A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  My fault, she thought, biting her lower lip in an attempt to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. This is all my fault.

  “Adam, I am so sorry about this. Please, forgive me. It was wrong to lie, but it was long ago.”

  Before I knew you.

  Before I loved you.

  He shook his head, his dark eyes glittering. “I have to protect my family. It’s my responsibility to keep them safe from … from people like you.”

  “Remy! Adam! There is a very big icebox downstairs. So big, you can walk inside!” Simon bounded over, his arms outstretched, his fists full of shiny cellophane-wrapped candies. “And there are so many pans in there already! Do you want to come see?”

  “No, thanks.” Adam’s voice was clipped, restrained.

  Remy tried to answer but couldn’t form words over the swell of tears in her throat. She shook her head, a hot tear coursing down her face as she realized it had all come tumbling down around her.

  There would be no forgiveness.

  Simon looked from his brother to her, a panic filling his eyes. “What happened?” He burrowed into Adam’s side, pressing his face to his brother’s jacket.

  “We need to go.” Adam placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder and gave a slight squeeze.

  Simon lifted his head, as if to check that the tempest had cleared. “Okay.” He reached across the table and took Remy’s hand. “Come on, Remy. Time to go.”

  “Not her.”

  Simon’s face puckered.

  “She’s staying here.” Adam took his brother’s hand and tugged him away from the table. “She is never to come round our home again. She will not be invited inside, and you are forbidden to speak her name.”

  A startled gasp peeled from Remy’s throat, and she pressed a hand to her face in an attempt to hold it all together. He was treating her like someone who had turned away from the faith! How could he cut her off so quickly?

  Simon’s small hands clenched the hem of Adam’s jacket. “But Adam, I don’t understand. You said you and Remy are going to marry.”

  “No more.” Adam turned away, his broad-shouldered silhouette ominous against the light from the kitchen’s broad windows.

  Simon took one look at his brother, pivoted, and flew into Remy’s arms. Her heart filled with gladness as she dropped to her knees to hug him.

  “I don’t understand,” he mumbled against her neck. “What happened, Remy?”

  It all slipped away. One lie, one flaw, and the bottom fell out from under her.

  “Kumm! Now!” Adam’s gruff voice caused Simon to flinch in her arms.

  “You’d better do as he says,” she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, preferring not to see as Simon was pulled from her arms. If only she could shut her ears to avoid the muffled whimpers that tore at her as he was shuffled away.

  PART THREE

  No Place Like Home

  To everything there is a season,

  And a time to every purpose under the heaven:

  A time to be born, a time to die;

  A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

  A time to kill and a time to heal;

  A time to break down and a time to build up …

  —ECCLESIASTES 3:1–3

  FORTY-THREE

  he workshop door creaked as Simon pushed it open and held the lantern high. “I think you’re going to like it,” the boy said confidently as he lifted the lantern into the shadows.

  The birdhouse that sat on the center of the workbench was a thing of beauty, not for its design or craftsmanship, but for the tender care that had gone into its construction. At nearly three feet tall, the structure had many peaks on the roof, dozens of holes for birds to enter and a wide opening at its center.

  For the first time since that terrible moment when he’d turned his back on Remy, Adam smiled.

  The idea was born when Adam sat the family down to tell them that the man who killed their parents had been taken to jail. At first, everyone had been quiet. No one would dare celebrate the punishment of another man, even one who had committed a terrible sin.

  Finally, Jonah had sighed. “I feel bad for Chris,” he said. “And I forgive him.”

  “We must all forgive Chris Mueller and help his mamm in any way we can,” Sadie said firmly.

  They talked for thirty minutes about ways to help Gina Mueller. Mary would make a casserole. Sadie would offer to clean her house. Jonah would see if there were any things to be repaired at the Mueller place. Ruthie thought Gina might want to go for a walk when the snow cleared, since she’d had surgery a few months ago.

  Watching them, Adam felt warmed by their goodness, the goodness of God shining in his brothers and sisters. It was a glimmer of hope he sorely needed with his body and mind sick over Remy. Losing her was like losing a family member, and reminders of her were everywhere. It stole his appetite to look at the place where she used to sit at the table. He kept thinking he heard her voice in the barn. At times his eyes searched the white horizon for a sight of her on a horse.

  Physically, he felt like one of the cows had kicked him in the belly. Seeing his siblings begin to heal had eased that pain, just a bit. “God willing, this will help us all heal and move on,” Adam had told the family that day during their special talk.

  “But remember how much Dat liked the birds?” Simon had piped up suddenly.

  Adam kept quiet, letting his brother talk.

  “We do.” Leah patted his hand. “That’s why I share my field glasses with you. Whenever I see a new bird and log it in my notebook, I think of Dat.”

  “We should do something for the birds,” Simon said thoughtfully. “I think Dat would have wanted that.”

  “I’ve noticed lots of hungry birds pecking in the snow,” Mary had said. “Seems they can’t get to their seeds. No matter how many crumbs I toss at them, the food disappears in minutes. I say we build a birdhouse.”

  And from that meeting, the King family gift to the birds was born.

  Everyone had to help; Simon insisted on it.

  Simon worked with Adam on the design. He wanted points and peaks on the roof so that squirrels wouldn’t sit up there. He also asked for small holes leading to small cubbies, so there’d be a place for small birds like sparrows to get away from bossy jays.

  Ruthie and Susie were in charge of painting and allowed Katie and Sam to fill in some spots. Jonah and Gabe planted the post that the house would sit on. Leah picked out popular birdseed—black sunflower seeds that the birds found delicious. Adam was the master builder. Sadie and Mary glued on shingles.

  Now Simon set the lantern down on the workbench and touched a panel on the small house. “It’s dry, all ready to mount. Susie painted the top blue to match the sky, and Ruthie painted her part yellow for the sun. What do you think?” Simon asked. “It’s a fine birdhouse, ya?”

  Adam tousled Simon’s hair. “I think it’s a wonderful good home for some happy birds,” Adam said.

  It would not be the first birdhouse on the farm, but it was certainly the first one everyone had contributed to.

  The next day, when the family gathered together in the north field to mount the birdhouse, the mood was light. Sun sparkled on the hills of melting snow. Katie and Sam kept reaching up on the fat post to swing their legs, while Leah gave out handfuls of seed so that everyone could help fill the house. Lifting the house from a cart, Gabe joked that he’d birthed calves that weighed less.

  As Jonah and Gabe set the birdhouse onto its post, Adam saw the design of Simon’s plan. This was a memorial that they had all contributed to.

  Honor thy father, the commandment said.

  This was a way to honor Dat. A way for all of Levi and Esther’s children to say good-bye.

  “Adam?” Susie’s brows rose as she passed the scrapple. “Don’t get mad at me. But I miss Remy. There! I said her name.”

  Oh, why do you want to go and do that? Adam stared down at the table, his appetite ruined.

/>   “That’s against the rules,” Simon said. “You’re not allowed to say her name.”

  Susie scowled at Simon over her water glass. “I never heard that rule.”

  “I miss her, too.” Mary stabbed at her hash browns with a fork, her head cocked to one side. “It was nice to have someone my age to talk to.”

  “And she was a wonderful help around the house,” Sadie said.

  Gabe’s cheek twitched, the beginning of a grin. “Not so much in the barn.”

  “She tried her best, and she didn’t mind the dirty work,” Sadie defended.

  “She was learning how to care for the horses.” Remembering, Simon held his biscuit aloft. “I think she understands how they think.”

  Simon had come so far in the past few months, and they had Remy to thank for a good part of that. All the wonderful things she had done for his family made it that much harder for Adam to free his mind of her.

  “Did you ever notice the little lights in her eyes?” Ruthie waggled her fingers near her face. “That’s how I always think of her. With a light around her, like a halo. Do you think God sent us an angel?”

  “No.” The thunderous force of his voice surprised even Adam.

  Ten faces whipped toward him.

  “She’s no angel.” He mustered all his strength to keep the dark anger in check. “Remy lied to us, remember? And she used that lie to insinuate her way into this family.”

  “I think it wasn’t so much a lie as a misunderstanding.” Sadie kept her eyes on his, her hands on her lap. “I mean, she never said she wasn’t a reporter. And she gave up on the article once she got to know us, right?”

  “She lied.” Adam would have argued more, but he didn’t want to get into it with Sadie. Defiant, spirited Sadie … her know-it-all attitude of youth was getting more and more irritating each day.

  “Remy lied, and that’s a sin. But no one is perfect.” Jonah’s dark eyes held Adam’s gaze as eating ceased, except for Katie chewing on softened apples.

  Adam swallowed back the fire in his throat. “I’m trying to protect this family.”

  “I know that, brother. But where is the forgiveness? When Chris Mueller was sent to jail, we brought pies and casseroles to Gina. Everyone in the community prayed to God for forgiveness, and we forgave Chris Mueller. God says we must.”

  “Of course.” Adam nodded.

  “Forgiveness comes from God. It’s not up to us to decide who is worthy.” Jonah paused, looking down at his plate, then back up at Adam. “Doesn’t God’s forgiveness apply to Remy, too?”

  Jonah’s words cut him to the marrow.

  Adam shot up from the table, knocking over the jar of apple butter. Mary caught the jar and righted it as he turned and fled to the cooler air of the porch.

  Forgive me.…

  Remy had begged him, but he didn’t know how to do it. He had searched the depths of his soul and found no forgiveness there. Only a sizzling anger, a poisonous mix of guilt and fury and heartbreak.

  He strode toward the barn, a mixture of melting snow and mud sloshing under his boots.

  Jonah’s point made sense. His brother was right, of course.

  But love defied logic and explanation. To have fallen in love with a woman for this first and only time, and then learn that she was a spy who had come to prey on his most vulnerable family members.…

  “She tried to stab us in the back,” he muttered to his horse as he tightened the saddle.

  How could he explain to his family that Remy wasn’t the woman they thought she was? She was not the Rebekah of the Bible, the woman Adam thought God meant for him to take for his wife.

  “I was wrong about her.” He swung onto his horse and urged him down the lane.

  Remy was not the answer to his prayers. It was time to man up, take the advice of the wisest men he knew. A gust of wind hit him, and he pressed his hat tighter and rode into the sunrise.

  While Preacher Dave waited on a customer in the front of the buggy shop, Adam continued sanding the slab of wood that would become a buggy dashboard.

  A good sanding required the whole body, head to toe—and while it could be exhausting, Adam liked to think that the process brought the wood to its finest luster, the way God intended.

  He was putting his back into the work, brushing the sanding block in the direction of the grain with long, even strokes, when Dave Zook returned. “Let’s see the fine job you’ve done.” He inspected the wood, his palm following the grain. “Very nice. I forgot you were a carpenter. Sorry to be called away, but now we have a moment to talk. What brings you here?”

  Adam dusted his hands, the words sticking in his throat. “I came to announce my intention to marry Annie.”

  Dave blinked. “Annie Stoltzfus?”

  “Right.”

  “That’s wonderful news. I’m sure Annie and her family are very pleased.”

  Adam shifted. “Actually, they don’t know yet. I just decided … well, I knew it was time to take your advice about getting married.”

  “Oh.”

  “Annie’s good with children. I know she’ll be a responsible mother to Katie and Sam, and once they get to know her better she’ll be helpful with Simon and Ruthie, too.”

  “The little ones do need a mamm, but I’ve never had someone come to me about getting married this way. You sound like you’re bartering for a heifer.”

  “I’m trying to be practical.” Adam linked his thumbs through his suspenders. “Just trying to do right by my family, Dave. Trying to do right by God.”

  “Do you love Annie?”

  “I …” Adam was going to say that he loved every living thing on God’s earth, but he didn’t think Dave would buy that line of logic. “Honestly? I love her like a sister, but that can change, can’t it?”

  Dave rubbed his forehead. “Anything can change, but that’s not why you’ve come to me. What is this really about, Adam?”

  Adam turned away and meandered toward a platform where the fiberglass frame of a buggy sat. “My brother says I’ve got to find forgiveness for … for someone.”

  “Ahh. That’s another story. Who is it that needs to be forgiven?”

  “It seems I’ve got a long list.”

  “Been saving up awhile, have you?”

  Shame burned as Adam dropped his eyes to the workshop floor. “Although I’ve gone through the motions with Gina Mueller, I still boil inside when I think that her son killed my parents over some moneymaking scheme Dat didn’t allow. I’m angry with myself for not coming home years ago and letting my parents know they’d done the right thing, raising me for the Plain life. And I can’t forgive Remy McCallister. She’s the Englisher girl who—”

  “Ya, I saw her big white car. Turns out she was a reporter, ya?”

  Adam frowned. Word traveled in the community. “Ya.”

  “I see. You do have a lot of anger on your plate.” Dave stroked his beard as he let out a breath. “I know you’ve heard talk of Gelassenheit, one of the foundations of Amish life.”

  “It’s the opposite of hochmut, right? Instead of pride, we strive for humility.”

  “Sort of. But gelassenheit is so much more. It’s tranquility and grace. Acceptance. Letting go. It’s the union of our inner spirit with our outward actions.”

  Adam rubbed his chin. “Okay. So … you’re saying I need to let go?”

  “Sometimes, you have to put forgiveness into action, and the feelings inside will follow later. Take action, do the right thing, and if your heart is open, the Heavenly Father will find His way in. The way you brought food and support to Gina Mueller. Maybe that day you were still hurt, still reeling from grief, but through your actions you moved toward forgiveness. That’s a good thing. The action demonstrated forgiveness.”

  In his mind, Adam saw the line of gray carriages headed down the lane toward the Mueller home the night Chris was arrested. The group of Amish visitors brought food and comfort to Gina Mueller, aware that she, too, was suffering in the wake of h
er son’s violent act. Ya, it had been a step toward forgiveness, though some bitterness stuck to him, like pine sap in the grooves of the hand.

  “Am I confusing you?” Dave asked.

  “No, I see the point.” He hadn’t thought about gelassenheit for years, but now he remembered how, when he was a boy, the preachers warned that you could not earn gelassenheit. Instead, you had to catch it. Adam had always loved the image of catching gelassenheit as if it were a flying fish.

  “But what about marrying Annie?” Adam asked as Dave returned to his sanding. The groom needed a letter of good standing from his church leaders called a Zeugnis.

  “I think you had better talk with her first. If you two want to marry, I have no objections to that. You’ll get your zeugnis.”

  As Adam left Dave Zook’s shop, he told himself he was doing the right thing. This would be good for the children. It would make Annie happy, and he would be following the instructions of the church leaders.

  It’s the right thing to do, he kept telling himself as he slowed Thunder to a trot through the town of Halfway … where every Englisher woman he passed looked like Remy.

  On Saturday, the traditional courtship night, Adam stood on the mushy grass outside Annie’s house, shining a flashlight up to her second-story window.

  Wind nipped at the bottom of his jacket as Annie appeared in the window and waved him toward the door.

  He was far too old for this. Courtship at his age was ridiculous.

  Annie met him at the door, her smile bright as she invited him in.

  “I’m so surprised to see you!” she said, though he knew she had been expecting him. Mary had spread the word that he would be coming over.

  “Mary sends her best,” he said.

  Annie pressed her hands to her chest. “She has always been a dear friend. You’re lucky to be blessed with such a wonderful sister. Have a seat and I’ll cut you some pie as soon as it finishes cooling. I just baked it this evening.”

  The first half hour was excruciating, with Annie prattling on about who she saw at the singing last week and whether the snow-melt would cause flooding and how the secret to a good sweet potato pie was the cinnamon.