Chapter Seven

Rebecca listened to Booker rattling off instructions to the person on the phone. She wasn’t sure what was wrong but she heard the distress in his voice. When he ended the call, she asked, “What has happened?”

“My partner has been making flights that I was supposed to make so I could stay here. Now the plane is missing. If anything has happened to him…” His voice trailed off.

“I pray he is safe, but he is in God’s hands. You must not despair.”

“I’ve forgotten what that is like.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Accepting that everything is God’s will. I’ve forgotten what that’s like. I have to get back to Rochester.”

“The Lord is our strength and our salvation, Booker. Lean on Him, for He loves all His children. Though we may not understand His plan for us, never doubt that He has one.”

“I want to thank you, Rebecca.”

“For what?”

“Let’s just say for helping me realize some important truths. I wanted to say more, but to explain would take more time than I have now. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I’ve got to get going.”

His voice was stronger today and more familiar. How was it that he seemed to grow more important to her with each passing minute? She listened to his footsteps bounding up the stairs. He would be gone as soon as he could pack and she would never spend time with him again.

“Is something wrong?” Adam asked. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“Booker has to leave. His friend is in trouble.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“No, he is going home.”

A car horn honked outside. Adam called out, “Emma, our driver is here.”

“Coming.” The rapid tapping of sturdy heels on the plank floor signaled Emma’s approach. Breathlessly, she asked, “Did you tell Rebecca?”

“Tell me what?”

“The fellow who bought your quilt had donated it to help raise money for your grandfather. What a nice man he is. He reminds me of you, Adam.”

“Come,” Adam cut her short. “We mustn’t keep the car waiting.”

“All right. Goodbye, Rebecca. It was wonderful having you and your aunt here. I only wish we could have spent more time together.”

“Goodbye. Have a safe trip,” Rebecca called after them as they left.

Quiet filled the lobby. Rebecca listened for the sound of Booker coming down, but heard only the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock.

Would Booker think of her sometimes when he was gone from this place? He would have nothing to remember her by. He had given her quilt away.

She would have liked to think of him wrapped up in the comfort of her creation. She was sorry he decided to part with it, but she was thankful for his kindness toward her grandfather.

The clock began to strike the hour.

What was she thinking? Booker might not have the quilt from the auction, but he could still have one of hers. She’d finished her Christmas Star quilt late last night, placing her signature in Braille with French knots in the last square as she did with all her quilts. She knew God would direct her gift where it was needed the most.

She crossed the lobby quickly and found the stairs with her cane. Tucking her stick under her arm, she hurried up the steps.

The quilt was where she had left it, folded neatly in a box beside her bed. She lifted the lid of the box and ran her hand across the folded fabric.

She tried to imagine how it must look. Her aunt told her it was made up of green, red and gold colors that formed a many-pointed star on a cream background. She tried to imagine it but her memory of colors was fading. Was the green the color of spring grass or the color of the summer woods?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that her work brought joy or comfort to someone. To Booker. Gathering it in her arms, she started toward the door but paused with her hand on the cool metal knob.

Would he accept it? It was a valuable item in his eyes. He’d paid dearly for her previous work.

Perhaps he would think she was too forward in giving him such a gift. It was forward and unlike her.

She heard the sound of a door opening across the hall. It was now or never. Either she could let Booker walk away or she could open the door. The choice was hers. She took a deep breath and turned the handle. “Booker, is that you?”

She stood waiting for an answer. She knew he was in the hall with her. She could smell his cologne, she could hear his breathing. Why didn’t he speak?

Gathering her courage, she took a step closer. “I have something for you.”

“Why are you doing this?” His raspy voice held a note of pain.

“Doing what?” Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Why are you making it so hard for me to leave?”

“I didn’t realize I was.”

“If only this had been another place, another time.”

He stepped closer. She knew if she stretched out her hand she could touch him. She locked her fingers together beneath the quilt she held. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You are woman enough to know exactly what I mean. You feel it, too, this bond we have.”

She did feel it, but she could never admit it. She smiled sadly. “Another time and another place would not have mattered, Booker. You come from a world I could not inhabit. I live where everyone’s feet are planted firmly on the earth.”

“I would stay, but my friend needs me.”

“Go to him. I belong here.”

“There’s nothing for you here. No husband, no children, no ties that can’t be broken. You could step into the world I come from. You could know freedom. I could find you the best medical care. You wouldn’t have to work your fingers to the bone stitching quilts year after year.”

Rebecca shook her head and clutched her quilt tightly. “There are ties you cannot see, Booker. My soul is tied to God and to my people through my faith. I could no more break those cords than I could fly.”

“I could take you flying. You could see the tops of the clouds and…” His voice trailed away, as if he’d forgotten her blindness for a moment and suddenly realized how foolish his words sounded.

She took pity on him. “I have no wish to fly, Booker. That is for the birds of the air.”

He sighed deeply. “I hope you’re not offended by my offer.”

She bowed her head hoping he would not notice the heat rushing to her cheeks. “Nee, I shall cherish it as the wish of one friend to aid another.”

To her surprise, he slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her face. Her heart pounded so hard she thought he must hear it. If only she could see his face.

He said, “I could have been more than a friend to you…in another time and in another place.”

Swallowing hard, she struggled to keep her voice steady. “I know you gave away the quilt you bought.”

He took his hand away from her face. She missed the warmth and gentleness of his touch. He said, “I wish now that I hadn’t. You’re a very remarkable woman, Rebecca.”

She struggled to maintain her composure. “It is not my goal to be remarkable. It is my goal to be a humble servant of God.”

“And that is the goal of all Amish. Am I right?”

“Ja.” She extended the quilt toward him. “This is my gift to you. Please take it and remember me with kindness whenever you see it.”

To her relief, he took the quilt from her. She stepped back a pace. “May God go with you, Booker, whether your feet be on the ground or skipping across the clouds above.”

She turned away, found the doorknob of her room with trembling hands and entered with tears stinging her eyes. She leaned against the door and wondered if God would forgive her for wanting to go with him.

 

Hours later, Gideon learned Craig and the plane had been found following a crash landing. His friend was alive, but their plane wasn’t in one piece. After hearing the details from Roseanne, Gideon knew exactly how lucky his friend had been.

Gideon pushed open the door of the hospital room and stepped inside. The lights had been turned down low and the shades were drawn. Craig lay with his eyes closed on the crisp white sheets. A thick bandage covered the right side of his head.

Gideon might have thought he was sleeping except that his hands were clenching into tight fists. Stepping closer, Gideon said, “I thought the idea was to keep our planes in one piece.”

Craig opened his eyes. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“How you doing?”

Craig grimaced. “I’ve been better.”

“You can have pain medication. You don’t have to tough it out.”

“They just gave me something. I don’t like whatever it is. It makes me go to sleep and then I get these awful nightmares. How bad is the plane?”

Gideon saw no reason to sugarcoat it. “A total loss. How bad are you?”

“I’m not as pretty as I was before. I think they put twenty stitches in my forehead. My ribs are bruised. My ankle is sprained, not broken. That’s the good news. They want to keep me overnight for observation. I’m sorry. This is gonna set us back.”

“Don’t worry about it. We have one plane left and our insurance will go a long way toward getting us a replacement for the one you ditched in the lake.”

“I put her down on the shore. It if hadn’t been for the boulders that jumped into my path, I would have made a fine landing.”

“You were lucky to get out in one piece. Just mend and get back in the air. Unless this has put you off flying.”

“Are you kidding? You think one little crash is gonna ground me for good? Not hardly. I’ll be back up there before you know it.”

“It wasn’t a little crash, Craig.”

His gaze grew pensive. “Yeah, I know. I saw the ground coming up and…I wasn’t ready.”

“You weren’t ready for what?”

“I wasn’t ready to die. In that second, man, I knew my time was up, and I hadn’t done the one thing I needed to do. I didn’t want to die without telling a certain person how much she means to me, how much I love her.”

“I can pass that sentiment on to Roseanne if you like.”

Craig laughed then grimaced as he clutched his sides. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Then I will tell you that Melody is outside with Roseanne. She got here a couple minutes after I did.”

“She’s here?” Craig’s pain-filled expression lightened for an instant then darkened again.

Gideon studied Craig’s face. Softly, he asked, “What happened? I thought you and Melody were doing great.”

“I thought we were, too. She has a kid, Gideon.”

“And you just found this out?”

“Yeah. Apparently, my reaction to the news wasn’t all she hoped it would be. It got a little ugly. I said some things, she said some things. The whole argument was totally stupid.”

“I’m sorry, Craig.”

“Me, too. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve thought about having kids, but I thought…someday, not right now. Then yesterday, all my somedays came real close to being never. I got a second chance. Do you know how rare that is, Gideon? God gave me a second chance to try and make things right.”

Gideon did understand. God had given him a second chance to know Rebecca. She wasn’t the girl he left behind. She had become a strong woman, steadfast in her faith in spite of her trials. He admired her with a newfound respect and longed to see her again, but Craig’s chances of a happy reunion were much better.

Gideon said, “I know how rare second chances are. I also know that Melody would like to see you. Shall I have her come in?”

“What if I mess this up? What if she can’t forgive me? What if she thinks I’ll make a lousy father? Will I?”

His friend’s dilemma wasn’t something Gideon could answer. Having a family and kids had fallen off his radar years ago. “I think if you love each other you’ll find a way to make it work.”

Craig fixed his gaze on the door. “Booker, if it had been you going down in the plane, would you have had regrets?”

Rebecca’s face came back to haunt Gideon. “I would have my share.”

“Was the Amish woman on television one of them?”

“It’s complicated, Craig.” Complicated and hopeless.

Craig put his head back and closed his eyes. “Want some advice from a guy who saw his life flash before his eyes? Don’t wait until your plane is going down to think about making things right.”

“I’ll let Melody come in now.” Gideon opened the door and stepped outside. Melody stood in the hallway with Roseanne. The fear and worry etched on her young face told Gideon everything he needed to know about her feelings for Craig.

He said, “He’d like to see you now. His pain medication is making him a little groggy. In case he falls asleep before he has a chance to tell you he was a jerk, I’m telling you now he knows he was.”

A smile trembled briefly on her lips. “I can put up with a man who’s a jerk once in a while as long as he’s alive.”

After she went in and closed the door, Gideon slipped his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and faced Roseanne. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve made that flight.”

Roseanne shook her head. “Everything happens for a reason, Gideon. There was a reason Craig was in the plane. There was a reason you were stranded in a little town in Ohio. We just don’t always get to know what those reasons are.”

“With only one plane we aren’t going to have much business.”

“Maybe now I can get caught up on my paperwork. Our insurance will take care of another plane. Isn’t that why we pay those outlandish premiums?”

“Yes, but that will take time.”

A couple came down the hall toward them and Gideon realized they were Craig’s parents. There was a strong family resemblance between father and son. Funny, he had known Craig for five years and had never met his family. Such a thing would have been inconceivable in the close-knit Amish community where Gideon grew up.

Everyone knew everyone. Members took turns hosting church services in each other’s homes. One family’s troubles belonged to all. He had only to think about Reuben’s fire to know the truth of that. The waiting room would have been filled to overflowing with concerned and prayerful parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins if an Amish man had been as seriously injured as Craig had been.

If it had been Gideon in that room, would his family have come had they known? Would they be there to pray for him and to urge him to come back to God and his faith?

Craig’s father, a distinguished-looking man with wings of silver at his temples, stopped beside them. Craig’s mother, a dainty woman barely five feet tall, clutched her husband’s arm.

Gideon extended his hand to Craig’s father. “Hello, sir. I’m Gideon Troyer, Craig’s partner.”

Craig’s mother asked, “Where is he? How badly is he hurt? We couldn’t get any information.”

Gideon smiled to reassure her. “He’s pretty banged up. He has a mild concussion, some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle, but he’s going to be fine.”

Craig’s father looked relieved but his mother’s worried expression didn’t change. “Can I see him?”

“Sure, go on in.”

As the couple stepped past them and entered the room, Roseanne asked, “Should I have warned them about Melody?”

“No, Craig’s a big boy.”

Don’t wait until your plane is going down to make things right.

Craig’s words repeated in Gideon’s mind, then he thought, I knew before I left Hope Springs what I wanted to do. I reckon now is the time to do it. Craig will do okay without me. He has a good head for business. Roseanne will help him every step of the way.

“What’s the matter, Gideon? You’ve been different since you came back from Ohio.” Roseanne was studying him intently.

“I know.”

“This wasn’t your fault, if that’s what’s troubling you.”

“No, it’s not Craig. He’s going to be fine.”

A sudden rush of excitement mushroomed in Gideon’s body. Was it possible? Could he go back and make a life for himself within the Amish community? Could he humble himself before the church and admit he’d made a bad decision? Would he be forgiven and welcomed by his family after so long?

He’d gone into the outside world determined to leave his Amish past behind. Until he’d gone to Hope Springs, he didn’t realize what a hole leaving his faith made inside of him. Yes, he missed Rebecca, but he missed his family, too. He missed his father’s stern teachings and his mother’s warm-hearted kindness. He loved them, and he’d cut himself off out of false pride.

He missed feeling at one with God and his community. Yes, he’d become a successful man, but at what cost to his soul? He could go back. He could make amends for everything he’d done. If he didn’t go now, it might be too late.

It was a huge step. There would be no turning back if he took it. He had broken his vow once before. He wouldn’t do it again, but was he considering this only because of Rebecca? What if she wasn’t interested in sharing his life?

But what if she was?

He made up his mind and a weight lifted from his soul. He smiled at his secretary. “Roseanne, you’ve been a good friend as well as a good employee. When the insurance check comes in I want you to make sure Craig gets a good deal on a sound plane.”

“Sure, but where will you be?”

“I’m going back to Ohio.”

“For how long?”

“I’m going back for good.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “To the Amish? Why?”

“Because I made a mistake a long time ago. I feel I’ve been given a chance to make that right. When Craig is up and around, I’ll talk to him about buying out my half of the company. I know he can handle it. I’ve got to sell my car and get rid of the stuff at my apartment. You can have anything you like from the place.”

“Gideon, you can’t just leave us.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Keep the knucklehead in line.”

 

“Thank you for coming in today, Rebecca.” Dr. Harold White pulled his chair closer to her.

“I was surprised to get your message.” Rebecca, perched on an exam table in the Hope Springs medical clinic, couldn’t help wondering why she was here.

“I received a surprising call from my grandson yesterday evening.”

Dr. Philip White was completing his internship in genetic studies at the University of Cleveland. It had been Philip who mentioned Rebecca’s case to a visiting eye surgeon at the clinic. He had been instrumental in convincing the surgeon, Dr. Tuva Eriksson, to see Rebecca.

She said, “I hope Dr. Philip is well?”

“He’s fine. The reason he called has to do with you. It seems Dr. Eriksson’s clinic in New York has received a substantial donation of money toward your upcoming surgery. In fact, your procedure is now tentatively scheduled for the week before Christmas.”

“My surgery has been approved?” Rebecca couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yes.”

Joy followed by abject terror poured through her body. “It’s all paid for?”

“The donation, along with the money that has been raised here, will cover the cost of your surgery and hospital stay. Dr. Eriksson has offered to waive her fee. You are all set.”

“Who has done this? Who sent them so much money?”

“Someone who wished to remain anonymous.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Her head was in a whirl.

“That’s why you’re here today. Are you ready to start the preparations and treatment we talked about?”

“Am I ready to begin chemotherapy?” Dr. White had already explained the powerful drugs were needed to decrease the inflammation the disease produced inside her eyes. Like a cancer, her cells had gone haywire making her blind.

“Dr. Eriksson feels unless we begin soon, we won’t be able to reduce the inflammation in your eyes enough to have the surgery. A lot hinges on your response to these two drugs. I must tell you, I’m no expert on this type of thing.”

“I understand. Dr. Eriksson explained there is no assurance of success. It is an experimental surgery and has only been tried a few times before.”

The doctor took her hand. “There is less than a fifty percent chance that this will work, Rebecca. I don’t know how to tell you not to get your hopes up.”

She managed a lopsided grin. “Are you telling me that this surgery could leave me blind? Doctor, I’m already blind.”

“I know you’re trying to make light of the situation, but the truth is, this procedure could prevent any hope of a cure in the future. New research on uveitis could uncover a better procedure or better medication in the near future. Research is ongoing in the field.”

“I pray a cure is discovered, for I am not the only person with this disease. When do we start?”

“Today. I’m going to read you this consent. You must sign it before we can start the medications. I want you to stop me if you have any questions. I’m going to have your aunt step in now, if that’s all right? She should hear this, too.”

With her aunt at her side, Rebecca listened as the doctor described the side effects she was likely to have on the chemotherapy. Although the dosages of the drugs were much smaller than when they were used to treat cancer, she might still be affected with nausea, vomiting, headaches, body aches and more. The list went on and on. He made it clear she might endure all the side effects and still not be able to have her surgery.

Was it worth it? She was accustomed to being in the dark. For a moment she was tempted to back out, to return to her aunt’s home and live there quietly until the end of her days. Then she recalled Booker’s voice as he talked about looking down from the clouds. She would never look down from the clouds, but she would give anything to look up and see them in the sky overhead once more.

After the doctor finished, Rebecca signed her name where he indicated and tried to still her racing heart. It was finally going to happen thanks to an anonymous donor. In her heart, she knew the money had come from Booker. She would be forever in his debt.

 

That afternoon and forty miles away, Gideon sat in the front seat of Roseanne’s car as she turned onto a farm lane outside Berlin, Ohio. His hands grew cold as ice as his heart pounded like a runaway train. He was here. This was the exact place where his Amish life had ended. It seemed fitting that this was where his English life would end, as well.

He said, “Stop here.”

Roseanne shot him a funny look. “Don’t you want me to drive up to the house?”

“No. I want to walk.”

“It’s freezing outside.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She stopped the car and put it in Park. “Are you sure about this, Gideon?”

He knew she wasn’t asking about his hike up the lane. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he said, “I’ll be fine, Roseanne. This is what I want.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “If you ever need anything, anything, you just give me a shout.”

Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I never would’ve made it without you. Craig is going to need all the help he can get. Don’t let him do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Melody and I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know you will.” Tears stung the back of his eyes, but he blinked them away. Pushing open the door, he stepped out. From the backseat of the car he pulled a small satchel and then stepped aside. Roseanne backed the car onto the main road. She waved once then drove back the way they had come.

Gideon faced the lane leading toward a large, rambling white house. Smoke rose from two of the home’s three chimneys. Over the years, his family had added on to the original home with a second smaller house for his mother’s parents.

The addition of a Dawdi Haus, or grandfather house, was a common practice among the Amish. Grandparents and elderly relatives were able to maintain their own households when they retired and yet were surrounded and included by their extended families. It was a good way to grow old.

A large well-tended barn and outbuildings stood a few dozen yards back from house. There were horses in the corral and cattle in the pasture. This was the home Gideon hadn’t seen in ten years. From this spot nothing much had changed. Only everything had changed. He had changed.

Hefting his bag, he started walking up the road. The cold wind slipped under the collar of his coat, making him hunch his shoulders to block the breeze. The snow on the ground crunched beneath his feet, making him think of his walk with Rebecca through the snow-covered streets of Hope Springs.

She wasn’t the only reason he’d come back. Rebecca had merely been the needle on the compass pointing him to his way home. He hadn’t realized how lost he truly was until he saw her again. Perhaps someday he would tell her she had been the instrument of his return.

In Gideon’s mind, Booker no longer existed. His life in the English world was at an end. It was Booker who soared above the clouds and looked down on the backs of birds flying beneath him. It was plain Gideon Troyer walking this rural road with his feet planted firmly on the good earth God had made.

Even as Gideon faced the fact that he would never fly again, he wondered if he could do it. Could he gaze at the sky and not long to be up there? Giving up flying hurt as much as giving up an arm or a leg.

It wouldn’t be easy to come back, but it was the right thing to do.

Plain Gideon had many tasks before him. The first was to gain his family’s forgiveness. Facing his father and mother was shaping up to be a difficult thing as he approached the farmhouse. His heart started hammering. His palms grew sweaty. Admitting his mistake, making amends for the way he’d left, he had a lot to atone for. He prayed God would grant him the courage he needed this day.

When plain Gideon took his rightful place among the faithful, only then would he be free to discover if Rebecca Beachy still cared for him. If she did not, he would accept that it was God’s will.

Please, Lord, give me the wisdom to convince her we belong together.

He arrived at the front door of his childhood home with a growing sense that he had finally made the right decision. This was where he was meant to be.

When the front door opened and his father walked out, Gideon’s courage failed him. He couldn’t speak.

His father’s eyes widened in shock. “Gideon?”

Abraham Troyer had aged in the ten years that had passed. He seemed frail now. His shoulders bowed forward, as if the weight of his life was hard to carry. How much of the gray hair, how many of the worry lines on his face were due to Gideon’s selfishness?

His father took a step toward. It broke the spell holding Gideon rooted to the spot. Dropping to one knee, Gideon bowed his head, closed his eyes and spoke the words that burned in his heart. “Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.”

He heard a muffled gasp, but he was afraid to look up. What if too much time had passed? What if merely asking for forgiveness wasn’t enough? What could he do to convince his father that he was sincere?

Suddenly, he felt his father’s hands drawing him to his feet. He opened his eyes and met his father’s gaze. Tears rolled down his father’s lean, leathery cheeks.

In a voice that shook, Abraham Troyer said, “Mie, sohn, you were forgiven the very day that you left. There is only rejoicing now that you have returned. Gott has answered my prayers. Praise be to Him.”