Chapter 7

THURSDAY EVENING WAS CHILLIER than the past few nights, and Christian lingered at the table, having another cup of coffee and a second helping of angel food cake. “Mighty tasty and light,” he complimented Sarah, who sat to his right, waiting till he finished to clear the rest of the table.

“My Mamm always says it’s like eating sugary air,” Sarah said with a smile.

Faye sat patiently, too, and asked if he wanted anything else to eat while Lettie forked up the last crumbs on her dessert plate. Lucy looked lost in thought. Restless as she’s become. Christian felt unsure about asking her to the meeting tonight. In fact, he wasn’t certain he wanted to make the effort to go himself. Even so, he’d tracked down last week’s handout from the driver, and had his own writing tablet and pen nearby to take out to the carriage, once he’d hitched up.

“You could’ve called for a driver again, love,” Sarah suggested softly. “Go easy on yourself.”

“Jah, I know.”

“I’ll help ya, Dat,” Lucy offered without looking at him. Rising from the bench, she went to the sink and ran the water, washing her hands. “I’ll groom Sunshine for ya right quick, too.”

Ever helpful Lucy, he thought.

“All right, then.” Smiling at Sarah, he pushed his dessert plate back and his chair, too.

Sarah followed him out to the mud room, where she kissed his cheek. “I’ll wait up for ya this time. Sorry ’bout last week.”

He reached for his best straw hat. “You were tired, dear. No need to apologize.”

“I hope it’s beneficial, ’specially considerin’ it’s an evening meeting.”

“I’ve thought the same thing ’bout the later hour.” He mentioned that the majority of those present last week were working folk.

“Havin’ the extra cup of coffee was schmaert.”

He liked Sarah’s doting, having her near. “Well, I best be goin’,” he said, glancing around the corner to see where Lettie and Faye were before bending down to kiss her soft lips.

Sarah smiled sweetly, and his heart was full.

Outdoors, he and Lucy made short work of hitching Sunshine to the enclosed family carriage. Glancing at Lucy a time or two, Christian decided to ask straight out. “Are ya busy this evening?”

Avoiding his gaze, she paused, and he realized he was holding his breath. O Lord above, is she considering it?

“It’s not for me, Dat,” she said at last.

He sighed inwardly. It had been so long since they’d even ridden anywhere together alone—father and daughter.

Lucy looked down at her black apron and brushed it off with her hands. “Besides, I’m not dressed for public.”

“Well, it wouldn’t take ya that long to change, jah? I’ll wait.”

Ol’ Thomas came scampering over and meowed loudly at her feet. “Hullo, boy.” Lucy leaned down to pick up the enormous gray tom and carried him back into the stable.

Christian waited a good five minutes or longer, but Lucy did not return. Quietly, he reached for the driving lines and encouraged Sunny forward, around the barnyard and out to the road.

Just as last week, Dale Wyeth was the greeter, standing in the church lobby as though waiting for Christian to arrive. Sunshine’s harness had gotten loose somehow on the way there, and Christian was quick to express regret for showing up a few minutes late.

Downstairs, they took their seats in the second row—Christian was relieved to be more sheltered there. The older man with the red sweater was sitting off to the side yet again, in the selfsame spot. His head was bowed as Linden Hess reviewed the first lesson and gave more handouts to the middle-aged woman on the far end of the front row, over where Christian had sat last time. She began to pass them down while the leader shared, much as he had last week, that the Lord is near to the brokenhearted. “I know this from experience,” he said, then asked for volunteers who might have specific things to share regarding that.

After the testimonies, they began the night’s lesson, which dealt with understanding “the seasons of grief.” Linden also shared that grieving was like a tunnel, one longer than anyone who hadn’t lived through loss could imagine. “It’s a journey of the heart and the emotions,” he added.

Christian listened, but his mind wandered back to Lucy, wishing she understood how much he cared for her, that he was sorry for the way he’d handled things. Was it only three years ago?

Linden changed the topic a bit now, discussing ways to change up the holidays, potentially emotional landmines. Grief could also peak around the anniversary of the death or the birthday of the deceased. “Women are more naturally able to express their emotions. We men, however, want to control things . . . especially our feelings. We need to know it’s okay to break down. Letting your guard down is a beneficial part of the healing process . . . a gift from God.”

Christian tuned him out. This would’ve been a good session for Lucy, he thought, wondering what he might have done differently to encourage her to join him.

Later, during the discussion time, Dale again shared openly about his father. “The loss seems more final as each day passes,” he told Christian. “Sometimes I wonder how life can go on . . . but I know Dad wouldn’t want me to live in the past. He’d want me to keep my eyes focused on the prize God has for me.” Then, brightening some, he added, “The blessed hope of seeing him again one day really makes heaven seem closer.”

Christian agreed. “I look forward to that reunion with my father, too, Lord willing.”

After the meeting, Christian was in no rush to leave, since Dale seemed interested in talking about Amish life.

“I’ve been thinking about raising goats for milk and cheese, and chickens for eggs,” Dale said. “Would you have some pointers for me, perhaps?”

Christian nodded.

“I’m also curious about hydraulic and pneumatic power,” Dale added.

“Ah, that’s Amish electricity,” Christian said, going on to tell him about his own brother’s tools, such as saws and planers, which were powered by a diesel-run line shaft system in the floor of his furniture shop. “Caleb owns the next farm up from me.”

“Man, would I love to see that!” Dale’s enthusiasm was palpable.

Christian tried to describe the setup at Caleb’s place in more detail, explaining how the various machines in the shop drew power by connecting to a series of belts that rose from the line shaft. And, before he realized what he was doing, Christian had invited Dale to drop by after work tomorrow.

“Thanks.” The young man’s face lit up. “I never expected this.”

Christian gave him directions to the farm, and Dale said he’d call before he came, most likely in the afternoon.

“No need. No telephones in my house or barn,” Christian reminded him, trying to keep from grinning. “We’re off grid, ya know.”

Dale was laughing now. “Naturally!”

On the way home, Christian began to have second thoughts. Why on earth had he thought it was okay to invite a stranger to visit the farm, or to his brother’s shop? He didn’t actually know the man, even though Dale had seemed convincingly sincere.

“’Tis a gut thing Dale doesn’t know I have three single daughters still at home,” Christian whispered as he made the turn onto Witmer Road, hoping that might somehow excuse his decision.