Winter of Wishes (15 page)

Rhoda heard awe in his voice and stole a glance at him. His dark brown eyes glimmered
in the low light. “Everything went all right for mother and child, I hope.”

“Perfect, yes. This was the couple’s second child, so the mom knew what to expect
and the dad was right there coaching her,” he replied quietly. “Brought back the nights
I spent in the delivery room when Taylor and Brett were born.”

He paused then, a mixture of joy and regret edging his expression. “I found myself
wishing Megan could still feel the love she shared with us back then . . .”

“
Jah
, that would be
gut
for all of ya,” Rhoda murmured. It was the right thing to say, even if she preferred
to imagine herself patching this family together rather than Andy’s ex-wife coming
back.

Andy stood up then, as though to dispel his regrets. “No sense in wishing for what
will never be, though,” he remarked. “And maybe you Amish have it right. Maybe her
leaving us was God’s will . . . God telling us we could all do better for ourselves
if we went our separate ways.”

Andy held her gaze then. “After all, I would never have considered a career in nursing
if I were still married to Megan. Last I heard, she married a wealthy fellow and moved
to some upscale town on the California coast. I could never have given her that sort
of life, and I know she’s happier now.”

“But what about the kids? How can she live with herself, knowing she left—” Rhoda
clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That’s none of my beeswax.”

Andy’s smile forgave her immediately. “Those are questions anyone would ask, Rhoda.
But it became apparent that while Megan liked the
idea
of being a mother . . . enjoyed the attention folks showered on her while she was
pregnant and tending our babies, the realities of raising kids frustrated her.”

“Ah. The stinky diapers and fussy cryin’ at all hours. The spit-up all over a clean
dress.”

“And the idea that her time—her life—wouldn’t be her own again until they grew up
and moved out.” Andy let out a sad chuckle. “Once Taylor and Brett started walking
and talking—making demands—their mom felt she was losing herself.”

Rhoda’s eyes widened. What on earth did that mean,
losing herself
? What woman could begrudge her children the time and love and effort it required
to raise them? “Well, ya surely are talkin’ about it more reasonably than I would
be. Beggin’ your pardon, but Megan sounds mighty self-centered.”

“There’s that,” he agreed. Then they both laughed at how he’d picked up on Rhoda’s
habit of saying that phrase.

“Well, thanks for listening. And thanks for taking care of my family, Rhoda,” he continued,
as though he wanted to say it all in an uninterrupted rush to be sure he got it out.
“Even a couple weeks of being around your simple goodness has helped me see my divorce
in a different light. I believe I’ve honored God’s plan by entering another profession
. . . and doing the best I could with my family, in the meantime. That’s more of a
comfort than you can possibly know.”

The ride home felt awkward, in a car filled with unspoken emotions, but Rhoda contented
herself with gazing out the window at the snow-blanketed fields. When Andy pulled
over into a driveway, before they reached the first farms of Willow Ridge, she looked
across the darkness at him.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but you’ve already left your mark on me—on my kids
and Mom,” Andy said earnestly. “I didn’t want to drop you off without saying how badly
we’ll all miss you—how much I wish I could get to know you so much better, Rhoda.”

Her breath left her in a slow sigh. “Me too, Andy,” she replied with a hitch in her
voice.

“Please don’t cry,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “It’s all I can do, not to kiss
away your tears.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please.”

She reached into her coat pocket for a tissue and loudly blew her nose. Andy backed
onto the blacktop and drove the short distance to the Sweet Seasons without saying
anything more, but Rhoda sensed his heart was as full as hers. When he turned in at
the Lantzes’ lane, they saw a lamp burning in one of the upstairs apartment windows,
its light muted by the closed curtains. “Mamma’s waited up,” she murmured. “Might
as well pull up in front of the smithy.”

“If it weren’t past ten o’clock, I’d go in and say hi to her,” he murmured.

Rhoda let out a nervous laugh, peering up through the windshield to see if her mother’s
form was outlined in the window. “That’s not such a
gut
idea, but I appreciate ya wantin’ to be polite. She’s let her hair down by now and
she’s most likely in her nightgown. I’d best get on upstairs.” When she pulled on
the door handle, Andy took hold of her arm.

“Whoa there, Rhoda. I owe you some money and I won’t let you refuse it.”

How had he known she’d intended to do just that? As Andy took bills from his wallet,
folded them, and curled her hand around them, his touch made her tremble. “Thank you
from the bottom of my heart, Rhoda. I wish you all the best.”

“
Jah
, you too,” she rasped. “Tell the kids—your
mamm
—what a joy they’ve been. I’m sorry I couldn’t find the right time or the words to
tell them good-bye.” She slipped her hand out of his and stumbled out of the car,
her vision blurred with tears. Bless him, Andy didn’t pull away until she’d found
the handle of the smithy door in the beam of his headlights—

“Rhoda Lantz, I had figured you for an obedient, God-fearing young woman,” a stern
male voice challenged. “You have disappointed me greatly tonight.”

Hiram! How had the bishop known when she’d be coming home? How long had he been waiting
here to catch her with Andy? Rhoda gawked at him, speechless, as he stepped from the
shadows at the side of the building. Did Mamma know he was here?

“When Preacher Tom told me of your sin with this
Englischer
, he and I wanted to believe you had truly repented when you confessed to him,” Hiram
continued, “but I see we were wrong.”

Andy was getting out of his car, and Rhoda heard the rapid
clump-clump-clump
of her mother’s footsteps descending the stairs from the apartment. All of the evening’s
best intentions, along with Preacher Tom’s promise to keep her confession to himself,
had apparently come to nothing. Her head began to spin.

Rhoda knew better than to say that to Hiram’s face. As Andy stepped toward the bishop
with his hand extended, her heart thudded dully in her chest. “We’ve not met, sir,”
he said, “but—”

“Andy Leitner, this is Hiram Knepp, the bishop of Willow Ridge,” Rhoda blurted. Her
gaze darted from one man to the other.

“I assure you that Rhoda and I have discussed this situation,” Andy continued in a
low, firm voice. “Because of the circumstances of her faith, today was her last day
working for me. It was never my intent to cause her a problem.”

Hiram kept his hands in his coat pockets. “You have no idea about the
circumstances
of her faith,” he replied in a voice that was frostier than the winter night. “She
will most likely be shunned—ostracized by her family and friends—well into the New
Year, because of your thoughtless lusting. You have compromised Rhoda’s reputation
in our community, as well as her chance for salvation in our Lord Jesus.”

The smithy door swung open and Mamma stepped out, clutching her coat around her and
holding an oil lamp. Her hair was still wound into a bun beneath a kapp, so she’d
been waiting up—but her peeved expression told Rhoda that Mamma hadn’t expected to
deal with Hiram. “Bishop, the minute I hear our Willow Ridge church no longer believes
in forgiveness, I’ll be packin’ up to go elsewhere,” she said in a strained voice.
“And it doesn’t set any too well with me that you, as our bishop under the ban, have
been sneakin’ around in the dark to catch my daughter at somethin’, either. Rhoda’s
chances for the grace of Jesus are lookin’ every bit as
gut
as yours do right now.”

Rhoda’s eyes widened. Her mother had always spoken her mind when Hiram challenged
her, but this pronouncement resounded like a slap in the bishop’s face—a direct defiance
of his authority. Rhoda wanted to grab Mamma in a fierce hug, but this wasn’t the
time to show her gratitude.

“I did as Preacher Tom instructed me,” Rhoda said nervously. “I quit workin’ for the
Leitner family—”

“But you returned for one last day, just as Lot’s wife defied the angels’ orders and
looked back at Sodom,” the bishop insisted. “You chose to turn toward your sin—”

“Sounds minor, my girl finishin’ out an honest job, compared to you hidin’ that fancy
car in your barn and drivin’ it around when nobody was lookin’,” Mamma fired back.

“And I take full responsibility for giving Rhoda two rides home,” Andy spoke up as
he stepped toward the bishop. “And yes, I kissed her, too. If this means I should
come before your church and confess, I’m ready to do that. Rhoda has done a wonderful
job caring for my family. Even though she explained the problems my giving her a ride
would cause, I overrode her reasoning. The blame is mine.”

Rhoda’s heart hammered. She’d never expected Andy to come forward this way. It embarrassed
her, having their kisses discussed so openly, yet Andy’s support touched her deeply.

“You have no place in our church, Mr. Leitner. Matter of fact,” Hiram continued bluntly,
“you have no place in Rhoda’s life, or in Willow Ridge. Go home and leave us to repair
the damage you’ve done.”

Andy looked startled, but his apologetic glance told Rhoda he was departing to save
her further backlash from the bishop—not because he agreed with what Hiram had said.
And just maybe . . . maybe he intended to see her again? Or was such a wish her heart’s
way of coping with this unexpected confrontation?

As Andy’s car pulled away, a gust of wind extinguished Mamma’s lamp. The three of
them stood in the whistling, wind-whipped darkness then. Hiram leaned closer to nail
Rhoda’s gaze with his own. “I expect to see you in the front pew at the next preaching
service to confess your sins, Rhoda. To plead for mercy and forgiveness. Do I make
myself clear?”

Could a bishop order her to appear at the next Members’ Meeting while he was still
shunned? Rhoda knew better than to press that question. As her mother slung an arm
around her shoulders, she instinctively leaned into Mamma’s strength, needing the
sense of solidarity.

“
Jah
, we’ll be there, Bishop,” her mother stated, “mostly to watch how folks vote for
your
reinstatement into the congregation’s
gut
graces that day. Far as I can see, ya haven’t picked up much in the way of humility
while ya were shunned, Hiram.”

When the bishop opened his mouth to reprimand her, Mamma held up her hand for silence.
“I hear a lot of talk in my café,” she said in an unwavering voice, “and I’ll be surprised
if ya get the unanimous invitation ya need to come back into the fold. I don’t know
what that means, as far as you resumin’ your place as our bishop. But ya might want
to pray on it.”

“Miriam, once again your lack of respect forces me to—”

“
Gut
night,” Mamma said as she opened the door to the smithy. “My Jesse would never have
tolerated your behavior toward his daughter, just as Tom and Gabe have raised questions
about the way you’ve hounded me. And if Ben were standin’ here, this conversation
wouldn’t be takin’ place,” she stated sternly. “Once again you’re steppin’ over the
lines, Hiram, and ya seem to be the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“I will trust in the Lord God, who chose me by the falling of the lot to be your bishop,”
Hiram replied tersely. “And I will abide by whatever decisions the members make a
week from Sunday.”

“
Jah
, we all will.” With that, Mamma propelled Rhoda through the open door and locked
it behind them. The two of them strode quickly across Ben’s shadowy blacksmith shop,
which was lit only by the pale light drifting down the stairway from their apartment.
At the bottom step, her mother gripped her shoulder.

“Tell me true, Rhoda,” Mamma insisted. “Did ya do anything else that needs confessin’?
If you’re to come out of this situation with Tom still takin’ your side, he needs
to know—”

“It was like Andy said, Mamma.
Jah
, he gave me another ride home—and
jah
, I went back to spend one more day workin’ with his family,” Rhoda whispered, “but
no more kisses. Nothin’ else to confess, except that . . .”

She turned her face, knowing how her affection for the Leitners had put Mamma in a
difficult position. “Well, Andy’s the most wonderful-
gut
fella. And it makes me sad enough, leavin’ him and his family, that I may well declare
myself a
maidel
and be done with it.”

“Oh, honey-bug, you’re young yet! Plenty of time for—”

“None of the other fellas I know will ever measure up to Andy,” Rhoda stated, her
heart in her throat. “And ya know
gut
and well they wouldn’t have offered to stand up with me in church, confessin’ to
what happened, the way he just did.”

She gazed at her mother, trying in vain to hold back her tears. “It was only a
kiss
, Mamma, and two rides in Andy’s car. Andy believes in God, same as we do. If he were
a Plain fella, we’d be havin’ no trouble with this situation. Ain’t so?”

Her mother closed her eyes and sadly shook her head. “The devil’s in the details,
daughter. Fallin’ for a man who’s not one of us leaves ya only one path to follow
. . . and it’s not the way any of us hope you’ll go.”