An Uncommon Grace (31 page)

The sound of Grace crying was enough to draw him to her, even if Elizabeth had not been there to ask him. What could make that strong woman cry enough to throw up? It must be a terrible thing.

“Grace?” he called as he reached the top of the stairs.

Another round of vomiting.

He followed the sound to a small bathroom at the end of the hallway. And there he found Grace on her knees in front of the commode. He knelt beside her and laid his hand on her back.

“My mother has herbs for stomachache. I can go back and get some.”

Grace shook her head.

“You do not have a stomachache?”

Grace shook her head again. And then she began heaving again. But there was nothing left to come up.

He saw that there were paper cups on the bathroom sink. He filled and handed one to her.

It seemed to help a little—to break the spell. She stopped crying, flushed the toilet, and shakily got to her feet, sipping the water Levi gave her.

“Tell me how to help you,” he said.

Her eyes were red and swollen and filled with such a terrible sadness. He did what many other people would have done under the circumstances. He simply gathered her into his arms and held her. Just as he would if it were little Sarah or Albert or Jesse who was crying and needed comforting.

She buried her face in his chest almost as though the one thing on earth she had to hold on to was him. Her arms went around his waist and her tears dampened the front of his shirt.

He had not anticipated this seeming so right, for the smell of her hair and the warmth of her body to feel as though she had been meant from the beginning of time to be his.

He could have stood there forever holding her, absorbing her into his heart, but he knew he could not.

He kissed the top of her head and held her at arm’s length. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “What caused this?”

Grace didn’t answer. She turned away from him, grabbed a washcloth, wet it with cold water, and, while leaning against the sink, held it against her swollen eyes. “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

Under normal circumstances, he might have chuckled at Grace’s little joke. But this time, Grace was not joking. Her voice was dead serious—and after all they had been through together, so was his.

“Yes, Grace.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “We are friends now.”

G
race could not believe that she had just cried her eyes out in the arms of an Amish farmer while standing in the middle of her grandma’s upstairs bathroom. He had been right to break the embrace. Otherwise she might have clung to him forever.

“When did you get here?” She folded the washcloth and laid it on the sink. “How did you know to come?”

“I saw too many electric lights on and thought Elizabeth or you might be in trouble.”

“I’m not the one in trouble,” she said. “It’s my sister. I think she’s in very, very deep trouble.”

He frowned. “What has happened?”

“Let’s go downstairs first. Grandma needs to know what I just found, too. Is she okay?”

“She’s worried about you,” he said. “She sent me up here to see if I could help.”

“Well,” she said, smiling, “you did. Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” Elizabeth was standing at the foot of the stairs. Her face was pinched with worry.

“Sit down, Grandma,” Grace said. “I think I’ve found out at least part of what’s been going on with Becky.”

Elizabeth sank into an armchair. “Tell me.”

With Levi sitting on the opposite couch, she did.

“All I can say,” Elizabeth commented when Grace was finished, “is what an incredibly inconvenient time this is for me to have heart issues.”

“If you hadn’t had the heart attack, I would probably still be in Afghanistan,” Grace pointed out. “At least I’m here now, and this thing with Becky would have happened anyway. It had nothing to do with either of us.”

“That’s true.”

“I am still wondering, why do you have all the lights on?” Levi asked. “It is very bright in here.”

“Grandma and I were checking every room in the house to make an inventory of possessions. We found out today that Becky has been secretly taking things and selling them to an antiques dealer. Possibly more than one antiques dealer. This is the first chance we’ve had to go through everything without her being here. Frankly, the last thing on our minds tonight was saving electricity.”

“Do you know the name of this man she has been writing?”

“Owen Peterson. That name is burned into my mind. I even have his prisoner ID number memorized. It was written on every envelope.”

“I’m sorry this has happened to your family.”

“I apologize for keeping you here so long. I know being here can cause trouble for you with your church.”

There was a long silence. And then Levi, a man who rarely smiled, let out a laugh. She was dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t think I can get in any worse trouble with my church than I already am. Bishop Weaver put me under the
Meidung
yesterday.”

“Good heavens!” Elizabeth was aghast. “You are being shunned? Already? Isn’t
there supposed to be a grace period?”

“Is this because of what Zillah accused you of?” Grace asked.

“No, not because of what Zillah accused me of. I am being shunned because I refuse to confess and ask forgiveness for my great sin.”

“Is Zillah banned, also?” Grace asked.

“No.”

“Well, that hardly seems fair.”

“Actually, in my people’s eyes, it is very fair. Zillah has confessed her sin and asked forgiveness from the church. She is now, in their eyes, in a right relationship with both the church and God.”

“But she’s lying,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“My church does not know that.”

“What will you do, Levi?” Grace asked. “Your family and your church are your life.”

“I’ll learn to live alone. I’ll work my fields. And I’ll wait.”

Levi mounted Angel Dancer. He was very concerned for the Connor family, but there was little he could do. He was certain, though, that it had at least comforted her to have someone to talk to.

It was very late, but he did not feel like going back to his room yet. Tonight had that balmy feel of certain spring evenings where everything seemed possible. There was the music of the little frogs up by the pond, and a whip-poor-will sang in the distance. He didn’t feel tired at all anymore. The rawness of his upset over being shunned had begun to ease. It was still a great, aching void in his life, but he felt less lonely after spending a short time this evening with his neighbors. At least they believed him over Zillah. Without question.

Instead of heading home he decided to ride farther down the road, just for the pleasure of breathing in the honeysuckle-scented night air. He allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Grace, every nuance of her voice and face. He allowed himself to remember the feel of Grace’s arms around his waist. He even allowed himself to dwell upon the feel of kissing her the day she almost drowned.

These heady feelings he was allowing himself to savor were as close to experiencing a
Rumspringa
as he had ever come. Content in his work, wanting to be a good example for his younger siblings, he had never felt the need for a “running around” time—until now.

Speaking of
Rumspringa
—it occurred to him as he rode past Grace’s fields, fields that had lain fallow now for the past two years—that he could even purchase an automobile and experience the sensation of driving if he wanted to. There was nothing to lose anymore. He had already lost!

A car.

So many times in the dead of winter riding against the cold wind in his buggy with no windshield, bundled up against the cold but feeling the chill wind seeping down into his bones, no matter how warmly he dressed, he would be passed by cars.

Sometimes he would think about how warm it must be in those cars. And how there was probably music playing. And how nice it would be to drive along in warmth and comfort. He would think about how easy it would be to simply park that car when he got to his destination. How he wouldn’t have to wipe down a car to make certain the sweat didn’t freeze on its body, or find water for it, or make sure there was feed for it. A car was sometimes a great temptation to a young Amish man.

Yes. At least for tonight, he would allow himself to think about forbidden things.

Levi had left, and Grandma was in bed. Grace lay on the couch staring up at the dark ceiling, wondering just exactly how foolish Becky had been with this man.

She heard a car stop outside. Becky and her girlfriend were home from the movies. Supposedly. At least that’s where Becky had said she was going. Grace intended to let her sister go straight up to her bedroom tonight. There would be no questions. Why bother? They would serve no purpose because Grace no longer believed a word her sister said.

Levi rode Angel Dancer into his barn, put her in a stall, and headed toward his room above the workshop. His mother surprised him by opening her door and shouting at him.

“Levi! Come. Now!”

He headed toward the house at a dead run. Claire Shetler rarely raised her voice, and unless she was wrestling a colicky baby, she never, ever stayed up past ten o’clock. It was nearly eleven o’clock now. She wasn’t supposed to even talk to him, let alone allow him inside her house. Something was terribly wrong.

“What is it,
Maam
?”

“It is Jesse. We have been waiting and waiting for you to come home.”

“Is he hurt?”

“No. But only by the grace of God.”

He walked into a scene that he could never have imagined. At his mother’s kitchen table the glow of an oil lamp cast its shadows upon both Albert and Jesse, who sat very still. They looked utterly cowed and frightened.

“What has happened here?” he asked.

“Tell him, Jesse,” his mother said. “Tell him what you have done.”

Jesse was shaking.

“Tell me what you have done,” Levi said.

“I—I found a gun.”

Levi’s heart nearly stopped. The image of this small, mischievous boy with a gun in his hand was a horrific picture. Anything could have happened. “Where did you find this gun?”

“In the tall weeds by the fence. I was climbing the apple tree and I looked down and I saw it.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I brought it home.”

“And?”

“I hid it under my bed.”

Levi glanced at Albert, who looked equally upset. “Did you know of this?”

Albert nodded.

“Did you boys think it was a toy?”

Both of them shook their heads.

“Then why did you do this thing? Why did you not come and get me or
Maam
?”

“
Er heaet gut, awwer er hicht schlecht,
” Claire said. “Your brother hears well, but he obeys poorly!”

Jesse now had tears streaming down his face. “We wanted to have it with us if the bad man came back.”

Levi closed his eyes, absorbing the pain this statement caused. How frightened the little boys had been to do such a terrible thing. It broke his heart. “You were going to shoot the bad man with the gun you found?”

Both of them nodded. Jesse hiccuped a sob.

“Where is this gun?”

The boys pointed at the dry sink where his mother’s tin breadbox sat.

“I put it in there until you came home,” Claire said. “I did
not know what to do with it.” She glanced at her two small sons. “Or them.”

He opened the breadbox and drew out the gun. He knew that fingerprints were important to police officers, but he didn’t think it was possible for it to have any fingerprints left on it. Not after it had lain in the weather for many days. Not after it had been handled by two small boys and his mother.

He opened up the chamber and counted three bullets left in a six-bullet gun. There was every chance that this was the weapon that had killed his stepfather.

It was a miracle from God that the boys had managed not to kill themselves.

“What will we do?” Claire asked.

“I will take this up to the Connors’ first thing tomorrow morning, and they will call the sheriff.”

“No. I don’t want you to wait until then. I don’t want that thing beneath my roof for one more night.”

“It is late.”

“I don’t care.” She shuddered. “This thing should not be here. I don’t want it here.”

“Then I will take it to the Connors’ now.” He pulled a paper sack from a handful his mother had stashed in a cabinet and carefully put the gun inside of it.

“You boys know you did wrong by not taking
Maam
or me to the gun? You know you should never have touched it?”

Once again, the two little boys nodded. Jesse wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“You know that we are not a people of violence, and yet you hid it anyway. This is a grave thing you have done,” Levi said. “I think the two of you will be cleaning out that long fencerow tomorrow with hand scythes in the hot sun while you think about what you have done.”

“That’s all?” Jesse acted as if he could not believe his ears.

“If it were any other time, under any other circumstances that you found this weapon and hid it from us, the consequences would be severe. But we have all been through so much, I understand your fear. You should go to bed now and plan an early morning. It will take nearly all day to finish clearing the fencerow.”

“Yes.” His mother affirmed Levi’s words. “You heard your brother.
Die Zeit fer in Bett is nau!
The time to go to bed is now.”

The two trudged off, but just before they got to the stairs, Jesse turned around. His chin was quivering and his voice sounded as though he were holding back more tears.

“Will you come and sleep here with us tonight,
Bruder
? When you are here, I feel safe.”

Levi looked a question at his mother.

She nodded.

“I will, but just for tonight.”

As soon as they left, she sat down at the table, put her face in her hands, and broke down for the first time since the funeral. “Why can’t the
Englisch
leave us alone? We do them no harm. We ask nothing from anyone except our own people. And now I find my boys with a weapon hidden beneath their bed—it is too much!”