An Amish Homecoming

by Rosalind Lauer

  “I like it. Well, not that you got wounded.” She leaned in for a better look. On closer scrutiny she could see the slightly altered shape of his skull in the spot where the red scar disappeared under the blond hair they’d left on top. Yes, there was a scar there, but nothing that noticeable. “Brings out your cheekbones.”

  “I figured you’d see the positives.”

  “You know, I brought you a gift, but I guess you won’t need it anymore.” She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a baseball cap with the Phillies logo on it.

  “Nice. I’m not sure if I’m going to stick with the hat thing.”

  “Why deprive the world of beauty?” she asked.

  “Thanks. But I didn’t ask you to come here to ply me with compliments. I wanted to apologize for cutting you off. That was wrong, I know that now. I snapped. I pushed everyone away. I’m afraid I hurt you the most because you’re the one I care about the most.”

  Had he just said “care,” as in the present tense? She bit her lower lip to keep her emotions in check.

  “I don’t really remember the accident on the tractor,” he said. “That was a long time ago, and my memory suffered from it. But this incident today . . . It’s clear as a bell. I remember it vividly, the smells of smoke and charred wood, the sounds of wood cracking and the little boy who was calling for help. Ezra Graber. The kid got out okay, and me, just minor injuries. But it could have happened differently. A few seconds one way or the other, and I wouldn’t be here.”

  “I’m so glad it happened the way it did,” she said.

  “Me too. But I have to tell you, in that split second when I felt the floor let loose beneath me, I thought of you.”

  Her throat went dry. “Me?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been so miserable since we ended things, and I thought, if I have to go now, you’re my one regret. That I didn’t try harder for you. That I didn’t shake off the hermit thing and be the man you deserve.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she dashed them away, not wanting to lose sight of him.

  “I hope you can forgive me,” he said.

  “I do.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve started seeing someone else. If you are—”

  “I’m not,” she said. “I haven’t been able to get over you. I love you, Scout.”

  “I love you, too.” He reached for her, and she leaned over him for a light, sweet kiss that restored the joy Serena found in life.

  “Wow.” His blue eyes sparkled as he brought her hand to his chest. “This is my lucky day.”

  They looked at each other and laughed. They were still laughing when his mom returned with the nurse, who checked his vitals and looked at the monitor.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” Bonnie said, “but the waiting room is full of people who want to thank you, Scout. That little Amish boy, Ezra, has a big family, and apparently they’re all here.”

  “It’s like a fan club,” said the nurse.

  Serena smiled. “And I bet Aunt Miriam brought my Amish family, too. And Megan and Essie came with me, so they’ll want to see you.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Is it too late to ask for that hat?”

  She held the hat out to him. “Anytime.”

  He paused, and then shook his head. “Nah. I’m going for it.”

  The nurse pushed a chair over beside the bed so that Serena could sit near Scout, and Bonnie looked back at her son. “Should I go get your fans?”

  He pumped the fist of his uninjured arm in the air. “Bring it on.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Auction day!

  Essie had been down in the kitchen before sunrise, starting coffee, loading wood into the potbelly stove, and starting a pound of bacon sizzling for the family breakfast. While she was cooking, the day dawned cold and bright, with the mercury only in the forties. Standing at the kitchen sink, looking at the orange and purple glow on the horizon beyond the slightly frosted window, Essie suspected it would warm up to a more comfortable mid-fifties, just like yesterday.

  Soon Mem came into the kitchen to take over, pulling out a dozen eggs. Essie poured a mug of coffee, pulled a shawl over her shoulders, and carried the steaming liquid out the back door and down the path that had become exceedingly familiar in the past few weeks. Winding around the vegetable garden, she went to the back of the Dawdi House and tapped on the window.

  The green shade moved up, and Harlan’s smiling face filled the window. He unlatched it, swung the glass open, and leaned out to kiss her. The touch of his lips stole her breath away, and she gravitated toward the warmth coming from his body. He wore a long-sleeved cotton jersey shirt for sleeping, and his eyelids still had that hooded, sleepy look that made her heart melt. How she loved seeing him first thing in the morning. Soon she would wake up beside him instead of having to steal out in the cold.

  He took a sip from the mug and grunted. “Essie . . .” His amber eyes reminded her of warm honey. “That’s the most delicious cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

  She smiled. “Denki, but you say that every morning.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “Are they getting ready to go?”

  “They’re up. I’m sure they’re ironing their Sunday clothes.”

  “Well, your mem is the guest of honor.”

  “She is. Will you come along in our buggy?”

  “I will, as long as you’re not late. I want to make sure the parking attendants are in place to take care of horses and buggies.”

  “The Millers hold auctions all year long. I think they can manage the buggy parking.”

  “You’re right. I just want everything to go smoothly.”

  “Then we’ll get there early to ease your mind.” He kissed her again and started closing the window. “And when you come tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind a little bacon.”

  She tossed one end of her shawl over her shoulder and shook her head. “For that, you’ll have to wait until we’re wed.”

  His laughter was still booming in the morning air when she rounded the garden.

  * * *

  “What? Wait!” Serena gestured to the line of traffic in front of Scout’s truck. “All these people are waiting to get into the parking lot at the auction house?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “This is huge. It’s definitely going to be a success.”

  “I hope so. Medical bills can really put a family in debt, and I’d like to help the Yoders.”

  “I’ve never been to an auction before,” Serena admitted. “So they’re popular around here?”

  “They are. Probably the biggest auction of the year is the annual mud sale held in the early spring to benefit the local volunteer fire department. They call it the mud sale because the ground is usually wet and mucky that time of year.”

  “So why don’t they do it in the summer?”

  “They like to hold it in March, after the harvest and before spring planting, so that more local farmers can attend. It helps fund equipment and gear for us firefighters. But charity auctions pop up throughout the year,” Scout explained. “What time is your dad supposed to be here?” he asked as he found a parking spot a few blocks away.

  “He said around lunchtime, so we should keep an eye out for him.” Sully had promised to drive out for the auction, and then stay for dinner at the Lapp farm.

  In the distance a sea of people, Amish and English, mingled on the grounds of the auction house. The crowd was a blur punctuated by the bright colors of Amish dresses in green, blue, scarlet, peach, mint, and purple. Among the festive attendees Serena saw countless straw hats, black jackets, baseball caps, and white prayer kapps as people milled around two raised platforms, each one sporting an Amish auctioneer and a few assistants. Conversation bubbled up here and there as people checked out merchandise and ran into friends.

  “What are they auctioning over there?” Serena asked, pointing to a distant stage.

  “That will be quilts and specialty
items. The dresser you donated will probably get auctioned on that stage. The bleachers inside are usually for people bidding on livestock and horses. And over there, in that ring, they’ll be doing farm equipment.”

  “It’s such a big operation, and so well attended.”

  “Yeah. Folks in these parts love a good auction.” Scout glanced toward the tent. “They’ve got food inside. Do you want something?”

  “You’re hungry?” Serena said.

  “I could go for some roasted chicken. And then a whoopie pie for the finish.”

  “Sounds great!”

  Inside the tent, they encountered Rose Graber, who was working at the bake sale. She ran out from behind the stand to clap Scout on the back, and she made sure everyone who passed by knew that he had saved her Ezra from a devastating fire. Men and women walking by thanked Scout, mentioning that they’d seen his photo in the newspaper. Serena stood off to the side, watching with a smile as Scout received the recognition he deserved. She knew that his celebrity would eventually fade, but right now she appreciated him having time in the spotlight, which seemed to reinforce the new Scout. After this, he couldn’t go back to being a hermit.

  Rose made sure that Scout got a box of whoopie pies. After that they feasted on grilled chicken and mashed potatoes, and then strolled around some more. Serena was amused by the rapid babble of the auctioneers, calling out numbers in their sing-songy voices. Some called the auction in two languages, which she found amazing, though one language was hard enough to understand when it went that quickly.

  Serena and Scout ventured into the horse tent, where tall, silky brown horses waited in a pen to be auctioned. “They’re so beautiful,” Serena said. “Each one is tagged with a number.”

  “That’s to keep track of them,” Scout explained.

  “I know, but it would be so much better if they had their names on the tag. You know, Misty or Thunder sounds so much better than horse number 2396.”

  “True.”

  They were leaving the horse tent when they ran into Serena’s father. “Dad! You made it.”

  “Hey, honey, I’ve been looking for you. Your sisters steered me over in this direction.”

  She hugged him, working around the large pastry box in his arms. “Wow, Dad. Taking a few cookies home? Or are you eating those all today?”

  “I’m taking them back to the guys at the police station. I’ll score major points with homemade cookies.” Sully extended a hand to Scout. “I hear you’re a hero, Scout. How’re you doing?”

  They shook hands. “Doing well, sir.”

  Serena patted Scout’s shoulder. “Yeah, Dad, this is my guy.”

  “My daughter tells me great things about you,” Sully said. “And that was a spectacular save in the fire. It’s fortunate you were able to get those kids out in time.”

  “I thank God for that every day,” Scout said, and Serena smiled up at him, knowing it was true. She linked her fingers through his, so grateful to be by his side.

  “I saw your furniture on display over by the quilts,” Sully told Serena. “You did great work, honey. I’m really pleased that you’ve taken the initiative to start your own business.”

  “Starting small, and I had some help along the way,” she said.

  “But you’re producing something people need and want, in such a creative way. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Praise was not what she usually heard from her father. It used to be that she was the one lectured for getting in trouble. Well, some things had changed.

  “So listen, honey. My detective buddy made some inquiries about the man you asked about. Your friend’s father?”

  “Harlan’s father.” Serena nodded. She had asked her dad to look into Jed Yoder and see if there was a possibility that he would meet with Harlan. “Did you find him?”

  “I did. Harlan’s lead about that county in Maryland was helpful, but I’m afraid there’s some sad news.”

  “Oh, no. Wait! Don’t tell me.” Serena hadn’t been expecting Dad’s research to backfire. “Let me get Harlan here. He should hear everything from you firsthand.”

  “I’ll go get him,” Scout offered.

  Serena moved close to her father as Scout headed off. “So? What do you think of Scout? He’s amazing, right?”

  Sully rubbed his daughter’s shoulder. “Does he make you happy?”

  “All the time. He’s smart and engaging and incredibly self-deprecating. All the qualities I don’t have.”

  “And he makes you happy?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Then he’s amazing.”

  * * *

  Essie and Harlan stood in the crowd of bidders, watching Mark Miller call the bids on farm equipment. Much as Essie didn’t want to like the young man who was so hard on her good friend, she had to admit he was truly gifted as an auctioneer. He was charming, fast-talking, and handsome, for sure, and the way he bounced back and forth, calling the bids in English, then in German, and then in English again was truly remarkable. Seeing Mark in action, Essie began to understand why Sadie was drawn to him.

  And in the auction house, where Mark ran the show, Sadie was thrilled to be his girl. She watched him intently and joked with the other girls about not being able to keep up with such a fast-talking beau. Essie wanted Sadie to find her happily ever after with Mark. But Essie had also noticed Mark flirting with other girls a few times when Sadie’s back was turned. Such a difficult situation.

  Before Essie could fret too much over her friend, she was pulled away from that auction ring by Scout, who had someone she needed to talk with. “Harlan needs to come, too,” Scout said. It turned out to be Uncle Sully, who was talking with Serena and Mem. Sully seemed to tighten up a bit when he saw Harlan. Essie listened as Uncle Sully explained that Serena had given him the little she knew about Harlan’s dat, and Uncle Sully had used his police connections to get information about Jed Yoder.

  “My intention was to find him so that you two could set up a meeting,” Sully told Harlan. “But now that we’ve gotten some information, I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Your father passed away, Harlan. I’m sorry.”

  Harlan hitched his thumbs on his suspenders, taking in the news. He squinted in the distance, as if trying to swallow a bitter pill. “Did you learn anything else about him?”

  “We did. The information you had about Somerset County, Maryland, turned out to be a solid lead. He rented a trailer down there. Attended a Mennonite church when he first moved down there, but other than that, he wasn’t very active in Maryland. No job, no social life. A neighbor said Jed found it difficult to get out of the house. Seems he might have suffered from depression.”

  Harlan nodded. “He did suffer some bad spells. I don’t remember much, but Mem said he was sad much of the time.”

  “I wish I had better news for you,” said Uncle Sully.

  Harlan gave a hard nod. “I’m grateful you found the truth. Thank you. I need to tell my mem and sister. They need to hear it.” He turned to Essie, tenderness in his amber eyes, a pain she wished she could soothe.

  She could offer the comfort of her arms, and, like a salve applied every night, over time, that would be enough. Enough comfort and love.

  * * *

  Miriam said a silent prayer for Jed Yoder as Harlan and Essie went to find Harlan’s family. Such a sad moment for the family. Death was always hard to understand. But Harlan and Suzie had lived without a father for so many years; the brunt of the news would be somewhat removed for them.

  Miriam watched as Harlan searched out Collette. When she lost him in the crowd, Miriam stepped up onto an empty stage behind her and spotted him again. Harlan located his mother sitting beside Suzie at the baked goods booth. Collette bowed her head when the news broke over her. Then she turned to her daughter, who seemed to have many questions.

  Harlan left them to comfort each other and, head held high, he moved across the tent, to a group of Amish men. The bishop was extrac
ted from the huddled conversation by Harlan. Concern was plain on the bishop’s face as Harlan leaned in to tell him something. After a pause, Aaron patted the young man on the shoulder, consolingly.

  So now he knew.

  Her eyes were still on the bishop as he scanned the auction tent, searching until his gaze locked on Collette, who was talking with her daughter. Such a play of emotions on the bishop’s face as he stared at Collette: relief, restraint, tenderness.

  Life would change for Collette Yoder. She was now free to marry, and Miriam knew the perfect match for her. Miriam recalled that feeling of shock she’d felt weeks ago when she’d recognized the love between Aaron and Collette. She smiled at her silliness, thinking that love had come at the wrong place and time. She was the one who’d been wrong. To everything, there was a season, and Gott did not make mistakes.

  The crowd parted, and Alvie appeared just below the stage, a curious smile on his face as he looked up at his wife. “Are you set to auction off the next item?” he asked, teasing her.

  “I’m just keeping an eye on things,” she said, reaching out to him. He helped her down from the stage. “What are you up to, looking like the cat that got the cream?” she asked.

  “I just witnessed that Scout Tanner is very famous in Joyful River right now. I was just given a free whoopie pie simply because I’m Serena’s uncle.”

  “And where is this whoopie pie?”

  He touched his flat belly. “It was delicious.”

  Miriam nodded. “It was a wonderful thing that Scout could save Rose’s boy. And I’m grateful Scout and Serena were able to find a way back to each other. But mostly, I thank Gott that she’s found her way in the world. She’s learning the importance of love and family. All three of the English girls are learning important lessons. Do you notice how they’ve been getting along? Even supporting one another.”

  “Your sister would be quite satisfied,” Alvin said.

  “She would, may she rest in peace.”

  “So . . . one niece is on the right path. That leaves two to go.”

  Miriam chuckled. Her husband always had a way of reminding her that men and women saw the world through a different lens. “Alvie, they’re girls. We’re not breaking horses.”