Epilogue

December . . .

 

“It’s snowing,” Mary Aaron said as she walked into Rachel’s mother’s kitchen. She was wearing a navy-blue dress with a matching navy apron, black wool stockings, and her white kapp.

Of course, two days ago, Rachel had seen her in jeans and a sweater, a headband in her hair. Her cousin was still finding her way, and the whole family was trying to be as supportive as they could. No one wanted Mary Aaron to leave the faith, Rachel least of all, but they all knew they needed to give her time, and trust her to make the right decision. At least that’s what Rachel kept telling her aunt and uncle.

“I left my boots by the back door,” Mary Aaron told Rachel. “Didn’t want to track snow all over your clean floor.”

“A little snow, what could it hurt with this mob?” Rachel’s mother went to Mary Aaron and hugged her. “Your mother? How is she?”

“Good,” Mary Aaron said. “She and Dat went to visit Alan’s girlfriend’s family. It looks serious between them, and you know my mother has been pushing for more grandchildren. Wanting to know when Alan’s marrying, when I’m marrying.”

Rachel chuckled as she took a cast-iron pan of biscuits out of the oven. “That sounds familiar.” She was eager to return to her own home, and eager to be part of the B&B again, but she would miss many things about being in the heart of her childhood home.

“Does that mean us?” Evan asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at the biscuits. “I can assure you, Mother Mast, it’s not my fault we haven’t given you one or two. Rachel’s the one who’s dragging her feet.”

Rachel turned back to the stove, certain that the warmth in her face wasn’t all from the oven. She swatted at him with one of the hot mitts she pulled off her hand and he retreated. It was so good to have Evan back in her life every day, and so good to see her mother’s health making such steady improvement. She’d finished her last round of chemo and her doctors had declared her cancer-free. Rachel wasn’t naïve; she knew the cancer might return, but for now, they had much to be thankful for.

Rachel’s father and the boys came into the kitchen and took their places at the table. Their dat wasn’t in his usual place at the head of the table, though. He’d given that spot to John Miller, who was becoming more a member of their family with each passing day. But no one was taking her mother’s seat at the opposite end of the table. As her energy returned and color came back into her cheeks, Esther Mast had taken back the reins of the household.

The following morning, Rachel would be returning to Stone Mill House for good. With her mam herself again, there was no reason for Rachel to remain here at the farm any longer. And since John and his dogs were temporarily installed in the downstairs bedroom, the house was fairly crowded again. Her mother and Ada had hotly contested which of them would take John into their home, but Esther had won out, because John wouldn’t come without his dogs. That, and Rachel’s father had insisted that, come spring, it would only take a little work to set the grossdaddi house in order. The two-room log dwelling sat only a few hundred feet from the Mast farmhouse, far enough away to give John his privacy, but close enough to make him part of life here.

It turned out that John still had a fine herd of Southdown sheep, a breed that Rachel’s father had long wanted to raise. John had seventy years of experience, and by bringing his herd to the Mast farm, he would ensure that he wouldn’t have to sit idly in a rocking chair and be dependent on the family’s charity.

“There is no talk of charity,” Rachel’s mother had declared, ending the contest between her and Ada over where John would live, before it came to blows. “John saved Rachel and Mary Aaron’s lives. And my grandmother on my mother’s side was a Miller. I’m sure we’re as much kin as you are, if we were to track it back,” she’d told Rachel’s housekeeper. “John comes to us.”

John had protested being uprooted from his farm, but not wholeheartedly. With Buddy lost to him and Duck and Wynter behind bars, he was ready to make the move. He knew he couldn’t live alone so far from others in the community any longer. And in the months since he’d come, Rachel had come to value his wisdom and good-heartedness. He and her father hit it off at once. Her dat had lost his own father years ago, and he still missed having an older man to confide in. John Miller had fit into their lives as comfortably as an old shoe.

“Is that turkey ready?” Rachel’s father asked. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” her mother replied. “Girls.” She clapped her hands and Amanda and Lettie hurried to bring the salads and the bowls of mashed potatoes and vegetables while Rachel brought the biscuits to the table. Mary Aaron got the ham from the refrigerator and her mam got the butter and pickles.

“Any more trips coming up?” Rachel’s father asked Evan.

He shook his head and winked at Rachel. “No, sir. I’m not going anywhere again without Rachel. I’m afraid she’ll get into trouble without me.”

“Amen to that,” Esther declared. “And it’s time the two of you stopped sock-footing around and set a wedding date.”

“Mam!” Rachel protested. They had, actually. The previous night. She and Evan just hadn’t announced it yet.

“Actually, we have set a date,” Evan said.

Rachel looked at him and raised a finger to her lips. “But we’re not saying when.”

“You two!” Mary Aaron laughed.

“Come on, everyone,” Rachel’s mother said, motioning to them. “Let us break bread together.”

Rachel and Evan exchanged looks. He smiled and she smiled back at him. Soon they would be building their own traditions, starting their own family rooted in love and faith. It wouldn’t be the way either of them had been raised, but together they would find a path that was best for them. She took her place at the children’s table beside her sister Sally.

Samuel closed his eyes, lowering his head to begin the time of silent prayer.

“Wait, Samuel,” her mam said. And she turned in her chair to face the children’s table. “Rachel, come join us. Squeeze right in there on the bench between Lettie and Evan.”

Rachel stared at her mother. “You mean . . .” Tears filled her eyes. “You want me to sit with you?”

“Ya, daughter, it’s been long enough, don’t you think?”

Their gazes locked, and Rachel saw the love in her mother’s eyes that she’d always known was there.

“You are part of this family, and you will always be,” her mam said. “Come, sit here with me, where you belong. And be quick about it before the biscuits get cold.”