At Home in Pleasant Valley (30 page)

She managed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. He could see her distress, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Except leave her alone. The thought occurred to him, and his negative reaction to that startled him.

He couldn't leave her alone. This wasn't just about fulfilling his promise to Ezra any longer. It was all tangled up with Rachel's valiant efforts to do her best for the children and with his instinctive need to help her, regardless of the cost.

T
he
final slow hymn had been sung, and Bishop Mose stood to pray. His gentle face radiated love as he blessed the people. Rachel's heart warmed with it. Tired as she had been after the long day at market yesterday, worship had rejuvenated her.

Talk rustled through the Stoltzfus farmhouse as the service ended. “Mammi, can we go outside?” Becky tugged on her arm.

“Ja, but walk out nicely with your grossmutter.” She knew her mamm found it a joy to greet her friends with her grandchildren by her side. “I must speak with Leah.”

Mamm, hearing her words, nodded and took Joseph's hand. “We will save a place at the table.”

Daadi stood, cradling a sleeping Mary against his shoulder. “You go, and give our best to Leah. Maybe this one will sleep a little longer.”

Rachel made her way between the rows of backless benches, heading for the spot where Leah sat with Elizabeth snuggled close to her side. She liked seeing the bond Leah had formed with her stepdaughter.

She didn't like the fact that Leah had come to worship today. Nearly four hours on a backless bench wasn't her idea of the rest the doctor had ordered.

She moved along the row, exchanging greetings with those on the women's side of the worship area. The Stoltzfus place was ideal for worship, built so that the living room and dining room opened into each other, giving plenty of space for the service.

House worship was held every other Sunday, rotating among the members. Depending on whose turn it was, they might be in a house one time, in someone's basement the next, and in a barn the following
one. When she and Ezra had hosted worship, they'd spent a week cleaning out the barn beforehand.

She had to see if there was anything she could do to help Leah. And then she'd tell Leah of her plans for the greenhouse. The ideas had been bubbling since she got home, tired but satisfied, from market yesterday. It would be gut to hear Leah's words of encouragement.

Some of the men had already begun removing the benches, carrying them outside for the lunch that would follow worship. She skirted past them, smiling and nodding, and fetched up beside Leah, bending over to enfold her in a warm embrace.

“What are you doing here? I'm sure the doctor wouldn't approve of this.”

Leah rose, leaning a bit heavily on Rachel's arm. “I asked and he said it was all right.” She winced, rubbing the small of her back. “Of course, he probably doesn't know how long our service is.”

“Ja, that's for certain sure.” Leah's mother, who'd been seated on the other side of her, ran a soothing hand along her daughter's back. “You go along with Rachel and have a nice visit. Elizabeth and I will see if we can help with the food, won't we, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, ja.” Elizabeth's eyes filled with love when she gazed at her adopted grandmother. “We'll help.”

“Wish I had a daughter so eager to help,” Rachel said once Leah's mother and daughter had left. “My Becky is probably getting into mischief already, if Mamm has let her go off.”

“I'd be pleased if Elizabeth felt secure enough to seek out some mischief.” Leah's smile lit her face. “Sounds like we're always wishing for something we don't have.”

“I guess so.” Her arm around Leah's expanding waist to support her, Rachel led the way toward the door. “Let's find a real chair for you to sit in, and I'll get you a cool drink. It feels like summer in here already.”

“It does at that.”

They worked their way toward the door that stood open to the sunshine. Folks still stood in small knots, talking. Judging by the grave faces, Rachel knew the topic of conversation.

“Bad news about Eli Fisher,” she said. “Everyone's upset to think he'll not be with us much longer.”

Leah nodded. “He's a gut man and a gut minister. It sounds as if the Lord has need of him in Heaven.”

“And that means we'll be praying on who will be the next minister.”

“It's a weighty decision, to think of the name you wish to whisper to the bishop.” Leah grasped the porch banister to help her descend the two steps. “At least we know that the final decision will be made by the Lord.”

The Biblical tradition of choosing the new minister by lot from among those recommended by the people of the congregation meant that everyone accepted the decision with gratitude for God's guidance. Still, Rachel had to confess that she had not been overjoyed when Ezra's name had been put forward the last time there had been an opening.

Had the lot fallen on him, their lives would have changed in ways she couldn't even imagine. A minister had to continue with the work he already had, tend his own family, and still find time to minister to his flock and preach on Sunday.

The lot hadn't fallen on him, but their lives had changed anyway.
It was God's will,
she murmured to herself, hoping that one day she'd think those words and really mean them.

Betty Stoltzfus saw them coming toward the picnic tables. “Wait, wait.” She hurried to drag a padded rocking chair from the porch to the end of one of the long tables. “Sit down and be comfortable.” She patted the chair.

Rachel helped Leah to sit, concerned about how cautiously Leah lowered herself. “Are you having pain?”

“Not much. I'm all right, Rachel. Don't fuss so.”

Rachel and Betty exchanged glances over Leah's head—the look of women who'd already had children and knew how uncomfortable the final month could be.

“You sit, too, Rachel, and keep Leah company. I have some lemonade ready to come out.” Betty bustled away toward the kitchen.

Leah glanced at Rachel, looking a little embarrassed. “I'm sorry I snapped. Daniel said coming to worship would be too much, and he was right, but I'm trying to keep things as normal as possible. Anyway,
there was something I wanted to speak to you about, and I knew I'd have a chance here.”

“I would come to you, anytime.” Rachel was assailed by guilt. “I'm sorry I didn't get over this week.” She'd been busy, but that was no excuse to ignore Leah.

“I was fine.” Leah patted her arm. “Mamm has been coming by every day, and folks have brought food. With the children in school, there's not enough for me to do.”

“Get plenty of rest and enjoy it,” Rachel said promptly. She didn't have to think twice about that. “Once the baby comes, you'll be only too busy. But what did you want to talk to me about?”

Something about babies, she'd guess. It was hard for Leah to think of anything else right now.

“It's Anna.” Leah's voice dropped on the word, as if she didn't want anyone to hear the name of her young sister, who'd run off to the English world nearly a year earlier. “I've heard from her.”

The smile slid from Rachel's face. “Oh, Leah.”

Rachel clutched her friend's hand, not sure whether to be happy or not. She knew how much suffering accompanied the loss of a beloved sibling. And as the elder, Leah had felt guilty, too, as if she somehow could have prevented it. “How is she? Is she all right?”

Leah nodded, tears sparkling. “She seems to be, though whether things are as rosy as she pretends, I don't know.”

“Where is she? Did she tell you?”

“She didn't say, but the envelope was postmarked a town in Illinois.” Leah sighed a little. “I don't know why she feels she has to hide. She knows we accepted her decision.”

“Maybe she's not so sure of it herself.”

Leah swallowed, probably because of the tears that clogged her throat. “She's not with that boy anymore. I never thought that would last. But she has a job and a room to live in. She says she's gotten her GED, and she's even planning to take some college courses in the fall.” She sighed. “It seems wrong to be hoping that she'd find things difficult out there.”

Out there among the English. Rachel knew what Leah was feeling,
because she'd been there herself—almost longing for Johnny to fail, if that was what it took to bring him back to them.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly.

“I know.” Leah squeezed her hand. “It's funny. It almost seems as if Anna and I have traded places. Imagine our Anna actually wanting more learning.”

“Maybe she's grown up some since she's been away.”

“That was what I always wished for. I just never thought it would come this way.” Leah sighed. “Anyway, I wanted you to know about it, because you understand.”

“Ja, I do. I know what it is to feel helpless to make things better. But at least you've heard from her. You know she's well and taking care of herself. That's better than wondering. Imagining.”

“My imagination is too gut, that's for sure. But I trust that God is watching over her, and now I can picture her life.”

Rachel's throat tightened, remembering all the times she'd struggled to picture what Johnny was doing, how he was, during those years when they hadn't been in touch.

Leah must have known what she was thinking, because she touched her hand lightly. “Enough worry about things we can't affect. Tell me how it went for you at market yesterday.”

“Ach, better than I ever imagined.” She couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on her face. “Leah, I made more money in a day than I've ever made before in my life. It felt so gut to be earning for my children.”

“That's wonderful-gut news. I'm happy for you.”

Rachel glanced toward where the children played, but instead of their running forms, she was seeing rows of flowers and shrubs, blooming in her garden.

“If I can just get seedlings started in the greenhouse, I'll have plenty of plants to take to market every week. And I was thinking that I would put in more perennials and even some small shrubs and trees. I could have a regular nursery business if I work at it.”

She turned to Leah. But instead of the enthusiasm she expected, there was a look of caution on Leah's face.

“Are you sure that's a gut idea? I mean, won't it be a lot of work?”

“For sure, it will be work. But if I can make enough to provide for the young ones without selling the farm, that will be worth any amount of labor.”

“It will take so much of your time. And then there's the bookkeeping you'd have to do if you actually started a business. And the taxes, and . . .”

“You think I can't do it.” A chill settled around Rachel's heart. Leah was her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone, and Leah thought she wasn't capable of this project.

“It's not that,” Leah said, but her voice betrayed the truth. “I just feel you ought to think on it more. Talk to your parents.”

“I know what they think without talking to them. They think I should sell the farm and move in with them.”

Leah leaned forward, putting her hand over Rachel's. “I don't want to discourage you. I just think you have to be careful, that's all. You understand, don't you?”

“Ja. I understand.” She tried to keep the flatness she felt out of her voice. She'd thought she'd known what to expect from her friend. It seemed she was mistaken.

“Rachel . . .”

“Ach, there's Becky, halfway up the apple tree.” She didn't know when she'd been so glad to see her daughter getting into mischief. “I'd best go and see to her.” She hurried off before she could let Leah see how disappointed she was.

•   •   •

“Becky
is all right, ja?”

Mary Yoder, their schoolteacher, watched as Becky scurried off to her grossdaadi once Rachel had gotten her down from the tree. She'd approached while Rachel was still looking up at her errant daughter. Maybe it was the presence of her teacher that had cut short Becky's complaints.

“She's fine, though I sometimes wonder why.” Rachel made an effort not to let her frustration show in her voice as she smiled at the young woman. “She's far too daring, that's what she is. Takes after her daadi in that.”

Mary nodded, but she didn't smile in return, and that set off all Rachel's maternal alarms.

“Mary? Is there some problem with Becky in school?”

“She's a fine scholar,” Mary said, almost too quickly. “I've just been thinking—well, perhaps I could come by the house sometime this week to talk. Would that be all right?”

Rachel opened her mouth to ask the questions that flooded her mind and then shut it again. Obviously Mary didn't want to talk about school issues at the after-church meal.

She took a breath and tried to erase the worry from her face. “I'll be happy to have a chance to talk. Stop by any afternoon, whenever it suits you.”

Teacher Mary moved off toward the picnic table, leaving Rachel with more questions than answers. It wasn't unusual for the teacher to come calling, but it hadn't happened before with Becky.

Am I making mistakes with the children, Father? I want so much to do that right. Please, guide me and grant me patience and humility.

“And how was your day at market, Rachel? You didn't find it too tiring?”

Isaac had come up behind her, and she was uneasily aware that he might have overheard her conversation with Mary. Still, what difference did it make if he had? Isaac was family.

“It was a long day, but very gut.” The enthusiasm she'd felt when she talked about market with Leah had disappeared, and she tried to regain it. “Everything I took with me sold, so I'm thankful for that.”

“Gut, gut.” But Isaac didn't sound convinced, and his gaze avoided hers.

Her heart sank. Isaac no doubt intended to say something she didn't want to hear—probably more about selling him the farm. She'd hoped he'd respect her request for time to consider.

“About this business of going to market. Do you really think that's appropriate, with you widowed not even a year already?”