She nodded.
“Let’s keep talking, though,” he said. “It matters most that we love well.”
“I agree.” She sat up straighter again, half tempted to add minus kids. But she held her tongue.
“God brought us together for a reason, Jodi. You’re the only girl for me.”
She nodded, holding back tears. She felt the same way about him. But Trent couldn’t just toss out spiritual stuff and compel her to see the light. The fact was, she wasn’t so sure anymore they should go through with a wedding next summer. Not with their hearts in such different places.
Chapter 36
With help from her mother and Leda, Maryanna hung out the laundry early washday morning in a precise and orderly fashion from smallest item to largest. She considered Joshua Peachey and Turkey Dan, still somewhat perplexed at yesterday’s unexpected attention.
“Mamma, oops! You put Sarah’s dresses next to Tobias’s britches,” Leda said, giggling.
“I believe your Mamma has other things on her mind,” Maryanna’s mother said, smiling as she tried to put two wooden clothespins between her lips.
But Maryanna refused to own up.
“I wonder if the school board meeting’s done,” Leda said.
Maryanna turned toward her daughter. “You know ’bout this?”
Leda nodded. “But it’s prob’ly over by now,” she said. “I just hope we get to start school on time, like always.”
“You’re a right gut scholar—no wonder you feel that way.” Mamm bent down to reach for more wet clothes from the basket. “You’d be a right gut teacher one day.”
“I love school.” Leda smiled prettily. Then she said, “Did ya know Sarah slept with her new doll last night? It wonders me.”
“No doubt she’ll remember Jodi Winfield for a long time,” Maryanna said. “I ’spect it’s that way when someone practically saves your life.”
Mamm sneezed and pulled a hankie out from her sleeve. “We must give the dear Lord the glory, remember?”
Maryanna agreed and noticed tall, blond Ned Peachey walking briskly up the road, coming this way.
Evidently Mamm spotted him, too, because she looked quickly at Maryanna and motioned her head toward the road, a question in her eyes.
When Ned turned to come into the driveway, Maryanna said she’d be right back and headed round the house to meet him.
“Hullo, Ned,” she said when he looked her way. “Wie geht’s?”
“Guder Mariye. I’m fine. You?” He removed his hat politely and held it to one side.
“Keepin’ busy—it’s Monday, ya know.”
He glanced about, then asked, “Do you happen to know how to contact the young woman who found Sarah?”
“Not offhand, no.”
“No idea, then?”
“Jodi’s never said where she was house-sitting.”
He stared at his hat for a moment before putting it back on. “Well then, can ya let me know if you happen to see her again? I’d appreciate it, Maryanna.”
“I surely will.”
Not waiting a second longer, Ned turned and headed back from whence he’d come, which was most likely several farms over, at Noah Mast’s place.
What do ya know! Maryanna dashed back across the driveway to finish the morning chore, deciding it best to keep mum that Ned Peachey had come so unexpectedly, asking for Jodi. Maryanna had more than an inkling why the school board member was asking.
Why else?
Ready for some fresh air, Jodi wandered outside to the secluded patio, where splashes of color reigned in the clay pots of pink and white geraniums and multicolored petunias. She picked up the large watering can and turned on the outside spigot, still in her shorty pajamas. She’d stayed up late last night, searching online for recently posted teacher openings.
Feeling discouraged at only a few possibilities, most of which were out west, Jodi thoroughly watered each of the eight pots, then set down the watering can and strolled along the path near the willow trees. She welcomed a breeze, though the morning was still very warm and humid for the hour. Would the heat never let up?
Jodi tried to wrap her thoughts around what it might be like to teach at her father’s school in urban New Jersey. Even if she agreed to Dad’s job offer for a single year, she’d prefer to have her own place, although it was reasonable for them to want her near.
Her sights were set on her beloved Vermont, however. Where Trent wants us to live after we marry.
She sighed. If we actually go through with it.
Going back indoors, she wandered to the living room, still hazy from lack of sleep. She stared at the spot on the sofa where Sarah had slept so soundly. Jodi pressed her fingers to her temples.
Why can’t I get her out of my head?
Restless and hungry, she went to the kitchen to check her cell phone. No texts from Trent or any of her girlfriends. She scrolled down through his recent messages and felt sad at the way things had gone over the weekend. At least each knew where the other stood.
She went to sit on the barstool and forlornly eyed Trent’s roses. She lightly touched one of the petals, noting the buds were opening beautifully.
She reached for her iPhone on the counter, put in the earbuds, and selected her favorite playlist—a little jazz to start the day. As for food, she liked the idea of something light. Fruit and yogurt sounded good . . . and maybe some eggs. Not so light, but how long had it been since she’d made an omelet?
A full breakfast made her think of Maryanna and her delightful foursome. How did she manage farm life and care for her children so well? Were Amishwomen simply more adept at domestic life?
Jodi went to the fridge and pulled out a variety of ingredients, including black olives, onions, and green pepper. Once the eggs were stirred and blended, she sprinkled in some goat cheese, along with a small amount of milk, still engulfed in her music.
Then, while the omelet cooked on the stove, she sifted through her saved texts from the last week of Karen’s life, savoring each one.
Don’t hibernate when I’m gone, Karen had pleaded. Live your life, sis. I’m counting on you.
Jodi remembered the several good-byes she and Karen had said to each other. The hospice nurses kept calling to say the end was near. And all of them, including Karen’s husband, Devin, had rushed to her side to sing Karen’s favorite hymns and take turns praying, only for Karen to rally on three separate occasions. At the time, Jodi had believed it was Karen’s way of saying she wasn’t ready to relinquish this life. She wanted to stay with them, embracing the love from her wonderful husband and her family.
“I won’t forget her.” Jodi checked the eggs. This was the sister who’d shared nearly all of her passions—cooking, running, jazz . . . and their heavenly Father.
And Jodi cherished something of Karen’s besides her memories—the special bracelet. “A bracelet to last a lifetime and beyond,” Karen had said, her expression so solemn Jodi had thought she was being a little over the top. “I wanted to give it to my daughter someday, when she was all grown up. But instead I’m giving it to you.”
The memory of Karen’s dying day plagued her now. Sadly, Jodi turned up her music and checked her email on her phone.
But there was nothing.
She glanced at the cat wall calendar and recalled Rosaleen and Barbara’s invitation to return to run at dusk again this evening. Jodi hadn’t promised to show up, and she was somewhat glad now, considering her morose, down-on-her-luck feeling. There was no way she had it in her.
She wanted to be alone . . . unless she was with Maryanna Esh and her family.
Jodi surprised herself with the thought. “Why?”
Maryanna chopped carrots for a salad two days later, instructing Sarah as she often did when cooking. “Stand back a bit, dear.” She looked at her little daughter on the wooden chair next to her at the counter. “I don’t want you to get cut.”
“I’ll be careful, Mamma.”
“Leda, go an’ ring the dinner b
ell, won’t ya?” Maryanna said, and her big girl hurried right out to tug on the rope.
“Wu is Jodi?” asked Sarah, the cloth doll clutched in the crook of her arm.
“I don’t know, Boppli.” Seeing how glum Sarah looked just now, Maryanna felt sorry for her. After all, her youngest had been on the verge of tears all morning. “But don’t worry, I have a feeling we’ll see Jodi again.”
“Wann?”
She shook her head. Jodi hadn’t appeared for three days now, not since Sunday afternoon, so it was anyone’s guess. Still, it broke her heart to see Sarah so forlorn.
A few minutes later, the boys came bounding in, and once they’d washed up and were settled at the table, Maryanna brought the food over, and they bowed heads to give silent thanks.
When they were nearly finished eating, Tobias cocked his head and said in their first language, “Mamma, what would it be like if we had a stepfather . . . like Joshua, maybe? I really like him.”
“Oh, mercy!” she gasped, not sure where this came from.
“He was Dat’s best friend, after all.”
Leda and Benny stared at their plates, but Sarah looked up all of a sudden with an alert expression.
Maryanna guessed she shouldn’t be too surprised at Tobias, since he enjoyed working alongside Joshua. Surely, though, he hadn’t overheard Joshua’s invitation to Maryanna. Or had he?
“Mamma needs to finish eating,” Benny said, raising his head and looking square into Tobias’s face.
“Jah, ’cause there’s some delicious berry pie for dessert,” Maryanna put in right quick to defuse the tense moment.
Tobias, however, looked crestfallen, and Maryanna’s heart went out to him.
She studied little Sarah, whose doll lay next to her plate. And thinking of her baby’s keen interest in Jodi Winfield, Maryanna wondered, Would it be so awful to marry a man for my children?
Chapter 37
Dan Zook and his boys showed up later than planned Saturday, well after three o’clock. Maryanna fidgeted at the tight timeframe, even though she was fine about helping out as she’d promised. Telling Sarah to stay inside, she hurried outdoors and made it clear to Dan how imperative it was for him to return before suppertime. The last thing she wanted was for him to drive up when Joshua arrived for their date.
“That won’t be a problem,” Dan assured her, smiling with his light brown eyes and thanking her as he headed back to the horse and wagon. She couldn’t help noticing his teenagers, lean Daniel and shy Willie, sitting in the spring wagon with their straw hats pushed forward on their heads, grinning at her.
Well, for goodness’ sake!
Dan’s younger sons, Yonnie, Jonathan, and Sam, hurried to the barn to find Benny and Tobias. Maryanna watched them go, glad to provide a bit of care for these poor, motherless boys.
Shrieks of laughter commenced once Yonnie pushed open the barn door and his younger brothers followed him in. Benny’ll assign them chores right quick, she thought as she headed back to the house, eager to get out of the heat.
On the way she saw Leda still weeding one side of the vegetable garden, thankful for such a willing worker. She recalled her own father joking that he’d planted weeds just for his children to pull, so they’d learn to work hard. Working and obeying were the hallmark of her upbringing, and she hoped and prayed she, too, was as successful with her children.
Maryanna stepped indoors. There, in the middle of the kitchen floor, sat little Sarah in a puddle of tears, cradling her doll and whispering to it. Maryanna held back, observing. It was still baffling to think how in the space of such a short time, she’d bonded so thoroughly with the Englischer. Was that attachment inspired by the Lord God, perhaps? Sighing, Maryanna honestly did not know.
She scuffed her bare feet against the spot on the floor where the linoleum had worn thin as she entered the kitchen, going to the pantry for a box of baby pearls to make tapioca. “It’s awful hot for baking cookies,” she said, glancing down at Sarah, “but I thought we might make some pudding while Leda’s in the garden.”
This brought a look of glee, and Sarah dried her eyes on the hem of her little black apron. Then, getting up, she pushed a chair over to the counter and climbed up, still holding the doll.
“Mamma’s little helper,” Maryanna said, and Sarah slowly nodded her head. “But I daresay you’re much too sad today.”
“Jodi’s not comin’ back, is she?”
“Well now, darling, we don’t know that.” But Maryanna wondered the same herself, what with the week passing and no sign of her.
“I remember the house, Mamma. The one where she’s staying.” The words were forlorn. “I do.”
“I s’pose so.”
Little Sarah nodded emphatically. And Maryanna worried she might press the issue and want to go out in the carriage and ride all over Lancaster County looking for an Englischer’s house in hopes of locating Jodi.
She handed the measuring spoons to Sarah. If only her sweetheart might forget about the fancy woman, at least while they worked to make the dessert. “Let’s sing now.” Maryanna started the favorite song. “‘Wo ist Jesus, mein Verlangen, mein geliebter Herr und Freund?’”
Sarah joined in and sang a little off pitch, but that didn’t matter.
“All right, now the same part in English. Listen to Mamma.”
Little Sarah nodded, her face still gloomy as Maryanna sang, “‘Where is Jesus, whom I long for, my beloved Lord and friend?’”
They sang the hymn in German, and soon little Sarah’s face began to brighten. Maryanna knew firsthand that singing while working had a way of cheering the soul and wanted to pass that joy on to each of her children.
“After we make the pudding, we’ll have some nice cold watermelon,” Maryanna said when they’d sung the song twice through.
Sarah blinked her eyes. “Can we eat our watermelon outside?”
“That’s a very gut idea.” She leaned down and kissed Sarah’s cheek. “And we’ll see who can spit their seeds the farthest.” Maryanna laughed, knowing this would please the other children, as well.
A new online posting for a part-time art teacher in Trent’s very school district popped up on Saturday morning. Jodi would have laughed it off if she weren’t so desperate to get another teaching job, but for a moment, she actually considered it.
I’m not qualified.
Jodi rose and checked Gigi’s food dish, then decided to dust and vacuum to clear her head. Should she call her dad and talk things over?
Plugging in the hose for the central vac, she saw Gigi run for cover, squeezing her fluffy body under the low antique sofa table at the end of the living room. She could hardly blame the cat. Loud noises—and lately life itself—had a tendency to make her want to run and hide, too.
When her cell phone vibrated, Jodi fished in her jeans pocket and saw a new message from Karen’s husband, Devin. With no siblings and only Jodi as a sister-in-law, he usually copied Jodi and her parents when he sent out email updates to his parents and a few close friends. So what was this?
Thought you’d like to know, sis, he’d typed. Karen’s headstone is engraved and set in place now. Next time you’re in town, we can go to the cemetery together . . . if you’d like to.
Jodi trembled—she hadn’t even managed to attend Karen’s burial service after the funeral. Why would Devin think she’d want to actually see the gravestone?
Later, when the vacuuming was done, she put away the hose and its attachments in the hallway utility room, thinking the place looked better, despite the fact there was no real need to clean this much in the first place. Maybe a little cat hair, but the effort was more about her need to focus on something other than her life.
Letting Devin’s text simply float, Jodi decided to call her dad, needing a new distraction and feeling bad about not checking in more often. She also needed to give him an answer, as it wasn’t fair to keep him guessing.
While she was talking with him, she noticed a book on the
shelf in the living room titled The Amish Way, and pulling it out without knowing why, set it aside. She felt tugged back to Hickory Hollow.
“I can’t hold the position much longer,” her dad said, sounding uptight and unlike himself. “You interested or not?”
“I understand, Dad.” Sighing, she was at a loss for words. Besides, it might come across as a slap in the face for her to turn down a sure thing. “I just can’t decide,” she fibbed.
“You’d be foolish to turn it down, honey.”
“I know.” She held her breath. “But I need to.”
There was a horrid, awful pause; then he said, “Well, how’s everything going there?” Was he ignoring her decision?
She pressed onward. “I met some Amish people recently . . . even jogged with a few of them.”
“Trent mentioned that, yes.”
He talks to my parents more than I do, she thought. Any other time she would’ve found this to be rather sweet, but on the heels of Trent’s difficult visit, she kept her thoughts to herself.
“You guys doing okay? Trent said he’d been by to see you.”
She didn’t like what she was hearing. “It was a short visit,” Jodi said, grimacing. Surely, he hadn’t unloaded on Dad!
“We’re praying for you, Jodi.”
She really didn’t know what to say. “Tell Mom hi for me.” That was the best she could do.
“We love you, Jodi . . . and Trent, too.”
And if you don’t pull yourself together, you’re going to mess up a good thing—is this what he’s saying?
She scratched her head literally and figuratively, scanning the flyleaf of the Amish book and wondering if she’d made a mistake by calling. “I love you, too, Dad. We’ll talk soon.”
“Sorry the job isn’t going to work out.” His voice was stronger now. “Nice to hear your voice, honey.”
“You, too, Dad. Good-bye.” She hung up, not sure what to think.
Guardian, the Page 19
