Grace brushed her teeth again, then headed downstairs to somehow set the gossips straight without coming out and saying she was not pregnant. That just wasn’t spoken of except in whispers to trusted family members. The loose dresses hid—for the most part—the shape of a woman’s body.
Mamm was on her way up, and they met in the middle. “What is going on? I’m hearing whispers that you—”
“Let’s go to my room.” Grace grabbed Mamm’s hand and tugged her upstairs. Once there, Grace shut the door. Her back twinged as she twisted it.
Mamm’s forehead was wrinkled, her lips curved down. “Gracie, I simply cannot believe you would do such a thing. Timothy—”
“I didn’t. I’m not in the family way. Timothy and I, we never…” Grace’s face heated. “It’s Zeke. He, I mean—”
“What!” Mamm’s eyebrows shot up.
Okay, never mind heated. Grace’s face burned. “No. I mean I might have developed a crush on Zeke. I know nothing will come of it, so no reason to send him away. I’ll marry Timothy…” She gulped. “If he’s alive. If he shows up.”
Mamm smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Jah. But the thought made Grace’s blood pressure rise. And not in a good way. “But I might have flirted with Zeke and then I felt guilty, and between falling down the stairs and the coffee Erma gave me, everything mixed wrong, and well, I got sick.”
Mamm’s expression cleared. “Sarah Jane made the coffee. She gets way too many grounds in it. But don’t tell her I said that. I’m surprised more don’t get sick from it. Don’t worry. I’ll set the gossips straight.” She glanced around the room. “You need to take a moment and straighten your room; then make sure the boys’ beds are made. I’ll have the misunderstanding cleared up by the time you finish.”
Grace hoped so. It would be beyond terrible if that gossip spread further than the kitchen. She couldn’t imagine what Zeke might think. Maybe that she was more than a flirt—that she was also very loose. Easy. She shuddered.
Mamm gave Grace a gentle hug and bustled from the room. Moving slowly, due to her aches and pains, Grace made the bed that she and Patience shared and picked up Patience’s discarded nightgown, folded it, and placed it under the pillow. Patience normally took care of things, but she must’ve been excited to get downstairs, too.
The room straightened, she went down the hall to her brother’s room. It was clean, nothing out of place.
Then she peeked into the room Zeke and Vernon were staying in. They’d been in a rush. Both twin beds were jumbled, tangled messes, and the contents of both men’s bags lay strewn across the room, divided by a swath of bare floor in the middle.
Grace made the beds but hesitated to touch their personal belongings. It’d be wiser to let them pick up their dirty socks and other garments themselves.
She went down the hall to the room across from hers—the bathroom. She took a couple of pain pills, then looked around. That was clean. The towels Zeke and the others had used were dropped in the hamper, and there was a kind of manly piney scent lingering in the room.
She hadn’t noticed when she was in there earlier. But then she’d only been focused on herself. And when she was in his arms, she’d thought it was part of her dream.
Maybe she could find a candle with that scent. To remind her of him.
It was time to stop hiding. Hopefully, Mamm had quieted the rumors.
Grace firmed her shoulders and, careful not to move any unnecessary muscles, returned downstairs. She entered the bustling kitchen. Uninterrupted chatter continued, but at least no one whispered behind cupped hands. Someone had discarded Grace’s barely touched cup of coffee, and everyone did chores that were assigned by one person—typically bossy, take-charge Deborah Fisher.
Deborah wasn’t there. She was related to Toby, though, so she’d be at visitation.
Hallie would be there, too.
Grace gulped. Should she go to support her friend? Or stay home for the barn raising?
Mamm came in from outside carrying an empty tray in one hand and a plastic dishpan full of dirty glasses against her hip. Patience stood at the sink, washing dishes. And sniffling.
She glanced over her shoulder at Grace and lifted her hands from the suds. Dripping, she rushed to Grace and wrapped her warm, wet arms around her. “You not in way, Gracie.”
Grace returned her hug. “I…” What was Patience talking about?
Erma caught her gaze and, with a sheepish smile, mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
Oh. Patience had heard the rumors. And misunderstood.
Grace tightened her grip on her sister. “Danki, Patience.”
Patience smiled brightly and returned to the sink.
The door opened and Gracie’s other best friend, Elsie, poked her head in. “Gracie, my family is here for the barn raising. Daed said I could go to the visitation if you go with me. I think we need to be there for Hallie.”
Grace sighed. “I’ll ask.” Hopefully, Mamm would agree.
Mamm had returned outside sometime while Grace and Patience were hugging, so Grace hurried to join her friend in the yard. Mamm was arranging more breakfast burritos on a tray. A man snatched one as she worked.
“May I go with Elsie to the visitation?” Grace stopped beside her.
Mamm waved her hand in a shooing motion. “Go on. We have plenty of help here for now. Try to be back in time to help with the noon meal.”
“Danki, Mamm.” Grace hurried after Elsie to the buggy her family had brought. She scanned the skeleton of the future barn, looking for Zeke, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Of course, men clung from every beam already in place, and some men were perched on the eventual roof. Zeke could’ve been any one of them working at dangerous heights.
Daed crouched beside one of his four-year-old grandsons, showing him how to use a hammer.
And oh, wait. Zeke stood next to Daadi Cliff and Vernon, talking to two men Grace didn’t know. Zeke’s eyes locked on hers for a brief moment; then he deliberately looked away.
Oh, her heart. What had she done?
* * *
Zeke tried not to watch Gracie walk with her friend to a closed buggy. Tried being the key word. His gaze kept drifting to her as he listened to the Mennonite missionaries explaining the ABCs of salvation: Admit you have sinned, believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and confess with your mouth. All things from scripture he had thought about or that he and Cliff had discussed.
All things they had done at one time or another, though Zeke had never thought to pray and ask Gott to save him.
“The truth is once you believe the promises of God, you not only have hope—your life is forever changed,” one of the missionaries said.
“I think I’d like to pray.” Cliff bowed his head.
Jah. Zeke wanted to, also.
“Repeat after me,” the same missionary said, closing his eyes.
Zeke bowed his head with the others and silently repeated the prayer the missionary uttered.
Peace, or something, fluttered to life inside Zeke. Filled him. He couldn’t keep from smiling.
Not even Gracie and her issues could dampen his thoughts…
He took in a deep breath. Okay, maybe they could affect his smile but not this new, amazing peace that settled deep within him despite the outside turmoil.
Lord, danki for saving me. Help me to minister to Gracie as I should. And help Timothy to be found alive.
A rock settled in the pit of his stomach. But Timothy should be the one to raise his own child, if she was in the family way. But wow, it hurt. He might be a fool for believing she was as attracted to him as he was to her and that her stories about Timothy were true…He exhaled. Then he would be a fool. He needed to be her friend.
Help Gracie to find happiness and peace with her situation. He sighed. Help me to find peace with it, too.
Zeke thanked the missionaries and returned to work. Most of the Amish hadn’t paid any attention to them being gone. But of course, except for Cliff, they were strangers. Zeke reached for a beam to swing himself back up, but Cliff grasped Zeke’s arm. There was peace in his eyes, too. “Want to go visiting with me tomorrow? I need to look for that boy.”
So Cliff felt the same burden with Patience’s not-so-welcome news.
“I heard that someone who resembles Timothy was seen in town,” Zeke said quietly. “They weren’t sure if it was him or not.”
A strange light flashed in Cliff’s eyes. “Oh, it’s him. I’m sure of it.”
* * *
The field near Toby’s haus had about a dozen buggies parked in it. But people would be coming and going the rest of the day and the next for visitation. A church bench wagon was parked in the driveway. The family must’ve borrowed benches from another district.
Grace trailed Elsie into the haus and filed past Toby’s body, looking at him one last time. She and Elsie murmured condolences to his parents; then they went to sit down beside Hallie, one on each side of her. Hallie’s icy fingers closed around Grace’s, and a strange sort of gasping sob escaped.
Grace shifted closer to her friend as Timothy’s parents came in, their eyes red rimmed. His mamm openly wailed as she viewed Toby’s body, then embraced Toby’s mamm. She was still crying when she sat on the other side of Grace and murmured, “Horrible, horrible, horrible.”
Grace gulped and grasped Lavina’s hand with her free one. “No word yet?”
“Nothing. It’s like Timothy vanished into thin air,” Lavina sniffled.
Which was kind of what he did, getting sucked up in a tornado.
“And Peter is hovering between death and life. He hasn’t woken up from his coma yet. Maybe never will.”
Grace had nothing to say to that. She squeezed Lavina’s hand. And Hallie’s.
They fell into silence, except for sniffles and an occasional sob.
Grace glanced at Toby’s body in the casket, then closed her eyes to pray for Toby’s soul. Then her prayers wandered from him to Peter and his family, to Hallie and her comfort, to closure for Timothy’s family, to Zeke.
Oh, Zeke.
Danki, Lord, for bringing him into my life. Please heal our relationship that I messed up by being impulsive, and if it’s Your will—she pulled in a breath—please open the doors for us to be together.
Though that was an impossible dream.
As impossible as Timothy walking in the backdoor.
And then he did.
Maybe.