Jodi Winfield pulled her shoulder-length hair into a loose twist and reclined as she situated her laptop for her upcoming Skype session with her fiancé, Trent Norton. Lounging indoors against peony-red pillows on this sultry July evening was the best way to avoid the miserable heat. It was her first time house- and cat-sitting at her cousin’s modest country home in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Certainly, the place was a step up from Jodi’s tidy apartment in Arlington, Vermont, where she shared two walls with other renters.
Plenty of time to regroup before school starts!
She recalled the text message a teacher friend had sent yesterday, just as Jodi arrived. Are you up for teaching a third-fourth grade combo next fall? Jodi had winced at the thought. It was not her ideal setup, but she was willing to do whatever it took to get tenure.
Reaching for a tall glass of lemonade, she relished the pleasant surroundings. Scattered about were silver-framed wedding pictures of her first cousin—policeman Scott Winfield—and Paige, his winsome blond bride of two years. There were candlesticks in graduated sizes placed on the barn-wood coffee table. A large framed pastoral print graced the entryway. Cozy was the best word to describe Scott and Paige’s bright, homey place . . . Jodi’s home away from home for the next two weeks.
The room overlooked a fruitful landscape to the south, where lush fields and a picturesque barn with two silos stood in the distance. The unique setting and comfortable furnishings made it impossible to refuse the couple’s request to spend some time here.
Eyeing the clock, Jodi awaited the specified time to contact Trent. She curled her toes, attempting to relax, but it was impossible to dismiss the trauma of the past six months. At one time, she and Trent had been knit together by their faith. Now it was all Jodi could do to whisper an occasional prayer—not that it mattered. As it turned out, God didn’t hear them, anyway.
And now there were Trent’s recent remarks to contemplate. Just two days ago, Trent had stopped by her apartment to say good-bye while she was packing. He’d mentioned their mutual friends’ new baby boy. “Such a handsome little guy.” Trent had sounded almost wistful. “Sometimes I find it hard to believe we’ll never have one of our own, hon.”
She hadn’t known what to say. Sure, she loved kids—other people’s children, particularly in a classroom setting. But after a long day in the trenches, it was great to return to a peaceful home.
Thankfully, Trent had moved on to another topic, but Jodi had remained rattled. She hoped she’d concealed her concern, especially since it was to be their last visit before Trent left for Japan in less than two weeks.
As for herself, Jodi wasn’t up for revisiting the idea of having children someday. Not with her only sister’s passing still so fresh. Jodi’s life had flown into a tailspin from which she had yet to recover. Some days, if it hadn’t been for Trent’s encouragement and support, she felt she might not have survived losing Karen.
Jodi recalled her fiancé’s look of exuberance when he’d talked of the infant. Trent’s soft green eyes—nearly blue—twinkled at her, though not in jest.
So was he having second thoughts?
Presently, she signed into her Skype account. Don’t complicate things further, she decided. As it was, Trent had to have noticed her frustration with God these past months, although she couldn’t tell by his demeanor—he was the same patient Trent as always. Eventually, she would have to come clean about that matter, as well. Right now, she never wanted to set foot in church again.
———
When Trent’s handsome face came into view, Jodi thrilled to see him. She couldn’t help smiling.
“Hey, pretty lady. You look cute with your hair up.”
“Thanks. Trying to keep cool.”
“So how are you?” His light brown hair was combed neatly, and his five-o’clock shadow was beginning to appear. Trent’s grin and confident voice nearly dispelled her earlier concern.
“Livin’ the good life,” she admitted. “Attempting, anyway.”
“Well, I miss you, too.” He chuckled.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You sound tired.”
“Just a little.”
He tilted his head. “You sure?”
She was tempted to say nothing, but that wasn’t fair. “Just deep in thought, I guess.”
“Missing Karen?”
“Some, yeah.” She mentioned having talked recently with Karen’s husband, Devin, and hearing the pain in his voice. “He’s really struggling . . . as we all are.”
“Well, once school starts you’ll be very busy again,” Trent suggested kindly, “which might be helpful.”
Nothing helps, Jodi thought, recalling how difficult it had been going to school and teaching all day, weighed down by wrenching sorrow.
Trent continued talking, referring fondly to his own teacher friends in Bennington, Vermont, where he’d already acquired tenure as a fifth-grade teacher, though he’d taken a one-year leave for the upcoming job overseas. The decision had thrown her for a loop, although technically, they’d made it together.
Trent was fired up to teach English as a second language in the Japan Exchange and Teaching Programme, also known as JET. The plan was to make some extra money to set aside for their honeymoon next summer. And, too, Trent had always wanted to do something “to spread some cultural love around,” as he liked to say. More recently, it was also tied to spreading “the Good News.”
Deep down, Jodi was secretly crushed. But she’d pulled herself together, refusing to stand in the way of his dreams, even if it meant they had to wait another year to marry.
Presently the conversation lulled, and Jodi mentioned her cousin’s delightful home and their beautiful white cat with gray-blue eyes. “Oh, and you should see the stocked fridge—enough for the whole block. Scott and Paige have spoiled me.”
“You deserve it.” He grinned. “Be sure to invite them to the wedding.”
“Don’t worry.” She paused, wondering how to proceed. “And Trent . . . uh, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day . . . before I left.”
He smiled knowingly. “About kids, right?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
“You didn’t,” she lied. “I mean, I guess I should ask you . . . are you having second thoughts?”
“Jodi, I want you to be happy.”
“I know, but—”
“Honestly, this is the kind of thing we should have taken more time to discuss.”
She fell silent. So there was something more to talk about.
“In the meantime,” Trent continued, “we’ll trust God for the future.”
She cringed, saying nothing, but felt dishonest in her silence.
“You okay, Jodi?”
She couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. Trent’s faith was rock solid. She held her breath and forged ahead. “It’s just that I’ve been struggling . . . a lot.”
“Go easy on yourself, Jodi. You’re plowing through deep waters.”
She took a breath.
“Remember, I’m praying for you,” he said, but it sounded patronizing, and Jodi wanted to reply that prayer certainly hadn’t helped Karen, her older and wiser sister. And dearest friend.
Jodi twisted the thin twenty-four-carat gold bracelet Karen had given her before she died. It was a keepsake present her sister had purchased with her first paycheck, fresh out of grad school.
Jodi willed away her tears. “Oh, before I forget, I received an email from George Stringer, my principal. He plans to call me later this week. I guess the district’s in a financial crunch.”
“Like most school districts in the States.”
“Still, teaching two grade levels might present a challenge.”
“You’re an amazing teacher, hon. You might love it. I’ve seen you in action, remember?”
Jodi smiled, feeling more optimistic. “Speaking of action, I’ve been logging a bunch of miles here.” She honed
in on her training for the half marathon in Boston in October. “Sometimes I wish I could run with a group or an instructor.”
“Well, you ran with me for a while.” He winked, winning her heart all over again. “Just remember to warm up and don’t push it—it’s easy to overtrain, you know.”
“Tell me about it.”
He reminded her to take the supplements her doctor had recommended and to eat plenty of fruits and vegetables. “But keeping hydrated is key.”
“That’s not hard here.”
“Exactly.” He chuckled. “You’re breathing water, right?”
They said their usual I-love-yous and good-byes. And Jodi was relieved they’d avoided more talk of babies—and prayer.
A lot can change in a year, she reassured herself.
Chapter 3
Jodi chopped a few tomatoes and sliced a cucumber into a bowl of baby greens and spinach leaves, then tossed the salad, looking forward to a late supper. Gigi, the fluffy white cat, meowed up at her, begging. Smiling as she remembered what Paige had warned about the fastidious animal, she checked the food dish and saw that it was still full.
“So you want fresh food, is that it?”
Gigi meowed again.
“Um, you’re not spoiled at all, are you?” She chuckled, thinking she’d like to have a cat of her own to keep her company while Trent was gone.
Gigi rubbed up against her ankles, going in circles between her feet.
That’s when Jodi noticed the loaf of homemade bread on the far end of the kitchen counter, with a note: Delish! From a local Amish stand. Enjoy! ~Scott and Paige.
Unable to resist, Jodi decided to have a piece with her light supper. But only one. She wondered about the person running the roadside stand, having never actually met anyone Amish. A copy of the June issue of The Mirror, the newsletter published by the Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society, was lying on the counter nearby. Circled in red was a blurb about a discussion and tour featuring Amish businesses without electricity. Jodi was curious how that was even possible and read further about four summer field trips offered by the local historical society, guessing Scott and Paige were members.
Breathing in the homey smell of the bread, Jodi recalled that the couple had referred to the “Plain” people quite frequently since moving here from the outskirts of Chicago. Jodi had also noticed a number of Amish novels in the corner of the downstairs family room, which additionally included a collection of old Dickens books that Paige had acquired at a rummage sale. And as a trusted policeman, Scott had mentioned interacting with nearby Amish during the course of his job, including at the annual Gordonville Fire Company Fall Mud Sale and Auction, where he often helped with parking and checking in vanloads of Amish from other states. From their many chats, there was no doubt in Jodi’s mind that Scott and Paige were Amish aficionados.
Jodi hadn’t the faintest idea what their attraction was to the horse-and-buggy crowd. What’s the big deal, anyway? She turned and spotted Gigi standing by the food dish, just staring down at it. Jodi laughed and shook her head. “You’re missing Mommy and Daddy, eh?”
She crouched to stroke Gigi, who purred into Jodi’s open hand. I miss someone, too, she thought. Her big sister’s memory was planted firmly in the middle of Jodi’s heart. Even though she was six years older, Karen had always understood what made Jodi tick. Like no other . . . not even Trent. Her constant confidante and close friend, Karen had promised to always be there, though in the end, through no fault of her own, she couldn’t keep the promise.
Gigi stepped away and looked back at her. She tilted her fluffy little head.
“Give me a chance, okay? You’ll like me soon enough.” With that, Jodi washed her hands and set the table for one.
She wondered what Trent really thought of her struggles. What if I can’t recover spiritually? Will he still want me?
The answer seemed obvious. Why would a wonderful guy like Trent want to marry a faithless basket case like me? Jodi thought as she picked at her food. Poor guy needs a good wife . . . someone normal who trusts God, wants kids, and doesn’t cry on cue.
Jodi blew out a breath, dabbed at her eyes, and began to eat. Enough of this, she thought.
When she finished eating, she cleaned up the few dishes and relaxed for an hour or so. She was eager to get out and jog first thing tomorrow, to explore the unfamiliar Pennsylvania back roads. She enjoyed losing herself in the effort of putting one foot in front of the other, her ever-attendant companions—despair and regret—slipping away with each stride. At this stage of her life, running beat prayer any day. It was Jodi’s only dedication now, her sacrificial altar.
Maryanna strained to remember when she’d last seen little Sarah in the back of the carriage. Wasn’t it right before turning onto Harvest Road? Sarah had been looking out the back with her dolly. And Benny and Leda had both warned Maryanna, hadn’t they? “Sarah’s hangin’ over the edge,” Benny had said. But then everyone had quieted down, and Maryanna had assumed that all of her children had fallen asleep.
Everyone but Sarah.
Startled, Maryanna did not want to admit the appalling possibility that she had not noticed the goings-on in the buggy while concentrating on the drive in the ever-dimming twilight. It struck a blow to her very heart to consider her young daughter might have fallen out of the carriage and onto the road while her older siblings slept. Could it be? Yet what other explanation was there?
“Go quick an’ fetch Jake Lantz and his father,” she told Benny. “Run!”
Her eldest grabbed a flashlight and took off out of the house barefoot. “I’ll be back in a jiffy, Mamma.”
Ever-willing Benny, she thought, thankful not for the first time that he was named for Benuel.
“Will Freckles Jake tell all the men?” Leda asked softly.
Maryanna nodded. “Jah, for certain.”
“I can run over to the other neighbor’s, if ya want,” Tobias offered, his pale blue eyes blinking up at her as they all stood in the kitchen, Leda’s arm wrapped tightly around her. “Joshua will be glad to help.”
Maryanna shook her head. She didn’t want to involve him if she didn’t have to. In due time, Josh would hear the news of missing Sarah, just as all the other farmers would.
Tobias frowned. “Mamma, Joshua’s mighty schmaert—we should tell him. He’s just next door!”
Maryanna sighed. Tobias was right. Regardless of her aggravation with the young widower, they needed everyone’s help tonight, including her father’s. “Fine, then, Tobias. Go an’ tell him.”
Eagerly, the boy nodded and headed for the door.
“I’ll wait here with you, Mamma, in case little Sarah comes home.” Leda breathed in spurts, like she might cry.
“When she comes home,” Maryanna said, leading her to the long bench near the table. She simply didn’t trust her emotions tonight. Yet she needed to be strong for her children all the same.
Think, she told herself. What would Benuel do?
Oh, if only her husband were still living! “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Maryanna . . . and don’t forget it,” he’d said the morning before the accident that took his life. Out there in the field just across from theirs—helping with the corn harvest in Josh’s brother Ned’s absence. Maryanna hadn’t ever let herself think Benuel shouldn’t have offered to help that day. No, it wasn’t for her to question God’s sovereign will. Even though there were times when the loss hurt as surely as if her arm had been the one crushed and severed.
“Mamma?” Leda asked, her light blue eyes solemn. “Remember Sarah’s guardian angel is with her.”
Maryanna nodded and pressed her lips together. “ ‘He shall give his angels charge over thee,’ ” she quoted.
“Will the angels lead Joshua and the farmers to our sister?”
Maryanna reassured her that men from all four corners of Hickory Hollow would come and help search. And all night if necessary. They’d done the selfsame thing when Mary Beiler’s eld
erly grandfather, Abram Stoltzfus, wandered off one night last summer.
“Let’s pray Sarah won’t be too frightened.” Maryanna leaned her head on her older daughter and felt Leda’s wet cheek against her face. The vision of her little one walking around crying, nowhere near home, wondering what to do—it was all Maryanna could do to suppress her distress. To think they hadn’t even noticed Sarah had fallen out of the carriage. If that’s what happened, Maryanna thought, still aghast at the idea.
“The Lord Gott sees just where she is,” she added, partly to comfort herself.
“Right now?” Leda whispered, looking up at her.
Maryanna smiled faintly. “Jah, this very minute.”
With that, they bowed their heads, ending by reciting the Lord’s Prayer together. And the all-important words “Thy will be done” lingered in Maryanna’s mind long into the night.
Chapter 4
Keeping the night watch, Maryanna thought as she silently talked to God into the wee hours of Friday morning. She stood with clenched hands, her eyes fixed on the land beyond Hickory Lane. Dozens of men organized by Joshua Peachey, including Maryanna’s own father, had headed south through the field and on the narrow road hours before. With every wink of their flashlights and lanterns, Maryanna had beseeched God for help as they linked arms and combed the area.
Now the house was ever so still—too quiet. Leda, dear girl, had been the most reluctant to go to bed, sitting in her room and brushing her long blond hair for a good half hour before kneeling at her chair to pray. Benny and Tobias, on the other hand, were too quick to head for their bed, the mattress squeaking as they leaped in. She’d heard Tobias saying his prayers under the sheet, and the remembrance of his small, trembling voice brought tears to her eyes even now.
Unable to sleep, Maryanna moved through the kitchen and out to the back porch, standing beneath the partial moon. She felt as dazed as the night of Benuel’s Homegoing, numb and unable to think clearly. “Fuzzy-headed” is what her sister Mollie had gently called it back then. Maryanna’s parents and all eight of her siblings had sought to soothe her in one compassionate way or another.
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