Rachel's Dream

by Lisa Jones Baker

But intense emotions accompanied that love because Jarred had never been able to separate his heart from his mission to save the sick. Each time, he invested every part of himself into healing. And in that very process, he’d met a girl whom he’d come to lean on.

  Rachel drifted into his thoughts while he continued to rake the pile of straw near the entrance. He’d been up most of the night thinking. Opening up to Rachel about Matt’s death and writing his parents had stirred up a mixture of emotions. Last night, he had slid back into a place where terrible guilt overcame him.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and whispered, “Dear Lord, Please help me. My burden’s too heavy for me to bear alone.”

  When he opened his eyes, he mentally relived happy moments from yesterday. As he eyed a bag of oats, he focused on the only person he’d confessed his past to.

  He stopped a moment to envision the rosy glow in Rachel’s cheeks. The honesty and sincerity in her blue-green eyes. The loose strands of hair that escaped from her kapp and caressed the sides of her face while she’d worked. What piqued his interest most was her sincere intent to support him. And above all, her optimism.

  In his lifetime, he’d experienced very few close relationships. Even with Tom, Jarred hadn’t been comfortable enough to disclose the details about Matt’s passing. Of course, his conversations with Tom had pertained to animals. No one had really brought up Jarred’s past until Rachel.

  As he thought back on what he’d told her, it wasn’t his confession that surprised him nearly as much as her unexpected interest and reaction. He’d never forget her expression, a strong combination of shock and devastation. When she’d finally thought of something to say, her voice had quivered. Obviously, she’d taken to heart what he’d told her.

  The light morning breeze came in through the open doors of the barn to caress the back of his neck. He grabbed the bottom of his oversized T-shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. While the breeze lifted the ends of his hair, he closed his eyes to enjoy the welcome relief. He soon forgot about the unusually high summer temps and envisioned Rachel.

  I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s so thoughtful. Insightful, especially for her age. Caring. When I glimpsed her reaction, it was as if she’d taken my confession personally. As if she was in my place. I trust her. But what I told her; it was emotionally heavy. I was selfish for dumping so much on her.

  He dug his hands deep into his pockets. I shouldn’t have. But she’s so easy to talk to. The story just came out. I’ve kept it inside for so many years.

  Should I be concerned about her? My story’s powerful, especially to an innocent Amish girl. I’m sure she’s never listened to anything so horrifying. Should I have kept my problem to myself ?

  His dependence on Rachel was a good thing. At the same time, it wasn’t, because being close to her didn’t necessarily guarantee a happy ending.

  He already struggled with one major loss.

  Life doesn’t come with a warranty. I would buy one, if I could, to ensure I don’t lose Rachel. Before I think of marrying her and raising children, I need to resolve my situation with my parents. Otherwise, I won’t be whole. And I must be a complete person to make Rachel’s life everything she deserves.

  Chapter Twelve

  Early the following morning, Rachel swatted away a mosquito before proceeding to pick pumpkin blossoms. The sun made a shy appearance in the sky, causing the beads of dewy moisture on the plants to glisten. The wetness gave the blossoms a deep gold appearance. She yanked the bottom of her navy dress to stop it from brushing the plants, but keeping them off of her large apron and sleeves was impossible.

  As she cut the blossoms from the vine, she carefully placed them in the basket at her feet. She loved how Mamma prepared pumpkin blossoms in the frying pan, dipped in egg and followed by a toss of crushed saltines. The trick was to pick them before they closed up. Of course, she was accustomed to being up early.

  While she breathed in the vine’s pleasant scent, her thoughts turned to her dream. Jarred had automatically become part of it. She grinned and tried to focus on the vegetables, but it was difficult when her heart pumped to the “Jarred beat.”

  As she laid delicate orange blossoms onto the paper towel, she imagined a crew of little ones following her from the home she would share with her husband and children to her parents’. She envisioned loading up her family in two buggies to head to church.

  And in the center of her vision was Jarred. She closed her eyes a moment, recalling his words of affection to her. For some reason, today, her dream seemed more real than ever. An Amish husband who loved her. A bunch of children. And even what she considered the icing on the cake.

  *

  The late-August sun lingered in the western sky as Jarred pulled into his drive, got out, and closed his truck door. Quick strides took him to his box, where he reached inside to retrieve the day’s mail.

  He closed the cover and proceeded to the house. The hot afternoon temperature was fast dropping. Thunder crackled. The damp air smelled like rain.

  Without thinking, he flipped through the stack of envelopes. The moment he glimpsed his hand-printed address, his heart skipped a beat. He stopped and stared in a daze at the self-addressed stamped envelope he’d enclosed with his letter to his parents.

  While lightning bolts flickered, he stood very still. The pulse on his wrist sprinted at a pace that could win a race, he was sure. Finally, he continued to the patio door to the kitchen, where his thoughts were an odd chaotic mixture of optimism and pessimism as he stared at his name in the center of the white envelope.

  He opened the blinds to glance at his barn for reassurance. Before the storm set in, he’d pay Cinnamon a visit. He gave a helpless roll of his eyes when he realized that he was merely postponing what needed to be done.

  Open it. Frustrated, he gave the piece in question a thoughtful wave and squared his jaw.

  They must want to get in touch with me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have responded. Envelope in hand, he paced to the living room and back. But a reply doesn’t necessarily mean good news. What if they still blame me for Matt’s death?

  Look at the glass as half-full. A few sprinkles dotted the window and glass door, making an uneven tapping noise that sounded like Ping-Pong balls meeting a table. As he remembered Rachel’s constant advice, he wished she were with him to read his parents’ response. She was so reassuring and logical.

  Faith. He struggled to stay calm while he pulled the nearest chair from his kitchen table and sat down, nervously tapping his boot against the tile.

  He stayed very still while the enticing smell of curry from last night’s dinner lingered in the air. He breathed in the spicy scent and swallowed. When the pace of rain hitting the roof accelerated, Jarred leaned forward and carefully picked up the envelope with both hands. While contemplating its contents, he squeezed his eyes closed to keep calm.

  When he opened them, the tomcat appeared. Aware that the stray would be outside in the coming storm, Jarred went to the door and cracked it open. To his surprise, the cat stepped inside.

  Jarred quickly made him a soft, warm spot in the corner of the room. “You’re safe in here. Don’t you worry.”

  As his new friend got comfortable on the oversized pillow, Jarred’s heart warmed, and he relaxed a little. He knew that God protected His flock. Jarred was a member. So was the stray. So what was there to be concerned about? He vividly recalled a scripture to not fear, for God was with him.

  He’d heard in a church sermon that God never turned anyone away from His door. That awareness slowed his pulse to a calmer, less urgent pace. Jarred carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the neatly folded paper. He read the written message and caught an emotional breath. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

  *

  The following morning, as soon as Rachel’s gaze met Jarred’s, she sensed good news. Holding her breath, she made her way to his Ford while he stepped quickly to meet her between the house and the Kauffman barn.


  When they met face-to-face, his expression was an exuberant combination of relief and immense joy. His eyes sparkled with newfound excitement, and the uncertain, stormy depths were gone.

  Rachel brushed her hands over her apron to rid it of straw. She motioned to the barn. “You heard from them?”

  As the sun played hide-and-seek from behind a cloud, he blinked before offering a firm nod and a wide grin. “Rachel, they want me to come and see them Saturday.”

  She led him to the bench beside the barn, and they sat at the same time before turning toward each other.

  A laugh of relief escaped his throat. “I can’t believe it.”

  “So you’ll drive to Ohio?”

  “Yeah.”

  She jumped up and down. “Jarred, I’m so …” She laughed because she couldn’t think of a word strong enough to describe what she was. “Happy!”

  He smiled widely.

  A long, satisfied silence ensued while Rachel took in the great news.

  Finally, Jarred cleared his throat. “This would never have happened without you.”

  She slightly raised an eyebrow. “You mean Old Sam. Writing them was his idea, you know.”

  Jarred stood and dipped his head. “And I intend to personally thank him. But first things first.”

  She looked at him to continue.

  “I’m going to ask your father if he’ll allow you to celebrate with me.”

  Before she could say anything, he lifted a hand and continued. “I know I’m not a member of the church yet, but I will be soon.” He winked.

  “I’m sure Dad will let us celebrate, Jarred! What do you have in mind?”

  He paused, then slapped his hands decisively on his thighs. “I’d like to bring Cinnamon over for a nice, leisurely buggy ride.”

  Rachel closed her eyes and drew her hand to her chest. “I would love that. So would Cinnamon.” With determination, she hugged a hand to her hip. “But first, we’ve got to talk about what you’ll say to your folks.”

  When he didn’t respond, she added, “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen or talked to them, Jarred. And Saturday’s only two days away.”

  A familiar, enthusiastic voice interrupted their conversation. “Good to see you, Dr. Zimmerman! Won’t you two come in and enjoy fresh-squeezed lemonade?”

  Rachel looked from Mamma to Jarred and lifted a hopeful brow.

  “To be continued,” he said and turned in the direction of the new voice. “I’d love to, Mrs. Kauffman.”

  Inside, Rachel helped with three beverages before she and Mamma joined Jarred at the table. Rachel sat opposite Jarred, with Mamma on her left.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  Rachel and Jarred smiled at each other. Finally, Jarred adjusted in his chair, returned his glass to the napkin, and squared his shoulders.

  He explained his situation to Rachel’s mother. While he talked, the battery-powered clock on the wall ticked to an even beat.

  The fresh scent of wood soap lingered in the air. All sorts of fresh produce covered the kitchen countertop, which was within view.

  After Jarred poured out what had happened, Mamma’s jaw dropped. “My, you’ve been through a lot!”

  Rachel took a drink and returned her glass to the table. She glanced at her mom before focusing her full attention on Jarred. “This is definitely a reason to be happy.”

  Jarred pressed his lips together and looked down at the table. For several moments, his lips stuck in a frown.

  Rachel rested her elbows on the oak. “What’s wrong?”

  She glanced at her mother, who also watched the kind doctor.

  He tapped a hand against the table nervously, and Rachel quickly noted the pink flush in his cheeks.

  “I’m excited. I’m also a little bit unsure of myself.”

  Mamma broke the long silence that followed. “Of course you are. I understand why you would be. You haven’t seen them for years.”

  Rachel cut in. “Jarred, to have a relationship with them might take some effort on your part. I mean, you’re not close to them, and they don’t really know you.”

  Even so, she added with enthusiasm, “What’s happening is wonderful!”

  Mamma leaned forward and jumped in. “That’s right. What’s important is that you’re all still alive and able to get to know each other again.” Her tone was thoughtful. “Just think of the time you spent apart as a long pause.”

  Jarred nodded and chuckled. “That’s certainly one way to look at it. A break that spanned most of my childhood.”

  He fidgeted with his hands. “But yeah, I’m grateful to see them again.”

  Rachel beamed and stood. She reached for Jarred’s empty glass. “Refill?”

  “Sure.” As Rachel stepped into the kitchen, she could hear Jarred and her mother. While Rachel listened, to her surprise, the conversation reminded her of a mom-to-son conversation. Rachel’s heart warmed.

  “I don’t know what to say to them. What to wear. How to act.”

  Reassurance edged Mamma’s voice. “They’re your folks. Your own flesh and blood. And even though you might feel like strangers, that will change the moment you’re face-to-face, I’m sure. Want to know something?”

  Rachel glimpsed Jarred’s expression of hopeful curiosity.

  “I’ll bet they’re as nervous as you are.”

  When Rachel returned, Mamma and Jarred faced each other. Rachel knew all too well that her mother loved offering advice, and it pleased Rachel that Jarred had opened up to her.

  “You really think so?”

  She offered a firm nod. “I’m sure. Let me tell you, I don’t know your mom or dad, but I’m a parent. I’m sure that they must feel awful about what happened.”

  Jarred’s voice lowered with emotion. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “They’ve had plenty of time to reach out to me.”

  A combination of seriousness and concern infused Mamma’s voice as she and Jarred locked gazes. “Jarred, I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel about everything that happened. And I’m sure your parents dealt with it as best they could. Of course, I don’t know what’s going on in their minds, but I can assure you of this.”

  Jarred and Rachel both looked at her to continue.

  “They love you and always have.”

  Rachel studied Jarred’s reaction. His look was difficult to read. She wasn’t sure that Mamma’s statement had convinced him.

  Rachel thought of Old Sam and what he might say to ease Jarred’s uncertainty. As she tried for the right words, the bright sunshine coming in through the windows lightened the shade of Mamma’s and Jarred’s faces.

  And suddenly, Rachel knew what to offer. “Jarred, pray for God to guide you and help you with your visit. You’ve made huge progress just by contacting them and getting a reply.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “So go and be yourself.”

  Mamma piped in with enthusiasm. “They’ll be so proud of you.” She gestured with her hands. “Even though your situation’s difficult, I can assure you that God will be with you. He is your Shepherd. With the Lord as your guide, how can things not work out?”

  *

  Saturday came quickly, and Jarred parked in his parents’ drive. His sweaty palms lingered on the steering wheel. He was home.

  He said a silent prayer as he approached the front door, placed his pointer finger on the doorbell, and pushed it. When he dropped his arm to his side, his hand shook. He suddenly wondered again if reconnecting had been a mistake.

  The warm August breeze caressed the back of his neck. The pleasant aroma of grilled steaks filled the neighborhood. As he stood, he could hear children laughing and screaming. He turned to take in the street where Matt’s accident had occurred.

  He closed his eyes, recalling his birthday party. The moment he opened them, the door opened, and he faced his mom and dad. Their expressions were difficult to read as they stood very still. But as soon as his dad waved him to come
in, his mother threw her arms around him.

  Love filled Jarred’s heart until he was sure it would burst as he relished his mother’s touch.

  “Son. Welcome home.” His dad joined in the long, emotional embrace.

  His father was the first to break the silence when they dropped arms. His gaze traveled from Jarred’s toes to his head. He nodded approval. “You’ve become a handsome man, Jarred. Your hair’s darker than when we last saw you, but that smile … and those eyes.” His dad shook his head as if undecided about what to do. A short, tense silence ensued.

  Jarred’s mom eyed her husband before lifting a decisive brow.

  His dad cleared his throat. “Before we catch up, there’s something we need to say.” He motioned to the living room.

  Jarred followed them in and took the seat on the end of the couch.

  When his father spoke, his voice cracked with nervousness. His words seemed to stumble out. “We regret what we did to you, Jarred. We’re so deeply sorry.”

  While Jarred took in the huge significance of that statement, he held his flesh and blood’s gaze. He watched his father look down at his shoes and study them. When he finally met Jarred’s gaze, his eyes watered. The creases in the corners deepened.

  “I’m afraid this apology’s long overdue.” He paused before lowering his voice to a level that was barely audible. “We can’t change what we did. We’re so sorry …” He stopped to catch a breath. “For sending you away.”

  For long thoughtful moments, his parents regarded each other. Their faces were an odd combination of agony and relief. During a long pause, his dad laid a hand on his wife’s wrist and squeezed it. All the while, Jarred sat completely still, not sure how to act or what to say for fear that his father would take back those very strong words.

  Mrs. Kauffman’s advice echoed in his mind. “God is your Shepherd. With the Lord as your guide, how can things not work out?”

  Those words from Rachel’s mother seemed to land on Jarred’s tense neck like a soft cotton blanket. His shoulders relaxed and his pulse slowed to a much more comfortable pace.

  The room was so quiet, he could have heard a pin drop. His heartstrings pulled so hard, his chest ached. To his surprise, he knew with full clarity what needed to be said.