Chapter Nine

Three weeks later, on a Wednesday afternoon, John and Grace left the side entrance to the veterinary clinic and walked across the parking lot to where John’s truck was parked. He opened the pickup’s passenger door and helped Grace climb in. “It’s good of you to drive me home again,” she said. “I appreciate it, but I can’t keep taking advantage of you.”

“You’re not,” he answered. He closed the door, went around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. He’d been out earlier, so the wipers were able to easily sweep the new-fallen snow off the windshield. “I have a call at Martin’s, about a mile from the Yoder farm. It was no problem to swing by the office on my way.”

Grace wasn’t sure that John was being entirely truthful with her. It was the third day in a row that he’d found a reason to swing by the office about the time Grace was getting off work, and then happen to be heading in the direction of the Yoder farm. She didn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression by continuing to allow him to drive her home. Still, she loved every minute of her job and she didn’t want to take the chance of losing it due to transportation problems. And she did enjoy John’s company.

The plan had been for her to ride to work with Melody, one of the vet techs, in the morning and be picked up by a regular driver for the Amish in the afternoon. But the van came past the veterinary clinic around 1:00. If Grace missed that van, she couldn’t catch a ride again until 5:30. And because of today’s snow, traffic would be slowed and that would make her arrival at the farm even later. She had to work, but she hated being away from Dakota any longer than she had to be.

Grace settled back, fastened her seat belt and stared back at the clinic entrance. Snow had been falling since late morning, early in the year for Delaware, according to her fellow employees. The air was crisp and cold, and the parking lot, remaining cars and yard were draped in a shimmering blanket of white. Like a child, she’d always loved snow. It made everything so clean and fresh.

“Tired?” John asked. “Uncle Albert said the office was crazy today.”

Grace had learned that after John’s grandfather’s retirement the previous year, John had continued to be on-call to care for their large-animal practice, while his uncle had started caring for cats and dogs. They had expanded their office and hired the young female veterinarian and were already thinking of hiring another. Grace got the impression that none of the men in the Hartman family had expected their small-animal practice to take off the way it had.

“I’m a little tired.” She rubbed the back of her neck. She’d been up since five-thirty this morning, and they’d been so busy today that she’d barely had time to snatch a sandwich mid-afternoon. Usually, she started work at 8:00 a.m. sharp and finished by 1:00 p.m., but today everyone’s schedules were off at the office.

One of the front desk clerks had called in sick, and the office had been mobbed. There had been three scheduled surgeries, a full appointment schedule, two emergencies and a sweet Rottweiler that had lost an encounter with a skunk.

Besides her usual job of cleaning cages, sweeping the kennel, feeding the animals and walking dogs, Grace had taken a turn at the desk. There, she’d answered the telephone, registered incoming patients, made and canceled appointments and collected payment for services.

“Uncle Albert said you were a huge help,” John said. “He said he didn’t know what they would have done without you today.”

A warm wave of pleasure enveloped Grace. “It’s what I’m there for, isn’t it? To do whatever I can?”

“Yes, as a kennel tech, but that rarely includes the receptionist’s job or dealing with skunk-sprayed animals.” He grinned. “Poor Mr. O’Brien. I heard he stunk worse than his Rotti.”

Grace chuckled. It was a wonder she didn’t smell of skunk. Luckily, Melody had insisted she change into a jumpsuit and gloves before taking charge of poor Zeus. It wasn’t one of the regular groomer’s days, so bathing the animal had fallen to Grace, as well. She really hadn’t minded. She loved dogs, and Zeus, despite his size, was as gentle as a lamb.

“Seriously, you’re a terrific addition to the staff. Everyone agrees.”

Grace smiled but kept gazing out the window. It was difficult for her to remember the plan when John was sitting so close to her. She knew that he liked her, and it would have been easy to like him, and not just as a friend. But that wasn’t part of the plan. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He wasn’t Amish, so all he could be to her, other than her employer, was trouble.

They were both quiet for a moment. The only sound in the cab was the swish of the windshield wipers and the crunch of the tires on the snowy road.

“You okay?” John asked, glancing her direction.

She nodded. “Fine.”

He started to speak, stopped, then went on. “I...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Grace. If you feel riding home with me...” He cleared his throat and began again. “What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to humor me to keep your job. It just seems silly for you to wait an hour and pay the driver when I can have you at Hannah’s back porch in ten minutes.”

Grace knew that what he was saying made sense. The van cost eight dollars a trip, and she had to watch her pennies if she didn’t want to be a burden on Hannah. It wasn’t that she didn’t like riding with John. The truth was, she thoroughly enjoyed his company. He was fun and upbeat, and they always found interesting things to talk about. Plus, he usually had the truck radio tuned to the local country music station.

She loved country music. Music was one thing she’d really miss when she became Amish; the Amish, she’d learned, didn’t permit using or listening to musical instruments. She’d have to give up her guitar, and she’d played since she was thirteen. She’d never had formal lessons, but she thought she had a real knack for it, and playing had always made her happy.

“You know I’d never do anything on purpose to make you uncomfortable.”

“Of course.” She turned toward him and placed a hand on his arm. “You’ve always been a real gentleman...kind to me and Dakota. I won’t forget you spending half your day taking us to the hospital.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You did more than most people would. You were great. You were patient with Dakota and me. You told me it was just a bump, but I was being an overprotective mom. I realized that later.” She shrugged. “It’s just that he’s all I have. I love him so much, and I can’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to him.”

“He’s a special little guy.” He pointed with a gloved finger. “Don’t forget, I did promise to give him a riding lesson. Provided it’s okay with you.”

Grace folded her arms, tucking her hands inside her coat sleeves. The heater was running, but she didn’t have gloves, and the cab was still chilly.

She tried to think of a way to keep from hurting John’s feelings. Dakota had been begging her to go and see the big horse, and she knew she would enjoy it, as well. But she was afraid that going with John would take her away from the Yoder farm, away from Hannah, her sisters and the Amish community. Not away physically—the place where John stabled the Percheron wasn’t that far—but spiritually. It wasn’t something an Amish woman would do. Rebecca wouldn’t consider going with an Englishman for the afternoon. Even with Dakota along as chaperone, it might look like a date. She was still learning the ropes here, but it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that the Amish cared very much how things appeared to their fellow church members.

Besides, seeing John, one of her bosses, after work hours might cause gossip at the clinic. And with good reason. She’d always made it a rule not to date people she worked with or for. That was a lesson she’d learned the hard way when she was eighteen and working at an ice-cream shop. She’d taken the manager, Eddy Polchak, up on an invitation for pizza and a movie and later discovered that he expected more than a thank-you for the evening. That had cost her her job, because no way was she going to compromise her sense of right and wrong, no matter how badly she needed money. She might have grown up rough, but she had standards.

Not that John would be like that. She could tell that he wasn’t that kind of man.

The sad thing was, John was exactly what she was looking for, or he would have been, if he were Amish. She had a hunch that John would be an easy man to fall in love with if she was looking for love. Which she was. Just not romantic love.

For her, God’s forgiveness, faith and the love of family and community had to come first. Becoming Amish was the only way she could see to make up for her past. She had to choose between a life of service and worship over a life of self. She had to choose God over the world; she believed there was mercy and peace waiting if she could step away from temptation.

Finding a solid Amish husband was part of the package, a man who lived simply and put God first in his life, a man who could guide her in the same path. Women married for lots of reasons. Some chose men who could provide them with diamond rings, big houses and fancy cars. Others picked guys for their hot looks and muscles. Grace hoped that she would be wiser. This time, she meant to find a husband best suited to fit into what she believed was God’s plan for her, a man who would be a good father to her child, and one she could respect. She knew what she was looking for...a Plain man like...like Roland Byler.

The problem was, none of the Amish men seemed to notice she was alive, especially not Roland Byler. She’d seen him three times since she’d met him at the cider pressing weeks ago, but the most conversation she’d gotten out of him was a brief comment about the weather.

“Did I say something to offend you?” John asked.

“What?” Grace blinked. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about...” She offered him an apologetic smile. “It’s not you. Really. I guess I’m under a lot of stress. Not the job,” she hurried to say. “Everybody at the office has been great. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever worked. You have a great kennel area. I love the setup and the fenced-in play area for the dogs. I just...”

He turned the truck off the blacktop into a farm lane and brought the vehicle to a stop. “But?” he asked.

Grace supposed she should have been alarmed, his pulling over like this, but it was John, and she wasn’t afraid of him. Besides, she had to share her concerns with someone or burst.

“It’s not as easy fitting into Hannah’s family as I thought it would be,” she blurted.

A smile played on his lips. “Or among the Amish in general?”

She nodded, slipping her hands out of her sleeves to rest them on the seat. “True.”

“It’s tough. I’ve been working in the community for almost five years and I’ve made a lot of friends among them. We have a lot in common. I belong to the Mennonite Church, the Amish and Mennonites spring from the same beginnings. We share a lot of the same beliefs.”

She waited, sensing a but coming. John didn’t disappoint her.

“But they are apart from the world. It’s a tight community. Sometimes I feel welcome, sometimes I don’t.” He hesitated. “The fact is, Grace, they may never let you in. Not completely.”

She curled her legs under her and scooted up on the wide seat. “I know that. But it will be different for Dakota.” She couldn’t help smiling as she remembered how cute he looked in his little straw hat and high-top boots. “It’s already different for him. You should hear him speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. And he knows the rules better than I do. We’ve been here only five weeks, and he’s taken Hannah, Susanna, my sisters, his cousins—even Grossmama and Aunt Jezzy—to heart. He and Jonah are inseparable, and Dakota adores Susanna.”

“What do you think of the worship services?”

Grace took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “They’re long.”

He grinned.

“I love the singing—it’s almost like chanting. I can’t understand the words, but the hymns give me goose bumps. Good ones.” She closed her eyes. “You can just feel the joy in those hymns.”

He let her go on.

“I understand a little Pennsylvania Dutch, and I’m picking up more every day. But the ministers read from the Bible and quote from it in High German. I’m sure I’ll get more from it when my German improves.”

He rubbed his gloved hand over the top of the steering wheel. “You’re a brave woman, Grace. Not easily discouraged by what some would think an impossible task. Uncle Albert said he’d never heard of an Englisher successfully converting to the Old Order Amish.” He shrugged. “But it could be different for you, with Hannah’s help, and your sisters. I never knew your father that well, but people speak well of him. You’ve got that on your side, too.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive my mother for keeping me from him,” she admitted. “I know that we can’t expect the Lord to forgive us if we can’t find forgiveness in our hearts for others. But all those years that I spent in foster care could have been so different if I’d been able to come here. Of course Jonas might not have wanted me, might have turned me away....”

John reached out and brushed her hand with his gloved one. “He would have wanted you, Grace. Hannah would have wanted you. You’re right. It was wrong of your mother to keep you from knowing your father and your family. She robbed you of your childhood, but she must have had her reasons.”

“Not good ones. Not from where I sit. I loved her—don’t get me wrong. She did the best she could, or at least she did what she thought was best for me. But it hurts so much that I never got to meet my father.” She looked through the windshield at the swirling snow. “Not once.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “But you have to try to forgive her. Like you said, you have to let it go. Otherwise, bitterness will poison you.”

She sighed and looked back at him, pulling her hand from his. It just felt too good there. “I know, but it isn’t easy.” And not just Trudie, she thought. I have to forgive Joe or I’ll never be able to move on.

She sat up straight and rubbed her hands briskly together. Any more of this, and she’d be blubbering like a baby. “What are you doing tomorrow for Thanksgiving?” she asked, anxious to change the subject to something less emotional. “Are you going to your mother’s or spending it at home?”

“Neither. Gramps was invited to a friend’s house for the day, and Uncle Albert and I will be helping members of our church serve dinner at a senior center. It’s open to the entire community, but we’ve made a special outreach to those who might be alone or families struggling in this economy.”

“That’s nice. I helped at a homeless shelter once on Christmas Day. In Reno. Some of the people who came to eat were a little scary, but most were just down on their luck.”

“I suppose Hannah’s having a big Thanksgiving dinner with her family.”

“No.” Grace shook her head and sighed. “I thought so, too. The community has chosen a day of prayer and fasting this year instead of the traditional feast. Not for the children, of course. And Hannah said I could fast or not as I wanted. It’s fine.” She forced a chuckle. “Every day is like Thanksgiving at the Yoder table.”

But it wasn’t fine...not really. In her heart of hearts, she was disappointed. She expected this Thanksgiving to be like the ones she saw in magazines or on television. Amish-style, of course. Her throat tightened as she remembered the last Thanksgiving she and her mother had shared. There’d been takeout Chinese food in cardboard cartons, a guy named Vick who Trudie had met at a truck stop, a buddy of Vick’s and thay guy’s girlfriend. The adults had gotten into an argument, then a fistfight, and Grace had ended up hiding in a closet. What had hurt most was that her mother hadn’t even missed her, and when Grace finally crawled out of the dark, everyone, including Trudie, had left.

“I’m going to fast with them,” she said determinedly. “It’s just from after supper tonight until tomorrow night. Then we’ll have bread and broth. I’m sure it will be a good experience.”

“It is. It’s not something my church does often, but I’ve taken part in fasting before.” His gaze met hers. “Did you belong to a church? Before you came here, I mean? I hope you don’t mind my asking,” he added quickly.

“Not a problem.” She gave a wave. “Trudie was never one for churchgoing. But my foster mother, the one with the dogs, never let us miss a Sunday. I got in the habit. I moved around a lot, but I liked to attend church whenever I could. I went to lots of different denominations, but I can’t say that I really belonged anywhere.”

He hesitated and then backed the truck out of the lane onto the road. “I’d better get you home. They’ll be wondering where I am. My appointment, I mean.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

They rode the rest of the way to the Yoder drive in companionable quiet. As he turned into the dirt lane, John said, “Our church has an open invitation to visitors. We could use help serving tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and naturally, you’d be welcome at any worship service...if the Amish...”

“Thank you,” she said, putting her hand on the door handle. She opened the door as the truck came to a stop, just yards from Hannah’s back gate. “I would love to help with the dinner, but I couldn’t leave Dakota on Thanksgiving Day.”

“You could bring him,” John suggested, sounding disappointed. “The volunteers from our church always include their kids in our activities.”

“I don’t think so, but thanks for offering.” She climbed out. “Thanks again for the ride home.” She didn’t look back until she got to the porch. He waved, and she waved back, then stamped her feet to get the snow off before she went into the house.

“I’m home,” she called as she stepped into the warm kitchen. She didn’t see Dakota or any of the children, but Hannah, Aunt Jezzy, Johanna, Rebecca and Susanna were all there, gathered around the table. Hannah had been speaking, but she bit off her words in mid-sentence.

Everyone looked at Grace.

The nape of Grace’s neck prickled as thoughts of John flew out of her head. Hannah’s features strained with obvious distress. Not once—not even on the evening she and Dakota had arrived—had she felt so much discord in this room. “What is it?” Grace asked. “Are the children all right? Dakota—”

“Fine.” Hannah’s voice was uncharacteristically tight. “Playing in the front parlor. Irwin is watching them.”

Irwin? What had happened that none of them wanted the children to hear what they were discussing? And what was so important that Irwin would be pressed into babysitting while Grace’s sisters, including Susanna, were here? Grace studied the faces she’d come to know so well. Even Aunt Jezzy had traded her sweet smile for pursed lips and a troubled expression. “Have I done something?” Grace asked, afraid they had been waiting for her. Lying in wait even.

“Ne.” Hannah shook her head. “Not at all.”

“It’s private,” Johanna said. “Just family.”

Grace shrugged off her coat and hung it on a hook. “I am family,” she said. Her knees felt weak, but she wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. “Whether you like it or not, little sister. I’m here and I care about you all. Anything that worries all of you concerns me.”

“Ya,” Aunt Jezzy agreed. She motioned to the empty place beside her. “You see that look in her eyes, Hannah, my brother’s look.” She glanced at Johanna, speaking in English. “Shame on you. Now, more than ever, we must draw close together. And you cannot deny that she is your father’s child and your elder.”

Johanna’s face flushed but she nodded. “I’m sorry, Grace,” she murmured. “I’m just upset.” She nodded toward their youngest sister. “It’s our Susanna. And David King.”

Susanna? What could Susanna have done wrong? Grace wondered as she looked across the table at her youngest sister. Susanna’s cheeks were redder than Johanna’s, and her bottom lip protruded in a stubborn pout.

“Aunt Jezzy found Susanna and David on the stairs,” Hannah explained. “Behaving in an inappropriate way.”

Grace knew her eyes must have widened in surprise. Susanna and David King? What had they been doing that upset everyone? Susanna was Susanna, and David, although he was older, seemed even more of a child.

“Making mischief.” Aunt Jezzy lifted her graying eyebrows. “The two of them.”

“King David is not bad. He’s good.” Susanna’s eyes crinkled up. Her pout faded and her chin quivered. “I love him.”

“No,” Hannah said gently. “David’s not bad. No one said that. Neither of you is bad.”

Johanna slipped an arm around Susanna’s shoulder. “He’s not bad. Only unwise.”

Hannah whispered to Grace behind her hand. “They were kissing.”

But Susanna heard. “I did!” Susanna shouted. “I did kissed King David,” she said. “I love him.” She nodded vigorously. “King David and me.” Her mouth spread into a wide smile. “I kissed him because we’re getting married.”