The Amish Clockmaker (53 page)

I've been very sad about having to get rid of the Englisch treasures you saw in the hayloft, and I can't promise such a thing won't happen again. If other beautiful items come my way in the future, I know I'll be tempted to hang on to them. But I also know that it's wrong of me, especially because then I'm forced to hide them from you. I promise I am working to conquer this longing to have what is not mine to have. I pray for strength, and though God has not delivered me from my love of worldly possessions, He has blessed me in other ways tenfold.

You are my biggest blessing.

You are the best man I know.

You always have been.

It is because you are this good man that I must ask something very hard of you. If anything should happen to me during childbirth, would you please raise up the infant yourself to be the kind of person you are? If God takes me, my parents will think you will not want this baby, but I know that if I ask this of
you, you will do it out of that love for me that has me speechless before you.

Just a little while ago you caught me with this letter, and even though I have given you reasons not to trust me in the past, you have given me your trust anyway. Every time you do something such as that, my heart grows closer to yours and my soul understands more than ever before what true love really looks like.

I am trying, Clayton. Someday, I will be the wife you deserve, I promise.

Miriam

When I was finished reading, I looked over at Clayton and saw that he was leaning forward, his eyes closed, his elbows on his knees. Gnarled hands cradled his ancient face. It seemed such a private moment that I was witnessing and yet I could not bring myself to step away and leave the old man alone.

For the last sixty years, Clayton Raber had quietly maintained his integrity, his identity, and the love he had for his wife in the only way he thought he could. In near solitude. For the last sixty years, he had thought he alone had been the one to love. Now he knew the truth.

Miriam had loved him in return.

Clayton was quiet for most of the drive into town and back again, though he managed to put on a friendly enough face for the notary public. After a week of my running around like crazy, all it had taken in the end to settle the entire property dispute was the quick signing of a name followed by the notary's signature and seal. As I paid the woman and she handed the now-official quitclaim deed back to me, I put my hand on Clayton's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. There were no adequate words to describe my gratitude for what he had just done.

We didn't say a lot on the ride back, but it wasn't an awkward silence. He and I had already shared so much in this day that in a sense we'd gone from strangers to the closest of friends in the space of just a few hours. That thought shouldn't have surprised me, I supposed, as I had felt a bond with him ever since I was a young boy.

Maybe it was because of this bond—or because of all I had seen and heard today, or because I just really liked him as a person—but the closer we got to his house, the heavier my heart began to grow. It sounded odd, but now that I had found him, I wasn't ready to let him go.

The driver must have sensed my reluctance, because just before he turned onto the road that would lead us to Clayton's house, he gestured toward the ice-cream stand, which was still open, and asked if we'd like to make a stop first.

“Can I buy you a scoop of rocky road, Clayton?” I asked.

“Actually, pistachio is my favorite,” he replied, a bit wearily but with a tiny grin.

I bought one for the driver as well, and the three of us sat at one of several picnic tables under a nearby tree. The birds were singing, the sun was shining and the cold, sweet treat was refreshing on this hot summer day.

Once we were finished, I helped Clayton back to the car. As I was holding the door open for him, easing him inside, it struck me how much he reminded me of my grandfather. Somehow, being with Clayton Raber made me miss
Grossdaadi
just a little bit less. And that was a good thing.

When we arrived at the house, I told the driver I wouldn't be long. As I walked Clayton down the path to the door, I thanked him again for what he had done for me in signing over the property. He assured me that what I had done for him was worth infinitely more. Seeing the deep look of peace in his eyes, I knew that must be true.

Despite my satisfaction over all that had taken place during our time together today, as the older man unlocked the door and fumbled for the light, I found myself feeling overwhelmed with a sense of loss and despair.

Something in me did not want to go. The thought of leaving him here in a house that was slowly coming apart, to live out his days all alone, so far from where he had begun, cut me to the core. I wouldn't be able to pop in and visit him anytime I wanted. To the
Englisch
, eighty miles was a perfectly reasonable distance to travel, but to the Amish, it was logistically a world way.

Clayton finally found the light and flipped it on, and then he turned and
stood in the doorway facing me, the two of us in the exact same spots where we'd met just a few hours before. We shared a smile, one that went far beyond words, and then I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what God would have me do for Clayton Raber.

In a flash I understood why I had been so desperate in my search for him—a desperation that went beyond the scope of a critical property issue. I also knew why I'd been destined to expand the tack shop, so that I would find the old clock and Miriam's letter
now
, and not five or ten years from now when it might have been too late. I knew with complete certainty that God had led me to Clayton so that the man could be restored to his Amish faith, and so that he could have what every devoted husband desired and deserved—to be buried next to the wife he loved in life. I had arrived at just the right time. And if there was anything that a clockmaker could be made to understand, it was time.

He thanked me again for coming, adding, “I know why the good Lord led you here, Matthew. So you could bring peace to an old man in his final days.”

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but grin. “This may sound strange, but I think there's another reason God sent me here.”

His eyes met mine and he smiled with curiosity. “Oh? And what might that be?”

My smile grew even wider as I pictured Clayton and his sister reuniting at last, Clayton going before the deacons and hearing them welcome him back and asking for his forgiveness. And if there was no place for him at the Helmuths or among other family members, I could easily see him with us instead. I imagined sharing him with Amanda and my parents, building him a
daadi haus
out behind the cottage, taking him to worship and watching him meet his dozens of nieces and nephews, and hearing him sing the old hymns in German. I pictured placing my newborn child in his arms, and, Lord willing, in a year or two another one. Then watching—as the years might roll on—my children climbing onto his lap for a bedtime story. And then on some future day, laying his body next to Miriam's, in the cemetery over the rise from the place where he grew up.

I held his gaze tight on mine. “He sent me to bring you home.”

D
ISCUSSION
Q
UESTIONS
 

1. This book features two related story lines, one set in the present day and one set back in the 1950s. By seeing what really happened through Clayton's eyes rather than secondhand, through Matthew only, did the story come more alive for you?

2. Why do you think Matthew always felt such a bond of kinship with the infamous clockmaker? What elements of the story end up strengthening that bond?

3. Do you think Clayton would have become a different person had he not been in the buggy accident when he was young? How much are people shaped by what they experience as children?

4. As a clockmaker, Clayton tends to view many things in his life in terms of clocks and how they function. Did any of his various clock-related metaphors resonate with you personally? Which was your favorite?

5. How would you describe Clayton's love for his wife? Did she deserve that love? Was Clayton's love blind or did he see the
reality of the situation but somehow love her anyway? Have you known love like that, or have you seen it in practice?

6. Clayton's community was ready to believe he had murdered his wife. Why do you think that was so? Why do old legends regarding someone's downfall or supposed crime tend to linger?

7. Do you think Clayton and his wife would have ended up having a happy, fulfilling marriage had circumstances played out differently? Why or why not?

8. Soon after leaving Lancaster County, Clayton encounters a kind pastor who is aware of the man's alleged crime but chooses to believe in his innocence anyway. Was this a reflection of the pastor's faith, or was it simply because he was a good judge of character? How much did his gift of discernment play into his decision to take Clayton in? Would you have acted similarly in such a situation?

9. Matthew struggles to trust his heavenly Father because he has learned the hard way that he cannot always trust his earthly father. How much of our relationship with our fathers plays into how we feel about and approach God? How would you compare your relationship with your dad to your relationship with the Lord?

10. Near the end of the story, Matthew imagines Clayton moving back to Lancaster County, getting reconnected with his community, cuddling Matthew's soon-to-be-born child, and later, being laid to rest next to the woman he loved. Do you think this would be a possible scenario for Clayton's life? Why or why not?

Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark

The Men of Lancaster County Series

By Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner

The Amish Groom

The Amish Blacksmith

The Women of Lancaster County Series

By Mindy Starns Clark and Leslie Gould

The Amish Midwife

The Amish Nanny

The Amish Bride

The Amish Seamstress

Other Fiction by Mindy Starns Clark

T
HE
M
ILLION
D
OLLAR
M
YSTERIES

A Penny for Your Thoughts

Don't Take Any Wooden Nickels

A Dime a Dozen

A Quarter for a Kiss

The Buck Stops Here

A S
MART
C
HICK
M
YSTERY

The Trouble with Tulip

Blind Dates Can Be Murder

Elementary, My Dear Watkins

S
TANDALONE
M
YSTERIES

Whispers of the Bayou

Shadows of Lancaster County

Under the Cajun Moon

Secrets of Harmony Grove

Echoes of Titanic (with John Campbell Clark)

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHORS

Mindy Starns Clark
is the bestselling author of numerous books, both fiction and nonfiction, including
The Amish Midwife
(cowritten with Leslie Gould),
The Amish Groom
and
The Amish Blacksmith
(cowritten with Susan Meissner),
Whispers of the Bayou, Under the Cajun Moon,
and
Shadows of Lancaster County,
as well as the popular Million Dollar Mysteries. An
RT Book Club Magazine's
2011 Career Achievement Award winner, Mindy's numerous honors also include a Christy Award and an Inspirational Reader's Choice Award. She lives with her husband, John, and two daughters near Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. You can connect with Mindy at her website:
www.mindystarnsclark.com
.