Abby Finds Her Calling (35 page)

He let out a long sigh. “I’ve made a mess of your life, Zanna. Yet you’re working it out, facing up to the folks who put you down for doing what you believe is right. Mamm told me all about how folks stayed away the whole time you were under the ban. That had to be hard, thinking your friends wanted nothing more to do with you.”

Zanna’s heart thudded harder. She’d never seen Jonny so serious, had never heard him admit to making a mistake. His gaze remained riveted on hers, as though this impromptu sleigh ride had cleared his vision and firmed his resolve.

“And you helped me more than you know when we found Dat on the barn floor—even though I’d already done you so dirty,” Jonny went on in an insistent voice. “You’re making those rugs to support yourself, when you could have kept this whole thing under your kapp and married Graber.”

“I don’t love James enough to marry him,” she said. “If I’d been
truly committed to him, I wouldn’t have been seeing you that one last time. And I wouldn’t have known that I had to raise your child.”

Jonny looked away. But here within the confines of their stove box, there was no escaping. No second-guessing when it came to bringing another life into the world. “You’re so strong you make me look like a coward, running off just because Dat and I couldn’t get along.”

“Nobody else had any idea about his temper, until lately.”

“Jah, well, I was just looking for an excuse,” he admitted. “And when I saw how run-down the equipment had gotten while I was away, how old Dat was looking and how frazzled Mamm seemed—well, I can’t explain it. When I found him facedown in the barn, I knew I was partly to blame. It was a wake-up call. And then when you said the baby was mine—”

“It was a lot to pile on you, all in one day,” Zanna murmured.

“Phooey on that! Don’t make excuses for me, Zanna, because I’m plenty gut enough at making them for myself.” He looked at her with a fierceness in his eyes… something akin to fear and determination and anguish all mixed together.

And she knew how that felt, didn’t she?

Zanna cleared her throat. If she didn’t say this now, while Jonny couldn’t run from it, she might not find the nerve again. “I didn’t marry James,” she said, “because I love
you
, Jonny. I’m not saying you have to love me back, or
do
anything about my feelings, but—”

He grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her, hard. “I’m not going to listen to that kind of talk.”

And what did that mean? Would he climb out of the box and leave her? Would he escort her up to the carriage and then never speak to her again? The emotions on his face ran the full range, from anger to exhilaration, fear to despair—and Zanna wasn’t sure where she fit into that mix.

Jonny sighed and glanced up the hill. “We’d better get you back to the carriage. Seems you’ve got a lot of rugs to make and me,
well… I’m still figuring out where I fit in—or
if
I fit in. Hang with me while I get it all straight in my head. Will you do that?”

Zanna’s heart fluttered—or was that the baby, doing a little dance? She nodded, suddenly hopeful.

“Understand,” he went on, “that I will
not
come back to the same sort of stuff Dat dished out before. Nor will I let him treat Mamm that way again, either. And who knows?” He went on in a lower voice. “Maybe Dat wants no part of Gideon and me coming back. He sounded pretty set about it when he told us we weren’t his sons anymore, for not joining the church or wanting to run the dairy.”

Zanna couldn’t imagine how much the words must have hurt Jonny and Gideon, even though they’d put up a tough, rebellious front. All in all, she felt very fortunate that folks in Cedar Creek—and her own family—had accepted her decision to live outside the lines. “Maybe that will change when he sees how you boys came back to help rebuild your homeplace. From what I’ve heard, he was more seriously ill, and for a longer time, than any of us realized.”

Jonny chewed his lower lip as though he hadn’t heard her. “I know that puts you in a bind, girl—what with you already being baptized, and all. But don’t write me off, okay? I’m not making any promises, but I’m starting to see things in a different light now.”

Did she dare to hope for the best? As she and Jonny walked uphill through the powdery snow, his hand felt strong and purposeful, wrapped around hers. His mood lightened as he talked about working with Gideon again: his brother milked the cows and arranged the milk pickups, while Jonny had been repairing the machinery. He’d even improved some of the dairy’s equipment in ways he’d learned about while living among the Mennonites in Clearwater.

Zanna soaked up his confidence as they topped the hill. She caught the looks Gail and Phoebe gave her as the bishop was loading the last of their boxes into the back of the carriage. Vernon Gingerich didn’t seem surprised to see her and Jonny together. His face glowed with the cold air and his usual goodwill as he smiled at them.

“I was just telling the girls how delighted I am with our progress here,” he said, “and how surprised Adah and Rudy will be when they come home from the hospital. They still don’t know about the new house, or about these carpenters’ goal to have them in it by the first of the new year.”

“How’s that possible?” Zanna blurted. “New Year’s Day is less than two weeks from now.”

“The work is mostly indoors now. That makes it a lot easier—and warmer—for everyone who’s helping.” Vernon focused on Jonny then, as though assessing the youngest Ropp’s attitude about their project. “Our concern is that your dat will go back to working eighteen-hour days too soon,” he remarked. “Rudy’s not the sort to let other folks help him. Nor does he want to feel like a charity case.”

“You’ve got that right,” Jonny said with the hint of a smile. “Gideon and I have been fixing a lot that went undone, as far as his buildings and milking equipment go. But that’s not to say we’ll stay on once he gets home. Dat may not want us to, for one thing.”

The older man nodded. “Most of us didn’t understand that side of the situation, son. We all assumed you and your brothers were full of yourselves—rebelling against your father’s authority. But your mother set the other preachers and me straight on that score when we visited with her at the hospital.”

Jonny looked surprised that such an understanding had been reached… that the leaders of the church seemed willing to listen and to accept another side of the story.

“Matter of fact, your mamm asked us to hear her confession, there in the hospital chapel,” Vernon went on in a softer voice. “She said she was real sorry for being so thorny and opinionated—and that she’d laid it on a little heavy with you, too, Zanna. She sincerely hopes everything will be different now that Rudy’s on the mend.”

“She’s not the one who needs to be apologizing,” Jonny protested.
Then he got his attitude under control. “What I mean to say is, they might’ve put a new gadget in Dat’s chest to keep him ticking, but it’s his attitude that needs an adjustment.”

Zanna turned to hide her smile. “The pot’s calling the kettle black, maybe,” she murmured.

The bishop squeezed her shoulder, smiling with her. “It’s all about forgiveness, in the end. And sometimes the forgiveness has to come from the one who feels he or she should be receiving it,” he said quietly. “It would do your dat, and your mamm, a world of good if you stopped by the hospital to see him, Jonny. Our talking to him, as preachers, can only go so far.”

Vernon turned when somebody hollered for him to help set the bathroom cabinets in place. “Well, they’re saying I’ve lollygagged long enough. You two have a good day—and Zanna, I’m tickled to pieces about all those rugs you’ll be making. You do wonderful work. And you’re more of an inspiration than you know.”

“Well, there you have it,” Gail said as the bishop stepped inside the house. “And, Zanna, it’s all fine and dandy if you want to stay here flirting with Jonny, but I’m going home to have some lunch.”

“I’ve got to get back to work myself,” Jonny said. His expression suggested he was pleased… maybe a little amazed. “These older fellas kinda like it that us younger guys can crawl around on the floor to reach under pipes and behind tight places. I—I had no idea they’d be so generous, or so glad to have Gideon and me helping.”

“It’s your home they’re building,” Phoebe reminded him gently.

“Don’t be a stranger, Jonny,” Gail said. Then she made a point of getting inside the carriage, ready to go.

But Zanna stood watching Jonny as he walked back along the icy lane… the lanky body, stronger than it looked… the swagger in that walk, even though his talk had toned down as much as his clothing had. The blond hair hanging out the back of his stocking cap caught the afternoon sun and had a glow about it. Would her baby—his baby—look anything like Jonny Ropp? Would there come
a day when she wished Jonny hadn’t left his stamp on the child she’d vowed to raise?

Or would Jonny come around?

“Aunt Zanna!” Gail cried. “Are you going to stand there in the cold watching Jonny’s backside, or shall we get on home so we can start ripping strips for those fifteen quilts on your list? Christmas is a-comin’, you know—and it won’t wait around for
you
.”

A
fter a Christmas Eve supper of vegetable soup, Emma’s fresh bread, and gingerbread cookies she and Mamm had made, James went into the front room with his dat. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace. Emma had arranged an evergreen bough on the mantel and displayed some of the pretty Christmas cards they had received from family and friends. As he always did, Dat picked up the Bible for their nightly devotional and dropped into his favorite upholstered chair. After he had thumbed through the Good Book’s pages, he looked up at James.

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he said. “How about you read for us tonight, son? It being time for the Christmas story, I don’t want to mess it up and get your mamm in a dither. She knows all the words by heart, you see.”

“Jah, there’s that. I’ll be happy to read, Dat.” James settled into the chair on the other side of the small table, aware once again that his father wasn’t as active or as confident as he’d been even a few months ago. He glanced at the page and looked up. “You’re wanting Matthew’s version of the story, rather than the second chapter of Luke?”

“Jah. The part about the angel coming to Joseph, before the trip to Bethlehem,” his dat replied with a decisive nod. “Luke doesn’t go into that part.”

Emma came in from finishing the dishes then. She raised her eyebrows when she saw that the Bible wasn’t in their father’s lap. “James is reading tonight? You’re not feeling up to it, Dat?” she asked as she took her seat on the sofa.

“I’m perkin’ along all right, I reckon. And after that fine soup for dinner, I’ll be ready for bedtime so’s we can leave for Iva’s gut and early tomorrow.” Their father shrugged, glancing at Mamm as she, too, emerged from the kitchen. “We’ve been talking this over, your mamm and I, thinking it’s time to move into the dawdi haus, come the new year. No steps to climb that way. Easier on all of us.”

Emma glanced at James and he shrugged slightly. Although they’d talked of their parents shifting into the rooms built onto the back of the house when he and Zanna were to get married, James sensed it wasn’t a good time to quiz them about this decision. Mamm was wearing the new teal dress Abby had made her last month, and looking happier than she had for a while. And wasn’t that a Christmas gift in itself?

“Whenever you’re ready, we’ll move your bedroom furniture and your clothes downstairs,” James replied. Then he focused on the page in the Bible, getting himself into the proper frame of mind. “Dat asked for the first chapter of Matthew, starting with the eighteenth verse, which comes a bit before Mary and Joseph’s trip to Bethlehem.”

He cleared his throat and began to read. “‘Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost. Then Joseph her husband, being a just man and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privily.’”

“Just like you, James,” his father remarked with a decisive nod.
“Not wanting to make a spectacle of Zanna. Tryin’ to keep things decent and low-key even when Adah and Rudy raised such a ruckus in the mercantile and at church.”

“Hush now, Merle,” Mamm insisted. “It’s not right to interrupt while somebody’s reading God’s word.”

James glanced at Emma, who was looking frazzled after a day of packing for tomorrow’s trip. In some ways, going to Iva and Dan’s made the holiday more difficult, what with the extra planning and dealing with Dat’s forgetfulness and Mamm’s moods—and little offshoots of conversation like this one. “Thanks, Dat,” he said quietly. He didn’t care to draw too many parallels between Joseph’s behavior and his own because Zanna’s situation was different from Mary’s. “I’ll go on with Joseph’s story now, all right?”

His father nodded, satisfied. Mamm adjusted her glasses to focus on him again.

“‘But while he thought on these things, behold the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream saying Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost,’” James read with expression. “‘And she shall bring forth a son and thou shalt call his name JESUS, for he shall save his people from their sins.’”