Redeeming Grace and the Prodigal Son Returns

by Emma Miller

  John leaned close to her. “You have to come, Grace,” he said softly. “I’ll never live it down in the community if you don’t. Everyone will laugh at me forever.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” she retorted. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the luxury of following her heart—not even for an evening. She had to think of Dakota and what was best for the two of them.

  “We want to ride in the hay wagon,” Susanna repeated. “Don’t we, King David?” David nodded so vigorously that his bottle of soda slid out of his hands and would have fallen to the ground if John hadn’t grabbed it in midair and returned it safely to him.

  “I’ll bet you’ve never been on a hayride,” John teased Grace. “How can you refuse the opportunity?”

  How could he know? Grace wondered. A long-buried memory flashed in her mind, a snapshot of her standing at the third-story bedroom window on a Saturday night and watching a hay wagon of singing teenagers roll by the driveway of her foster home.

  The hayride was the highlight of football quarterback Bill McNamara’s birthday party, and he’d asked her to be his date. It was the first time he’d noticed her, and she’d wanted desperately to go. But even though she begged, her foster mother had refused permission. The 9:00 p.m. lights-out rule was inflexible, and there would be church at 8:30 in the morning, with kennel and house chores and breakfast starting at 6:00 a.m. She’d cried herself to sleep that night, and on Monday, Bill and Amy Pierson were an item. No, she’d never gotten her hayride...and deep inside, it still hurt.

  “Ya!” Elmer Beachy shouted. “Go with him!” A dozen other teenagers chimed in, all clapping and yelling. “Ride with him, Grace Yoder.”

  Would Susanna be as disappointed as she had been if she didn’t get to go in the hay wagon tonight? Would Rebecca be upset with Grace if she didn’t give her the opportunity to ride home alone with a boy? Was she being as inflexible as her foster mother by putting rules ahead of someone’s happiness? Grace glanced at Miriam. “If I agree, I can take Susanna,” she said. “But how can I take responsibility for David? His mother might not want him to go. Is he here with someone? It wouldn’t be right for me to—”

  “It’s all right,” John assured her. “I already asked his parents. The Kings are sleeping at Hannah’s again tonight. Sadie and Ebben gave their permission.” John flashed a triumphant grin. “And so did Hannah.”

  “You mean everyone knows about this ambush but me?” Grace protested. She could feel her resolve weakening. It was only a ride in a wagon with a friend. What harm could it do? She glanced again toward the restless team.

  The big horses stamped their hooves, tossed their manes and blew clouds of warm breath into the cold air. What a shame it would be if John had brought them out for nothing. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll ride with you this time.” But no more, she vowed. This is the last time I go anywhere with John Hartman. I’ll have my hayride, but after that, I’ll find a way to convince John that there’s no chance for us.

  The teenagers followed them to the wagon, some clapping, others still catcalling and teasing in Pennsylvania Dutch. But it was all in good fun; nothing was mean or hurtful. Susanna and David followed close on their heels, not wanting to be left behind.

  Grace supposed she should have been angry at John. This was preposterous. What was wrong with him that he couldn’t take no for an answer? Why couldn’t he accept the idea that she wasn’t interested in going out with him? Why couldn’t he understand that she only wanted him as a friend?

  Because it’s not true, she thought. A little catch in the back of her throat made her swallow. Coming for her with a hay wagon and a pair of magnificent Percherons was the most romantic thing any guy had ever done for her—like something out of a movie. And how did he guess that she’d always had a thing for men in cowboy hats? John didn’t play fair.

  “John Hartman, I’ll get even with you for this,” she whispered as he caught her by the waist and swung her up into the wagon. “You’ll be sorry.”

  “I hope not,” he answered.

  Young men and women crowded around the wagon. Someone boosted David King up, and then Charley and Norman Beachy helped Susanna. She tumbled into the loose straw, scrambled up, laughed and clapped her hands together.

  Rebecca brought an extra blanket from the buggy and wrapped it around Susanna’s shoulders. “So you won’t catch a chill,” she said. And then she leaned close and whispered. “And remember what Mam said. No kissing.”

  Susanna glanced at David, and hugged herself tightly. “No kissing,” she repeated and giggled again. David, still holding his bottle of soda proudly, plunked himself on a bale of straw and grinned back at Susanna.

  Grace saw Mordecai standing behind Rebecca. I suppose it’s only fair, Grace thought. Rebecca should be allowed to ride home with the boy of her choice. She shouldn’t have to babysit me and Susanna all the time. If doing this made both Susanna and Rebecca happy, it had to be the right thing, didn’t it?

  John waved Grace to a bale beside him, tugged his hat down tightly on his head and gathered the leather lines in his hands. Charley backed the team and led the horses in a wide circle. “You and Miriam be good now,” John said as he flicked the reins lightly over the Percherons’ broad backs. “Remember, married or not, you two need to set a good example.”

  Charley laughed and called to the team, “Walk on.” Susanna gave a small squeal of joy as the wagon lurched forward and rolled across the farmyard toward the lane. “No kissing! Any of you!” Charley shouted, and everyone laughed again.

  “Very funny,” Grace said to John under her breath. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your little joke.”

  “Not a joke,” John answered good-naturedly. “How else was I supposed to get a date with you?”

  “This is not a date,” she said.

  He chuckled. “You keep telling yourself that, Grace.”

  Balancing herself with both hands on a bale of straw, Grace turned around so that she was facing the back of the wagon and could see Susanna and David.

  Susanna looked up and smiled. “It’s wonderful,” she proclaimed. David nodded but he didn’t take his gaze off Susanna.

  Noting that there was a decent distance between the two, Grace slid around and gave her attention to John. “You weren’t exactly truthful with me.”

  “Me? How so?”

  “You told me that it was a hayride,” she said with a straight face. “I don’t see any hay. All I see are bales of straw.”

  He groaned and clutched his chest. “You got me. Hayride just sounded better than straw ride. And you wouldn’t want hay if you’ve ever sat on it.”

  She laughed. “I suppose I can forgive you for that, but I wanted you to know that I know the difference. I did grow up out west. Lots of hay out there.”

  “And straw?” he teased.

  “And straw,” she agreed. When they reached the end of the Beachys’ drive, they turned right instead of left. “I thought you were taking us home,” she said.

  “I am, but it would be a shame to get these horses all hitched up and not give them proper exercise. I didn’t say what route we were taking.” He winked. “An old Amish trick.” He guided the team a hundred feet and then crossed the road and took a dirt logging road. “Keep your eyes out for deer,” he called to Susanna and David. “Samuel said there have been a lot of them this winter.”

  “Are you a hunter?” Grace asked.

  Joe had been a hunter, and she’d always hated it when he’d brought home a kill. But the game had often been the only meat she could put on the table for the family. Joe didn’t work much in winter and her paychecks went for rent, gas and car insurance for both of them. Hunting had kept them from public assistance, and for that she’d been grateful. Still, she’d always felt sorry for the animals.

  “I shoot a lot of wildlife,” John sai
d. “With a camera, especially birds. I fish a little, but no hunting. I enjoy watching the animals too much.”

  “What kind of camera do you use?” She was interested. Joe had bought her an inexpensive digital camera for Christmas one year, and she’d taken pictures of Dakota when he was a baby. The camera had gotten lost in one of their moves, and she’d never had the extra money to replace it. Now, she supposed she never would. The Amish didn’t allow photographs to be taken of themselves. Hannah had explained that the Bible warned against making graven images.

  John began to tell her about his camera, and her last bit of annoyance at being coerced into riding home with him fell away. They laughed and talked, and when they finally turned into Hannah’s lane, she realized that she was sorry the evening was over.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” John said as he brought the horses to a halt in front of the house. “It was the best first date I’ve ever had.”

  “I had fun, too,” she admitted, “but it wasn’t a date.”

  “Oh yes, it was.” He was still teasing, but there was something else in his tone, something she didn’t want to contemplate.

  “No, it wasn’t,” she insisted, getting in the last word as she popped up off the bale of straw. But as she jumped down from the wagon without waiting for John’s assistance, she suspected that he was right. That was exactly what it was—an unforgettable date that threw a giant monkey wrench into her plans for the future.

  * * *

  The following afternoon, a visiting Sunday, John parked his truck near the Yoders’ back gate, got out and walked toward the house. The previous night’s surprise hayride had gone better than he’d hoped. Once he had Grace in the wagon, she hadn’t held a grudge for the underhanded way he’d landed their first date. She’d laughed and talked, and she’d drawn Susanna and David into the conversation so that they wouldn’t feel left out, and, he supposed, they wouldn’t do anything of which anyone’s mother would disapprove.

  Grace’s kindness to Susanna and David and her obvious affection for her younger sister had eased the way into his next suggestion. Once a month, on Sunday afternoon, after services, volunteers from his Mennonite church took mentally and physically challenged teenagers bowling. The event ended with pizza at one of the local restaurants. He’d wanted to invite Susanna, and Hannah had seemed open to the idea, but she’d been reluctant to allow her daughter to go because there were no other Amish attending.

  This time, he’d asked Grace first, and she’d agreed to speak to Hannah and David’s parents. And as he’d hoped, Grace offered to come and help out, so long as she could bring her son with her. Both families had thought that it would be a wonderful opportunity for their children.

  Apparently, David had left friends behind in the Kings’ old community, and his parents were eager for him to be happy here in Seven Poplars. Broadening Susanna’s and David’s world was something that John felt good about, but spending more time with Grace was icing on his cake.

  The back door to the farmhouse opened and David ambled out, one prong of his battered cardboard crown sticking out from under his straw hat. Susanna came next, with a smiling Grace bringing up the rear.

  “Where’s Dakota?” John asked as he assisted David into the front seat and the two young women into the one behind. “He’s not coming?”

  “Toad in his head,” Susanna replied.

  “A cold,” Grace clarified. “No fever, but Dakota was sneezing, and because the temperature is hovering around freezing, I thought he would be better if he stayed home where it’s warm.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t wake up with a cold,” John told Grace.

  “What? And let these two go off on their own?” Grace chuckled. “Hannah made me promise to watch over them like a banty hen with two chicks.”

  Susanna sat tall and straight on the seat. Instead of her Kapp, Hannah had sent her off with a navy blue wool scarf tied over her braided and pinned-up hair. She wore a robin’s egg blue dress, a black cape, black apron and black stockings. Her sturdy leather shoes were polished to a high gleam.

  “And who is this?” John teased.

  Susanna giggled. “You know me,” she answered. “Susanna.”

  David nodded and grinned. “Susanna,” he echoed.

  John closed the doors and went around the front of the truck. He climbed in behind the wheel. “And you’re David King?” he asked, pointing at David.

  “King David,” Susanna corrected.

  John glanced in the rearview mirror at Grace. She shrugged and chuckled. “Right,” John said. “King David. I forgot.”

  David turned on the radio and kept pushing buttons until Christian music poured from the speakers. He nodded and sighed, settling back and tapping time to the music on the door as a group poured forth a joyous song of praise.

  John met Grace’s gaze in the mirror again, and she nodded her approval. “Perfect,” she agreed, as David began to hum along.

  * * *

  By the time they reached the bowling alley, others had already arrived. John introduced Grace, David and Susanna to church volunteers Caroline and Leslie Brown, who were assisting two young people to find the correct size bowling shoes. “These are Daniel’s cousins,” he explained. “Your sister Leah’s husband.”

  Once introductions were made, Kyle Stoffel, the church youth leader, and his cousin Evan Cho, took charge of David and took him to check his coat and hat and find shoes. Grace offered to keep score, and the group moved to the two bumpered lanes set aside for them.

  Susanna quickly made friends with Amelia and Destiny. Susanna’s bowling skills were sorely lacking, but that didn’t curb her enthusiasm. David, on the other hand, turned out to be the best bowler of the group, easily scoring higher than the girls or the other two boys, much to his delight. His newfound friends admired his crown, as well, and the accolades made his chest swell with pride; he practically strutted up to the lane to take his turn.

  The hour passed quickly, and it seemed they’d just gotten there when Grace, David and Susanna climbed in John’s truck for the ride to Pizza Palace. There, they were shown to a private room. The owner was another member of John’s church, and he had provided the refreshments for the group without charge.

  John found a chair next to Grace, and soon they were talking as easily as they had on the afternoons when he drove her home from the clinic. It was just comfortable between them, so easy.

  “This was really nice of you,” she said as she handed Susanna a straw. “They both had a fantastic time.”

  “They are invited again next month, if their mothers approve,” he said. “And you and Dakota, of course,” he added.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at him, and his pulse quickened. Grace had tucked her hair up into a knot and covered it with a small prayer cap, much like the ones Leslie and Caroline wore. Grace’s dress was green with a white collar and tiny buttons at the throat. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her nose was freckled and tilted up, her face was heart-shaped and she had eyes that sparkled when she looked at him.

  She knew he was staring at her, and she blushed prettily and looked away. “Does your church do other things like this?” she said, glancing at the group’s guests, eagerly devouring the cheese pizza.

  “Plenty,” he admitted. “They hold fundraisers to help educate two children in Peru, assist in housing repairs for the elderly locally—I volunteer for that. I put my way through college working at construction, so it’s something I’m comfortable doing. And I know Leslie and Kyle help with the local Meals on Wheels program.

  “Next Saturday is a Christmas bazaar,” John said, “but that’s to benefit the Mennonite School.”

  “You have your own school?”

  He nodded. “Some of our members send their kids to public schools, but the majority educa
te their children privately. The bazaar is great. It gets bigger every year. I’d love to take you and Dakota, if you’d like to come. And Susanna and David, if you think they’d enjoy it. There’s food and entertainment. They show movies for the kids that even Bishop Atlee would approve of, and we have our own popcorn machine.”

  “It sounds like fun. Dakota would love it. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll mention it to Hannah and my sisters.”

  He smiled at her, and a delicious warmth curled in her chest. How easy it would be to let herself fall for John. If only... Grace caught herself. Why couldn’t he have been Amish? Then all her problems would have been solved.

  “You know you’re always welcome at our church services, Grace. I know that you attend the Amish ones, but we worship every Sunday. I’d like you to come with me.”

  “A Mennonite service?” She shook her head. “It’s not what I want, John. I don’t know how to make you understand. I want to be... I have to be Amish.”

  “Maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt to make certain. Ours is a solid faith. It’s given me more than I could ever put into words. Don’t forget, your sister Leah chose our path. It’s not that far from the Old Amish way.”

  She shook her head. She could feel tears stinging the back of her eyelids, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “No,” she said quietly. “It’s not what God wants for me.”

  “Are you certain of that?” John asked. “Or are you just too stubborn to see what’s right in front of you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Grace, Susanna and David returned to the Yoder house to find the kitchen crowded. After removing their outer garments and hanging them by the door, Susanna hurried to Hannah and began to tell her about the bowling, while a grinning David found his mother. In his hurry to seek her out, he’d forgotten to take off his hat. Sadie whispered in his ear, and he cheerfully returned to the door to hang his hat on the rack with those of the other men and boys. His crown was only a little flattened but still intact. Hanging on to it so that it wouldn’t fall off, he went back and squeezed into a seat between his mother and Susanna.