Planted with Hope (44 page)

She rushed over to the box and sank down onto the grass, not caring if dirt or grass stained her skirt. She opened it up. The first thing she spotted was a white envelope. Her name was written on the front. It was from Jonas. Hope lifted the envelope and placed it to her chest. He'd been part of this too.

Under the envelope there was a collections of things, different from what Hope had seen in there before. There was an empty seed packet from the first seeds they'd planted together. There was
the recipe for Peanut Better Cookies. There was a drawing of the garden that Emma had made in art class. Hope had no idea that the young girl had been saving those things. She'd been collecting memories. Emma had been trying to fill the hole her mother had left behind, and for a time Hope had filled that place.

“Why didn't I go with them?”

You needed to hear today's story. You needed to be ready to plant your love deep.

The words came like a whisper to her soul, and she remembered a saying that she'd read on a wooden sign in Yoder's store.

“From deepest roots tallest branches grow,” she whispered. If she was going to Kentucky she needed to commit with her full heart. She needed to plant all her seeds of love in those two people and never look back. No doubt her staying back had already caused them to question, and if she were to go again, Hope knew she could never leave.

As she returned the seed packet to the box, three small seeds rolled out. It was then Hope had her answer. She wasn't going to hide those seeds and tuck them away. She knew the exact spot where they needed to go. She opened Jonas's letter, hoping that it confirmed her decision.

Dear Hope,

You asked that we write letters. You want to make sure that we know each other well enough before marriage. I understand. It has only been four months since I saw you sitting at the boat ramp of Phillippi Creek cradling Emma in your arms. I never expected to find love again—not like this. And I never expected it to happen so soon. This is my first letter, and I'll write a hundred more if that's what's needed to have you in my life.

As you're reading this I'm somewhere on the highway between here
and Kentucky. On the drive down Emma and I played the alphabet game more times than I could count, so if I were to guess we might be doing the same at this moment. Of course, even if I'm pointing out letters on the Interstate and making polite conversation with our driver, my thoughts are probably on you. Are you in the garden or in the kitchen cooking up recipes from 1942?

I like to picture you both places, but lately I've been trying to picture you at my farm in Kentucky. I think you'll like it there. It's a rural area with rolling hills, tall trees, and farms that dot the countryside, and I know I've told you this before, but I have a large garden plot right by the road. One of the first things I'm going to do when I return home is prepare it for planting, and I'll be thinking of you as I do.

The minutes are ticking by, and I know I should be getting some sleep. I keep stopping to read what I've written, and I realize that it's not very good. As a teacher I'd give myself a C, and I'd write at the top “Get to the point.” So if there is a point to this letter (and there is) I want to make sure I tell you this: Hope, I know in my heart that I love you, I want to marry you someday, and I want you to be my daughter's mother.

Those are three things, and for a while I thought they conflicted with one another. Even my sister talked to me and made sure I didn't want to marry you just because of Emma. Everyone has seen how well you two get along. She wanted me to be certain that I loved you just as much for myself too. And I do.

The other day I was praying about this. I asked God, “Did You give me Hope for myself? Or did You give me Hope for Emma?” I shouldn't have been surprised by His answer, but I was. I didn't hear a voice, but I felt it in my spirit, and it was just one word: “Yes.”

I don't have to be guilty for loving you and wanting you to be my future wife, and I don't have to wonder if my desire is simply for a mother to Emma. God has answered both prayers in one person. He's
answered both prayers in you. That might be a lot to share in my first letter, but I don't want you to worry about where you stand. I will come back to Pinecraft as often as I can to see you. And I'd love you to come to Kentucky any time. You'll always have a place.

And know that when you finally get to Kentucky I'll turn the garden plot all over to you, as well as my heart. It's yours, Hope.

With you in my thoughts,

Jonas

Hope pressed the letter to her chest, and it was only as she felt a drop of wetness on her arm that she realized she was crying. How could one letter start so simply and end up so profound? How could all the worries, concerns, and questions she'd bottled up inside be answered in a few paragraphs? Jonas loved her for his daughter. Jonas loved her for himself. She'd hoped for that, but feared it wasn't the case. Now she had hope in the future too. She didn't have to worry or question. If she were to grade this letter she would have given him an A.

Hope also knew what she had to do.

Hope pulled her suitcase out from under her bed. She'd bought it when her family moved to Pinecraft, but she hadn't used it since. She'd planned on using it when she traveled up to Ohio to work as a
maud
, but that wouldn't be the case. Instead, she was packing for the future she hoped awaited—one she hoped she hadn't hindered due to her worries and fears.

She packed both her work and church dresses and her church shoes, and she placed her covering in the hat box. It was an old Schwann's ice cream bucket that Faith had covered with contact
paper and decorated for her birthday. Looking at her bookshelf, Hope picked up the notebook she'd started in January. There were only a few lines written on the first page.

Find a job up north and a garden to tend.

Write to cousins and friends and inquire about work as a
maud
and gardener.

Hope pulled a pen from her desk drawer and sat. She skipped a few lines and then started again. Today she was starting a new list, and it had nothing to do with finding a job up north. Instead, she had a few ideas of what else she could find, and she wrote them down.

Find hope instead of fear.

Find love instead of loneliness.

Find community instead of solitude.

Find a man I want to spend my life with. (He's in Kentucky.)

Find a young girl to call daughter. (She's there too.)

Find a garden to tend in a home where I wish to spend the rest of my life. (It's at his place.)

Write my cousin and tell her I'm not coming. Also remind her not to give up on the dreams and gifts that God placed deep inside her heart.

Find ways to thank God every day for not giving us what we want, but rather giving us what we need.

Hope put the pen back in the drawer, and she tucked her notebook and her Bible in with her clothes. She was excited to share her story with Emma one day. Share about how she'd planned and prayed only to discover that her plans were pushed aside for something greater.

God had given her more than she ever hoped and dreamed in those two, and she wanted them to know that. She just hoped they'd forgive her and allow her into their hearts once again.
They'd been hurt so much already, and it caused her heart to ache that she'd hurt them again. But still she continued packing because she had hope. And hope was something that she was clinging to.

Chapter Thirty-Six

A friend is one who knows all about you and still loves you.

A
MISH
P
ROVERB

S
pring came to Kentucky in quiet ways. It seemed strange to Jonas that they'd been basking in the sun for months in Florida, but here on his farm the last patches of snow had only recently surrendered to the warm rays. Emma had been quiet this morning, and he was thankful for the new litter of pups to distract her. Even now she romped with the three of them in the treed area just behind the house, last year's leaves clinging to her skirt.

Jonas stepped outside, standing on the top step of the back porch. One of the pups dug his teeth into the hem of Emma's dress and clung on. She struggled forward, her laughter filling the area. Hearing it caused Jonas to smile, but it did nothing to push away the ache in his heart. He was home. It was time for spring planting—his favorite time of the year—but he'd never felt so lonely.

After Sarah had died in January he'd spent a long winter mourning her, and by spring he'd been ready for sunshine, fresh air, seeds of promise, and tiny sprouts of life. But this time—losing
Hope—was different. He didn't want to plant alone, especially not after doing so with her by his side.

He closed his eyes, remembering her anxiety about the children digging in her soil, but also her joy over each day's growth. She had been the sunshine in Pinecraft—that was evident now. And even though the sun had come to Kentucky it seemed like nothing more than gloom without her here.

Footsteps sounded, and Jonas's eyes fluttered open. He nearly jumped to see his brother-in-law Matthew, and not Emma, standing there.

“It's barely eight. Napping already?”

“Not napping. Just thinking.”

Matthew nodded. “Not thinking of planting, I guess?”

“
Ne.
”

“Or the garden.”

“Not really.”

“From the look on your face I'd say you were thinking about a woman.”

Jonas swallowed hard. He wasn't ready to talk about Hope—about his missing her—and he scurried for an excuse. “That might be because it would have been Sarah's birthday in a few weeks. Maybe—”

Matthew held up a hand, interrupting Jonas's words. “Or maybe it has something to do with that pretty woman out front, digging through your garden.”

“My garden?” Jonas jumped to his feet. “There's a woman in my garden?”

His heart pounded, but he told himself not to get his hopes up. He had no reason to believe Hope would be here. He'd last seen her standing in front of Me, Myself, and Pie three days ago when they'd pulled out. But from the twinkle in Matthew's eyes he still had to hope.

“It's probably just a neighbor woman who doesn't know we're home and is trying to help us out,” Jonas said.

Matthew jutted out his chin. “It's no neighbor lady—at least none I've met. She's too pretty for me to miss otherwise, with hair that's both red and gold—like nothing I've ever seen.”

“She calls it strawberry blonde… ” Jonas quickened his steps toward the side of the house and then paused. As much as he wanted to run to Hope, to ask her what she was doing here, he'd never be forgiven if he did it alone.

Jonas hurried back to where Emma had been playing with the puppies. He didn't see her, but he heard her voice coming from the barn.

He bolted in the door and paused, letting his eyes adjust to the light. Emma was sitting down next to the mother dog and the pups, watching them eat.