Plain Admirer (12 page)

She folded her arms and nibbled at her lower lip. “If you’re asking me what I want done about the license plate number I wrote down, I would like to give it to the sheriff.”

“There is a larger question besides what you or I would
like
to do. It’s about what we
should
do.”

“You believe we should do nothing.”

“I’m not sure.”

“By doing nothing, aren’t we leading weaker souls into temptation?”

“How so?”

“Might someone decide it’s easier to rob an Amish home because he thinks that crime won’t be reported? What is our responsibility to him?”

“You think we should take temptation out of his way.”

“Yes, but how? By keeping our money out of sight and in a safe place, or by letting it be known his crime will be reported to the
Englisch
law? Paul urged Christians to give civil authorities their dues with regard to taxes, respect and honor.”

The fire was back in her green eyes. Why had he ever thought she was homely? He said, “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I look forward to reading your article. Do you have your answer?”

“I think so. We should feel we can report a crime and answer police questions if we’re asked, but we shouldn’t seek revenge. We shouldn’t file charges or seek damages from others. I think in this way we will remain true to the teachings of Christ.”

“You have forgotten the most important thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We must forgive those who harm us.”

Trust her to point out his failings. Why did he think she might understand his struggle? He took a step back. “I haven’t forgotten. Enjoy your new job.” He left the bookstore, slamming the door behind him.

He worked the rest of the afternoon on the article his uncle had assigned him. Three times he painstakingly typed out his thoughts and three times he tore the page out of the typewriter, wadded it up and tossed it toward the trash can. He left work that evening hoping something would occur to him out at the lake.

He was happy to discover a new letter waiting for him when he reached his now favorite spot. This time, he had taken his pole and hoped to get in a few hours of fishing before dark. He opened his note.

My Friend,

It seems we share the same sense of the absurd. Mr. Raccoon has not put in another appearance. Clearly, he is ashamed of his earlier behavior and is trying to avoid me.

I’m sorry your troubles at work are getting worse instead of better. I, too, am saddened by the cruel and senseless behavior I’ve seen lately. Are we perhaps talking about the same events in our community? I’m referring to the Amish schoolhouse fire and the injury of Otis Miller when someone threw a brick through the window of his business. These nameless individuals may think they are hurting the Amish, but they are only hurting themselves. I feel sorry for them.

As for your personal struggle, I urge you to do what you know is right. That is usually the truest course. If you can, seek the wisdom of men you admire and take their words to heart. Very few people have lived a life free of pain. Some may even have faced the same issue that is troubling you. We do not travel though this world alone.

Forgiveness is not easy. Some hurts are so deep that we can see only despair and question why God has chosen this for us. Forgiveness is God’s mighty gift to the giver. It heals the one who was harmed. It can also heal those who have caused harm if they acknowledge what they have done and seek redemption.

I hope you continue to draw comfort from this beautiful spot, and I hope you find my letters as comforting as I find yours. I will heed your sage advice and seek the strengths of the man who annoys me. If I don’t find any, I’m willing to make the trade. You name the time and place.

The hardware store in Hope Springs carries a good selection of fishing tackle. You can find several kinds of jig-n-pigs there.

May God bless you and keep you.

The Happy Angler

Reading one of the Happy Angler’s letters always made him feel better. He didn’t have to struggle with his doubts and problems alone. This letter made him almost certain that the Happy Angler was an Amish woman from his community.

She was someone who was familiar with the recent crime spree. She was also someone who advocated forgiveness even as she acknowledged how difficult that could be. Roman’s curiosity continued to grow about the identity of his friend. Who could she be? He thought of some of the kindhearted single women in his church district. There was Sally Yoder, Grace Beachy and a whole slew of girls his brother’s age. Then there was Lea Belier, the teacher. She would have free time to fish now that school was out for the summer, but who would annoy her at her job? Was she working somewhere else over the summer?

If he started asking his mother questions about the local single maids, she would start harping about grandchildren again. He would simply have to wonder and hope his unknown friend would one day reveal her identity.

Of course, it could be Joann Yoder.

That thought made him flinch. He couldn’t see her starting up a correspondence with a stranger. Sure, Leonard was sometimes difficult to work with, but Joann had taken another job. Nothing in this letter indicated the author planned to change where she worked.

He mulled over the advice he’d been given. His friend was a very wise person, indeed. Roman spent the next hour fishing without much success. He caught only three small fish and tossed them all back. As the sun began to set, he wrote:

Dear Happy Angler,

You are so right. We do not travel through this world alone. You are proof of that. Yes, I was talking about the Amish schoolhouse fire and the brick-throwing incident. What will it take to restore peace in our community?

As for forgiveness, I’m working on that. You write with great conviction about the grace forgiveness brings us. I think you are right.

God bless you and keep writing. I do find comfort in your words.

Your Friendly Fisherman

He tucked the brief letter in their makeshift mailbox. He was starting to care a great deal about the woman who wrote such comforting words. Someday, he would tell her in person about the peace her words brought him.

That evening after supper, he waited for a chance to speak to his father alone. His father was a wise man. If anyone could help him with his dilemma, he could.

He followed his dad into the living room. “
Daed,
can I ask you a question?”

His father settled himself in his favorite chair. “Of course.”

“I think I know who is behind the attack on Otis and the fire at the school.”

“Who?”

“It’s a member of Brendan Smith’s family. I don’t know what to do with the information.”

Menlo stroked his beard. “You are considering giving it to the police?”

“
Ja.
I fear others may be attacked.”

“I understand your fears. We must trust that God will keep us from harm.”

“I know, but is that enough?”

Menlo was silent for long time. Roman waited for his answer. Finally, Menlo spoke. “If I see a house on fire, I will pray for everyone’s safety, but I will sound the alarm and try to save what I can, be it my neighbor or his goods, and I will work to keep the fire from spreading.
Gott
put me where I could see the flames and help. You must pray for guidance and ask yourself if
Gott
has put you where you can see the flames.”

“
Danki,
Papa. I will do that.”

The following morning when Roman arrived at the office, he learned Otis wouldn’t be in. Leonard was waiting for him with a note from his aunt. As he read it, Gerald came in.

“What’s up?” Gerald looked from Leonard to Roman.

“Otis’s headache has gotten worse. My aunt is taking him back to the hospital at the urging of Dr. Zook. She says that Otis wants me to take charge of the business until he returns.”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck. The job was beyond him. Without Otis here, he really needed someone who knew what they were doing. Leonard and Otis were both waiting for him to say something. “How are we coming on the schoolbooks?”

“I printed twenty copies of all the first-grade books yesterday,” Leonard said.

“I will get the covers on and get them bound today,” Gerald said, then looked as if he wanted to say something else.

“What?” Roman asked.

Gerald and Leonard shared a speaking glance. “Otis wanted all the books done by this weekend,” Gerald said. “I don’t think we can do it. Not in addition to getting the paper out and finishing all the other orders we have.”

“What do you suggest?” Roman wasn’t above asking for help.

“Get Joann in here,” Leonard stated. “She knows what needs to get done and how to do it.”

Roman nodded. “Okay, I will ask her to help us.”

“You will?” Gerald asked in surprise. “I didn’t think the two of you got along.”

Roman scowled at him. “I won’t let my uncle’s business suffer because of my personal feelings for the woman. Leonard, get started on the second-grade books today. Are there any that we don’t have plates for?”

Leonard shook his head. “We have plates for everything that Leah has been using. It’s a good thing too, otherwise it would cost more and take more time to set all that type.”

“Guess we should get busy,” Gerald said. “I sure hope Joann agrees to help.”

As the men went to work, Roman sat down at his desk and noticed a note with his name on it. He unfolded the wrinkled paper and saw it was his first attempt at writing his article on law and order. There was a note in the margin. “This one is the best. Use it.”

There was no signature, but he knew the note had come from Joann. She must have come in to straighten up after he left and found his discarded attempts to write his article, then salvaged one.

He read through the rough draft again. She was right. This version said what he wanted to say without sounding judgmental and without preaching. He put a new piece of paper in his typewriter and finished the article. When he was done, he felt a keen sense of accomplishment that he’d rarely known.

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the license plate number that Joann had written down. Had God put him and Joann here so that they might see the flames of this evil and sound the alarm?

Roman prayed he was doing the right thing. He stapled the license number inside a copy of the
Family Hour
magazine and addressed it to Sheriff Bradley, then put it in the mailbox.

He drew a deep breath. Now, he needed to convince Joann to come back to work for him. He wasn’t at all certain that she would.

Chapter Twelve

S
he was late.

Joann stabled her pony without giving him his hay or grain. He whinnied in protest as she closed the stall door. “I’ll be back later to feed you. I promise.”

It was only the second day of her part-time job and she was thirty minutes late. Otis would not be happy with her.

She should have waited to go to the lake until after work, but she had been eager to check for another letter and to her delight, there had been one waiting for her. She had lost track of time while writing an answer and now she was late. The letter was tucked in her pocket and the words came back to her now.

Dear Happy Angler,

You are so right. We do not travel through this world alone. You are proof of that.

Her words brought him comfort. She smiled at the thought as she rushed in through the back door of the bookstore and jerked open the supply room door. She grabbed her cleaning supplies and a broom from the corner, spun around and ran into Roman. The handle of her broom smacked the side of his head. She stood speechless with surprise and remorse.

He rubbed his temple. “Come into my uncle’s office. I need to talk to you.”

That didn’t sound good. “I really am sorry. It was an accident.”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t a brick.”

“Let me put this stuff back and I’ll be right there.” At least he hadn’t asked why she was late.

She replaced her cleaning supplies and followed him to the office next door. Otis wasn’t in. Roman sat behind his uncle’s desk. His grave expression set off alarm bells in her head. “Where is your uncle?”

“He is back in the hospital. Apparently, there was some slow bleeding in his brain. My aunt called the bookstore and told Mabel they are taking him into surgery.”

“Oh, no!” Joann sank onto a nearby chair. “What can I do to help?”

“I was hoping you would ask that. Can you come back to work in your old position? I don’t know what your pay was, but I will match it.”

“Of course. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“My uncle has left me in charge, but I am woefully unprepared to run this business.”

He wasn’t just being modest, he was worried. She could see it in his eyes. “I will do whatever I can to help. What projects are being run this week, and where do they stand?”

“All the schoolbooks are being reprinted,” Roman began. “Otis wanted all of them done by Saturday. We have the first-grade books printed. Gerald is running them through the binder now. Leonard has started on the second-grade books. Fortunately, we have plates for all of them through the eighth grade. If worse comes to worst, we can delay delivery for a few weeks since the children aren’t in school. Besides the newspaper, we have two hundred and fifty wedding invitations that need to be done by tomorrow, fifty new menus for the Shoofly Pie Café that were promised for Thursday and a half dozen miscellaneous business announcements.”

“In other words, a lot.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “
Ja,
teacher, we have a lot to do.”

She didn’t mind her nickname this time. He wasn’t being sarcastic. This Roman Weaver, a man determined to do the best for someone else, was a man she could like.

She rose to her feet. “I’ll start setting the type for the wedding invitations. We can use the proof press to run them since there aren’t very many. If you start on the layout for the newspaper, we should be able to get it out on time.”

“
Danki,
Joann. For agreeing to help, and for commenting on my magazine article. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees when I wrote it.”

She felt herself blushing. She wasn’t used to him being nice. “That is often the case with writers. That’s why it’s helpful to have someone read your stuff.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Once Otis gets back, I’m sure he’ll proofread your work.”

Roman’s eyes darkened with worry. “I wish we could hear how he is doing.”

She longed to ease his burdens. “We can manage without you for a few hours if you want go to the hospital.”

He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I’m sure you could manage without me for a lot longer than a few hours, but I feel I have to stay here. This business is important to my uncle. Mabel will let us know something as soon as she hears.”

Joann studied him in a new light. Her Friendly Fisherman had suggested that she look for Roman’s strengths. She had found them in his writing and even more so in his love for his uncle. She looked forward to telling her friend how well his suggestion had worked.

They received good news about Otis an hour later. His surgery had gone well. He was in intensive care, but he was expected to make a full recovery. The tension in the office lightened perceptibly after that.

When they closed up for the evening, they had made significant inroads into their workload. Leonard was ready to start printing the seventh-grade books, and Joann had finished the wedding announcements. They walked together out the back door to where the horses were stabled. Joann had managed to get away long enough to feed her pony. He seemed eager to be on his way home. She was surprised to realize she wasn’t eager to leave. She was enjoying Roman’s company.

“Since you’re working with us again, why don’t I pick you up tomorrow?” Roman said as he headed for his horse’s stall.

She frowned as she considered how she could make time to get to the lake now. She couldn’t. Her letters would have to wait until things settled back to normal.

Roman led his mare out of the stall. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No, I want to, I mean, that’s fine and it’s nice of you to offer.”

“But what?”

She smiled to reassure him. “Never mind. It’s something I had planned to do in the mornings since I wasn’t working, but it can wait. The usual time?”

He nodded. “
Ja,
the usual time.”

She looked forward to spending time in his company more than she cared to admit.

The various jobs at the office kept them busy for the rest of the week, but it gave them something to talk about on their way to and from work. Roman remained approachable and interested in what she had to say. At least it seemed that way.

On Friday, Joann found him in Otis’s office, seated behind his uncle’s desk. He didn’t look comfortable there. She couldn’t blame him. His uncle’s illness had forced him into a position he wasn’t ready for.

He looked up. “Did you need something?”

“Do you have a minute to talk about the schoolbooks we’re reprinting?”

He frowned at the paper he held. “Do we really need sixteen reams of copy paper this month?”

“That sounds about right.”

“Okay.” He jotted a note and closed the order book. “What was it you wanted to discuss?”

She took a step inside the office. “There are some changes that need to be made in the booklet on learning to drive a horse and buggy safely.”

“I read through the book. I didn’t see anything that needed changing. Besides, we have the plates for that one. It will cost more if we make changes and we’ve already agreed on a price with Eli Imhoff for the project.”

“I wish you would read through it again.”

“I don’t have time,” he said with exasperation.

“You, of all people, know how important it is to share the road properly.”

He scowled at her. “I
was
sharing the road properly until Brendan Smith decided to knock the open door off my buggy with his truck. Either he didn’t know or he didn’t care that I was standing on the other side of that door.”

“There’s no denying you suffered a bad experience.”

“Thank you, but that doesn’t help me move my fingers.”

“All I’m asking is for you to take a look at the booklet again, with your own experience in mind, and see if you don’t think we can make it better.”

“You will nag me until you get your way, won’t you?”

She pressed her lips into a tight line. “I would hardly call it nagging.”

“Is there anything else?”

“That’s all I wanted.”

“Fine. Now, I’ve got work to do.”

“And I’ll be out here taking a nap,” she muttered as she turned away. How could he charm her one day and irritate her so much the next?

* * *

Roman heard Joann’s remark, but he didn’t respond to it. He had far too much on his mind. His uncle’s health wasn’t improving as rapidly as his doctor had hoped. Roman didn’t have time to reread each schoolbook and make sure they were accurate. They had been good enough in the past. They would be good enough now.

Only, Joann had planted the seed of doubt in his mind. He couldn’t dismiss it. He opened a copy of
Learning to Drive a Horse and Buggy
and started reading. Bishop Zook’s words came back to him. Driving on well-maintained roads was a privilege, it wasn’t a right. The Amish had to share the responsibility for the roadway upkeep and safety, too. Nothing in the textbook addressed this fundamental piece of information.

He, like many Amish, was guilty of being proud that he shunned cars and drove a buggy. Didn’t he expect cars to travel at his pace and pass him safely no matter how long he slowed their progress?

The
Englisch
did not intend to slow down to the Amish pace of life. The Amish had to take as much, or even more, responsibility for safety on the roads. It annoyed him that Joann was the one to point it out.

His conscience pricked him as an overlooked truth wormed its way into his thoughts. It wasn’t so much that she was annoying. What he found annoying was that she was so often right.

Later that afternoon, he stopped beside her desk. “Rewrite the section that you think needs to be changed, and I’ll look it over.”

Her eyes grew round. “Really? We’re going to change it?”

“You were right, it needs to be updated.”

“Oh, that was hard for you to say, wasn’t it?”

He struggled to hide a smile. “You have no idea.”

“I’m glad you took this job. It suits you.”

“Are you going to the school benefit on Saturday?” he asked.

“
Ja,
I planned on it.”

“Do you want to help me take the books out there?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Shall I meet you here?”

“I’ll pick you up at the usual time.”

“Can we make it an hour later?” she asked hopefully. “I have something I’d like to do first.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Great.” She smiled brightly and his mood lightened.

He found he was reluctant to walk away. “My mother wants to come with me.
Daed
and Andrew will be along later with the lumber that’s needed.”

“That will be fine.”

He still didn’t move.

She raised one eyebrow. “Is there something else?”

He cleared his throat. “
Nee,
I’ll let you get back to your nap.”

“Danki.”
She swooped the paperwork on her desk into one large pile and laid her head on it.

He chuckled as he went back to his uncle’s office. He had no idea she had such a cute sense of humor. There was more to her than he once suspected.

In spite of the heavy workload, they were able to get everything finished on time.

Roman’s good mood lasted until Saturday morning. His mother was bustling around getting food, plates and glasses ready to help feed the people who would be working at the school that day.

She handed him a picnic basket to put in his buggy and said, “Esta Barkman asked if she could ride along with us. I told her we’d pick her up. I hope that’s okay.”

Esta and Joann in the same buggy. That should make for an interesting ride to the school. His mother was humming as she worked. That wasn’t like her.

He suddenly had a bad feeling about the day.

* * *

Joann hurried toward the lake early on Saturday morning. She hadn’t had a chance to check for a new letter since she had resumed her old job. It had only been a few days, but it seemed much too long.

When she reached the log, she was disappointed when she saw her letter was still in the same place. The Friendly Fisherman hadn’t returned. She sat down and added a short note to the end of her first letter. Content that her friend would know how she had taken his message to heart, she replaced the jar and hurried home.

An hour later, she waited at the end of the lane as Roman pulled up beside her. His mother sat beside him. “
Guder mariye,
Joann,” she called out.

“Good morning, Marie Rose. Have you news of your brother?” Joann climbed into the buggy with them.

“He’s doing well and has been moved out of intensive care.”

“That is wonderful news.”

“Roman tells me you are helping at the printing office again until Otis returns.”

She had her old job back, but this wasn’t how she wanted it. “Roman has things well in hand. I’m just doing what I can to help.”

“We have one more stop to make,” Roman said. He seemed out of sorts this morning.

His mother said brightly, “We are picking up Esta Barkman. She wanted to go with me to the hospital after we finish at the school. She’s such a thoughtful young woman, and such a good cook, too.” She smiled at her son.

Joann wanted to slink away and hide. She hadn’t exchanged a single word with Esta since that day in the barn.

Roman turned into the Barkman lane. Esta was waiting on the porch swing. She looked lovely in a crisp new dress of pale lavender. Joann had chosen one of her work dresses to wear. The plain gray fabric and black apron looked shabby next to Esta’s cool color.

Esta came down the walk with a wicker basket over her arm. “Hello, everyone. Joann, I’m surprised to see you.”

“Roman and I are taking the new books out to the school.”

“How kind of you. Very wise to wear your old dress for such work. Isn’t she practical, Roman?” She stood beside the buggy looking up at them.

Joann realized they couldn’t all sit up front. She got down and climbed in back expecting Esta to sit in back with her.

“
Danki,
Joann.” Esta smiled brightly at her and took her place beside Roman’s mother up front.

When Roman set the horse in motion, Esta and his mother were engaged in conversation, Joann folded her arms across her chest and stuck her tongue out at Esta’s back.