Hopeful (16 page)

Then she shook her head. “We’ve already talked. You’ve apologized. I have accepted your apology. You can now go back to your sisters or to your friends or whoever and feel good about yourself.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

Her voice turned strained. “Junior, I’m simply trying to say that you don’t owe me anything. Can’t we leave it at that?”

“
Nee
. Miriam, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I didn’t think you were pretty. I certainly didn’t mean it.”

“Can this not be about you?”

Ouch. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that I made a mistake, I feel badly about it, and I want us to get back to how we were.”

“Junior—”

“Please? I know I’m an idiot. But I’m not all bad. All I know is that I don’t want there to be any tension between us.”

Miriam sighed. Watched him squirm under her gaze.

“Junior, how about this? How about we simply forget that conversation ever happened? I think that would be easiest for both of us.”

“Do you think that’s possible?”

“Of course it is possible,” she said. “Actually, I doubt I’ll ever think about it again. Now, I really do have to go. Good-bye, Junior. And good day.”

As he stood there, trying to discern what she really meant, she opened the door and walked inside her house. All without a backward glance his way.

The rejection hurt. Feeling like he’d just run a marathon only to trip two feet from the finish line, he slowly walked back home.

Today was the first time Miriam Zehr hadn’t looked at him with stars in her eyes. It was the first time he hadn’t been able to smile at her and get one in return.

Instead, she’d treated him as if he wasn’t anyone special to her.

His footsteps slowed as he realized he’d just lost something really important. But the worst of it was that for most of his life, he hadn’t even realized what he’d had.

“Good-bye, Scholars,” Mary Kate said as she stood at the door to the schoolhouse watching her students file out the door promptly at three o’clock. “We had a
gut
day today. Get some sleep and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Bye, Teacher,” little Emma said, followed by another two girls. “See you tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” she said with a smile. “See you then.”

When the very last of her students left and she was completely alone, she sagged in the privacy of the doorway.

At last. Another day was over.

Some days, it seemed like it took everything she had to make it through to three o’clock with a smile on her face.

Though she wished it wasn’t so, Mary Kate knew she wasn’t a very good teacher. She didn’t have the knack to organize twenty students at once. She became easily frustrated, too.

And then there was the added knowledge that she never seemed able to completely relax. Some evenings, she felt so stiff and sore, only the hottest and lengthiest of showers helped ease her stiff muscles.

But of course, much of her stress had nothing to do with her job. Instead, it had everything to do with Will. No matter how hard she tried to think of other things, he always lingered in the back of her mind. She worried about him discovering her. Worried that he would still be lurking in the periphery of her existence for years to come. Worried that she would never be entirely free of him.

Just as she got herself worked up again, her favorite verse from the Psalms drifted into her mind.

The righteous person faces many troubles, but the Lord comes to the rescue each time.

The words were true and settled her like little else did. Yes, that was what she needed to remember. To pray about. If only she could remind herself that the Lord would always come to her rescue, no matter how difficult the situation, she could finally breathe easier.

Perhaps she could be herself once again. At last.

“There’s nothing you can do, Mary Kate,” she reminded herself. “All you can do is grade some papers and plan for tomorrow. And hope that one day soon you will be proud of yourself.”

She’d just turned away from the doorway when a shadow appeared to her right. Anxious, she scanned the area. Gazed out beyond the wide sloping hill, searched the dense woods just beyond.

But she didn’t see anything. Only felt the vague sense of unease.

“Hello?” she called out. As her voice echoed through the emptiness, she felt a bit silly. After all, if someone was out there who did not want to be seen, would they truly answer back?

The seconds seemed to pass like minutes as she waited in vain. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her unease was turning into full-fledged fright.

“You have got to get a hold of yourself, Mary Kate,” she cautioned herself yet again. “You are letting your imagination run away with you.” Almost believing her words, she turned around. Determined to get her work done and then head home.

A twig snapped.

She froze as goose bumps appeared on her arms. Was that her imagination? Her fear talking?

Or had Will found her?

She was tempted to call out his name, tempted to call out anything. But she feared if she did give voice to her greatest fear it would make it all seem a lot more real.

Instead, she stood frozen. Half waiting, half watching for the last person on earth she wanted to see step out of the shadows.

Then she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on gravel on the side of the yard. Whoever had been there was walking away.

It took everything she had to dart inside and run to the bank of windows. Part of her didn’t want to see the evidence. It would be so much easier to call herself a silly fool and pretend that nothing was wrong.

But she’d done that before and had learned that it came with a heavy price.

Stepping closer, she peered out the windows. At first she saw nothing, and she breathed easier.

But then she saw a footprint in the damp ground next to the building. Someone had been there. And he had intentionally not answered her. He’d wanted her to be scared, to feel helpless. To wonder what was going to happen next.

Which gave her all the information she needed. Will Lott had come to Sugarcreek, and sooner or later, he would make sure he didn’t leave alone.

I
’m so glad you and Ben decided to come over for a spell, Judith,” her mother said as they finished hemming a new dress for Clara, cousin Tim’s wife. “I miss spending time with you.”

“I am glad we came too,” Judith replied. “Ben and I have enjoyed being here. You know how much Ben loves being around the family.”

Her mother chuckled. “I hope he will say the same when you two go back home. Maggie is at his side at every meal, and Anson has been constantly on his heels, asking question after question.”

Judith grinned, liking the way her mother described her brother’s determined shadowing. She loved seeing Ben interact with the kids. “Ben adores little Maggie. She can do no wrong in his eyes. As for Anson? Don’t tell anyone, but I think Ben kind of likes Anson’s hero worship.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. Ben’s never had a brother, of course, and Anson is easy to be with.”

“He sure is patient with him. Only Ben would allow Anson to help him stack wood.”

“No, only Ben could convince Anson to spend three hours cutting wood, bringing it home, and stacking it.” Judith shook her head. “I don’t know how many times Josh and Caleb have tried to get Anson to do more work around the farm.”

“Ben certainly has a way with that boy.” Her mother’s gaze turned softer. “Did you know Ben helped Maggie bake cookies yesterday?”

“I did. Because of his difficult family situation growing up, I think Ben sometimes feels he’s not good enough. But little Maggie always reminds him that he’s special to her. He’s told me before that Maggie makes him feel like he’s the brightest and tallest person in the room. She’s really good for him.”

Her siblings had been good for her, too, Judith reflected. At home, there was always commotion and hungry mouths to feed and arguments and laughter. And projects! “Sewing this dress for Clara has done me a world of good.”

She held up the dress and pictured how pretty Clara would look in it. The fabric was a lighter shade of blue, almost a periwinkle. It looked fresh and bright—a perfect foil for the upcoming dreary months of winter.

“Hopefully it will brighten Clara’s day, too. The good Lord knows she needs a little ray of sunshine.”

Clara and Tim’s twin girls were just getting over a terrible case of the chicken pox. For almost two weeks Clara had made oatmeal baths, cuddled crying and itchy children, read an insurmountable number of picture books, and heated jars and jars of soup that they’d canned last summer.

Now the girls were happy and almost healed. Just about back to normal. But Clara? She was exhausted.

Now, her mother, Josh’s wife, Gretta, and Caleb’s new bride, Rebecca, had decided to take Clara out for a girls’ getaway the following weekend. They’d gotten a deal on one of the tourist cabins out in Charm and were going to take Clara there for a good dose of shopping and eating. Judith had been invited, too, but she’d declined the invitation. She wasn’t quite ready to be away from Ben for an extended period of time.

To no one’s surprise, Clara’s husband, Tim, had thought this was a wonderful idea for his sweet wife. Once the travel arrangements had been made, Judith had mentioned that Clara would probably like a new dress for her day and evening out, too. Clara never did anything for herself.

In just an hour, Tim was going to stop by with Clara for supper, as were Caleb and Rebecca. They’d have a simple supper of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and corn, followed by a chocolate cream pie. Then they were going to spring the trip on Clara.

Judith couldn’t wait to see surprise light Clara’s eyes—and happiness fill Tim’s gaze as he watched her. It was such a pleasure to concentrate on other people for a change. She was so tired of being depressed and concentrating on her heartache. Though she understood that a period of mourning was only natural, she also realized that it was time to move forward. The Lord had a plan for each of them and it would be wrong of her to dwell on her disappointments for too long.

As her
mamm
touched the just finished hem of Clara’s new dress, she said, “Clara is going to love this. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind about going with us to the cabin? Going on a girls’ weekend might be good medicine for you, too.”

“I’m sure. Being here has been enough of a vacation for me.” Plus, her emotions were so topsy-turvy, she wasn’t eager to be far from Ben. She knew she needed his hugs as often as possible.

“I’m so proud of you, Judith,” her mother said, obviously choosing her words carefully. “I know your recovery hasn’t been easy, but you do seem to have a bit of your spark back.”

“I think it’s coming back, too. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s getting better.” She was done dwelling on her disappointment, at least with her family and friends. She was sure no one wanted to hear any more stories about how sad she was day after day. Everyone else had moved on. The only thing she’d gain by wallowing in her grief was more hours to sit alone by herself.

“I’m not sure why the Lord has decided that Ben and I can’t have a baby, but I do feel certain that Got will lead me and show me His will.”

“Those are wise words. And true,” her mother murmured as Ben came into the kitchen, followed by Anson.

While Ben walked to her side and gently squeezed her shoulder, offering his quiet support, Anson breezed by without a word.

Their mother frowned. “Anson, say hello to your sister.”

He skidded to a stop. “Hi, Judith.”

“Anson.” Sharing a smile with her mother, she said, “What have you and Ben been doing all afternoon?”

“Manly things.”

“Oh?” She peeked up at Ben, wondering what “manly things” entailed.

He rolled his eyes and clamped a hand on Anson’s shoulder. “Nothing too important. We took a long walk and checked on the creek.”

Anson nodded. “I told Ben all about how Ty and me almost drowned there a couple of years ago.”

That awful day would always remain vivid in her memory. Sharing a look with her mother, she murmured, “That was quite an afternoon, indeed.”

“Anyway,” Anson said airily, “I’m getting something to eat now. I’m starving.”

“Starving, hmm?” She couldn’t help but grin. Her brother had been born hungry and very little got in between him and his food. Now that he was on the cusp of his teenage years, he seemed to be storing as much food as possible in his body for later use.

“Anson, we’ll be eating in just an hour,” their mother cautioned. “And I know you had something to eat just a few hours ago.”

“Mamm, that was two hours ago.”

Judith, to her surprise, found herself grinning. Anson said “two hours” the way some people said two years.

But her mother, at least, didn’t seem too understanding. “I don’t want you to spoil your supper.”

He gave her a look that silently conveyed she was sillier than ever. “I’ll still be hungry then, Mamm.”

“Anson—”

“He’ll eat, Mamm,” Ben said with a wink. “He always does.”

Her mother’s cheeks pinkened the way they always did whenever her son-in-law called her “Mamm.” Judith knew Ben’s use of that name hadn’t come easy . . . and it was also said with complete sincerity.

“Do you really think so?” her mother pressed. “Neither Caleb nor Joshua ever ate like Anson.”

“I’m more than sure,” Ben agreed. “This boy of yours is always hungry. I only brought him in here so he wouldn’t start eating the hay in the barn.”

Judith smiled at her husband as Anson filled up a large glass with milk and drank it in two gulps, grabbed a couple of apples, and one of the rolls on the countertop. Next he pocketed several peanut butter cookies.

Then, without another word, he gathered up his bounty and strode out the back door, the screen door creaking shut after him.

Her
mamm
rested her head against the back of her chair. “That boy is going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t be too hard on him. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying
gut
food,” Ben quipped. “You’re
wonderful-gut
cook, Mamm.”