Ray of Light (18 page)

Any thoughts of quiet contemplation evaporated the moment she heard Regina's chatter.

“Mamm, I saw the
pikk
,” she called out, looking so grown-up from where she sat at the oak table she shared with Roman's grandparents. “His name is Sam and he smells. And I petted a horse's nose, and now I'm having hot chocolate.”

Amanda smiled shyly at Mr. and Mrs. Keim. “It sounds like a
wonderful-gut
afternoon.”

“It was
wunderbaar
!” Regina said. “I liked everything. I like it here, Mamm.” Her daughter's eyes were shining, and for once, she didn't look stressed or worried or like she was trying to be happy when she wasn't.

After all this time, in a place that wasn't even home to them, it seemed Regina had become herself again.

Right there and then, Amanda felt all her doubts about the trip to Ohio fall away. This was what she cared about; this was where her heart lay . . . with Regina.

And having a happy daughter made everything worth it. It gave her hope, too. Hope for a future that was going to be better than she'd imagined. “I'm so glad,” she murmured.

Roman glanced her way, making her realize that her voice was hoarser than she'd intended; thick with emotion. She shook her head slightly. “What I meant was, that if today was one of your best days ever, then I am mighty happy,” she said lightly, moving closer to pat her daughter gently on the back.

Mrs. Keim didn't look fooled for a moment. She was gazing at Regina steadfastly. As if she knew exactly what it was like to feel pain. “Amanda, won't you join us for some hot chocolate?”

She wasn't really thirsty; she'd just had that cup of tea with Marie. But the offer was kind, and she couldn't pass up an opportunity to sit with Regina and share the treat.

“
Danke
,” she said. When Roman sat down, too, and started chatting with Regina, Amanda realized that it wasn't just her daughter who'd had a wonderful day. Something special was happening with her, as well.

At the moment, she was happy. Happy almost like she used to be.

Chapter Twenty-one

Opening the door of the outhouse and stepping into the sun was one of the hardest things Viola had ever done.

Actually, as Ed stared at her in concern, his handsome face expressing no disdain, only worry, Viola realized that she'd never been more miserable in her life.

Well, perhaps she'd been more miserable when she'd been twelve and had been besieged by chicken pox and strep throat at the same time.

But this certainly came in at a close second.

“Edward, I'm so sorry,” she murmured yet again as they started walking back into the main building of the mission house. “I don't know what happened to me.”

“There's no need to apologize, Viola,” he said as he waved to a few of the local children sitting under the shade of a tree. When they waved back, he smiled, then continued to lead the way across the compound.

As she followed, Viola knew it wasn't okay. Everything in Roman's body language told her that he was upset with her. With the children, his smile was easy, genuine.

But now, every time he looked at her, he looked upset.

She didn't blame him. Of course he had to be upset about the first impression she'd made with all his coworkers. Embarrassed about the way she'd gotten sick, practically in front of everyone.

No, she didn't resent his disappointment. She felt the same way. She'd reacted in the worst possible way and now it was going to take everything she had to start over on the right foot.

If that was even possible.

So, though she still felt queasy and lightheaded, she grabbed his hand and tried her best to infuse some life into her voice. “Edward, we could continue our tour now, if you'd like.”

He stopped and looked down at his feet. The brim of his straw hat shielded his face from the sun . . . and effectively blocked her from seeing the expression in his eyes. “I think it would be best if we stopped the tour. At least until tomorrow.”

“I don't want to stop.”

“Viola—”

“Ed, I promise, I do feel better.” Distressed, she pointed to one of the crudely built buildings. “Would you like to show me what those buildings are?” she asked quickly, her words practically tripping over themselves. “They look like barns to me.”

“They are barns.” Finally, he lifted his chin. “Viola, I think it might be a good idea if I took you to your room and let you lie down for a while.”

“But—”

He interrupted her and started moving back toward the main building. “It's getting late, anyway. I bet you are anxious to get some sleep.”

“I'm not that tired.” But even to her ears, her voice sounded shrill. Like an exhausted child's.

“I've got a lot of work to do anyway, since I've been away all day. It would be best for both of us if you got some rest.”

Though she knew all of this was her fault, she felt rejected. Quietly, she nodded, then let him lead the way into the main building, down a narrow hall, and back into the central gathering room.

Unlike before, when it had been teeming with energy and excitement, it was now empty. Only the faint scents of the meal they'd prepared in her honor remained. “Um, where is everyone?”

Ed looked around the room, then shrugged. “Oh, they, ah, decided to give us some privacy.”

She knew she'd made a fool of herself, but for them to put away the celebration? They must have felt that she hadn't liked them. “I really do feel horrible about this, Ed. I want to make amends.”

“You shouldn't feel bad, and you certainly don't need to make amends. No one can help getting sick.”

She hadn't been able to help herself, that was true. But she also realized that her illness had been triggered not only by the heat, but also by her nerves. She was scared to live somewhere so different from Berlin.

But she was also just as afraid to lose Edward.

But if she corrected him, it would only make things worse.

After they crossed the large, empty room, he led her down another narrow hallway. Only a bare lightbulb illuminated their way. Finally, they stopped at a door. To her surprise, he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Here we are,” he said.

She stepped inside and almost gasped. Inside was a double bed, neatly made with a pair of quilts and what looked like ironed, white sheets. Pegs lined the wall, and hanging on them were Edward's clothes. “This is your room, isn't it?”

“
Jah
. I thought you might like to use it while you're here. It's clean, and will give you some privacy and quiet.”

It was obvious that he'd very carefully cleaned what was clearly the nicest room in the mission complex.

Seeing how much trouble he'd gone to, how much preparation he'd made for her arrival, she felt even worse.

Oh, he must be so disappointed in her.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“I'll bunk with some of the other men in one of the dormitory rooms.”

“I can't take your room, Edward.” As she glanced around, at his shirt hanging, at the pile of notes and loose change on his chest of drawers, she was certain that every little thing was going to remind her of him. Even his scent filled the room. But then again that helped her finally feel a little more relaxed, as if she really wasn't so far from home.

And that new glimmer of well-being was so wonderful, she wanted to hug him close and promise that she'd never embarrass him ever again.

But she wasn't sure that she could promise him that.

“Viola, this is really the only appropriate place for you to sleep.” He stepped away. “Plus, I, ah, I had imagined you'd want to see where you'd be sleeping when we married.”

“Had imagined?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “But perhaps this isn't the best place for you.”

“What do you mean? Where else would I go?” All the hotels that they passed coming in from the airport looked too far away and too expensive.

“Perhaps you'll want to stay home.”

She heard what he was saying, but it didn't want to register. “You mean Berlin?”

“
Jah
.” His face looked expressionless. Stoic.

“Where would you be? You wouldn't quit, would you?”

“No, I told you, I have a commitment to the mission. My chance to withdraw was back in February, when I came out here the first time. I can't leave now, it's my job.” He cleared his throat. “But, like I told you, some wives stayed behind.”

“I thought perhaps that was out of necessity. That they were raising
kinner
and wanted them to be at their schools and such.”

“It's also by choice.” He shrugged. “There's no need to make any sudden decisions, but I want to assure you that if staying in America is something you need to do, I'll understand.”

“But you said—”

He cut her off. “I said a lot of things, Viola. We both know that just because I want something to happen, doesn't mean it will. I think it was wrong of me to push you so. I didn't want to be away from you. I wanted to marry you quickly. I wanted you here, by my side. But I should have asked what you wanted to do.”

It almost sounded as if he were trying to find a way to break things off. “Edward, I love you.”

“And I love you, too, Viola. Of course I do.”

“Then give things some time. Give me some time. I mean, I only got here a few hours ago, Edward. Surely you don't expect us to make decisions about the rest of our lives in just a few hours? Do you?”

“You're right, of course.” Gently, he reached out and caressed the side of her cheek. She looked into his eyes and realized that he looked sad. “Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning.”

“All right,” she murmured, waiting for him to caress her cheek again, and then hold her close.

Instead, he turned and closed the door tightly behind him.

Dismayed and yet again on the verge of tears, she took off her shoes and sat on his bed. She lay down and curled on her side, inhaling the comforting scent of him on the sheets.

He was right. They could talk more later. Who knew what that conversation would be like, anyway?

She could only hope it went better than the one they'd just had.

 

“I don't know the last time I laughed so much,” Lovina said with a smile as she sat with Aaron at the kitchen table the morning after Amanda and Regina's arrival. “That little Regina has already drawn a ring around my heart.”

Aaron smiled at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “I have to agree that the child is a delight. I hope her mother and Roman can come to some kind of agreement and soon.”

“They must be feeling something if she's bringing her daughter up here to see Roman.”

“And us,” Aaron corrected. “I recall Roman saying that he wanted her to meet his whole family.”

“Sam and Lorene are coming over tonight. We'll either scare her off, or scare Roman,” Lovina joked. “The Keims all together can be overwhelming.”

“I suppose so.” Her husband looked to add something more, then kept his tongue.

“What is it?”

“Oh, I was just wondering how you first felt when you met my family.”

“I was overwhelmed, too,” she said with a burst of laughter. “I wanted to please you.” Almost shyly, she gazed at him through lowered lashes. “Of course, I was afraid your family would shun you for even thinking about dating an
Englischer
.”

He scratched his beard, as if he was trying to remember. “They were surprised I fancied you, for sure. But they were happy I was smiling again.”

Leaning back, he rested one foot over the opposite knee—the way he used to sit all the time. “After Laura Beth, I didn't smile so much. You changed that.”

She was touched. So rarely did they speak to each other like this. To cover up her deep feelings, she said, “I was always doing something wrong. I'm sure everyone had a lot to laugh about.”

She looked at her husband fondly, not seeing his unruly, thinning gray head of hair. Instead, she recalled how his hair had once been thick and the color of dark caramel. His eyes had held a tired expression . . . like they'd seen too much.

Except when he gazed at her.

Years ago, it had felt as if she were the only person in the world.

“To be honest, I'm not really sure what I thought about when I met your relatives. All I remember was that I wanted to change,” she murmured. “And that I wanted you.” To her surprise, she felt her cheeks heat. Even after forty years, he could make her blush.

“We were two souls in need of fresh starts. I had lost Laura Beth and Ben. You had lost your boyfriend.”

“We were both in need, for sure,” she agreed.

“Well, the chores aren't going to do themselves. Best go see if Roman needs a hand.” Aaron was always the practical one. Meanwhile, her head was still in the clouds, remembering Jack, when Aaron closed the back door with a thud.

Thinking about how she'd sneaked out of her house the day after the accident and took the bus to the hospital to see Jack.

When she'd gotten there, his parents had barely acknowledged her existence.

Even worse was when one of the nurses had told her that Jack didn't want to see her. Right in front of a bunch of his friends.

She'd realized that she had never really meant all that much to him. Not even after all the things they'd done. Especially not after Billy's death.

But after he'd left for basic training, Jack had written her a carefully penned note that had revealed more than he'd ever told her in person.

In it, he'd told her that after he'd left for boot camp, he'd thought about her more and more. She'd made an impression on him, for the better. And because of that, he wanted to change. He wanted to be a better person, and he hoped she'd give him another chance. He'd asked her to write him back.

And so she had. They'd exchanged a few brief, hesitant letters. Each filled with grief and regrets about Billy.

Then, of course, things had changed again.

And Lovina had realized that the pain she had been feeling, while bad, had only been a taste of what was about to come.