Grace gave in and went to the bazaar at the Mennonite School with John. Once there, she was glad she had. It was the kind of Christmas atmosphere that she dreamed of but knew she wouldn’t find in the Yoder household. Both she and Dakota enjoyed it tremendously. Familiar carols filled the air as the three of them drank hot chocolate and stopped to admire an elaborate model train display featuring a snow-covered papier-mâché mountain, miniature farms and a Victorian village.
Grace, John and Dakota wandered up and down the aisles of craft tables, tasting samples of brownies and Christmas goodies and chatting with John’s friends and clients. Grace was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the shoppers were Amish. She wished Susanna could have come with her, but her sister had decided at the last minute to accompany Rebecca to Anna’s to bake cookies. Grace suspected her choice had more to do with the possibility of David’s presence there than her desire to bake, but Grace’s feelings weren’t hurt. In a way, she was proud of the stubbornness Susanna was displaying in regard to her friendship with David.
After walking around for a while, John had to excuse himself to act as short-order cook in the kitchen while a friend took a lunch break. “Not the best choice,” John remarked as he donned an apron. “I’m not much of a cook.” He flashed a smile at her. “Hopefully, I can manage hot dogs and hamburgers.”
“We need him for only an hour,” a rosy-cheeked, middle-aged woman with a lace prayer cap called through the open kitchen door. She waved to Grace.
Grace waved back and led Dakota away. She’d drawn Jonah’s name in the family gift exchange, and had planned to take this time to search for a special present for him. As with all else, as Rebecca had considerately explained, Amish Christmases were austere and noncommercial. Jonah would receive a few simple items from Johanna, including a new pair of boots, mittens and a toolbox with a small hammer and screwdriver. Other than those, the gift Grace purchased would be all he received.
Christmas fell on a church Sunday this year, but Hannah had explained to Grace that services would be postponed until the following week. December twenty-fifth would be a quiet family day of prayer, fasting and Bible reading. The following day was the Amish Second Christmas, the time for visiting and gift giving. Hannah and the girls would prepare a big holiday dinner for the occasion.
Grace led Dakota around a table and his eyes grew wide and he bounced up and down at the sight of a big Christmas tree. The decorations were all handmade, and instead of lights, someone had strung popcorn and cranberries to adorn the boughs. Beneath the tree, visitors to the bazaar and members of the Mennonite Church had left heaps of wrapped gifts designated for local children of incarcerated parents. “Look! Look, Mommy!” Dakota cried. “Are we having a Christmas tree?”
Grace’s heart sank. “No,” she said softly. “The Amish don’t believe in them.” She bent and hugged her son. “But this year, we’ll be with family. It will be a wonderful Christmas, I promise you.”
They strolled on, lingering near a small stage where a high-school student played “Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem” on a much-loved and battered piano, accompanied by a young man with a guitar. The sweet notes brought tears to Grace’s eyes, and she squeezed Dakota’s hand tighter. We’re not giving up Christmas, she told herself. We’re just moving to a simpler celebration of Christ’s birth.
Still, she stood transfixed, listening to the music, unable to keep her thoughts from drifting. A long, long time ago... That year, the highlight of the holiday for her had been the opportunity to play the part of the innkeeper’s wife in a Sunday-school pageant. There had been a small pile of gifts for her under her foster mother’s tree, but she couldn’t remember a single one. What she did remember was the excitement of standing behind the dusty drapes waiting to step on stage and recite her lines.
It had been a bitter night with a foot of snow on the ground and wind that howled around the corners of the building. It was so cold that each breath Grace took sent little clouds of condensation into the air. But when those first notes of “Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem” wheezed from the church organ, she’d been transfixed by the magic and beauty of Christmas.
The Christmas pageant was one of Grace’s most treasured memories, one that had given her pleasure over the years. Secretly, she had always hoped that Dakota would get to experience that same thrill some day. He might even get to play the part of Joseph or one of the three kings when he was older. She smiled at her own foolishness. What she was giving him was far more important: a family, a sense of community and a faith to sustain him when life got tough.... Because it would. Grace wasn’t naive enough to think that becoming Amish would solve all their problems. Being Amish didn’t mean that bad things would never happen to her or Dakota. It simply meant that if they did, she and he would be able to accept God’s will and find the strength to carry on.
“I want a guitar,” Dakota said. “I want to play a guitar like you.”
Grace swallowed, trying to ignore the inner twinge of regret that thoughts of her beloved guitar brought to mind. Musical instruments were forbidden to the Amish, and she’d stored her guitar in Hannah’s attic. I should sell it or give it away, she thought. The longer I hold on to it, the more difficult it will be to let it go. Someone may as well enjoy it.
“Come on,” she said, hurrying Dakota away. “We have to find a gift for Jonah. Remember? But it’s a surprise. You can’t tell what we get him.”
“I won’t tell,” he promised, glancing back over his shoulder at the guitar player as she tugged him away.
“We need something special.” Grace glanced around at the booths containing gently used items. “Something that doesn’t need batteries.”
“Look!” Dakota pointed. Under a table, sticking out of a cardboard box, was a red roof. “It’s a barn,” he said. “Like one at my old school.”
Grace knelt to pull out the box. Inside was a sturdy plastic barn filled with a tumbled heap of matching animals: cows, horses, chickens, a goat and pigs. There were sections of fence and even a tiny milk bucket and toy bales of hay. “I hope it’s not too expensive,” she murmured. The toys were well-made and perfect for a small Amish boy, but Johanna had warned her not to spend more than twenty dollars.
The gray-haired lady behind the counter smiled at Dakota when Grace asked how much the barn set was. “For you, young man?” the woman asked Dakota.
He shook his head. “For my cousin. For Christmas.” He brought his finger to his lips. “But it’s a secret,” he warned in a loud whisper.
The woman lifted the box onto the table and examined the barn. “It isn’t new,” she said. “And one of the doors is cracked on the barn, and there’s a little water stain inside. Wait.” She rummaged behind the counter and came up with a tiny wagon and a handful of toy sheep. “This must go with it. I’ve been wondering what to do with those sheep. Would ten dollars be too much?”
“Not at all.” Grace was counting out the money when Leslie, whom she’d met at the bowling outing the previous Saturday, approached her. Three small children trailed her.
Grace thanked the woman at the table and turned away, the box with the barn and animals in her arms.
“Hi,” Leslie said. “John sent me to look for you. We’re starting a movie about the nativity story in the auditorium and he thought Dakota might enjoy it. We’re going to have popcorn and apple juice. If you’ll let me take him, I’ll watch out for him. I promise.”
“Can I?” Dakota looked up at Grace with a sweet smile on his face. “Can I go?”
“It’s just right through that doorway,” Leslie explained. “You can join us, too, if you like.”
“All right,” Grace agreed. “I just want to get the truck keys from John and put this—” she lifted the box “—into the cab.”
Dakota waved as he walked away, holding Leslie’s hand.
By the time Grace reached the cafeteria window, John was already finishing his shift. He insisted on carrying Jonah’s present to the truck. “I’ve wanted to get you alone all morning,” he said. “I have something important to talk to you about.”
“What is it?” Grace asked, fighting an uneasy feeling. She hoped John didn’t want to talk about dating again. He was wearing her down with his kindness.
“It’s about work.” He smiled at her. “Wait until we get outside.”
Relieved and intrigued, Grace followed him to the truck. John slid the box of toys onto the backseat, and then opened the passenger front door for her to get in. “It’s too cold to stand out here.” He went around to the driver’s side and joined her in the cab. “Uncle Albert and my grandfather came up with this idea,” he said. “It’s a great opportunity. I hope you’ll at least think about it.”
Grace listened as John explained about the vet tech associate’s degree the community college offered. A small flame of hope flared in the pit of her stomach. She tamped it down. She couldn’t be understanding this correctly. The Hartmans couldn’t possibly be offering to send her to college—to pay for her to learn a profession. She loved working with animals, but she’d never imagined that she’d ever have the chance to....
“They believe in you,” John continued. “I believe in you. We think that you can do this.”
He went on to tell her the solutions they’d come up with for continued part-time work at the clinic and transportation, but she was still stunned by the possibilities. Being a vet tech would mean more money and a real career. She was speechless.
“So what do you think?” John clasped her hand in his. “Is it something that you’d consider?”
She swallowed, trying to dissolve the lump in her throat, and then burst into tears. Mortified, she jerked her hand away and covered her face, unable to hold back.
“Grace, don’t,” he begged. “Don’t cry. What did I say?” He reached for her and she buried her face in his coat and sobbed. “Did I say something wrong? Did I insult you?”
She pulled back, now beginning to laugh through the tears. “No,” she managed. “I’m...I’m...just...so happy.” She wanted to turn handstands in the parking lot. She shook her head, wanting to pinch herself to be certain this wasn’t a dream. She fumbled in her purse for a tissue but couldn’t find one.
He pulled a clean red-and-white handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “If you’re happy, you have a weird way of showing it.”
She chuckled and he began to laugh with her as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose on the handkerchief. “I don’t know what to say,” she gasped. “I feel like such an idiot.”
“But you’re pleased?”
She nodded. “Thrilled.”
“Great. Fantastic.”
She balled the handkerchief and stuck it in her own coat pocket. “I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d ever have the chance to go to college. I always wanted to, but...” Her eyes filled with tears again.
“So you’d do it?” he insisted, rubbing her arm. “You’re willing to do it?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” She looked into his eyes and began to laugh again. “What kind of man carries handkerchiefs in his pocket?”
John groaned. “I know. I know. But Uncle Albert always does, and my aunt kept putting them in my pocket when I was a boy. I guess it’s a habit.”
“That came in handy today,” Grace admitted.
“It did, didn’t it?” John’s smile widened and she couldn’t help thinking how handsome he was.
“So you’ll do it?”
“I...” She hesitated, suddenly struck by the thought that it might not be entirely up to her. “Unless...” Her stomach pitched. “Unless it’s against the rules... Amish rules. I don’t suppose being a vet tech is much different than what I’m doing now,” she said hopefully. “But I’ll have to ask...ask Hannah.”
“You have time. The next session doesn’t begin until February.”
“I’ll talk to her first thing when I get home.”
“You and Dakota are still staying for the potluck supper, aren’t you? The kids have a great time.” He looked into her eyes. “I want you to, Grace. Please say you’ll stay.”
Moth wings fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She opened the truck door and sucked in a deep breath of cold, fresh air. When she summoned nerve enough to look back at him, she was struck by the vulnerability in his face. “Are you certain I...we’ll be welcome?”
She was stalling, wanting to refuse, wanting to keep this as a day between friends...not a date. Letting herself care about John was dangerous. She couldn’t have both John and the forgiveness she needed to go forward with her life. No matter how she wished that things could be different, John couldn’t fit into her plan.
“Of course you’d both be welcome, but...” He knotted his right hand, pressing it against the leather seat. “I don’t want to pressure you, Grace. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I think you know that I’d like us to be more than friends.”
She nodded. “It’s probably best if you take us home. So that I can talk to Hannah,” she added quickly. “This...the bazaar has been great. I’ve had a good time...really. But...”
He nodded. “All right. I understand.”
But you don’t, she thought, reading the disappointment in his eyes. You don’t understand at all. And if you knew the truth about me, you probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me again. Ever.
* * *
Two hours later, Grace stood in Hannah’s kitchen staring at her stepmother in bewilderment. “I don’t understand,” Grace said. “I’ll have to work part-time for two years until I finish the program, but I’ll still be bringing money into the house. And after that, when I’ve become a vet tech, my wages will—”
“Ne,” Hannah repeated. She laid the rolling pin on the floured board and folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I am sorry, Grace, but you cannot do this.”
“Is it because of the driving? I could take a van to school if you don’t want me to use the car.” She hadn’t known about this opportunity a few hours ago, and now she wanted it desperately.
“Oh, child.” Hannah’s expression softened and she dusted her floury hands on her apron. “You can’t do this at all.”
“But why?” Grace’s chest tightened.
“If you truly want to be one of us, you must learn to accept the rules of our community. We do not believe in higher education. It’s why our children don’t go to high school or to any English school at all. It’s why they leave the classroom after the eighth grade. There is no college for us,” she added softly.
“But it doesn’t make any sense,” Grace argued.
Hannah took several steps and extended a hand. “I told you that it wouldn’t be easy...for you to make the journey from your world into ours. You must understand.”
“Maybe if I went to the elders and explained...”
Again Hannah shook her head. “You heard what the bishop told you. He will make no decisions for you. But if you do this, you will not be allowed to become one of us.” She offered a half smile. “Believe me, daughter, no Amish man would consider you as wife if you persist.”
“But you work,” Grace argued. “You’re a teacher. Surely—”
“I had worked as a teacher before I married and returned to it after Jonas died. I did have some studies by mail, but I never went to college. And if...when I remarry, I won’t be allowed to work any longer.”
“How can a higher education interfere with my becoming Amish? With how I serve God?”
“Some things must not be questioned, but simply accepted. Remember, we are a people commanded to remain apart from the world. If you want to continue, you must refuse this offer and keep cleaning the kennels or find another job...a job suitable for an Amish woman. You must do this if you want to be considered for admittance to the church.”
“There’s no way?”
“None,” Hannah replied. “You must choose, Grace. This college or our faith.”
She nodded. She wouldn’t cry, she couldn’t. She felt numb inside. This means that Dakota can never attend college, either, she realized. Not even high school. Slowly, she lowered her head in defeat.
“Your choice,” Hannah repeated. “You must learn to accept the Ordnung, to submit your will to the laws of our community. Or find a different path,” she said softly.
“I have to tell John,” she said. “He’s waiting outside in the truck. It’s only fair. That way, they can find someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said. “I know this seems unfair to you, but it’s best. And if you’ve made up your mind, best to let him know your decision.”
Woodenly, Grace left the kitchen, not even stopping long enough to put on her coat. She didn’t feel the cold as she crossed the porch and passed through the open gate. John saw her, smiled and waved. She straightened her shoulders, knowing that explaining why she couldn’t accept his offer would be hard.
He got out of the truck and came toward her. “What did Hannah say?” he called. “Does she think the bishop will allow—”
She raised a hand, palm up, and a gust of wind hit her hard enough to almost knock her off her feet. “It isn’t what you wanted to hear,” she said, raising her voice. “I’m sorry, but...” She stumbled through the explanation, repeating the phrases Hannah had used. How could she expect him to understand when he didn’t know her reasons?
“No! You can’t let them dictate to you, Grace. This is too important a decision for anyone else to make for you. You want it. I know you do.”
“I can’t fight this,” she said, wrapping her arms around her waist. “If I went to college, I couldn’t join the church.”
“Then don’t join the church. Have the courage to make your own life. You have a God-given talent for working with sick and hurt animals. It would be a sin to waste that gift because...”
He was upset, more than upset. John was angry with her. Suddenly weary and heartsick, she stopped listening to him. It wasn’t just the job. John still hadn’t realized that there was no future for them.
“Stop!” she said. “Just stop talking and listen to me.” She tried to sound tough, but her teeth were chattering. It was difficult to be forceful when she was so cold that goose bumps were rising on her arms and legs. “I need to tell you something...something that will...”
“You’re shivering,” he said, removing his fleece-lined jean jacket and draping it around her shoulders. “Get in the truck.”
“Is that an order?”
“Please get in the truck.”
What difference did it make? Once he knew what she was, she probably wouldn’t even have her kennel tech position. But it didn’t matter. She was tired of living a lie...tired of hiding.
She was still shivering after she climbed inside the cab. She pulled John’s coat around her, raised her chin and looked him in the eye. God help me, she prayed. I have to tell him.
“Okay,” he said, putting his arm on the back of the seat. “Let’s have it. You’re still married to Dakota’s father, aren’t you? You’re going to tell me that I’ve fallen hard for a married woman.”
“That’s just it,” she whispered huskily. She made herself look him in the eyes. “There is no husband. There never was.”