by Nancy Mehl
“He promised I wouldn’t have to teach my job to anyone else. I think we’re safe for a while. Four trips to Wichita in the past six months is more than enough.”
“I can hardly wait for you to get here, Grace. To be home for good.”
Home for good. Those words were music to my ears. “Hey, I’m working on a project that I can’t wait to tell you about. Believe it or not, I think it will actually help Harmony.”
“That sounds great, but right now all I want to do is put my arms around you and hold on for the rest of our lives.”
I couldn’t respond for a moment. My heart felt like it had lodged in my throat. “Hey, I’m going to hang up now,” I finally croaked out. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
“I love you, Grace.”
“I love you, too, Sam. Bye.”
I clicked off the phone and dropped it into my purse. Then I settled back in my seat and clicked the CD to Rich’s song about Kansas. As he sang about the prairies calling out God’s name and our sunsets resembling a sky set ablaze with fire, I watched the incredible countryside pass by me, perfectly portrayed in his lyrics. I’d always thought of myself as a city girl, but the last few months had shown me that I belonged out here where God’s creation outshines anything man can possibly fashion. Gratitude for His awesome power and tender provision overwhelmed me, and a tear slid down my cheek. I whispered a prayer of thanks. “You led me to Harmony, Father. And I found my life there. I’m so thankful….”
I wiped my face with my sleeve and checked the mirror to make sure my mascara hadn’t run. I didn’t wear much, but I had no intention of seeing Sam for the first time in months looking like a raccoon.
Rich had just started to sing the first song again and Snickle was beginning to let me know he was ready for freedom when I pulled into Harmony. I slowed down because of slick spots on the road that led through the center of town. A recent ice storm had left its mark. Sam had explained to me that while most small towns had the resources to clear their main streets, there were no funds for that kind of thing here. For the most part, residents just waited until the ice melted. The Bruners, who run the local feed store, donate coarse salt that clears off the wooden boardwalks, but there’s not much they can do about the streets. Snow can be scooped up with plows, but ice is another matter.
The sun had set, and the old-fashioned streetlights had flickered on, lighting up the wooden boardwalks and all the interesting buildings that sat side by side, no two structures alike. Each business had its own personality—and paint color. Harmony was certainly colorful—literally and figuratively. I loved its quaint style and unique presence.
No one was in sight, although I could see cars parked in front of Mary’s Kitchen, the only restaurant in town. I’d heard about small towns that figuratively roll up their sidewalks after dark. Harmony certainly fit the bill. Most of the population consisted of Conservative Mennonite families who spent their evenings at home. Children did not run wild and parents did not carouse.
Family time was sacred, and evenings were spent having dinner, doing homework, and reading the Bible before early bedtimes. A good way to live, in my opinion, even though I actually enjoy staying up late. I love the peaceful quiet of the country and like to spend time sitting out on my front porch at night, watching the sky become christened with God’s flickering jewels. There would be none of that tonight, though, and perhaps the rest of the winter. I had no intention of having someone find me frozen solid to my wooden rocking chair.
I passed the old cemetery where my uncle Benjamin was buried and had just driven past the huge Bethel Mennonite Church building on the edge of town when I noticed something in my rearview mirror. A figure stood near the front door of the church, holding a large object. I pulled over to get a better look. All the inside lights were off in the church except for the pastor’s office. Sure enough, Abel’s dark blue car with its black-painted bumpers sat off to the side of the building. The frigid temperature caused me concern. Was it Emily, Abel’s wife, trying to get inside? Had she been locked out?
I turned the car around while trying to calm Snickle and drove back. I pulled into the circular drive in front of the building. My headlights shone on a figure in a dark cloak, her hood hanging over her face. The woman seemed startled to see my car and froze for several seconds while I drove up closer. Just as I opened my car door, she set her package down and backed slowly down the steps. A strange, plaintive wail rose through the quiet Harmony evening. I ran up next to a large basket and pulled back the thick blanket on top. A tiny baby reached out its little fingers toward me.
“Hey,” I yelled to the woman who watched me from the driveway. “What are you doing? This—this is a baby!”
With that, she spun around and began to run toward the thick grove of trees that lined the edge of the church’s property. Not knowing what else to do, I pounded on the church door as loudly as I could and then took off after her. Unfortunately, the grass was slick with ice that had melted and refrozen. Although it impeded my progress, it also caused the woman her own problems. A few yards before the tree line, I reached out and grabbed her cloak. She spun toward me as I tried to secure her with my other hand. Suddenly pain exploded in my head and everything went black.
Chapter Two
Gracie, can you hear me?”
I slowly opened my eyes. “Please. Get that light out of my face.” My voice sounded far away. “Wow. My head hurts. What happened?”
“You knocked yourself out.” I’d recognized the first voice as Abel’s, but this was someone else. I squinted through the throbbing and discovered John Keystone leaning over me. He flicked a small flashlight back into my eyes and caused an explosion of pain to shoot through my head.
“Would you stop doing that?” I pleaded. “It isn’t helping.” I glanced around the room and realized I was in the pastor’s office.
“I carried you in here,” Abel said gently. “I heard a commotion outside, and when I got to the door, I found…”
“A baby?” I finished.
“Yes, a baby.” He stepped closer and frowned down at me. “What do you have to do with this, Gracie? Did you see who put this child near the door?”
I struggled to sit up over the protestations of both men. “Hey, I just got hit on the head. It’s still attached. I’m all right.” I shook my head slowly at Abel so as not to cause myself further agony. “I saw a woman put the basket there, but then she ran away. I was trying to catch her when she clobbered me.”
“I don’t think she actually hit you,” Abel said, handing me a glass of water, which I gratefully took. “I think you slipped on the ice and hit your head on the ground.”
I rubbed my offended noggin. “Well, maybe so. I didn’t see her slug me, and we both fell when I grabbed her.” I looked up at Abel with one eye closed. “I don’t suppose you saw her, did you?”
“I’m sorry, Gracie. I didn’t. She was gone by the time I reached you. Did you recognize her?”
“No. She was wearing a long dark cloak, you know, like the one Ida wears. She had the hood pulled over her face.”
John wiped the side of my face with a warm, wet cloth. There was dirt and dried grass on the fabric when he took it away. “I hope you’re not telling us that the baby is Ida’s,” he said with a grin. “She’s in her eighties or nineties, isn’t she?”
Abel chuckled.
“Very funny. No, it wasn’t Ida.” I glanced toward the basket. “How’s the baby?”
“She seems fine. I’m grateful you knocked loudly enough for me to hear you. I usually leave by the side door. If she’d been left outside all night…”
“I think the mother was trying to get your attention. Did you hear anyone else at the door?”
Abel rubbed his beard. “To be honest, I did hear something, but I thought it was the old pipes acting up again, so I ignored it. But when I heard a loud banging and you yelling, I came downstairs.”
I sighed. “That was definitely me. Banging, yellin
g, and falling on my head.”
Abel chuckled. “I missed the falling-on-your-head part. Sorry.”
I grabbed John’s arm and pulled myself up. “Look, I’ve got to get home. Snickle needs to get out of his carrier. The last time I looked, he had his legs crossed. Besides, Sam and Sweetie are waiting dinner for me.”
“I think you need to rest awhile longer,” John said, his handsome face twisted in a frown. His dark eyes showed concern.
“What do you know?” I said teasingly. “You sell meat.”
He laughed. “My advice comes not as a butcher but as a doctor.”
“You were a doctor.”
“It wasn’t so long ago I can’t tell pretty girls to take it easy after they knock themselves silly.”
“Do I have a concussion?”
He shook his head. “I don’t see any signs of one, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to drive into Sunrise tomorrow and see the doctor there.”
“How about this,” I said, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. “I’ll drive to Sam’s very slowly. When I get there, I’ll take some aspirin. After dinner I’ll go home and lie down. If I don’t feel better tomorrow, I’ll call the doctor in Sunrise and make an appointment. Will that satisfy your doctor/butcher sensibilities?”
“Yes, I suppose that will have to do. But I really don’t think you should ever use the words doctor and butcher together. Puts a bad image in people’s minds.”
“I see what you mean.” I grabbed my coat and held my hand out to John. “Thank you for checking me out and cleaning me up. I owe you one.”
After shaking my hand, he picked up the cloth again and wiped my other cheek. “There. Now you’re presentable.” He smiled at me. “I’m just glad you’re back, Gracie. Harmony missed you.”
“Thanks.
I shook my finger at Abel. “If I were you, I’d call Emily. Your wife is a wise woman. And I’m sure she knows how to change a diaper. From the smell of things, that’s going to get more and more important as the evening wears on.”
He nodded. “She’s on her way. She’s great with babies.”
“Maybe you should call someone else, too. You know, like Child Services.”
Abel’s mouth tightened. “What if this little girl belongs to someone in our congregation? Perhaps the mother will regret her action and come back.” He stared at the now-whimpering baby. “No. Maybe I can find a way to restore this family.”
I reached out and patted his arm. “I guess the person who left this child here trusted you to make the right decision. I’m confident you will.”
His face relaxed and he smiled at me. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. Have I told you how happy I am you’re home?”
I grinned at him. “No, but you’ve had your hands full.”
“Go see Sam. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”
John stood up. “I’ll walk you downstairs to your car.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt a little woozy. I appreciated his offer and gladly accepted it. I waved good-bye to Abel, but his attention had turned to the baby, who had started to fuss.
“I know he wants to find the mother,” I told John as we walked down the stairs. “But what kind of woman would desert her baby like that? I think it might be better if Child Services was called in. It’s possible the woman who gave birth to that baby isn’t capable of raising her.”
John was quiet for a moment. “Maybe,” he said finally. “My mother kept me even though she wasn’t married. Her own parents had no faith in her ability to be a responsible parent, but she was a wonderful mother. I knew every day of my life that I was loved. Some kids don’t have that. Maybe this little girl’s mother is scared, afraid she won’t measure up. I hope Abel finds her and she decides to give things a chance. She might surprise herself.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Well, that’s awfully upbeat and hopeful. Not what I’m used to hearing from you. What happened to the grumpiness and negativity we’ve all come to love?”
We reached the bottom of the stairs and John stopped. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s the company I keep. It’s turning me into a pussycat.”
Maybe it was the bump on my head, but “You’re talking about Sarah Ketterling, aren’t you?” popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
John’s eyebrows shot up. “How—how do you know about… about…”
“John, the way you two look at each other, I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to see how you feel.”
“Who else knows?”
I shrugged. “No one that I know of, except Sam. We haven’t told anyone. We’d never do that.”
John’s worried expression made me feel the need to reassure him. “Seriously, I don’t think anyone else is aware of it. Maybe I’m just overly observant.” Actually, it hadn’t been that hard to figure out. I’d seen the Old Order Mennonite girl leaving John’s store late at night. And every time she walked past him, the longing in his eyes was clear. They’d obviously been successful in keeping it from Gabe, Sarah’s father. To say he wouldn’t approve was an understatement. In the past few months, he’d started to come out of a rigid shell of protection he’d erected around his daughter and himself. If he found out about John and Sarah… Well, it would be a disaster.
“You know, I’m sorry Gabe’s wife ran off with some guy, but it’s not my fault. And it’s not Sarah’s. How long will she have to pay for her mother’s mistake?”
I patted his arm. “I don’t know,” I said softly. “But if you and Sarah are to ever have a chance, you’ll have to tell Gabe. Hiding the truth never turns out well in situations like this.”
He gave me an amused look. “Is this one of those ‘The truth will set you free’ speeches?”
I laughed. It hurt. “Ouch. And yes, it is.”
“You’re still taking lessons from Sarah, right?”
I nodded. That hurt, too. “Yes. Wood-block printing. She’s very talented. It’s a new art form for me, and I’m enjoying it very much. I’m not as good as Sarah, but I’m getting better.” John’s distracted look made it obvious he wasn’t interested in my woodblock printing skills. “Why?”
“Has she ever…I don’t know…said anything about me?”
“For goodness’ sakes, John. This isn’t high school.”
His face turned red. “Never mind. Sorry I asked.”
“It’s okay. I’m just teasing you. No, she’s never said a word. But she wouldn’t. I’m sure she’s as committed to keeping your secret as you are.”
“If she told anyone, it would be you, Gracie. She considers you her best friend.”
It was my turn to blush. “I didn’t know she felt that way. Wow. That means a lot to me.”
“Thanks for getting me to talk about this,” he said. “I’ve never spoken to anyone about Sarah. It feels good to finally get it out.” He walked me toward the door. “So how are you feeling right now?” he asked, steering the conversation in another direction.”
“Yes, I know. I really am feeling better, but I have an awful headache. The sooner I get to Sam’s, the sooner I can gulp down a handful of aspirin.”
John started to say something, but I held up my hand to stop him. “Just kidding. I won’t do that, I promise. Just a couple. To start.”
“How about four to start and two more every four hours until morning?”
“You’ve got a deal. Am I released?”
John ran his hand through his thick black hair. “I suppose. But do you promise to call me if you’re not better when you wake up?”
“Yes, I promise. And thanks, Doc.”
He chuckled. “No one’s called me that for a long time.”
I smiled at him as I buttoned up my coat. “Maybe they should.”
He didn’t respond, just patted me on the back.
After saying good-bye, I pushed against the big front door of the church. The cold slapped me in the face, and I gasped involuntarily. Watching for ice, I walked carefully to my car. Jarri
ng my head in another spill was the last thing I needed. I wasn’t angry at the runaway mother because of the bump on my head, but I was frustrated and sad that someone was so desperate for help that they’d leave their baby on the steps of a church. My joy at coming home was overshadowed by concern for the abandoned baby and her mother. At least the woman had brought her child to Abel. If anyone could help, it was the Muellers.
Pain shot through my skull as I got into my car. A sharp yowl reminded me that Snickle had surpassed his level of tolerance inside his carrier. I spoke soothingly to him and tried not to think about my headache as I drove through downtown Harmony. A dozen cars and a couple of buggies sat outside the old redbrick building that housed the restaurant. Ruth Wickham of Ruth’s Crafts and Creations was just locking up, probably on her way to Mary’s Kitchen. She waved enthusiastically when she spotted me. Three other people walking down the wooden sidewalk stopped and waved, too. Cora and Amos Crandall owned Cora’s Simple Clothing Shoppe. They sold most of the garments worn by the Mennonite population in Harmony. I waved back at them. Their son, Drew, put his hand up and laughed at me.
Drew has Down syndrome, but his parents’ patience and love have done wonders for him. A sweet, gentle young man, he holds a special place in the hearts of everyone in town. Of course, Harmony is like that. As Sam reminds me constantly, it’s more a family than a town. Although it might be a really small town by anyone’s standards, it was still the most interesting place I’d ever been.
Ruth waited until the Crandalls caught up to her. They were most likely having dinner together before going home. Even though Ruth lives alone, she doesn’t have much time to feel lonely with friends like the Crandalls who go out of their way to include her in their lives. I glanced up and down the street, but it seemed that almost everyone else had already gone home.
I drove past shops and businesses owned by people who were no longer strangers, but friends. Besides Ruth’s Crafts and Creations and Cora’s Simple Clothing Shoppe, there was Menlo’s Bakery, Bruner Leather Goods and Feed, Scheidler’s Farm Supplies, Nature’s Bounty, and Keystone Meats. All the stores belonged to people I had come to know and care about. I noticed that the sign for Hoffman’s Candles had been taken down. I wondered where Levi was tonight. He’d been accused of a long-ago murder, but many folks in Harmony hoped someday he’d come back. I was one of them. But for now, someone else occupied his old store.
