“Ya.” She grimaced and blinked. “Ich bin ganz gut.”
He doubted that she was quite good, as she’d said. But Jacob recognized her. She was the woman who’d come to the construction site four months ago. What was her name? His cell phone buzzed again. “Just stay still. Did the horse trample you?”
“I don’t think so.” She inhaled deeply, frowning. “I think its shoulder knocked me out of the way and the breath from my lungs. I just need a minute.” She placed her hands on her stomach and drummed her fingers. Within seconds her brows knit. “Jacob?”
For four months he’d been glad they weren’t in the same church district and relieved they hadn’t bumped into each other, in part because he’d been rather abrupt with her and extremely rude to his uncle in front of her. But most of all he did not want to have to turn down her salvaged goods again. And now he’d run over her. “Ya, it’s me.” Should he assist her in getting up, or should he keep her right here in the road while he waited for help? “I’m going to call for an ambulance.”
“Why? So they can help you and the police finish the job?” Her whispery laugh surprised him, and then she gasped as if in pain.
His phone buzzed again. The third call in the last five minutes. He’d like to see who was repeatedly phoning him, but it was probably Sandra having a meltdown for one reason or another. Helping her wasn’t much fun, but he had no rocks to throw. What was it like for her to deal with bipolar disorder while being a single parent? “Are you hurt?”
She sat upright. “Only my knee, and it was injured before this.”
Jacob remained kneeling beside her. What was her name?
She stood up, wobbling a bit, but Jacob didn’t offer her a hand. Married women didn’t take any man’s hand except their husband’s.
“She girdeth her loins with strength … She has no fear.”
“What?”
“That passage was going through my head when you ran over me with your horse.” She shook the dirt off her skirt, standing a little straighter. “Of course the next thing that went through my head was ‘Grandma got run over by a reindeer.’ ”
Did she have a concussion? Why else would she crack jokes? He stayed right beside her as she moved like a snail toward the curb. “How bad do you hurt?”
“About as bad as getting hit by a horse while crossing a street.” She paused, looking up at him. “Really? None of my quips even get a smile?”
If his sense of humor hadn’t died, it was on life support.
She continued walking. “Apparently you don’t understand that being run over is probably the most entertaining event to happen to me in a while.”
If she was trying to help him feel better about the incident, it was working.
“I’m Esther Beachy.” She sat on the curb, rubbing her knee. “We met a few months back.”
“Ya, you had salvaged goods.”
She nodded. “Speaking of, while I wait for my head to stop spinning and my knee to feel better, would you mind getting my things?”
“Oh. Sure.” He grabbed the wooden crate she’d dropped and gathered the old doorknobs and hardware from the asphalt. Once he had the items in the crate, he set it in the gutter beside her feet and sat next to her. She ran her hands over the items, but despite her sense of humor, she was trembling.
He had no idea where the closest medical facility was. “I still think you need to be seen.”
She worked on the kinks in her shoulders. “Relax, I need maybe twenty minutes tops of sitting here, and then I’ll be fine.”
Jacob propped one elbow on his bent knee. The minutes passed, and only one vehicle drove down this side street. All was quiet except for his phone, which wouldn’t stop buzzing. Not only did it seem rude to look at it right now, but the Amish in this area were against using cell phones for any reason.
He stared down the road. What were the odds of the event that had just happened—a police car, an Amish man in a rig, and a pedestrian on a deserted back street at the same time?
There wasn’t much excitement happening among the Amish in Virginia. That was for sure. Not that he expected it. At least the Appalachian ridges and valleys were beautiful.
She rubbed the back of her neck before turning to face him. “You okay?”
“Me? Of course. I’m not the one who got hit by a horse.”
“Just because a person is fine physically, that doesn’t make him fine emotionally.”
She’d nailed that truth. He’d walked away from Rhoda without a scratch, and yet his heart had been cut out. But since that day, each time he crammed his belongings into his travel bag and moved to another town, he toted less emotional baggage. His move here had been his best yet. He expected the next one to be even better.
His life felt like a twelve-step program for surviving not being loved enough by Rhoda—and losing her to his brother. He was no longer brokenhearted. Or angry. Or resentful. Except for the restlessness and loneliness, he was somewhat content.
Esther’s hands trembled as she rubbed her forehead. “Four months later and now you’re not even looking to see who’s calling you?”
“I was trying not to be rude.”
She chuckled. “Ya, I guess flattening a woman will do that to a man.” She rubbed her temples. “Check your phone, Jacob.”
Relieved at her insistence, he pulled it from his pocket.
Sandra, just as he’d figured. When she became this desperate for him to answer, he knew he’d better do so—for her sake and Casey’s. “Do you mind if I take this?”
“Oh, please.” She made a face. “Answer it.”
He ran his finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I was at a red light, and someone ran into the back of our car!”
“Someone rear-ended your car just now?”
“No. Thirty minutes ago! That’s how long I’ve been trying to reach you!” Her screeching and her exaggeration of time indicated she wasn’t far from full panic.
“Is Casey with you?”
“Yeah.” Sandra sighed. “But I’m important too, you know.”
That she was, and she was also difficult, moody, and high-strung. Still, for reasons that defied all logic, she mattered. “Of course you’re important to me too. You know that. Come on, Sandra, just breathe. Can I speak to Casey?”
“Yeah. Here.”
Muffled noises came through the phone and then, “Jacob?” Casey’s little voice washed over him.
“Hi, doodlebug. You okay?”
“Mama’s upset.”
“I know, but your mama will feel calm and happy soon. Are you hurt?”
“It was a big boom, like thunder.”
He cradled the phone closer, wishing he could hug her. They’d talked about noises several times before. “And thunder doesn’t hurt anybody. It just startles them, right?”
“That’s right.” Her voice quivered, and he imagined her eyes getting teary. “You coming home?”
To Casey, wherever she and her mom lived was Jacob’s home. “I can’t come home just yet. But I’ll call you before bedtime tonight, and we’ll read Winnie-the-Pooh.” They each had a copy of the book, and at least three times a week, he read while she looked at the pictures. “Let me talk to your mama again.”
“The car,” Sandra said. “Do you have any idea what it’ll cost to get the lights fixed?” She rushed through explaining the whole scenario again and again.
Jacob stood and meandered down the sidewalk. He probably should’ve done that as soon as he answered, but he didn’t want to go far. Running over Esther was bad enough. He wouldn’t leave her sitting on the curb while he looked for a more private place to talk.
Sandra had no one other than him, and he wasn’t around a lot. He visited them far more often than was convenient and sent money to help with bills. Last year when he’d learned that she’d lied to him for years in order to keep him in her life, he was really tempted to walk away and not look back. But as out of
sorts as Jacob could get at times with life and God, he’d never forgotten the hours that preceded Casey being born. She was nearly four now, and Jacob remained as faithful to the difficult relationship as he could. He was like a brother to Sandra—one she lied to when it suited her and one she needed financial help from regularly.
He whistled, trying to get her to pause. “Sandra? Helloooo?” She finally hushed. “Come on. You can do this. Get control. Just breathe. Having a fender bender is really upsetting, but you’re looping. Do you realize that?” Looping was when she said the same thing over and over. If she didn’t gain control, she’d continue doing it until she was so wound up that she couldn’t sleep or eat decently for weeks. “Trust me. We’ll get the car fixed. The only important part about this incident is that you and Casey are safe, and you’re fine, right?”
“When are you coming for another visit?”
“I was there for Christmas.”
“And it’s now March.”
Had three months already passed? “True.” She sounded as if she needed a concrete commitment to when he’d visit again. “I have an idea. How about I head to your place the day I wrap it up here? That means I’ll arrive in about three weeks, and I’ll make the visit as long as I can before I start my next construction job.”
“Really?” Her voice changed, the panic already fading. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for another six months at the earliest. You promise?”
“I do.” He mentally calculated what it’d take to get there. It was the same trip he’d made here, only in reverse, so it’d be a two-hour trip by car to the train station in DC. He needed to hire a driver for that, but he’d rather get to a hub like Union Station than use a little depot in the Charlottesville area. Too many times their limited schedules didn’t allow much to choose from. He’d then need to change trains in Boston. “You can mark it down, Sandra. I’ll be there around noon on Saturday, April 13.”
“You’re the best, Jacob.”
Doubtful. But he missed Casey. A project he could do for her popped into his head. She needed a play set of some sort, and if he built her one, it’d be a constant reminder of his love, wouldn’t it?
“Ya, me and Winnie-the-Pooh are the best.”
She chuckled.
“I need to go, Sandra. Give Casey a kiss for me.”
“Okay. Talk to you later tonight.”
“Sure thing.” He disconnected the call and slid the phone into his pocket. He walked the few yards back to Esther. “If you’re feeling better, I can give you a lift to wherever you were going.”
She stared up at him. “Maybe we should talk first.”
He hesitated. It was dark and cold. He just wanted to make sure she was okay, get her somewhere safe, and go on his way.
She nodded to the curb beside her. “Please.”
He sat.
“I believe God directs our steps, just like it says in Proverbs, even if that direction knocks us down and sends our treasures flying.”
He believed God could direct one’s steps. God had certainly seemed to direct him away from Rhoda time and again while putting Samuel in her path. Apparently He’d directed Samuel’s steps. And Rhoda’s. “Is that what you call those old doorknobs, hinges, and handles—treasures?”
She smiled. “They are antiques, but be that as it may, I believe God has caused our paths to cross. Just last week I was thinking that if I could talk with you, I’d ask a favor.”
“About showing the owners of the new houses your reclaimed items?”
“No.” She elongated the word, making a face. “We had that conversation, and it’s over.”
He never accepted no as easily as Esther had. Maybe he should. Evidently, holding on to hope only made one try to make relationships work when they should end. “So what did you want to talk about?”
“Dora.”
Esther wanted to talk about the girl he was dating? “How are you two connected?”
“Sisters.”
He rubbed his aching head. How many coincidences could one evening hold? Was there a full moon behind those clouds?
After months of single Amish construction men attending singings, Jacob had started going too. He’d met Dora at a singing a couple of months back, and it didn’t take him long to realize that none of the other guys had asked her out. He liked the idea of bringing her out of her shell and opening her mind a bit to the world around her. So he had gone out with her three times since then, which was probably two dates too many, but something about her shy, awkward ways brought out the best in him.
Esther propped her folded arms on her knees. “She seems to think you’re a great guy, but based on the phone call you just had, I tend to think you have someone already.”
Jacob debated how to answer Esther. He hated questions and people prying, so maybe he should tell her it was none of her business. But rudeness on top of running into her with his horse seemed a bit much. “Sandra is a friend. She’s never been more than that.”
Esther nodded, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes, and he suspected she didn’t believe him. As he recalled the phone conversation, he could see why. But that didn’t mean he owed her more than he’d already said.
“Besides, Dora and I are a universe away from serious, so no harm, no foul.”
“Perhaps for you.”
He shrugged. “She had a nice time. I expanded her small-town thinking. And when I leave here for good the middle of next month, she’ll realize I meant what I said—that I was only passing through her life.”
“Despite having gone out with her three times, you clearly don’t know her at all.”
Maybe not, but if Dora was getting serious, he was ready to let her go. All he’d wanted to do was help her overcome her shyness.
Jacob stretched his legs, propping the soles of his boots on the asphalt. “I have three younger sisters, and I can tell you that you’re being entirely too overprotective.”
“I’ll admit I can be unfairly cynical, but I’m not sure it’s possible to be overprotective when it comes to innocent girls and handsome young men.”
Since she sounded sincere and apparently meant no insult, he resisted the urge to ask, Just what are you accusing me of?
“For my sister’s sake, I … I’m just trying to figure out your real goal.”
He stared into the dark, cloudy sky, struggling with whether to answer. Something about Esther caused him to relax his usual tendency to shut out people, and he longed to be honest. “To forget.” The blackness of the sky seemed to go on forever, and he felt lost in it.
Her silence felt appropriate, but as he kept his focus heavenward, he could feel her studying him. “It was a particularly bad breakup, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
Again she waited, and he appreciated that she didn’t rush into the topic with silly clichés or empty words of advice as if she had answers.
“I forgot that men can be vulnerable too, and I am sorry for that.” After several long moments she softly cleared her throat. “The good part is you’re not holed up, licking your wounds. You’re getting out and trying to move forward after a painful breakup. But I am concerned for my sister. You and I both have had our hearts broken, and I don’t want her to go through that.”
“It’s been a few dates. The worst that can happen is she’ll be disappointed.”
“You’re wrong about that. She’s been sensitive since our Daed died.”
A loss like that changed people—their thinking and their needs. “I didn’t realize he’d died. When?”
“Nine years ago. Dora was eleven.”
“You must’ve been a teen.”
“Eighteen.”
That meant Esther was twenty-seven, two years older than he … well, after he turned twenty-five this summer. “I’m sorry for your family’s loss.”
Her faint smile spoke of genuine peace, and he envied it. “Job said it well: ‘Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.’ ”
“You think
about God a lot.”
The sounds of a rig drew closer.
She shrugged, kindness radiating from her smile. “At least I do tonight, which is to be expected, I think.”
Interest in what she meant overrode his hesitancy to ask. Besides, she hadn’t been reluctant to ask him personal questions. “Tonight?”
She circled her gloved thumbs around each other, looking thoughtful. “It was on this night—”
“Essie.” A man yelled from a rig as it came to a halt near them. A bearded man jumped out. “Are you okay?”
“Ya.” She stood, hobbling on one foot.
“When you didn’t pick up the phone in the warehouse, I got worried.” He rushed to her and took her by the arm.
“I never made it that far. I had a bit of an accident, and this man helped me.”
“Did you injure your knee again?”
“Perhaps. Now mind your manners.”
“Ach, ya.” The man looked up and held out his hand. “Ammon, and denki.”
“Jacob, and gern gschehne.” They’d barely shaken hands when Ammon returned his full attention to guiding Esther to the rig.
“Let’s get you home.”
Jacob grabbed the crate of treasures and set it in the rig.
“Denki, Jacob.” Esther waved.
Jacob returned the gesture and headed for his rig. Parts of their conversation had been pretty uncomfortable, yet he was glad they’d talked. He needed to know that Dora might be getting serious, although he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Should he not call her again, or should he tell her face to face about his plans? Which would be easier on her self-esteem? Based on what Esther had said, he apparently had little understanding of how Dora thought. Or women in general, for that matter.
As he stood in the silence and emptiness of the small town, the encounter began to feel eerie. He felt a weird pulsating sensation in his chest, and his skin tingled. He’d had this feeling once before—the day the tornado came through and God used Rhoda and him to save his family.
Was there something more to this encounter with Esther than he was seeing?
SEVEN
Sunlight streamed through breaking clouds and glistened off the melting snow in the apple orchard. Leah’s homemade work sled jiggled and bounced her as the horse pulled the apparatus between another row of trees. The goal of this device, with its sack of feed for extra weight, was to tamp down vole tunnels.
Seasons of Tomorrow Page 5
