Read Grace's Forgiveness Online
Authors: Molly Jebber
Bishop Weaver removed his hat and hung it on a sturdy new maple rack displaying thick hooks Mark had nailed to the wall next to the front door.
Mark should’ve prepared answers for questions Bishop Weaver and others might ask about his family. “Have a seat.” He opened the windows and breathed in. “It looks like the clouds have departed.” He approached his guest. “Would you like anything to eat or drink? It’s close to eleven thirty. I have stew I can heat.”
“Nothing for me, danki.” Bishop Weaver placed his hat on his lap. “Levi Helmuth told me about your parents’ and the Stoltzfuses’ accidents and the fire. The Stoltzfuses were good friends of mine. I was surprised to hear they are with God in Heaven. You’re a young man to have suffered such tragedy and hardship.”
Mark frowned and folded his hands in his lap. “I miss my parents and the Stoltzfuses. The haus and barn were replaceable.” He heaved a deep breath. “With God’s help, I was able to move on with my life.”
The bishop leaned back against the feather-filled black cushions and drummed his fingers on the oak armrest. “Levi told me you’re a talented carpenter.” He pointed. “Your oak desk and matching spindle chair sitting in the corner are exquisite. I now realize those pieces match the furniture you and I are occupying. You do fine work.”
“Danki. I bought and am opening a furniture store next to Grace and Sarah’s Dry Goods Shop a week from Saturday. I’ll sell similar chairs, settees, desks, and tables, along with potato bins, cashboxes, toys, and household items. You’re wilkom to stop in and browse.”
The bishop moved to the door. “I will, and I’ll also spread the word we have a new furniture store in town.”
The man’s offer was generous. Mark appreciated his kindness. “I would be grateful if you would.”
The bishop stopped. “I hope you’ll like living in Berlin. We’re a close community. The townsfolk help those in need of clothes, money, food, and care. We keep to ourselves. I ask you to do the same. Englischers visit and buy our goods, but otherwise leave us alone. We don’t want any trouble from the outside world.” He withdrew a booklet from his jacket pocket and passed it to Mark. “Please read our Ordnung. You have been born and raised in the Amish faith, but each community has its own set of rules. You’ll be expected to follow ours if, by chance, they differ from the ones you’re accustomed to.”
Mark accepted the Ordnung. “I understand.”
He
wouldn’t cause any trouble. He couldn’t help it if trouble followed him. He hadn’t been sure how to answer Grace when she’d asked him how his barn caught on fire.
It hadn’t been long ago when Abel, his drunken bruder, had shown up at his haus in Lancaster. He’d asked for money, knocked over a lantern, and set fire to Mark’s barn when leaving. Before help arrived, high winds and grass fed the flames and the fire burned out of control and spread, destroying everything he owned, except his workshop. Thankful he’d hidden his money in his workshop and not in his haus, he was able to buy what he needed to move to Berlin.
His bruder hadn’t meant to do it, but for his bruder to still have the nerve to ask for money had disappointed him. He had begged him to turn his life around, to no avail.
His neighbors in Lancaster knew his new location. If his bruder found out where he lived and came to his haus, the bishop and community wouldn’t approve. He loved his bruder, in spite of his bad judgment. He’d continue to pray for Abel to turn back to God and his Amish life.
“I’ll expect you to attend our church service a week from Sunday. Our services are held every two weeks. Mr. Ropp donated land to the church to build a separate barn and stable on his property for the purpose of holding services. He’s on South Street. You’ll find the barn and a sign out front not far from here. The ladies bring a simple but delicious meal for us to enjoy after I finish delivering my sermon. Do you have any questions?”
“No. Danki for the directions.”
“Get acquainted with the people in our community. I’ll introduce you to our members on a Sunday of my choosing and ask you to acknowledge your agreement to follow our Ordnung. Then I’ll ask the members to accept you into our Amish order.”
“I understand, and I’m looking forward to it.”
The bishop shook Mark’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
Mark followed the bishop outside, retrieved the man’s horse, and bid him farewell. He waited until the bishop had reached the end of the long dirt road before heading inside. The bishop had spoken in a gruff voice and been direct with his points. He’d been kind and wilkoming too. Mark respected him. The bishop seemed to have a genuine concern for the people in the community. Mark liked him.
They had talked for longer than Mark had thought.
Two o’clock already.
Hunger pangs rumbled in his stomach. What should he fix for dinner? The first thing he’d do was start a good fire.
Mark went into the sitting room and headed for the fireplace. He added small pieces of kindling to the two logs, lit a match, and waited a few seconds. He swung out the pole hook and removed the black cast iron pot before it became too hot. He reached for the old bellows and used it to encourage the flames.
His daed had taught both him and his bruder how to build and maintain a good fire. Even though he had a small stove, he still liked using the pot for his stew. It reminded him of his daed building a fire and his mamm cooking food this way.
He snatched the pot, carried it to the kitchen, and set it near the old icebox. The leftover vegetable and venison mixture would satisfy his hankering for a hot meal. After dumping it into the kettle, he carried it back to the pole hook, slipped it on, and placed it on the low-burning fire.
Beautiful Grace popped in his mind. No other woman had stirred him like she had. Except for her birthmark, her skin was flawless. Her smile lit up the room. Had she experienced the same spark he had when they talked? Her gaze held his before he left, and she beamed when he told her he’d be working next door.
The venison stew was nice and warm. He breathed in the scent of the meat, carrots, green beans, onions, and tomatoes.
Good choice.
He snatched two thick towels and removed the pot from the fireplace and returned it to the kitchen. From the cupboard he removed a bowl then ladled the hot mixture into it, set it on the kitchen table, bowed his head, and gave danki to God for his food and meeting Grace. He’d had a wonderful day. Minutes later, he’d finished his dinner and put his dishes in the sink.
Crash!
Horses neighed.
Slam!
Mark dashed outside to his large gray barn, noticed the doors open, and darted inside. Hens flapped their wings and squawked, hogs grunted, and the horses nickered with nervousness. His ladder lay on top of a metal tub. Not in its proper place. He would’ve never left it there. The ladder must’ve fallen and created the noise.
He moved to the haystacks. They’d been moved. Had his handcrafted furniture in the workshop been disturbed? He rushed there. He threw open the door and studied the shelves and hooks on the walls. Tools hung in place and his things were right where he’d left them. If any of his furniture and such had been destroyed or harmed, these things would’ve been impossible to replace in time to open his shop.
He returned to the barn and circled behind a pile of tall haystacks and found half-eaten butter cookies, an empty can of beans, and ajar of water. Ashes lay on gathered logs. Mark rubbed his chin. The intruder had picked a good spot to conceal his things where Mark wouldn’t have a reason to look earlier.
A chill marched down his spine.
Abel.
Why would his bruder hide in his barn? He hadn’t hesitated to barge into his haus in Lancaster the last time he needed money. He had no idea what decisions Abel would make these days. Nonetheless, whoever the person was who had kumme here had put his barn at risk of catching fire. He picked up a used match. He hadn’t seen anyone. The intruder must’ve kumme and gone when he was sleeping last night. Had the stranger returned for something, but what? Why didn’t the intruder wait until dark? He couldn’t have gone far, but there were plenty of places for the intruder to hide in the woods behind his haus.
Mark strode outside and surveyed the grounds. The quiet, dense woods showed no movement, but it would be easy to hunker down among the trees and thick brush. Birds chirped and the wind whistled. A red squirrel scampered up an old oak tree. He walked the grounds again. Whoever had been in his barn was long gone. Shaking his head, he went back inside the haus.
He lifted the shotgun off metal hooks above the door and opened it. A bullet was chambered inside. This shotgun had kumme in handy. Coyotes and foxes had threatened to have his chickens for supper too often.
Levi told him to fire two warning shots at the sky if he ever had an emergency. Neighbors would recognize the signal to kumme running to his aid. He’d keep it near. To shoot a man had never entered his mind. Something he hoped never to do. The Amish law to avoid violence at all costs was clear. A law he had practiced all his life.
Later, a knock sounded. He placed the shotgun against the wall and opened the door. “Levi, kumme in.”
“I won’t keep you long, but I need a few minutes of your time. I’ve got some disturbing news.”
Mark frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone came in our haus while we were out yesterday. Sarah had baked oatmeal cookies, and they were gone when we returned. Matches and loose change are missing from the jar we leave in the cupboard.”
Oh no.
He hoped the one stealing wasn’t Abel. It was hard to believe his bruder would hide in his barn and steal from him and his neighbors. He couldn’t imagine Abel resorting to this type of bad behavior, but again, he wasn’t certain what to think at this point. The intruder could be anyone.
Mark gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.” He rubbed the knot in his neck. “A short time ago, loud noises came from my barn. By the time I ran outside, the man had left.” He recounted to Levi what he found. “I’m angry the intruder started a fire to keep warm and heat his beans. I’m bothered he’ll return and do this again. He might burn it to the ground if he’s not careful.”
Levi crossed his arms. “I’m concerned for our community’s safety. Townsfolk in Berlin don’t lock their doors. We haven’t had a reason to. The women in our community are comfortable walking alone to visit each other. Sarah and Grace drive their wagons to work by themselves.”
Mark raked a hand through his hair. “I would assume the thief who stole your things is the same man who hid in my barn. This stranger must be in trouble with the law or up to no good. Otherwise, he’d ask us for help. The women shouldn’t walk or drive alone until we catch this thief. This man could be dangerous. I’ll stay awake as long as I can tonight. Maybe he will show up again and I’ll capture him.”
Levi rose and patted Mark’s shoulder. “Stay alert. Fire shots in the air tonight if you need any help.”
“I’ll be fine. You watch over Sarah.”
“Sarah told me you’re opening a store in town a week from Saturday. Congratulations. We need a store like yours.”
“Danki. You’re welcome to visit here or my store anytime. Take care, and enjoy the rest of your night.”
Levi waved and departed.
Mark went to his workshop and finished cutting and sanding wood for two chairs. The sky darkened, and he lit a lantern to walk back to the haus. It was time for supper. A bacon and tomato sandwich would hit the spot and satisfy his hunger. He gathered what he needed, set the items on the table, and then reached for a plate. He’d use his small wood-burning stove for the bacon.
He tossed in a couple of sticks and corn cobs in the stove, poured a bit of kerosene over the kindling, and lit the fire. Flames flickered and he replaced the plate and waited until the fire burned hot.
He set a cast-iron skillet on top and dropped six slices of bacon in it. Moments later, the pleasant scent of the smoked hog meat he bought yesterday from the General Store sizzled and filled the air. He sliced two pieces of the fresh bakery bread and then cut a slice of tomato.
I’m thirsty.
He poured a glass of water and sipped it then layered his sandwich.
Positioning his chair in front of the window, he had a perfect view of the barn while he enjoyed his meal. Eyes heavy, he put his plate on the floor beside his chair and blinked his eyes to stay awake. Darkness fell, and he sat without light but left the lantern at his feet. Eyes on the structure, he settled back in the chair.
The early morning sun shone through the window on Thursday and heated his face. Mark opened his eyes and glanced at the clock.
Four in the morning.
He’d fallen fast asleep. Bolting to the barn, he scanned the area on the way there. No sign of anyone.
He would have to warn Grace not to travel alone until this thief left town or was caught. His heart quickened. He didn’t want her or anyone else getting hurt.
Chapter Two
Grace woke and dressed earlier than usual. Then she went to the kitchen and poured coffee into a container, darted outside, secured her horse to the wagon, and went to town. She stopped at the livery and handed her horse’s reins to the liveryman. The townsfolk filled the boardwalk this glorious, bright, sunshiny Thursday morning. Dodging in between the men and women entering and exiting shops, she breathed in the apple scent as she passed the bakery. They must be preparing tarts.
Yummy.
The familiar peddler’s loud voice coaxing passersby to buy his hand-carved canes rang in her ears.
She gritted her teeth at the squeaky spring of the wagon’s wheels ahead of her. Hurrying past them, the smooth rhythm of the horse’s hooves clippity clopping next to her was a pleasant change. The aroma of beef wafted out the window as she passed the Berlin Restaurant. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and breathed it in. She’d swallowed a gulp of water and had three bites of a buttered biscuit in a hurry at home. Mark was coming to her shop, and she planned to arrive early.
Butterflies in her stomach danced with excitement. Mark would be in the store most of the day. What would she discover about him? She paused and her breath caught.