Sarah's Garden (28 page)

“
Ach
, Sarah, you’ve had a creative spirit lately. First the quilt, and now the egg; it’s beautiful.”

“
Danki
,
Mamm
. I think I’ve just discovered that there are many ways to have beauty with a purpose, not just my garden.”

“One day your own daughter will study your handiwork and you can tell her about today.”

Sarah didn’t respond as the image of a blonde-haired child with blue-gold eyes wavered in the back of her imagination. She pushed the thought aside and chose another pale white shell to paint, this time doing a rosebush in full bloom. By then, the spring sunshine had stretched to later afternoon, and Sarah ignored the constant pang of pain in her heart and listened with only half an ear as
Mamm
spoke as they sat at tea in the kitchen. Though, when she heard the words “Jacob Wyse” and “sledding outing,” she sat up straighter and took abrupt notice.

“What was that,
Mamm
?”

“I said, I told Mary Wyse that it would be fine if Jacob came over this afternoon to take you out to go sledding. You need the fresh air, and he ’s been working on a new cutter sled, so I hear.”

“
Mamm!
” Sarah raised her voice, which she never did with
Mamm
.

“There—now what is it that you’re shouting about? You need to get out. It’s only to the doctor’s greenhouse and chores that you’re in the air for. Normally I can’t keep you from your garden, not even in winter. Now it is spring, and here you just sit . . .”

Sarah groaned aloud. “
Mamm
, I don’t want to go sledding with Jacob Wyse or anyone else for that matter.”

Mamm
shrugged her shoulders. “I thought I was doing a good thing to arrange some fun for you, Sarah. That’s all.”

Sarah ground her teeth at
Mamm
’s downtrodden expression, but she knew that she would not disrespect her by cancelling the outing.

“One time. One time,
Mamm
, I’ll go sledding with Jacob Wyse, and then please let me to make my own outings.”

Mamm
beamed. Sarah knew she’d been got at, but it didn’t matter. She ’d just be firm with Jacob, and that would be the end of that.

At 2 p.m., a knock sounded on the kitchen door and Father opened it. Sarah stood, shifting her weight near the stove, bundled in her most unbecoming wraps, and gave a careless glance at the guest.

“Mr. King. Mrs. King. Miss King. Thank you for this afternoon. I hope it will be a pleasure.” The familiar deep voice was laced with a faint humor that caused Sarah’s ire to rise.

She nodded to Jacob and then spoke to
Mamm
. “We won’t be gone long. I’ll be back in time to help with supper.”

“
Ach
.” Father smiled. “Then young Jacob will join us perhaps?”

“It would be a pleasure, sir.”

“It seems that much would be a pleasure to you, Jacob, but I’m sure that you have other things to attend to than to have supper with us.”

“Sarah!”
Mamm
threw up her hands, but Jacob only laughed his normal laugh, a natural, happy sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside. He inclined his head to the Kings and followed Sarah out onto the cold porch. She was pulling on her mittens and barely glanced at the sleek cutter sled and fine horse that stood waiting. The horse tossed its bridle merrily but did nothing to improve her mood. He offered his arm to her as they descended the steps, but she declined with a toss of her head, then had to flail for support when she lost her footing on a patch of ice. He caught her and marched her to the passenger side of the sleigh, only to leave her to clamber in alone.

He spoke to the horse and they were flying down the lane before Sarah settled. She had to clutch at the side of the cutter or else balance herself against him in order not to fall over.

“A little slower, please,” she gasped when they went up and down a slight hill, which sent her stomach into her throat.

He spoke again to the horse and it dropped its gait.

“If it makes you feel any better, Sarah King, it was only to please
Mamm
that I came today. Believe me, the thought of taking a girl who’s in love with someone else out for a ride is not my idea of fun.”

“He’s gone,” she said blankly.

“So I’ve heard, but I doubt that’s dimmed the fire in your heart any. You’ve got the loyalty of a Labrador.”

“Thank you. I’ve never quite been compared to a dog before.”

“When the coat fits . . .”

She glanced at him, furious that he managed to irritate her.

He grinned, a flash of white teeth and something quick like lightning, and she recognized his teasing. A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“I think you’re a nasty boy, Jacob Wyse, just like you’ve always been.”

“And I think you’re beautiful, Sarah King, just like you’ve always been.”

She could not hide the pain that crossed her face, and he was quick to notice. “Sarah—I know you miss him. I know he ripped your heart out. I’d like to put my hands on him just for that alone. I can tell how badly you’re hurt.”

Nee
. . . ,” she denied, her thoughts far away. “

“I know what it’s like to lose someone,” Jacob spoke quietly, and she turned back to him.

“I haven’t lost—” Then she stopped. Why bother to lie to him? Or to anyone for that matter? “That’s not true.”

He nodded. “For me, there was this girl . . . I watched her grow up, from a skinny, dirt-loving shrew to my best friend. It broke my heart when I finally accepted that she was gone.”

Sarah felt a rush of pity at his tone and stared at the dancing mane of the horse.

“You were too good for her. Will you please forget her?” she asked, laying a hand on his sleeve.

He smiled again. “Will you let me have dinner at your house tonight?”

They both laughed and the ride held a hint of fun for Sarah.

S
arah eyed Jacob covertly when he ’d taken off his hat and scarf to wash at the basin before dinner. His rich chestnut hair with its faint hints of dark blond was attractive, she had to admit. But of course, she ’d always known that he was attractive, charming, and strong—and Amish. Her mouth twisted at the last thought, but it made him right in so many ways. He glanced up and caught her studying him, and she gave him a sour look to which he replied with a smile.

“Look all you want,” he whispered as he passed her to play a game of checkers with Father while she went to help
Mamm
prepare the meal.

She felt irritated with herself that she even cared what he looked like, but they’d had a good outing that afternoon, and she was so lonesome of late for someone to talk to. Or maybe not, she thought, considering how
Mamm
was beaming at her.

“Was the ride
gut
, Sarah?”
Mamm
asked under cover of the soup kettle lid.

Sarah sighed as she diced fresh herbs from the window box to add to the rich potato soup. “The weather was nice,
Mamm
.”

“
Ach
, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Sarah concentrated on stirring the herbs into the soup, giving an ear to the conversation Father and Jacob were having.

“How goes your way with horses, Son? Has business been good?”

“
Jah
, sir. I’ve just had two buyers up from Philadelphia and one who flew down from Boston.”

“Still, a difficult occupation—the breeding and all,” Father remarked, losing his checkers fast.

“
Ach
, but I’ve grown into a patient man, sir,” Jacob returned, then looked directly at Sarah, who once again was caught observing him.

She wasn’t so much interested in Jacob as a man, she considered while they ate, but in the fact that she compared him in every way to the doctor. Was Grant then to be the full measure of a man as far as she was concerned? It seemed a futile pursuit considering his likely permanent absence from her life. She flicked the tea towel as she finished the dishes after they’d eaten, then folded it. She did not want to be held by a memory, but there was something within her that refused to believe Grant was gone forever. Yet could she live on the whim of something that she might just be creating out of her own wants? She sighed and moved to watch the resumed checkers game.

Father lost, which meant that he favored Jacob, since he only lost on purpose after years of playing. Jacob looked pleased, and Sarah felt restless. She rose when the last king was crowned. “I’m going out for a bit,” she announced. “Thank you for this afternoon, Jacob.”

Mamm
and Father stared at her as she bundled on her wraps.

“It’s dark, my daughter,” Father spoke the obvious. “Where are you going at this hour?”

“
Ach
, to my gardening. I didn’t have time today.” She glanced at Jacob.

“I’ll come along,” he declared. “I wouldn’t want you to have a fall trying to dig up an iced turnip or something.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

“Sarah!”
Mamm
exclaimed.

“Fine then . . . come along.” Sarah stomped to the front door and went out onto the porch, trying to ignore the murmur of voices from inside. Jacob stepped out a few seconds later, his black coat half on, his scarf hanging past his waist.

“You’ll catch your death of cold,” she informed him and made for the kitchen garden gate, which was visible only by the fitful light of the winter moon.

“Then all your problems would be over, it seems.” He returned genially, following her along in the half dark.

She marched up and down the dead rows of plants, loving to imagine them full and blossoming once more. She’d read somewhere that “a garden was God’s promise that winter would end,” and she took this to heart. She was halfway to the naked apple trees when she turned back to find him behind her. He ran into her, setting her straight on her feet when she slipped from the impact of his solid form.

“If I didn’t know that you can see every future tomato and leek in that pretty little head of yours, I’d say that you were mad to be out here. But it does something for your soul, doesn’t it, Sarah King? To see things as they will be, as they might be, instead of the way they truly are?”

He blew on his ungloved hands and rocked back and forth, waiting for her response.

“The heart sees what it likes,” she said, her pale face lifted in profile to the light of the moon.

“
Ach
, and that’s the truth, isn’t it?”

He reached out a hand to tug the shawl from her head, and she gasped at the sudden blast of cold air in her ears.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, trying to adjust her wrap.

“Letting you feel the cold. It might do you some good to feel the moment, because that’s all we truly have. All you truly have is a dead garden at this moment, not sleeping, not waiting, dead.”

She turned her back on him and crunched through the snow to the nearest apple tree. “Where is your faith, then, Jacob Wyse?”

She heard him step up behind her. “Stop looking at the tree. Look at me.”

She whirled then, angrier than she could ever remember feeling, and not exactly sure of the reason.

“Why?
Jah
, because you’re more alive right now to me than he is? Well, you’re wrong. You have no idea what it’s like to be in love, to love—you’re selfish and arrogant and mean! That’s what . . . and I don’t have to spend any more time with you to know that to be true! You deserve to be alone . . . I deserve . . .” She broke off, sobbing, her breath coming in gusty puffs as she realized what she ’d said to her friend.

She sank to her knees in the snow and laid her face in her hands, crying deeply. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Jacob! I don’t know what to say . . . I don’t know anything anymore.” She sobbed, and he dropped to his knees in front of her and enfolded her in his warm arms.

“Shh . . . Sarah . . .’tis all right. You didn’t hurt me; it’s you who’s hurt. Shh . . .” He rocked her from side to side, then drew her to her feet next to him. “Come, you’re all worked up. You need to go back inside. I was wrong to push you so; I don’t know why I did it.”

“Because I deserved it,” she said in a muffled voice.

He caught her by the shoulders and shook her then. “Listen. Listen to me. You asked me where my faith was—well, here it is. In what I can feel, what I can know, what’s now. And God knows from His throne in heaven that people were made to love one another, that love is something active and alive and now . . . not later. You deserve love, Sarah King. That’s what you deserve—and never, ever forget it.”

He helped her onto the porch and knocked on the door.
Mamm
came.

“What’s wrong with her? Her skirts are soaked!”

“She had a bit of a spill in the snow. I believe she needs a good night’s rest. Thank you for the day, Mrs. King, Miss King.”

Sarah watched him leave and jump into the cutter. With a word to the horse, he was off, bells ringing in the night air. She started to sob again and fell against
Mamm
’s neck.
Mamm
held her worriedly in the doorway.

“Ephraim?” Sarah heard her call. “I think Sarah’s ill. Help me take her up the stairs.”

Sarah gave in to the idea that maybe she was ill and spent the next week in bed. She did indeed catch a bad cold, and the midwife had to come by to give her a poultice and some medicine. When she had fever dreams, they were all of Grant, but riddled somehow by Jacob’s mocking words and the idea that “love is now.” Finally, on the seventh day,
Mamm
sat beside her bed far into the night and read from the Psalms, and Sarah found the first true rest that she ’d had in months.

W
hen she was well enough to be up and about, she asked Luke to drive her to the greenhouse. She could only imagine the state of affairs since the plants had gone without watering for well over a week and a half.

“Well, you’re wrong there,” Luke said with a smile. “I’ve kept up with them every day.”

She felt for the key around her neck and he handed it to her. “
Mamm
gave it to me; I hope it was okay.”

She gave him a quick hug, and he shied away. “All right, all right. Let’s take a ride over there; you look too pale.”