A Rose Revealed (17 page)

Esther nodded.

“You can’t leave.”

Esther leaned her head forward expectantly, but he had said all he meant to. “I can’t stay,” she said softly.

“Becky,” I said, getting to my feet. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

Becky blinked, and then nodded. “Good idea.” She turned to Esther and took the baby from her.

Esther broke her stare long enough to kiss Trevor’s little nose and smile a farewell. “Maybe I will see you again,” she whispered. “Before I leave.”

Becky took her shawl from the peg as I ran upstairs to grab my jacket. I had my hand on the doorknob when Esther looked at me in something like panic.

“Don’t go,” she said.

I smiled. “I won’t be long.”

Becky and I walked down the road toward her grandparents’ farm, Hawk loping along beside us. It was a crisp day, bright with sunshine and unseasonably warm.

“I think tomorrow is supposed to be even warmer than today,” I said. “It’ll be nice for the funeral.”

Becky stopped and looked at me, excitement flashing across her face. “I’ve got to tell you what happened. I didn’t want to say in front of Esther because I wasn’t sure how she would feel.”

“You got in touch with Samuel?” I said, grabbing onto the most exciting possibility I could think of.

Becky shook her head. “Don’t I wish. But it’s almost as wonderful.”

I watched a cardinal flash by. “So tell me.”

“Last night after everyone left and Grandmother Annie and I were ready for bed, she came to my room. ‘Tomorrow I want you to move into one of the front rooms,’ she said. ‘You pick the one you and Trevor will like most.’”

I looked at Becky’s glowing face and knew how much this gesture meant to her.

“And,” Becky continued, “she said, ‘Can I hold my great-grandson? My arms have been aching for him.’”

“Oh, Becky!” I hugged the girl, Trevor cuddled between us.

“Grandmother sat on the bed and held him for a long time, talking to him and playing with him. And this morning she held him in her rocking chair downstairs until people started to come.”

She saw the question on my face and answered before I even asked. “She didn’t hold him in front of people because she didn’t want to seem disrespectful to Grandfather Nate.”

I nodded. “That’s very wise of her and understanding of you.”

She shrugged. “Trevor and I moved into the yellow and blue room this morning before anyone came. It is so light and pretty. We love it, don’t we,
mein bubbli?
”

“Do you have an appointment with the doctor?” I asked, holding my arms out for Trevor. He was so light, so small it scared me.

“Wednesday morning,” Becky assured me. “We already have the taxi reserved.”

Another interesting Amish custom, the taxis. Because they won’t drive but want to go places farther and faster, they rent vehicles and drivers to take them.

“Good girl,” I said. “We need to take care of this little guy.”

We walked past the farm pond where several Canada geese swam gracefully. Suddenly, one goose near the edge of the pond turned bottoms up, its white under rump pointing to the sky as it searched the bottom for food. Hawk barked at it for form’s sake, but he didn’t leave our side.

“You’re a good boy, Hawk,” I said, petting his great head. “It’s not nice to chase the birds.”

“Do you want to come in and see my grandmother?” Becky asked when we reached the Stoltzfus farm. “I think she looks better today.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll come in. You’ve got lots of company, and I’d feel like an intruder.” I indicated the drive full of buggies.

I also didn’t want to go in and risk being seen and recognized by someone who might be there. Several Amishmen served in the Hand in Hand Fire Company here in Bird-in-Hand, and with my luck, one of them would be here.

“But I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I’ll watch Trevor for you tomorrow if you’d like. That way you can be with your grandmother and help hostess the post-funeral meal.”

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I’m on a vacation of sorts,” I said.

She hesitated, and then nodded. “I’ll bring him down early. Is that all right? And I’ll bring bottles and my milk.”

I nodded and walked slowly back home, Hawk still my companion. He and I watched a Red-tailed Hawk wheel and float on the air currents, then dive suddenly after a poor sparrow that was innocently flying toward a tree. A large horde of a hundred or so seagulls squawked and complained as they waddled over a field looking for fallen kernels of corn.

Lord, I love it here. I thank You for this beauty, this peace, and for these people. Be with Peter Hostetter and comfort him. Be with Annie Stoltzfus too. Help Jake find peace in You. Help him understand Your grace and forgiveness. And help me sort through my feelings for him and his for me—that is, if he has any for me
.

I came downstairs for supper just in time to overhear Jake talking to Mary.

“Mom, I have to apologize for my attitude this morning.” He sounded genuinely repentant. “I was upset about something that had nothing to do with you, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Hesitating in the doorway, I studied his broad shoulders, his wonderful dark hair, his strong arms. I knew his black eyes would be looking at Mary with a sincerity that would make her mother’s heart melt. It’d make mine melt too.

Mary looked at her son, imprisoned in a chair he hated, forced to live a life he would never have chosen. I could feel her pain for him from across the room.

“Thank you, Chake.” She touched his cheek with uncharacteristic emotion. “I understand.”

He gave a half smile. “I know you do, but that doesn’t make me any less wrong.” He paused for a beat and then said, “Right, Rose?”

I hadn’t realized he even knew I was in the room. “Right,” I said softly, proud of him for seeking her out.

He turned toward me. “Now I need to talk with you a minute.”

“Sure,” I said, hoping my eyes didn’t reveal quite how much those words meant to me. After this morning’s parting, I hadn’t been sure he’d ever want to talk again.

“Come into my living room,” he said. He smiled over his shoulder at his mother who was trying not to appear too interested. “How much time until supper?”

“Fifteen to twenty minutes.”

“Time enough,” he said.

I followed him into his apartment. His living room was clutter-free, the center of the room open to allow the chair easy movement. A deep navy leather sofa rested against one wall, a glider/rocker at right angles to it. A TV sat across the room from the furniture. A desk and bookcase filled the wall under one window, his school texts piled beside a notebook and a laptop computer. A set of free weights filled a corner and a large machine that exercised his legs for him filled another. There was no rug, and his chair glided easily to the sofa.

“Sit,” he said. “We need to talk.”

He looked cool and unflappable while my stomach was doing loop-de-loops about my insides, churning up enough acid to etch a whole collection of questionable engravings. I dried my damp palms on my thighs and sat. I was immediately distracted by how comfortable the couch was even if it was so deep that I couldn’t sit back and still have my feet touch the floor. I perched on the edge and gave Jake my attention.

“Rose, I owe you an apology too,” he began earnestly. “I was unconscionably rude this morning.”

I nodded. I wasn’t going to be quite the easy mark his mother was. “You were.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” There was that earnest stare, softening me just as I had known it would.

A touch of pride stiffened my backbone before total meltdown and enabled me to ask, “What makes you think you hurt me?”

“I saw you and Hawk standing there as I drove away.” He smiled gently. “I’ve rarely seen a more dejected looking pair.”

“That’ll teach me to hang around after a confrontation,” I muttered, feeling as exposed as the emperor when he found out the secret of his new clothes.

Jake cleared his throat, and suddenly he became very nervous. I watched him with interest and apprehension, wondering what in the world was coming next.

“I was struggling with some things,” he said, “and I didn’t know how to come to terms with them, so I took my frustration out on you and Mom.”

“Nothing excuses hurting people, Jake.” I sounded so pompous that I shuddered, but I was right. I lifted my chin and looked steadily at him.

He looked pained and a bit peeved. “I know. I said I was sorry.”

After a beat I said graciously, “Apology accepted.” I nodded my head in a dignified and queenly manner.

Then I made the mistake of leaning back on the sofa.

I found myself almost lying down, the thing was so deep. So much for grace and dignity. I struggled upright, trying to look casual, like sprawling awkwardly was my intended purpose. It was bad enough having to force a collected manner when my insides were rioting with nerves. When my outsides fell on their faces too, it was an uphill battle.

I glanced at Jake just in time to see him swallow a smile at my turtle on its back flailings. I flushed.

“And I presume that now you’ve come to terms with these issues that were bothering you?” I asked as composedly as I could manage.

He shrugged. “I guess. At least as much as I can come to terms with them.”

“But what happened between last night and this morning to make you so distressed?”
Tell me, please. I want to understand
.

He took a deep breath while he debated with himself. He was sitting facing me, his hands resting on his knees. I reached out and touched a hand.

“Tell me. Maybe I can help. Isn’t that what friends are for?”

He turned his hand over and held mine. He stared at their joining for a minute.

“You see, there’s this girl.”

I swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that had suddenly risen in my throat. “A girl?”
There’s a girl?

He nodded, still studying our hands.

“And you like her?” I was amazed I could still speak.

“I think I love her.”

“What?”
But what about me? You called me Tiger!

“My accident last night reminded me in crystal clarity that I can’t love a woman, any woman, especially this woman.”

“Nonsense,” I said, amazed that a cottonmouth could still form words. “Of course you can love.”
Just not her!

“Easy for you to say.” His tone was acerbic. His thumb ran back and forth over my knuckles. “Last night I had a dream. No, make that a nightmare. I was with this girl, and she was in terrible trouble, and I couldn’t help her. She was running and screaming and someone was chasing her, and I could only sit and watch. I yelled at the man, I swore at the man, I asked God to strike the man dead. But I couldn’t help her.” He said the words slowly, his teeth clenched with the intensity of his feelings. “I watched as the man grabbed her. She looked at me, pleading for my help. Then she was dead on the floor, the man was gone, and I was still in my chair screaming.”

I slid forward on the sofa until my knees were against his. “Jake, it was only a dream.”

“I woke up in a cold sweat,” he said, his eyes staring at some middle distance, seeing himself in the dream, feeling the agony and helplessness all over again. “And I realized two things. I had never dreamed about myself in a wheelchair before. I always dreamed about myself as I’d been my whole life, running, walking, riding my cycle. Last night I saw myself as I am: a man chained to a chair.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of sheer frustration. He looked at me, his eyes bleak. “Which brings me to the second thing I realized.” His hand gripped mine so hard it hurt. “I can’t love this girl, and I can’t let her love me.”

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe because I
knew
as clearly as if he’d said my name that he was talking about me and how he felt about me. Our gaze held as he stared at me in utter desolation and I stared back in unabashed wonder.

Jake thought he loved me!

I looked away first, mainly because I had to start breathing again or I’d pass out from oxygen deprivation. I took a couple of deep breaths and told myself to be calm.

“You’re saying you can’t love m—this girl because you’re a paraplegic?”

He nodded, back to studying our clasped hands. His thumb still rubbed softly across my knuckles, a soothing and wonderfully possessive thing.

“But what does she think, Jake? Doesn’t she get to make a choice here?”

He looked up immediately and with a fierce glare practically shouted, “No!”

I jumped in surprise. I reached for his other hand. “Jake, do you think that’s fair to her?”

“Anything else is unfair.” His stare was uncompromising.

I nodded as I heard a knock on the door between Jake’s rooms and the main house.

Elam stuck his head around the corner. “Mom says it’s time for supper.”

I took one last look at our clasped hands, then released him and stood. “I guess she’ll have to pray a lot, won’t she?”

Chapter 9

J
ake and I went to the kitchen and took our places at the table. John bowed his head and the rest of us followed suit. I peeked at one point, glancing over at Jake, still bemused by the knowledge that he loved me. That’s when I noticed Elam.

He sat with his eyes focused on Esther’s bent head. His face was impassive, and I wondered what he was thinking, feeling. After all that time wasted mooning over Mary Clare, was he realizing that he loved Esther? Now that she was leaving, did he realize what he was losing? Romantic that I was, I hoped so.

For her part, Esther kept her head bowed long after the rest of us had begun passing food. When she finally looked up, her eyes were bright with tears and her expression full of sadness. When I caught her eye, I smiled gently and winked. She smiled wanly back.

She would not look at Elam.

I knew I would miss Esther immensely. She had been at the farm from before my first visit. She was part of the family to me, sort of a surrogate daughter to Mary and John. When their daughter Ruth married and moved with her Isaiah to their farm near Honey Brook, Mary had missed her tremendously. Esther had helped alleviate the loneliness.