A Love Undone (34 page)

That thought struck hard, and he could see why it had bolstered Jolene. A bit of faith stirred within him. “That helps, Jo. A lot. But the only way I can stand this situation is if I know you will be all right. So give Glen another chance. You saw him in there today. He cares for you, and he had a dozen chances to take a pound of flesh from either of us, but he never did.”

She gazed out the barn door at Glen. He was doing his duty standing guard, but he was talking to Ray and only glancing their way. “He was at his best when I was being questioned alone.”

“See, he could be the one, Jo, and you had to go through this to really see it.”

She shook her head. “Now that I know what it means to have an inexplicable connection to someone, I don’t think I can marry if I feel less for someone else.”

The truck pulled into the driveway. “Tell me you’ll try. Please.”

“Okay.” She held out her hand to shake his. It was the only acceptable way to say good-bye with Glen watching. But she’d put something in his hand, a warm piece of metal with edges.

She smiled and wiped away another tear. “Bye.”

Andy stood rooted in place as she got into the truck. He waved, and soon the vehicle was out of sight. He looked in his hand.

A key to the attic. They both knew he wouldn’t return to Lester’s and meet her in the attic. The key wasn’t for that. But the impact of what the key meant washed over him, and despite the value of its significance, he was certain the harshest wind yet swept across his soul.

Ray came down the stairs carrying an armload of wrapped presents. The home he’d grown up in smelled and sounded as it should on Christmas Eve. He paused on the stairs, enjoying the many noises. Snippets of several conversations. Laughter. Cabinets and drawers being opened and closed. Plates and utensils scraping against each other.

Love and family—that’s what he heard.

When he’d first been injured, noises overwhelmed him, and Jolene would sit on these steps with him, covering his ears as he watched his siblings open their gifts.

Josiah’s little one ran through the house giggling, probably for no other reason than excitement. Michael’s newborn was happy in Jolene’s arms as she cooed to him, her newest nephew. Michael and Anna were setting the kitchen table. Naomi was getting cookies out of the oven, her round belly very much in the way, and her husband moved already-cooled cookies onto a plate. Hope stood at the island, reading … when not jumping into the middle of a conversation. Apparently she could read and listen to others talk at the same time, because she lowered the book and hopped directly into a conversation and then returned to reading her book.

One thing about tonight stuck out—an old, familiar aspect that he’d sensed numerous times over the years. Jolene was deeply content, and her faith was intact, but her heart was broken. A person
would have to know her to see that, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t said a word about the events that had taken place at Andy’s home. If Ray hadn’t been there, he would only know what the others had heard through the district—that she went, answered questions, was cleared of all accusations, and returned home.

Glen had invited her to attend the Christmas play at school tonight, but she’d declined. Jolene hadn’t missed attending the Christmas play since her own play when she was in the first grade. But she hadn’t wanted to go anywhere tonight.

She glanced up. “Oh, look at you, Mr. Moneybags.”

He laughed and finished descending the stairs. “Had some money. Now have none.” He went to the corner and set the gifts with the others. Money didn’t hold the power over him it once had. Anxiety crept in at times, but his obsessive concerns were manageable enough that he ignored the pressure when it began to mount. He’d discovered that diving into a job he enjoyed was the best possible medicine.

Josiah leaned against a counter. “So explain how your businessventure plans work.”

“I’m working at Lester’s with horses Andy helped me buy at the auctions. All my other business ventures are various jobs James comes up with. Since a bank wouldn’t approve a loan so he could buy a nursery, I’m helping him get started by doing lawn care and landscaping without owning a nursery. Anyway, to get our names out there for lawn services in the spring, James got the idea of shoveling snow from sidewalks for free. One time per potential customer, and then we leave them our business card. But people liked us and
the job we did, so they started calling us to clear snow and ice off their driveways and sidewalks for pay.”

“Ray is also doing pet and house care for people who’ve gone away for the holidays. He does that for two families of snowbirds, who won’t return until May. And”—Jolene beamed at him—“he’s boarding a couple of horses at Lester’s for people.”

Michael clicked his tongue. “Who would’ve thought you could make full-time pay doing a bunch of part-time jobs?”

“James.” Hope lowered her book. “He’s creative, and he’s got more ideas than he’s got time. He’ll earn enough to buy a nursery one day. It might take two years, but you just wait and see.”

Josiah frowned. “What you’re doing is odd, Ray. It’s like a Fruit Basket Turnover of small jobs. You train some horses and then dabble in a dozen other things. You can’t continue living this way, can you?”

“Oh, let him be.” Jolene brushed the back of her fingers across the newborn’s rosy cheek. “He’s eighteen and not looking to marry or provide for a family anytime soon, so why can’t he do a hodgepodge of jobs if it makes him happy?”

His sister had changed over the last year, or maybe he simply saw her more clearly now. Either way, it appeared to him that she no longer felt a need to conform to set ideals or to follow a set way so that the Amish would perceive her behavior or her siblings’ behavior as acceptable.

“Ya, I guess he’s in a position to hold numerous and ever-changing part-time jobs.” Josiah nodded. “It’s just … different from what’s expected among the Amish.”

“It is.” Jolene swayed the baby. “In case you haven’t noticed, we, as a family, are different. It began with Daed, the most loving, non-rule-centered Amish person I ever knew, and Mamm, the most educated Amish person I’ve ever known. Apparently coloring outside the lines is in our genes, and we’re carrying on the tradition.”

“But”—Michael put the last butter knife on the table and walked to the island—“once sure of the right path, we follow our hearts without wavering.”

“Michael,” Josiah said, “remember the time Daed …” Ray’s brothers started down memory lane.

Ray put his hands on Jolene’s shoulders. “Look around you, Jo. You’re surrounded by whole, happy, and faithful people, and you were the glue.” He squeezed her shoulders and peered at his nephew. The only thing he knew to do to ease her heartache was tell her one encouraging thing each day. Oh, and make her proud of him.

Andy’s attention focused on the barn as he drove the horse-drawn carriage toward his driveway. His miracle from God was in that barn—the tree Jolene had given him. The way one branch of that tree bloomed in winter might be a sign from the Creator that Andy would not lose his sanity as he ached for Jolene.

He’d discovered it one night in November. The ground was covered in several feet of snow, and Andy kept circling through the woods and barn, looking for a bit of peace that he couldn’t find. How was he going to keep going? His mind and heart were screaming for Jolene, and he just wanted to give up. As he cried out to God,
he climbed the ladder to the haymow to water the tree Jolene had given him, and that was when he discovered the miracle.

A secret he’d told no one.

“What a busy day.” Andy had several sacks of groceries at Tobias’s feet and even more in the back.

His son looked inside a grocery bag. After getting groceries and running errands, Andy had picked up Tobias from school. “The teacher said the groundhog saw his shadow yesterday. Did you know that, Daed?”

It’d been a long, bitter winter. The first snow had hit in October, and even though it was now the first week of February, there was no hint that the snowstorms would let up. “I read it in the paper this morning.”

“It means six more weeks of winter. I’m glad. I like sledding and ice-skating.” Tobias poked his Daed’s shoulder. “Hey. Some of the guys are going sledding on Omar’s hill this afternoon. Can I go?”

“Doesn’t Omar get tired of you boys being over there?”

“Not at all. His wife, Lizzy, offers us hot chocolate and cookies almost every time. So can I go?”

Andy’s attention never left the open hayloft window. He hadn’t gone up there yet today. Time hadn’t allowed for it. “How much homework do you have?”

“I did most of it at school, so maybe half an hour.”

“Get that done while eating your snack, and I’ll take you over there.”

“Really?” Tobias grinned. “All right!”

Andy pulled the rig to the front door. He grabbed the handles of
half a dozen plastic grocery bags and hopped out. “Tobias, as soon as you get inside, wash those hands, scrubbing off all the germs from school, and then take your homework to Sadie. She said to tell you that she made an apple strudel pie and that you may have a slice of it for your snack.”

“Yum!”

Andy opened the back of the rig, passed bags to Tobias, and grabbed the rest. By the time Andy walked inside, Tobias was down the hall washing his hands. Andy unloaded the rest of the groceries.

The barn wooed him like the savory aromas of a feast drew a half-starved man. He drove the horse and carriage into the barn, his heart pounding in anticipation. He put the horse away, dried him well, and laid a blanket over him. After feeding and watering him, Andy got a container of water and climbed the ladder to the haymow.

The moment the tree came into sight, his heart palpitated. He walked to it and caressed the beautiful white flower. Who would believe a dogwood tree could have a single branch that had kept a bloom on it all winter? The current flower would fall off in a week or so but not before another flower bloomed on this same branch.

First and foremost, a winter-blooming dogwood branch meant God had performed a miracle just to be sure Andy knew the truth—that He was taking care of Jolene. Of course it also meant that in the midst of accepting his life for what it was, God had sent a message that He cared about Andy and what he was going through too.

The view of early summertime through Lester’s attic window was stunning. The dogwood was in full bloom, and one of the horses was in the pasture right behind it. Jolene studied the view and had a loaded paintbrush in hand. But she knew this painting would be similar to all the others she’d done over the last eight months.

It didn’t matter what the view was or what season the view reflected. The focal point of the painting would be Andy. Maybe the artwork was therapeutic, and one day she would paint something or someone else. Out of respect for the Old Ways and perhaps because she had no experience painting faces, she left him faceless, although she would shadow in his skin color and beard. It fit well with her impressionistic-style work.

She’d been down this path of grief before. The trick was to allow herself to paint whatever came from her heart. Eventually other forms of life would begin to bud and sprout inside her again, much like spring itself.