Promise Lodge (25 page)

“I'm glad Isaac's being held accountable now, and pleased to see that Obadiah's stopped ignoring his son's wrongdoing,” Amos remarked. “And who knows? Maybe Preacher Eli will open his home to his daughter again—although we're glad you're here with us, dear.”

“Maybe he will,” Deborah murmured. As she gazed at the dear friends around the table, it again occurred to her that if God had led her to Promise in her time of need, He'd had a good reason. “Noah's asked me to wait for him, though—to be patient while he works toward building a home for us. And I've said I would.”

“Yay!” Laura cried as she grabbed Deborah's shoulders.

“That's what we've been wanting to hear!” Phoebe agreed. “Oh, but I'm glad you're together for the long haul again!”

Preacher Amos winked slyly at Mattie and then focused on Deborah again. “Happy to hear that,” he said with a mysterious smile. “
Gut
things come to those who wait, Deborah. Trust me on this.”

* * *

After breakfast, Bishop Floyd called for a taxi to take him and his wife to the Kirksville bus station. Then he and Amos went for another walk around the grounds. Rosetta ran dishwater while the other women stacked the dirty dishes and the girls put the leftovers in containers. When Frances cleared her throat rather loudly, all of them looked at her.

“Deborah, I'm glad you told your story,” she said as she clutched her tea towel. “And I'm grateful to God that you escaped those boys and your situation in Coldstream because—well, Mary Kate, our youngest, wasn't so lucky. She's the real reason we're looking to leave our church district.”

Rosetta's eyebrows rose and she turned off the faucet. “I hope you don't mean that Mary Kate ran afoul of some boys—”

“Just one. An English fellow who saw her walking home one evening from helping at a neighbor's house,” Frances said in an urgent voice. “He got out of his car and grabbed her. Forced himself upon her in the woods and drove away. If she'd been brave like you, Deborah—if Mary Kate had screamed and put up a fight, we might've heard her, but . . . well, we're devastated. She's only eighteen.”

“Oh, Frances, I'm so sorry,” Rosetta murmured. As she put her arm around Frances's shoulders, Mattie and Christine and the girls gathered around to express their sympathy, as well. “What's the world coming to when our girls aren't safe in their own neighborhoods?”

Frances blotted her tears with her towel. “I prayed that we could put the incident behind us and be more watchful, but Mary Kate is carrying the baby of a man we know nothing about. You understand, of course, that her being the bishop's daughter adds another layer of . . .
complication
to our family's problem.”

“
Jah,
a bishop's family is expected to toe a higher mark,” Mattie murmured. “But you're human, like the rest of us. So this is why you and Floyd are leaving Ohio?”

“Before her condition becomes apparent, and before anyone suspects why he felt called to leave his district,” Frances confirmed with a nod. “I refused to send Mary Kate away to distant kin, to have her baby in a strange place—knowing folks would only speculate about the reason she'd left all of a sudden.”

“
Jah,
that's how people think, unfortunately.” Christine squeezed Frances's shoulder. “If you believe Promise Lodge is a
gut
place to start fresh, we want you to come. Every one of us is here because we chose to leave trouble behind.”

“You have no idea how relieved I was to meet you ladies—to know right off that we'd be bringing Mary Kate to a place of caring and compassion.” A wry smile lit Frances's face. “
Please
don't let on to Floyd that I've told you about this. He's used to having his say, as bishop, and when situations spin out of his control, he doesn't deal with it very well. The truth will become more obvious as the months go by, of course.”

Rosetta chuckled softly. “I figured that about him,
jah
. But it's the same for the rest of us, too,” she pointed out. “We do our best to follow God's will, so when life takes a turn for the worse, it slaps us in the face pretty hard.”

Wiping her eyes a final time, Frances smiled bravely at all of them. “We still have our family. We still have our Lord Jesus,” she said in a determined tone. “I believe we'll be returning here very soon to get settled with Mary Kate and Gloria—and to prepare for a baby in December. It just has to seem like
Floyd's
decision that we're coming here.”

Mattie smiled. “Oh, some of us know a little about how the man has to be the head of the family.”

“But we women are the necks that turn the heads,” Christine added.

As they returned to redding up the kitchen, Rosetta turned the conversation to lighter topics by asking about what sort of house Frances was hoping for and where she might want it built. Within an hour, the Lehmans were packed and waiting for the taxi when it pulled up to the lodge for them.

“We'll keep in touch,” Bishop Floyd said as he loaded their luggage into the trunk. “We appreciate your showing us around the place, and holding the cabin for us.”

“We'll look forward to hearing from you,” Preacher Amos replied.

Rosetta and the rest of them waved as the taxi headed for the road.
Just goes to show how we have no idea what crosses other folks have to bear, Lord. Keep reminding us not to judge others—and please grant Your special grace and peace to young Mary Kate.

“I suspect we'll be seeing the Lehmans again soon,” Amos remarked as he handed a check to Mattie. “When I suggested a deposit of five hundred dollars, he gave us a thousand.”

“An investment in his family's future,” Mattie said. “Something tells me he won't walk away from his money—or his commitments.”

Rosetta shared a quick smile with her sisters as they headed back to the lodge. A few moments alone with Frances had shed a whole new light on Floyd's motivations. She sensed that when the bishop returned to Promise Lodge with Mary Kate, he might act a bit more tolerant of their ways here—and show a lot more humility.

Or not,
she thought wryly.
With some men, there's no figuring them out.

* * *

Noah strode quickly up the lane that evening, his heart overflowing. When Queenie rushed up to greet him, barking her welcome, he set his rolled-up papers on the ground so he could rub her head between his hands.

“I think we're gonna make it, Queenie-girl,” he said gleefully. “It's all gonna fall into place now.”

Queenie licked his face, and together they hurried toward the lodge. As he climbed the wooden steps, aromas of grilled beef, gravy, and fresh bread made his stomach rumble.

Smells like home,
he thought. When Noah passed through the dining room, where the table was set for supper, the sight of Deborah at the stove made him stop to gaze at her. She was attacking a pan of boiled potatoes with the masher, steam rising around her precious face as her
kapp
strings fluttered with her energetic efforts. It was such an ordinary sight, yet so dear to him, now that it seemed entirely possible that she'd be standing in
their
kitchen cooking his meals someday.

Deborah reached for the milk jug and then noticed he was watching her. Her grin lit up the kitchen. “Noah! How was your day?” she called out. “We got steaks out of the freezer to celebrate your new job!”

His heart fluttered. He realized then that his
mamm
, his aunts, and his cousins were all busy in the kitchen, as well, and that they had planned a wonderful supper before they even knew if his drawings had been approved—because they loved him, and they believed in him. With that sort of acceptance, how could he fail?

Amos carried a large platter of T-bone steaks in from the backyard. The girls placed bowls of creamed peas, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy on the table, along with a basket of bread.

Roman brought along two pies piled high with meringue. “Lemon and butterscotch,” he said as he placed them on one of the unset tables. “No matter what they told you about your drawings today, we're eating high on the hog.”

“
Jah,
we killed the fatted calf,” Amos quipped. “So what
did
those managers say about your ideas, son?”

Noah set his rolled-up drawings on the unset table alongside the pies. “They said
yes!
” he crowed. “They liked my sunflower and hummingbird designs for the outside trellises so much, they want matching insets for the patio doors and for some of the interior glass doors, too!”

“So you'll be doing more projects than you first thought?” his
mamm
asked.

“
Jah,
they seemed mighty glad I'd come along,” Noah replied. “Even Truman was surprised about the extra projects. He'd told me not to be disappointed if they scaled back on some of my ideas, yet it seems they dug deeper into their budget to pay for
more
rather than less.”

“And for that, and our many blessings, we give thanks!” Amos said.

They all took their seats at the table. As they prayed, Noah bowed his head, grinning when he felt Deborah's toes tapping his ankles. He hugged her feet between his.
Lord God, for this wonderful day and my new job, I thank You. Forgive my earlier bad moods when I didn't believe anything positive would come of our move to Promise Lodge.

Did anything taste better than steaks cooked on the grill? Or mashed potatoes hollowed into a crater to hold Deborah's thick brown gravy? Noah described the facility where he'd be working, and answered a lot of questions while they ate. His steak was juicy and seasoned to perfection, and he enjoyed every bite of the side dishes that had long been his favorites. While the girls cleared the table, he unrolled his sketches of gates with insets that included the sunflowers, hummingbirds, and swirls of ivy that had earned him such high praise—and good pay—from the managers at the senior living complex.

“Oh, would you look at that sweet little hummer?” Deborah said as she ran a finger over one of the sketches. “Every one of those little birds is a miracle, don't you think?”

Noah held Deborah's hand as she stood beside him, admiring his drawings. Truman had agreed to order enough extra supplies so he could make the trellis she wanted for their new home, and now he knew exactly what sort of design he'd add into it.

“What a blessing, that you can put your talents to use at a place where they're sure to bring the residents joy,” Amos remarked as he studied Noah's sketches. “It's God's providence that brought you here so you could do such special welding work, son.”

The preacher stroked his silver-shot beard, smiling as he gazed into Noah's eyes. “The root word of
providence
is
provide,
” he went on matter-of-factly. “And just as the Lord has given us all so much since we moved here, your
mamm
has decided to provide you a plot of ground, and I will build you and Deborah a home on it. We think it's fitting that yours should be one of the first houses to go up in our Promise Lodge colony—whenever you're ready to marry.”

Noah's mouth dropped open. Beside him, Deborah gasped while Laura and Phoebe squealed with delight.

His mother stepped up behind them to place her hands on their shoulders. “I was planning to do this for both you and Roman when the time was right, to make up for moving you from the land you'd figured on sharing someday,” she explained.

“And I'll see that you girls have places to build homes, as well,” Christine said as she joined Phoebe and Laura beside the table. “It's important to us to keep our children nearby, and to build this colony as a place for your families to grow. While this doesn't mean you
must
stay, if the men you marry want you to move elsewhere, it's my way of providing what your
dat
would've wanted you to have.”

“Ohhh,” Deborah said wistfully. “
Denki
so much for taking care of us—
all
of us.”

“I wasn't expecting
this
when I came here,” Noah murmured as he gazed at Mamm and Amos. “That's very generous, and—well, you've helped my future come together a whole lot faster.”

“Take all the time you need to court this young lady,” Amos insisted. “When more families arrive, we'll have carpenters and preachers—and maybe more than one bishop joining us, who knows?—so we can start building homes and performing weddings. So you see, son,” he added happily, “
everyone's
dreams are coming true.”

“I like the sound of that,” Noah murmured as he gazed at Deborah. “I like it a lot.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Deborah spent the next few days floating in a euphoric cloud. While Noah was at work, she painted inside two more cabins. As she helped Rosetta prepare the evening meal, she began a list of baking staples to buy at the mercantile in Forest Grove.

“I've been thinking I could sell breads and goodies at the produce stand,” she explained. “I can put the money toward things for the house—and that way, I could also work at the stand when Laura and Phoebe need to be in the gardens. Is that a
gut
idea?”

“I've never known you to have a bad idea, Deborah,” Rosetta replied. “When word of your goodies gets around, folks will come to the produce stand as much to buy those as to latch on to home-grown veggies and fresh eggs.”

“I sure hope Ruby and Beulah come back. Their honey and cheese would be a big draw to the stand, too.”

Rosetta's smile dimmed. “I'm waiting for the phone to ring, and for Beulah to say Delbert will let them live here,” she admitted. “Something tells me he'll have the last word about that even though his sisters have paid ahead on their rent.”

Soon Mattie, Christine, and the girls came in from the garden to help put the meal on the table and the kitchen filled with their chatter about opening the produce stand. When Amos returned from the Promise post office, he brought Noah in from where Truman had dropped him off at the camp entrance.

“Letters!” he said as he waved a handful of them. “Plain folks are seeing our ads, wanting to join us here. And this one's for you, missy.”

Deborah's eyes widened. The neat handwriting on the envelope could only belong to one person. “It's from Mamma,” she breathed as she tore it open. “Maybe she's written more details about Isaac and the goings-on with that Presley fellow.”

When she unfolded the pieces of lined writing paper, three twenty-dollar bills slid out. Why would Mamma be sending her money? Although the food was on the table and the men were gathering around it, everyone wanted to hear whatever news was in her letter. Deborah slipped the money into her apron pocket and began to read silently.

Deborah swallowed hard, blinking. Here were the words she'd been longing to hear, even if her mother was relating them secondhand.
Your dat has forgiven you
.
Please, please come home.

With a sigh, she wished she'd waited until she could be alone to read Mamma's letter, but there was no stopping. Her mother's neat, purposeful penmanship drew her through paragraphs that became progressively harder to bear as she reached the bottom of the first page.

Deborah felt as though one of Amos's vises had clamped her heart. Why had this letter arrived
now,
when she and Noah had made such wonderful plans for their future in Promise? She'd kept herself very busy these past two weeks, purposely thinking about the tasks at hand rather than her family, to keep from missing them so badly. In her mind she pictured Lily and Lavern, Menno and Johnny . . . her mother's careworn face. How she had missed them all—even Dat, despite his stern, indisputable way of handling their family's challenges.

Mamma had sent her money to pay a driver. It had taken a long time to earn sixty dollars selling eggs because her mother wouldn't have asked her father for money. Maybe she hadn't even told Dat she was begging Deborah to come home.

What if Mamma had written of Dat's forgiveness in the hope that if she came home, he
would
forgive her? What if Mamma was wishing for a miracle, praying God's will would go the way she wanted it to, for once? Deborah couldn't imagine her father carrying on to Mamma about forgiveness, after the way he'd taken one look at her and assumed her soul was as tattered as her clothing.

But Deborah
had
received Noah's forgiveness. He wanted her for his wife again. He had a good job and would soon build a home—to share with
her
. After the joy they'd known these past couple of days, how could she even suggest that she wouldn't become Mrs. Noah Schwartz and live in Promise?

Deborah's dilemma became painfully clear: if she said yes to Noah, she would crush her mother's spirit. Deborah suspected the bitter words and strained silences that often filled the Peterscheim household had felt as jagged as shattered glass in her absence. But if she told Noah she wouldn't be living in Promise anymore, where would that leave him and his dreams? She didn't have it in her to break his heart again.

A sob escaped her. Deborah began to cry so hard her whole body shook.

“Oh, honey-bunch, is somebody sick? Is your
mamm
not doing well?” Rosetta asked as she hurried into the kitchen.

“I miss them so much,” Deborah rasped. “I—I want to go home! But—but . . .”

When Rosetta embraced her, Deborah lost herself in the warmth of her understanding. “Of course you want to go home,” Rosetta murmured. “You've been a brave girl, Deborah, but family is family. I'm sure your
mamm
feels lost without you.”

“She wants me to come back.” Deborah hiccupped, trying to regain control of her emotions. “She—she says Dat has forgiven me.”

“And that's a fine thing,” Preacher Amos assured her as he, too, came over to comfort her. “I've decided to go to Coldstream next Monday to help them with the barn raising. If you can wait until then, we can ride together. I'd feel better if you didn't make the trip by yourself.”

Deborah wiped her eyes and gave him a grateful smile. “That would be a
gut
idea.
Denki
so much.”

She folded Mamma's letter and slipped it into her apron pocket. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves so she wouldn't ruin everyone's supper with her crying. Then Deborah prayed that God's will would be done, that somehow this situation would work out.

But how could she face Noah when she sat down across from him?

* * *

Noah's heart sank like a rock. Deborah took her seat, but she wouldn't look at him. Her eyes were pink around the rims, her mood shadowed by the same desperation that had plagued her the day she'd arrived at Promise Lodge. She wouldn't lie to him, but she didn't have to—in the kitchen she'd blurted
I want to go home,
but he had clearly heard
good-bye
.

He'd spent his day sketching full-scale models for the gates, trellises, and door insets for the care center. While his drafting pencil and ruler had occupied his hands, his thoughts had wandered to the house he would soon help Amos design. When Truman had called in the order for the iron—all the posts, hinges, and hardware, including materials for Deborah's trellis—Noah had felt as though he were floating. The pieces he'd been hired to create were a challenge he looked forward to, signposts on the road to his financial security.

But he was earning the money to support Deborah, to build the home he intended to share with her for the rest of his life. If she left, what was the point of any of this?
What profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?

And Deborah was his soul. He knew that now.

After supper, Noah waited out on the porch until she'd finished helping with the dishes. Then he grasped her hand. “Let's go for a stroll,” he suggested. “You have to tell me about your
mamm
's letter. That expression on your face when you were reading—well, it scared me
bad,
Deborah.”

She clutched his hand as desperation overtook her pale features once again. “Mamma says my
dat
has forgiven me,” she whispered. “She begged me to come home.”

Noah hoped he didn't sound unbearably impatient or impertinent. “And why
wouldn't
you go back to visit your family?” he asked nervously. “Anyone would—”

“Mamma wants me back to
stay,
Noah. She wants me to—to marry and settle in Coldstream so there will be young families to keep the colony going,” Deborah explained with a sigh. “Especially because you Schwartz boys and the Hershberger girls have already left.”

Noah's heart clutched at the hopes and dreams he sensed were swirling down the drain. “How can she expect you to—girls marry guys from other towns all the time!” he protested. “Why doesn't she realize that the husband-to-be has a say about—”

“I'm sorry, Noah,” she said in a pinched voice. “I didn't see this coming. But here it is. And I don't know what to do.”

Deborah stopped walking. She hung her head. Then she looked away from him, across Rainbow Lake, as though hoping an answer would appear in large letters across the western sky. “Whichever place I choose, I'll hurt someone I need and love dearly. It's been so hard for Mamma with me gone because, well—she and Dat aren't always happy.”

Noah already knew that about Eli and Alma. He had vowed long ago that when he married Deborah, their relationship would not sink to the level of disparagement and discouragement that shadowed the Peterscheim home—and many other households where the husband ruled with an iron hand and the wife had become little more than a servant. A doormat.

“Please don't leave me, Deborah,” Noah whispered. “I
love
you, girl.”

“And I love
you,
Noah,” she rasped. “But Mamma needs me, too.”

With a sigh, Noah left her standing by the lake. He could think of nothing else to say.