A Love Undone (5 page)

“I get how you feel, and I feel the same way, but our hands are tied, aren’t they?”

“Maybe.” Andy pondered the issue, and an idea came to him. “Do you think Uncle Lester would let us use his corrals and barns for this?” Their great-uncle used to train horses too, so he had the facilities.

“Even if he would, his place is three hours from here by car, and those horses could need boarding for months.” Levi pointed to a line in the article. “It says the horses might not be eligible for adoption until after the trial.”

“We can’t think about all that right now. The Humane Society has an immediate goal: to calm the horses where they’ll let a vet and
blacksmith tend to them. That’s where we come in. Then after the initial health care, we begin taming them.”

“Which could easily take three to four months,” Levi said.

“Ya, it could.”

Tobias took the article from Sadie, running his finger under the headline as he read it. “What happens to them if no one steps up?”

Levi’s shoulders slumped. Apparently the reality Andy saw was just now dawning on his younger brother. “They’ll try rescue organizations first, but the resources are always stretched for those groups. They’ll be left resorting to questionable places, causing the horses to become more traumatized. The weakest and most temperamental—often the ones who were the most abused—will probably be euthanized.”

“Daed, we can’t allow that.”

“I agree,” Levi said. “It would be hard to live with ourselves if we don’t respond to this plea for help.”

Sadie returned the article to its envelope. “Call your uncle and see if he’s willing to board them for free and if he knows anyone who could help you tend to them. Levi and I will ask your Daed to help us run the farm for the summer. Surely you could have most of them ready to be adopted in three to four months.”

It was a huge sacrifice of time and money, but how could they make a living from buying, training, and selling horses and not give back when the need arose?

The aroma of the pastries Jolene was baking wafted through the air as she grabbed a clean, wet shirt from the laundry basket. When she snapped it sharply in the wind, a faint spray of water danced from the shirt and into the crystal-clear air. Sunlight played with the miniscule dots of water, causing the colors of the rainbow to speckle the air for a brief moment before disappearing. Desire to capture the moment in paint swept over her. If time allowed late this afternoon, she’d unlock her hiding place, climb the stairs, and paint.

She pinned the shirt to the clothesline, breathing in the warm spring air. It was such a gorgeous day here on earth. How much more so was it for her Mamm and Daed?

After attaching the last article of clothing to the line, she picked up the basket. While heading for the house, she saw remnants of the Mother’s Day festivities in the side yard and walked that way. For the last five years, her siblings had honored her on Mother’s Day. Even now the joy of yesterday made her grin. She walked to the hammock her siblings had given her, gave it a gentle push, and laughed.

Her three brothers—Josiah, Michael, and Ray—had hung it for her between two old maple trees. But when she’d tried to lie in it, she’d fallen out. Numerous times. With their help she’d finally gotten the hang of using it. She had lounged there while the family sat in chairs around her, sharing warm and funny memories from both
before and after their parents died. Josiah’s two-year-old son had climbed into her arms and snuggled with her until he was fast asleep.

It was days like yesterday that refreshed her and reminded her what a blessed life she had. She couldn’t imagine being any more content than she was—even if Van had chosen to marry her and help her raise her siblings.

But he hadn’t.

To his credit, when he realized they wouldn’t marry, he didn’t simply break up with her and walk off. He’d remained by her side, giving her someone she could confide in as she carried the grief of such loss. Someone she could turn to when she didn’t know how to write checks or balance a checkbook, or where to order propane for the tank out back, or how to pay the water bill. He helped her with those things for six months. Then he gently said he couldn’t do it anymore. Apparently she and her siblings were an obstacle to his desire to move on with his life. According to Van, that was especially true of Ray, who was struggling with the loss of their parents and exhibiting it through impulsive and often violent outbursts. After telling her that, Van left the Keim property, shoving her back into that thick, unbearable grief once again. About two weeks later Jolene saw him in town with Donna Glick on his arm, a girl who’d been trying to outdo Jolene since they’d attended school together.

It had crushed her all over again. When she had healed enough that she could take full breaths, her hurt turned to anger, and she wrestled with herself until she found peace with losing Van and watching him fall in love, marry, and welcome children. Or maybe she’d just found resignation. She only knew that what bothered her wasn’t so much that he’d left her and married someone else but how
he’d done it. That used to keep her up at night, but she had finally submitted to it and decided it was best to refuse to think about it. But the
how
had ruined every bit of friendship that could’ve been salvaged.

Was anything on this earth more ugly or difficult to bear than true love turning into bitter disillusion?

She studied the old clapboard house where she’d been born. Across the yards—the front, sides, and back—were six dogwood trees, one for each of Benny and Rosanna Keim’s children. Jolene had carefully nurtured each from a cutting of the original tree her Daed had given to her Mamm as a wedding gift. The original tree had died within a year of her parents’ passing.

Thanks to Lester Fisher lowering the rent in exchange for Naomi and her cleaning his home, doing laundry, and cooking a few meals each week, they’d been able to stay in this house. At first Lester was gruff and difficult, but as time passed, they became good friends, and he’d made some really generous offers to help her and her family. As they grew closer, she began to confide in him. When she told him about her desire to paint and about the last gift her Daed had given her, Lester did something she never would have imagined possible. He gave her a way to free a piece of her soul. Although they didn’t live in the same church district, they did have the same bishop, and despite artwork being against the bishop’s edicts, Lester set up an art studio for her in his attic. At times that haven had seemed essential for her sanity. He’d put a padlock on the door to his attic, and he’d installed a warning bell that rang in the attic so that if she was up there painting when a visitor came by, she had time to scurry from the attic before anyone entered the house. It was a good system,
because all these years later no one else knew their secret. This exacting, difficult man had a soft spot for her.

She studied the house again. She’d been painting it when time allowed, but for the most part that only made it look worse—new rows of paint against weathered, peeling rows for months at a time. The home sat within easy walking distance of downtown Maple Shade, a small, now-thriving historic town at the heart of Winter Valley that had a clinic and a doctor. Wouldn’t her Mamm have loved to live long enough to see that?

In addition to the pleasure of the Mother’s Day celebration, Jolene had much to be grateful for. One of the biggest blessings was that whenever challenges had arisen—lack, frustrations, arguments, and everything else—she and her siblings had faced them together. Of her five little chicks, as they called themselves, only two remained in the nest—eighteen-year-old Ray and fourteen-year-old Hope.

Josiah, now twenty-six, Michael, now twenty-four, and Naomi, now twenty-two, were married. Michael had married last fall, and Naomi had married five months ago in December. Both had moved out, but they hadn’t gone far. Jolene still found it surprising how quiet the house seemed after two siblings moved out mere months apart.

How different would her life look in another decade? She was twenty-nine now, only ten years younger than her mama was when she died.

“Jolene?” The familiar voice washed over her, and she turned to see her oldest brother riding bareback toward her. What was he doing here this time of day on a Monday? He held up an index card. “Ruth wrote out the recipe last night for the carrot bread she brought over yesterday.”

“Gut. I’m going to make it and see if the bakery would like to carry it as a regular item. It was
that
good.” Jolene made pastries from home for the bakeshop four days a week, and she worked behind the counter about twenty hours a week in addition to cleaning a few houses. She baked at home to avoid being gone too much, because Ray still had some impulsivity issues from time to time. She didn’t know whether it was the lingering effects of having been struck by lightning as a child or simply a lack of maturity. Whatever the cause, she and Ray would get through this.

Josiah studied the upstairs windows and then looked at the small barn. It was more of a shed really, but it served as a barn for their horse.

She followed his gaze. “Something on your mind?”

“Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

She laughed. “You’re a really bad liar. The recipe was an excuse, wasn’t it?”

“I intended to bring it by this evening on my way home from work.” He shrugged. “But, ya, it was my excuse.”

“Why fib?”

“Trying to protect you from too much worry.” His lopsided grin let her know
that
was the truth.

Ah, so now they were getting down to the real issue. The way he was studying the house and barn, she wondered if someone from the town council had come to him with another request that they complete the painting of their home.

They would finish, but it was a huge task to paint a clapboard house. She’d discovered that the hard way. Preacher Glen had offered to get a group of barn raisers together this summer to help
Josiah, Michael, and Ray finish the job. But she hadn’t accepted, assuring him other Amish families had far more needs than her family did. The Amish didn’t accept government assistance of any kind, didn’t have standard insurance to cover health or property, and didn’t limit the number of children a couple had, so there was no shortage of Amish families in need.

She appreciated Glen’s offer. She’d known him all her life, she supposed, although her first real memory of him was attending his wedding when she was ten. She was also present six years later when he was chosen to be a preacher. He and his wife helped her navigate through the nightmare of losing her parents and Van.

In turn, Jolene was there for them when, a little more than two years ago, his wife’s body succumbed to what had begun as breast cancer. By the time his wife was diagnosed, the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes and bones. Within a few months she yielded to death, leaving him brokenhearted and with five of the cutest little boys Jolene had ever seen. Jolene was one of many women who’d cooked meals and helped take care of his children.

But one thing bothered her a little. Had Glen offered to get a work party together to paint her house because he wanted to spend time around her? She hoped not. As far as being well suited, they were capable of being good friends, but husband and wife? She couldn’t see that ever happening.

Before she could ask Josiah again what was on his mind, a horse trotted onto the driveway, pulling a wagon driven by Naomi. “Hey!” She was breathless and clearly in a hurry, so Jolene and Josiah strode to her.

Naomi gulped in air. “Lester’s in a tizzy. Apparently he called my
phone shanty four days ago and left me a message to come cook and clean. Something about his great-nephew from Apple Ridge and volunteers from the Humane Society coming … or are there now. He’d wanted breakfast, lunch, and dinner too, but I didn’t get the phone message. He sent his grandson David to my place to see why I wasn’t at his house. David said Lester is upset because men have been there since daylight, working. They’re already hungry, and I don’t have any food for them.”

Jolene held up a hand. “Naomi, breathe.”

Some of this panic could be considered Jolene’s fault. She and Naomi had worked for Lester for the last ten years, but Jolene didn’t have a phone. She felt that it, like a lot of things, was an expense they could live without. But that wasn’t the real reason she got rid of it. She’d had it removed because she couldn’t bear people calling here looking for her Mamm or Daed, especially newly pregnant women hoping Jolene’s Mamm would be their midwife. So they made do without a phone. Naomi and she had set days when they cleaned people’s homes, and if people needed to change the schedule, they would inform her or Naomi well in advance.

Since getting married, Naomi had access to a phone that she shared with several of her in-laws. The problem with multiple families in the vicinity sharing a phone was that messages didn’t always reach the intended party.

“I have dozens of fresh-baked pastries for this afternoon’s delivery to the bakery. We’ll use those and lots of coffee to take the edge off their hunger. Then we’ll make sandwiches and soup for lunch while we put roasts on for tonight. When we get through with all
that, we’ll make plans for tomorrow. I can drop everything and go right now. You?”