Hidden Mercies

by Serena B. Miller

  She would have to keep their relationship on a friendship level, and only a friendship level. Anything else would be disastrous.

  “If this decision gives you peace, then I’m happy for you.”

  “It does give me peace. Now, is there anything you can tell me to do that would make your life easier?”

  “Actually, there is a big thing you can do.”

  “Name it.”

  “You won’t like it.”

  “Name it.”

  “I’ve asked Henry and Rose and their children over this evening for Sunday supper,” Claire said. “I would appreciate it if you would join us.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That is a lot to ask. It is not easy for me to be around my brother-in-law these days,” Claire said. “Having you there would be helpful to me.”

  “I’ll be happy to come. Have things gotten worse?”

  “Rose told me last week that they are for sure and certain losing their home. The bank will give them no more extensions.”

  Jesse came bounding out of the house, came to a skidding stop at seeing their serious faces, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” she said. “I was inviting Tom to come to supper tonight with Rose and Henry and their children.”

  “Is Henry a bad man?” Jesse asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because every time you say his name now, your voice sounds like it does when you’re mad with one of us.”

  Tom expected her to sugarcoat her answer. She did not.

  “You are right. I am angry with Henry,” she said. “And I have no idea if he’s a bad man or not. That’s what I hope to find out.”

  chapter TWENTY-SIX

  Claire already regretted inviting Rose and Henry and their five children to supper. The invitation had been extended in a fit of compassion for her sister. Now she wondered how she could manage to show respect to her brother-in-law when she believed with all her heart that he was involved in something he should not be.

  Had she been in Rose’s shoes, she would not have stood for being kept in ignorance. But then again, she had never been in Rose’s exact shoes. It was not possible to understand the intricacies of another’s marriage. Abraham had not been an easy man to live with, but she had never had reason to doubt his faithfulness. Nor had he ever left them in want.

  “They are here,” Jesse called.

  She also regretted her words earlier this morning when Jesse asked if Henry was a bad man. Who knew what the child might say at the supper table? She did not want Rose or her children getting their feelings hurt.

  She did not care if Henry’s feelings got hurt.

  “You have made a feast,” Rose said, as she and her family walked into the kitchen. “Thank you.”

  “Maddy helped a great deal. And Sarah.” Claire said. “My girls are becoming very good cooks.”

  “Henry.” She tried to be civil. “I am glad you could come.”

  “Is supper ready yet?” He fingered his beard, nervously, a habit she hated to see in a man.

  “Are you in a hurry, Henry? Do you have someplace you need to be?” She tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice but did not succeed. It would be best, she decided, simply to keep her mouth shut.

  “I wrote a poem for you today.” Amy wheeled herself into the kitchen and handed a card to Rose. “I thought you might like it.”

  Claire saw that it was the card that Amy had been working on all day, ever since she found out that Rose’s family was coming. She had looked over Amy’s shoulder at one point and had been surprised to see that she was drawing a stark, barren tree with no leaves on its branches. That was not the kind of picture Amy usually drew.

  “Read it out loud,” Amy said.

  “Thank you,” Rose said. “I will be happy to.”

  Dreams

  Dreams are made of heart and soul

  More precious than diamonds or gold.

  Some dreams get broken and frayed

  Leaving your heart lonely and betrayed

  Left not knowing where to stand

  You reach up for a helping hand

  A strong hand and maybe angels, too.

  He said, “Follow, I’ll lead you there.

  I know it’s hard to see it true

  But I have better plans for you

  The road may be long and rough,

  But lean on me, and it won’t be so tough.

  Soon the sun will light your path,

  And a dream will blossom,

  One that will last.

  Claire saw her sister’s chin tremble.

  “Thank you, Amy. I needed that poem today.”

  Amy, with eyes entirely too wise for her age, said, “I thought you might.”

  • • •

  “These green beans are outstanding, Claire,” Rose said. “How many quarts have you and the girls canned so far this year?”

  “Only four dozen. I’ll get another good picking in a few days and the girls and I should be able to double that.”

  “That’s good.”

  Silence fell on the table, and it was not the first time. Tom could tell that Claire and her sister were struggling to keep a conversation going. Now they gave up and simply ate their meal. Even the children seemed subdued.

  He had been introduced only as Claire’s renter. Within those boundaries, there was little he could contribute to the dinner conversation. Henry didn’t even try.

  Tom had gone to the hardware store in Mt. Hope several times since he’d seen Henry catching a ride there, but had never caught him there again. He could still kick himself for having almost run out of gas that day. He didn’t know what he could do about it if he found out what Henry was up to, but at least he could give Claire something to work with.

  Henry finished his plate and pushed it aside. They had been seated next to each other, and Tom saw Henry, with his hands now unoccupied, flicking his right wrist beneath the table as he gazed out a window.

  It was one of the oddest mannerisms he had ever seen, and yet it was familiar. He had known a soldier who had developed the same strange behavior.

  “How about me and you outside and walk off some of this good food?” he suggested. “While the women clean up the dishes.”

  “What?” Henry looked startled. “Oh. Sure.”

  Tom led him toward the barn, chatting about inconsequential things, but the minute they walked inside and were out of sight of the house, he slammed his cousin up against a stall.

  “How dare you do this to your family?”

  “Wh—what?” Henry looked dazed.

  Tom grabbed him by the shirt collar and shook him. “How dare you allow your wife and children to go hungry? How dare you lose the good farm your father handed over to you free and clear? I thought you were smarter than that, Henry. I can’t believe you’ve been this stupid.”

  “What are you talking about?” Henry struggled to get away. “Who are you, anyway?”

  “Tell me how you lost it. Blackjack? Poker? Slot machines? Playing the ponies?”

  Henry’s eyes grew wide. “How did you know? And who are you?”

  “That thing you were doing with your wrist at the supper table. You were throwing dice, weren’t you? Visualizing it in your mind? Or is it because you’ve tossed so many dice you can’t stop throwing them, even when they aren’t there? I bet you can’t even tell me what you were eating, and Claire’s worked on that supper all day.”

  “Get off me!” Henry shoved him away.

  Tom came right back at him, so furious he felt like he could tear the man apart. “You deserve a beating for what you’ve done. Do you know that?” He grabbed him by the collar again. “Do you realize your wife was here, trying to sell her favorite china to get enough money to buy groceries? Claire gave her four hundred dollars that she couldn’t afford to give. How long did it take you to gamble that much away? Five minutes? Ten?”

  Henry’s eyes took on a hungry look. “Rose has four hu
ndred dollars?”

  That’s when he hit him, with every last ounce of strength he had. Pain had never felt so satisfying as the sting he felt in his knuckles as Henry went down.

  “Henry?” Rose appeared in the doorway of the barn. “Is that true?”

  Tom half expected her to rush to her husband’s aid, but Rose was beyond that. Instead, she walked over and stood looking down at him.

  “I came out to see if you two were ready for dessert,” she said.

  Henry sat up and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

  “Is this true, Henry? Are the children and I losing our home because you gambled it away?”

  “I—I had some debts.”

  “I just bet you did,” Tom said.

  Henry stood up, took a handkerchief out of his pocket, and dabbed at the cut on his mouth.

  “Where have you been going?” Rose asked. “Where does an Amish man who should be home putting in crops go in order to gamble?”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Henry said. “It was the horses.”

  “The horses?” she asked. “What about the horses?”

  “I know horses. You know that. I’ve always known horses. An Englisch friend took me to Scioto Downs over near Columbus awhile back. He thought I might know horses well enough that I could help him place some bets.”

  “You lost everything betting on horses?” Tom was incredulous.

  “No. Scioto Downs has a casino, too.” Henry’s eyes took on that faraway look. “Video games, slot machines, cards, you name it.” He snapped to and seemed to realize that he had a wife listening to him rhapsodize. “I plan on getting it back, Rose. Honest. I was just on a losing streak there for a while. Tom says Claire gave you some money. If I could borrow some of it, I’m sure I could . . .”

  Rose turned on her heel and walked away. A few minutes later, he and Henry heard buggy wheels crunching over gravel as she pulled out onto the road with the children.

  “It’s five miles to my house,” Henry said. “Who’s going to take me home?”

  “Heck if I know,” Tom said. “Maybe you should call a gambling buddy. One thing for sure—it’s not going to be me or Claire.”

  • • •

  “Henry told you that?” Claire was incredulous. “Scioto Downs? Horse racing? Casinos? What kind of Amish man loses his family’s home by gambling?”

  “My guess is probably not a very good one.”

  It was late. Now that the children were in bed, they could freely discuss what had happened. He had watched Claire wrestle with what to tell the children when they asked why Henry was walking home. Finally, she’d simply told them the truth. He liked that about her.

  “At least we know now what was going on.”

  “Do you think Rose will leave him?”

  “Leave him? Of course not. Don’t you remember what you were taught as a child? Divorce is not an option? But I would not want to be Henry when he gets back inside that house.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  “Now that Rose knows what Henry has been involved in, she will go to the bishop and the church leaders will get involved.”

  “Will they intervene with the sale of the house?”

  “Not as long as the children and Rose have shelter. It would take a great deal of money to save their property, and if Henry does not feel the true sting of loss, he may never seek to make a change within himself. I have heard that a gambling addiction is a powerful thing.”

  “Henry will need real help. Some sort of a recovery program. He might even have to get some in-house treatment,” Tom said. “Will your bishop allow such a thing?”

  “Our bishop?” Claire said. “Not only will Bishop Schrock allow it—to save one of our families, he would take money out of his own pocket to pay for it.”

  chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

  It was almost dark when he saw it. He was coming home from the grocery store Monday evening, and saw someone sitting in the weeds beside the road, less than a mile from his apartment. He stopped the car and walked over to investigate. He was shocked when he saw that it was a young woman, and she appeared to be exceedingly pregnant.

  Was this perhaps one of Claire’s patients? Walking to see her and overcome with labor pains?

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  It was a stupid thing to say. Of course she wasn’t all right. She was sitting in the weeds beside the road and was at least eight months pregnant, if not more. She was a tiny thing, and her belly was so large in comparison to her body, it was almost grotesque.

  One thing was for sure, she was not Amish. Dirty blond hair. A brightly colored tie-dyed top. Filthy white shorts, and lime-green flip-flops. A tattoo adorned her ankle. It was of a snake. Nope. Definitely not Amish.

  “Do you need help?” he asked. “Can I call someone?”

  She tried to stand up, and he helped steady her.

  “The bus left me off in Mt. Eaton. I caught a ride to Mt. Hope. I’m trying to get to my parents’ house, but I don’t think this baby is going to wait.”

  The only thing he could think to do was get her to Claire’s as fast as possible. Claire was a mile away, the nearest hospital maybe a half hour. He knew she would be home because she had told him this morning she planned on canning green beans all day.

  “There’s a midwife two minutes from here. Claire Shetler. I’m going to take you to her.”

  “Levi’s maam?”

  “Yes.” He was puzzled. What could this ragged-looking Englisch woman possibly know about Levi and his mother?

  “Okay.”

  He helped her into the backseat of his car, one side of which held two full grocery sacks. A package of cookies peeked out of one. He saw her eying it, hungrily.

  “Help yourself,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

  The woman’s features were nearly as beautiful as Maddy’s, but that was where the comparison ended. Where Maddy had a look of youth and purity, this woman had led a hard life.

  She tore open the package of cookies and wolfed them down, one after another, crumbs falling unheeded all over her and his car.

  Then she grabbed her belly and let out a groan.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m either in labor or I’ve got some really bad cramps.”

  He laid on the horn as he rounded the corner to Claire’s and kept it blaring as he pulled into the driveway. He had never been so grateful in his life to see anyone as he was when Claire came running up to the car.

  “What on earth is wrong?” Then she saw that he had a passenger in the backseat. “Oh!”

  “This woman is half starved and in labor,” he said. “I found her sitting along the side of the road.”

  “She wanted to see me?” Claire sounded confused. “I have no Englisch clients.”

  “She was trying to get to her parents. I was the one who suggested we come here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  The young woman was in the throes of another contraction when Claire opened the car door.

  “It’s okay,” Claire soothed as she stroked the girls hair away from her face. “It’s . . . .” She froze, staring, aghast. “Zillah?” Her voice rose high in astonishment.

  “Can you call Daadi and Mommi?” the girl asked. “I want to see them again—really bad.”

  “Help me get her inside, Tom.”

  Albert, Jesse, Sarah, and Amy were playing Hearts in the front room. Maddy was sewing a dress on the treadle machine. Daniel was playing with building blocks on the floor. The games and the sewing machine stopped and they all gaped as he and Claire half carried the disheveled girl into the house and to the couch. Even Daniel seemed subdued by the hubbub.

  “Maddy,” Claire commanded. “Go out to the phone shanty and call Grace. Tell her we need her. Then call Bishop Schrock. His wife can hear the phone from her house. They are neighbors to Bishop Weaver and his wife and will know what to do.”

  “Who is Bishop Weaver?”
Maddy asked.

  “He’s Zillah’s father and bishop of the Swartzentruber church that Levi and I used to belong to before you came to live with us. Tell them that Zillah is here and is asking for her parents. Whatever you do, don’t tell him she’s pregnant. I don’t know if he’ll come if he knows that—and I think it might be very important for him to get here.”

  Maddy was out the door like a shot.

  Tom helped Zillah lie back against the couch pillows as Claire pulled off the flip-flops. He couldn’t help but notice the girl’s filthy feet against the clean couch, but that appeared to be the least of Claire’s worries. She seemed to be focused on the puffiness of the girl’s feet and ankles.

  “How far along are you?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t know.” Zillah panted from the exertion of the last contraction. “Pretty far, I guess.”

  “When was the last time you saw a doctor?”

  “I never saw a doctor.”

  “At all?”

  Zillah shook her head.

  “Albert, go get my midwife bag,” Claire said. “Jesse, take Sarah and Daniel outside. Keep them there. Do you understand?”

  “Ja.” Jesse did not hesitate. He quickly herded his little brother and sister outside.

  “Here.” Albert had brought his mother’s midwife bag.

  She grabbed a stethoscope out of her bag and frowned as she listened to the girl’s heart. Then she grabbed a blood pressure cuff, pumped it up, and listened as she slowly let the air out. Her face grew pale.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She ripped the blood pressure cuff off.

  “How fast can you get us to the hospital?”

  “A half hour if the roads are clear. More if I get behind too many buggies.”

  “We have to go.” She tossed the cuffs and stethoscope into her bag. “Now.”

  At that moment, Grace came running in with Levi beside her. They stopped in their tracks, apparently as stunned as Claire when she first saw the girl.

  “Zillah!” Grace exclaimed.

  “What are you doing here?” Zillah said.

  Levi turned on his heel and left the room.

  Claire put her arm around Zillah and gave Grace a meaningful look. “Come on, honey. We need to get you to the hospital. Please stand up for me.”