Rachel studied Timothy’s expression as he sipped the sauerkraut soup she’d prepared. He washed it down with a quick gulp of milk.
“You don’t like it?”
“I guess I’m nett hungry.” He pushed the bowl aside.
“And your sandwich, you don’t want that either?” Rachel recalled Sadie saying that a cold meatloaf sandwich and sauerkraut soup was one of his favorite meals.
“I guess not.”
“I know it isn’t like Sadie’s.” She collected the dishes.
He slid his chair out from the table and crossed the room. “Rachel, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I understand. Sadie was a gut cook. Mei cooking won’t ever be like hers.” She turned away from the sink to gather more dishes and he caught her arm.
“I never liked cold meatloaf and I’m nett fond of sauerkraut.”
“But Sadie—”
“Thought I liked it, I know.” He looked sheepish. “She worked so hard to please me that I never wanted to hurt her feelings.”
“Sit and I’ll make you a peanut butter sandwich before I leave to help Naomi with her final preparations.”
The color drained from his face. “You’re leaving already?”
“You’ll be fine. I made a list of things you’ll need to do for Ella.” She sliced a thick portion of bread.
Ella began to fuss. Rachel continued slicing the bread and ignored Timothy clearing his throat. He needed to take care of his daughter. After a moment, he trudged out of the room, unhappy with her.
“Lord, show me how to build a bridge between those two. Ella needs her daed,” she whispered.
When Timothy came for the bottle she’d warmed, he wasn’t as rigid holding Ella.
“Relax. Just talk to her.” Rachel handed him the bottle. “If you don’t know what to say, quote the Scriptures. She needs to know your voice.”
He stared at the ceiling and blinked several times. “Sadie used to say the boppli could hear mei voice during our daily readings.”
“She was right. And Ella needs to hear your voice in your daily readings again,” Rachel said softly.
He closed his eyes and Rachel slipped out the door.
“Something’s troubling you,” Naomi said.
Rachel continued stitching the dress hem until she felt her arm tugged. Naomi took her sewing from her lap. “Kumm to the kitchen and help me with the kaffi.”
Rachel hadn’t wanted to dampen Naomi’s get-together, and now she feared her despondence had done just that.
“I know something’s wrong.” Naomi planted her hands on her hips. “Why won’t you tell me? I’m your best friend.”
Rachel blew out a breath. “Timothy proposed to me.”
Naomi gasped. “When? What did you tell him?”
“He asked the other day, and I haven’t given him an answer.” She reached for Naomi’s hands. “I didn’t want to spoil your wedding preparations. I’m sorry if I’ve been—”
“You’ve been holding out on the most important news two friends can share.” Naomi laughed, then covered her mouth so the others in the next room wouldn’t hear.
Rachel remembered the singing Naomi hosted when Rachel looked outside and saw Jordan isolated from the others.
“Isn’t it wundebaar? We’ll both be fraas.”
Rachel winced at Naomi’s chipper tone.
“You’re happy, right?” Naomi’s expression became serious.
“I’ll always think of Timothy as a bruder-in-law.” Rachel bit her bottom lip. “When I think about marrying him . . . I see . . . Sadie.” She spun toward the window. “I even dream I see her.”
“And?” Naomi touched Rachel’s shoulder.
Rachel couldn’t look at her. “She says it’s okay.”
“If things were opposite and your husband wanted to marry Sadie, would you be upset?”
“Nay,” Rachel said, “nett at all.”
Jordan stared out the bus window. After a grueling four-day journey on a crowded bus, it felt good to be in Michigan. According to the elderly man seated next to him, they still had another six hours to go before reaching Hope Falls. Jordan calculated it would be just about milking time if he caught a cab immediately from the bus station.
The man shifted in the seat. “Anxious to get home?”
Jordan smiled. “Jah, I am.”
The elderly man pointed to his shirt. “Are you Amish or Mennonite?”
“Amish.” He thought about it a moment, then repeated, “Jah, I’m Amish.” At least he would be soon. He planned to talk with the bishop about baptism and joining the church. His mother was right; Hope Falls was where he belonged.
“I passed through Hope Falls awhile back.” He smiled, a faraway look in his eye. “Nice place.”
Sunlight spilled through the window and the man’s eyes appeared reflective. The man reminded Jordan of someone, but he couldn’t figure out who that might be. Something lingered at the edge of his memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
The bus slowed as it veered onto the interstate off-ramp.
“We must be stopping again.” He liked the idea of stretching his legs, but he hoped this wouldn’t be a long layover. He was anxious to get home. The bus came to a gear-screeching stop and expelled a pressurized gasp before the driver announced they were in Kalamazoo.
The man beside him stepped into the aisle and pulled his hat out from the upper storage area. “It’s been nice visiting with you.”
The sun rays streamed through the window and illuminated the twinkle in the man’s eyes. “You’re on the right road. Stay on course, and you’ll make it home.” The man headed toward the exit, the flow of passengers moving him along.
Jordan tucked his duffel underneath the seat in front of him and then took his place at the end of the line of passengers. Jordan felt drawn to the man and wanted to talk to him. Through the window he could see the man disembark. He followed him with his eyes until he was distracted by the woman in front of him, who stopped to prop her foot on a seat and tie her shoe. By the time Jordan exited the bus, the man wasn’t anywhere in sight. He didn’t see him inside the convenience store and supposed someone had been waiting to pick him up.
Jordan returned to his seat with a can of Coke and a bag of Fritos, finding a newspaper lying there. Puzzled, he picked it up. The Budget. Why would the Amish paper be here? He flipped the pages to the Michigan section and read Katie Bender’s column. Plans were under way for building the new school and selecting the teacher. She wrote about visiting with Fanny and Iva Troyer and wished their visit was under more cheerful circumstances. Jordan flipped to the front; the paper was over a month old. He rubbed his jaw. If their visit wasn’t under cheerful circumstances, why had Rachel’s sisters returned home?
Rachel glanced at Timothy seated on the bench with the other married men. Bishop Lapp was about to announce Naomi and William as man and wife. Timothy had kept his head bowed during the entire ceremony.
A heavy knot lay in her stomach. Last night after she spent a great deal of time praying, she went to sleep only to dream about Timothy. As they stood before the bishop in her dream, Timothy’s hair looked as ruffled as it did today. In her dream Ella cried, and when Rachel searched for her, she spotted Sadie holding the baby. Instead of passing Ella to Rachel, Sadie placed the baby in Timothy’s arms.
Rachel scanned the room and stopped when she saw Ella sleeping in Anna King’s arms. Over the past few days Rachel had certainly missed caring for her niece. Although helping Naomi with her wedding preparations gave Rachel a breather from child-care responsibilities, it also gave her time to pray. Outside of the dream, she hadn’t come up with a clear answer to give Timothy. And her parents hadn’t brought up the subject.
The bishop introduced the married couple to the church. The service ended with a prayer, and the guests mingled to congratulate the new couple.
Rachel groaned when Katie Bender approached. She dashed outside, but the screen door creaked behind her. Before Katie spoke, Rachel knew she’d been followed.
“Rachel, I wanted to ask you something,” Katie said.
“Jah?” Rachel forced a smile. She hoped the news of Timothy’s proposal hadn’t gotten out. Katie never failed to follow up on rumors.
Katie tugged on a stray thread on her dress sleeve. “I heard you were interested in the schul teacher position.”
“Jah. I talked with the bishop.”
“I know that since James passed away, you and I haven’t . . .” Katie’s eyes watered. “I looked forward to having sisters finally after I married James.” She paused. “Rachel, I loved James.”
“I know you did.” Rachel reached for her hand.
Katie looked at their clasped hands, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I blamed you,” Rachel said, “and I was wrong. It happened because I wanted to see the angel so badly that I left the sheep pen open.”
“I was the one who suggested you find the angel.” Katie dabbed her sleeve over her eyes. “I wanted to write another story about the angel. I let pride rule over me.”
“I’ve struggled to forgive you.” Rachel blinked and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I want to move past it all. Will you forgive me, Katie?”
In response, Katie opened her arms and drew Rachel in, giving her a warm hug. Rachel felt the forgiveness envelop her. It released something ugly that had been within her. It melted away and disappeared.
Rachel cleared her throat. “I heard you want the teacher’s position.”
Katie wound her fingers around each other. “I need something to do. I won’t ever get married.”
Rachel thought about the option that lay before her. One Katie did not have. “I’ll tell the bishop I’m no longer interested.” She gave Katie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Everything will work out,” she said. She caught a glimpse of Timothy heading toward the buggies. “I need to see Timothy about something.”
“That’s okay . . . go. I’ll talk with you later.”
Rachel hurried to catch Timothy. “Are you leaving?”
“I am. I saw Ginger, so I supposed you wouldn’t need a ride over to the Yoders’ haus.”
“Nay, but denki.” The dark circles under his eyes looked more pronounced today. “Is everything okay?”
“Jah.” He lowered his head.
“You don’t sound too convincing.”
He lifted his face to the sky. “I can’t help but remember Sadie on our wedding day.” He closed his eyes. “She was beautiful.”
A knot formed in her throat. “Jah,” she replied softly. Now would not be the right time to speak with him. At a loss for words, she glanced at the clouds. “You think it’ll rain?”
“Nay.” He unfastened the horse from the post.
Rachel followed him with her eyes, but he climbed into the buggy without even glancing at her. “So I’ll see you later?”
He nodded, then clicked his tongue to signal the horse.
“Ach, God, I pray that you’ll direct mei decision.” Rachel ended her prayer, hearing a baby’s cry. Without turning around, she knew it was Ella’s.
Just as he’d hoped, Jordan was able to hail a cab within minutes of disembarking from the bus. He leaned against the backseat of the cab and closed his eyes, eager to be back for chores.
Lord, I know in my heart Hope Falls is where I belong. Thank you for bringing me home safely.
Without much traffic on the road, the twelve miles passed quickly. Jordan leaned forward and said to the cabdriver, “It’s the next house on the right.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, then dug his hand into his pocket for the fare. The car was barely in park before he jumped out, hauling his duffel behind him. “Thanks,” he said, handing the cash to the driver.
He lifted his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. After inhaling a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he headed up the porch steps.
Miriam answered after his first knock. “Jordan!” she gasped. “It’s gut to see you again.”
He smiled. “It’s gut to be back. Is Rachel home?”
“Nay. She’s at Naomi and William’s wedding.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Micah is milking cows.”
“Denki.” He turned and lumbered over to the barn.
The wooden door creaked as Jordan swung it open. Micah stood at the opposite end, releasing the cows back into the yard.
“Did I miss milking?” Jordan approached Micah.
“Ach, Jordan. I didn’t hear you kumm in.” Micah smiled as he met Jordan in the center of the barn. He clapped his shoulder. “How long are you in town?”
“I’ve kumm to talk with you about that.” Jordan swallowed, but it didn’t settle his frayed nerves.
Micah’s expression sobered. “Jah?”
Jordan picked up the hesitation in Micah’s response. He lowered his attention to the straw on the floor. Lord, give me the words.
“What’s on your mind, Jordan?”
Jordan jammed his hands into his pockets and kept his head bowed. “I’ll be looking for work again.”
Micah put his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “There probably won’t be a harvest. We haven’t had enough rain.”
“I’ll work for room and board.” He smiled. “I promise I won’t eat much.”
“Why have you returned?”
Micah’s question was void of discernible emotion, and Jordan lifted his head. The way Micah stroked his beard sent a wayward shudder that spread along Jordan’s spine.
“I think I’ve settled my stubborn ways. I want to talk with the bishop about baptism and studying the Ordnung.” When Micah didn’t immediately respond, Jordan continued, “I want to join the church.”
“That’s a serious commitment.” Micah eyed him closely.
Jordan shifted his weight and leaned against a barn post for support. “You asked me before I left what troubled my heart.”
“I remember.” Micah stopped stroking his beard.
“I needed to trust God.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been doing a lot of praying. This is where I belong. I believe that with my whole heart.
“Before my mother died, she said my father would find me here. He did. Only I mistakenly thought she meant my biological father. Now I know she meant my heavenly Father.”
Micah smiled and moved closer to Jordan. “That is wundebaar news.” He clapped Jordan’s shoulder. “I see the sincerity of your heart. I’m glad you’ve found peace.”
“And I’ve found my home. Where I belong.” Jordan drew a deep breath. “There’s one more thing. I want to ask for your blessing to marry Rachel.”
Micah’s face fell and he squeezed Jordan’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re too late.”