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Epilogue

“We are not put on this earth to see through one another, but to see one another through.”

L
AVINA
M
ILLER

Y
ears ago, back when Mose had been a willful teenager, he used to walk through the Millers' land to get to Schrock's Variety. Taking the narrow trail through the dense woods and across the rocky fields had been the shortest route by far.

Walking through the farm had also held a tiny bit of danger: Mr. Miller didn't care for trespassers.

And that, of course, had been one of the reasons Mose had always trespassed. Sometimes it was fun to do things he wasn't supposed to.

Now, as he walked in the midst of a procession across a neatly mowed field, he had a curious sense of déjà vu. Even though they'd been invited to come on the property, it still felt a little bit dangerous. After all, they were all walking toward a place that many wished never existed.

“I'm kind of surprised the Millers are doing this. From what I know of them, it seems out of character,” Luke said to him as they walked along.

As he glanced at the thicket of bushes to their right, framed by dark woods, Mose nodded. “I'm surprised, too, if you want to know the truth. But it's a fitting thing, I think. It's always a blessing to have something good come out of the bad.”

And boy, had they had their fair share of bad episodes here.

For the last six months, it had seemed like a cloud had fallen over their area. Drug peddling had been a real problem, and suspecting that one of their own had been a dealer had been a difficult thing to deal with. And to prove.

Then there was the sense of loss and confusion that had fallen over all of them when Perry had gone missing. It wasn't easy to admit out loud that you were happy a person was gone . . . so happy that you didn't care what had happened to him.

But none of that guilt lit a candle to the shock waves that had reverberated through the community when Perry's body was found in the well. Not only had the young man not been missed . . . but his body had been lying in wait among them for months. Just waiting for someone to discover.

Now, too many secrets had been revealed for even Mose to count. People's lives had been shuffled and ruined and changed. Other folks had grown and matured and become better.

Strange, that.

“Looks like Walker Anderson has decided his future,” Luke said as he pointed out Walker and Lydia Plank walking a few feet in front of them.

“Looks like it.” Walker was dressed in a deep blue shirt, black trousers, and a straw hat. He was dressed Amish, and the clothes suited him. Beside him, his girlfriend, Lydia, was wearing a green dress the color of the meadow they were walking in. They were a handsome pair.

Of course, Walker hadn't yet professed his faith in the church. He had at least a year of education before that. Most likely the bishop was currently walking him through his Pennsylvania Dutch and rules of the
Ordnung
first.

“I saw Lydia's folks at Mary King's the other day,” Luke said. “They're pleased as punch about their daughter's choice.”

“I bet. Walker's an upstanding man. Always has been.”

Walking on the other side of Luke was Frannie Eicher. She was currently chatting with her best friend, Beth Byler. And though Luke was talking with Mose and Frannie was chatting with Beth, Mose noticed that every few minutes Luke would look Frannie's way. Just like he was making sure she was still there.

Mose couldn't help but notice that Frannie had made a switch in her way of dressing, too. She was now dressing Mennonite. Mose privately thought the long–sleeved flowered dress made her auburn hair look right pretty. Of course the smile she often shot Luke's way was attractive, too.

Just to needle Luke a bit, he said, “Have you talked to Mr. Eicher recently?”

“He came over to Frannie's for dinner two nights ago.”

“And?”

“And he still doesn't have much to say to me.” Luke frowned. “You'd think by now he'd have warmed up at least a little bit. He's got to realize that I'd do just about anything for Frannie. I really love her.”

Ah, love. “Don't worry, Luke. He'll come around. It just takes time.”

“How long, do you reckon?”

“A couple of years. Maybe a bit more,” he quipped, though he was only half joking. John Paul Eicher was a standoffish man and always had been.

Luke chuckled low. “If he talks to me before I die, I'll consider it a good sign.”

There was one more couple Mose couldn't help but look out for as they continued the last few yards of their journey. Pointing at Jacob and Deborah Schrock, who were walking near the very front, Mose said, “Now there's a couple who don't seem to have any more hurdles to overcome. They married quickly, too.” Mose had heard through the area's gossip mill that Jacob and Deborah had asked their bishop to marry them in a quiet ceremony.

Luckily, both of their families hadn't objected to the short courtship. Now they were living behind Schrock's Variety. Jacob was running the store, Deborah by his side.

Luke shook his head slowly. “They are a good match, but I sure didn't seem that one coming. At first I thought they hated each other. Even Frannie said she was taken off guard. I guess Deborah and Jacob took everyone by surprise.”

Mose almost agreed, but he thought about Deborah's brother, Perry. For all his selfish ways, Perry had always seemed to know that Deborah and Jacob were meant to be together. More than once Perry had insinuated that he knew something about the two of them that no one else did.

Perhaps Perry had seen hope shining bright in a place where the rest of them had only seen darkness.

Now that was a fitting thought, Mose reflected as they all came to stop.

Gathering in a half circle, the group of thirty stood in front of Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Behind them was the well where Perry's body had been discovered, the rocks surrounding it where Abby Anderson had once been sitting, and the patch of ground where Jacob and Perry had fought.

Now the well had been filled with cement, securely closed for all time. A handsome plaque made of granite had been placed on the top of it. At the foot of the well were hundreds and hundreds of daffodils. Their bright yellow blooms, fluttering softly in the breeze among the bright green grasses, were beautiful.

“I'm glad you all could come out here today,” Mrs. Miller said when everyone around them quieted. “For the last few months, we have been trying to figure out what to do with this place.”

“At first, we thought we'd tear down the well and cover the rest of it up,” Mr. Miller said. “But that didn't seem right.”

His wife continued, her proud, thoughtful expression framed by her neatly parted black hair under a newly pressed white
kapp
. “We thought we ought to do something to remember this place. To honor it, not just attempt to forget about it.”

She cleared her throat. “Then I got to thinking about how God takes each of us by the hand and molds our bodies to his liking.” Looking out at the crowd, she met several peoples' gazes and nodded slightly. “In turn, God gives each of us special people in our lives to mold us, too. So, instead of trying to forget what we lost here, we thought perhaps we could try to remember everything that's been found.”

Mr. Miller took a step forward and raised his voice. “Here, we've renewed friendships, and discovered more about ourselves than we knew existed. We've found that we can be tougher than we thought and more compassionate than we dreamed possible. But perhaps we've found what's most important . . . that each of us can grow into something beautiful from the harshest of circumstances. And bloom.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Which is why Lavina had me plant all these daffodils.”

“Three hundred,” Mrs. Miller said with a smile.

After a pause, the crowd began to laugh. Then Mr. and Mrs. Borntrager clapped. Gloria Schrock joined in. Then Jacob and Deborah. And Lydia and Walker. And the rest.

Finally, they were all clapping together. For the moment, and for Perry, and for the future. For what had never been, and for what would always be.

There, in Crittenden County. On an outlying field on the Millers' farm—where, until recently, no one had ever been actually invited to walk on.

When the clapping stopped, little Becky Plank's voice rose high and pure. “Mrs. Miller, you never told us what the plaque says.”

“Indeed, you are right, child.” Lavina Miller smiled brightly. “It is only one word. But it's the right word, I think. Fitting.” After a pause, she continued. “It says ‘Hope'.”

Mose grinned. The Millers had chosen well.
Hope
was really all they had ever needed. For now. For the future.

Because, for a time, hope had been all they'd ever really had.