Harvest of Blessings (24 page)

“This is so exciting,” Rebecca said, gleefully patting Nora’s wrist. “If you’d like my help that Saturday, I can probably be there in the afternoon. I bet you’ll have a lot of business that day.”

Nora kept gazing at her lovely website, gathering strength for the favor she wanted to ask. “What I could really use is some advice,” she murmured. “I just heard some startling insinuations that make me think Hiram wants to worm his way into my business. He, um, has guessed that I’m a little short on cash flow—”

“And he’s a genius at manipulating such situations to his own advantage.” Rebecca’s tone suggested that the mention of Knepp’s name had put a bad taste in her mouth. “You’ve probably heard how he tried to take over Mamma’s café, and how my English dad prevented that from happening by becoming her landlord.”

“It’ll probably take something that radical to keep Hiram out of my hair, too,” Nora said with a sigh. “But I hate to ask a total stranger to—”

“No, no, don’t look at it that way,” Rebecca insisted as she grabbed Nora’s hand. “I’ve told Dad about the store you’re opening. He’s predicted you’ll draw so much more tourist traffic to Willow Ridge that Miriam might need to consider enlarging the Sweet Seasons.”

Nora’s eyes widened. “Well, I like the sound of that, but I still hesitate to—”

“Dad
loves
this little town,” Rebecca interrupted earnestly. “He partners with Derek Shotwell, the banker in New Haven. I think both of them would have an interest in keeping Simple Gifts financially secure. A lot of families here bank with Derek, so both men are dedicated to seeing that Willow Ridge doesn’t go down the primrose path the way Higher Ground and Hiram’s other undertakings have. Just a second.”

Rebecca grabbed her phone and hit a speed dial button. “Dad, hi!” she said. “What’s up for supper tonight? Nora Landwehr—the gal who’s opening the consignment shop?—has an interesting business situation you might want to consider. Can you join us?”

When Rebecca raised her eyebrows, silently asking if Nora was
in
, Nora nodded quickly. Rebecca winked at her as she chatted with her dad for a few moments more.

Who knew?
Nora mused. In the blink of an eye, she was making a connection she wouldn’t have attempted alone. The New Haven banker’s involvement eased her mind, too—although she doubted Rebecca’s father would be difficult to deal with. Miriam seemed totally independent, as far as the way she handled her business. That’s what Nora wanted, too.

“Awesome! We’ll see you at the pizza place in New Haven in half an hour . . . love you, too, Dad.” Rebecca clicked her phone off. “Let’s see what he says, Nora. I hope I didn’t just rearrange your Friday night.”

Nora laughed, letting out the breath she’d been holding. “You’re
amazing
, Rebecca. How can I ever repay the favor you’ve just done me?”

“Oh, I’m not promising that my dad will help you,” she said as she cleared her desk. “But he’ll listen to your concerns. He’ll have ideas about how to keep Hiram’s paws off you and your store.”

Nora nodded, deeply relieved—even though her fight with Luke had merely
suggested
things Hiram might try. But forewarned was forearmed. She was still upset at Luke for jumping to conclusions about her relationship with the devious ex-bishop, but maybe he’d handed her the key to remaining her own woman. It was a gift she’d thank Luke for—one of these days when the red haze of misunderstanding between them had dissipated.

 

 

That evening as Nora prepared for bed, she felt a new sense of hope. Rebecca’s dad, Bob Oliveri, was a middle-aged fellow with a business sense she truly admired. He was going to talk with Derek Shotwell about setting up business insurance for her store, with provisions for backup funding if ever she needed it. He’d seemed genuinely happy to help her thwart Hiram before the bishop could undermine her financial security.

“Hiram can spot a tiny hole beside your fence and burrow into your life before you realize it—and before you realize he has no real power to control you,” Bob had said. “The bank’s backing, and my involvement with your store, are as much about your peace of mind as your financial security, Nora.”

As she slipped between the sheets, Nora gave thanks for the new friend she’d made over a pizza. Bob was right: Hiram had power only because vulnerable women believed he did. Bob had no interest in owning her barn or getting involved in the day-to-day operation of her store. He was simply investing in her success and in the future of Willow Ridge. Nora believed in him. His smile and firm handshake had assured her that he was as gratified by this transaction as she was.

Here’s another gift You’ve given me, Lord
, Nora prayed as she settled into the mattress.
Your hand has been leading me all along, and it’s time I said yes to Your call. I’ll speak to the preacher Sunday about being baptized into Your fellowship of believers. Denki for Your patience while I figured all this out.

When Nora pulled into her driveway Sunday afternoon, her head buzzed with the discussion she’d had with Preacher Stephen Zimmerman while her heart still sang the hymns from the church service. She entered the kitchen and kicked off her shoes, delighting in the coolness of the linoleum floor as it seeped into her bare feet. She felt ravenous yet too excited to eat.

There was no backing out. She was to be baptized next Sunday!

Nora leaned into the open fridge, grasping a pitcher of lemonade as she searched for something quick to eat—

Nora went to answer it and nearly dropped her pitcher. On her front porch stood her father and mother, Millie, and Lizzie and Atlee. “Um—come on in!” she stammered as she unhooked the screen. “I just got home from church. Wasn’t expecting company.”

Millie stepped inside with a lidded rectangular pan. “This is a visiting Sunday for us—”

“And we’ve had quite a lot to visit about,” Lizzie chimed in as she carried little Ella in her padded basket.

“
Jah
, can’t recall the last time all of us sat around the dinner table together,” Mamma remarked happily. She handed Nora a platter of brownies covered with waxed paper. “We’re hopin’ you’ll join us for supper tonight, Nora, so it’ll truly be
all
of us together.”

Nora’s heart stood still. Did she dare believe she’d be
welcome
at her parents’ table? The brownies smelled
sooo
good. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

“We’ve got a big watermelon chillin’ in a dishpan of ice, and Bishop Tom said he’d bring the ice cream.” Millie sighed with pleasure as she gazed around the front room. “Your place is so pretty, Mamma. Your hangings must be in the shop now,
jah
?”

“They are,” Nora replied. Then she held up the pitcher. “Lemonade, anyone?”

Millie and Lizzie joined Nora in the kitchen to fill the glasses, their faces alight with a surprise. Nora was dying to know what this visit was all about, yet she didn’t want to ask too many questions too soon. Instinct told her to let the conversation play itself out in its own good time. When she caught a whiff of the frosted banana bars Millie was setting out on a serving plate, Nora snatched one and jammed it into her mouth.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she chewed. “This is my dinner—”

“Then have one of Mammi’s brownies, too,” Millie insisted as she held one up. “Ya don’t want to be fallin’ over in a faint when ya hear what Dawdi’s come to say.”

Nora’s eyebrows flew up as she polished off the banana bar. Then she savored the rich cocoa flavor of a brownie that tasted exactly as she remembered from her childhood. Rich and chewy, with walnut chunks. As they passed the glasses of lemonade to everyone and started the goodies around, she took a seat on the couch. Was she getting her hopes up too high? Or were her dearest prayers about to be answered?

As Nora told Ella how pretty her yellow dress was and chatted for a bit with Lizzie, she felt her father watching her. She didn’t meet his gaze right off, but when a break came in the conversation, Nora looked at him. He sat in the chair nearest her end of the couch, calmly rocking forward and back. His eyes were clear behind his rimless glasses and his beard looked clean and fluffy. He was still awfully thin, but he seemed stronger—mentally alert, and taking his time about speaking to her.

Finally Nora could stand the suspense no longer. “It’s
gut
to see you looking so healthy, Dat,” she said. “Much better than when you were riding in Andy Leitner’s wagon with hoses up your nose and hooked to your arm.”

Her father smiled. “Amazing, what that little breathin’ contraption on my bedside table has accomplished,” he said in a clear voice. “When your mother and Millie and Bishop Tom told me what-all I’d been doin’ and sayin’ every time ya came around me, I was—well, I honestly can’t recall a lot of it. That’s no excuse. But it tells ya how far gone I was . . . in more ways than one, Nora.”

Nora sucked in her breath.
Dat had spoken her name!
He was gazing at her, showing no signs of rancor or rebuke. “I’m glad Andy checked you out when he did—”

“I’ve come to ask your forgiveness. Daughter.”

Nora blinked rapidly and swallowed hard. Everyone in the room was focused on her and Dat, gripping their glasses. Holding their treats instead of eating them.

“This doesn’t come so easy for an old fella who’s set in his ways,” her father went on in a voice that sounded raspy with nerves. “I spent most of the morning apologizin’ to these other folks in our family. I know Jesus has expected much better of me than I’ve been givin’ to any of them.”

Dat sighed, gripping the arms of the wooden rocking chair. “I stared death in the face a couple times while I was out of my head—knowin’ I was by myself in that house because I’d gotten too cranky for your dear mother to tolerate me,” he murmured. “That’s when God reminded me how He struck Saul down in the road and blinded him for persecutin’ Christians. Said He could just as well knock the stuffin’ out of me for treatin’ folks so mean and hateful.”

Her mother leaned closer to squeeze Dat’s arm. “But it’s forgiven and forgotten now, Gabe. That’s the grace of Jesus at work.”

Dat patted Mamma’s hand. “I’m lucky. I got another chance to make amends before I go.” He focused on Nora again, his expression rueful. “I vaguely recall spewin’ at ya in the café, Nora, callin’ ya the Devil’s own name. And I’m sorry I did that. Real sorry.”

Nora swiped at the tears that were streaming down her face. “Well, I did show up from out of nowhere and sort of backed you into a corner,” she murmured.

“And I spouted off again, that Sunday Bishop Tom told me I was to repent,” he went on with a sigh. “Don’t remember what-all I said, but it was surely as uncalled-for as the other vinegar I spat at ya.”

“Apology accepted,” Nora replied in a tiny voice.

“But I’m not done yet!” her
dat
insisted. He sucked in a deep breath, gazing around the circle of people who sat with them. “I realize now that I spent sixteen years of my life shuttin’ ya out, believin’ ya to be responsible for the baby ya carried,” he admitted sadly. “When Lizzie and your
mamm
told me what Tobias Borntreger had done—how he swore ya to secrecy and said ya were goin’ to hell if ya told anybody about him, well—”

Her father’s head dropped so his chin nearly hit his chest. As he removed his glasses to wipe them with his handkerchief, Nora realized the lenses were wet.

“I had to chew on that for a while,” Dat continued.

“Part of me had never understood why ya refused to name the fella who got ya in trouble. Since everybody’s been insistin’ these past few days that it really was Tobias, I’ve had to adjust my thinkin’. A
lot
.”

“I’m sure you did,” Nora murmured. The tightness was slowly leaving her body. Her heart was pounding but it no longer throbbed painfully. It was more like the gentle meter of the hymns she’d sung this morning, keeping a steady, reassuring beat as her father’s words came through. “As I’ve thought more about it, I’ve realized you reacted like any Old Order
dat
would’ve—”

“
Jah
, but I felt like I’d been stabbed with a knife, straight through my heart, Nora, all those years I didn’t know where ya were . . . how ya were doin’,” Dat said, covering his nerves with a cough. “When I insisted that no one ever speak your name again, it was mostly because I was . . . afraid to hear it. Afraid I’d back down from a decision that went along with our ways, because what I’d done to ya caused me more pain than I could talk about.”

Nora’s eyes widened. In all the times she’d imagined her father offering his forgiveness, she hadn’t expected him to reveal his emotions this way. Gabe Glick had never been known to go soft about
anything
.

“So I’ve come to say that I really can’t forgive ya, Nora—”

Her heart clutched painfully. Had this discussion been a cruel joke? An act, to suck her in?

“—because it wasn’t you who committed the sin,” Dat went on doggedly. “But ya asked, so I do forgive whatever ya feel needs forgivin’. And I—I hope you’ll return the favor to an old man who stands corrected about a lot of mistaken assumptions, for a lot of wasted years.”

“Oh, Dat.” When Nora mopped her face with the back of her hand, she noticed that she wasn’t the only one in the room who was crying. She set her glass on the coffee table and knelt on the floor, gazing up into her father’s wrinkled face as she grasped his hands. “I forgive you, too, Dat. I want us to let go of the mistakes we made and start fresh.”

He gripped her fingers, breathing in ragged bursts. Mamm and Millie and Lizzie were blowing their noses. Even Atlee sat wide-eyed and silent, too moved to watch her and Dat.

Time felt suspended. Nora knew she would recall this pivotal moment for the rest of her life.
Years
she had longed for her family’s acceptance and her father’s change of heart, and today—thanks to God’s grace and Andy’s medical attention—she had received so much more than she’d asked for.

Dat stroked her hands with his leathery thumbs. He seemed as overwhelmed by this momentous occasion as she was, even as the deep lines of his face relaxed into a smile. “We’ve invited Tom and Nazareth, and Ben and Miriam, to join us for supper tonight,” he said. “I’m gonna ask them if I can do my kneelin’ confession next Sunday, rather than lettin’ another month of shunnin’ separate me from my family.”

“I think Bishop Tom’ll go along with that,” Nora whispered. “He’s a very forgiving man.”

“We’re hopin’ you’ll come to church with us that mornin’, Nora,” her mother said. “The calendar says August, but to me it feels more like Easter—a resurrection of your
dat
’s true spirit.”

Nora withered inside. After so much positive momentum had brought her family together again, she hated to hesitate with her answer. Should she postpone her baptism? Or should she disappoint her parents?

Lizzie leaned forward. “Has somethin’ else come up, Nora?” she asked. “A cloud just shadowed the sunshine on your face.”

Sighing, Nora decided to tell the truth—to reveal who she was and who she was becoming. “Next Sunday I’m to be baptized into the Mennonite fellowship in Morning Star,” she murmured. “Preacher Stephen and I believe I’m ready.”

This time the silence wasn’t as awe-inspiring as the earlier moments they’d shared, yet no one appeared upset, either. “
Jah
, you’ve said that branch of the faith fits ya better than our Amish beliefs do,” her mother remarked.

Dat squeezed her hands a little harder. “It’s not what I’ve been prayin’ for,” he murmured, “but after all your years of livin’ amongst the English—and after the way Tobias played ya so false when ya were barely Millie’s age—I’m just glad you’re returnin’ to Plain ways.”

“I—I could ask Preacher Stephen to postpone my baptism to the next Sunday,” Nora stammered. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if—”

“Stick with your plan, Daughter,” Dat said with a nod. “None of us knows when Jesus might call us home. If I’ve been reinstated into the church’s
gut
graces and you’ve been saved, we’re both better off. Readier for the Judgment Day.”

Nora let out the breath she’d been holding. While thoughts of death and judgment were far from her mind, her father’s sentiment made sense. And it made peace with the differences in the faiths they each embraced. “ That’s a
gut
way to look at it,” Nora replied. “
Denki
for understanding why I want to follow a different path.”

“Even if you stayed English, you’d still be our Nora,” Mamma spoke up in a shaky voice. “After watchin’ how Miriam’s embraced her Rebecca, even though she’ll never be Plain, I can do no less. God brought ya back to us, and I won’t turn away His gift because of a few religious differences.”

“That says it all, Mamma,” Nora murmured. “I can’t add a single thing.”

As Luke gazed out the open window of the apartment above the mill, he braced himself for Ira’s return. His younger brother was coming home from supper at the Glick place, walking alongside Nora as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As their laughter drifted up to him on the evening breeze, Luke kicked himself yet again.

When Nora and his brother reached the intersection of the county blacktop and Bishop’s Ridge Road, they slung their arms around each other in parting. Luke bristled. There was nothing romantic about their gesture, but the carefree nature of their loose embrace sent envy through him like a jagged lightning bolt.

Soon Ira opened and closed the mill door downstairs. As he took the steps two at a time, he called out, “Should’ve been there, Luke. Everybody asked where ya were.”