is bothering you.”
“What other thing?”
“Whatever it is that you’re wrestling with.”
“It’s just nightmares and a little insomnia. Nothing to worry about.”
“I was an educator for many years, Tom. I know the look on a child’s face when they are keeping a secret that is eating them up. You have that same lost look. Do you think you might be able to sleep if you talked about it with someone?”
Could he trust her?
“And yes, in case you’re wondering, you can trust me.”
“What are you, Elizabeth?” He tried to laugh. “A mind reader?”
“If you live long enough, and pay close enough attention, after a while it gets pretty easy to read faces.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m sure it is. Neither of us is going to get any sleep tonight. Tell me what’s bothering you, son.”
He did not know whether or not he could trust her, but what he did know was that he desperately needed to talk to someone. She was right. His secret was eating him up. And even though he was a grown man in his forties, and she looked nothing like his Amish mother, there was still something about Elizabeth that reminded him of her.
“My given name is not Tom Miller. That is my legal name.”
“Okay, that’s a good start. Who are you?”
“Tobias Troyer. I had my name changed the day after I turned eighteen.”
Elizabeth pulled her legs up under her on the cushioned porch chair, as though settling in for a long session. “One of our neighbors, Jeremiah Troyer, had a son with that name.”
“I know.”
There was a long silence as his and Elizabeth’s eyes locked, and she digested the impact of what he had revealed.
“That makes you Levi’s uncle. The one who left and never came back. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I intended to explain who I was the minute I introduced myself to Claire. Then I fell ill again, and the next thing I knew, Grace had stuck a thermometer in my mouth, read my dog tags, and drawn her own conclusions. I felt too bad at the time to go into a long explanation.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve even told the truth after a fashion. You legally are Tom Miller. But why on earth did you change your name?”
“I was hurt and angry at my father for a long time. It seemed like a good way to strike back at him—to deliberately get rid of even the name he gave me. Miller was a family name of my mother’s. I wanted to make a completely fresh start.”
“I know very little about you as Tobias Troyer,” Elizabeth said. “Except for the fact of your existence.”
“That’s probably just as well.”
“So what happened? Why did you leave?”
“I was the cause of my brother’s death.”
“That’s it? You ran away because you felt responsible?”
“No. It was something my father said to me at the funeral.”
“And what was that?”
“I tried to tell him how sorry I was.” Tom swallowed hard before he could get the words out. “But all Daed said was, ‘It should have been you.’ Then to make sure I understood exactly what he was saying, he said, “I wish it had been you.”
“What a horrible thing to say!” Elizabeth said.
“I agreed with him, though,” Tom said. “I still do.”
“Oh, honey. You shouldn’t feel that way.”
“Maybe not—but I still think it.”
“You weren’t formally banned, though, were you?” She said. “I mean, you were only seventeen. You hadn’t been baptized into the church yet.”
“Actually, I had been baptized. Before Matthew came home, I thought I might have a chance with Claire. She was one of those girls who felt so sure of her religion that she chose to be baptized the summer she turned sixteen. I followed right along and was baptized early, too. I thought it would help my chances with her, and she was the only girl I had ever wanted. So, yes, when I ran away, I was most definitely banned.”
“Now you wonder if your father will receive you?”
“I doubt he’ll even meet with me. You’ve lived here. You know how strict the Swartzentrubers can be. A stricter Meidung was the main reason they split from their Old Order church in the first place.”
“So why are you here?”
“It feels . . . I don’t know . . . like I’m stuck right now and I can’t get on with my life until I find out how he’ll react to me after all these years. Frankly, I’m wondering the same about Claire.”
“Are you still in love with her?”
“No. Of course not. That would be foolish. So much time has passed, I don’t really even know her. I just want to apologize to her about what I did to her life. I also wanted to meet Matthew’s son.”
“Well, now that you have, what do you think of him?”
“I think Matthew would be proud of him,” Tom said. “I hate for him to think I have been deliberately lying to him. That was not my intent.”
“You know,” she said, “I think that the Lord has given you an opportunity many people never get.”
“What’s that?”
“I think you need to go see your father—as Tom Miller, the person you are today. You can tell him that you are a helicopter pilot. You are Englisch. You used to live around here. All of that is true. Tell him you were friends with his son Matthew—which is also true. Give your father a chance to get to know you as the man you are today. Give yourself a chance to get to know your father as the man he is today. Then, if you want, you can decide whether or not to tell him who you used to be.”
“The church will discipline him if he has anything to do with me.”
“You know, Tom?” she said. “I like Jeremiah. He’s been a good neighbor to me for many years. He accepts the fact that I’m Englisch and we get along fine. I think the two of you might enjoy spending a little time together, and after all the two of you have been through, you deserve that. I am not all that convinced that his bishop needs to know everything right now. I have had some dealings with Bishop Weaver, and he is not an open man. Let your father get to know you as Tom Miller. Then someday, when he finds out who you are, he will have those memories of talking with you, without having to feel guilty for having done so.”
“You don’t think this is underhanded?”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “I think it is being kind to an old man who has been through way too much.”
“Should I remain silent about who I am to Levi and Claire?”
“It might be wise for now. Let them get to know you as the person you are now without all that other baggage you’ll need to work through with them later. If they get upset, I’ll take the blame. I’ll tell them that I twisted your arm and forced you to be quiet. Frankly, Tom, I think you need to drive down and see your father tomorrow. That’s a meeting that is way overdue.”
• • •
One twenty-five-pound bag
of chicken feed, $18.75.
Claire tapped her freshly sharpened pencil on the desk that Abraham had made. She’d done the math. Although her chickens scratched in the dirt for a living, their diet also had to be supplemented. She’d discovered that it cost more for her to raise her own eggs than it did to buy them at the grocery store.
The problem was, the bright orange-yoked eggs her own chickens laid were infinitely superior in taste and nutrition to the cheap, pale-yolked ones that came from the store. Good nutrition was important to growing children. She would keep her laying hens. The extra price was worth it. The chicken feed would stay.
Veterinarian bill and medicine, $150. That was for the case of mastitis her little Jersey cow had developed. It might be cheaper to buy store-bought milk, but at around three dollars a gallon, she doubted it. Hopefully, the cow would stay well now. Seven gallons a day that little cow gave. Plenty of butter and cream, too. The cow most definitely earned her keep.
Cloth for Amy’s new dress, $15.10. They’d gotten a good deal on that material.
Cough syrup for Sarah’s bad cough, $9.21. It had helped, but next time the little girl caught a cold, Claire was determined to mix up a batch of her own elderberry cough and cold syrup. She could find elderberries along the roadside for free.
The expenses mounted up, even when it felt like she wasn’t buying anything at all.
Her biggest financial worry of all, however, was the age of her standardbred horse. At twenty, Flora was simply too old to pull the buggy much longer. Claire tried to keep the buggy as light as possible and to go only short ways with plenty of rests in between, but she needed a new horse badly.
If only she could become a certified midwife! Then she could work under the doctor who oversaw the midwives at the famous Mt. Eaton Care Center, the birthing center that Dr. Lehman had spearheaded when Barb, the saintly Amish woman who had taken laboring mothers into her home, couldn’t handle the hard physical work any longer.
Her church district would never allow her to become certified. She’d heard that a few New Order Amish church districts were beginning to allow some of their midwives to become certified—but even allowing her to have a pager was a stretch for hers.
Hidden Mercies Page 9
