An Amish Family Reunion (9 page)

Phoebe and Mary exchanged a laugh and quickly fell in stride with the others. As they wound their way to the boat dock, the crowd made it difficult for the group to stay together. Fortunately, their Plain clothing made it easy to find one another. Phoebe didn’t know where to gaze first—the Niagara River, the flower gardens and interpretive displays, or the tourists from all over the world. Because everyone dressed in their own native costumes and talked in foreign tongues, no one looked twice at an Amish group chattering in Pennsylvania
Deutsch
. As Phoebe followed the person in front of her, sheeplike, her head swung from left to right like a pendulum.

Nothing, however, compared to the excitement of the boat trip. After boarding, Phoebe and Mary ran for spots toward the front. Covered from head-to-toe in plastic, they clung to the rail as the boat pulled away from the dock and motored through the waves. A voice over a loudspeaker announced they were approaching the American Falls. Phoebe smiled so much her face began to hurt. On both sides of the American Falls, myriad seagulls roosted on the rocks or on narrow ledges of the precipice.

“I’m here to make sure you girls don’t go for a swim,” shouted a voice over the roar of water. Eli wriggled in between them insistently and wrapped an arm around both sets of shoulders.

“Who are you?” asked Mary, trying unsuccessfully to shield her face from the spray.

“Eli Riehl, a friend of Phoebe’s.”

He seemed unconcerned that his head was already soaking wet. Although he wore a raincoat, his hood flapped down his back. The droplets of water on his suntanned cheeks made him look only more handsome, while Phoebe feared she’d assumed the appearance of a drowned rat.
A friend of Phoebe’s?
That was a bit of an overstatement, but somehow having him close made her feel secure.

“My name is Mary, and I can’t swim.”

“With me here that won’t be a problem.” He smiled at her before turning his attention to Phoebe. “What do you think of the cruise so far?”

They were almost at the farthest reach of their voyage—the base of the Canadian Horseshoe Falls. Phoebe turned her face up to his, catching the spray and hearing the roar of three thousand tons of water falling every second. The stalwart
Maid of the Mist
pitched in the roll of waves, throwing Phoebe against Eli’s chest. “I love it, Eli! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life!” she shouted over the din as excitement swelled her heart to near bursting. The crowd behind them jostled up to get a better view.

“My sentiments exactly,” he agreed but waited two seconds before focusing on the mountain of cascading water. For several minutes the ship’s captain fought the strong current to remain where they were in the watery vortex. “Look there,” demanded Eli close to her ear.

Her gaze followed his index finger to a rainbow, tall as a skyscraper, appearing in the mist as though heaven itself had opened a portal. “Oh, my. This keeps getting better and better.” Phoebe didn’t care that cold water ran down her chin and dripped inside the coat. It didn’t matter that her shoes and socks were wet, or that her scalp itched from her soggy
kapp
. She had never enjoyed herself this much before.

Unfortunately, the boat eventually gunned the engines to begin the voyage back to the dock. Once conversation became possible again, Eli entertained Phoebe and Mary with trivia he’d memorized from a tourist magazine on the ride from Ohio.

Mary stared at him with wide-eyed wonder.

Phoebe found herself doing the same exact thing.

“Did you know that four of the five Great Lakes drain into the Niagara River?” he asked. “And that these lakes make up a fifth of the fresh water in the world?” Both girls shook their heads solemnly. “That’s a lot of drinking water. Folks visiting here from desert countries must stand in awe.”

“That’s what I was doing at Horseshoe Falls,” said Phoebe. “And I come from Ohio—a state with plenty of fresh water.”

Mary peppered Eli with questions, which he seemed delighted to answer, while Phoebe stared at the power of nature with reverence. Only an awesome God could create something like this. But all too soon the thirty-minute boat trip was over. She would gladly have gone again if the line hadn’t become twice as long.

“Whew, that was like wearing a big trash bag,” Eli said, pulling his poncho over his head. He helped both girls remove their protective coverings and stuffed them all in the recycle bin. “Where to now, ladies?” he asked, looking at Phoebe.

“Let’s walk out onto the observation deck,” answered Mary, taking Phoebe’s hand. “It’ll be the closest we’ll get to Canada during the vacation.”

Phoebe complied, secretly rejoicing when Eli followed them into the elevator up to the street level. But once they ventured onto the extended platform, one hundred seventy-five feet above the river, she regretted her decision. They stood with nothing but air and water beneath their feet. Peering over the rail at Canada on the opposite cliff made her dizzy. She didn’t even need to look down.

“Easy, Phoebe. Don’t go fainting on me, not after the price we paid for this trip.”

“I’ve had enough of this attraction,” she mumbled weakly. “Apparently, I don’t like heights. Who knew that living in Holmes County?”

“Hang onto me and close your eyes.” Eli took her arm and practically carried her off the observation deck.

“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later,” called Mary. “I want a turn with those telescoping viewers.” She scampered away, unaffected by the strong breeze or the crowd jostling from all sides.

“That worked out well,” he murmured, leading Phoebe back onto solid ground.

Instead of asking what he’d meant by that, she concentrated on not throwing up and ruining her afternoon. She trailed Eli, breathing deeply through her mouth. He led her to a shady grove of tall trees, where people sat resting on blankets or enjoying picnic lunches. Without asking first, he bought them each a giant soft pretzel from a passing cart. She devoured hers to settle her stomach.

“Are you up for a trolley ride over to Goat Island?” he asked as they sat on a park bench finishing their pretzels. “I’d love to see the view from Terrapin Point.” Eli unfolded his park map to point out their destination.

Phoebe leaned over his arm to study the island. Indeed, Terrapin Point would be the best place to view Horseshoe Falls. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Fortified from the snack, she jumped to her feet, refusing to be sick her first time away from home.

“I know a great spot to board the trolley that is less crowded than in front of the visitor center.”

She didn’t ask how he knew this, but his information proved to be correct. He took her hand and they ran up the walkway, through the botanical gardens, and along the trail toward the pedestrian bridge. He didn’t seem affected by her, but Eli’s touch had a profound impact on Phoebe. She’d never held hands with a man before—and she liked it.

On the scenic trolley they learned from the driver they could get off and on as much as they liked during a twenty-four-hour period. After squeezing into a single seat, Phoebe clutched his arm as the trolley rattled across the bridge over the upper rapids. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this much water. I wonder what the early pioneers thought when they discovered this place.”

“I hope they didn’t find out about the falls the hard way—in a canoe or a rowboat. Out for a nice afternoon paddle to see where it takes them and
whoosh
.” Eli lifted one eyebrow wryly.

Phoebe shook her head to dispel the image. Once they exited the trolley, Phoebe and Eli ran down the hundred steps like young children to join a throng of international tourists lined up for photographs at Terrapin Point. Neither of them spoke. Both simply stared, breathing in the magic of a force beyond all but God’s comprehension.

When other eager sightseers finally elbowed them from their premier positions, Eli and Phoebe chose the sidewalk leading upriver. They took turns reading aloud from the booklet describing other attractions. Phoebe placed a star by those they absolutely couldn’t miss. The farther they wandered away from the falls, the thinner the crowds became. “Where are we heading?” she asked, curious but not concerned.

“Three Sisters Islands.” He folded back his map to show her. “How ’bout that idea? I would love to leave three of my five sisters there.”

“It’s not too far away?”

“Nah, half a mile ahead. Plus, there’s a trolley stop nearby to take us back.” He peered at her from under his sheaf of hair.

She giggled. “Did you memorize
everything
on that map in the brochure?”

“Actually, I did. I was so excited about this trip.”

Something tightened around Phoebe’s heart. Here was a man unafraid to reveal himself. “Me too. I could hardly sleep at night. I was so nervous my dad would change his mind and forbid me from going.”

“I’m glad he didn’t. You’re much more fun to hang with than the average tourist.” He winked shamelessly as they started down the narrow path to the first of three bridges to Three Sisters Islands. On the third and largest of the tiny islands, they discovered a sun-baked boulder—a perfect spot to view the upper rapids.

Once they’d settled down, huddling together far from the edge, Phoebe asked in a soft voice, “What was I doing the day you followed me at the fund-raising auction?”

Eli’s focus remained on the river. “Don’t you remember? You walked up the hill behind the barn and sat drawing horses that were in the neighbor’s pasture. I was dying to see if your drawings were any good, but then you would know I’d stalked you.” He laughed easily. Nothing seemed to make this man nervous or uncomfortable.

Phoebe reflected on this as she pulled out her drawing tablet. She had tucked it into the waistband of her skirt, under her full-length apron to keep it dry. “Want to look now and judge for yourself?”

Eli met her eye and took the pad. Slowly, he perused each of the sketches contained within. Some were older works she’d completed while babysitting for her cousin’s sons. Eli smiled at the antics of toddlers at play. But when he arrived at her illustrations of his story about Miss Taylor, his eyes grew very round. He stared at them, fascinated, while Phoebe held her breath.

Never had a human being’s opinion mattered so much to her. She barely knew Eli Riehl, yet it seemed the rest of her life hung by the slender thread of his approval. She practically passed out waiting for him to finish. “Well?” she asked, sounding as insecure as she felt.

Eli shut the tablet. “They are…incredible, Phoebe. You have talent that’s far beyond what I’d expected. I was all set to flatter you politely because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But these? Phoebe Miller, where did you learn to draw like this?”

Phoebe gasped a bit raggedly. “Same place you learned how to spin a good yarn.”

His mouth thinned into a crooked line. “Fair enough, but talking is something we pick up as
kinner
. Not too many folks learn to draw like this.” Eli peered at her final rendering of a white-as-snow cat and then at the turbulent water. “I bet you’d like to draw this view, but we had better start back. My stomach tells me it’s getting close to dinnertime. And my belly is more reliable than any pocket watch.” He helped her up and they started back across the three narrow bridges tenuously connecting tuffs of land to the State of New York. They didn’t hurry, nor did they worry when the trolley took a long time to arrive. With the excitement of new friendship, they chatted about one subject after another. And when the trolley finally completed its circuit and deposited them at the state park archway—the appointed pickup location—it took Phoebe quite a while to realize their bus was long gone. Then tears flooded her eyes, threatening to ruin her new, grown-up mystique.
What was Dad’s number-one command? Don’t let yourself become separated from the group
.

Eli Riehl gently lifted her trembling chin with one finger. “I didn’t let you and Mary fall out and drown on the boat ride, did I?”

Unable to speak, she shook her head no.

“Then trust me when I say I won’t let you miss supper our first night in New York.”

L
eah Miller Byler had had a bad feeling all morning. She wasn’t sick—far from it. Because the humidity had broken last night with the rain, she felt extra peppy. No, it was a creepy kind of feeling, like the time she ventured out to the barn looking for Jonah after dark. Suddenly, the door had swung shut behind her and all the mice decided to come out to play just when the batteries in her flashlight died. As they had that night, the little hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end since she’d woken up this morning.

Grossdawdi
refused to eat his scrambled eggs at breakfast. He said he never ate eggs with “stuff chopped up and thrown in.”

“Since when?” Joanna asked. “You’ve always loved my ham-onion-and-cheese omelets.”

“No, not me. I’ve never touched the stuff in my life. You must be thinking of my brother.” Amos Burkholder sipped his coffee black, forgetting his usual cream and two sugars.

Joanna glanced at her son, who was consuming his eggs and stack of toast with jam as though the plate might disappear at any moment. “Why don’t you taste a little,
grossdawdi
?” asked Jonah. “You might find out you like them as much as your…brother does.” Jonah took a swallow of coffee and cut another portion of omelet with the spatula. Holding the eggs aloft, he winked at Leah.