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Authors: Tricia Goyer

The Memory Jar

BOOK: The Memory Jar
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THE
M
EMORY
J
AR

TRICIA GOYER

Dedicated to my sweet daughter Alyssa
.
You are a gift to us
,
and I enjoy making memories
with you day by day
.

The Lord God fashioned us for mighty ends, and nothing less than following that for which He made us can heal our restlessness of heart.

~A
RTHUR
J
OHN
(A. J.) G
OSSIP

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

EPILOGUE

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

GLOSSARY

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

About the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

Share Your Thoughts

PROLOGUE

S
arah Shelter didn’t know her friend was going to die that day at the lake. If so, she would have looked into Patty’s smiling face and determined once and for all if her eyes were more blue or green. She would have captured Patty’s laughter in her memory. And held her friend’s hand as they walked down to Lake Koocanusa, like they used to when they were ten.

Instead, Sarah settled onto the quilt they’d spread upon the rocky shore and plopped the last bit of strawberry cupcake into her mouth. The texture was fluffy and sweet. The vanilla frosting, good.

“So yummy.” Patty’s eyes widened. Sarah’s older brother Jonathan, Patty’s brother Michael, and their friend Jebadiah chimed in their agreement. Their kind words warmed Sarah even more than the bright sun in the cloudless Montana sky.

Patty licked frosting from her fingers. “The best cupcake yet. You really should open your own bakery, Sarah.”

“You want to open a bakery?” Jebadiah asked.

Sarah eyed her friend.
“Blappermaul.”

Patty tucked a stray strand of hair back in her
kapp
. “Don’t call me a blabbermouth.” She laughed. “Everyone knows yer
the best Amish baker in all of the West Kootenai. Why would anyone be surprised?”

“I’d be a customer.” Michael eyed the basket of extra cupcakes.

Sarah took out one and handed it to Michael. “Amish women don’t run businesses, as
Mem
says, our jobs are to keep our husbands’ bellies full.” Heat rose to her cheeks. “Not that I have one, uh, yet …” She let her words trail off, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate. She trusted God would bring her the right bachelor at the right time. At least mostly trusted. Sometimes she wondered why God was taking so long. Wondered if there was a reason she’d been passed by.

“Besides,” Sarah quickly added, “even if I were thinking of having my own business someday, I’m still fine-tuning my cupcake recipes. Got to get each jest perfect like.”

Michael took a big bite and swallowed. “How could you possibly do better than this?
Appeditlich
!”

Sarah didn’t know if Michael was the man for her, but she hoped that someday an Amish man would make his intentions known. If not a young man from one of the twenty families that lived in the West Kootenai, then maybe one of the thirty Amish bachelors who visited their corner of Montana every year.

Patty’s dog, Monty, snoozed with his chin resting on Sarah’s knee. Gray and scraggly, he’d followed at Patty’s heels for the last eight months.

Sarah stroked his paw. If a dog like this — that looked more like a mangy squirrel with a dog’s legs — could find love, couldn’t she?

The call of an eagle interrupted her thoughts as it swooped over Lake Koocanusa. It glided over the dark blue waters. Stately pines and white-trunked birch trees lined the lake’s shore.

From their place on the colorful quilt, Sarah eyed the tall bridge that crossed the wide lake. It sparkled in the summer sunshine like silver. Yet the bridge’s beauty and complexity were no match for the small pinecone she’d picked up. The pinecone wasn’t much longer than a green bean, but it was perfectly intricate. Sarah needed something for her memory jar to remember this day — the day when Michael’s eyes had lingered on her longer than ever — but not a pinecone.

Sarah tossed it into the lake. It bobbed for a minute and then rose on a gentle wave, most likely caused by a speedboat out there somewhere. Then a glimmer of white on the rocky shore caught Sarah’s attention. She scooted to the edge of the picnic blanket and picked it up, turning it over in her fingers. It was as lily white as marble, so different than the gray stones and gravel that covered the beach. Holding it up to the bright sunlight, she saw a cross shape etched into the stone.

Deep laughter rose from behind her. Sarah touched her
kapp
and then glanced over her shoulder. Michael was standing, circled up with the two other men. Yet his eyes weren’t on them, but on her. He smiled. Heat rose up her cheeks and she quickly looked away.

“The fish was so large she broke the line!” Jebadiah exclaimed. “
Gut
thing. I would have been pulled into the water had she not.”

“Look at that.” Patty pointed across the lake. “Those trees on the other shore look like eyelashes. They’re all fringed and full.”

“The lake is an awfully big eye,” Sarah’s brother Jonathan teased.

They didn’t understand. The guys saw a lake, but Patty saw a masterpiece.

If the lake was an eye and the trees lashes, the mountains
in the distance, white capped and pointed, made impressive eyebrows. It was Patty who’d helped Sarah see things in such a way.

Sarah took her friend’s hand and squeezed. “
Ja
, I can see it. They are beautiful lashes, aren’t they?”

Sarah rose and slipped off her shoes and stockings. Sharp rocks poked the soles of her feet. Lifting her skirt, she stepped into the cold water near where Jeb’s canoe was tied to the shore. Patty joined her. She stood by Sarah’s side, holding her skirt to her knees, and then took one step deeper.

“Yesterday this water was snow,” Sarah said just loud enough for Patty to hear.

“It’s a
wunderbaar gut
day when you can splash in snow, isn’t it?” Patty kicked softly and water splashed into the air. Sarah pictured a school of trout swimming closer to see what the commotion was about. Then Patty quieted and stared into the expanse, taking it all in. The only sounds were the lapping of the water against the shore, the distant buzzing of a motor-boat, and the guys’ voices as they moved on to hunting stories.

Sarah fingered the stone in her pocket, letting her thoughts flit back to Michael. What things would he be interested in talking about beside fishing and hunting? Anything that would interest her? Would it be too bold to approach Michael and start up a conversation?

Patty scurried up the rocky beach, shoes in hand. Sarah followed her, and then the two friends sat on the quilt, side by side.

“I have an idea,” Patty called to the guys. “Let’s head across the lake in Jeb’s canoe. My cousin’s place is jest on the other side. We can stop fer a quick visit.”

Jeb and Jonathan quickly agreed, but Michael remained silent.

Undaunted, Patty turned to Sarah. “You hafta come unless …” Patty leaned closer. “Unless you want to stay behind with Michael.”

Sarah turned the stone over in her hand, and then tucked it into her pocket.

“Michael’s not going?” Sarah whispered.


Ach
, heaven’s no.” Patty lowered her voice. “He almost drowned in the river back behind our home as a lad. He’s terribly afraid of water. Besides, you don’t want my poor brother to sit alone, do you?”

“But I’m comfortable with
you
. I don’t know where to start with …
him
.”

Patty placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Every man is looking fer someone who will listen to his dreams. Ask Michael what he thinks about. What he hopes for.”

“When did you grow so wise of love’s ways?” Sarah asked, glancing at Jonathan. He stood in the water with his handmade denim pants rolled up to his knees, guiding Jeb’s wooden canoe into the water.

Patty didn’t respond, but Sarah knew the answer. Patty and Jonathan were
in lieb
. She wouldn’t be surprised if by this time next year they’d announce their wedding.

“I know what it is to be falling fer a dear man,” Patty answered in a low voice. She took Sarah’s hands in her own, squeezing them tight. “We’ll be sisters if I marry Jonathan, and if you and Michael find love in each other — double sisters.”

Sarah’s stomach trembled in soft waves. “It would be nice to talk to him some.”

“That does it,” Patty called to the others. “Jonathan, Jebadiah, I’m crossing the lake with you. Michael, you won’t mind staying with Sarah, will you?”


Ne
, I’ll stay.”

The simple answer brought a double patter to Sarah’s heart. Patty rose and hurried down the shore.

The three climbed into the wooden canoe, taking the paddles and beginning to move across the lake. Wide-brimmed hats shadowed the men’s faces. Patty sat between the guys, her grin as bright as the sun reflecting on the water.

A speedboat zipped across the other side of the lake. Sarah thought about calling out to her friends, telling them to wait until the boat left. But it would do no good. When Patty’s mind was set on something, there was no changing it. Besides …

BOOK: The Memory Jar
12.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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