Love’s Journey Home (15 page)

His voice trailed away. He looked at Bishop Kelp, who inclined his head. Moving as
if chased by a rattler, the boy hopped up and dashed down the aisle that divided the
men from the women. He didn’t look at Helen as he passed her. She knew he would sit
with Tobias, Peter, and Thaddeus. They would talk with him, give him guidance. All
three had taken the time to tell her so during the days they’d spent repairing the
house. She’d seen a bit of guilt written across each one’s face. As surely they saw
it in hers.

“See to it each of you searches your heart to make sure you harbor nothing there that
would lead you in the way that Edmond went. Those of you who are of the age for rumspringa,
you know that doesn’t give you an excuse to embrace evil, to endanger others, to flaunt
your running around in our faces. If that’s what you want to do, make your choice.
Leave your faith. Or embrace it. Learn of the outside world, if you must, but don’t
let it consume you to the point that there is no way to return. Mothers and fathers,
counsel your children. Teach them to walk in our ways.” The bishop wiped sweat from
his face with a brilliant white handkerchief. He glanced toward the open doors as
if hoping for a whisper of a breeze. None came. “We all falter. We all fail. We all
make mistakes. That is why we are told to forgive. Not once. Not seven times. But
seventy times seven. So that is what we will do. We will forgive Edmond. And move
on. Showing him the grace that God shows us.”

As the weight rolled from her shoulders, Helen closed her eyes again. All would be
forgiven. Edmond remained on probation as part of his plea agreement hammered out
by a city attorney and Micah Kelp. He still had to do many hours of community service.
He still had to pay back the money for the bond. She still had to keep an eagle eye
on her son so that he would not falter again. He could not be allowed to falter.

An elbow nudged her and she realized the final prayers were being spoken. She rolled
off the bench and knelt, head down.

God. God
. Words escaped her. The rest she left up to Deacon Altman, whose prayers enveloped
her, his deep voice offering the comfort that surely he would be heard.

Then the service ended. She should go to Edmond. She murmured an excuse to Annie and
slipped down the aisle. She should help with the food, but first she wanted to make
sure her son was all right. Besides, the thought of facing all those women chattering
like the blue jays made her shudder. She needed a few minutes to shore up her courage.
She ducked through the tall men who seemed to fence her in, seeking Edmond. Eli and
some of the other boys had him surrounded. He looked fine. He looked relieved. He
even looked a little pleased with himself. Chagrined at the thought, Helen quickened
her pace. She supposed the other boys would look up to him for his escapade. Exactly
what none of the parents wanted.

Before she could reach him, Josiah Shirack stepped into the circle. The other boys
parted and a second later, Josiah and Edmond disappeared through the doors on the
other end. Helen breathed a sigh of relief and waded through the crowd toward the
open doors. Sweat drenched her dress under her apron. Her hair felt wet to the touch
around her ears. Light-headed, she pushed forward, wanting to get away from the crush
of people. A tall glass of cool water. That would help.

Someone called her name. She didn’t stop. If she did, she might crumple in a faint.
She stumbled across the rock-strewn ground, rounded the corner, and started across
the field behind the barn. A nice shade tree. That would do.

“The house is the other direction.”

The voice stopped her in her tracks. Deep, rough-hewn, with a touch of honey. She
lifted her head to see Gabriel Gless standing with one dusty boot on the fence, both
elbows propped along the top railing. Sweat darkened the back of his shirt. His sleeves
were rolled up to his elbows. His gaze seemed to see everything about her. Guilt,
shame, insecurity, uncertainty, loneliness, helplessness. Nowhere in his stony façade
could she see an inkling of how he reacted to all this. There was none of the soft
sadness she’d seen that day as she labored over the cut on his hand.

“Getting some air.” She lifted her chin, knowing the same red splotches that covered
Edmond’s face earlier now overtook her own. “It was stuffy in there.”

“Can be uncomfortable.” He shoved his hat back on his head and rolled down his shirtsleeves.
“More for some than others.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She backed away. She shouldn’t be out here, anyway.
She belonged in the kitchen, preparing the trays of sandwiches, chips, pies, and cookies,
gallons of tea and lemonade. Only the thought of facing all the women of her community—all
better mothers than she—kept her from fleeing. “I felt fine in there.”

His gaze studied her in a way that disconcerted her. “Lying is a sin.”

“So is judging.”

He moved in her direction. “It’s probably cooler down by the creek.”

“True. There’s more of a breeze along the banks.” What that had to do with her, Helen
had no idea. “After the rain the mosquitoes will be bad, though.”

“Mosquitoes don’t like me.” He gave her a lopsided grin. It was a poor excuse for
a smile. Not like her joking George. But then, to be fair, George hadn’t lost his
wife. “My meat is tough and bitter.”

“I expect mine is the same.” That seemed to amuse him a little. Helen tried again.
“Old too.”

“I doubt that.”

Their gazes met and for the first time, Helen realized there was something expectant,
yet tentative, about his expression. She swayed a little. A night of restless wandering
through the house combined with nightmares during the scant hours she managed to sleep
had left her drained and exhausted.

“Are you all right?” He moved a little closer. “You look…kind of peaked.”

“Fine.”

“Jah, you said that before.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“If it were my son, I’d be in a sorry state.”

“I’m not you.”

“No doubt about that.” He lifted his hat and settled it on his head. “I guess I’ll
take that walk down to the creek.”

Again the expectant mixed with the tentative.

“Yell if the mosquitoes try to carry you away. I’ll send my brothers to rescue you.”

To her surprise, his expression darkened rather than reflecting the intended humor
of her remark.

“You wouldn’t come yourself?”

The question left her speechless for several seconds. Their gazes held. Finally, he
touched the brim of his hat and nodded. “You’d best help with the food, I reckon.”

He turned his back and began the trek across the field toward the tree line that signaled
the spot where Bliss Creek meandered through the Shiracks’ property. Helen couldn’t
for the life of her understand what had just happened. She dabbed at her sore nose
with the handkerchief, coughed, and then sneezed.

He looked back. “On second thought, best leave the food to others or everyone will
have that cold.”

“You have knowledge of these things, illnesses, and such?”

“No, I have eight children.”

“Jah.”

He kept walking.

She had to say something. Why, she couldn’t fathom. “Gabriel.”

His name sounded funny on her lips. Such a beautiful name for such a prickly man.

“Jah.” He kept walking.

“Sometime…if you…if you ever want company…on the walk, I mean…some other time, I mean,
I have to help in the kitchen and like you said, I have a cold….”

He stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. His hand went to his hat and lifted it
from his head, then settled it back.

An answer of sorts, she supposed. An acknowledgment. But not a promise. Not even an
assurance. She watched, despite her best intention to turn away, until he reached
the trees. He had such a long stride. Measured. Unhurried. Lonely.

Voices tinged with laughter told her the moment had fled. Sure enough, a bunch of
the boys rounded the corner, volleyballs flying, the net dragging behind.

“Mudder!” Edmond trotted toward her. “Mudder, I did all right, didn’t I? Josiah said
I did fine.”

“That you did, son.”

“You forgive me?” He ducked his head, his cheeks red once again. The other youngsters
flooded past him, oblivious to his embarrassment. “I mean, I know I still have work
to do. Josiah says he’ll help me—”

“I forgive you.”

“Okay.”

“Go play volleyball. Have fun.”

“Okay.” He seemed to search her face for something. “You sure?”

“Go play, son.”

He grabbed the end of the net that dragged behind one of the Glick boys and ran on.

Helen left them to their fun, still pondering her exchange with Gabriel. She couldn’t
be sure, but it very well could be that she would come to regret something about it.
She couldn’t be sure what.

A
nnie dropped the cookie tray on the potholders she’d spread across the bakery counter
and sucked at a fingertip that had strayed too close to the hot tray. She glanced
across the room at the spot where her sister Emma sat near the front window, watching
Helen arrange jam and jelly jars on a display shelf. Having both women arrive for
a visit this morning seemed like a gift from God. Emma had been sick the previous
day and unable to attend the prayer service. Helen had been enveloped in Edmond’s
situation, leaving Annie about to burst with her restrained fear and anxiety. “Thomas
walked in and said you might have to sell the farm? No talking about it first.”

“There’s no talking about it. You know that. Micah will decide, and we’ll do whatever
he says.” Emma sipped from her glass of tea and set it down with a clink. “Thomas
feels as bad about it as I do. Maybe worse. He’s farmed that land his whole life.
He never says much, but when he suggested Rebecca and the twins watch Caleb while
I come into town for a visit, I knew what he was thinking. It’s his way of showing
me he knows.”

She lifted her glass of tea to her lips, then returned it to the table without sipping.
“If we can find something else in this area, we’re fine. If not, Thomas can take a
job in town or we can move, maybe start a new district. They’ve been talking about
doing that anyway, with ours having grown so much.”

How her sister could be so matter-of-fact, Annie couldn’t imagine. She wanted to howl
at the news when Luke had returned to the house after the meeting. Stomp her feet
and throw a fit like a child. Of course, she hadn’t. The exhausted look on her brother’s
face kept her from saying much at all. Best to keep her thoughts to herself. In the
days since he’d not mentioned the situation again. She’d thought baking would soothe
her rebellious heart. Instead she only seethed more. The more she baked, the more
she thought.

This morning, after snapping at Mary Elizabeth over something silly, she’d sent the
girl on an early, extended lunch. Fortunately, Mark left to make deliveries so he
didn’t have to bear the brunt of his sister’s bad mood. Emma’s arrival, followed immediately
by Helen’s, couldn’t have been better timed. A chance to speak her mind to two women
who would undoubtedly do the same—since none of them would think of doing it at home.
What if Emma and Thomas couldn’t find anything nearby? Annie couldn’t lose another
sister. She needed them close. She wanted to be there to help with the new baby and
to see Caleb grow up. And what about Mary and Lillie? They were her sisters too, after
all, and there wasn’t enough room at the Shirack house to move them home.

Unfortunately, Emma didn’t seem to have any answers either.

“Tobias says there’s a two-hundred acre spread for sale out near Wakefield.” Helen
grabbed two more jars of strawberry preserves from her box and added them to the display
shelf. She smoothed the handwritten label on one. “He says we should consider starting
a new settlement there.”

“That’s a two-hour drive by car.” Annie caught the querulous tone in her voice and
tried to calm herself. No need to make Emma feel worse. “The bishop didn’t say anything
about starting a new settlement. Luke would’ve mentioned that. He said they needed
to sell the farm and find something new. Or start a new business. He mentioned working
with Gabriel, didn’t he?”

“Deacon Pierce did.” Emma’s expression grew more pained. “But you know Thomas. He’s
a farmer, through and through. He’s not one to be in town much. Only for supplies
and sales. It would be…”

She seemed at a loss for words to even describe the effect such a change would have
on her husband. To leave behind working the earth with his hands. To know Thomas was
to know this would be a travesty.

“Thomas will do what he has to do.” She grimaced and rubbed her belly. “He understands
what’s at stake.”

“Can’t you leave the oil, pretend it’s not there?” The words sounded silly to Annie
the minute they came out of her mouth. She gathered the ingredients for a red velvet
cake. Better she did something she knew how to do. “Not pretend, but leave it alone.”

“Already John Slocum, the Englisch man who sells the houses here in town—the real
estate agent—came out and talked to Thomas. He says he’ll take the farm off our hands.
That’s what he called it, taking it off our hands.” Emma’s smile had a bitter tinge
to it. “He says we’ll receive lots of offers, and it’ll be a nuisance so why don’t
we sell it to him and let him worry about it. Thomas said he would talk to the bishop
about it. That’s what he says about everything. We’ll talk to the bishop. Mr. Slocum
also said the other thing we could do is keep the farm and let one of the oil companies
pay us for the oil rights.”