A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (37 page)

Simon popped up onto the couch and Mary rocked him in her arms, whispering endearments in Pennsylvania Dutch. In moments like this, she reminded Adam of their mamm.

Remy straightened and crossed the room to join Sadie and him. “Do you think the killer was a cop?”

“A bald cop,” Sadie corrected.

“Good thing Sheriff Hallinan has a full head of hair.” Adam watched his brother as he spoke, relieved to see Simon calming down. “I’ve always liked Hank.”

“And his deputies?” Curiosity lit Remy’s green eyes.

Sadie shrugged. “One is a woman, and she’s not bald.”

Adam ran through their faces in his mind. “The other deputy
is a young man just back from Iraq. Blaine Collins. He’s got a buzz cut, but plenty of hair.”

“So at least it’s not someone from the Halfway police.” Remy seemed to cling to every detail. “But there are probably county and state police who patrol this area, right?”

“Right.” Adam frowned. “But it’s not our place to stand here and play crime solvers. It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

As Adam went to douse the fire, Mary pointed out that Five would need to stay, too. Normally on a Saturday night a beau was permitted to stay until the early hours of morning, when he would return home. But with the heavy snowfall outside, it was best for Five to stay till sunrise.

“I would send him to the Doddy house, but I don’t want to disturb Mammi.” Adam raked back his hair. “There’s the daybed in the kitchen. Or he can bunk in the boys’ room upstairs.”

Mary’s smile brought genuine delight to her eyes, and Adam wanted to kick himself for not insisting she marry her beau last fall. His sister was obviously in love with Five, and they would make a good couple, but Mary was afraid to leave the family right now.

“Let’s get you up to bed again.” Adam lifted Simon into his arms, touched when the arms and legs of his precious cargo flopped down in total release. With a prayer that God would watch over this family always, he headed up the stairs.

Light spilled onto the desk, buttery light that illuminated the plans he’d been sketching. Once the snow cleared, it wouldn’t take long to transform the upstairs sewing room into a bathroom.

Once the snow cleared …

It would be any day now. He and Jonah had discussed the state
of the roads, in anticipation of the milk truck getting through. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday. Although it would be a while until they could travel by carriage, the sleigh would work on local roads, once the snow was packed down.

From the rocker in the corner, Simon lowered his book. “Can I see?” He hopped out of the chair and leaned close.

“It’s for the upstairs bathroom. I already measured it, so now the floor plan will give us an idea of exactly how much wood and flooring we need.” Simon nodded and returned to his book.

Adam sketched in the shower stall, glad for the relative quiet. It was a typical Monday evening, if you didn’t count Remy in the kitchen or the four-foot snow drifts outside their window. Over on the sofa, Gabriel read an old edition of
The Budget
, while Leah turned the page of her book. Jonah sat at the portable table mulling over a huge jigsaw puzzle. Out on the mud porch, Mary was supervising baths for the little ones. Occasional conversation drifted in from the kitchen, where the rest of the girls were baking a birthday cake for Sadie.

Turning eighteen on Wednesday. The prospect of his sister as an adult was daunting, especially knowing the way she’d been leaning lately.

Trust God, he told himself. Sadie had to find her own way to Him, much as it pained Adam.

Picking up the kitchen conversation, he listened as the girls explained something for Remy.

“When you want to be baptized, you tell the bishop and then start going for classes,” Ruthie said. “Eight or nine classes.”

“But it’s really serious,” Susie said gravely. “They keep asking you if you’re serious, and you have to say ‘I am a seeker desiring to be part of this church of God.’ ”

“Do you have to be born Amish to join the church?”

His pencil froze at Remy’s question.

“You don’t have to be Amish,” Sadie explained. “But I don’t think I’ve ever known our bishop to baptize an Englisher.”

“Really? You’d think more people would join.”

“Lots of Frank’s friends tell me they would love to streamline their lives and become Amish. Put their stress behind them. But most people don’t do much more than talk about it. When they try to change, they usually miss the freedom and nice things that Englishers have. I think the freedom they’re looking for, that’s something that happens on the inside. You can’t escape from life just by putting on a prayer kapp and giving up your car.”

Words of wisdom from his sister Sadie. At least she understood the bigger picture.

Not that Remy hadn’t gotten a taste of Amish life.

Nearly a week had passed since that first day when she came barreling into the cowshed wearing a nightgown and boots, eager to help. Since then Remy had always appeared fully dressed for morning milking, with her bubbly desire to help and learn.

She was one of the hardest-working Englishers he had ever met.

When the roads cleared, she would return to the city. And after that?

Trust in God
, he reminded himself as he sketched the tub area.
Trust in God
.

ook there. You can see the frog.” Simon pointed to the triangle in the center of Shadow’s hoof, pockets of V-shaped ridges that Remy had just cleaned. “When you see the frog, you know it’s clean.”

“I see the frog, but I don’t hear him. Oh, wait.
Ribbet. Ribbet.
” Remy looked up at the giggling Simon. “Made you laugh. Can we put his hoof down now?” She was amazed that he got these horses to lift their hooves and keep them up, but the boy did it. He was a capable stable master, even at the age of nine.

“Yes, but you have to pick out each hoof, every day. Or it can hurt them.”

“Got it.” Simon’s lessons on horse care were always filled with his thoughtfulness and concern for the horses. “Next hoof.”

Simon held Shadow’s other rear hoof so that Remy could pick mud and stones from the hollows. “How’s Shadow doing with the other horses?”

“Better. I think she’s making friends with Thunder.”

“Isn’t Thunder the lead horse? I thought Thunder was kind of mean.”

“He’s strict. But the other day I saw the two of them together in the paddock. They stood very close, head to head, and Thunder was nuzzling Shadow’s mane.” He brushed off the hoof with his glove and let the horse set it down. “Do you know what that means?”

“They’re getting to know each other?”

He nodded, pleasure gleaming in his eyes. “They’re friends now.”

“That’s terrific. And now that Shadow’s in with the leader, the other horses will think she’s way cool, right?”

He pulled off the gloves and moved to the horse’s side to stroke its withers. “Things are going to be better for Shadow. Dat would be happy to know that.”

“Maybe he knows. Maybe he can see us from heaven.”

“I don’t know, but that would be nice.”

“I wanted to ask you … you know, the last few nights when you’ve had those night terrors, you talked about a man. In your mind, it’s a man who did those terrible things. A man who killed your parents, not a bear.”

Simon’s lips curved. “Maybe I said that because it
was
a man.”

“Not a bear?”

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. “I used to see a bear. I wasn’t lying.”

She shook her head. “Nobody’s saying you were.”

“But now I think it was a man in a puffy coat. A dark shape, all round and furry, like a bear.”

“That makes sense.”

“And after I kept talking about the bear, I believed it. You see, if a bear kills people, you can’t get mad, because he’s a bear. He kills for his food. It’s called instinct.”

Remy swallowed hard, touched by his logic. “That’s right.”

“But people aren’t supposed to kill. It’s not their instinct.”

“And you convinced yourself it was a bear, because you just can’t imagine why a person would do something so wrong.”

When he nodded, tears dropped from his eyes.

“Oh, Simon, that makes a lot of sense.” She closed her arms around him and hugged him close. “I understand what you were thinking, and you’re right. People are not supposed to kill people.”

A shout from the door broke the tender quiet of the moment. “Simon?” Adam called through the stables. “Are you there?”

“Over here.” Remy rubbed the center of Simon’s back briskly. “You are a very brave boy. Really. You’re my hero.”

“No.” He stepped out of her arms and swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “God is what makes you brave.” Sniffing, he pressed one hand to his chest. “It’s the little bit of God’s strength inside you.”

“I need you to saddle up Thunder.” Adam’s open coat flew behind him as he jogged down the aisle.

“What’s wrong?” Simon was immediately alert.

“One of the cows didn’t come in for the milking—Clementine. I’m going to ride out and see if I can find her.”

Simon grabbed the tools they’d been using and headed down the aisle. “I’ll get him ready. Is Gabe going with you?”

“He and Jonah are needed for the milking. I’ll be fine.”

Remy patted Shadow, then stepped back. “I’m going with you.”

He shook his head. “It’s going to be—”

“There isn’t time to argue about it. I’m a skilled equestrian, and two sets of eyes are better than one.”

He hitched back his hat and frowned. “Fine. But get yourself a bonnet and gloves. The sun’s going down soon, and the temperature is dropping already.”

It was a different land they crossed this time. As a clear periwinkle sky began to close overhead, the red ball of sun shot mad swirls of color along the horizon.

Brilliant pink angel-hair clouds swept across a deep purple background in a composition that brought tears to Remy’s eyes. This land, these sparkling white hills and fields of pristine snow. God’s breathtaking creation had always been here at her fingertips, and she’d had no idea.

“It’s beautiful.” She shot a glance at Adam, a lean cowboy in black, his broad-brimmed fedora tipped against the setting sun.

“It is. In the years I was away, I kept telling myself that I was exaggerating the impact of this place on me. But it is God’s magnificent earth, and it does a man good to live close to it.”

In that moment Remy felt such a swell of love for this man that she had to turn away, afraid he would see everything revealed on her face.

“It stopped snowing,” she said, stating the obvious. This was the first time she’d seen the sun in more than a week, and it seemed to shine light on new possibilities even as it began to melt the snow that had bound them together all these days.

They rode in a splendid silence for a while. Urging her horse along, Remy considered the history of this land. How many generations had ridden the property’s perimeters, searching for lost cows or breaks in the fences?

When they reached the back end of the property, there was still no sign of the missing Clementine, but Remy spotted lights beyond a distant slope.