The Harvest of Grace (24 page)

“Yes!” Lori hopped up and gave Cara and Deborah a hug before bounding down the steps, Better Days running ahead of her.

“The dog stays, Lori.”

“Aw, Mom.”

“He’ll eat your ice cream, mine, Deborah’s, and Jonathan’s.”

“Well,” Israel said.

Cara spun around.

“Good thing he’s not eating my ice cream.”

“Israel.” She wanted to hug Lena’s dad, but that suggested a closeness she didn’t really have with him. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I wasn’t. Now I am. What’s all this talk about Better Days eating ice cream?”

Lori hurried over to him and took his hand. “You seen Ada yet?”

“I most certainly have.” He pointed up the stairs.

Ada stood behind the banister, peering over it. She wore a clean dress and apron and a beautiful smile. She looked more youthful than ever as she slowly made her way down the stairs.

“So where’s Jonathan?” Cara asked.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden porch made them turn toward the screen door.

He
stood there.

Israel glanced at Cara, waiting to take a cue from her. But she stood in a pool of hurt, unsure how to cope with
his
presence. It was as if each time she saw him, she dealt with the same raw, unbound pain she’d grown up with.

“Trevor.” Israel motioned for him to enter. “Good to see you.”

When Trevor stepped inside, Lori took a step back, withdrawing her hand from Israel’s. She moved beside her mother and wrapped her arms around Cara’s waist.

Jonathan came in the front door. “I’ve connected the hayride wagon, minus the hay. Now we have room for everyone.” When he spotted Trevor, he looked at Cara as if checking on her.

She wanted to shake her head, but something stopped her. Maybe she should feel sorry for Trevor. He looked out of place, standing in the middle of a group obviously bent on going elsewhere.

In the eleven days since he’d begun working at the Blank farm, he hadn’t been around much. And she’d enjoyed every moment of his absence. Nothing like dairy farming to keep a person constantly busy.

“I’ll just be going.” Trevor looked at Cara. “Have fun. I’ll see you later.”

When he walked out, everyone stood there awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her.

“Okay, fine. I hear you.” She stepped onto the porch. Her father’s shoulders were slumped as he went down the sidewalk.

An image of herself at sixteen, scantily dressed and dancing at a bar, flashed before her. Circumstances had trapped her into making choices she wasn’t proud of. Had they trapped him too?

“Wait.” Cara hurried toward him.

He turned.

“You could go with us.”

“That’s okay, Carab—” The hurt reflecting from him tugged at her.

She closed her eyes. “I want you to come with us.”

“No you don’t.”

“So you’re giving up?”

He barely shrugged. “I’m not much of an arguer.”

“Was Mom?”

He shook his head. “She had a strong will, but like most of her people, she wore it quietly and politely.”

Cara’s eyes misted. “I still miss her.”

He nodded. “So do I. Every day, all day long.”

His words stunned her. He used to say that to her before bedtime on a good evening. They’d had good times? The realization made her shudder. “You … read to me on the couch while Mama sat in her chair mending clothes.”

A faint smile eased some of the sorrow from his eyes. “Yeah, that’s right.”

She remembered that when it was time for her to go to bed, she’d say, “I love you,” and he’d say, “I love you more. Every day, all day long.”

She’d gag on those phrases if she tried to speak them now. “You should come with us.”

“You really want me to?” The disbelief in his voice rattled her.

She nodded.

“Lori won’t like it.”

“I’ll let Better Days go with us, and you can give the dog a lick of your ice cream. She’ll like that.”

He scrunched his face. “Do I have to eat the rest of the cone afterward?”

She stood speechless for a moment until she realized he was teasing her. She chuckled. “Is it okay if I call you by your first name?”

“Of course.”

“How about a horse-and-wagon ride to the ice cream parlor, Trevor?”

“I’d like that.”

She turned toward the house. “Deb, you guys ready?”

While everyone piled into the wagon, Cara stepped inside the house. “Come on, Better Days.” The dog bounded out the door, to the wagon, and onto Lori’s lap. Cara climbed into the wagon, and Lori beamed at her mom.

Israel drove with Ada beside him. Trevor shifted, his thin frame looking uncomfortable on the wooden slats. “Where’s Ephraim?”

“He doesn’t usually come to Ada’s House during the week.”

“Why not?”

“He logs a lot of hours at his cabinetry shop in Dry Lake.”

“He seems like a good man.”

“He is.” She bit her bottom lip to keep a goofy grin off her face. “I first met him when I was eight. As an adult he came to New York, looking for me.”

They spent the ride in stilted, uncomfortable conversation. But at least she was able to talk civilly to him.

The ice cream parlor had walk-up windows and picnic tables under huge shade trees. Everyone except Trevor picked out a favorite flavor, then moved to a table. Trevor stayed in the wagon with Better Days.

Cara ordered three cones and sent Lori back to the wagon with Trevor’s. After gathering some napkins, Cara handed Lori her ice cream, and she hurried to Deborah and Jonathan’s table.

Cara moved back to the wagon and sat on the tailgate. “If cameras were allowed here, I’d fill a photo album a month with pictures.”

Trevor licked his ice cream while trying to keep forty-pound Better Days at bay. “You could probably snap some privately of those closest to you and keep them tucked away.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m already on the bishop’s most wanted list, though I’ve managed to stay off the deacon’s list. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“The deacon coming to see someone is a bad thing?”

“He visits when a person is in violation of an Amish rule. From what I’ve seen, the bishop tries to intervene in situations and steer folks the right way. If the deacon is called in, he drops the gavel—no debate allowed.”

“Guess it’d be best for you not to be caught with a camera.”

“I wish they’d at least allow one family picture every four or five years. Nothing fancy but something like the shot you have of Mom and me.”

“I look at it every day.”

“I don’t have a single photo of Lori’s dad to show her.”

“Why not?”

“I needed to get out of New York fast, so I took Lori and left everything behind except the clothes on our backs … and her book bag.”

“Maybe you could return to New York to get your things.”

“Oh, I can just see the Plain folks finding out I’m running over to New York for a couple of eight by tens.”

“I guess not. Those pictures meant a lot to you, though, didn’t they?”

“Certainly not more than our safety. But they would mean a great deal to Lori. She doesn’t have any memories of her dad, and he loved her so much—both of us, really. I think she’d cherish having photos of them together. Even more so when she gets older. I realized that when I saw the picture of you and Mom.”

“Where in New York did you live?”

When she told him the name of the apartment building, his eyes lit up. “I know right where you’re talking about. I used to work as a handyman at the apartments across the street.”

“Really?”

“The manager of your apartment building would’ve had cleaners get rid of anything left behind.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Anyone who might’ve salvaged your stuff?”

Her heart glimmered with a touch of hope. “Lori’s baby-sitter lived next door. It’s possible she grabbed a few things and is holding on to them.”

“You should write to her.”

The hint of excitement faded. “I can’t. It’s best if my whereabouts remain a secret.”

“Creditors?”

“Worse. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Better Days lunged forward, taking a swipe at Trevor’s ice cream. The sudden movement made him drop the cone, and Better Days lapped it up.

“And Lori wasn’t even here to see my great sacrifice,” he said.

His humor caught her off guard, making her realize she saw him as less than human, which he wasn’t. Maybe building some semblance of a relationship with him was possible after all.

Twenty-One

Grey rinsed off the last of the flatware, but his mind remained on Lennie and their future. She loved so deeply and had enough resilience to cope with disappointments and grief without turning against him. No one would ever understand what that meant to him, but he was still unsure what his next step should be. He placed the handful of utensils into the dish drainer.

It had been two weeks since they’d talked. Except for the one church Sunday, he’d not even caught a glimpse of her. He still wasn’t sure what he should do about the test results. Grey released the water from the sink and began to dry the dishes.

This decision wasn’t about what he wanted. Lennie trusted him to hear God in the matter, so he kept setting aside his personal feelings while praying.

His son came inside with a small, hand-carved horse in his hand. After telling Grey that Israel was coming, Ivan asked for two things: a cup of cold water and permission to go across the bridge to Allen’s house.

Grey glanced out the window and saw Israel cross the backyard. He’d used the bridge, which might mean Lennie was at her brother’s this afternoon. Since today was the Fourth of July and all of Israel’s family loved watching fireworks, they might be having a midweek gathering. It would be nice to see her, even if they’d be among a large group and would have to keep their distance.

Grey poured Ivan a drink and gave him permission to go to Allen’s. He opened the screen door. “Hello, Israel. Kumm rei. What brings you here?”

Israel walked in. “I have a proposition for you to think on.”

Grey took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with icy water. He passed it to Israel. “Have a seat and tell me about it.”

Israel pulled out a chair and sat. “I haven’t talked to anybody but Ada about this, and I’m not ready for others to know just yet.”

“Now I’m curious.”

Israel grinned. “I asked Ada to marry me, and she said yes.”

“Congratulations. That’s great news.”

Israel grinned while staring at the table. “I didn’t know a man with grown children could feel like this. It’s taken a long time for things between Ada and me to work themselves out. To say we’re really happy about it doesn’t begin to tell the tale.”

“Lennie may be just as excited as you two when she learns of it.”

“I suspect so.” Israel took a drink. “We’ll tell everyone soon enough, but one of Lena’s first questions will be where we’ll live, which is why I’m here.” Israel smeared the condensation on his glass, fidgeting for no apparent reason.

Grey waited.

“I don’t mean for my idea to interfere with your plans or hopes for your and Lena’s future. You’ll be the head of your household, so I’m coming to you with my idea. If you don’t like it, I won’t mention it to Lena. It’s just an offer, one you can turn down, and I won’t take it personal.”

“Okay.”

“You built this house, and maybe you and Lena want to move in here, but I’d like for you to think about moving yourselves and Ivan into my house when the time comes.”

Israel had one of the nicest and prettiest places in all of Dry Lake. “Your place? Why?”

“Lena loves that old home, and I can build furniture anywhere. But Ada can’t run her business here in Dry Lake. We don’t get enough tourist traffic, and she loves operating Ada’s House. So what I propose is a sort of house swap. You get my place, which has several rooms for a growing family, acreage, barns, and Lena’s beloved greenhouse, and I get your place to put up for sale. Eventually that money will go to my other children to divide equally.”

That was a really generous offer. Maybe too generous.

Israel slid his glass one way and then the other. “I’d do just about anything for Lena. I guess you’ve figured that out by now. And it’s hard on a woman to enter another woman’s home and build a life with someone, especially if she’s never been married before.” Israel sighed. “Am I butting in where I oughta stay out?”

“No. I agree with what you’re saying. But how would the rest of your family take it? It’s more their homestead than it is mine.”

“If anyone minds, they’ll get over it within a few days. Lena’s been running that home since her mother passed, and it’s hers. No one will deny that. Ada thinks if you two will be living there, it will make planning the wedding even more special for Lena.”

“Ada knows about Lennie and me?”

“Ya. I had to talk to someone about giving up Lena. I know I’m not supposed to feel that way. Lena’s nearly six years older than her sisters were when they married, but the idea of letting her go isn’t coming easy.”

“I’ll take good care of her.”

“Oh, heavens, I know that. And she’ll do the same for you.” Israel took a long drink. “Just think on my idea and let me know. This plan does have one stipulation.”