A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (48 page)

BOOK: A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series)
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“You’re going to remain silent? Still? Is this your way of punishing me?” When Mattie didn’t speak, Clara smacked the table with the flat of her hand. “It’s not my fault Jerry’s in jail. You shouldn’t have allowed him to continue down that path of destruction—”

“Do you think I didn’t try?” Mattie’s voice was broken, pouring from her as the tears slid down her cheeks. “Do you honestly believe I watched him and did nothing to turn him back to our ways? But he wouldn’t come. He would promise. He would look me in the eyes and tell me that it was…was the last time.”

“Why did you believe him?” Clara asked, no longer hollering.

“Because I wanted to.” Mattie met her gaze now. “And yes, if there was sin, there was sin in that—sin in seeing what I wanted to see. Sin in hoping where there was no hope to be had.”

“There is always hope, Mattie. With
Gotte,
all things are possible.”
Miriam didn’t move any closer. She didn’t want to frighten Mattie off.


Ya
. I’ve read that verse.”

“Do you believe it?” Lydia asked.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” Mattie crossed her arms on the table, leaned forward until her white
kapp
met the gray fabric of the sleeve of her dress and her face was completely hidden, but she didn’t make any other sound.

Clara stood, walked around the table, and sat on the other side of Mattie. When she put her arms around her, Mattie turned and allowed herself to be enfolded in her embrace. She wept.

Whether she was weeping for Jerry or herself or the dreams that might never take place, Miriam couldn’t say.

She could say, with certainty, as they sat in the sunshine, their lunches uneaten and the cabins silent around them, that they were making progress. The fortress Mattie had built around her heart had been breached, and she’d allowed friendship inside.

Together, they could face whatever lay ahead.

Chapter 42

G
abe tried to stay awake as Miriam caught him up on the day’s events. Suddenly, there was something warm, squirming, and a little wet on his stomach.

“How does she learn to pull my beard while she’s still so young?” He stared at his daughter in wonder, who smiled back at him and slobbered on his nightshirt.

“It tickles her. Of course she’s going to pull on it.”

Gabe rolled to his side, placing Rachel on the bed between them. Miriam had the gas lantern turned to low, sitting on her nightstand. She was rubbing lotion onto first one leg and then the other, and he wondered briefly if he could stay awake long enough to apply some to her back. That always earned him extra points in the incredible husband category.

Rachel yawned and he yawned.

Probably he shouldn’t have worked the extra hour after dinner. Tomorrow he’d stop early so he’d have more energy in the evening, more energy in the bedroom.

His eyelids felt so heavy, and the bed so good. The sheets smelled fresh, the quilt was just the right weight for a summer evening, and his pillow was perfect for drifting off to sleep.

“Gabe?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you still awake?”


Ya
. I’m awake.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Mattie and Clara, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Grace.”

Gabe stretched his eyes wide and blinked repeatedly. It had worked when Rachel was first born and Miriam needed sleep. “I’m here for you,
fraa
. Here and wide awake.” He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a yawn.

“I saw that.”

“It was Rachel’s fault. She yawns and I yawn. It’s a natural reaction.”

“I’ll give you the short version.” Miriam placed her lotion on the nightstand and snuggled down under the quilt so they were eye to eye, the top of Rachel’s head between them.

Gabe realized again how blessed he was. Grace was down the hall, another year of school behind her. She’d adjusted to their new community, her new
mamm
, and now a new sister. He was lying in bed in a good house, on a productive farm, next to a woman who loved him.

Rachel blew a bubble and waved her fist in the air.

Rachel. She was a miracle beyond what he could even comprehend.

Gabe raised his eyes to Miriam.

God had blessed them, more than he would have ever hoped or dreamed. The thought wakened him more than two cups of strong coffee could have.

“Give me any version you like,” he said quietly.

“Mattie told her side of what happened today.”


Ya?

“She didn’t suspect Jerry’s drug use at first. He promised they would marry. She knew he was on his
rumspringa
and that he was drinking with the other boys. At the time, she didn’t share her fears with anyone because she wanted to protect him. She thought love protects.”

“Sometimes it does.”

“But this time her silence helped him to hide his addiction. Others might have been able to intervene if she hadn’t carried the burden alone.”

Gabe reached out to touch his wife’s beautiful black hair and run his hand down the length of it. “That’s a natural enough reaction, though—to protect. She’s young and was frightened, I’m sure.”

“Jerry used up all his…sources, I think she said. After a few months there was no one else for him to turn to in the area. She kept begging him to stop going with the other boys. One time she even vowed to quit seeing him, but that only lasted a few days. When he showed up at her house asking for her help and promising to change…” Miriam reached out and adjusted Rachel’s blanket.

The babe had popped her fist into her mouth and her eyes had drifted shut. She was fighting sleep, her eyes fluttering open occasionally, but Gabe knew the fight wouldn’t last long.

“So Mattie took him back.”


Ya
, and she started helping him again.” Miriam stared across the room, out into the night, speaking slowly and carefully as she remembered the girl’s confession. “She wasn’t in on the first burglaries, only those that occurred the last week. Jerry convinced her they would get enough money to make it to Eau Claire, where he would find a job. He even told her they would eventually send back money for what they stole.”

Gabe didn’t answer that. He only flipped over on his back, stretched, and then folded his arms under his head.

“Her guilt is so heavy, Gabe, and she’s so young. Jerry is the one who persuaded her to do those things.”

“And yet by that point she realized he was under the influence of the drugs.”

“True.”

“She knew he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Yes, but—”

“And she went along with him anyway.”

“You make it sound as if she were the one making the decisions.”

Gabe allowed the silence of the summer evening to permeate the troubles and questions disturbing his wife.

Rachel had fallen asleep during Miriam’s story, lying peacefully between her parents.

Miriam stood and carried the baby to her crib, which sat in the corner of their room. Soon they would be moving it to her bedroom down the hall. Gabe wasn’t quite ready for that, but he knew all things changed. His not being ready wouldn’t stop time from steadily pushing them all forward.

When Miriam climbed back into bed, she snuggled up against him. “Love forgives,” she whispered.


Ya
, and I’m glad it does.” He ran his hand up and down her arm.

“You’re right, though. Mattie will have to accept responsibility for her actions in this situation. By doing so, by treating her as an adult instead of a victim, perhaps she will grow stronger.”

“Our strength comes from the Lord. Mattie is fortunate to have a good community and good
freinden
.”

“Once Clara worked past her anger, she admitted she felt guilty for not noticing all that was going on with Jerry and with Mattie, for not intervening earlier. I think those two girls will become very close.”

“See? Good
freinden
. They will be fine.” Gabe was suddenly wide awake. The eye exercises must have worked.

“For a moment this afternoon, I thought they would throw the food or the dishes at each other.”

“That would have been terrible,” Gabe said, nuzzling her neck.

“Indeed.”

“But with all that experience as a schoolteacher, you’d know what to do.”

“It helps me to handle you.”

Gabe thought about arguing with her, but it didn’t seem like the best time to say anything other than “Yes, dear.” A light breeze was coming through the window, Rachel was sound asleep, and he was feeling surprisingly energetic.

Grace couldn’t believe it when she woke up the next day—a Tuesday—and her mother asked if she wanted to go to her grandparents’.

“Sure, I do!” She had her chores done and her bag of drawing supplies ready to go quicker than Hunter could tree a squirrel.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked as they set off down the lane.

“I thought we could help with
mamm
’s garden.”

Grace stared down at her lap, and then she decided to ask the question that had popped into her head. She was learning it was better to ask than to let something bounce around inside there for days.

“Is she worse? Is
mammi
sick again?”

“No, honey. She’s still getting better.”

“Oh,
gut
.” Grace let her head fall back against the seat and rubbed her hand against her chest. “My heart actually jumped up and down.”

Miriam smiled. “You love your
grossmammi
, don’t you?”


Ya
, and I’m trying to learn not to worry, but it’s hard. When I think I’ve got the hang of it, I slip up.”

“Feed your faith and your doubts will starve to death.”

“What does that mean?” Grace allowed the last word to drag out as she turned around in the seat to hand Rachel one of her rattles.

“It means you need to study—”

“My Bible.” Grace plopped back on the seat.


Ya
, and if you do, eventually you’ll worry less.”

“Does it work with you?”

Miriam smiled. “I’m still learning.”

By the time they reached Abigail and Joshua’s, Rachel was tired of the rattle and ready for something to eat. Miriam left to feed the baby while Grace helped unload their gardening gloves and some seed plants they had brought from their own garden.

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