The Revealing (32 page)

Luke wandered downstairs and came over to look at the baby, then walked around the room. Something was on his mind.

“If Dad’s in heaven, he could see us now,” Luke said, looking at the ceiling.

Dean seemed to be on everyone’s mind tonight. But then, she wasn’t surprised. Some days were harder than others, and days of significance, like today, were the hardest days of all. “Of course he’s in heaven,” Rose said, pushing aside the fear that bubbled up to the surface.

“He wouldn’t be in hell, would he?” he asked hesitantly. “Suffering torture for all eternity?”

Rose put down Sarah’s bottle and looked at Luke in amazement. “Why would you think that?”

“Mammi Vera said that suicide is a sin that can’t be forgiven. She said it’s giving up hope.” He turned and looked right at her. “Do you know what really happened?”

“Luke,” she said softly, “what makes you think that your father took his own life?”

“I remember how upset and angry he was. I remember that he couldn’t sleep at night. He was unhappy for a long time.”

Now Rose was firm. “It’s true, he was under a great deal of stress. But I refuse to believe that your father would have done such a thing.”

“But—”

“No buts, Luke,” Rose said, with a pain in her chest that she felt would never go away.

Sarah had fallen asleep so she tucked her into the Moses basket and covered her up with a blanket. Then she turned to face Luke. There was something he wanted to say, and she could tell he was trying to put it into words.

“Would it have been terrible . . . drowning? Would it have felt like he was choking?”

Rose gave the matter some thought. “No, I think it would have been very peaceful, you know, like the feeling you get when you’re falling asleep and you can’t stay awake. You feel as if you’re being pulled away. I don’t think it would have been very frightening.”

“Do you think he thought of us . . . of Sammy and me . . . as he was dying?” Luke’s voice was shaking.

“I think he would have been hoping that you’d all be all right, that you’d carry on, that we’d be strong as a family and appreciate days like today, when Bethany and Tobe became baptized.”

And then, for the first time in front of her since he was a small boy, Luke let himself go and wept.

18

M
onday dawned beautiful, warm, and springlike. After Mim and the boys set off to school, Rose fed the baby her bottle on the porch swing. Sarah was already changing—gaining weight, stretching out her spindly arms and legs so she seemed less and less like a tightly coiled newborn. The baby waved a tiny fist in the air and Rose offered her finger for her to grab. Such miniature fingers! So fragile, so perfect. Rose wondered where her mother Paisley was and if she even thought about her. When Tobe crossed the yard from the barn, she stopped him.

He held up a hammer. “I’m finishing up a few things with the henhouse.”

A wave of irritation about Tobe came over Rose. Those hens were going to end up with a castle. “Not right now.”

His head snapped up, surprised by the tone in her voice. “You sound angry.”

“I think it’s time you take a look at this child,” Rose said. “Really look at her. She might be your daughter, she might not. But she might be the making of you. She might make you
into the kind of person you need to be.” She walked down the porch steps and handed the baby to him.

“I don’t know anything about babies,” he said. The baby stared at Tobe with wide eyes, evidently as surprised as he was. “What if I do something wrong with it?”

“Her. Not an it. She’s a person. Her name is Sarah. A real live human being.”

“She’s so very small.” Just then the baby began to cry, squirming in his hands. Tobe looked helplessly at Rose, but she made no effort to take the baby. “How can anyone know what a baby wants?”

“The more time you spend with her, the more you start to learn her language. Right now, she’s telling you she doesn’t like the way you’re holding her.”

He said he was afraid he might drop the child, who started to twist in his hands like a trapped rabbit. She whimpered, then cried, then yelled so loud she turned red as a beet.

“Put her against your shoulder,” Rose said. “You don’t have to hold her like that—she isn’t a bag of flour.”

He dropped the hammer and shifted the baby against his shoulder. “Do you think she might be sick?”

“No, she’s fine,” Rose said. With that she turned and walked up the porch steps, intending to leave him with the baby, who at once began to cry even harder. But, as abruptly as she had started, the baby stopped crying. She whimpered a time or two, stuck her fist in her mouth, and then quieted. He looked so relieved that he scarcely moved. The baby had wet his shirt with drool, but at least she wasn’t crying.

“Talk to her a little,” Rose said. She stood at the doorjamb.

“What should I say?”

She made a snort of disgust. “Introduce yourself, if you
can’t think of anything else,” she said. “Or sing her a song. She’s sociable. She likes to be talked to.”

Tobe looked at her blankly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able . . . I mean, I’m pretty clumsy.”

“All new parents are clumsy,” Rose reassured him. “You’ll get better at it.”

He looked at her sharply. “Why should I have to do this at all? The DNA test will—”

“I don’t care about a DNA test. You’ll do this because this child needs you. You’ll do it because you’re a decent man. And if that’s not good enough”—she bore down on him—“you’ll do it because I’m telling you to.”

She felt a little heartless, but she knew he had to learn to do it without her.

Naomi tried not to smile as she listened to Tobe’s complaints. Rose had insisted that the family, including Naomi, hand over the bulk of responsibility of the baby to him. They were allowed to give him fifteen-minute breaks now and then, so that he could shower or change clothes, but no help with nighttime feedings or walking the baby back to sleep. She was adamant about that.

After two days of being Sarah’s primary caretaker, Tobe was near to weeping with fatigue. There were dark circles under his eyes; he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He walked the hallways with Sarah in the night, trying to burp her after her third feed of the night. He said he found himself stumbling against furniture, almost incapable of remaining upright.

“How can anyone learn to identify what kind of crying
means hunger, discomfort, or pain?” he said. “All crying sounds the same—and it all wakes you up from the deepest sleep. No one ever told me how exhausting it is to be up three, four times every night, night after night. This is awful.” He was tired all the time.

It didn’t occur to him that Rose and Bethany had been doing that very thing for weeks now, ever since the baby was born. Or that Naomi had cared for the baby during the day.

Then, to his obvious relief, Naomi took the baby from him. “I’m going to grab a nap,” he said.

“I’ll wake you in fifteen minutes,” she said, and his smile faded.

There wasn’t much Brooke Snyder wouldn’t do for Jon Hoeffner. At times, she wondered if she was falling in love with him. Imagine that! Over cinnamon rolls in a little Amish town. So when he asked her for a small favor, she was elated. “How can I help?”

Jon looked at her squarely, kindly. His lips curved up a little on one side, showing off a dimple in his cheek. He seemed a little sheepish to have to ask her for help, but his boyish embarrassment only melted her. “I have a safety deposit box that I share with my sister. It was something our parents set up before they passed on to glory. My sister and I both have to sign to get into it. I need to get into the safety deposit box because I’m trying to sell my car. I’ve got to get the title.” He blew out a puff of air. “My sister is Old Order Amish and frowns on the life I’ve chosen—driving a car and using electricity and all that. She refuses to talk to me. It’s something called shunning. Kind of like excommunication.”

“I’ve heard of that! I saw a reality TV show about the Amish.” Then, after thoughtful consideration, “How awful for you.”

Jon nodded. “It’s been difficult. I’m left out of every family gathering. It’s been . . . well, lonely.”

Brooke reached out and covered his hand. “How can I help, Jon?”

“Would you mind posing as my sister at the bank to help me get the pink slip out of the safety deposit box? You’d need to sign in as her, but you could do that, couldn’t you? You duplicated my signature perfectly.”

A tiny alarm bell pinged inside Brooke’s head, but she ignored it. “I suppose the signature part wouldn’t be difficult. But what about the ID?”

He smiled. “Not a problem. I’ve got that covered. My sister doesn’t have a photo ID, being Amish, so it’s just a matter of getting her Social Security card.”

“How would you get it?”

He looked embarrassed. “To be entirely truthful, I saw her Social Security card on the counter awhile ago when I asked her if she’d go with me to the bank. When she refused to go with me, well, I’m not proud of it, but I slipped the card into my pocket. I’ll put it back as soon as I get this pink slip taken care of.”

She thought about it for a while, stirring her coffee. It didn’t feel wrong, but didn’t feel quite right, either.
Ping, ping
went the alarm in her head. “You promise you’ll return your sister’s Social Security card as soon as you get the pink slip?”

“Absolutely! I just couldn’t think of any other way . . . not until I thought about how easily you copied my signature.
Then I realized, well, you were heaven sent.” He squeezed her hands and she melted.

“Okay. When?”

The bakery clerk stood by the door, an irritated look on her face. Brooke suddenly realized it was past five and they were the only customers left in the bakery. They hurried outside so the clerk could lock up.

“I’ll let you know when I have the deal completed with the car buyer.” He closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re a peach, Brooke. I’m so glad we’ve met.” Jon lifted her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips. He smiled, then walked around the corner and disappeared.

Brooke leaned against the bakery door, feeling like she might explode with happiness.
Ping, ping, ping!
That stupid alarm bell kept going off in her head, so she tried to wipe her mind clean of it and closed her eyes to concentrate on the sweet goodbye kiss Jon had just given her.