The wind whipped brown leaves across the Brennemans’ yard as Lovina checked the hanging laundry and found it was dry. She unpinned several dresses and laid them across her arm as she moved down the line. Her grandchildren’s voices echoed as they played in the sandbox and play area on the far side of the house.
A gate clanged and rattled, and Lovina looked in that direction. Skylar held open the gate to the pasture as Salome pushed a wheelbarrow of compost out of the field and toward the garden area behind the house. Neither looked happy, and neither was talking. Isaac had paired them as chore partners today, and they were doing some gardening—harvesting and prewinter prep—while keeping an eye on Salome’s children.
Her daughters couldn’t be more of a mismatch. Skylar wore jeans and a sweatshirt with the name of her college stamped in bold letters across it, and Salome looked to be an exemplary Amish woman. But how Salome looked or acted didn’t reflect how she felt. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have planned for Quill to help her abscond during the night with her husband and children.
Dogs barked in the distance, and cows mooed as if they were uneasy. The men and her eldest grandson were gleaning feed corn from Englisch fields that machines had already harvested. Usually they picked up enough leftover cobs to feed the horses through the winter.
Lovina tried to reel in her meandering thoughts. She returned to getting clothes off the line even though her heart was as heavy as the laundry. Mondays were laundry days in these parts. All Amish knew that. But here she was on a Saturday afternoon standing at the clothesline for any passerby to see. Then the Amish community would have more gossip to add to the rumor mill.
She wasn’t sure she cared anymore what people outside her immediate family thought. What anyone believed wasn’t the problem. Truth was the problem, and the truth was that Lovina had failed her family.
What Mamm doubted that a newborn was hers and yet didn’t fight to uncover the truth? What Amish woman couldn’t keep her home in order, couldn’t do laundry on the right day, because worry and grief had come her way? And what good Christian failed to seek wisdom and to use patience before searching for the truth?
Lift up your eyes unto the hills.
Lovina immediately looked to the hills at the horizon, longing for insight and a whisper of God’s wisdom to her heart. She neither saw nor felt anything helpful—just the eerie beauty of half-barren tree limbs swaying in the wind as they were entering a deep winter sleep.
Suddenly loud barks pierced Lovina’s thoughts.
“Esther!” Salome screamed. “Run! Dabber schpring!” Salome thundered toward her children. “James! Henry! Get behind a tree!”
One glance informed Lovina of everything—the gate to the pasture was open, and the dogs were chasing the Holsteins. As the cows rushed through the gate, they gained momentum. Lovina threw the clean clothes at the basket and took off running. The herd was headed straight for the children’s play area.
Lovina urged her aging body to go faster. Why was she going in this direction? Stop! Go the other way! But her body didn’t listen, and she kept running toward the front of the house.
Skylar seemed frozen, and Lovina cupped her hands around her mouth. “Skylar!” She pointed behind her daughter at several cows that were heading straight for her. “Get behind a tree!”
Skylar flailed her hands heavenward as if she had no idea what Lovina had said. Had Lovina spoken in Pennsylvania Dutch? Lovina pointed. “The tree. Get behind it or climb it!”
Skylar sprinted, but she seemed to be heading away from the closest tree. Should Lovina go after her? Maybe. But her legs kept going toward the front of the house. Soon four-year-old Esther was in sight, running as fast as her little legs could go. She was ten feet ahead of the first cows, red faced and losing ground. Although exhausted, Lovina somehow ran faster, grabbed the girl’s hand, and dragged her around the corner to the front of the house. Gasping for air, she lifted her granddaughter and held tight, flattening her back against the house. The cows thundered past them, dogs still barking and chasing.
Where was six-year-old James? And eight-year-old Henry?
“James!” Salome screeched.
Time seemed to move in slow motion as terrifying thoughts whirled in Lovina’s head. Where was Katie Ann, Salome’s two-month-old? Surely she was safe in her bed, sound asleep, and not on a blanket in the yard. Lovina’s heart thudded, and her wobbly legs threatened to melt to the ground, but she stayed upright. “Bischt allrecht, Liewer?”
Esther nodded. “Ich bin gut,” the girl whispered, panting hard. The burn scar on Esther’s face was extra bright red, but she’d assured Lovina she was good.
The cows continued onward, gradually scattering and slowing down. Lovina peered around the side of the house and saw two straggling Holsteins. Cows didn’t usually need to be feared—as long as they weren’t stampeding across the ground where children were. Lovina ignored the stragglers and held Esther’s head against her chest as she wobbled along, praying neither her grandsons nor Skylar had been trampled.
Salome jumped up from behind the woodpile, her son Henry beside her. Salome spotted Esther and broke into tears. “Denki, Gott. Where’s James?” She spun. “James!” The panic on her face made chills run up and down Lovina’s body.
“Here.” Skylar came out from behind a tree, pointing up. “James is here.”
Henry ran to Lovina and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You saved Esther!” He hugged his Grossmammi tight.
“Denki.” Lovina rubbed his back. “But Gott saved her.”
“I’ll go close the gate.” Henry ran off, but Lovina thought the whole herd may have gotten out. They needed to round up the cows as quickly as possible, but right now Lovina didn’t care if it was midnight before they were all corralled. The women and children needed a few minutes to restore calm.
James was still standing on the lowest branch and holding tight to the tree.
“It’s okay.” Salome sounded calmer now. “Kumm.” She reached for him, but he was too high. How had he gotten up there?
Salome directed him gently in Pennsylvania Dutch, and James slowly released the tree, lowered his belly onto the limb, and then hung from the limb by his hands. Salome wrapped her hands around his belly and steadied him as he let go and dropped to the ground.
Lovina moved in closer toward Skylar. “Are you okay?”
Skylar took several steps back. “I’m fine.”
The girl seemed just short of hating Lovina. Was Lovina expecting too much progress in a week? We will move past this, right, God?
Lift up your eyes unto the hills.
Lovina again looked to the closest hill. The wind played with the trees, leaves fell like spring rain, and gusts of wind pushed the limbs to and fro.
The two boys grabbed their Mamm and Grossmammi by their black aprons and pulled them into a group hug. After a long squeeze all of them laughed with relief. Skylar stood ten feet away, arms folded and as aloof as the day she’d arrived. The group finally released one another.
“For such stupid creatures they sure can cause trouble.” Henry looked a bit bewildered. He’d been helping with the milking for a while now, but nothing like this had ever happened. “Those were cattle dogs herding the cows, but I’ve not seen them before.”
“Me either.” Lovina held Esther tight, so grateful she was safe. “We’ll tell your Grossdaadi, and he’ll set the matter straight.”
Salome held out her hands for Esther, and the little girl scrunched into her Mamm’s arms. For the first time in weeks, Salome looked into Lovina’s eyes. “Denki.”
Lovina cupped Salome’s cheek with her hand. “Mei Lieb.” My love. Lovina had called her that since the day Salome was born. Even after Salome’s plans to leave the Amish in the dark of night, Lovina loved her. Did Salome know that? Lovina was angry with her. And hurt. But her love for Salome hadn’t wavered.
Salome gazed into Lovina’s eyes, and tears ran down her face. She took a step back. “James, go inside and check on Katie Ann. Henry, get a bridle on the two horses so we can begin rounding up the cows.”
Was Lovina’s eldest daughter trying to get a moment alone with her? If so, it would be the first in a long time.
James went to Skylar and put his arms around her waist. Skylar pursed her lips and rolled her eyes—neither of which he could see—but she put her hand on top of the boy’s head.
He beamed up at her. “Denki.”
Skylar nodded.
Salome closed the gap between her and Skylar. “You put him in the tree.” The awe in her voice was undeniable.
Skylar shrugged. “He was trying to climb it. I just gave him a boost.”
Salome glanced from the tree to Skylar. “That was quite a boost.”
“And it wasn’t the closest tree to her,” Lovina added. Now it made sense why Skylar hadn’t ducked behind the nearest tree. She’d put herself in danger to help her nephew.
Salome grabbed Skylar by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”
Lovina half expected Skylar’s face to soften, but the lines across her brow grew harder. “Geez, people, all I did was give a kid a boost into a tree. And I’m the one who didn’t shut the gate properly.”
Salome released her. “But that was an accident. Helping my son to safety was on purpose.”
James took Skylar by the hand. “Kumm. I’ll get you some water.”
Skylar wriggled her hand free. “I’m fine, kid.”
“Kumm.” James motioned for her.
Skylar sighed, but she followed him. A moment later James dropped back, walking beside her. She looked disgusted and weary when she glanced at Lovina.
As Henry strode toward the barn to harness the horses, Salome turned to Lovina. “You saved my precious girl, and the words I’ve held back for so long won’t stay penned up.” Salome’s eyes again filled with tears.
Lovina looked to the hills, hoping for wisdom as she nodded. “Go on.”
“I know I hurt you and Daed deeply when I went behind your back and made plans to leave the Amish,” Salome whispered. “I can see that now. Missing Ariana the way I do, even after a good farewell and her promises to return, makes me realize what I would have done to you and Daed if I’d left without warning. But, Mamm, look.” Salome gently ran her finger down the side of her daughter’s scarred face.
Esther had closed her eyes, ready to take a nap after the exhausting incident, clueless as to what her Mamm was saying. But Lovina knew.
The memories of that day nearly three years ago played in her mind like a bad dream. The family had gathered in the yard, and Isaac had built a fire. Esther fell near the firepit. Like most nightmares, parts of what followed were a blur. They rushed to an Englisch neighbor, who drove Esther and her parents to the hospital. The doctors recommended skin grafts, and Salome wanted to follow their advice, but the Amish community pressured her to bring Esther home and follow the Old Ways, using herbal poultices instead. Salome’s husband, Emanuel, sided with the elders and the community, as did Lovina. Salome caved to the pressure, feeling shamed into trusting God over educated doctors. So she relied on the Old Ways.
Salome was faithful night and day to make the best poultices and apply them numerous times a day. But what the church leaders had promised would happen ultimately didn’t. Esther suffered severe pain. Salome’s agony turned to depression. What Lovina hadn’t known until recently is that at some point during that arduous time, Salome and her husband contacted Quill, asking him to help them leave the Amish. Apparently the process with Quill went slowly, probably to give Salome and her husband time to pray and reconsider. They sold their home, moved in with Lovina and Isaac, and waited until Salome gave birth to Katie Ann, who was ten weeks old now. If the situation with Ariana hadn’t come up, Salome and her family would’ve been long gone by now.
“Mamm?”
Lovina drew a deep breath, coming back to today. “Salome, I have no stones to throw. Of course I forgive you.”
“You mean it? Because I don’t get any sense that you really do.”
“Ya, I mean it.”
But she understood Salome’s reluctance to believe her. Lovina sounded hurt and weary rather than loving and forgiving. She’d spent more than three decades raising children, trying to give her all. How had she gone from a whole family to this broken disaster? It seemed to have happened overnight, but apparently the only thing that had happened overnight was her eyes were opened.
Salome inched forward. “I love you, Mamm. My need to leave was never about how I feel toward you.”
“Denki.” Lovina took Salome’s hand into hers and squeezed it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ya.” Salome shifted Esther onto her other shoulder.
Lovina patted the little girl’s back. “You promised Ariana you would be here when she returns, but for how long, Daughter? Is your decision to remain Amish permanently, or is this merely something you feel obligated to do for a season?”
Salome’s eyes moved to the ground, and the shards of Lovina’s broken heart were ground into powder. Salome lifted her head, looking her Mamm in the eyes. “I don’t know. I…I’m sorry. But I give you my word that if we decide to leave, I’ll come to you first.”
Lovina looked at the tree that had protected James only minutes earlier. God had provided protection in a variety of ways as the cows had stampeded across the yard—a woodpile, a tree, the corner of the house, and three adults—one for each child. Where was His protection for her and her daughters’ hearts in all of this?
Something at the base of the tree caught her eye. Peeping above the grass was a brown bottle with a white cap. She went to the tree and picked up the bottle. It was filled with round white pills, and the label had the name Charles Cook. Lovina’s heart sank. She didn’t need anyone to tell her they’d fallen out of Skylar’s pocket, probably as she helped James onto the tree branch.
When did Skylar get these and from where…and from who? Had she managed to conceal them despite Lovina patting her down and going through her luggage? Or had she sneaked out at night and bought them from someone?
Lovina closed her hand around the bottle, suddenly feeling like a woman who’d feared her husband was cheating and had just discovered the proof.
“Mamm?” Salome walked to her. “Are you okay?”
Lovina opened her hand, revealing the bottle. “Why do I brush aside reality until it sinks its teeth into my jugular?”
Esther’s eyes were heavy as she snuggled against Salome’s shoulder. Lovina would give almost anything to return to that simpler time of being a young Mamm. Before decades of mistakes pressed the life out of her. Before her weaknesses tainted the harvest in her children’s lives, crops from seeds she’d never meant to plant.