Brush of Angel's Wings (17 page)

Rachel stared at the rain draining off Jordan's hat and falling on his broad shoulders.

He turned without saying anything and went into the house.

Rachel tilted her face upward, allowing the warm rain to dilute her tears. “He's hurting. I see the pain in his eyes, God.”

Nathaniel chanted prayers that only his Master understood. Transparent light radiated within him. In a chorus of echoes, he said, “His ears are open to your prayers, child.”

Rachel splashed through the mud as she ran to the clothesline. She grabbed the basket, leaving the other items on the line, and ran into the house.

Mamm
entered the sitting room, looked at Rachel's shoes, and wagged her head in disapproval.

Before she opened her mouth with her well-meaning, future-
fraa
instructions, Rachel acknowledged her shortcoming. “
Jah
, I know.” She had tracked the muddy trail from the door to the sofa. “I'll mop the floor.”

Mamm
bent down and lifted the dress from the top of the pile. “This isn't too wet,” she said, feeling several areas of the garment before spreading it over a chair in front of the woodstove.

“I think most of them were dry before it started to rain.” Rachel pulled Jordan's shirt from the basket and studied it. She'd been so concerned about getting the coffee stain out, she hadn't thought about checking his pockets.

“Lord, show me how to make it up to Jordan,” Rachel mumbled.

“Why? He's the one who was irresponsible and left the stuff in his own pocket.” Tangus wedged himself between her and the woodstove. “You don't even know what was in there. Probably nothing important—like Kayla's cell phone or some other worldly treasure. What else would have any meaning to Jordan?” Tangus exhaled, and ash dust from the wood-stove blew out the cast iron door and fluttered to the floor.

Mamm
snapped a towel, then spread it over a stool. “I thought we could make potato soup tonight. You could make a rhubarb pie. Afterward I'll read you Iva's and Fanny's letters. Have you written to them lately?”

“
Jah
. I send a letter once every few days.”

Rachel took some of the drier pieces from the basket to fold. “Did you know that Jordan's
mamm
died?”

Mamm
straightened the towel over the stool.
“Jah.”

“Has he said anything to you about it?”

“I didn't want to pry.” She pulled the stool closer to the woodstove. “I've wanted him to feel at home here. He can speak or not as he pleases, so long as it isn't dishonoring God.”

Rachel's throat dried. She swallowed hard. Since his arrival, she certainly hadn't made him feel welcome. “I'll bring some rhubarb in after I mop the floors.” This time she would add sugar. Perhaps he might view it as an apology.

“Your heavenly Father is pleased.” Nathaniel's brilliance magnified.

Tangus contorted his body to avoid the light reflecting off Nathaniel's bronze form. As the heavenly host sang praises, Tangus collapsed on the floor. Spread sheet-thin, Tangus disappeared under the door crack.

Rachel hurried through the afternoon chores and took great care preparing the evening meal and the rhubarb pie. It wouldn't be long before Jordan and
Daed
would have the milking finished.

Mamm
stood at the window. “It looks like the Davys are here to retrieve their horse.”

Rachel stopped stirring the soup and stood on her toes next to her mother. She smiled. With the horse gone, Kayla would have no reason to pay Jordan any more visits.

Pepper balked and backed away from the trailer. His head up high, eyes wide, he pawed the ground. She wondered why anyone would want such a green, high-strung horse for their daughter.

The heavy scent of garlic drew her away from the window to check the progress of the biscuits. She jabbed a fork into the dough. A few more minutes and they'd be ready. Rachel filled the kettle with water to heat for coffee.

“The horse is loaded.”
Mamm
pulled away from the window and went to the cabinet.

“Finally,” Rachel said, setting out the plates and silverware.

Mamm
brought out four cups and set them on the counter. “Don't forget to check your biscuits.”

Rachel pulled the biscuits from the oven and slid them from the cookie sheet to a plate. Golden brown and still soft—just how she'd hoped. She breathed in the savory aroma.

The outside door opened and closed, and a single set of footsteps entered the kitchen. Rachel glanced over her shoulder at her father.

“Where's Jordan?”

Daed
sat. “He's gone to help unload the Davys' horse.”

Rachel's smile faded. She brushed her hands on her apron. “We can keep a plate warm for him.”

“Don't look for him to
kumm
back. He asked to be released.”

Chapter Twelve

R
achel scooped a can full of oats from the grain barrel and poured them into the feed bucket. Her father hadn't said anything since he started milking. His quietness, no doubt, had to do with Jordan leaving yesterday. Rachel wanted to apologize for the way she'd treated Jordan, but the more she dwelled on his leaving with Kayla, the more determined she became that they didn't need him.
She
didn't need him. And once she and
Daed
had the fields done,
Daed
would realize it too.

She poured grain into Clyde's feed bucket, adding extra to his portion because he would have a hard day pulling the stumps out of the field. She spoke to her father while she scratched Clyde on his withers. There was no way to know what was truly bothering her father unless she asked. “Something wrong,
Daed
?”

He lifted his head from resting it against the cow's side. “It's nothing the Lord can't handle.”

“If you're upset about Jordan leaving, I'll do the fieldwork. We worked together before.”

Daed
pulled the bucket out from under the cow and stood. “
Nay
, Rachel.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “I'm
nett
concerned about the fieldwork. I can hire other help. I'm concerned about Jordan. His heart is troubled, and I sense he's running from God.”

Rachel bowed her head, even more ashamed that she'd pushed Jordan to leave. She squeezed her eyes closed.
Lord, forgive
mei
poor actions. Don't let Jordan run far. He needs to know your peace and he won't know that until he surrenders to you
.

Nathaniel hummed as she prayed. He delighted in hearing her petition for forgiveness. “Child, this peace you are asking for your friend can also be yours when you surrender the guilt you harbor around your brother's death. It was not your hand that chose the hour of James's death any more than you placed the stars in the sky.”

Daed
beckoned her. “
Kumm
. Let's see what your
mamm
has cooked for us.”

Rachel forced a smile and followed him out of the barn.

When they entered the house, a mixed aroma of coffee and sausage drifted from the kitchen.
Daed
doffed his hat and placed it on the hook. Rachel slipped out of her barn boots.

“Miriam, I hope that's your biscuits and sausage gravy I smell.”
Daed
entered the kitchen patting his flat belly. He came up behind
Mamm
, placed one arm around her waist, and looked over her shoulder to peer into the pot.
“Mei fraa.”
He kissed her cheek. “You know how much I love biscuits and gravy.”

“After twenty-eight years I should, ain't so?”

Rachel pretended not to notice their affection as she poured the coffee.
Daed
hadn't always been so forward with his feelings.

Rachel set the coffee cups on the table while
Mamm
piled the biscuits on a plate. Once seated, they prayed a silent grace.

When Rachel opened her eyes, she noticed the empty chair that in a short time had become Jordan's place. She missed his grin, his hearty appetite, and the different faces he made trying to disguise his reaction to her cooking.

Mamm
sprinkled her gravy with pepper, then passed the shaker to Rachel. “I plan to send a package of baked goods and some extra yardage of material to Fanny and Iva. Would you like to add a letter, Rachel?”

“I have one started. Are you taking the package into town today?”

“Tomorrow. Sadie's bringing her letter and is planning to stay with us and sew clothes for the
boppli
today.”

She'd forgotten about the planned sewing day. Rachel swallowed the biscuit. “Without Jordan here,
Daed
needs help in the field.” She faced her father, silently pleading for approval.

“You can stay and sew today,” he said.

“
Nay
. If we can get the dead stumps pulled out of the field, we can start planting.”

Daed
cleared his throat. “I told you. I will hire someone to help me.”

“Until then, you need help, ain't so?”

After a long pause,
Daed
finally answered. “
Jah
, I suppose so.”

Rachel hurried to finish eating. She wouldn't risk loitering at the table with a second cup of coffee. The sooner she harnessed Clyde, the sooner she could prove to her father that they didn't need to hire a field hand.

Rachel took the dirty dishes to the sink and started the dishwater.

“What's the rush?”
Daed
sipped his coffee.

Rachel glanced over her shoulder. “We need an early start,
jah
?”

He waved his hand at her. “
Jah
, but we have enough time for a second cup of
kaffi
.” He turned to
Mamm
. “What do you think of that? She's going to have me in the field all day.”

Mamm
handed him the cookie jar. “Then you'd better have a cookie
nau
.”

Rachel finished clearing the table as
Daed
jammed a few of the cookies into his pocket.

“Don't forget they are in your pocket. I don't want my wash water full of cookie crumbs.”

Rachel winced. She wished she'd checked Jordan's pockets.

Daed
wasn't in a hurry to finish his coffee. Rachel went to the front door, and while slipping into her boots, she overheard
Mamm
say, “Have a talk with her, Micah. A girl her age should not work so much in the field.”

Rachel worried
Mamm
would change
Daed's
mind about allowing her to work with him. She needed to get out to the barn before that happened. Rachel slipped out of the house and scurried into the barn.

Nathaniel stepped out from the corner of the barn as the door opened. Rachel nearly stumbled over the cat.

Smokey rubbed against Rachel's legs.

“
Nett nau
, Smokey. I need to get Clyde ready for the field.” Smokey weaved between her legs. She squatted down. After a few strokes when Smokey stretched to meet her hand, Rachel scooped him into her arms. She scratched behind his ears and listened to his purr.

“I need to get to work,” she told him, lowering him to the floor.

“Don't rush things, child,” Nathaniel warned.

Rather than heed the prompting of her subconscious, she brushed the cat hair off the front of her dress while heading to the horse stall.

“Open your ears and you shall hear. Listen, and I shall lead you with sound judgment in all your actions.”

Rachel peeked over the gate. “Hello, Clyde.”

He lifted his head and perked his ears. The draft horse moved in Rachel's direction and, towering over the girl, nuzzled her head covering. “Clyde, you silly boy!” she said, gently nudging his nose with one hand and using the other to hold her prayer
kapp
in place. She gave his cheekbone a rub before leaving to fetch his harness from the tack area. Once in hand, she slipped inside Clyde's stall with the gear. Humming softly, she fastened the harness on the gentle giant, then led him outside, tying him to the hitching post.

She returned to the barn to get the chains. Jordan and
Daed
had talked about pulling the dead tree stumps out of the ground using chains, so she'd get those and bring them along. She located the rusty chains hanging on heavy-duty hooks near some other equipment. She lifted them off the hooks a strand at a time. As she draped them over her shoulders, she found they were heavier than she imagined they would be. Each chain link was not all that thick. But together they caused her to sag under the weight of them. Once outside, she draped them over Clyde to let him carry them out to the field.

She was ready, and
Daed
still hadn't come outside. She put her hand up to shade her eyes from the bright sun. She watched the house for a few moments, tapping her foot rapidly on the ground.