Jodi’s eyes went wide. “Her husband is—”
“Gone to heaven,” Mollie said quickly. “The accident happened so fast, he never had a chance.”
The air nearly left her. “I am so sorry,” Jodi said, turning now to watch the three girls perform their individual tasks. A trio of cooks in long dresses and full aprons. When had she ever seen three children so well organized, yet without anyone outwardly in charge? This was not at all like recess, where nearly everyone had a vocal opinion about what they should do.
“We didn’t know if Sarah would be found,” Leda spoke again. “But Mamma did. She believed God would take care of my sister.”
“Aendi Maryanna must have prayed a lot,” Bertie added, glancing down at her handful of spoons and then recounting.
“We all did.” Leda looked over again at Jodi. “And you’re the answer the Lord gave us.”
Such words stirred something deep in Jodi’s heart, especially coming from a mere child.
Leda reached out for Jodi’s hand. “Please, won’t ya join us?”
And, of course, Jodi was unable to resist.
Chapter 14
The first thing Maryanna did before putting Sarah down was to remove her fancy attire. At least the Englischer had clothed her in something to bring her home. It was still beyond her why Sarah had removed her dress, though she’d sometimes been known to do so as a toddler. So many questions flitted about Maryanna’s head.
As warm as it was upstairs, Maryanna just let Sarah lie there in her underwear, which looked as clean as Sarah herself—surprising, given all she’d been through. In fact, her daughter smelled of soap.
Gently, she covered Sarah with a light throw and knelt beside the bed, thanking God for bringing her baby safely home. Help me be ever mindful of putting you first, before my children or anything else, O Father God.
Rising to sit on the bed, Maryanna let her tears fall as the realization settled in—the dear Lord had answered their prayers. She began to hum one of the songs she’d taught her children since they were tiny. “I have a friend who loves me . . . and that friend is Jesus.”
As she looked down at Sarah, she knew that her cloth doll would eventually have to be replaced. It would take no time at all to make her a new one. Even so, the likelihood of her naming the new doll Kaylee like the lost one was unlikely, persnickety as her young daughter was.
Kind though Jodi seemed, Maryanna was disturbed by this brush with the world and the connection her daughter seemed to have with the brunette woman. Never before had she known her youngest to be so familiar, even snuggly, with any of her grandparents or many aunts, let alone someone outside Hickory Hollow. Wherever had she gotten the idea she could be so with an Englischer?
But of course Jodi Winfield had rescued little Sarah, delivering her back to Maryanna’s arms. Perhaps Sarah’s relief at being found explained it.
Tiptoeing to the dresser, Maryanna opened the drawer and removed the dress Joshua Peachey and his father had delivered to her before dawn. Now that Sarah was safely home, she’d simply wash it up right nice.
Oh no! How had she forgotten? The men were still out searching for Sarah! “Someone must alert them,” she said aloud, moving quickly through the bedroom to the hallway. “And Daed and Mamm must be told, too.”
She dashed across the hall to Leda’s room, where the windows faced east, toward the Peachey farmhouse. To her surprise, there was Josh, coming out his back door and walking briskly toward the long dirt drive leading to the road. Why, he might be heading back to search with the men even now.
Someone must get the word to him that Sarah was home, asleep in her own bed. Tobias, perhaps? He knows Josh best. . . .
Maryanna nearly flew downstairs into the kitchen. The girls were still preparing dinner, and Jodi stood looking rather out of place by the screen door. “I’m awful sorry,” she told her. “I need to fetch one of my boys to run over yonder right quick.”
“Oh, that’s fine—”
“You are staying for dinner, jah?” Maryanna said.
Leda interjected. “Mamma, the boys took the ponies up to the high meadow. They’ll be back for the noon meal, though. Do ya want me to go instead?”
Maryanna shook her head, waving her hand. “Ach, I’ll be right back,” she said. “Must catch the neighbor an’ tell him to call off the search.”
She swept out the back door and lifted her skirt just enough so she wouldn’t trip as she hurried over the yard, seeing Mollie over talking to Mamm on the small porch next door. She made her way through the vast field between the two farmhouses, then past Josh’s old clackety windmill and the woodshed piled high with logs. Next came the stacked-stone springhouse—Benuel had helped repair the exterior a year before his accident. He’d said then that Josh was a mighty dependable fellow. “A man to be counted on.”
Feeling slightly winded, Maryanna thought ahead to what she should say to Josh. Despite the good news of Sarah’s homecoming, she felt tense and terribly uncomfortable. She couldn’t shake off the remembrance of waking from her faint in Josh’s arms, and mumbled now in disgust at herself as she neared him and slowed. Was it proper to call out to get his attention?
She supposed she had no choice, not unless she wanted to continue running after this man. The last thing I want to do!
“Hullo, Josh.” She raised her voice a bit, noticing he was without his large dog.
Joshua turned and looked at her, out there on the road. “Maryanna . . . what is it?” His eyes registered concern as he rushed back. “Is there some word on your daughter, maybe?” He put out his hand as if to touch her, then drew it back.
“Bless the Lord, she’s been found.”
“Such wunnerbaar-gut news!”
Tears of happiness threatened to spill down her cheeks. “Sarah’s resting in her own room. Safe.”
He raised his eyes to the skies. “I prayed this might happen. Did she wander home, then?”
“An English woman discovered her somewhere near the road,” Maryanna said. Then, feeling a bit strange, she added, “The young woman’s still at my house.”
Josh fumbled to remove his straw hat. “This is the best news, ain’t?” He grinned, his deep-set eyes searching hers.
“I need to get back. I came just to ask ya to let the men out searching know . . . ’specially the bishop.”
“Oh, jah . . . jah,” he sputtered. “I’ll go an’ tell them without delay.”
But she couldn’t let him leave just yet—not before she set the record straight. “I’m fit to be tied ’bout what happened earlier . . . ya know, when I—” She felt her face grow warm.
“Passed out?” He merely shrugged and smiled pleasantly, if awkwardly. “’Twas better than letting ya fall, ain’t so, Maryanna?”
Was he teasing her? Maryanna wasn’t sure what to think. “Jah . . . for that, I best be thankin’ ya.”
“No need to fret.”
“All right, then. Denki, Josh.”
He made a little sound. “It’s Joshua, by the way.” His eyes twinkled at her.
“Ach, forgot—no nickname.” Oddly, she felt lighter, relieved she’d brought up the niggling topic.
Then, without another word, he ran off to spread the news.
Going back the way she came, Maryanna noticed what looked to be an old swing in need of repair. Nearby, a pair of wooden benches with peeling paint waited beneath the large shade tree across the driveway from the house. There was no evidence that either the swing or the benches had been used since Suzanne’s passing.
Maryanna wondered if it had been a special spot for the young couple. Turning, she saw on the opposite side of the yard Joshua’s meager attempts at a flower bed. A hodgepodge of flowers had sprung up all along the west side of the house, like he’d scattered a variety of seeds without giving any thought to the arrangement. For pity’s sake, she thought, but with a prick of sadness, sorry he’d lost his pretty young bride . . . and their baby, too.
He must be ever s
o lonely without even a child to welcome him home.
Hurrying now, Maryanna longed to see her own little ones again. She thanked the Almighty, promising to be ever grateful for her little family and home, as well as the cheery greenhouse where she loved to work and be mindful of her Creator.
Just then she heard squawking and carrying on coming through Joshua’s open front room windows behind her. For a moment, it sounded like it might be the raucous parrot young Tobias was so fond of—one of Joshua’s ridiculous pets. But how on earth could such a creature screech her name? “Mary-anna, Mary-anna!”
The clamor startled her, and she quickly made her way toward the grazing land. “Benuel would have a gut chuckle over this,” she said aloud.
She glanced back at Joshua’s house and saw Buster shake himself awake and leap down from the back porch, the sound of that parrot ringing in her ears. The squawking and the disarray in the flower garden caused her to shake her head.
Preaching service was to be held at Joshua’s place come Sunday, in only two days. Had he even thought of sprucing things up for the sake of almighty God and the People?
What he needs is a gut wife, she thought to herself. Anybody but me!
Chapter 15
Jodi studied the hand pump not far from the back of the house, intrigued by the old-time contraption. She started to push down on the handle, trying her best to draw out some water. “Must be a very deep well,” she muttered after a number of attempts. She wondered if Maryanna had gotten sidetracked on her mission to the neighbor’s. And Mollie was still next door.
Looking about her, Jodi was amazed at how she’d stumbled into a little pocket of time where no one followed the rules of modern society. It was as if the dogged forward march of years had ceased.
Her mind wandered back to when she was in grade school. Dad had liked spending hours pruning his rosebushes and often waxed eloquent with trimmers in his smooth schoolteacher hands. “Remember, each person you meet in life crosses your path for a reason. You can learn from everyone you encounter.”
Contemplating her father’s remarks, she heard footsteps on the porch steps—Bertie was stepping outside. The girl came one step at a time and shuffled toward Jodi, a frown on her heart-shaped face.
“Takes awful long, ain’t?” Bertie was looking at the hand pump.
Jodi nodded. “My arms are already sore.” I’m a wimp!
“We don’t get many outsiders here,” Bertie said. She clumsily placed her chubby hands on the pump and helped Jodi push. “We prob’ly scare ’em off.”
“Things are different here, yes.”
“Where do you live?” Bertie asked, standing very near her now.
“I live in Vermont, but I’m house-sitting not far from here.”
“House-sitting?”
Jodi explained the concept of taking care of someone else’s home while they were away. “My cousin and his wife have a beautiful indoor cat that I’m caring for, too.” She’d seen several barn cats running around and wondered if Bertie had ever seen an animal as spoiled as the prim and proper Gigi.
“So you’re cat-sitting, too?”
“Strange as it may sound, I am.”
Suddenly, the water started rushing forth, and Bertie squealed. She stepped back and clapped her hands, moving to grab the metal dipper. “Here, ya need this.”
After all that work, only a dipperful? Jodi smiled, enjoying Bertie’s enthusiasm. It was apparent she suffered from some sort of physical disorder, as well as developmental delays. The trunk of her body was very round and disproportionate to the rest of her. But her demeanor was sweet and her joy refreshing.
While Jodi sipped the cold water from the dipper, Leda stepped onto the back porch and held up a plastic pitcher, waving it at Bertie. “Wanna fill this up?”
“Gut idea,” Bertie mumbled, as if she wished she’d thought of it.
“We’ll be ready to eat in a jiffy,” Mollie said, appearing around the side of the house. “Might as well wash up. Maryanna’s headin’ this way.”
Jodi looked over her shoulder and saw Maryanna coming from the pasture, her face red in the heat.
“Sorry it took so long,” Maryanna called, taking long strides.
“I’ve had good company,” Jodi replied with a glance at Bertie.
This brought a bright smile to Bertie’s face, and she motioned for both Jodi and Maryanna to head inside with her. But Bertie stumbled on the porch steps and would have fallen if Jodi hadn’t reached out and caught her.
“Ach, you’re gut at takin’ care of kids, ain’t so?” Maryanna commented.
“I’ve had some practice,” Jodi admitted.
“A family, then?”
“No, I’m a teacher.” Well, I was. . . .
“Oh? What do ya teach?” Maryanna asked as they made their way inside and to the table.
“Third grade . . . I’m a classroom teacher.” She couldn’t bring herself to say that she’d been let go.
“A gut teacher’s hard to come by.” Maryanna frowned suddenly.
“That’s for sure.” Mollie looked up from the table, where she placed a large hot dish of creamy noodles with crumbled hamburger. “Just ask my husband, Jeremiah, and the rest of the school board.”
“Ach, now, Mollie.” Maryanna shushed her. “Best be eatin’ our meal. Leda, go an’ ring the dinner bell for Benny and Tobias.”
Leda immediately turned and leaned out the other kitchen door, where she pulled a cord to make the bell ring.
“What about Sarah?” Fannie asked, going to stand at the foot of the stairs, inclining her head as if to listen for her younger cousin.
“Let her sleep, poor thing. She must’ve been awake all last night,” Maryanna said, a catch in her voice. With that she sat at the head of the table, where Jodi assumed her husband had once sat.
Then, pulling out the wooden chair where Maryanna directed her to sit, Jodi settled in at the quaint table. The picturesque wall calendar on the far end of the kitchen caught her eye. “And be not conformed to this world.” ~ Romans 12:2.
Seeing it, Jodi felt she’d never been surrounded by a more visible example. She felt a sense of peace when Maryanna reached for Leda’s and Benny’s hands where they sat on either side of her, and Leda looked over and smiled shyly at Jodi, offering her other hand to her. Across the table, Mollie linked hands with her daughters.
Maryanna bowed her head reverently for a silent table grace as everyone else did the same, a gesture that Jodi mimicked out of respect.
When the lovely Amishwoman coughed a little, all heads bobbed up, and noticeable tears glistened beneath Maryanna’s eyes. The sight nudged Jodi’s heart, and she had to look away or she might have shed a tear herself.
Chapter 16
Maryanna’s parents came over from next door just as Jodi and the others were beginning to eat the noon meal. Maryanna introduced Jodi to Zeke and Emmie Mast, who nodded and shook hands. Emmie placed a ceramic pot of what she called red beet eggs on the long table as they all took their seats again.
“So glad you brought the eggs,” Maryanna said. “One of Sarah’s favorites!”
“Guess we’ll save some for when she wakes up,” Mollie said. “Poor dear is all in . . . and it’s no wonder.”
Mollie started talking about food, saying, “Mamm knows a hundred or more recipes by heart—though she’d never brag.”
When Jodi asked how she remembered, Grandma Emmie shrugged and said, “Just by doin’.”
Leda nodded, seemingly anxious to say something. “Mammi and Mamma pass recipes down by showin’ us girls how they do things,” Leda said, her blue eyes bright.
Mollie wagged her head. “It’s like havin’ a backup for the computer.”
This brought a round of laughter from the youngsters, and Jodi wondered how they knew anything about that.
Then Benny spoke up. “One of our hired drivers brings his laptop in the van when he takes us to the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market or the general store. He likes
to tell us kids all ’bout his English gadgets and whatnot.”
“Much to your Mamma’s dismay, ain’t so?” Emmie Mast eyed Maryanna.
But Maryanna merely shrugged. “Well, we live in the world, but we’re not of it. ’Least we’re not s’posed to be.”
Jodi glimpsed the words from Romans on the calendar again and assumed that any group, not only Amish, could support the idea of cloistered living with such a verse.
Later, after trying the pickled red beet eggs, Jodi asked if Leda might share the recipe.
“You just mix some canned beets and juice in with sugar, vinegar, and salt, and bring it to a rolling boil,” Leda explained.
The boys teased her, rolling their eyes and leaning their heads together.
Leda ignored them. “After that, you pour the mixture over the hard-boiled eggs and let them set at room temperature for a bit . . . then put them in the refrigerator overnight.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Jodi said. “Thanks.”
Tobias nodded his head repeatedly like a puppet while Benny attempted to squelch a laugh.
“Now, boys,” Maryanna said quietly but firmly. “This isn’t something most Englischers know.”
“Or most boys!” Bertie declared loudly, and the whole table burst out laughing, except Benny and Tobias, whose faces reddened with embarrassment.
Jodi was intrigued by the clearly defined gender roles. Apparently, boys were not expected to know about the preparation of food.
She thought of Trent and realized he would most likely starve if he didn’t know how to make a sandwich or open a can and use the microwave. After all, Trent’s mother was a longtime career woman and not very interested in cooking or baking.
“Our neighbor Joshua Peachey, now, he knows how to cook,” Tobias said, his eyes round little moons as he looked over at his mother. “For certain.”
“Well, he’d have to,” his grandmother said softly. As an aside, she explained to Jodi, “The poor man lost his wife a year ago.”
Guardian, the Page 8
