The Mercy (7 page)

She shook off the remembrance. No sense clinging to it.

Her thoughts returned to the present as, wonder of wonders, Rebekah moved away from the place settings Rose had her eye on. “Ach . . . sorry, Martha, just a minute.” Rose made her way carefully past the long table to Rebekah Bontrager. “Aren’t ya interested in that dish set?” she asked her.

“
Nee—
no, the color looks too faded.”

Rose glanced at the dinner plate on top. “I think it’s s’posed to be that way.” She hesitated. “If ya don’t mind, then, I’d like to buy them.”

“Sure.” Rebekah nodded. “Look them over carefully first for any cracks, though.”

“
Gut Gedanke—
good thought.”

“Nice seein’ ya, Rose Ann.”

“You too.” Rose headed back to Martha, ready to pay for her new collection of dishes.
An investment in hope . . .

R
ose’s bedroom was situated toward the back of the house, away from the road. It was two rooms away from the largest bedroom in the house—the vacant one where her parents had slept prior to the mysterious market day accident that left Mamm paralyzed.

The pretty oak bookcase Dat had made for Rose stood at one end of the rectangular-shaped room. Rose liked to line up her library books there, sliding them into the middle shelf, spine out, pretending they were her very own collection. Each week, or at least every other week, she returned from the Quarryville library with yet another armload of historical romances—the very best kind of book, she’d decided some years ago.

This being the Lord’s Day, she knew better than to indulge in reading fanciful writings, even though her mother no longer harped about it. Perhaps it was because Rose was of age and her hobbies were her own. Still, she knew Sundays were meant for the Lord. They were not for reading love stories, except those from the Bible.

Lying in bed, nestled amongst pillows and her warmest quilts, Rose wondered in her sleepiness if any future husband would care if she had the lovely bookshelf in their house. And not only that, but filled nicely with books on all five shelves. Would he?

Whoever he might be.
She smiled hazily, her mind moving away from sleep. Had she become so lonely she would simply settle for whoever came along after Silas Good?

I can’t let that happen.
She threw off the covers and inched out of the comfortable bed. Swinging her legs over the side, she was glad for the rag rug that lay beneath her feet. She pushed her bare feet into her slippers, shivering in the dawn’s early light as she ventured onto the cold floor.

Finding her bathrobe, she snuggled into its warmth and opened her top drawer to find her long johns. Rose was so chilled, she put them on under her nightgown, then headed down the stairs to the bathroom just off the kitchen. It hadn’t struck her till just this minute that it was a no-Preaching Sunday. Right quick, she remembered her noontime plans with Mose and Ruthann. She was fairly certain the invitation had much to do with whatever fellow would be sitting across the table from her, but even if not, she could happily entertain herself with her little nephew and nieces. All under the age of five, Jonas, Barbara Ann, and Sally were sweet children.

Rose closed the bathroom door and began to run the bathwater, hoping her father wouldn’t mind when he came to shave his upper lip later and discovered precious little hot water left. That had become a problem with Brandon’s almost daily showering next door. Talk about having to make do with a spoonful of water! She laughed at her own joke, thinking now of Hen and the man she loved, living on the other side of this wall, trying to put things back to the way they had been before Mattie Sue was born.

Lately, Rose had seen glimpses of something between them—a measure of sweetness. With all of her heart, she hoped they would in time rediscover how much they cared for each other, if for no other reason than for Mattie Sue’s sake.
And the Lord’s,
Rose thought, splashing cold water on her face.

While she brushed her teeth at the sink, she wondered if the groundhog had seen his shadow and gone back to his burrow for six more weeks of winter. She smiled at the notion that a marmot could predict the end of the coldest season.

She finished her bath quickly, her excitement for the day taking her full attention now. Mose had also dropped a hint to Dat that Rose wasn’t the only guest coming to dinner today, confirming her suspicions. But just who could it be?

Wouldn’t Cousin Melvin call me silly for wondering?
She knew without a doubt he would. But then, so would her old friend Nick.
Ach, for double sure!

After Rose was dressed and had breakfast under way for her parents, she looked through her basket of finished dolls for market to find one or two for her nieces. She noticed one on which she’d purposely stitched a downturned mouth after hearing from Dat about Nick’s going to college. Even now, she felt distressed when she thought of it, knowing the world had grabbed him and would never let him go.

Of course, she wouldn’t think of taking the sad-faced doll along to give to Barbara Ann or Sally. Instead, she picked out two matching faceless dolls—twins, really. Of course, except for the color of their dresses, all the girl dolls she made looked quite alike
.

After a breakfast of cornmeal mush and tasty sausage, Rose washed and dried the dishes, then went in to read the Bible to Mamm, two chapters from Matthew that focused on some of the parables. Mamm especially liked the one about the kingdom of heaven being likened unto a treasure hidden in a field.

“God’s treasures are our truest gifts,” Mamm said in a near whisper. “Things not of this world.”

Rose knew what her mother meant: gifts such as comfort, peace, joy, love . . . and healing. “Beth Browning told me she’s still prayin’ for you, Mamm.”

Her mother’s eyes welled up with tears. “What a dear young woman.” Mamm wiped her eyes with a hankie.

Rose closed the Bible. “Beth seems wise beyond her years in some ways.”
Like an old soul.

“I’m glad you’re still workin’ over there, dear.”

Rose was, too. “Well, I’d hate to lose touch after everything Beth’s done for us. . . .”

“I need to close my eyes for a while,” her mother said. Her face was pinched and her hands clenched, no doubt from pain.

“I’ll let you be, Mamm.” Rose placed the Good Book next to her mother’s pillow, where she liked it.

“Have a nice time today,” Mamm said softly. “Your father told me ’bout Mose’s plan . . . well, some of it.”

Ah, so both her parents knew.

“Mammi Sylvia will be over to set out some bread and cold cuts. And I made some lime Jell-O, too,” Rose told her mother.

“Your father will take you over to Mose and Ruthann’s,” Mamm said with a fleeting smile.

Playing along, Rose replied, “Awful
gut
of Dat.” She leaned down to kiss Mamm’s cheek and left the room, holding her breath and wondering why.

Hen had been reading a Bible storybook to Mattie Sue when the knock came at the back door. She looked up and was surprised to see their neighbor Aaron.

Is he coming to visit Brandon?

She placed the book on Mattie’s lap and rose to answer the door. “Welcome, Bishop . . . come inside and get warm.”

Aaron nodded his thanks and removed his black hat, hanging it on a nearby hook. He glanced about, then smiled at Mattie Sue, who still sat in the small adjoining room with her puppy dog. “Is your husband resting?” he asked Hen.

“At the moment.”

“Well, I don’t mean to be a bother.” The bishop reached again for his hat and was about to put it back on.

“No . . . I think Brandon would be pleased to know you’re here.” Hen offered him some hot coffee and a sticky bun, which put a smile on Aaron’s wrinkled face as he moved toward the table.

Hen poured coffee for him, then placed the plate of cinnamon rolls on the table. “There you are.” She excused herself to go upstairs and found Brandon sitting on the side of his bed, looking as if he’d had a good nap. Waiting in the doorway until she knew he was fully alert, she saw that he needed a shave under his neck. For the most part he had been doing a pretty good job with a razor and shaving cream, purely by feel. She hadn’t offered to help him, although she’d thought of it several times.

“Hen, I know you’re standing there.”

“Wondered if you felt up to having a visit with Bishop Aaron.”

Brandon raised his head. “Didn’t hear him come in.”

“Jah, he’s sitting at the table having coffee.”

“Tell him I’ll be right down.”

“Sure.” She turned to go.

“Hen . . . thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course.” She turned back toward him.

“Is my comb nearby?” he asked.

She spied it on the dresser and went to retrieve it for him, curious whether there was something more on his mind. She returned to the bed and placed the comb in his hand. “I’ll tell him you’re getting up.”

“Thanks.”

She hurried back downstairs in time to see Mattie Sue put Wiggles in the bishop’s lap. “Brandon will be down in a minute,” she announced as she went to pour coffee for herself and her husband.

“How’s he feelin’?” Aaron asked, petting the cocker spaniel with callused hands.

“His arm and ribs are healing, but he still can’t see.”

“Well, resting’s mighty
gut.
”

“The doctor says so.”

Mattie Sue moved closer to the table. “Daddy’s starting to like the farm,” she said.

“Jah. Just takes some getting used to,” Aaron said.

Mattie Sue looked ever so solemn.

“Now, honey-girl, don’t be frettin’, all right?” Aaron winked at her. “The Lord cares ’bout your daddy. Don’t ya forget, now.”

Mattie Sue’s face broke into a thoughtful smile.

The puppy jumped down from Aaron’s lap and followed Mattie Sue back to the front room, where the two of them cuddled and played.

When Brandon came downstairs, he shook Aaron’s hand and apologized for keeping him waiting. But Aaron wouldn’t hear of it. “I’m the one pokin’ my head in on ya,” he said.

Hen put the sugar bowl on the table right where she always did, so Brandon knew where to reach for it. Then she motioned for Mattie Sue to go upstairs with her, so the men could talk privately on this most beautiful Lord’s Day morning.

O
n the way to Mose and Ruthann’s late that morning, Rose and her father passed Deacon Samuel Esh’s farm, prompting Rose to ask about the vacancy their former bishop’s silencing had left in their church district. Her father explained that another bishop—Bishop Simon Peachey, from this side of Bart—had been appointed by Old Ezekiel, the oldest bishop in the county. “He’ll oversee our district for the next six months.”

Six months . . .

“What’ll happen then?”

“Aaron’s ordination will be lifted.”

“Completely taken away?”

Dat was quiet for a time. “Certain higher-ups evidently had their say-so.” He glanced her way, a solemn look on his face.

“And nothing can keep that from happening?”

“Short of a miracle, no.”

Rose knew little about the inner workings of the ministerial brethren. But she knew how much stock her father had always put in Aaron Petersheim. “It’s not like he’s sinned or is being punished. Or has he been set up as an example?”

“I can’t be certain.”

Rose didn’t want to press further, not as hurtful as all this had been. Besides, Dat was under enough stress with Mamm facing surgery. He wore the concern on his face, even though he continually trusted the Lord for all things pertaining to his family. Mamm was his beloved wife and longtime sweetheart. If things went awry and she was left worse off, Dat would surely blame himself.

“
En Sinn un en Schand,
” he said, referring to Aaron’s possible ousting.

“We can still pray,” she said. “For God to rule . . . and overrule before August first.”

“Ach, ya must never put time limits on the Lord,” Dat admonished her. “Leave things to His will.”

When they arrived at Mose’s, another family buggy was parked at the side of the house. Rose wasn’t sure who else had come, but Dat seemed to recognize the horse as one of the Millers’.

“Which Miller?” There were so many in the area.

“Arie’s father.”

Hen’s best friend’s father . . .

Rose thanked him for the ride, saying she’d get a ride home with Mose later. Dat grinned at that. “I’ll see ya later, then.”

“All right,” she said, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Was she truly ready to meet someone new?

Making haste to the back door, she found Leah Miller in the kitchen playing with Ruthann’s youngest, eighteen-month-old Sally, while Leah’s mother, Ruth, talked with Ruthann near the cookstove before waving her good-bye. “Hullo,” they all greeted Rose. Looking happier than she had since her beau Christian’s death, Leah carried curly-haired Sally over to Rose.

“How’ve ya been?” Leah asked Rose, bending to rub noses with little Sally.

“Just fine . . . and you?”

“Oh, busy helpin’ Mamma mend and sew.”

“Awful nice of Mose and Ruthann to invite us, ain’t?” Rose said, smiling as Sally played with Leah’s Kapp strings.

“Heard there might be another guest comin’,” Leah whispered.

Rose didn’t make a peep. Just as she’d thought, this was not going to be a normal family gathering.

“Seems your brother and wife are bent on matchmaking.”

Do they feel sorry for us?
It was the first they’d ever attempted such a thing. Regardless, it seemed unfitting for Mose to invite two single girls and only
one
fellow!

Hen was aware of the ebb and flow of conversation downstairs, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. Brandon and Aaron seemed to be getting along agreeably, even laughing occasionally—something quite remarkable.

“Mommy, why’s Daddy goin’ to New York?” Mattie Sue asked out of the blue. They had been sitting on Hen’s bed while Mattie Sue played with Wiggles and Hen read her Bible.

“Your grandpa and grandma Orringer live in New York.”

Mattie Sue frowned. “I wish he’d stay here . . . with us.” She cuddled Wiggles next to her face.

“I know, honey.” Hen tickled Mattie Sue under her chin. Wiggles began licking her finger and Mattie let out a stream of laughter.

“Wiggles wants to stay with us, Mommy.”

“The puppy told you?” Hen kissed Mattie Sue’s cheek, laughing softly.

Mattie Sue looked up at her with trusting eyes. Then she surprised her and said, “Beth prays about everything, doesn’t she?”

“I think you might be right.”

“Well, then, I want to pray like that, too.” Mattie Sue got down on her knees beside the bed, bowed her head, and folded her hands. Wiggles licked her cheek and Mattie Sue giggled the start of her prayer.

“Now, honey. Why don’t you wait till you’re more serious?”

“Dawdi Sol says God can see inside my heart, so He knows what I’m going to say, jah?”

As a child, Hen had been taught the importance of being reverent while praying. “Still, it’s best to pray when Wiggles isn’t making you laugh,” she urged.

Mattie Sue rose, gathered Wiggles into her arms, and carried him off to her own bedroom. She closed the door and returned to Hen’s room empty-handed. Smiling at her, Hen opened her arms and held her near. “We must always trust the Lord. He knows our hearts . . . and does all things well, according to His plan and purpose.”

Mattie Sue’s face shone with joy. “Then will Daddy see again soon?”

“The doctor believes so.”

Mattie Sue stayed nestled in her arms.
Dear little girl, so in need of reassurance.
“God loves Daddy,” whispered Hen. “Never forget, honey.”

Brandon raised a brow when Hen returned to the kitchen with Mattie Sue in tow. The bishop had left for home, and Hen was curious about how the visit had gone. But her very presence in the kitchen seemed to annoy her husband.

She went to the table and stood near his chair. “Would you like some more coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“All right.”

As he continued to sit there, she made some fruit salad for the noon meal. Glancing over her shoulder, she asked if he was all right. “Can I get you anything to snack on, maybe?”

“Not now, thanks.”

He was clearly deep in thought; if only she knew how to ease his anxiety. What had he and the bishop discussed?

Mattie Sue went over and leaned her head against Brandon’s good arm. “I’ll read to you, Daddy,” she said. “Would that make you feel better?”

“No, honey. Not now.”

“Later on?” she asked.

He kissed her forehead. “Maybe.”

Hen watched the scene play out before her. Mattie Sue clearly felt rejected, yet she tried to be a big girl and not complain or whine. Their daughter had come a long way since Hen had worked with her on obedience and respect for elders . . . parents, especially.

Brandon leaned his good elbow on the table, wiping his eyes as Mattie Sue left the room.

Hen finished making the fruit salad and pressed down on the lid till she heard it snap. Then, nearly tiptoeing, she went to stand beside her husband. She placed her hand on his shoulder without speaking.

She felt ever so awkward. “I’m here if you want to talk.” She didn’t wait for his reply but turned to go with Mattie Sue into the sitting room to read to her. All the while, Hen kept glancing over at her poor husband, who looked more distraught than ever.

Rose enjoyed giving Barbara Ann and Sally their little dolls, tickled to see their eyes sparkle with joy. “Denki,” Barbara Ann said in her tiny voice, and Sally tried to do the same. Rose received a wet kiss on the cheek from both girls.

Afterward, Rose entertained four-year-old Jonas in the sitting room near her sister-in-law’s kitchen. He was inquisitive, much like Mattie Sue, who was the same age. She and Jonas were enjoying a game of checkers when Rose heard the back door open and Mose’s voice. She kept playing, even though she wanted to gawk to see who’d come.
Be calm, Rosie . . . this fellow, whoever he is, will probably like Leah Miller anyway.
At any rate, she planned to let Leah have all of the attention. After all, the poor girl had suffered terribly, losing her beau to death.

In a few minutes, Ruthann came into the room. “
Kumme,
the meal’s all ready.”

Just that quick, Jonas abandoned the game and hurried to the kitchen. Feeling quite nervous, Rose followed him to the sink, where she helped him reach the towel to dry his hands.

When she turned toward the table, Rose realized there wasn’t one but
two
young men seated across from Leah. Tall, dark-headed, and blue-eyed, they looked enough alike to be twins. Upon second glance, Rose was sure they were exactly that!

By the time she was seated on the wooden bench next to Leah, it was time for the table blessing. Mose bowed his head and they joined in the silent prayer till Mose made a little cough to signal the end of the prayer.

Without delay, Mose introduced Rose and Leah to the fellows. Then he said, “We’re glad to have Ruthann’s twin cousins visiting from Bart—Isaac and Jacob Ebersol.”

So Rose’s hunch was correct, although it was apparent by the shape of their faces they were not identical. And Isaac’s eyes were a lighter blue than Jacob’s.

“Nice to meet yous, Leah and Rose Ann,” Isaac said first, quickly adding, “My friends call me Ike.”

“Our mother still calls him Isaac, though,” Jacob said, his winning smile directed at Leah. “And I’m mostly Jake.”

Rose wasn’t sure what to think, but Leah glanced at her, as if quite pleased.

The children were quiet, and it amused Rose that even young Jonas was smart enough to sense something was up. He kept looking first at Isaac, then at Rose . . . then at Jake, and over at Leah. She wondered what sort of prompting Mose had given Jonas.

As they passed the serving dishes, Mose took the lead, asking questions to encourage conversation between the four young people. It felt awkward but not as bad as Rose had feared, and the young men were polite and respectful. During the course of the meal, Rose learned that the brothers were twenty-one, regular attenders of their local Amish church, and gainfully employed. Isaac worked for an English farmer down the road from his father’s house, and Jacob was in partnership with his father, raising tobacco.

Discreetly, Rose observed Isaac, then Jake, wondering which fellow, if either, she found appealing. It was too soon to tell, of course, but she couldn’t help wondering if Leah was doing the same. Which brother did she like? After all, what if they happened to like the same one? And what if Isaac liked Leah, but Leah preferred Jacob?

Ach, what a pickle indeed, if it comes to that!

It wasn’t until after the meal, when the twins asked Leah and Rose to go riding with them, that Isaac mentioned having twelve siblings, including another younger set of twin sisters.
Thirteen children!
She’d known other large families, but none quite so large as the Ebersol twins’ extended family—their church district was made up of nearly all first cousins.

“Every courting-age girl in our church is somehow related to us,” Isaac said, holding the reins.

Rose understood now why Mose and Ruthann had invited her and Leah to meet these fine young men.

“Do ya like ice cream, Rose?” asked Isaac, his eyes twinkling. He seemed to have the livelier personality of the two.

“Oh jah, we make it all the time.” She was conscious of Leah and Jacob in the second seat behind them as they rode.