by Kelly Irvin
“If he has a girl, he isn’t admitting it.” Aidan elbowed Leo. “Also like you.”
“Oh, jah, Leo has a girl,” Matthew crowed. “My mudder.”
“Hush your mouth.” Leo picked up his pace, leaving the other men a step behind so they couldn’t see his face. They laughed. “None of you knows what he’s talking about.”
“I’m getting us some lemonade.” Henry jerked his head toward the concession stand manned by three of Jonas’s children. “Help me carry it, Matthew?”
The two took off on their mission, leaving Leo under Aidan’s obvious scrutiny. He ducked into the line that coursed by the stalls in the enormous barn. The air was thick with dust, bits of hay, and humidity. The smell of manure mingled with the odor of animal and man sweat. Flies buzzed. Leo inhaled and relaxed. Aside from his shop, this was where he felt most in his element. “That’s a nice Morgan.”
Aidan stepped in front of Leo and slapped both hands on the railing of the stall that held the object of Leo’s admiration. “Don’t try to avoid the question.”
“What question?”
“This’s Licorice. Don’t laugh. My granddaughter named him.” The horse’s owner, a man with leathered skin, deep crow’s feet, and a tan sweat-stained cowboy hat, curried the horse’s glossy coat. “He’s a good horse, nice disposition. A willing worker. Fifteen hands, strong back.”
The black Morgan held his head and his tail high as his breed usually did. His tail, like his mane, was thick and full. He dipped his head and whinnied softly.
“Nice to meet you, Licorice.”
The horse huffed and sidestepped closer when Leo held out his hand. His breath was warm, his eyes dark and intelligent. Leo patted his broad face.
“You’ll talk to the horse and not to me?”
Leo ignored Aidan’s frustrated snort and focused on the owner, who introduced himself as Charlie Hanson, a farmer from Chillicothe. “How much you hoping he’ll bring?”
“Hoping for two thousand.” Hanson smoothed his wrinkled hand along the horse’s back. “He’s twelve years old. He’s good with a buggy or a wagon. And he’s saddle broken.”
A decent price. “Care if I come in?” Leo pointed to the gate.
Hanson nodded.
Leo took his time examining the horse from his ears to all four hooves while Hanson kicked dirt off his scuffed cowboy boots against the stall railing. The horse was solid, like his owner.
“Morgans don’t get a lot of leg or foot problems,” Hanson offered. “It’s a known a fact.”
“Good to know.” It was after Red’s laminitis. “Why are you selling him?”
“Truthfully? Things are tight and I don’t have a need for three horses.” Hanson patted Licorice’s nose as if to offer an apology for his words. “The grandkids put their names in a jar and Licorice came up on the short end of the stick.”
Leo nodded his thanks to the man and they moved on to other stalls, looking at a pinto, an Appaloosa, and several Standardbreds after Henry and Matthew joined them with the ice-cold lemonade. None of the animals caught Leo’s eye like that Licorice. By mutual consent they returned to the corral, but Leo knew Aidan wouldn’t give up. His cousin leaned in close and raised his voice to be heard over the auctioneer. “There comes a point in his life when a man has to put up or shut up.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Why do you think I decided to buy a horse today?”
“Because you didn’t want to keep Star too long?” Aidan scrunched up his face like a scholar trying to please his teacher by guessing the right answer. “Because Star is eating you out of house and home?”
“I got a big job today. One that will pay for a horse and help get me on the road toward opening my own shop.”
“Your own shop?” Aidan’s mouth dropped open. He seemed oblivious of the bidding war that had developed over a nice-looking dapple-gray mare. “On your property or in town?”
“My property.” Leo glanced at Henry and Matthew. The older man had the boy mesmerized with his considerable knowledge of horses. “I’m hoping I’ll have some others join with me.”
Aidan edged closer and lowered his voice. “Like a certain widow.”
“None of your business.”
“It’s her!” He let out a whoop, then hunched his shoulders when several men looked around, frowning. “Why now? What changed?”
Leo pointed at the corral. Hanson had entered with the Morgan. “I changed.”
“You’re . . . ready to let the past go and move on?”
“Jah. I’m ready.” The question remained if—and when—Jennie would be ready. His willingness to turn over this new leaf might serve as a sign to her. He prayed it did, but Aidan didn’t need to know all that. He elbowed his cousin. “Now shut up. I’m trying to buy a horse.”
And he did.
FORTY
The wedding was like no other in Jennie’s memory. She’d attended many ceremonies, to be sure, but none for a young widow and mother about to embark on a second life with her first husband’s best friend. People from all over the Midwest—Indiana, Iowa, Ohio—had arrived to celebrate with them. Bess’s face shone with happiness as she slipped to the front of the barn with her younger sisters as her witnesses. Everything about the way she carried herself spoke of hope and delight and no looking back.
Was Bess thinking of Caleb? The father of her child? The man who’d been taken from her in a terrible truck-buggy accident on a cold winter day? Was Aidan thinking of Caleb, who’d been as close as a brother?
If someone so young and inexperienced could find her way to this second chance, surely Jennie could too. She could let go of fear and distrust. She could rely on God’s plan for her.
To have a second chance seemed so hopeful. A woman expected only one such wedding, one such promise, one such beginning.
Atlee grabbed her hand and tugged her back into her seat at the wedding eck. Around them the conversation of happy friends and family members flowed as they ate cake and pie, oblivious to the frown on the new husband’s face. “Don’t.”
No.
No.
She shook her head. Then she looked around. Everyone was focused on the beautiful, sacred ceremony in front of them. They hadn’t noticed her lapse. She would not stumble down that painful memory lane ever again. Those memories would no longer hold sway over her. She didn’t know if Atlee found peace in death or faced his due, but she had to forgive. Forgive, forget, and move on. She had to look forward. She still lived. She still had a heart that ached to be filled with love.
With every touch and every look, Leo told her he could fill her up with the love she craved.
She bowed her head. Thy will be done, Gott. Thy will be done.
“Do you promise if he should be afflicted with bodily weakness, sickness, or some similar circumstance that you will care for Aidan as is fitting a Christian wife?” Freeman’s voice echoed from the barn’s rafters.
Jennie opened her eyes and raised her head.
Bess smiled. “Jah.” Her voice was strong. No hesitation.
God’s grace was so bountiful. It covered them up. Jennie swallowed hot tears as she listened to the remaining vows. Each day required a leap of faith. Some bigger than others.
Aidan and Bess clasped their right hands together. Freeman’s hand covered theirs. “So then I may say with Raguel, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you together and fulfill His blessing abundantly upon you, through Jesus Christ. Amen.”
They were pronounced husband and wife. Freeman wiped away tears with a simple, unabashed swipe. As many times as he had performed this duty, he did not lose sight of its significance.
But he was only the conduit. God oversaw it and worked through him.
He had done so when Jennie married Atlee. Why she had to go through it, she couldn’t say. But she was a different person for it. Honed by the fire. Refined. Ready for what came next.
She stood with t
he others, waiting for a chance to give Bess a hug before she left with the wedding party to travel to Timothy and Josie’s house where the festivities were being held.
Waiting for Leo to see her face.
Waiting to start again.
Leo couldn’t put his finger on what had changed. He had served as a witness at Timothy’s wedding. It was an honor and a joy. But now, with Aidan’s marriage to Bess, Leo wanted to do all sorts of unmanly things. Shed tears. Bear hug his cousin. Shout. Someone alien had taken over his body for a few minutes. Surely, he would right himself if he could just have a few moments alone.
He waded through the crowd, nodding at relatives he hadn’t seen in years. People from Iowa, Michigan, Nebraska, who crowded the barn, squeezed together like sausages, smiling, nodding, chatting as they watched the wedding party depart for the noon meal at Timothy’s. They would follow and the feasting would begin. Aidan and Bess’s new life would begin.
He swallowed against the tight lump in his throat. To see his cousin so happy eased the pain in Leo’s heart. Aidan waited a long time for this. He was a good man who put his best friend’s happiness first. He deserved this.
You deserve it too.
The words were whispered in his ear. The voice was kind and gruff, deep, like his father’s.
He glanced left and right. The crowd flowed around him.
You were a child. You could’ve done nothing.
In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
The words erased the pain in his heart. The deep wound knit itself together.
He blinked against tears that burned his eyes and heaved a breath. He surveyed the crowd. There. Jennie stood near the door, but she wasn’t leaving. She didn’t move. She waited. He caught her gaze and she lifted her hand in a swift, small wave.
He moved toward her, dodging small children and clusters of guests.
“They’ll be happy, won’t they?” She spoke first. “I’m so happy for them.”
“God has blessed them.”
“He’s blessed all of us.” She smiled. “You and me, even.”
“We only have to learn from the lessons.”
“I have.”
“Me too.” Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Her gaze didn’t shift from his. “Are you sure? There’s nobody else.”
“Nobody.”
He glanced around at the crowd flowing past them. This wasn’t the time or the place to talk about their future, but her gaze promised that the time was coming and it was up to him to choose the place. There was someone’s future they could discuss, however. “Did Matthew talk to you about the horse auction last week?”
“Nee, he hasn’t said much, but he has been smiling a lot more lately. What happened at the horse auction?”
“It turns out your suh has a special place for horses in his heart.”
“Indeed?” She looked puzzled. “And that makes him smile?”
“He’s smiling because Zeke Hostetler has agreed to take him on as a blacksmith apprentice.” Leo studied her face to see if she understood what this meant. Her smile broadened. He grinned back. “He has found an occupation that suits him better than carpentry.”
“He’ll be okay then.”
“More than okay. He’ll be happy.” They could all find happiness, with time. “We’ll talk more soon. I’ll find you later.”
She nodded. Her smile made him long to take her into his arms and kiss her hard, in front of God and everyone who attended this wedding. The kiss would have to wait.
But not long.
“Jennie, over here!”
Leo turned to see Laura threading her way through the crowd. “It will be our turn to serve by the time we get to the house.” Her gaze meandered from Jennie to Leo and back. “Or did you have other plans?”
“I have to go.” Jennie’s smile widened as if she read his thoughts. “You need to get going since you’re in the wedding party.”
He’d forgotten his role was not over. “I have to go.”
Neither of them moved.
Laura laughed and tugged on Jennie’s arm. “Let’s go, my dear, everything in its time.”
The wisdom of age.
His and Jennie’s time would come soon.
FORTY-ONE
The black plume of smoke drifted across a cloudless, early morning August sky. Concern swept over Jennie. Jamesport’s downtown consisted of only a few blocks. A fire in one building jeopardized every building. The menacing plume spiraled as she waited for the light to change at the intersection. It took her mind from endless speculation over whether Leo would be at the store. His role in the wedding party and hers as server had kept them from having their talk after the wedding on Thursday. Friday had fled in helping the newlyweds clean up and taking care of visiting guests who weren’t departing until the weekend.
Now Saturday had arrived. Their last day to work at the store before they needed to begin packing up and moving out so Lazarus could claim it for his coffee shop. Mary Katherine was probably already there, marking everything down in hopes of selling as much as possible by the end of the day. Jennie’s friend didn’t seem perturbed by the turn of events. Mary Katherine loved the store, but she was much better at accepting change than Jennie.
Which brought her back to Leo. The emotions in his face had been unmistakable. She had no doubt that he had read the same in hers. A heat that could not be attributed to the August sun enveloped her every time she thought about him.
Which had been dozens of times as she tossed and turned in her bed all night long.
Lulu neighed and tossed her head. She sidestepped and tried to bolt. “Whoa, whoa, you’re fine. Don’t get in a hurry.” The light changed and Jennie eased up on the reins. That made Lulu happy. The buggy jolted forward. “What’s your problem this morning?”
She turned the corner and headed up the street toward Amish Treasures. The caustic smell of burning wood, insulation, plastic, and rubber hit her. Smoke billowed in the air.
Smoke billowed from Amish Treasures.
Lula tried to bolt again. “Whoa, Whoa!” Jennie tugged on the reins until the horse gave in. She parked next to two other buggies, leapt from the buggy, and tied the reins to the hitching post.
Ignoring Lulu’s indignant whinnies, she picked up her skirt and ran. Smoke seeped through the cracks around the windows and doors of the antique shop to Amish Treasures’ left. It deepened and spread with each passing second, seeping into their store, with flames sure to follow.
Leo stood on the sidewalk. She raced toward him. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I just pulled up.”
Three buggies parked on the street. Hers, Leo’s, and a third. Her heart banged in her chest. That and the thickening smoke made it hard to breathe. “Where’s Mary Kay?”
“I haven’t seen her.” He darted to the Amish Treasures’ door and pushed hard. Nothing. “It’s locked. She’s not in there.”
“Then where is she?”
“Are you looking for your friend?” Lazarus’s business partner—his name swirled away in the smoke—Mr. Silky Suit, stood a few yards away, wringing his hands, Kyle, the electrician next to him. “She went in with Lazarus. They were discussing the handoff of the store when they saw the flames. He ran in. She flew after him.”
“And you’re just standing here?” Leo started toward Antiques and Beyond. “How long ago was that?”
“A minute. Ninety seconds.”
“And you’re still standing here?”
“I called 911. Fire & Rescue should be on the way.”
Jamesport’s Fire & Rescue was a volunteer-run department. How quickly the firefighters arrived would depend on how far away the volunteers were when they received the call. It could be a few minutes or it could be fifteen or twenty.
“He wanted me to go in there and fix whatever it is,” Kyle added. “I told him I’m an electrician, not a firefighter. He was mad. And he’s crazy.”
“Is it an electrical fire?”
“I can’t tell without getting in there and looking at it.” Kyle sounded apologetic. “And it’s too late for that.”
Leo grabbed the antique store’s door and threw it open.
Jennie grabbed his arm. “Leo, nee.”
“Wait here.”
“Nee.”
“Tell the firemen I went after them.” He disappeared into the smoke.
One second, two seconds, three.
Flames licked at the windows, lighting the interior. Black smoke poured out the door.
Jennie couldn’t stand here. She couldn’t lose that second chance. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t lose her best friend, the woman who’d been there for her day after day for all these years.
Her heart pounding so hard her chest might explode, Jennie barreled through the door after her second chance.
“Hey, you can’t go in there.”
She ignored Kyle’s and Silky Suit’s shouts and plunged into the smoke. “Leo? Leo! Mary Kay?”
Blackness. Her eyes stung. Her mouth tasted bitter, burnt rubber. Her lungs burned. One hand over her mouth, the other flailing in front of her, she inched forward. She could see nothing.
She stumbled over a piece of furniture, fell to her knees, and knocked her arm against a wall.
“Ouch, ouch!” She righted herself. “Leo! Mary Kay!”
No response.
She’d never been in this store before. She didn’t know the layout.
Tears strung her eyes from the acrid smoke that smelled of burning wires and old wood. She closed them for a second. The darkness wasn’t much different. She opened them.
Shapes loomed. A china closet of some kind. Chairs. A display cabinet. Flames licked at the wood. She coughed. Her lungs burned. “Leo, please.”
Gott, please. Help me. Help them. Don’t take them. Please. I don’t deserve a second chance, but I want it. I’m ready for it. I’m trusting You.
She couldn’t breathe.
Stay close to the ground. Smoke rises.
She’d learned that long, long ago. At a May Day community fair when the volunteer firefighters had brought out their pumper and tanker trucks and raised funds for new equipment. The kids climbed around on the trucks. The air had been crisp and clean and fresh.
