Read Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) Online
Authors: Patrick E Craig
Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) (39 page)
R
ICHARD STOOD AT THE DRESSING-ROOM SINK,
filled his hands with cold water, and splashed it on his face. He could hear the band playing, and the volume did nothing to soothe his throbbing head. He dried his face and then looked around. The sunglasses were on a small table by the couch. He grabbed them and put them on. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his head that almost knocked him to his knees. He reached out toward the door…
He walked to the fence and stared at the scene. There were men of all ages in the group. An old man with a long white beard operated the cutter. Behind him younger men with dark beards drove the horse teams as boys walked alongside them. It seemed that the men were teaching the boys as they moved through the field, pointing to the row of hay and calling the boys’ attention to the teams of horses and machines as they walked…
The long file of machines turned the corner of the big field and came along the fence line…some of the men were singing.
“Lassen Sie ihn, der gelegen hat, seine Hand auf dem Pflug nicht sehen sich um! Presse zur Absicht! Presse Jesus Christus! Derjenige, der Christus gewinnt, wird sich mit ihm von den Toten am jüngsten Tag erheben.”
And then Richard was crying out on his hands and knees. “What does it mean? Oh, God, what is happening to me?”
“Let him who has laid his hand on the plow not look back! Press on to the goal! Press on to Jesus Christ! The one who gains Christ will rise with him from the dead on the youngest day.” Rise up and walk, My son. Your faith will make you whole.
Richard pulled himself up. He took a deep breath. He had to get out of this room. He opened the door and went out into the hall. The backstage area opened directly onto the stage. He stood while the band finished their song, and then he opened the curtain and stepped out onto the stage. Gary had just turned to check his amp, and he saw Richard standing there. Quickly he stepped over to the piano, whispered something to Deeny, and then turned back to the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a very special guest. We are going to ask him to sing for you the song that started his career and ultimately led him to Christ and to Charis Records to be our producer. Would you please welcome…Richard Sandbridge!”
The audience burst into loud and sustained applause. Richard felt a sense of desperation begin to crawl over him, like a fever chill. Then he heard another voice.
Play the song. Today is the day of your salvation.
Peace like a river washed over him. In a daze he moved to the piano. Deeny got up and made room for him. As he sat down, the keyboard looked strange and unfamiliar. He wanted his guitar, but then his hands were on the keys and he was nodding to Gary. The first chords flowed from his hands, and the band joined in. The sax player lifted up the familiar melody to the intro.
Jenny rushed out the door of the club with Jeremy close behind her. He caught up and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.
“Jenny, where are you going? I thought…”
Jenny looked at his strained face, and then like a beautiful ray of sun breaking through dark clouds, the answer came to her.
“I can’t, Jeremy.”
“Can’t what, Jenny?”
“I can’t marry you. Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t see. Help me understand, Jenny.”
Behind her, Jenny heard footsteps on the sidewalk. She looked and it was Bobby.
“Everything all right, Jenny?”
“Just give me a minute, Uncle Bobby, and then we’ll go.”
She turned back to Jeremy. “I can’t marry you because I don’t love you. At least I don’t love you that way. You deserve a woman who will cherish you, who will love you completely, who will be one heart with you. And I can’t do that.”
“But why, Jenny? I don’t understand.”
“When I was in the hospital the day my parents died, my papa passed first. But the monitor on his heart kept beeping. And then I found out why. He and my mama were holding hands, and my mama’s heart was beating through him. And then their life and their love became so real for me. They were two lives that shared one heart. They had truly become one flesh. And I saw that it was a gift that God gives rarely, but when He does, it is to be honored and cherished and treasured, for I believe He only gives it once.”
“But—”
“I had it, Jeremy, don’t you understand? I was one flesh with Jonathan. We were two lives with one heart, and there can never be another for me. I can’t marry you. That’s all I can say. I can’t marry you.”
Inside the club, the music changed from loud to soft. Gentle chords drifted sweetly out the door as a lyric saxophone danced a sweet melody above them. And then a beautiful, clear voice lifted over the chords, and words that she never thought to hear again broke upon her senses.
Tonight, I whisper in your ear,
I always want you near.
Tonight, kiss me tenderly,
Come so easily,
Into my heart, tonight.
Jenny’s breath caught in her throat.
A lover’s symphony,
The sweetest harmony,
And all that I can be
Is here with you tonight.
I’ll do the best I can
To be your loving man,
And everything I am
Is here with you tonight.
With each line she heard, a deeper shock pierced Jenny’s heart. She turned and stared at the door.
“That song…”
In a trance, Jenny moved toward the door. Jeremy looked after her and then to Bobby.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Bobby said.
Jenny walked through the door and back into the club. Bobby and Jeremy went after her. It took a moment for Jenny’s eyes to adjust. The bright stage lights were almost blinding, and she could barely make out someone sitting at the piano, singing a song.
Tonight I sing this song of love,
You’re the one I’m dreaming of tonight.
Kiss me tenderly,
Come so easily,
Into my heart tonight.
As the band picked up the melody, Jenny walked slowly through the club. She didn’t see the people. She only saw a man sitting at the piano—a man with shoulder-length dark hair and sunglasses. She couldn’t see his face because he was turned away from her as he played. She kept moving forward until she stood directly behind him. His clear voice lifted up, like an angel singing…
A lover’s symphony,
The sweetest harmony,
And all I want to be
Is here with you tonight.
I’ll do the best
I can To be your loving man,
And everything I am
Is here with you tonight.
The words…Jonathan’s words…it was the song he wrote for her. She stood in wonder as the man came to the last verse. And then she lifted up her voice and sang with him, for she knew the song by heart.
Tonight, I sing this song of love.
You’re the one I’m dreaming of.
Tonight, kiss me tenderly,
Come so easily
Into my heart tonight.
As the band played the last chords and stopped, the man slowly turned. The lights glared off the sunglasses and Jenny still couldn’t see his face. She spoke.
“Where did you get that song?”
The man turned his head to the voice. “I wrote it.”
“No, you did not. My late husband, Jonathan, wrote it.”
The man recoiled as though he had been slapped. “Jonathan?”
Jenny moved closer. “Who are you?”
“I’m…I’m Richard…Richard Sandbridge. I wrote…I wrote…”
Jenny reached up and gently removed the sunglasses. The face…so familiar, but different. The mustache…the…oh, Lord! The eyes! The eyes…the wonderful sea-blue eyes, just like her papa’s. The eyes that drew her in and in until she was one with him.
“Jonathan?
Jonathan
?”
The man looked puzzled. “No, I’m…I’m Richard…Who are you?”
“Jonathan, it’s
me
. It’s your Jenny.”
Richard reached out, his hand shaking. “Jenny?”
Jenny took her hair and rolled it up into a bun. She grabbed a pin out of her purse to hold it. Then she lifted out her
kappe
and put it on.
“Jonathan, it’s your Jenny. It’s me.”
He stared at her, and then the light of recognition broke upon his face. Both of his hands reached out. Jenny took them in hers. The old shock ran up her arms and into her heart.
“Jenny! Where have you been? It was so dark…oh, Jenny…”
Jonathan moved off the bench and stood before her. Jenny reached out and touched his face, gently, oh so gently, and then she was in his arms and he was holding her and his strong arms were around her and…
“Oh, Jonathan! Jonathan!”
Bobby Halverson walked up behind them. He stood there for a moment, staring at Jonathan and Jenny. And then he put his hands gently on their shoulders and smiled.
“Let’s go home.”
And now the circle has come all the way around to its end and closed again. And all that was undone is born fresh and new in my heart. I am home, I am safe, and Jonathan is home with me, here in Paradise. My hopes have been fulfilled, and my prayers have been answered.
“O the depth
of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!”
And as this great joy fills my heart, I see the plan of God with such clarity. The future runs away before me like a great broad river flowing down to the ocean, and the past stands like the memorial stones in the waters of the Jordan. And I see that the roots of my faith are bound to the roots of my life, unbreakably mingled, and I know that we, Jonathan and me, are Amish, and we will always be Amish. And we rest in the arms of those who went before us and were faithful and loved us, and I remember them and the memory keeps me here, where I belong.
These memories are moments of the purest joy that often find me when I am most in need. They come when I am burdened by the troubles of the day, or wound tight in the snares of the world, or numbed by an undeserved wound. An isolated thought or a fragrance or an unbidden reminder will creep into my heart, and in an instant I will be transported on spirit wings to my beloved home in Apple Creek, Ohio.
In my mind’s eye I see Mama, sitting at the quilting frame, a small smile playing about her lovely face as she allows God to move through her heart and hands to bring forth such beauty that just remembering it is enough to steal the very breath from my body and leave me gasping in wonder. There is my papa, the smile behind his eyes keeping me warm and safe as his strength and love protected me all my life.
Outside the sky is painted with God’s brilliant palette of purples and pinks, and the smell of the fields is an intoxicant of the purest measure to my soul. How I loved those days! How they live in my heart and my memory, bringing me the beauty of another time that was unsullied and
without blemish. How can I tell you of the love that rises in my heart, the joy that springs forth with each remembrance? No, I cannot. For unless you have been there, unless you have the same yearning in your very being, you cannot know of what I speak. And so I hold these times in my heart. They are mine, mine alone. They are my Apple Creek dreams.
T
HEY SAT TOGETHER ON THE
front porch of the old farmhouse—the little Amish woman and the tall writer. Cups of tea sat on the small table in front of them, and a warm summer breeze heralded the coming of another beautiful evening in Paradise, Pennsylvania. The writer had come all the way from California to meet her, and now they were talking as if they had known each other for years.
“So what happened after you found Jonathan?”
“I brought Jonathan home to Paradise. It took him a long time to remember his life leading up to the explosion on the boat, but with the Lord’s help and a lot of love, he eventually recollected most of it.”
“Was it hard for him to come back…I mean, to being Amish, once he had so much success in the music business?”
