Her calm words finally reached Chris. He bounded toward the ambulance without looking back at any of them.
He climbed inside and the ambulance doors closed behind him. It took off and the siren blared.
Kate reached down to grasp Malcolm's hand and help him up. She touched his cheek and he winced. "I bet that's pretty painful."
"Yeah," he acknowledged but he shrugged. "I'll live. Can't blame the guy for coming to the conclusion that I'd hurt Hannah again."
"I'm so sorry," Fern rushed to apologize but he shook his head. "I just told him to come quick, she was in trouble."
"I'd have come to the same conclusion. I mean, look." He gestured at the blood that covered his hands and shirt.
Fern rushed off to find the hand sanitizer and returned with it and a towel she got from one of the paramedics. She insisted on helping him clean up, telling him over and over how grateful she was for him helping Hannah deliver safely.
"Here comes Matthew," Jenny said as he approached driving the buggy.
Malcolm cast a wary look at Matthew. "Hannah's brother? Should I run for the car?"
Jenny patted his arm and shook her head. "Matthew's not like that." But she remembered seeing him do just that when he met Chris for the first time.
"I know," he said, touching his jaw and wincing again."He could have pressed charges against me for setting fire to his barn and he didn't. I got pretty lucky with the Bontragers when I was messed up and blamed Chris for everything wrong with my life.
"Well, I'd say the Bontragers are feeling pretty thankful they practiced forgiveness, wouldn't you? And Chris will be thanking you once he finds out what you did," she told him.She hugged him, then Kate. "Thank you both again."
"So you have transportation to the hospital?" Kate asked them.
"Yes, thanks," Jenny said and she turned and slipped her arms around Matthew. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Wait 'til you hear what happened."
She heard Kate telling Malcolm they were going to follow them as she and Matthew walked to the buggy.
Matthew watched Jenny cradling her new nephew and thought about the strange turn of events of the past week.
Who would ever have thought that they all owed so much to the man who had come here to hurt Chris years ago after they both got out of the military and then had hurt Hannah instead?
His sister sat tucked up on the sofa in her house, safe if a little pale and tired looking. She'd been rushed into surgery after the birth, given a transfusion after losing so much blood, and spent two days in the hospital. But the doctors had told Chris that she'd be fine with some rest.
She watched, smiling indulgently as one relative after another tried to cajole Jenny into letting them hold the baby.Grandpa William and Grandma Fern and Phoebe—told she was an honorary great-grandma while she was at Matthew and Jenny's house—had had turns first and now sat drinking coffee and eating apple spice cake that Phoebe had baked that afternoon.
Matthew thought Grandma Fern looked impatient to hold the baby again. Once she'd found out that Hannah was expecting, she'd firmly told her husband she wasn't going back home until her daughter-in-law delivered. Now it didn't look like she intended on being budged home anytime soon.
Jenny glanced up from the baby and smiled at Matthew.He thought about how she wanted to adopt. He'd promised to think about it and he had. He wanted nothing more to make Jenny happy and if a
boppli
would do that, he hoped that God would clear the path to having one this way if He hadn't the traditional way.
Besides, he loved children, so more would be a fine thing.The
kinner
would even be happy because they'd always wanted another
bruder
or
schwesder.
"You're looking smug," she said as she walked over to him and they looked at the baby together. "Does it feel pretty good to be an uncle?"
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he bent to study the baby. "
Schur
does. The
kinner
like having a cousin to fuss over, too," he said. "I didn't think I'd get them to go off to
schul
this morning. I promised they could come straight here and see the
boppli
again afterward."
Just at that moment, there was a commotion at the door.
"It's the Bontrager gang," she murmured and they shared a smile.
The children tried to pass through the door at the same time. Much not-so-gentle pushing ensued until Annie won out and ran toward them.
"I get to hold him first."
"Go wash your hands," her parents said at the same time.
Phoebe supervised the hand washing and then the children sat on the sofa and each got their turn to hold the baby, starting with Annie.
"I wish we could have—" she began and then she stopped, looked at her father, and bit her lip.
Matthew tensed but when he glanced at Jenny, she didn't look stricken as she'd done when one of the
kinner
had expressed a desire for a sibling. He took Jenny's hand and he smiled when she squeezed it. Maybe she had gained some peace from making the decision to talk to him about adoption, he mused.
The baby having been transferred to each of his three cousins, Hannah held out her arms in hopes of getting her son for some cuddling. Joshua held the baby out to Chris. As he passed his father, he stopped and bent slightly to show off his son to his grandpa.
"Well, Dad, did I finally do something right?"
William bristled at that. "What a thing to say! I never said you didn't do anything right."
"Here we go," Fern muttered and she rolled her eyes at Hannah.
Chris straightened. "All we've done all our lives is butt heads."
Fern stood and took the baby from Chris. "Well, that's just because the two of you are so alike. Both of you are stubborn as mules."
"I'm not stubborn," Chris protested. Hands on his hips, he turned to his father. "It's him who's stubborn."
William harrumphed.
Hannah held out her hand to her husband. "Your mother's right. But we love both of you." She smiled up at him. "And your father told me the other day he's proud of what you've accomplished in such a short time here on the farm."
Surprised, Chris stared at his father. "You did?"
Reddening, his father nodded grudgingly. "Sure. I give credit where credit is due."
Chris started to say something but then, after a glance at Hannah, subsided. "Thanks."
"You've had a big hand in things, too," his father said, bending to kiss the top of Hannah's head. "Chris seems a lot more peaceful here and I have to think that's due to you."
Matthew watched tears well up in his sister's eyes. "Why, thank you.
Grossdaedi."
William looked a little misty-eyed. "Grandfather," he said."I'm a grandfather." He harrumphed and patted Hannah's shoulder.
"I love my son but I really love the woman he chose," he said. And then, as if embarrassed, he left the room, muttering something under his breath about getting them all more coffee.
Chris settled his son in the cradle Matthew had taught him how to make. He stroked his son's cheek and then the wood he'd spent hours carving by hand, sanding, then staining and rubbing. A nudge of his hand sent the rocker moving and the baby closed its eyes and slept.
"Here I thought the two of you were looking at seed catalogs all those evenings you were in the barn," Hannah told Chris.
He grinned. "It's not bad for a first attempt, do you think?"
She patted the sofa cushion next to her and when he joined her, she leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I think it's pretty spectacular."
There was a knock on the door. Joshua ran to answer it and Kate Lang walked in carrying a big Mylar balloon bouquet and a box wrapped in glossy blue paper. "I hope you don't mind me stopping by for a minute," she told Hannah. "I heard you were home from the hospital and just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing."
Annie jumped up and took the balloon bouquet to set on a nearby table. She stood tapping the balloons and watching the way they bobbed and glittered.
Kate oohed and ahhed over the baby while Hannah opened the present to reveal a hand-knitted blanket.
"You made this?" Hannah said, stroking it reverently. "It's so beautiful."
"Yeah, well, it's just something I do to relax in the evenings after work," Kate said. "I don't let the guys at the station know about it. They'd tease me to death."
Joshua tugged at Matthew's sleeve. "
Daedi,
there's someone in a car outside."
"I better go," Kate said. "Someone's waiting for me."
"Is it Malcolm?" Chris asked her.
Kate nodded. "He didn't feel he should come in."
Without hesitating, Chris strode out the door, returning with a wary-looking Malcolm. Then Chris took his son and placed him in Malcolm's arms.
"We might not have him right now if not for you," he said, his voice sounding like it was thick with unshed tears."Malcolm, meet Jonah Malcolm."
Visibly moved, Malcolm stared at the baby. "You didn't have to do that."
"I think we did." Chris said quietly. "Maybe one day our sons can play together."
Malcolm nodded. "The ex is letting me have him every other weekend now." He glanced at Hannah and smiled. "Things have really turned around for me since Hannah decided I was worth another chance."
Hannah stood and hugged him. "You were." She glanced at Kate. "Looks like someone else believes in you, too."
He glanced at Kate and grinned. "Yeah. Go figure, huh?"
Matthew saw Hannah sway but before he could react, Chris swooped her up and carried her back to the sofa where he sternly warned she was to stay or she'd be banished to their bedroom.
Kate and Malcolm left a few minutes later and after glancing at the time, Matthew shepherded his own brood back to their house to do chores.
"I'll be right there," Jenny promised as she helped Phoebe gather up the coffee cups and cake plates.
"I should be helping," Fern said but she managed to get Jonah in her arms again and was settling into a wooden rocker.
"Mother, the least you could do is let me hold that young 'un again for a few minutes," Matthew heard William complain as he left.
"Wait your turn," she said with a laugh. "Hey, young man, let's talk about how soon you can get your Mommy and Daddy to come to Kansas and see your Granny and Paw Paw, huh?"
Y
ou're sure you can manage while I'm gone?"
Matthew gave her a puzzled look. "We always do."
Jenny glanced around her spotless kitchen. "Yes, but that was when Hannah was here to help. She has her own family now."
Phoebe walked into the kitchen. "What am I, chopped liver?"
A strangled sound escaped Jenny's lips. She stared at her grandmother. "
What?"
Grinning, Phoebe poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "It's an expression. I'm sure you've heard of it."
Openly laughing now, Jenny nodded. "Yes, but I've never heard my Amish grandmother use it."
Phoebe shrugged and helped herself to a cookie from a plate on the table. "You pick up things."
"Apparently." Jenny frowned when she saw the time. She sighed. "Well, I'd better get going." She bent to hug her grandmother and then walked outside with Matthew.
"You're sure you have time to drive me?" she asked as he helped her into the buggy and set her overnight bag in the back.
"You know it's slow right now. And it gives us a few minutes to be alone together."
And without that time being in a bedroom, she thought, though he wouldn't say it and neither would she. There was still distance between them, distance they hadn't managed to bridge.
They didn't often get to take a buggy ride alone together. She found herself remembering a drive before they were married.It was one of her favorite memories. Matthew had picked her up after physical therapy and they'd picnicked on her favorite McDonald's burgers near a patch of daffodils pushing through a late snow. He'd taken her there because she'd been so tired of the dreary winter and the pain and the therapy. His thoughtfulness had been just what she needed.
The leaves had all fallen from the trees now, creating a carpet of gold and russet and brown on the road as Jenny and Matthew wended their way into town.
"I left dinner in the refrigerator, all you have to do is—"
Matthew glanced at her and grinned. "We'll be fine."
"But—"
"We'll be fine."
"Well, you don't have to sound like I'm dispensable," she told him, feeling a little miffed.
Then he did something that surprised her. He picked up her hand and kissed it. "You're indispensable, I assure you."
"So you say." She lifted her chin and turned to look out the buggy, pretending to be miffed, but when she turned, he was grinning at her.
"We don't like it when you're away but we know it's important for you to do it sometimes for your work," he said quietly."And it's been good for the
kinner
to help more."
"They do so much—especially compared to
Englisch
children."
Matthew shrugged. "Hard work is good for everyone.
Kinner
here know how to do their share. And they love it."
The Amish didn't believe in public displays of affection so after he parked the buggy, Matthew always gave her a big hug and a kiss before they got out. She wondered if he would do it today since they were still walking around each other a bit.
But he gathered her in his arms and kissed her without reservation.Her heart turned over at the gesture and afterward, she rested her forehead against his.
He acted as if nothing had happened between them. When she drew back, she looked into his deep blue eyes, searching for something to say.
"Life's too short," he said quietly as he stroked her cheek."When you come back, let's talk some more and see if we can get past this for good."
Nodding, she started to get out of the buggy but he touched her arm. She turned and looked at him.
"I know it's hard to forgive. But even though I told you that I felt I had to honor your father's wishes to stay away from you, that didn't mean I didn't regret that I didn't go back and talk to him again."
It was the first time he'd said that. Jenny stared at him.
"I told you, it wasn't easy for me. I wish you could believe that. And understand it."
"I'm trying," she whispered. Then she remembered what one of her college professors had once said: "When people say they'll try, eighty percent of the time it doesn't get done. Just say, 'I will' and it
will
get done."
Jenny took a deep breath. "I will," she promised.
She watched him get out of the buggy and reach into the back for her overnight bag. Pulling a note from her purse, she laid it on his seat and got out. He walked her into the terminal and waited with her until it was time for her to leave.
She told herself not to look back. The first time she'd left him and the children after the wedding, she'd nearly gotten up and left the train. But she'd forced herself to stay on it, to go see her editor. Matthew had insisted she go in the first place, saying her work was important. And did she want the
kinner
to see that she was afraid to leave, that she was a quitter? he'd asked. Or that she thought she had to hang close, never let them learn to take care of themselves without her? That wasn't good, he'd maintained.
Smiling at the memory, Jenny leaned back in her seat and got comfortable, then began writing on a yellow legal pad.
"Hi there!" an older woman said as she took the seat near Jenny. "Sorry, didn't mean to bump you."
"It's okay," Jenny told her, trying not to rub the elbow the woman had hit with her oversized purse.
"I'm going into the city to see some plays. Where are you going?"
"The city. But it's for work."
"Work?" The woman eyed her curiously, taking in Jenny's Plain clothing and the pad on which she'd been writing. "What kinds of work do you do?"
"I'm a writer."
The woman considered that. "Well, how about that. What kinds of things do you write?"
It should be easy by now to talk about her writing, thought Jenny. But it had always been so personal to her. The television news reporting had been different, somehow. Yes, some writing had been involved, but that had been just straight reporting and delivering to the camera.
So she told the woman—her name was Adele—about the book she was working on in as few words as possible. Adele clapped a hand to her chest. "Why, I know who you are! I used to watch those broadcasts. My, look at how well you're doing."
Jenny knew that she looked like she was doing well now. She no longer limped, her scars had faded, and although she didn't always love that she'd gained weight, she knew she looked better than when she'd been rail thin after the car bombing. The emotional, well, that was pretty much okay, too. She hadn't had a nightmare in more than six or eight months now. But the fact that she hadn't conceived made her wonder if the abdominal injuries hadn't permanently rendered her infertile.
Her stomach was queasy again, no doubt because of the motion of the train.
"I read where you became Amish," said Adele. She reached into her purse and withdrew a bag of cookies, held them out to Jenny who refused them with a polite smile, then took one for herself. "I just admire them—the Amish, I mean—for practicing forgiveness and all."
She sighed as she ate another cookie. "I should let you get back to your work. With that, the woman turned to her magazine and, absorbed, munched on her cookies as she read.
Forgiveness. Jenny reflected on how she hadn't been practicing that lately. Before her grandmother had fallen ill, she'd sat at her own kitchen table and reflected on how she wasn't a saint. She'd envied her sister-in-law being pregnant and not been happy that she hadn't been able to conceive.
Then she'd found out that her grandmother had written her father to inform him that Jenny fell in love with Matthew, the boy next door. The boy who was Amish. She'd known how Jenny's father had broken away from the Amish and wouldn't want her to marry Matthew. And then—then to find out that Matthew had promised her father that he wouldn't pursue her against his wishes.
She'd been so upset for so long and struggled so hard to understand, to accept. To forgive. Gradually she'd begun to understand her grandmother's actions and to accept them.She'd finally begun to forgive. Remembering how her grandmother had sent her the quilt in the hospital with the note that said "Come. Heal" had helped. Whether Phoebe had done it as a way of undoing what she'd done years ago didn't even matter.Things had worked out.
That quilt, that note, had begun her road back here, to heal, to be reunited with Matthew. To find love and her faith and a way of life she had never imagined. She'd healed.
And she'd begun to feel a peace here she'd never imagined.
Some said everything happened for a reason. Maybe there was a reason for why she'd been separated from Matthew, why she'd gone to college when she really hadn't wanted to. Why she'd been injured so badly overseas and suffered and then, after all those years, returned to Matthew.
And maybe there was some reason why she hadn't conceived.
Did she have to know to trust God? Could she just . . . be? When she thought about it, did she really have a choice? Did she want to let what had happened years ago separate her from the family she loved? From her grandmother, her husband, her children?
Yes, her children.
She remembered how it had felt to realize how quickly she could lose one of them to an injury when Joshua had been hurt, how quickly life could change.
Remembering how he had apologized for getting hurt and causing his family pain and expense, Jenny doodled aimlessly on her pad. He'd said he hadn't obeyed his parents' rules about safety. That made her think about how Matthew had said if she understood how the Amish insisted on obedience, on obeying the rules no matter what, on putting the good of others, of the community, above his own, she would understand and be able to forgive and go on. He'd even admitted when pressed that he had sometimes regretted that he'd gone against his beliefs, his upbringing, and pressed her father to talk to him again.
But this man she'd had a second chance to love . . . if she thought about it, one of the things she loved about him was that he did the right thing. She'd thought he hadn't loved her enough and that's why he hadn't refused to listen to her father.But those rules he lived by, the
Ordnung
and the Amish culture, had shaped this man she loved.
She remembered how when she'd first returned to Paradise, Matthew had often taken her to the place they'd picnicked as teenagers. He'd carved a heart and their initials into a tree and said he'd intended on showing it to her. But her father had come that day, talked to him, and taken Jenny back home with him.
He wasn't a talkative man but she needed to remember that he'd shown her so many times since they reunited that he loved her.
When Matthew went to get into the buggy and saw the folded note on the seat, his heart felt like it would burst from his chest.
He stood there staring at it for the longest time, as wary as if he'd encountered a poisonous snake. Finally, he made himself reach for it and climb inside the buggy to read it. Was she leaving him? Maybe she'd decided she couldn't ever forgive him.
No, he couldn't believe that. She was a loving woman, a compassionate one. Eventually, when she had a chance to think more, when she realized how much he loved her and she loved him—because he was convinced she loved him—she'd forgive him. They'd made such inroads to this tough patch in their marriage lately.
He had to believe that.
They'd been given a second chance. Not many people got those. She'd recognized that once and been grateful. Now he had to trust that God would help keep them together.
Because if God wanted them together, nothing, no one, could tear them apart. Not even them.
The ride into New York City gave Jenny time to think about all that had happened the past couple of months. She was glad she'd come to some sort of resolution with her grandmother.What Phoebe had done was done and there was no going back and fixing it. Jenny had come to forgive her grandmother for contacting her father and letting him know about Jenny falling in love with Matthew.
And when she'd touched the quilt that one afternoon, the one her grandmother had sent to the hospital after Jenny was injured . . . well, that was an attempt to make things right after all those years, wasn't it? If her grandmother hadn't invited her to her home to heal, Jenny wouldn't have had a second chance with Matthew.