The River (23 page)

Daed glanced at Tilly as he continued. “ ‘Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.’ ”

Tilly looked at Ruthie, worrying how Daed would take the news that there was no hope of his daughter’s return to the People. Perhaps it was a good thing they were leaving for home tomorrow.

R
uth was aware of the barrenness of her former room that evening. Only the bed remained, and Anna’s old room looked equally empty. It dawned on her that she and Tilly would be sleeping on this side of the house for the last time tonight. Saturday morning, Lord willing, Sam and Josie were planning to move in, and they and their children would occupy the house for their first night there as a family.

It felt unsettling to reflect on life’s cycles—the comings and goings of people.
Including Will Kauffman.
“Good thing I found out about him before I made plans to move back here,” she murmured, closing her suitcase. “Thank goodness.”

Tiptoeing across to see if Tilly was still up, and pleased that she was, Ruth tapped on the door. “Did Melvin talk to you about going to the park tomorrow—to the Conestoga River?”

The lantern was lit on the small table next to the bed, and its light cast shadows on the far wall. Sitting there all cozy in bed, Tilly looked up from her book and shook her head. “Haven’t heard from him, no. What time did Melvin say he wanted to go?”

“Well, he doesn’t want to detain us, so right after breakfast makes sense.”

Tilly nodded. “That should work.” She indicated she wanted to try to be home in Rockport by midafternoon if possible. “I’m homesick . . . really miss Kris and the twins.”

“Seems like we’ve been gone for weeks.” Ruth took a seat on the bed when Tilly motioned for her to join her. Ruth got situated, facing her sister with her legs stretched out toward the headboard. “Does it to you?”

“Nearly a lifetime in some ways.” Tilly encouraged her with a smile.

She’d noticed that Tilly and Daed had seemed uncommonly at ease with each other this evening, as if the old tension had drained away.

Not wanting to pry, she simply nodded. “And just so ya don’t think I’m clamming up on you, I’m ready to tell you why Will’s not for me.”

“Only if you want to.”

“Mamm always said if a fella is too interested in many girls before marriage, the chances of faithfulness afterward aren’t so good.”

Tilly’s eyes were softer . . . gentler. “She’s as wise as anyone we know,
jah
?”

Ruth agreed. “Come to think of it, seems like Mammi Lantz told me the same thing back when I first started going to Singings and other youth activities.”

“If we’re wise, we can learn from the people who love us,” Tilly said. “Provided we pay attention.”

Ruth contemplated that, glad to be here with Tilly, finally opening her heart. “But what if I never have youngsters so that I can pass on what I’ve learned?”

“Oh, sister . . . you will.” Tilly reached to take her hand, smiling sweetly. “The Lord has someone special picked out for you. And you can rest in that.”

“Well, it’s not Will Kauffman.” Even though it felt a bit like something in her had died—again—Ruth knew that for sure. “And I’m so glad I didn’t tell Mamm and Daed anything definite about returning. What a mistake that would’ve been!”

“You spared them an emotional roller coaster, for sure.”

“Still, we’ve had such a good time here with our family; I don’t want to spoil a second more of it.” Ruthie thought again of her father’s shaky condition. “There’s something else I’ve wanted to share with you,” she continued. “I’ve met someone at church back in Rockport . . . someone you and Kris know well.” For the first time, she told Tilly about going out with Jim Montgomery.

“Oh, Ruthie, he seems just wonderful! Jim’s always one of the first ones to sign up to help, and he attends all the Saturday men’s breakfasts with Kris.”

Ruth couldn’t contain her smile. “Has Kris considered him for me, maybe?”

Tilly’s expression was suspicious. “Well, I’m not really sure about that, but I do know he speaks highly of Jim.”

This was news to Ruth. “Maybe now that I know my feelings for Will are truly a thing of the past, I can give Jim’s and my relationship a chance.” She rose and blew a kiss to her sister. “Tomorrow will come quick, you know.”

“Sleep tight.”

Ruth smiled and paused in the doorway, lingering there. “I’m going to miss this big old house.”

Tilly looked over at her and nodded slowly. “You know something? I am, too.”

Ruth wiggled her fingers in farewell and left the room.

———

Tilly continued reading until she started to nod off. Somewhere in her haze, she heard footsteps in the hallway and wondered if Ruth was still restless and moving about.

When Tilly looked up from her warm spot, Mamm appeared in the doorway, wearing her heavy white bathrobe. She smiled timidly and came all the way in, closing the door behind her. “Mamm? Are you all right?”

“It’s awful late, I know. But I just had to walk over and talk to you before tomorrow comes.” Mamm sat on the edge of the bed, near where Ruthie had perched earlier. Her waist-length hair hung straight down her back, the beautiful thick locks glossy in the lantern light.

“I hope Daed’s okay,” Tilly said, her first concern for him.

Mamm drew a breath, then placed a hand on her bosom and pursed her lips. “My dear.” She stopped as soon as she’d begun, seemingly unable to go on.

Does she know that it
’s all out in the open between Daed and me
?

Tilly waited, then wondered if she ought to help this along. “Did Daed share something personal with you, perhaps?”

Mamm nodded and fixed her eyes on Tilly. “We talked for a long time before retiring for the night. And now, well, I can’t sleep a wink. Ain’t the best thing at this hour, hashin’ out such a weighty topic, I’ll say. Not sure we would’ve stayed up that late if things weren’t so private for us next door, just the two of us.”

Tilly felt she might split in half if she didn’t speak. “Was I out of order, saying what I did? If so, I’m sorry.”

A cloud fell over her mother’s face. “Honestly, I’m relieved yous talked things through . . . but it ain’t for just anyone to know, mind you.” Mamm patted Tilly’s hand. “And hearing Daed’s made his peace with ya, well, that’s worth everything.”

Tilly reached for her. “Oh, Mamm, since you’ve told me, I’ve put myself in that woodlot, in my mind.”

“But you were the result, Tilly.
You
, my precious girl.”

It was hard for her to think that her mother had suffered so for Tilly’s own life. “I love you, Mamm. I hope you know how very much.”

“The Lord gave me beauty for ashes . . . and you must never doubt that, my dear.”

And joy for mourning,
thought Tilly.

She clung to her mother as the darkness of the past was swallowed up by the truth’s radiant light. Oh, she wanted to purpose in her heart that no more harm befall this dearest of mothers.
Angelic,
Daed had described her.

Moments later, when Mamm was ready to head back to the
Dawdi Haus
, Tilly slipped on her own robe and went with her, the flashlight shining brightly. “Sweet dreams,” Tilly said.

“You too, dear.”

Tomorrow will
soon be here.
She thought of Ruthie’s remark and hurried back around to the main house, recalling Anna’s joy in scampering about that very area, calling for Tilly.
“Come an’ play with me.”

“My little shadow follows me, even now,” she whispered, heading inside. “In my heart.”

After extinguishing the lantern, Tilly fell right to sleep, dreaming that Anna was still alive. And it was her very best dream in many years.

A
s the crow of Daed’s rooster pierced the golden dawn, Tilly awakened feeling more like herself. She welcomed the fact that her mother had shared so freely again last night, especially on the heels of Tilly’s conversation with Daed. It made coming home all the more precious.

Buoyed by the memory of her father’s gentle words yesterday, she slipped out of bed and went to push up the shades. Standing at the window, she tried to memorize what she saw up and down Eden Road. Field work was in full swing, and she relished the view from north to east and back again. Oh, the many times she’d dug her fingers into the rich black soil, helping Mamm plant her colorful annuals—finding plump earthworms just below the surface.

She raised her face to the sky, nearly indescribable with a luminous sunrise. Elongated wisps of rose-pink clouds provided the perfect mirror to reflect the golden shades.

Tilly was ever so thankful for this new day—a day when she looked forward to seeing her darling Kris and their sweet girls again. She could just imagine being wrapped in her husband’s strong arms.
Tonight!

Josie arrived right on time, after Tilly and Ruth came back to the main house from having breakfast with Daed and Mamm in their cozy new kitchen.

She joked that this was her “biggest and best fall cleaning ever” and seemed excited to get settled into the house. “My sisters and a few cousins are comin’ to help finish up the scrubbing,” she said, her pretty face aglow.

“You’re going to love living here and raising your family,” Tilly told her while they stood in Mamm’s former kitchen, surrounded by sunbeams.

Josie glanced about the large, empty room. “I can’t tell ya how happy Sam is.”

“And you’ll be close to Daed and Mamm, too.”

“It’s an honor to keep an eye out for them.” Josie smiled. “I really mean that.”

Thanking her, Tilly reached to clasp her hand. “I hope you’ve forgiven me for going silent all those years.”

“Oh
jah
 . . . don’t worry yourself. Really.”

Don’t worry yourself. . . .

Tilly smiled; her dearest friend sounded like her.

Forgiveness is a matter
of the heart,
she thought and thanked the dear Lord above.

Sammy and Johanna were sitting quietly on the floor in the opposite corner, building a block tower together, chattering in
Deitsch.
Johanna kept her little hands out, waiting to knock down the blocks without warning. “Your children resemble each of you,” Tilly commented. “They really do.”

“We’re thankful for such healthy little ones.”

Their talk eventually turned to a few larger pieces of furniture
Mamm had pegged earlier for auction. Josie mentioned that Daed said she and Sam might have first dibs on those. “Ain’t that nice?”

“So good to hear. That way, the house can continue to remind all of us how it looked when my parents lived here.”

Josie’s face burst into a smile, and she reached to hug Tilly, clasping her arms. “Does that mean you’ll come back and see us? Will ya stay with us, too, just maybe, with your husband and children?”

“Would you mind?”

“Are ya kidding?” Her sister-in-law gave a merry laugh. “Sam and I would really like that.” Josie glanced at her children. “So would Sammy and Johanna.”

“I’m sure my parents would enjoy it, too.”

“Drop me a note now and then, all right?” Josie went to get her purse and pulled out a small tablet. “Won’t ya jot down your address for me? I know your Mamm has it, but I don’t want to trouble her for it.”

Tilly obliged, finding Josie’s enthusiasm to be very sweet, even contagious. She wrote her mailing address and gave her another hug.

Josie seemed reluctant to say good-bye and went along with Tilly out to the car, where Ruthie was loading the suitcases into the trunk. Ruth also had a box of things from her hope chest she was trying to squeeze in.

“I’m glad you’ll be living in Daed and Mamm’s house,” Ruthie said, giving Josie a quick embrace. “Have a happy life here. . . . I know you will.”

Tilly waved again, and at that moment, she wished she and Ruthie were heading straight out to the old Lincoln Highway, and then east toward home. But their brother Melvin was waiting, and so was the river.

I
’ve just spotted my sisters a-comin’,” Melvin told Susannah as she pounded down her bread dough at the kitchen counter. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Do ya expect to be gone long?”

He shook his head. “The girls have to get on the road if they want to make it home by sundown.”

His dear wife gave a gentle wave, and he reached for his jacket and pushed his black felt hat down on his head. Outdoors, he waited for Ruthie to move from the front seat to the back when she insisted he ride up front with Tilly. “Ain’t necessary,” he protested, but Ruthie had her way. A right spunky one, she was.

He didn’t have to wonder why Tilly was quiet during the drive.
Just as well,
he thought, taking in the sights as they swiftly moved farther from his home and familiar surroundings. It was strange to see other farmers’ fields zipping past so quick-like. Goodness, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to riding in a car, or, for that matter, a rented van.

When they arrived at the park, he saw that the area hadn’t changed much in nine years, with the exception of the trees
and the undergrowth along the riverbank. But of course it was deep autumn now. As he recalled, the place had been greener than green that long-ago Sunday in July when he and his family met up with Daed and Mamm and the rest for the picnic.

He’d never forgotten the crest of the river that fateful day. The swiftness of the water, too.
Little
Anna never had a chance,
he thought, wishing he’d been standing closer to where she’d fallen in.
I
might’ve saved her.

The thing that got Melvin through the worst times—and surely his parents, too—was the hope of seeing Anna again in Glory. He needed to just set his mind on that and not let it fade away.

“What do you recall most about that day?” Tilly asked, falling in step with him while Ruthie wandered off on her own.

He’d come for this very reason—to remember. “Well, it was Ruthie, Josie, and little Anna—the three of them—moseying toward the river, if I’m not fuzzy on that. The older girls were laughing and talking, but Anna was smirking, looking back at me. Hard to forget that.” Melvin coughed a little, nearly overcome. “I thought she was daring me, wanting me to do again what I’d just done ten minutes before.”

“Oh? What was that?”

He led Tilly slowly to the river’s edge, close to the actual spot on the embankment where Anna had tried to mimic Melvin’s stunt that terrible day. “Poor little girl, she saw me and must’ve thought it was easy to balance herself—and right there, of all places.” He pointed to the exceptionally narrow ridge where he’d last seen Anna, her tiny wavering arms stretched wide. “She tried to walk as though on a tightrope, hovering frighteningly near the roaring river.” He shook his head. “It was my blunder . . . I’m to blame for it. Shoulda been
more responsible.” He mopped his eyes with his kerchief now, unable to continue.

Tilly looked stunned. “But I was the one who turned my back—I thought she was safe with Ruthie and Josie.” Her voice cracked. “She must’ve toppled. It happened so fast!”

Solemnly, he nodded. “I shoulda known better.”

Tilly pushed her hand through the crook of his arm. “Oh, Melvin, and you’ve lived with this for so awful long. I’m so sorry . . . so very sorry.” She paused. “I, too, have carried guilt for her death. I’ve never told a soul, but Anna bickered with me that morning—and a few days earlier, as well.” Tilly began to share the things their little sister had said. “At the time, I tried to overlook it as mere childishness, but I was tired of her feisty attitude and insisted she obey me—demanded it. She did not seem very receptive to what I’d said . . . not right away.”

“Well, to your credit, she could be a handful. Susannah had to reprimand her for bein’ lippy nearly every time we baby-sat her.”

Tilly looked shocked. “And here I thought it was just me she got sassy with.”

“She was just a little tyke, still learnin’ to obey an’ all.” Melvin shook his head. “Wasn’t her fault she fell in, though.”

“No . . . not at all.” Tilly sounded like she was crying. “Nor was it yours, dear brother.”

Arm in arm, they stood watching the river flow past them. Melvin said he hadn’t been able to return there after that summer. “I’m glad I could come here with you today, close as ya always were to her. I hope ya know how Anna looked up to you. She loved ya so.”

“And I loved her. If I could go back and live that day over, I would never have let her out of my sight. Never,” Tilly said,
gripping his arm, her hand trembling. “Anna would be fourteen if she’d lived . . . ever think of that?”

“
Jah
, I do. And often. Daed would soon have his work cut out for him, fending off would-be beaus. Doubt any of ’em would have met his expectations.” Melvin gave a chuckle. “Ya know, when I contacted you and Ruthie to come for the anniversary party, I never dreamed I’d be standing here spillin’ my guts like this.”

“Maybe it was time.” Tilly smiled at him. “For both of us.”

Melvin heard Ruthie calling to them from up a ways. She waved at them dramatically as she sat on an enormous tree limb, high over the river. “You’re givin’ me the heebie-jeebies up there,” he called to her. “Be careful, won’t ya?”

Tilly groaned. “I think she must be feeling her oats.”

“Freedom does that, I ’spect.”

Tilly turned to face him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I just think she’s better off in Massachusetts near you and your family.”

“You honestly believe that?”

“In Ruthie’s case, I do.” He wasn’t going to say what he knew about Will Kauffman’s inability to follow through with much of anything, not to mention the lad’s clumsiness with road horses. Will had good intentions, but he still needed to grow up, and then some.

“
Denki
,
Bruder . . .
means a lot.”

Melvin led her back to the car, away from the river. He heard Ruthie running up behind them, calling to them, sounding like a young girl again. “I’m glad you both came to Eden Valley to see us,” he said as they all got back into Tilly’s car to head to his place.

“We are, too,” Ruthie piped up from the backseat. “Aren’t we, sister?”

Tilly started the car and smiled at him. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Melvin. Not for the world.” She laughed at what she’d said. “Well, you know.”

They exchanged glances, and he was laughing now, too.

“Will you keep us posted on Daed’s health?” Tilly asked before they arrived back at his farm.

“I intend to,
jah
.”

“You have my address,” Tilly said.

“And you . . . why don’t ya send Susannah and me a note from time to time, if ya don’t mind.”

Tilly leaned over and squeezed his hand. “So good to hear your side of things today. At long last. You have no idea how much it meant to me.”

“Almost said the same.” He cleared his throat as tears threatened. “Next time, don’t wait so long to visit.”

Ruthie got out of the car when he did and wrapped her arms around his neck, warming his heart down to his toes. “I never, ever expected to return to Eden Valley,” she said, eyes blinking up at him. “But I’m so happy I did.”

He stood there, watching them go, back to the outside world. And now that he’d spent some time with Tilly and Ruth, he wouldn’t say that it was a terrible thing they lived fancy. No, he couldn’t say that at all.

When he no longer could see Tilly’s red dot of a car, Melvin turned and headed for the barn, then changed his mind and walked toward the house instead. He went in and kissed Susannah soundly, catching her off guard, sniffing to see if her delicious rolls were ready to sample.

“Well, ain’t you somethin’,” his wife said, surprising him with a kiss right on his lips.

“When’s dinner?”

“When do ya think?” she joked. “Same time as always.”

He chuckled, cheered by the sameness of his life, a regularity he embraced, and thankful for his daily routine around the farm, the fertile soil entrusted to him as a gift from the Lord God above. Mighty glad, too, for things like a creaking windmill, his holey work boots, and the warm knit sweater Susannah had recently made for him.
I’m
just plain grateful for life.

Sunset was not far off, and the evening sun shone in a spectacular way on the Rockport harbor this time of year, making for golden views. Tilly wondered if Kris’s mother might have supper waiting.

“Are you all right?” she asked her sister, who’d joined her up front for the long drive home.

“How’s it possible to experience heartbreak and relief at the same time?”

Tilly nodded. “I’m sorry you had to relive that old pain.”

“It’s okay, really.” Ruth explained how she’d privately worried if she could even cut it as an Amishwoman anymore. “Especially being as submissive as expected . . . and the whole mindset in the Plain community. And oh, the hard work! Many things would’ve been difficult for me, as you can imagine.” She talked about how she’d struggled with the idea of joining church there, after enjoying such a different type of worship in Rockport. “I guess, if things had worked out between Will and me, I might’ve been able to compromise somehow . . . if
he had been willing. Somehow I doubt he would have.” She shrugged. “Who knows now.”

Tilly listened, aware that Ruth sounded much more composed today.
More sure
of herself.

“But, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I wasn’t looking for an excuse.”

The thought had crossed Tilly’s mind, too. “I think you made a good choice,” she encouraged her. “No looking back.”

“Sometimes, I guess you just have to get the past out of your system. Maybe I was trying to live out what might’ve been.”

“Hmm . . .” She nodded.

They pulled into a gas station at the top of a hill, overlooking their postcard-worthy little town, and Tilly asked if Ruth wanted to join her and the family for supper.

“That would be nice. And I’d like to see the twins . . . seems like eons.”

Tilly laughed. “You’re not sounding very Amish anymore.”

“Eden Valley almost feels like a dream to me now. Were we really there?”

Tilly realized she, too, felt nearly the same.

“Hey . . . we forgot to stop by the cemetery before we left,” Ruthie said, getting out of the car to stretch her legs while Tilly pumped gas.

“I thought of it after we dropped off Melvin but decided I’d had enough gloom for one day,” Tilly said.

“You didn’t look miserable, though, walking along the river with our brother.”

“It was a blessing, really.” She wouldn’t go into the things Melvin had shared, and regarding precious Anna, there was really nothing more to say. Their little sister had been taken early—their heavenly Father’s supreme will, whether Tilly or
Melvin thought they had been responsible or not. Tilly had to let herself step out in faith, wholly trusting in the sovereignty of God, knowing that the sufferings of life didn’t have to crush her but could instead draw her closer to the Savior.

Tilly realized, while overlooking the radiant harbor, that sometime in the past week, she had also forgiven herself. Somewhere on Amish soil, where heaven touched earth in Eden Valley.