Chapter 40

CHRISTIAN WAS GRATEFUL when Sarah brought some hot coffee out to the barn midafternoon, taking a moment to mention the community was all abuzz about the homeless young woman Lucy and her Englischer friend had helped. “Have ya heard they’re stayin’ over at Bud Friesen’s?”

“Jah.” Christian nodded. “Lucy told me. James and Solomon and their wives donated some canned goods when they heard,” Christian said, stopping to wipe his brow with his blue paisley handkerchief.

Sarah smiled and said that was awfully nice. “Lucy’s generosity must be catching.”

“I can’t agree more, though I’m hopin’ this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with Dale,” he said, which made Sarah shake her head. Then she scurried back toward the house. No doubt she’s worried, too, after reading The Budget.

Christian hadn’t been able to locate their copy of the periodical since he and Sarah had read it last Friday. It seemed odd for it to walk off like that, and he wondered if Lucy had even seen it yet, since she hadn’t said a word about it.

Maybe she’s been too busy.

From the high vantage point of her room, Lucy watched her father ride out of the lane. She was under the weather, and after this morning’s funeral, she didn’t have the strength to be around other grieving people . . . nor Dale Wyeth. Have I spent too much time with him lately?

On the heels of the passings of Wendell and Dorothea, hearing that Faye was most likely leaving for Colorado, too, and possibly Martie and Ray, was too much for Lucy to contemplate.

And Tobe.

Moving to her desk, Lucy reached for the curriculum and read through the information for the class she was missing—“Where is God in Our Grief?” Her gaze fell on the pretty quilted coverlet Martie had made for Lucy’s baby after Lucy left for Ohio. It was lying on the armrest of the settee.

Have I held God at a distance? Is that why He feels so far away?

She picked up the small quilt and smoothed it, then folded it and placed it in her hope chest before she slipped over to the sunroom area. There, she sat, bowing her head, the space dimly lit by a small lantern. I didn’t even have the courtesy to tell Dat I wasn’t going tonight.

Tomorrow, they would fast during the breakfast hour. Most families skipped just that meal prior to communion Sunday. “I have lots to pray about,” she murmured, recalling Clinton’s talking about how Dorothea had long struggled: her will versus God’s.

Closing her eyes, Lucy prayed silently, getting a head start on tomorrow.

After the support group adjourned, Dale sought out Christian to ask how Lucy was faring. Christian said he had been glad she could attend Dorothea’s funeral today, close as Lucy had been to the woman.

“I had expected she might be here tonight,” Dale commented, looking around. “Is she okay?”

Christian didn’t know for sure and didn’t care to let on. “It’s possible she’ll return next week.”

“Please let her know I asked about her,” Dale said politely.

And while Christian tried to read Dale’s demeanor, he couldn’t decipher whether or not the man had romantic intentions. He remembered Deacon Ed’s visit earlier this week, The Budget in hand. No, as much as Christian liked Dale, he would not relay his message to Lucy . . . adding coal to an already simmering fire.

Jesse and Josh were sleeping soundly upstairs when Ray came in from outdoors. He pulled his chair out and sat down at the head of the table, asking for some coffee.

“So late?” Martie asked.

Ray nodded and pulled on his beard. He seemed fidgety, which wasn’t like him. “Kumme, sit with me, mei Lieb.”

With the pregnancy, Martie didn’t dare drink coffee at all, particularly at this hour, so she got herself some cold water from the faucet and brought her tumbler over and sat down, waiting for the water to boil.

“As I told you Monday, I’ve been mullin’ things over with James, taking time to decide whether a move to Colorado might be a gut thing for our family, too.”

Martie set her water down, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that movin’ west to join with the other families could be a wise thing. But we won’t leave when all the others do . . . not with the twins coming. It makes better sense for us to stay put for the immediate future,” he said, reaching for her hand and holding it on the table.

So he does want to go, but not right away, she thought, wanting to be brave. Even so, it was hard.

“I should have told ya before now what I was thinking . . . didn’t wanna put added stress on you. Your happiness and the health of the babies is uppermost,” Ray said.

“I’d heard some things, and I must admit I was frettin’ more than I should have.” She smiled a little. “But I do trust ya, Ray. You know what’s best for us.”

He leaned near, searching her eyes. “This is the chance of a lifetime. We can purchase many more acres there, and for so much less than here. We’ll have more land to pass on to our children someday.”

“What ’bout our families?” she had to ask. “We’ll be leavin’ them behind. After all, your parents are getting up in years, ya know.”

“Our relatives can visit. The trains and vans go both ways.” He kissed her hand.

She nodded, and when the water came to a boil, she asked if decaf was all right, hoping that way he could sleep more soundly. “Have ya told your father any of this yet?” she asked as she stirred in the instant coffee.

He nodded. “Daed’s real curious what we’ll discover out there—sounds like he and Mamm might even want to join us, once we’re settled.”

“Now, that’d be all right with me.” More hands to help with four little ones!

“But no sense worryin’ your parents just yet,” Ray said, blowing on his coffee. “Seems they’ve got enough to handle with Lucy.”

“What now?” she asked.

He hesitated, as if thinking how to say it. “Well, seems the Blanks saw Lucy with an Englischer at a coffee shop on Sunday afternoon. Seemed to be awful cozy . . . like they were on a date. She even left there in his pickup truck.”

“Nee, I can’t believe this!” And lest she spoil their time together, Martie rose right quick and went to the cookie jar.

After she’d had a nibble or two, she returned to the table and offered some to Ray. They discussed his fasting for breakfast tomorrow, in keeping with their tradition, though due to her pregnancy, she wouldn’t be joining in.

“Better safe than sorry,” Ray agreed.

Later, after they’d outened the lights, Martie wondered how many others had seen Lucy with Dale Wyeth over the past couple of weeks. Cozying up, for goodness’ sake!

If it was true that Lucy was entertaining romantic notions toward yet another outsider, Martie worried her sister would not partake in the fasting and prayer tomorrow—let alone communion.