A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (18 page)

Maybe it was a terrible sin to lie to an Amish person, but she figured that if she could talk him into letting her stay until Thursday, it wouldn’t be a lie after all.

And maybe he wouldn’t even be around for the next few days. Poking her head out the cabin door, she blinked against the bright sunshine. Tall trees swayed to the right and left, their green leaves thick and abundant. She knew the little path between them led over the little hill and back through the orchard, but from here all
she could see was the knoll of tall grass and wildflowers. To the left, a small creek ran alongside the hut, and she had gotten some water from it yesterday and set it to heat on the woodstove. Warm water was better for washing up, and she had decided it was safer to boil it before she drank it.

Wow, that sun was warm. She said a little prayer of thanks for the beautiful day. Bad weather would have made it hard to stay out here in a bare-bones shack.

A slight breeze tousled her black hair as she strode past the trees and up the slight rise. Not a person in sight. But the dirt path under her feet was rutted and overgrown with brambles here and there. It had to be hard, maneuvering around the orchard in a wheelchair. What had happened to James? Had he been born without the use of his legs, or had he been in an accident? In the local newspaper that she’d read at the police station,
The Budget
, there’d been two accounts of men injured in farming accidents. One of them had lost a finger; the other had died. Had James been hurt by a plow? It was sad for a young, attractive man like that to be stuck in a wheelchair.

Accidents were terrible. Her real dad had been killed in a construction accident. She’d been a little kid back then, so it really didn’t hit her at the time. She told her friends that she missed him, but the truth was, she barely remembered him at all. There were vague memories of riding on his shoulders and him sitting at the foot of her bed, reading to her at night.

Reading from the book of children’s Bible stories. He used to lean on one side, a pillow tucked under his arm. Sometimes when she closed her eyes she remembered the gravelly sound of his voice. He’d had a way of reading each chapter with a curious tone, as if it was the first time he had ever come across such an amazing story. And then he would finish a story and cup her face with his
big hands and plant a kiss on her forehead. And Shandell had known it was time to close her eyes and sleep, safe and secure in her bed.

That was the dad she missed, but she couldn’t tell her friends that she longed to go back to a five-year-old’s existence.

With a sigh, she headed down toward the little creek. It was nice of James to let her stay here—she was grateful for that—but it was lonely. She crossed her arms over her chest, embracing the book that she had tucked under her zipped hoodie. After Dad died, the book of Bible stories had stayed in the back of a drawer for a long time, tucked away like so many memories. It wasn’t until Shandell was fifteen and helping Mom pack up the apartment to move in with Phil that she had discovered the book she had loved as a little kid.

The heel of her boot slipped on loose stones, and she hopped down closer to the creek and walked along until she found a sunny patch with a brown stone, perfect for sitting. Was this a fishing creek? Did James ever come here with his brothers and sisters? She figured there would be lots of them, because she’d read that Amish people usually had lots of kids.

Unzipping her jacket, she opened her book and leafed through the pages of colorful illustrations surrounded by decorative borders.

The book fell open to the story of the wise builder, Shandell’s favorite.

In Matthew chapter seven, Jesus told the story of a wise man who built his house on rock. When the rains came and the streams rose and the winds blew, the house was fine because its foundation was solid rock. But another man who built his house on sand? The rain and wind made it collapse.

Shandell liked the picture of builders carrying rocks, and another of a cute little stone house with two windows that resembled eyes.
The story that Jesus had told was such a good lesson in life: to lay your foundation on your solid faith, not on false promises and people who will shift away like sand under your feet.

Wow, she’d really fallen for that one, hadn’t she? She’d only read this story a hundred times, and yet she had been foolish enough to trust Gary. Any house he built would be like a sand castle on the beach.

What had happened to her? She used to be such a good kid. She used to get along with her mom. But things had begun to fall apart last year when Phil lost his job. In the beginning, Phil had made Mom happy, and he’d been an easygoing guy, back when he was working.

But now? Phil was miserable, and he took it out on everyone around him. Usually, that was Shandell, who had the responsibility of keeping the house clean and putting together some kind of dinner each night while Mom was working.

In a couple of days, she’d be back home, serving miserable Phil again. She smoothed her fingertips over the orange border of the picture. She wanted to go home to Mom, but she wished that she never had to face Phil again.

Oh, grow up, Shanny
.

He’s your mom’s husband now, and he’s not a bad person
.

It was Phil’s drinking that made their lives so unstable. Somehow, it felt better to blame the alcohol. When Phil started drinking, the rock foundation had crumbled. Their house had shifted on its foundation of sand.

And now it was all tumbling down.

Well, not really. Shandell knew she occasionally exaggerated things. And she would be missing the point of the story about the wise builder if she blamed her unhappiness on Phil’s drinking. Shandell was the one who had run off with Gary. That had been her house of sand. And as soon as she got home, she was going to
have a heart-to-heart with Mom. She wasn’t sure what to say about Phil, but it would be good to be honest with Mom again.

The sound of a man’s voice made her heart leap. “Hallo?” his voice thundered.

Adrenaline popped in her veins. She closed the book and clasped it under one arm as she jumped up and turned toward the creek.

Someone was coming …

S
uch a glorious day!

Rachel knew that April showers were needed for spring flowers, but she enjoyed the bright splash of colors that emerged with the first flowers of the season, along with the sunshine that made her feel calm and smooth as melted butter.

The good weather made for a perfect laundry day, and already Rachel and her mamm had taken in two loads of laundry, fresh and dry from the sun. With more clothes and sheets to pin to the line once this batch was dry, Betsy had told Rachel she could set up her easel out in the yard and paint while the laundry was drying.

“There’s not much time for too many other chores on a big laundry day,” Mamm said. As long as she stayed mindful of the time and took care not to get any paint on the clean washing, Rachel could paint outside beside the hanging clothes.

Now she swirled her brush in a blob of pink that was so bright, she had to smile. She had decided to cover her sorrow and brighten
the shadows in her heart with wild, loud colors. These paintings were different from the quaint, pastoral scenes of cows and barns and quilts on a clothesline. One canvas showed a close-up of clothes hanging on the line, but these dresses were the deepest blues, brightest reds, and sunniest yellows she had ever seen. On another canvas, she had painted purple pears. There were also blue hens and the silhouette of a simple house with a pink and orange April sunset heating the sky behind it.

All in all, it had been a good day of painting and laundry. Rachel was happy to balance the fun of painting with a chore that kept the house in order.

The sun was dipping low in the sky when a gray buggy came up the lane. It was one of the Lapps’ horses, with Edna Lapp driving. She expected James’s mother to continue on to the barn and visit with Betsy, but the buggy paused right beside the daffodils that bordered the lane near Rachel. Quickly, she placed her palette on the grass and walked over to greet Edna.

“I’m on my way to talk with Gideon Yoder, but I wanted to stop in and visit you.” Edna wrapped the reins around the stub and stepped to the ground. Her face looked drawn and tired.

“Do you want some tea?” Rachel offered.

“No time for that, and I haven’t much of a stomach for it after this afternoon. Such a scare there was! Mark was driving James home from Paradise, and the new horse went wild. Pulled their buggy off the road.”

Oh, no!
Rachel’s stomach dropped. As the memory of the van accident began to stir anxiety, Rachel’s fingers found the pins in her apron. “Is everyone okay?”

“Mark and James are fine. James was able to stop the horse, but not before it tore through some of the Yoders’ spinach. We’ll need to patch up the field.”

“I’m glad everyone’s okay. I’m sure the Yoders will understand.”

“We’re grateful it wasn’t worse. Jimmy was reluctant to buy this horse, and I suppose we should have thought better than to take on a Morgan named Rowdy. It’s hard to train a horse that’s been subjected to harsh conditions. But Mark had his heart set, and he’s been working with the horse.”

Rachel knew that James’s younger brother had a way with horses. Loving and patient, Mark enjoyed training and grooming them—a necessary chore in every Amish home. “Some horses are more stubborn than others,” Rachel said. “I’m sure Mark will have Rowdy in line soon.”

“Gott willing. But it made me see that Mark is too young and inexperienced to be driving into Paradise. He was bringing James home from his new procedure. Electric wires to heal his legs! Isn’t that a strange thing?”

“James told me about it. I pray that it helps him.”

“He still has hope. His dat, not so much.”

Rachel noticed lines of weariness around Edna’s eyes, and she thought of the hospital vigil and steadfast care Edna had provided for her son. So many long hours.

“And what do you make of it, Edna?” Rachel asked. “Do you think this could help James?”

“I know my son. Right now, he needs to return to the orchard he loves. If this will help him get back on his feet, then I’m grateful to Gott and the Englisher doctors.

“I know you two are planning to marry, and I know you’ve tried to support James. He just doesn’t appreciate Gott’s blessings right now, but he could use your help. He’s going to need a daily ride into Paradise for this new therapy. His dat doesn’t approve, and I can’t be doing it every day.”

A ride to Paradise … Rachel wished it was that simple. She would cherish the chance to help James, but if he rejected her in front of his mamm and his family, that she couldn’t bear.

“I want to help,” she told Edna, “but James doesn’t want me around anymore. He said so.”

“Did he, now? He’s been a mite grumpy lately. Can’t say I blame him on that. But a mother can see past cross words, and I know he’s not grumpy about you. For James, seeing you ride up the lane would be a better sight than rhubarb pie. And we both know he favors rhubarb.”

Rachel blinked back tears as she smiled. “Do you really think so?”

“I know my son. Sometimes he needs a push,” Edna said. “Come around. And if your parents can spare you, it’d be wonderful good to have someone to drive James. Right now, it’s one more hardship that’ll be difficult for our family to bear.” She climbed back into the buggy, and headed down the lane.

Rachel felt lighter, a burden lifted from her heart. She left her easel and the laundry and raced after the buggy.

“Edna!” she called. In a few loping strides, she had caught up with the buggy and waiting horse. “If it’s okay with Mamm and Dat, what time do you need me?”

“Eight would be right fine.” Edna’s smile softened the creases in her face. “See you tomorrow, Gott willing.”

Rachel ran inside to find Mamm. Driving James to Paradise would be a good way to help, and it would give them time together, every day. Oh, please, dear Gott, let Mamm and Dat say yes!

There was hope for James and her. A simple hope.

A
s soon as his mother had left for the Yoders’, James had rolled out to the sugar shack, not sure what he would find there. He knew Gott’s will would be done, but he hoped that he was in time to stop her from leaving.