One Month Later
AT SARAH’S URGING, they’d decided to walk to the gathering at the Yoders’ house. The invitation to join in the celebration for the family’s newborn daughter had come as something of a surprise, and for several hours after Kristie Yoder had stopped by to deliver the invitation, Sarah had fretted something fierce.
John had let her fret and stew for a spell, knowing that she sometimes needed that. Then, after listening to her worry for almost an hour, he’d taken control. “I think we should go,” he’d said.
“But what if everyone scorns us? That would ruin Kristie’s day.”
“I reckon she’s already considered that,” he said lightly. “After all, she was the one who delivered the invitation. Let’s go,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her brow. “It’s time.”
“We might merely be ignored,” she said.
He’d smiled at the hope in her voice. “Ignored is better than being completely shunned, I suppose.”
And though they’d kept to themselves during the last month, they hadn’t been sent from the community. John had been surprised. He’d imagined that their retribution would be a bit harsher. Even though he knew the Amish were peaceful people, John hadn’t truly believed that the community would ever find it easy to accept him or forgive his misdeeds.
But to his surprise, the preacher Jeremiah had arrived just a week after Lloyd’s return and John’s confession. Sarah had been so pleased to see him but afraid, too.
But Jeremiah was a true man of God. He’d merely accepted Sarah’s offer of coffee—declining her offer of milk and sugar with a smile—and then had settled down for a long talk with both of them.
It seemed that John’s speech about his love for Sarah had resonated with all of them.
And that speech, together with everyone’s knowledge that Sarah had lived a mighty difficult life with her first husband, had encouraged many in the community to reach out to them.
Oh, of course John and Sarah were not Amish anymore. And they might never have the close bond with their neighbors and friends that they might have had in other circumstances . . . but Jeremiah had been forceful in reminding them that they still had a place in the community. They were still wanted.
If they wanted to be.
After Jeremiah left, the two of them weighed the preacher’s words. Soon, it was very clear that Sarah wanted to be accepted more than anything.
Secretly, John yearned for the same things. But he’d learned the hard way that wanting something—especially wanting other people’s friendship and love—didn’t necessarily mean that such wishes could be granted. Now, here they were, going to the Yoders. And since John still found it difficult to drive a buggy, they’d elected to walk. Besides, now that he was no longer pretending to be someone he wasn’t, he figured it was time to let everyone else get used to the fact that he was an Englischer, too.
Sarah was walking straight and proud by his side.
Now she wore a gold ring on her finger, and he couldn’t deny the pride he felt every time he saw the simple gold band on her left hand. She was wonderful and she, by the grace of God, was his, and he was so happy to let everyone know it.
She’d come so far since they’d first met and he was so proud of her. For so long she’d been everything and yet almost nothing to the people in her community. It had been a hard road for her to take, and John felt that a lesser woman would have broken down under the stress of it all.
But not his Sarah. After they’d finally admitted everything to the community, his wife had become her own person. Slowly and surely she was holding her head a little higher and being a little more confident.
She was no longer wearing her kapp, but was wearing a smaller head covering that some of the Mennonite women in the area wore. Her dress was a light blue, too, and had a little collar on it. And there were also buttons.
It was a far cry from what the English women in town wore, but it was also a step away from dressing Amish.
He knew in his heart that if Daniel had survived she would have stayed by his side and tried every day to make things work. And if he had never come to the area, John was pretty sure that she would have married Zeke and lived a good and happy life as his Amish wife.
Instead, she’d been willing to give up much of herself for a man like him. A scarred, almost ruined man whose only real claim of worth was that he loved her.
He thought she’d never been more beautiful.
“Are you nervous about seeing everyone?” he asked as they walked on the small bridge over Sugar Creek. Now they were mere minutes from the Yoder farm.
“Jah.” She shrugged. “I can’t help it. I am asking a lot of them, letting me still be a part of the community sometimes.”
“Don’t forget, they asked you to come to the party. I think that says a lot about how far they’ve come.”
“I haven’t forgotten that they asked us, John,” she murmured softly. “They asked both of us.” With a small, gentle smile, she added, “See, they want to know you, too.”
“I still can’t believe that. It’s more than I expected.”
“The Amish are more than many expect, I think.”
He liked the way that sounded, almost as much as he liked the way she sounded. So sure of herself. Confident. Perky.
“Don’t forget, if someone is mean to you, I want you to tell me immediately.” He still didn’t trust Zeke to behave himself, though Sarah had said she had no worries in that regard. But what she didn’t seem to realize was that Zeke’s hurt and anger had less to do with John pretending to be someone he wasn’t and more to do with Zeke nursing a broken heart.
“What are you going to do, John? Give them what-for?” she teased.
He chuckled, liking the sound of his favorite phrase on her lips. “Maybe.”
“I don’t think anyone will be rude. They promised to accept us, after all.”
“I hope that’s the case.” He paused, remembering what Lloyd had told him the evening before when he’d stopped by. “Lloyd said it would be.”
She shook her head in wonder. “I still can’t believe that you and he have become such fast friends. When he exposed you for not being Daniel, I was sure you would always be enemies.”
“I thought so, too. No one was more surprised to see him at our front door than I.” Reflecting on that, he added, “Sarah, I think we get along because we both survived the war. It’s nice to have someone nearby who understands what it was like.”
She squeezed his arm, telling him without words that she understood the harsh memories and pain he still fought in the middle of the night.
Just that one touch gave him strength. He cleared his throat. “But if Lloyd had never wanted to talk to me again, I wouldn’t have blamed him, if you want to know the truth. Lloyd Mast is an upstanding man. It was his right to be disdainful of a man who was willing to take another’s identity.”
“Jah, he is upstanding. But he is not perfect, John. Nor does he wish to be. Only the Lord is.”
“He told me much the same thing. I have a lot to learn about forgiveness.”
“We all do. But it is not our right to punish. That is the Lord’s place.”
“I hear you, Sarah. And I promise, I am trying hard to believe that.”
“And that you are worthy of such love and forgiveness?”
In truth, that was a far harder thing for him to swallow. But he was doing his best to accept such things. “I’m trying my best. I want to believe.”
She smiled. “Then that is enough, John.”
“I hope so.”
“I promise, it is.”
But then when they walked over the rise, she paused and he saw a small tremor pass through her body. “Look at all the buggies and people at the Yoders! Oh, my goodness, John! When Kristie came over to invite us, I had envisioned it to be a much smaller gathering.”
“I know you did.”
“I want to be strong, but I am a little afraid.” To his surprise, she raised her left hand and gazed at the gold band encircling her finger.
It practically killed him to say it, but he didn’t want to ever cause her a moment’s pain. “Would you like to take off your ring during the party?”
She whipped her head to his. “No! Why would you ask such a thing?”
“I saw you look at your hand. And seeing as how the Amish don’t wear wedding rings, I thought maybe you would feel too conspicuous.”
“Oh, I was only thinking that I like wearing your ring. It helps me remember that I am no longer alone. I know the Lord is always with me. But the ring reminds me that I am no longer alone in my heart.”
Now those were words to treasure. John exhaled, and stood quietly by her side, telling her without words that he would follow her lead. Let her take as much time as she needed to get ready to join the crowd.
After a minute, because there was no one else there to see, he wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “It looks like it will be a wonderful gathering. I’m sure you will be most welcome.”
“I hope so.”
Dropping his hand, he said, “Are you ready to go to the party, Sarah?”
“I am.” She started forward, her expression serious.
He knew that look; it was one she’d worn around him when he’d first arrived. Now he knew she wore it like a mask, as a way of protecting herself from pain.
As they got closer to the groups of people, first a couple of heads rose. Then, like a wave on an ocean, almost everyone stopped and stared.
And then, a few women stepped forward. As did Lloyd.
“It’s about time you two got here,” Lloyd called out with a cheeky grin. “What did you do, stop every five minutes and make a wish? Rest?”
“We decided to walk,” John said easily. “It took a bit longer than we anticipated.”
Then he glanced Sarah’s way. Just in time to see her being gathered into the women’s group. And to his amusement, the other women were holding on to her hand and exclaiming over her band of gold.
He heard her laugh. Then saw her look his way and smile. That smile was bright and genuine and perfect.
And that was when he realized everything Jeremiah and Sarah, and even Daniel, had tried to teach him.
Though they weren’t perfect, though they all made mistakes, though they all sinned . . . they were all worthy. Even the smallest mustard seed.
Even him.