Two months later
Martha and Eli sat in a booth at JoJo’s, enjoying a fresh pretzel and hot chocolate. The day was blustery and quite cold—exactly like December should be. Martha found that she wasn’t dreading the shorter days or the wintry weather. In fact, she was looking forward to it. Winter brought its own joys, like time for quilting, preparation for Christmas, and buggy rides through the snow-covered town with the man sitting across from her.
“So it’s final?” she asked. “The objects will all be placed in the historical society office?”
“On display for all to see. Hopefully folks will better appreciate the connections between the Potawatomi, Amish, and Englisch people.”
“Reading those letters—it was better than any mystery or romance novel. It was like actually seeing into the lives and hearts of our ancestors.”
Eli nodded. “It’s a rare gift.”
“The coins—”
“From the Englisch.”
“Necklace—”
“Made by the Potawatomi.”
“And Bible—”
“Which we know belonged to an Amish family.”
“Treasure—for sure and certain.”
Eli sipped from his hot chocolate, and then he leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner and said, “The mayor, she says that we’ll have even more tourists than ever, come to see the time capsule.”
“Which means we’ll have even more people at the auction.” Martha popped a piece of pretzel into her mouth.
“Maybe so.”
“Could be I’ll need help in the office.”
“That’s why I got you the kitten.”
“The kitten is for everyone, Eli. I’m sure that Socks has already upped our production.”
Eli grunted at that, but he smiled at her as he stood and reached for her hand. “I spoke with Jeremiah this morning,” Eli said.
“How is Duncan?”
“Turns out the lad has a real skill with woodwork. Jeremiah has decided to hire him on full-time.”
“The map—it led Duncan back to Shipshe, to the life he was meant to live.”
“I supposed Gotte did that, but the map helped.”
They walked outside into the blustery day, and Martha marveled at what God had done in her life in so little time. She still loved Melvin. She always would. She and Eli had talked about that.
He’d explained to her his heartbreak as a lad of seventeen, how he’d grown used to being alone, how he’d convinced himself that marrying wasn’t a part of God’s plan for him. They both had scars, but the wounds themselves had healed, and what remained was a map of its own sort—one chronicling the ups and downs of life.
“How’s the dress coming?” he teased.
“Nearly done. Aenti Irene is working on it today.”
“Is the medicine helping with her blood-sugar problems?”
“It is. The doctor said she might have had diabetes for several years without realizing it, and certainly it explains her erratic moods. Now that she’s taking the insulin, she’s like a different person.”
Eli squeezed her hand, and Martha could feel the warmth spread all the way to her heart. After they’d found the time capsule, Eli had asked her to dinner to celebrate. They’d begun to walk each Saturday on the Pumpkinvine Trail, and he always sought her out on Sundays—whether it was a church day or not. Somehow in only two short months, he’d become an integral part of her life. He made her laugh again, and he said that she made him feel younger and more content than he ever had before.
“She still seems okay?” he asked. “With us marrying?”
“When I told her, it was the first time she hugged me. Aenti has kept to herself for so long that she’s forgotten how much better it is to share our burdens with one another—our burdens and our joys.”
“She’s part of the community again.”
“I think she’s actually looking forward to moving.”
“The dawdi haus at my place hasn’t been lived in for some time. It will be gut to have her there.”
“And she’ll have enough money to last her, now that the sale of the farm to Simon Miller has gone through.”
They made an unusual family—a confirmed bachelor, widowed woman, and crotchety old aunt. But sometimes families were unusually shaped—patched together by God’s omnipotent hand.
In many ways, life resembled a mystery.
And this time, Martha was quite satisfied by the way it was solved.