An Uncommon Grace

by Serena B. Miller

  The neonatal nurse was also listening and watching. She elbowed Grace and nodded meaningfully at the heart monitor.

  Grace’s eyes widened at what she saw. The heart rate, which had been erratic when they entered the room, had become regular and steady.

  She looked at the nurse questioningly.

  “I’ve seen this before,” the nurse whispered. “Sometimes the sound of a father or mother’s voice can make a huge difference in a newborn’s response.”

  “Levi is the child’s older brother, not his father.”

  The nurse gave Levi an appraising look as he continued to sing the strange-sounding song. “Then that is one lucky baby.”

  “Are you hungry, Levi?” Grace asked. “I’m going down to the cafeteria. I’ll bring you back something—or you can come with me if you want.”

  He sat on a stool the nurse had brought in for him. Daniel seemed to be resting more comfortably now. Levi had stopped singing, but his throat was dry. The nurse had pointed out the lines to him on the monitor that showed the baby’s heartbeat. For now it was beating steadily, but he would watch it closely.

  “I’m thirsty,” he said. “But I do not want to leave.”

  “I’ll bring you something,” Grace offered. “What do you want? Coke? Sprite? Coffee?”

  “Water.”

  “Just water?”

  “Yes.”

  “No food?”

  “No.”

  Her face registered disappointment as she walked away. This puzzled him. He was trying to be as little trouble to her as possible. It was bad enough that she had been forced to drive him here. It was one thing to depend upon fellow Amish. It was an entirely different thing to have to rely upon an Englisch woman—and a virtual stranger at that.

  He liked what he saw as she walked away—perhaps a little too much.

  He reminded himself that it was a shameful thing for a woman to dress so immodestly, but he knew in her world she was dressed more modestly than many of the women he had seen around town, especially the young tourists who came in the summer.

  He still didn’t like her short hair. Privately, he did not agree with the Swartzentruber expectations that a woman never cut her hair. His mother’s long hair caused her many headaches, and the washing and drying of it was an ordeal for her, but he did think that a woman should wear her hair longer than Grace did.

  He tore his eyes away from her and gazed down at his baby brother. This was whom he had come for. This was who was important. His family. Not the Englisch woman who had come so quickly and efficiently to their aid.

  As he held the tiny fingers that he believed would someday do so many good and productive things, he hoped that coming here with her today would not bring more trouble down upon his head. Spending time in the company of a young Englisch woman could earn him a tongue-lashing from Bishop Weaver.

  The question Grace had asked on the drive here still haunted him. Were he and his stepfather “close”?

  He still did not know how to answer that question. Abraham had taken pains to teach him how to work, which was a valuable thing to give a boy. Sometimes his stepfather’s methods had been what many would consider brutal. However, solely because of Abraham, Levi possessed the knowledge, skills, and discipline a man needed to work a farm and support a family.

  For these things he would be eternally grateful, but the fact remained, Abraham had been a harsh disciplinarian, and a difficult man to please.

  Still, they had spent all day every day working together, eating meals together, living beneath the same roof together, worshipping together for many years. He had spent the biggest part of his life in his stepfather’s presence. The vacuum Abraham’s death would leave in all of their lives would be huge.

  But were they close?

  He did not think so. At least not in the mushy, Englisch way that Grace had meant.

  Levi could hardly believe all that had happened in the past few hours. He had discovered Daed’s body, ridden to get help for his mother, made arrangements for his brothers’ and sister’s care, made his first trip to the city of Columbus—so many tall buildings!—and had to answer too many questions from a sheriff’s deputy.

  Answering the deputy’s questions had made him extremely nervous. His people tried hard to avoid law officials. Allowing Englisch deputies to poke their noses into their business was a worrisome thing.

  Except that now, he had no choice. The Englisch law had to get involved. They had even taken his stepfather’s body away for an autopsy. He did not understand the need, but the deputy had patiently explained that it was a legal necessity in cases of murder.

  The deputy had spoken to him slowly, as though to a child, enunciating carefully, evidently thinking him dense in the head. There were those who acted like that around his people, but it was a sign of ignorance on their part. Just because his people were Swartzentruber did not mean they were dummkopfs.

  It occurred to him that Grace had not done that. She had spoken to him as naturally as though he were just another Englisch person. That was rare and he wondered at it.

  Which reminded him—he would have to remember to pay her for the car trip. At fifty cents a mile, which was the going rate for hiring an Englisch driver, he would owe her a little under forty dollars one way. Even though he had no intention of leaving Daniel and riding back home with her today, he would pay her for the return trip as well. He still had five twenty-dollar bills on him from a delivery of several specialty baskets he had made last week. Giving her eighty would leave him with only twenty dollars in his pocket, but he did not need a lot of money to sit beside his brother.

  His mind fastened on the many chores he had waiting on him back home. Hopefully by now, word would have spread, and his Amish brethren would be taking care of everything.

  Once they knew his family was in trouble, they would find the time to care for his farm and livestock, along with their own heavy labors, and it would continue—without question—until he could leave Daniel’s side and his family could get back on their feet. That was the Amish way. No one was ever left alone during times of crisis. From boyhood on, he had helped with others’ chores during family emergencies. It was one of the many things he valued about his people.

  “Here.” Grace handed him a chilled bottle of water. He had expected her to bring him a paper cup of water instead of this blue bottle that she had obviously paid for. He wondered how much this fancy water had cost. This worried him. He hoped that the extra amount he planned on paying her for the trip would cover the cost.

  “You’re back quickly.” He unscrewed the lid and took a long drink. It was delicious, much cleaner tasting than the water they drew from their well back home. “You didn’t eat?”

  “There was nothing there I wanted.”

  Daniel stirred and Levi glanced at the heart monitor. The baby’s heartbeat continued strong. Levi relaxed slightly and allowed himself to look more closely at Grace’s face. Dark circles were forming beneath her eyes. She looked weary. Today had been hard on her. He had not realized.

  “You should go home now.” He dug out his wallet. “Will eighty dollars be enough?”

  She looked perplexed. “Enough for what?”

  “Enough to cover the miles you drove—and the water you bought.”

  “What are you talking about, Levi?”

  “Englisch drivers charge fifty cents a mile,” he patiently explained. “I watched the numbers as they changed beneath your steering wheel. We traveled seventy-five miles to get here.”

  He extracted the four twenties and tried to hand them to her, but Grace backed away and looked at him with a hurt expression on her face.

  “I’m not taking money from you.”

  Again, he was puzzled. She had provided a service that an honest man should pay for. It was a business transaction.

  “I owe you eighty dollars.” He again tried to hand the money to her.

  “I’m your neighbor, for pity’s sake!” She put her hands behind he
r back and shook her head. “I wasn’t doing this to be paid. I did it because you needed help.”

  He saw the determination in her eyes and knew that this was a fight he would not win. At least not now. For whatever reason, this Englisch woman was determined to give him this trip as a gift.

  Daniel stirred again, as though bothered by the loudness of their voices. Levi glanced at the monitor, and his own heart lurched. The baby’s heartbeat was becoming irregular again.

  Grace saw it at the same time he did. “I’ll be outside in the waiting room.”

  “But you are tired. You should go home.”

  “Yes, I’m tired.” She was already heading out the door. “But for now, I think I’d better stick around. I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” She glanced meaningfully at the monitor. “And you’d better hurry up and start singing that weird song again.”

  Weird song? The Loblied was not weird! He had sung this song from the Ausbund hymnal while sitting on his grandfather’s lap during worship Sundays. He had sung the words at group singings as a teenager. This song with which he had been encouraging his little brother had been written by a Mennonite minister over four hundred years ago—and it was a good song.

  What did she expect him to sing under such circumstances? One of those silly songs with repetitious words like he had heard coming from some of the Englisch church buildings he had passed on Sunday mornings? He wondered how they managed to hear themselves think—let alone worship—over the din of guitars and drums.

  In his opinion, it was much better to worship in a freshly cleaned barn, or a friend’s home, or a neighbor’s workshop while joining with his spiritual brothers and sisters in lifting up the ancient words of their church.

  The song he had sung to his little brother was not weird.

  Grace was surprised to see Rose walk into the waiting room. She had removed the kerchief from her hair and donned a black bonnet along with a fresh dress that was a lovely sky blue.

  Grace put down the ragged Better Homes and Gardens magazine she had been trying to read and stood to greet her.

  “Hello, Rose,” Grace said. “Levi is with—”

  “How is the baby?” Rose interrupted.

  “Stronger.”

  “Thank Gott.” Rose’s shoulders slumped in relief. “You say Levi is with him?”

  “He hasn’t left Daniel’s side since we got here,” Grace said. “Are the children here, too?”

  “My married daughter is at my home caring for them. They will be fine with her.”

  “Have you spoken with Claire?”

  “For the first time in ten years, yes—I have been to the hospital and talked with my twin sister.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking . . .”

  Rose put up a hand to forestall her question. “I know this must seem strange to you, so I will explain as quickly as I can. I was raised Swartzentruber Amish the same as my sister. When my husband and I chose to join with the Old Order Amish, we were banned from fellowship with anyone in our Swartzentruber church—even those who were our blood kin.” Rose smiled ruefully. “In my world I am considered the black sheep of the family.”

  It was hard for Grace to imagine this lovely, modestly dressed Amish woman being the black sheep of anything.

  “Then why is the rule suspended now?”

  “It isn’t. But in times of family emergency, leaders will sometimes relax the rules for a very short while until the crisis lessens. I intend to help my sister and her family as much as possible until Bishop Weaver insists that I leave.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the Amish.”

  “That’s one of the nice things about being Englisch, don’t you think?” Rose smiled. “You don’t have to.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I’m going to stay with Daniel now.” Rose was suddenly all business. “Levi should go home. My Englisch driver is waiting to take him. You must go, too. I will handle this now.”

  “I can take Levi home,” Grace offered. “I’m headed home anyway.”

  “No.” Rose cocked her head to one side and gave her an appraising look. “I think it would be best if you did not.”

  “They are the strangest people,” Grace said later to her grandmother as she set out her evening pills and helped her prepare for the night.

  “Not when you truly know them.”

  “You’ve mentioned the Shetler family in the past, but I don’t remember ever meeting them when I would visit you.” She helped her grandmother climb into bed and then pulled the handmade quilt over her.

  “Claire respected our time together and never came when any of my family was here. I deeply value the Shetlers’ friendship. They have been good neighbors to me.”

  “In what ways?”

  “Claire gave me this quilt one year.” Her grandmother smoothed her hand over the dark-colored fabric. “Do you have any idea how much a hand-quilted Swartzentruber quilt is worth? This one is so intricately stitched it would probably sell for over a thousand dollars. It took her one whole winter.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I should probably have it framed and put behind glass like they do in museums, but it makes me feel good to sleep beneath such a loving gift. Down through the years, they have tended to their own business while I tended to mine, but I always knew that if I needed them, they would come. So many times Claire has appeared when I was feeling poorly, carrying soup or a batch of herb tea. Often her concoctions helped. And then there was Levi.”

  “What about Levi?”

  “He was the loveliest little boy.” Elizabeth frowned. “Don’t you remember me ever talking about him?”

  “Vaguely, but you’ve talked about a lot of people down through the years, including a whole bunch of long-dead relatives and most of your students. After a while everyone kind of blended together in my head.”

  “Have I been that tedious?”

  “Not at all.” Grace laughed. “You’re the only person I know who can walk into a grocery store and come out an hour later with no milk and no groceries, but worried sick about a new best friend you had just made.”

  “The deli-counter woman was going through a nasty divorce and I was concerned,” Elizabeth said. “They patched things back together, you know. She still calls me from time to time to let me know how things are going.”

  Grace grinned. “What about the man you met on the airplane with whom you still exchange Christmas cards?”

  Her grandmother sniffed. “He was a lovely young musician and we enjoyed our two-hour talk tremendously.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have down through the years. Tell me about Levi. This time I’ll listen. I promise.”

  “He reminded me of your father when he was a child. So curious and smart. I had an illustrated book on birds and we would sit together on my porch for hours studying it together and matching the pictures with the birds we saw around the farm. Of course that ended as he grew up and took on a man’s share of chores around the farm, but he still comes when he notices something that needs to be done around here. I never have to ask.”

  Elizabeth gave a little sigh. “I always thought it was a shame that Levi was not allowed more than an eighth-grade education. There was a real brilliance in him. He could have been anything he wanted. Of course, it takes a very smart man to make a living on a small farm, and he seems content.”

  Elizabeth yawned.

  “You’re tired.” Grace kissed her forehead. “Call out if you need me. I’ll be on the couch.”

  “Oh, honey,” Elizabeth said, “I don’t want you having to sleep there. I’ll be fine tonight. Go on up to your bedroom, child.”

  “I’m not comfortable being so far away from you,” Grace said. “I hated leaving you alone this morning.”

  “I was fine,” her grandmother protested. “Becky came home for lunch and when she saw I was alone, she stayed. Oh, I forgot to tell you, I had some company.”

/>   “Who?” Grace positioned a glass of water so it would be easier for her grandmother to reach.

  “One of the sheriff’s deputies came by.”

  “Did he have any news?”

  “No, but he asked if I had seen or heard anything suspicious.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told him that if I knew anything about Abraham’s death, I would not have waited around for a deputy to come to my house. I would have called the sheriff’s office immediately.”

  “Did he tell you if they had any suspects?”

  “They don’t, but he assured me they wouldn’t give up until they found out who did it.”

  “I hope they find whoever did it soon.”

  Elizabeth yawned again. “Me, too.”

  Grace turned out the light, left her grandmother’s door ajar, and then walked around the house making certain every door and window was locked. Not that it would really make any difference. A determined man could easily break into this farmhouse—but not without making noise. The doors were sturdy and the windows had the old-fashioned frames that would be nearly impossible to open without breaking both wood and glass.

  She shook out an afghan and got as comfortable as possible on the living room couch. She was grateful that her grandmother’s bedroom was downstairs, opening directly off the living room. With Elizabeth unable to climb stairs, it was so much easier to care for her here on the main floor.

  As she waited for sleep, she tried to picture the little boy Grandma had described. It was hard to imagine the taciturn, work-hardened Levi ever having been that child.

  And yet, her grandmother had been a principal for an inner-city elementary school in Columbus for thirty-five years. If Grandma said a child was brilliant, he was.

  The couch was lumpy, and the unaccustomed quiet of the country was unnerving. Sometimes in Afghanistan, quiet could be deceiving. Sometimes it was merely a precursor to an attack. Try as she might, Grace couldn’t seem to stop being on constant alert for the next missile whistling overhead—readying herself for the next run for the nearest bunker. Even though Bagram was huge and well secured, the Taliban loved making her and the rest of the personnel jump, and sometimes the terrorists just plain got lucky.