A Daughter's Dream (9 page)

Thursday, September 3

A
ugust was a memory.

The corn had been harvested and plowed under a month ago. Now they were waiting for the timing to be right to bale hay.

And while the new rhythm of his life was feeling easier, Jacob wasn't finding any more enjoyment in his new occupation than he had last week or the week before that. It was too bad, too, because he actually did enjoying spending so much time with his father. He didn't, however, enjoy feeling like a bumbling child around him.

After years of being in charge of a carpentry crew, Jake was now his father's student, dutifully listening as he imparted advice.

Today, after his
daed
had answered Jacob's many questions with more patience than Jacob had ever thought possible, the two of them had gone into the barn and repaired one of the
horse stalls. That had been the first time all day that Jake had felt like himself. He'd slipped on his worn leather work gloves, felt the length of wood for weaknesses, then expertly fitted new lumber into place.

His father had watched him in silence, only nodding from time to time. His intense stare made Jacob wonder what his father was thinking. Did he feel relief that his son was finally doing something without needing an explanation first? Or was he merely wishing that Jacob could wield a hoe as well as a hammer?

Afterward, when his father had gone back to the pastures, presumably to make sure they hadn't left any tools behind, Jacob had lent his mother a hand. She'd been working in her garden all day digging up potatoes and carrots. She'd been grateful for his company and kept up a lively, one-sided conversation, filling him in on her neighbors' and friends' antics while he brushed grasshoppers and other assorted bugs from his arms and face.

By six o'clock, his body was sore, his skin felt like it was covered in a fine layer of dust, and he was thoroughly disgruntled. Though he enjoyed the time with his parents, it was becoming more and more apparent that he was never going to be a decent farmer. He was definitely not the gifted farmer his father and his brother had been.

Perhaps just as important, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to be. He didn't care for farming. He now understood that it wasn't that he was ill-suited for the job; he simply detested it. The Lord had been wise to plant him in Pinecraft for the first part of his life.

“You seem pretty quiet today, son,” his
daed
said as they washed up at the spigot outside before heading into the house to shower. His mother hated dirt tracked on her clean wood floors.

“Do I?” He shrugged. “Must be the heat.”

“It's only seventy degrees out. It ain't the heat, Jacob. What's on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Well, nothing he wanted to talk to his father about. Daed had enough burdens to bear. After running his forearms under the faucet's spray, Jacob stepped back so his father could do the same.

As his
daed
turned off the faucet, he looked at Jake intently. “Are you worried about Lilly and what her teacher had to say?”

“
Nee
. I'm happy for her. And relieved. I was so worried Mrs. Mast was going to tell me that Lilly wasn't adjusting. Being too smart for her grade is a good thing, I think.”

“I'm inclined to agree. When you first told your mother and me about this, we weren't sure what to think. Marc had never acted like Lilly was anything but an average girl.” He frowned. “But now I'm wondering if Anne and Marc simply chose to pretend she was.”

Jacob hated to think anything negative about his brother, but he thought that might be the case. Marc had been excellent at being productive. He'd made lists of tasks and checked them off when they were accomplished.

But Jacob had a feeling that Lilly's special gifts might have really thrown his brother for a loop.

“I guess the Lord's timing is working perfectly again,” Jake mused. “He put Lilly in Mrs. Mast's class and in my care, too. Even though I'm not her
daed
, I am of the mind to help her develop her special talents instead of simply fitting in.”

“Well said, son.” After stretching his arms, his father placed his straw hat back on his head, brushed off the worst of the dust from his clothes, and led the way back to the house.

Years ago, Marc and Daed had come across a pallet of old bricks. They'd taken it home and fashioned a pretty red walkway from his mother's garden to the house. Over time, his mother had planted dozens and dozens of perennials along its edges. It was a beautiful walkway and fitting for his very kind and lovely mother. As they walked along it, Jacob realized that his mother had been meant to be a gardener and housewife. She kept a pretty, neat-as-a-pin home.

It made it clear that the Lord had given each of them special gifts that were meant to be used. “Daed, I am starting to get the feeling that Lilly has been covering up her talents.”

Just outside the back door, his
daed
bent down and unlaced his heavy work boots. “We need to figure out why that is,” he said. “It would be a shame if Lilly thought that we weren't going to be proud of her, no matter what. I hope she soon realizes that we simply want her to be happy. It don't matter to me if she goes a different path than I did or her parents intended.”

Jacob was glad they were on the same page. “
Jah
. I agree.”

Something flickered in his father's eyes. “I'm glad you do, son.”

Right before Jacob opened the door, he looked at his father curiously. “Why am I getting the feeling that you are talking about something more than Lilly?”

“Maybe I am.”

“I've been out in the fields all day. I'm hot, dirty, and tired. I don't know if I'm up for playing a guessing game.”

“I'm not playing a game with you, Jake.” But yet again he was staring at Jacob as if there was something mighty important to be read between the lines.

“Father, what are you needing me to understand?” he asked impatiently.

“I simply want you to think about yourself, son. Think about your gifts and what you might be hiding now.”

“What did I do?”

His father didn't crack a smile or look put off by Jacob's terse tone. “You moved here, took on the care of a teenaged girl, and now are trying to be a farmer.”

“
Jah
. So?” He couldn't imagine why his father would have a problem with any of that. He'd dropped everything for his family. Once more, he'd done it willingly and with an open heart.

“Ack, but you have always been like this. You never could see the forest for the trees.”

Jacob's mind was so muddled, he was having a difficult time following him. But he sensed his
daed
's words were important. Really important.

Frustrated with himself, Jacob lost it. “What? What are you trying to say, Daed?”

“That I see what you are doing. You're attempting to become something you're not meant to be. Furthermore, it's a poor fit, son. There is a reason you were happy down in Florida doing carpentry work. I don't want to be unkind, but you, Jacob, are a mighty poor farmer.”

“Daed, I don't know what to say. I moved here to help you and Mamm. I wanted to help with Lilly.”

“I know you did.”

“And I moved here to be closer to you. It will always be a regret of mine that I didn't stay in better contact with Marc and Anne.”

“I am aware of that, too.” Taking off his worn straw hat again, his father ran a hand through his brown hair. It was a gesture
that Jacob had witnessed hundreds of times growing up. It was an act that signaled his
daed
was running out of patience. More than that, he was weary. A sure sign that his father was tired of talking and had nothing else to say.

“Do you want me to figure the rest of this out on my own?” Jacob asked.

“If you want. But just remember that you and Lilly have more in common than you think. Each of you is afraid to show the world the person you really are because you don't want to disappoint. But what you have to understand is that neither of you is making anyone happy when you try to be something you ain't.”

Slapping his hat back on his head, his father said, “Be the person God meant you to be, Jacob. If you do that, everything else will fall into place.”

“I'll . . . I'll talk to Lilly about that tonight.”

“Gut.”
His father smiled softly. “That is a
gut
start, son.”

“And . . . and I'll do some thinking about who the Lord has intended for me to be all along.”

“That is an even better start,” he replied. Then, as Jacob stood in the doorway, his father pushed by him and strode inside.

Friday, September 4

A
fter double-checking that no one was around, Rebecca called out, “Hiya, turtles. It's a
gut
day out. Ain't so?”

Of course they didn't reply. She never expected that! But she did kind of think that her little friends in this pond were happy to hear from her.

There wasn't a real good reason why Dawdi Pond had always made her so happy. It wasn't much. Some people in and around Charm and Sugarcreek had ponds that could probably be called lakes, they were so large. This one wasn't. But it was within easy walking distance, and it had a nice bank with just enough rocks so that Rebecca could sit on there and never get the seat of her dress smudged with dirt or mud. And it froze quickly in the winter, which meant she could skate on it for months. She loved that. She loved putting on her favorite blue mittens and gliding across the ice, feeling as free and nimble as the birds that flew over it.

But she loved the pond most of all because a sapling had fallen
across the middle of it when she was a young girl . . . and that's where the turtles now liked to sit.

Rebecca didn't really understand it, but she loved those turtles. She liked to count them resting in a row, their green and brown shells lined up neatly like jars on a shelf. She loved when their little green heads poked out. Sometimes they stretched them toward the sun. And sometimes—she was sure of it—they stretched them toward her so they could see her.

Whenever they were out, Rebecca would gather up the skirts of her dress, perch on the edge of a rock, and watch them. And they, in turn, watched her. Their beady black eyes always looked so serious. So intent.

When she was a little girl, she used to pretend that they could read her mind. When she was old enough to go to the pond by herself, she would talk to them.

Now that she had little Oscar to look after, she talked to him. But sometimes he got tired of hearing about her day and began rooting around in the weeds for good things to eat before taking a nap. Rebecca decided that bulldogs were mighty cute and good to cuddle . . . but they had far shorter attention spans than a row of box turtles.

“Hey!” She started at the sound of Lukas's voice. “I thought I'd find you here,” he said as he strode forward along the bank.

“Luke, it's close to eight. Why are you out here?”

He shrugged. “After you left to take Oscar for a walk, Amelia asked Darla if she'd go deliver some more casseroles with her.”

“Do you mind?” Rebecca had a feeling that sometimes Lukas and Darla wished they had more time to spend alone together.

“Nah, I didn't mind at all. Amelia needs some company, and I think Darla is having fun getting to know her better.”

“I can see that. Darla and I were always better friends because we're close to the same age. We used to tell Amelia to leave us alone.”

“I did the same with Levi.” He winced, as he always did whenever he mentioned their brother.

“Well, Oscar got tuckered out so I decided to give him a little rest before heading home.”

Lukas grinned. “
Nee
, I think you decided to visit with your turtle friends and Oscar got bored.”

She was slightly offended. Okay, she was slightly embarrassed. “I don't have turtle friends.”

“You talk to turtles, Becky. They also stare right at you.”

She couldn't help but be pleased that he noticed. “They kinda do, don't they?”

“I heard you speaking to them when I walked around the bend.”

She didn't bother to deny it—though she wished she'd spied him earlier. “They are good listeners.” She shrugged. “They never talk back or interrupt.”

“Sounds like we could all learn from them.” He smiled. “Did you figure out whatever was bothering you?”

“Maybe.”

“Want to share?”

“I don't want to burden you, Luke.”

Sitting down on the ground, he picked up Oscar and deposited him on his lap. As the puppy wiggled and cuddled closer, Lukas petted him absently. “You don't have to tell me a thing. But if you'd like to, I'd like to hear it.”

Glancing his way, Rebecca noticed that he was watching her in an expectant way. He really was hoping she'd share her bur
dens with him . . . just like he'd shared his fears a few months ago when he was so worried about his relationship with Darla.

That's what love was, she remembered. A give-and-take. Being brave enough to share, even when those things that are shared don't present oneself in the best light.

With that in mind, she plunged forward. “The truth is that I've been kind of worried, Lukas.”

“About?”

“About my big dream.”

“I know what that is. Your dream of becoming a teacher.”

“Jah.”
Staring at the turtles, she said, “I've always kind of resented the fact that Mamm and Daed never took my dream of wanting to be a teacher seriously. I felt that Daed had his dream of owning the lumber mill and running it. But it was so demanding, he kind of just expected the rest of us to want his dream, too.”

“I can see your point,” he said slowly. “He had me up there helping out and doing odd jobs from the time I was ten. He honestly didn't allow me to think that my future would be anything but the mill.”

Rebecca had never heard Lukas actually admit that. “Did that bother you?”

He shook his head. “
Nee
. I wanted that, too. I wanted to run it.” Looking embarrassed, he added, “That said, I never wanted to take it over at this age.”

“I know that. Everyone knows that.”

“I hope so,” he mused. “But to answer your question, I guess my dream was what our father wanted it to be.” He paused, then added, “Rebecca, it's okay to want to be a teacher. You shouldn't feel bad that you are now getting the opportunity to
help out in the classroom because Mamm and Daed died. They would have let you do it. They would have never stood in the way of that.”

“I know.”

He tilted his head. “So what's bothering you? Are you wishing that you were the teacher now?”

“
Nee
, that's not it.”

“Then what is it?”

She couldn't put it off any longer. “Lukas, the problem is that I am not a very good teacher.”

“You've already told me this. Why are you bothered now?”

“I'm bothered because I've really been trying hard to improve. Unfortunately, it's not working. I'm not good with all those
kinner
.”

“I'm sure you're fine.”

It was time to be brutally honest, with both herself and him. “
Nee
, I'm not.”

“You haven't been trying all that long. Only a few weeks. No one gets good at anything in just a few weeks.”

She supposed he had a point. But still. “I don't know.”

“Becky, you will be a
gut
teacher one day,” he stated in his usual confident way. Then he looked at her carefully. “That is, if that's what you want to happen.”

He'd hit the nail on the head.

“That's the problem. You see, I'm starting to think that maybe I don't want to be a
gut
teacher.”

All his confidence drifted into confusion. “I'm sorry, Becky, but you've lost me.”

She knew the feeling! She'd been feeling pretty lost herself. After giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts, she said,
“Lukas, today, when I was at school, all I could think about was that I was ready to get out of there.”

“Because?”

“Because I didn't know what to say to some of those scholars of Rachel's! A couple of the boys and girls asked for help and I had no idea how to answer them.” Shuddering dramatically, she said, “It was awful. Actually, I spent most of my time wondering if I was going to see Jacob Yoder again.”

“He's your new student's
daed
, right? The carpenter.”

“He's Lilly's uncle. And yes, he's the carpenter.” But he was also more than that. He was a man who'd given up his whole life for his family. A man who was trying his best with a grieving, confused niece.

And a man who had looked at her like she was something special.

“Hmm.”

Surprised, she turned away from the turtles and glanced Lukas's way.

His lips were twitching.

“Lukas! Lukas, are you laughing at me? Are you making fun of my interest in Jacob?”

“Of course not.” But his eyes were filled with humor, and he looked as if it was taking everything he had to not burst into laughter.

“Then what is so funny?”

“What isn't?” he countered. “Now you have your heart's desire and you don't like it. And in the meantime, I'm having to deal with Mercy.”

She was stunned. Every time that Mercy filled in for her, Lukas acted as if she was the best substitute in the world. No,
he'd acted like she was the best
replacement
in the world. In spite of herself, Rebecca had even been a bit jealous.

“Wait a minute,” she blurted. “You told me you liked having her there.”

He shot her a vintage Lukas look, one straight from the days when he was fifteen and acted as if he could rule the world. “Of course I was going to tell you that I liked having Mercy fill in for you. I didn't want you to stop being around
kinner
for me.”

“But . . . but you aren't happy with her?”

“Oh, she's okay. She does a good job, I suppose. But when she's not hard at work? Well, she drives me crazy.”

“Really?” Rebecca shouldn't have been so happy about that.

“Really,” Lukas replied, his voice firm. “Becky, she's so young.”

“She is eighteen.”

“She's a young eighteen. She's bossy. She's chatty.” He paused and glared at her. “And she flirts with half the workers.”

“Oh, she does not.”

“She does. Even Roman noticed and he hardly notices anything besides the pieces he works on.”

If Lukas was right about that, then that said it all. Roman was the most skilled craftsman in the mill. He was given the best jobs, usually the ones where someone famous asked for a hand-carved front door or intricate woodwork around a mantel.

“It sounds as if I need to get back to my regular schedule.”

“Becky,
nee
. Look, Mercy does a
gut
job. Sure she has her flaws, but we all do. If she doesn't work out, I'll hire someone else. What's important is that you find your happiness, too.”

“What I'm trying to tell you is that I think my happiness might be at our family's lumber mill.” When he stayed quiet, she
continued. “I hadn't realized it until now, but I think I need that connection to you and Levi and our parents.”

“I can understand that.”

“You do?”

“Sure. That's why I'm still there, too.” He smiled then and pointed to the log. “Look at your turtles, Becky.”

Looking at the log, she noticed only half of them remained. “Where did they all go?”

Smiling softly, he said, “I do believe they hopped back in the water and started swimming. Some of them might even be trying to meet new, ah, male turtles.”

She groaned. “Subtlety has never been your strong point,
bruder
.”

“That is true.” He stretched his legs. “But it ain't been yours, either.”

“So you think I should start swimming again?”

“I think you should continue to find your happiness. It's what Mamm and Daed would have wanted.”

A lump filled her throat.

There was no reason to reply because she knew what he said was true. Every single word.