Hidden Mercies

by Serena B. Miller

  “Where is it?”

  “Over the workshop at my mother’s. I lived there before Grace and I were married. It isn’t big, but it’s furnished. Maam uses it for overnight guests sometimes. It might be a good place to stay while you make up your mind about what you’re going to do and where you’re going to go. Maam’s house doesn’t have electric, but the apartment does, and I put a bathroom and shower in a couple years ago.” Tom hoped that Levi’s offer was given out of true friendship, and not just because the hydraulics on his tractor needed a complete overhaul.

  The idea of living that close to Claire was tempting. Just being able to look out his window and see her going about her chores would be enjoyable. He might even be able to help her out a little from time to time if she would let him.

  “Wouldn’t your mother object to having someone like me living that close to her?”

  “She’s so busy taking care of the children and birthing babies, I doubt she’d even notice,” Levi said. “Besides, a lot of the Amish rent out cabins to tourists. I don’t see how this would be any different.”

  “I’d insist on paying rent.”

  “Well, that would definitely catch her interest.” Levi said. “Let me talk it over with Grace and see what she thinks.”

  “You and Grace are on speaking terms again?”

  “We are today. Last time I checked.” Doubt crept into his voice. “As far as I know.”

  • • •

  “How long would he stay?” Claire asked later that night when Levi came proposing that Tom move into his old apartment. The very idea was a worry to her.

  “I don’t know,” Levi said. “Not so long. Just until he gets his strength back. He says there’s a commercial piloting job in Toledo he’s considering taking if he decides not to go back to the military. I doubt he’ll be staying here more than a few weeks, but Grace floated a number to him that I thought was unreasonable, and he took it with no hesitation.”

  “How much?” Claire asked.

  “Four hundred dollars.”

  “A month?”

  “A week.”

  “A week!” Claire blinked. “That is a lot!”

  “Grace says that it’s a lot less than renting a hotel room during tourist season, which is what he originally intended to do.”

  “I suppose.” Claire was doubtful.

  “You don’t have to say yes.”

  “I have children,” Claire said. “Sometimes I’m gone.”

  “He’s a good man,” Levi said. “I trust him. Grace said that back on the base, he had a reputation for integrity as well as skill. She says that he would fight to protect anyone who even thought about harming you or one of your children.”

  “I—I suppose I could consider it,” Claire said. “The money would be welcome.”

  “I’ll go check out the apartment and make sure everything is turned on and working. It’s been awhile since I was up there.”

  As Levi left, Claire did the math. Four hundred dollars a week! She could hardly believe the man had agreed to such an amount! If he stayed a couple months, she might be able to afford a new buggy horse! What a help that would be!

  • • •

  It seemed to Claire that she had recently been a bigger bother to her bishop than she ever intended. First the pager, and now the apartment.

  It was a little embarrassing even to approach him about it, but at least it was a decision the bishop could make without consulting the other leaders, because it did not involve going against the Ordnung in any way.

  The bishop was working in his barn when she drove Flora in. He heard her and came out. That was a blessing. She didn’t want to go knocking at the door asking for him, which would make his wife feel like she needed to invite her in for some sort of refreshment. Even though the bishop’s wife was a kind woman, Claire had two home visits to make today, and she wanted to get this conversation over with, not have it turn into a social call.

  “Good morning,” the bishop said. He had a broken harness in his hand, and it appeared that he’d been engaged in mending it.

  “Good morning, Bishop,” she said. “I am sorry to interrupt your work.”

  “I am not sure I want to do this work,” the bishop said. “I’m coming to the conclusion that there are times when one needs to stop mending and simply purchase new.”

  “Sometimes that is necessary,” she agreed.

  “So what brings you here?” he asked. “Are you or the children in need?”

  “I am in need, Bishop,” she said. “Of your counsel.”

  “Oh?”

  “My son and daughter-in-law have taken in a soldier, a man Grace says she heard many good things about when she was working as a nurse in Afghanistan. He recently got out of the army hospital for some serious wounds he received. He came to Mt. Hope to recuperate.”

  “Why did he come here instead of someplace else?” the bishop asked. “This seems a strange place for a wounded soldier to choose.”

  “He says he used to live near here.”

  “And what is the name of this man?” The bishop was already frowning.

  “Tom Miller.”

  “You say he is Englisch and that Grace and Levi have taken him in?”

  “Yes. He was quite ill and Grace nursed him back to health rather than make him spend any more time in a hospital. She knew him in Afghanistan. She said she owes him her life.”

  “And what is it you need to ask me about this Tom Miller?”

  “He is looking for a small place to rent, temporarily. Levi thought his old apartment might be a good place.”

  “Levi approves of this plan?”

  “Levi says he trusts this man.” She hesitated and then told the bishop what was practically burning a hole in her heart. “He has offered to pay four hundred dollars a week.”

  “Four hundred dollars a week?” The bishop whistled. “For that much, I would be tempted to rent him my bedroom!”

  “It is a great deal of money,” Claire agreed.

  “And much needed, unless I miss my guess?”

  “It could be put to good use.”

  “Do you have any feelings for this man?” the bishop asked.

  Claire gave his question careful thought. “I’ve only barely met him. Our conversations have been short.”

  “Does he look good to your eyes?”

  Claire considered. “No. He has been much hurt, and is slightly disfigured.”

  “And he is an honorable man, even though he is Englisch?”

  “Grace says he has much integrity.”

  “And it is only temporary,” the bishop mused. “I see no reason you cannot make this extra money for you and the children, but I will caution you strongly against forming a relationship with this Englisch man.”

  “I have no desire for any man, Bishop,” Claire said. “My children are my only earthly concern now—them and the mothers I serve.”

  “You will not go into his apartment for any reason unless he is gone. If he is there, one of your children must accompany you.”

  “Yes, Bishop, that won’t be a problem.”

  “You say that now, but you are still young. Some Englisch men see a virtuous Amish woman as a challenge.”

  “I will be very careful, Bishop,” Claire said. “Thank you for your permission and your wise counsel.”

  “One more thing,” the bishop said. “Remember that some people will pay more attention to what you do than if you were . . . someone else.”

  “You mean because of Levi?”

  “Yes.” He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Our people should have shorter memories than that, but sadly, they do not.”

  Her face burned, and she wished she was not having this conversation with him. “Thank you. I will be mindful of that.”

  As she left, she couldn’t help but think about all the years of faithful service to her family and the Lord—and her people still had things to say about her.

  On the whole, the Amish were terrible gos
sips. They knew better, and they didn’t mean anything cruel by it, it was just that they were so extremely interested in one another’s business.

  She was quite aware that she had become the cautionary tale with which local Amish mothers warned their daughters not to assume that they were “as good as married” until their union had been blessed by both the church and God.

  As she drove, she contemplated the bishop’s words of warning. Yes, she was intrigued by Tom Miller, and puzzled over the haunted look she saw in his eyes from time to time. She sometimes wondered at the feeling of familiarity she had when she was around him. But what the bishop did not understand was that she was the last one in the world to be tempted by yet another man. The grief of loving and burying Matthew, and then enduring a marriage to Abraham, had been enough challenge for one lifetime. Deep in her heart, though, she knew that the bishop was right. It would not be wise for her to spend any time alone with Tom Miller. It wasn’t about giving the gossips fodder—it was about protecting her heart.

  She had dreamed one night this week that in the middle of the overgrown garden that was her life, filled with the large, familiar blossoms of concerns about her children and her work, she had discovered a tiny bright flower growing. It was a delicate flower that she had never seen before, and she kept wondering how this exotic plant had gotten here. She had certainly not planted it. She knew she should pluck it out—but leaving it there to come upon from time to time gave her pleasure.

  The dream had been so vivid, she had lain and pondered it in the gray dawn before anyone else stirred. It had not taken her long to recognize the truth her mind was trying to tell her. Tom was so alien from anything she had ever known, so exotic compared to her humdrum existence, she had allowed a small fascination with him to develop.

  She was grateful for the dream and for its warning. The last thing she needed was to have feelings for an Englisch man. It had been hard enough watching her son go through that agony and the disastrous marriage that had ensued. Unlike Levi, she would consider leaving the Amish church for no one. She needed to be very careful. The last thing she needed was a broken heart.

  chapter FOURTEEN

  The apartment above the workshop was clean, sparse, and exactly what he needed.

  He’d been a little worried about climbing the steps, but by using the handrail, he could make it. Levi carried his duffel bag up. Grace had gone to the grocery store and bought a few things so that he could have breakfast in the morning. Elizabeth had baked some cookies to take with him.

  It was nice to have a family.

  He soon saw that he wouldn’t lack reading material while he lived here. The walls of Levi’s old apartment were absolutely lined with books!

  “Sorry about all the books.” Levi sat Tom’s duffel on the bed. “I got a little carried away after I left the Swartzentrubers.”

  “Have you read all of these?” Tom asked.

  “Most,” Levi said. “After I left, it seemed like there weren’t enough books in the world. I was starved for knowledge.”

  “It’s an impressive collection.”

  “Actually, I’m ashamed,” Levi said. “A man should have better things to do with his time than read. I am afraid reading is a great weakness of mine.”

  “I wouldn’t count that as a weakness,” Tom said. “Have you ever considered getting a more formal education?”

  “I took a few classes at a nearby community college after I got my GED.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Very much.”

  “What kind of classes did you take?”

  “The basics. I had the foolish notion of someday becoming a teacher.”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “I could no longer justify taking college classes once we were expecting a child. I will soon have a family to support.”

  Levi lovingly ran his hand over the spines of the books nearest him. “My stepfather would be turning in his grave if he knew that there were this many books on his property.”

  Claire walked in, a quilt folded over her arm. “He could not help the way he was. Abraham was only doing what he thought best. That is the way he was raised.”

  “That’s true,” Levi said. “I’m sorry. I should not have criticized him.”

  Claire waved off his apology and laid the folded quilt across the foot of the bed. “Here is extra warmth if you need it. I hope you will be comfortable here.”

  “I appreciate your hospitality,” Tom said.

  Claire merely gave a curt nod and went back down the steps.

  He was a little surprised at the lack of warmth. Claire was usually more personable than that.

  “Is she okay with me being here?” Tom said.

  “She seemed fine with it when we talked,” Levi said. “Maam gets a little preoccupied when she has a client who is close to birth. She will be fine. I’m going to be working downstairs for a while today. Come down whenever you’re settled and I’ll show you around my shop. And there’s this broken chain saw . . .”

  “I’ll take a look at it, son.”

  “Thanks.”

  Levi headed down the stairs, unperturbed by Tom’s slip of tongue. It wasn’t unusual for an older man to refer to a younger man as “son.” Tom knew that, but what shook him was that he had nearly meant it literally. He had met Levi only a week ago, but it would be easy to love him as a son.

  Realizing this, he pondered the question that he had posed to Claire a few days earlier. Was there anything Levi could do that would make him stop loving him? Could make him hate him? He came up with the same answer Claire had—no. He might be disappointed, or hurt, or angry—but to stop loving him? He honestly did not think it was possible.

  He wondered what it was about him that had made it possible for his father to hate him so much that he would pretend he no longer existed.

  • • •

  Claire hid those first four hundred-dollar bills that Tom gave her for rent beneath a rug in her bedroom. This was the start of her new horse fund, and she was absolutely determined not to dip into it. Flora had been wheezing yesterday when she came home, even though it was a fairly short trip to the bishop’s.

  Today was going to be a good day. She had no appointments, no one ready to go into labor, and Maddy wasn’t at work today. And it was Saturday, so the younger children were not at school, and the sun was shining. The only thing she had to do today was start working on her house so she could host church without embarrassment. Her plan was to make a list of jobs for each of the children and take a good hard run at that mountain of work she had to do. Even Amy could do some dusting and sorting out of drawers, especially if she had Sarah’s and Daniel’s help. Albert and Jesse could start shoveling out the stables. Hopefully Levi could help with that. She and the older girls could begin washing the walls upstairs. It was not looked down upon to have a “work frolic” the week before hosting church, but the family was expected to do as much as possible in the weeks leading up to it.

  She had gathered her children together around the kitchen table and was handing out assignments when her sister, Rose, knocked on the screen door with a basket over her arm.

  A visit with Rose was always welcome. Perhaps, if her back was feeling better, she could stay and help with the impromptu work frolic she and the children were having. What fun that would be!

  Her hopes about her sister staying were soon crushed.

  “Can I talk to you privately on the porch?” Rose asked after a brief greeting.

  Rose’s face was pinched with worry, and she seemed thinner.

  “Of course.” An ominous feeling was stirring in the pit of Claire’s stomach as she followed Rose to the far end of the porch.

  Rose had a bad habit of chewing her fingernails when she was upset, even when she was small. For years, Claire had accurately judged her sister’s emotional state by glancing at her fingernails. Well-shaped, healthy nails were a sign that things were going well in Rose’s world.

  As her
sister drew back a towel to reveal several fine pieces of china in her basket, Claire saw her fingers and stifled a gasp. Rose had practically gnawed her fingernails off. Even her cuticles were ragged and bleeding.

  “You mentioned that you liked this dinnerware set the last time you came over,” Rose said. “I—I’m getting rid of some things. I wondered if you might like to take them off my hands. I wouldn’t charge you very much.”

  This behavior was so out of character, coming from her generous sister, that Claire could hardly believe it. In the past, Rose would have given her first choice of anything she no longer wanted, and refused any mention of pay.

  “What’s going on, Rose?” Claire said. “I’m your sister, you can tell me.”

  Rose feigned nonchalance. “Oh, we’re a little short on cash this month. I thought I’d sell a few things that I was planning on getting rid of anyway.”

  “You loved this set,” Claire said. “It was a tenth anniversary gift from Henry. I’m going to ask again—what is going on?”

  “If you don’t want to buy them, it’s okay.” Rose tucked the towel back over the dishes and attempted to leave. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

  Claire blocked her way. “You aren’t leaving this porch until you tell me exactly what is going on in your life.”

  She knew a battle was going on inside of Rose. Her sister was torn between loyalty to her husband, her own pride, and great need. She knew the instant when the battle stopped, because what light there had been in Rose’s eyes went out.

  “We have no food in the house,” Rose said. “My children are hungry.”

  Those words felt like the kick in the stomach she had once received from an irritated milk cow.

  “What about all of that canned produce you put up last summer?” Claire asked. “Even we have not eaten all we grew yet.”

  “What do you think we’ve been living on the past few months, Claire? It’s gone.”

  The idea of a good Amish family having no food in their house was unbelievable. She could hardly imagine it. No one went hungry in Holmes County. At least no one who was Amish. A family might be a little ragged, their shoes worn, but the land was rich and generous, and help from neighbors was plentiful when there was need.