The Revealing (22 page)

The next morning, Rose sat on the porch swing, holding the baby in the morning sunlight. The nurse had suggested that the baby get some sun each day to help combat jaundice.

“Hey there.”

She looked up to see Galen, a gentle smile lighting his eyes. “Well, hello.” She lifted her arms slightly. “Meet our newest houseguest.”

He came up on the porch and moved some papers to sit beside her on the swing. He held out a finger for the baby to grab on to. “A special baby.”

“Yes. A special child.” She smiled at the way Galen was gazing at the baby. He was such a masculine man, all angles, no nonsense—but his face was now soft and tender. To see the baby’s little hand grasping his strong finger touched her heart.

He glanced at the papers on the porch swing. “Hospital bills?”

The baby closed her eyes, drifted to sleep. “Yes,” Rose said. “Paisley had them all billed to me.”

“Well, don’t worry about them now,” Galen said. “Have a little faith.”

Rose wanted to have that kind of faith. She truly believed anything was possible with God. “I think it will take a miracle to get those bills paid.”

“We could have a benefit to raise money.”

“I can’t ask Bishop Elmo for yet another benefit for the Schrock family.”

“Sure you can. That’s what we do for each other.” He nudged her. “You would do it for anyone else.”

True, but somehow, it was always easier to give than receive. “Naomi’s been a wonderful help. Yesterday she was here all evening, then again this morning.”

“She likes babies.”

The baby startled awake and Rose transferred her to her shoulder. “Naomi is so remarkably mature.” She was like her brother in that way. Mature beyond her years. She glanced at Galen. “I can’t imagine what must be running through her mind about Tobe.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wished them back.

He flashed her a look of impatience. “You’re looking for something that isn’t there. Naomi has never even mentioned Tobe. Probably doesn’t even think twice about him.”

Annoyed, she rose to her feet. “Galen, you’re the only one who doesn’t think twice about Tobe.” She passed the baby to him. “I need to go get a bottle ready. Hold her for a moment, will you?”

“Me?” His voice sounded almost . . . frightened.

She smiled and her irritation with him dissolved. Imagine that. Galen King was intimidated by a little six-pound baby.

Bethany came outside to feed the hens and was startled to see Galen King on the porch swing, holding the baby as if she were made of spun sugar. He looked up when he heard the door open, a shy, embarrassed smile cracking his face, as if he’d been caught.

“I have some news about Lodestar,” he said, quickly passing the baby to her.

Bethany couldn’t read anything in his demeanor. Galen was such a steady man that good and bad news would probably sound the same, something to be dealt with either way. She sat down on the porch swing to hear what he had to say, awkwardly shifting the baby into her other arm as the baby
started making mewling sounds. She wasn’t accustomed to newborn babies and had only met this one an hour ago. Where was Rose with that bottle, anyway?

“A farrier knew of a horse that was being used as a mini-backyard breeding factory. The farrier was called out to keep his hooves trimmed on a regular basis. He didn’t know the owner and was concerned he might not get paid if no one was around during the shoeing, so he asked to be paid in advance.”

“What makes you think it could be Lodestar?”

“He described the horse’s unusual looks—that long flaxen mane, the golden coat—from the sound of it, it resembled Lodestar. But I can’t be sure.”

Bethany sat up in the porch swing. “Let’s go find out.”

“Now, hold on. There’s more to the story. The horse has been kept in a pasture with an electric fence surrounding it. The farrier said the first time he trimmed his hooves, everything was in order. But the second time, the horse looked thinner, dirty and unkempt, like no one was taking care of him. And this last time, the farrier found him in really bad shape. Ribs showing, living in filth, bad water in the rain bucket. Hoof rot too, so he wasn’t able to shoe him.”

Her heart was beating fast. “Galen, we need to rescue him!”

“It’s more complicated than just going and getting him. I’m not even positive it is Lodestar. Besides, the farrier is involved. He said he called Equine Rescue and they’re going out this week to check on the horse.”

“Could we ask the farrier to take us out to see the horse? Just to see if this horse might be Lodestar?”

“I suppose we could.” He took off his hat. “On one condition. I didn’t tell the farrier the whole story—about Jimmy Fisher and Jake Hertzler. I just want to take things one step
at a time. If it’s not Lodestar, we just leave the situation alone and let Equine Rescue handle it. We don’t get involved.” He looked right at her. “Is that understood?”

“But what if it is Lodestar?” The baby’s face scrunched up in distress and Bethany glanced at the kitchen window. Where was Rose?

Galen gave her a warning look. “We’ll still take things one step at a time.”

“Okay.”

He put his hat back on. “You realize we might be walking into trouble, don’t you?”

Bethany grinned, even as the baby started to howl. “I do. But to quote Jimmy Fisher, some things are worth a little trouble.”

Mim discovered something new about herself: she did not like babies. In fact, she thought babies were revolting and couldn’t understand why her mother and Naomi practically stumbled over each other as they went to pick Sarah up and soothe her when she started to howl. Babies might not know how to do much, but they sure knew how to scream. And when the baby wasn’t screaming, her mouth was always open and drooling. And those vile diapers! How could anyone so very small need to be changed ten times a day?

Nothing felt normal since Paisley had come to Eagle Hill.

Bethany was preoccupied, her mind seemed a million miles away. Luke was continually in a bad mood and would argue with Sammy at the drop of a hat. Her mother would get upset and send them to their room; she was tired every evening and had no time to talk about school or anything.

Mammi Vera, usually bleak and mournful, was actually acting a tiny bit happy at having a squawling baby in the house. That, too, wasn’t normal. She was
never
happy. But Mim noticed that Mammi Vera didn’t offer to change Sarah’s vile-smelling diapers or wipe the drool off her little pink cheeks.

Mim choked down another bite of oatmeal and wondered if Mammi Vera would notice if she added more sugar. It could be she had already forgotten the first four spoonfuls, but you never knew with Mammi Vera. Some things she forgot right off and others she remembered. Like what someone died from. Old people were always trying to figure out what people died from, or how many sisters and brothers they had and what they died from. That made up half the conversations Mim had to sit through when she helped Bethany at the Sisters’ House.

She put down her spoon and stared at her oatmeal, thinking of how huffy her mother became a few minutes ago when Mim shared the suspicions and whispers that were buzzing around the school playground about the fatherless baby at Eagle Hill.

“Suspicions and whispers? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What kinds of friends do you think we have?” Her mother’s voice shook with anger and Mim was instantly sorry she had brought the subject up. “Three neighbors dropped everything and brought over baby clothes and a crib. Mattie Riehl made a diaper bag and filled it with pacifiers, tiny T-shirts and socks, diapers, bottles, and formula. Galen chopped all that wood for us. Naomi has rocked this baby for hours. Fern Lapp brought supper, and David Stoltzfus offered to do chores as if we’d been friends all our lives.”

“I thought you might want to know what other people are thinking,” Mim admitted in a quiet voice.

Her mother drew in a deep breath. “Such neighbors wouldn’t tell tales and gossip. Love thinks well of others, and the people here have poured out that very kind of godly love and friendship. You worry what they’d think? Down deep in my heart, I know they consider us blessed.”

Mim couldn’t look her mother in the eye as she stammered, “Those are only some of the neighbors.”

“For once your mother is right,” Mammi Vera said as she came into the kitchen. “We are blessed by this child.”

Mim was shocked. The world was turning upside down. She was astounded that her grandmother wasn’t more upset. One of her grandmother’s favorite sayings was: Aaegebrenndi Supp riecht welt.
You can smell scorched soup from afar
. Scandals spread like wildfire, she would warn, wagging a finger at them. “I guess I mean, you’re supposed to get married and then have babies, right?”

“That’s the best way.” Mammi Vera peered at the baby, sleeping in a borrowed Moses basket, tucked in a corner by the window where the morning sun streamed through and kept her warm. She tucked a blanket around Sarah’s little pink toes. “But things don’t always happen in the best way, and once some things have happened, we can’t go back and change them to the best way.” She looked at Mim. “But it’s my belief that every child the Lord sends is a gift, and even when things aren’t as they should be, God can make a way out of no way.”

“Is that in the Bible?”

“Many times in many stories. Remember how the angel Gabriel told Mary, ‘With God nothing shall be impossible’?”
Mammi Vera straightened and peered out the window. “Soon, Tobe will be home. You’ll see. All will turn out well when Tobe finally comes home.”

The farrier drove Galen and Bethany out to look at the horse later in the week. In the corner of a dirty pasture was a muddy, broken-down horse. His head hung low, eyes lifeless, and his ribs stuck out. The saddest discovery of all was that his back feet were buckled together in leather hobbles. “He’s in even worse condition than he was a few days ago.”

The Equine Rescue truck pulled up at the same time. Two men climbed out and walked to the pasture with grim looks on their face as they saw the condition the horse was in. “There’s an electric fence,” the farrier pointed out. “I’ll turn it off and then we can go in.”

Bethany watched him click off a small handle. He tapped the fence with his gloved finger and declared it safe. “The juice is cut off. Go on in.”

As they walked in the pasture, through the mud and muck toward the horse, Bethany wasn’t at all sure it was Jimmy’s Lodestar. This horse was covered in ticks, its eyes had a beaten down look, its ears were flattened back, its mane wasn’t flaxen but brown, dirty, and matted. She looked at Galen to see what he was thinking. He was walking around the horse, running a hand down its girth, over the joints in its legs. There was no way this horse could be Lodestar. No chance at all.

Galen looked up at her. “It’s him.”

“What?! Are you sure? He doesn’t look the same.”

“It’s him.” He sounded certain.

The farrier and the men from the Equine Rescue were
discussing how to proceed as Bethany tipped over the dirt-filled pan of rainwater and went to go look for fresh water for the horse. Galen had brought a hay bale in the back of the farrier’s truck and took it out to Lodestar, who lunged for it. Galen pulled a hoof pick out of one pocket, a bottle of apple cider vinegar and a brush out of the other. With a practiced hand, he unbuckled the hobbles. While Lodestar ate, Galen lifted each foot and cleaned the hoof, then painted vinegar over the frog. An old remedy for hoof rot.