The Memory Jar (25 page)

From upstairs came the reverberations of her younger cousins’ antics. It sounded like they had started an impromptu game of tag when they were supposed to be changing out of their school clothes.

One set of footsteps pounded above their heads, then two, then three. Aunt Lynette moved to the stairway as if to call up to tell them all to calm down. Laughter spilled from Mrs. Schrock. “Please, don’t shush them on my account. I raised eight children, five of them boys. I have ten grandchildren and some of my children have yet to get started with children of their own. But enough about me.” She stretched out her arms
to Sarah. “Come, I have to meet you. What a beautiful girl! No wonder my Jathan is smitten.”

“Smitten?” Sarah felt herself blushing. Blushing! What a first impression for someone from whom she wanted so much to gain approval.

She didn’t have to worry. Mrs. Schrock noticed her pink cheeks and a smile caused her round eyes to squint. “Ja, and I see, my dear, that you have come fer more than jest baking. More than jest to explore beautiful Holmes County. Every time I mention my son’s name, you turn a new shade of pink.”

Sarah stepped into the old woman’s embrace. “
Ja
, you caught me. It’s so
gut
to meet you. Jathan, well, he has yer smile and yer eyes.”

“He does. And his
Dat
’s stubborn nature. If he has something on his mind, you can be sure he’s not gonna let it go. Not ever.”

“Like the bakery?” Sarah asked as she noticed her youngest cousin waddling into the room. Little Elmer had a shock of blond hair that stuck up from his head like a feather duster. She bent down and opened her arms, and he gladly let her sweep him up.

“Like the bakery and other things. My husband, Will, had his mind set on Jathan landing a stable job. With both him and Yonnie at the woodshop … well, they have to make — sell — a lot of furniture to provide fer two families.” She waved her hand in the air. “But enough about that. Tell me about yerself.”

They sat around the kitchen table and Aunt Lynette poured them coffee. Sarah told them about her family, living in Montana, and her former job at the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. Yet even as she shared everything else, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about Patty. Patty had been Sarah’s dearest
friend and her influence couldn’t be denied, but how could she explain that to these two women?

Maybe I don’t need to share — not yet anyway. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m changing and growing. That I’m looking forward instead of getting stuck in the past
.

Instead, she talked about Jathan, about how he rescued her in the woods, and about how much she enjoyed getting to know him. She also mentioned her ideas for the bakery.

“Oh, dear, sweet girl.” Mrs. Schrock patted Sarah’s hand. “I’ve been asking my sons to help fix up that place fer years now. God knew the desires of my heart and brought someone young and pretty — someone who’s captured my Jathan’s attention — to light a fire under him.”

Sarah took a sip from her coffee. “So you aren’t upset at my ideas for changes?”

“Upset?” Mrs. Schrock chuckled. “Oh ne. I’m looking forward to the help, and I believe my customers will be excited too. We like things simple and plain, but we enjoy a bit of surprise now and then too. You jest being here has already done that. As I was telling my dear Will this morning, ‘That Sarah Shelter has got all of Berlin in a stir, capturing the heart of the most eligible bachelor in town.’”

A
unt Lynette set the leg of lamb on the table. She met Sarah’s eyes and smiled. Her smile said she was thankful Sarah was there with them. Sarah felt the same.

Uncle Ivan cut the lamb into razor-thin slices and served some onto each person’s plate, including his, yet he served no more to himself than he did to the children. The potatoes and vegetables were plentiful on the table, but she could tell that the meat was a treat, and she guessed they hoped to serve it over more than one day.

Soon everyone finished eating, and by the looks on their faces, they all wished for seconds, yet no one asked.

“Sarah, would you like more lamb?” Uncle Ivan lifted the platter of meat in her direction.

She patted her stomach. “
Ach, ne
, I’m
gut
. But those carrots were
appeditlich
. You must be an excellent gardener. May I have more of those?”

Aunt Lynette smiled and handed over the platter of cooked carrots. Sarah scooped a few carrots onto her plate.

“Children, lamb?” Uncle Ivan held up the plate again. Even though their eyes were bright, shakes of head declined
the offer. Sarah smiled, picturing the coming week. Lamb for tomorrow’s supper. Lamb sandwiches for school. Perhaps lamb stew later in the week. She glanced at her aunt and uncle’s dog, Shep, and guessed he’d get the lamb bone for breakfast soon.

With dinner finished, Sarah took the plate of lamb to the kitchen. “Would you like me to wrap it and put it in the icebox?”

“
Ach, ne
. I’m going to wrap it and send it over to the young widow who lives four houses down,” Aunt Lynette said. “You haven’t met her yet, but Esther is delightful. Poor dear lost her husband. He was an only son and his parents are in the
dawdi
house. That’s not counting the twin boys who are near three.”

A cold wave washed over Sarah. “How did her husband die?”

“Cancer. He was having headaches and finally went to a doctor in Columbus. There was a tumor — nothing they could do. He was gone jest like that.”

“Gone jest like that.” Sarah’s heart ached, but the sadness didn’t overwhelm her like it used to. “It’s very sad. I can go with you if you’d like, to offer some encouragement.”

“No, you should rest. It’s been a long day. You must be so tired.” Her aunt patted her hand. “Why don’t you head to bed? The girls and I will finish this up.”

Normally Sarah would refuse the offer, but she found herself nodding. After giving her aunt a quick hug, she hurried to her room.

She lifted her fingers to her
kapp
, lifting it from her head. Death.

She hadn’t thought much if it before losing Patty.

Old people died.

Englisch
people died in automobile accidents. In Montana, the white crosses that dotted the side of the highways proved that. She’d counted them whenever she rode along with an
Englisch
driver on their way to Eureka or Kalispell.

But there was no white cross at the edge of Lake Koocanusa. Sarah didn’t need one to remember. Months after Patty’s death, people had still been talking about it, but then, after that, it was as if no one remembered except Sarah. Others had gone on with their normal lives, and Sarah had gone on with her life, too, even though it pained her to do so.

Death.

Sarah looked at her memory jar. It sat on the unfamiliar dresser, and she hadn’t had time to look at its contents since she’d arrived. So certain the jars would get broken on the trip, she’d transferred one of her jars and Patty’s into plastic peanut butter jars. She’d scraped most of the labels off, but bits of paper still stuck to where they had been glued.

Sarah pulled out a few items that were sitting on top of the pile in Patty’s plastic jar. An acorn, a feather, a chunk of wood. They were all dead. The fact shocked Sarah in a way she couldn’t explain. What she carried around were symbols of the life they used to have — the growth and beauty.

Is that what I’ve been doing? Looking back at the life that used to be, rather than looking ahead to the life that
could
be?

Too often she’d focused on what she’d lost, rather than what Patty had found. Patty had loved God, had had faith in him. And the more Sarah thought about the word
faith
, the more she realized it was all about looking ahead.

I am Lord over the beginning and Lord over the end. Trust me, child
.

The words came as a gentle whisper to her heart. She grasped the chair for support.
The end
.

Years ago, when Sarah had started reading her Bible, she discovered that to have a new life in Christ, she had to accept his death.

Now she had a feeling that to live the life Jesus was calling
her to, she had to accept that death would come — to her and those she loved — but it was life she needed to focus on.

She had to be willing to trust that God protected her heart and had a good plan for her, for Jathan, and maybe for them together.

O
ver the next week, Our Daily Bread picked up in business, but Sarah wasn’t sure if it was because of the remodeling in the bakery, the new bakery items, or if they’d all come to see the young woman who’d caught Jathan Schrock’s interest.

“Where are you from, dear?” one older Amish woman asked. She’d been in the bakery the last two mornings, ordering a buttermilk pie and two maple cupcakes each day. From the slight smile on the woman’s face, Sarah had a feeling only the pie made it to the dinner table each evening.

“West Kootenai, Montana, ma’am.”

The woman picked up her items as gingerly as if she carried fine china. “I’ve read about the Rexford community in
The Budget
. Is West Kootenai near there?”

“Oh,
ja
, the West Kootenai is right across the lake from Rexford. In fact, we have a Rexford address.”

“Oh, my, then you must have heard. There was an Amish woman who was lost in those mountains jest last month. Did you hear about that?”

“
Ja
, uh …”

Two hands grasped her shoulders. “Did you not know? This is the young woman, and it was my Jathan who rescued her from the forest. She could have died up there.” Mrs. Schrock spoke loud enough for everyone in the store to hear.

The older woman’s mouth circled in an
O
. “Oh, my. Were you scared, dear?”

“Ja.”