Читать книгу Redeeming Grace - Emma Miller - Страница 12

Chapter Three

John finished off two slices of scrapple, two biscuits and a mound of scrambled eggs, but as much as he normally enjoyed Hannah’s cooking, he may as well have been eating his uncle’s frozen-in-a-box sausage bagels. He couldn’t take his eyes off the attractive, almost-model-thin redhead, wearing the strangest Plain clothing he’d ever seen on a woman.

Her name was Grace. A pretty name for a pretty girl. He knew he would have remembered her if he’d ever seen her before. She was obviously related to the Yoders; she looked like Hannah’s girls. From the attention she was giving the boy, she was probably his mother or at least his aunt. He didn’t look like the Yoders, though. And the two of them sure didn’t look Amish. So why had they spent the night here?

John was Mennonite, and among his people, staying in the homes of total strangers who shared the same faith was commonplace. Mennonites could travel all over the world and always be certain of a warm welcome from friendly hosts, whether it was for a weekend or a month. But the Amish were a people apart and rarely mingled socially with outsiders, who they called Englishers.

“‘Come out from among them and be separate.’” 2 Corinthian 6:14. It was a verse that John had heard quoted many times since he’d come to join his uncle’s and grandfather’s veterinary practice. Because he specialized in large farm animals, many of his clients were Old Order Amish. Mennonites and Amish shared many of the same principles, and because he’d come close to marrying a Yoder daughter, he’d gotten to know the Amish in a way that few Englishers did.

Who was this mystery woman with such a haunting look of vulnerability? And what was so important about Grace’s visit that Hannah—who never missed school—had taken the day off from teaching? John couldn’t wait to get one of the Yoders alone and find out.

He lingered as long as he could at the table, having more coffee, eating when he wasn’t really hungry and trying his best to engage Grace in conversation. But either she didn’t answer or gave only one-word responses to his questions, intriguing him even further.

Eventually, he ran out of excuses to sit at Hannah’s table and glanced at his watch. “I hate to leave such good company,” he said, “but I have an appointment out at Rob Miller’s farm.” Repeating his thanks and wishing the others a good day, he gave Grace one last smile, and left the kitchen.

Hannah followed him out onto the porch, carefully closing the door behind her. “Well, what do you think?” she asked, drying her clean hands on her apron. “Of our visitor?”

He wondered whether to play it safe and be polite or to be himself. Himself won. “Um...she’s nice. Pretty.” He met her gaze. “But, Hannah, I’m confused. Grace isn’t Amish, is she?”

“Ne, John, that she isn’t.”

“A friend of the family from out of town?”

“None of us had ever laid eyes on her until last night. She came to us out of the storm, soaked to the skin and near to exhaustion. She’d been hitchhiking.”

“Pretty dangerous for a young woman,” he observed, not sure where the conversation was going.

John could tell that Hannah was pondering something, and that she wanted to talk, yet the Amish tradition of intense privacy remained strong. John waited. Either she would share her concerns or she wouldn’t. No amount of nudging would budge her if she wanted to be secretive.

But then Hannah blurted right out, “Grace is my late husband’s daughter.”

“Jonas’s daughter?” John stared at her in disbelief. He’d never heard that Jonas had been married before. “Jonas was married—”

“Jonas and Grace’s mother never married. She ran away from the church. Jonas never knew she was in the family way.”

John couldn’t have been more shocked if a steer had been sitting at Hannah’s table this morning. For a moment he didn’t know what to say. Jonas Yoder had been one of the most genuinely kind and decent men he had ever known. It just didn’t seem to fit that Jonas would... “You’re certain this isn’t a scam of some kind?” He couldn’t imagine that the young woman he’d met inside could do anything dishonest, but Uncle Albert had often told him that he was naive when it came to seeing who or what people truly were. “She’s not trying to get anything from you? Money or something?”

“She’s asked for nothing. She came here looking for Jonas and I had to tell her he’d passed.”

Poor Grace, he thought. How terrible for her. But how terrible for Hannah, too. Not just to hear this news, to learn the awful truth about her beloved husband, but to have to tell his child that he was dead.

“I...believe the girl is who she says she is,” Hannah admitted, going on slowly. “Jonas told me...confided to me his affection for her mother, Trudie. Jonas was under the impression they were courting, then Trudie left the church and her family and disappeared. Jonas never knew anything about a baby. I would suspect her family didn’t, either.”

“It’s possible, I suppose.” John glanced out into the farmyard, feeling so badly for Hannah. Not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. This kind of thing was a delicate matter. Unwed young Amish women occasionally got pregnant, but it didn’t happen often. And when it did, there was repentance, then a quick wedding and the matter was settled. “She has the same color hair as your girls.”

“And Jonas’s blue eyes.”

John glanced toward the kitchen door, picturing again the guarded expression in the young woman’s gaze. “I thought there was something familiar about her. She favors Johanna, not as tall, and she’s a lot thinner, but...”

“Too thin by my way of thinking, but Miriam was always slender, too.”

John nodded. It hadn’t been easy, coming to accept losing Miriam. But after two years, he could see her or hear her name without feeling as though a horse had kicked him in the gut. And he could see that she’d made the right decision. She wouldn’t have been happy leaving the Amish, so as much as he hated to admit it, Charley was right for her.

“How do you feel about Grace coming here?” he asked. “It must be a shock to you.”

“Ya, a shock. It...is. My Jonas was as capable of making a mistake as any of us. As much as I loved and respected him...” She shrugged. “A bishop, my Jonas was, but I knew him to be a man first. His girls think him perfect.” She chuckled. “And the longer he’s dead, the more perfect he becomes.”

John grinned. “That happens a lot, and not just in your family. My mother and father didn’t always see eye to eye, but once he died, Mom promoted him to sainthood.”

Hannah laced her fingers together. “Whatever Jonas’s faults, he repented of them and asked God’s forgiveness every day. When he passed, he left me the means to care for his children and myself and nothing but good memories.” She walked down the steps and into the sunshine.

John followed her, giving her a moment before he spoke again. “You are the most remarkable person, Hannah Yoder. Most women would have been furious or so hurt, so bitter that they couldn’t have considered inviting the girl into their home.”

“Ne.” She shook her head and slowly slid down to sit on the top step of the porch. “I am not remarkable, only numb, like after you hit your thumb with a hammer. Before the pain starts.”

“But you didn’t take it out on Grace. That’s what matters. You had compassion for a stranger.”

“Why should I blame her? None of this is Grace’s fault. She’s innocent. I need to remember that. My girls will look to me to see how to treat her, as will the community.”

“I’m just saying, as your friend, that you have a right to be upset.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Her coming here changes your family. Forever.”

“And her,” Hannah said. “I don’t believe she has had an easy life. Her mother died when she was a child.”

“So she’s left without a mother or a father?” No wonder she had the look of a lost puppy, he thought. But then, he corrected himself. Not a puppy, but a feral kitten, wanting so badly to be loved, but ready to scratch to defend itself. “So now that she’s here, what are you going to do with her?”

Hannah frowned ever so gently. “Honestly, John, I have no idea.”

* * *

Later, after John left and the breakfast dishes were cleared away and Rebecca and Jonah had left for the other sister’s house, Grace watched as Johanna settled at the kitchen table with a pile of quilting pieces. Her daughter sat beside her, playing with her own squares of cloth. Just as the night before, Johanna seemed stiff and reserved. Grace couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day a stranger showed up claiming to be a long-lost sister. Katie, however, was all dimples and giggling personality in her Amish dress, apron and white cap.

“How old are you?” Grace asked the child.

“Drei!” Katie held up three fingers.

“My goodness, you’re a big girl for three,” Grace said. She and Dakota were the same age, but Katie was nearly a head taller and much sturdier. Shyly, her son hid behind her skirt and peered out at Katie. “Come out and meet Katie,” she said, taking his hand. She squatted down so that she was closer in size to the two of them. “Katie, this is Dakota.”

He stared at her, and Grace ruffled his hair. No matter how much she slicked it down, his coarse Indian hair insisted on sticking up like the straw in a scarecrow. No wonder Joe had grown his long and braided it. “Say hello,” she urged her son.

“’Lo,” he managed. Grace could tell that he wanted to play with Katie. Since she’d had to pull him out of day care back in Nebraska, Dakota had missed his friends.

Katie put a finger in her mouth and stared back.

“She doesn’t speak English very well yet,” Hannah said, walking into the kitchen. “But she understands it. Most children learn when they start school, but Jonas always insisted that we use both English and Pennsylvania Dutch at home, so the girls wouldn’t feel uncomfortable among the Englishers.” She looked at Johanna. “I know you need to get to your quilt, but if you, Grace and Susanna could hang out the wash, I can get that turkey in the oven.” She glanced at Grace. “I hope you don’t mind. We all pitch in to do the housework.”

“Sure,” Grace said. “I’ll be glad to help. Tell me what to do.”

“I’m just glad we’ve got sun and a good breeze,” Hannah said. “We’re expecting company this afternoon, and I’ve washed all the sheets. If it had kept raining, they would have been a mess to get dry.”

“Right,” Grace mused. “No electric dryer.” Then she considered what Hannah had just said and started to get nervous. About her new plan: plan B. “You’re getting company? I guess I picked a bad time to show up here.”

“Ne,” Hannah said. “It’s a big house. Friends of ours, the Roman Bylers, have relatives moving here from Indiana. Sadie and Ebben King bought the little farm down the road from us. They’ll be part of our church. Two of their sons and a daughter, all married, live here in Kent County, so they decided it was time to move east. They’ll be staying with us until the repairs are done and they get a new roof on.”

Grace wanted to ask why the Kings were staying with the Yoders instead of their own relatives, but she thought it better to keep her questions to herself. She didn’t want to be rude.

“They have one boy left at home,” Hannah continued. “David. He’s their youngest. He’s like our Susanna. Special.”

It took Grace a second to realize what Hannah meant. The son must have Down syndrome like Susanna. She nodded in understanding.

“Get those wet sheets, Johanna?” Hannah asked.

Minutes later, Dakota and Katie were happily playing together under Hannah’s watchful eye in the kitchen, while Grace, Susanna and Johanna hung laundry on the clothesline in the backyard.

As Grace hung a wet sheet on the line running between two poles, she took in her surroundings. It seemed almost too good to be true to Grace. The white house, the wide green lawn with carefully tended flower beds, and not a car or TV antenna in sight. The only sounds she heard were the breeze rustling through the tree branches, the creak of the windmill blades and the joyous song of a mockingbird.

Johanna, her mouth full of clothespins, was intent on attaching a row of dresses—blue, lavender and green dresses—while Susanna and Grace hung items from an overflowing basket of towels and sheets. Grace eyed the dresses and aprons wistfully. Today she’d put on a clean blouse from her bag, but she didn’t have another long skirt or apron so she’d had to put the same ones on again. Susanna and Johanna both wore modest Amish dresses in different shades of blue with white aprons and stiff white caps. Grace felt foolish with her men’s handkerchief tied over her hair, but no one had mentioned it, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought.

Susanna hummed as she worked, but her older sister was clearly out of sorts. After a while, Grace took a deep breath and peered over the clothesline at Johanna. “I don’t blame you,” she said in a low voice.

Silence.

“I can see how it would be upsetting,” Grace went on. “Me coming here.”

Johanna reached down for a boy’s pair of blue trousers. “If you must know, I’m not sure I believe you. I don’t want to see my mother hurt.”

Grace felt her cheeks burning. She’d expected her stepmother to be the one who would try to deny her, not a sister. Not that Grace had even expected a sister. She’d never allowed herself to think any further than finding her father and hoping he’d claim her. Oh, there had been a family in the background in her daydreams, sort of a shadowy idea of younger brothers, but never in a million years had she considered that she’d find seven sisters.

And Johanna had been a surprise. She and Johanna looked so much alike, almost like twins, although Grace was shorter and skinnier. It was weird to Grace, seeing a stranger who looked so much like the face she saw in the mirror every time she brushed her teeth. And their light auburn hair, a shade you didn’t often see, was exactly the same color that Marg had said that Grace’s father’s had been.

“Trudie’s man was a ginger-haired, blue-eyed Amish hottie,” Marg had told her.

Grace was so sorry she’d never get the chance to meet Jonas. It wasn’t fair. But when had life ever been fair to her?

“Think what you want about me,” Grace said stubbornly to Johanna. “I’m here, and I’m just as much Jonas’s daughter as you are.”

“Maybe,” Johanna said. “That remains to be seen.”

“What are you arguing about?” Susanna demanded, pulling the clothesline down so she could see them over a row of towels. “Don’t be mean, Johanna.”

“I’m not being mean.”

“Are, too.” Susanna planted her chubby hand on one hip and stuck out her chin. “Mam said be nice to Grace. She’s our sister.”

“She might be our sister, but she might not, Susanna Banana. She might be a stranger just pretending to be our sister.”

Susanna shook her head. “I like her, and I like Dakota.”

“But what if she’s trying to trick us, just saying she’s our sister?” Johanna argued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Susanna said firmly. “Maybe God wanted her to come here. She needs us.” Her head bobbed. “Ya, and maybe we need her. It doesn’t matter if she’s a real sister. She can be one, if we want her to, can’t she?”

Grace turned toward Susanna as tears gathered in her eyes. “Thank you,” she managed, before dashing across the grass and back into the house. She wanted to go into her room, to fling herself on the bed, shut the door and try to reason this all out. She didn’t trust herself to talk to Hannah or anyone else until she’d regained her composure.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked as Grace came in the back door.

Grace rubbed at her eyes and sniffed. “Nothing. Must be allergic to something.”

“Ya,” Hannah agreed. “Must be.”

“This is hard,” Grace admitted, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“It is going to be hard for all of us. Maybe Johanna most of all.” She glanced at the two children who were busily sorting wooden animals in a toy ark in the center of the floor. “Come with me.” She motioned, and Grace followed her into what appeared to be a big pantry off the kitchen. “So the children won’t hear,” she said quietly. “Don’t be too quick to judge Johanna. She has a good heart, but she’s had a hard time these last few years. She is a widow, too. Did you know?”

Grace shook her head. “No.” So Johanna had lost her man, too? It was creepy how much alike they were. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“He was sick...in his mind,” Hannah explained. “Wilmer took his own life. Johanna couldn’t manage their farm on her own, so she came home to live with us. For a long time, things were not good with her and Wilmer, and she finds it hard to trust people.”

Grace nodded. “I can understand that.”

“The two of you have common ground,” Hannah said. “You both have small children that you love. It’s a place to start, ne?”

“Maybe.” Grace sighed. “But why can’t she be like Susanna and just accept me for who I am?”

Hannah smiled. “We should all be like our Susanna. She is one of God’s special people. She was born with a heart overflowing with joy.”

“You believe me, don’t you? That I’m Jonas’s daughter?”

The older woman hesitated only a second. “Ya, I do.”

“Then...” She peered into Hannah’s eyes, thinking about plan B. This was it. This was her opportunity to speak up. “Can we stay—at least for a little while? I won’t be a burden, I promise. I’ll get a job and pay room and board, and I’ll pitch in like everyone else.” She glanced at her feet, then raised her head, her eyes wet with tears. “But I need to be here.”

“You can stay as long as you like.”

Grace looked into Hannah’s eyes. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth last night. About coming here.”

The older woman’s face didn’t change.

“I did come here to find my father. To meet him. But also...” She thought of Dakota and the life she’d led, the life she didn’t want for her son. That was what gave her the strength to spit it out. “I came to Seven Poplars to tell my father that I want to be Amish. Like him.”

Hannah looked away. “Oh my, Grace.” She sighed.

“It’s not impossible, is it?” Grace went on. “Especially because my father—and technically Trudie— were Amish?”

Hannah turned back to her and smiled wryly. “It’s not so easy. Sometimes Englishers say they want to be like us, but the world calls to them, too loudly.”

“I’ve seen the world,” Grace insisted. “It’s too loud.”

Again Hannah smiled. And this time she patted Grace’s arm. “Best you stay awhile and see if this is the life for you before you make big decisions like that. But whatever you choose, you and Dakota will still be family.”

“But I’ve already thought about this for a long time.” Grace tried not to sound whiny like Dakota sometimes did. Now that she had plan B straight in her head, she wanted to put it into place. “Being Amish feels right.”

“First, you live with us and see how you like it. See if it still feels right to you once you’ve walked in our shoes. In time, if you still think this is the life you would choose, we’ll talk to the bishop and see what he says. But first, you must learn gelassenheit, the ability to submit your will to that of the elders, the church and the community.”

“I will! I’ll do anything you say, if only you won’t turn us away.”

Hanna studied Grace closely. “Can you turn your back on the world? Can you give up your automobiles, your television programs, your telephones and live a Plain life?”

“I can. I promise you that that’s what I want.”

Hannah took her hands. “Then we will try, together. And may the Lord help and guide us every step of the way.”