The Search (30 page)

“Maybe. But that doesn’t explain you. You’re not even Amish, yet you’re able to give Simon something I—who lived my whole life in the Amish church—can’t.” He turned to her. “Why?”

Lainey lifted her head to the sky. “For a long time, I felt abandoned. And so lonely. I still do, at times. I think it will always be my Achilles heel. But a few years ago, I went to a church service and the pastor happened to be preaching on the difference between divine forgiveness and human forgiveness. I knew I couldn’t forgive others without God’s help. He said that we fail in the work of grace and love when there is too much of us and not enough of God. That thought stayed with me. Too much of me and not enough of God. Once I understood that and asked for God’s help, I was able to forgive Simon and stop condemning him.” They sat together there for a long time before Lainey added, “I learned how to love from watching your mother. I know she could scare a body half to death, but a person knew she could fail and still be loved. I think even Simon knew that about your mother. I think that’s why he never left Stoney Ridge. She might have been the only person who really loved him.”

Jonah tucked his chin. “Rebecca was always frightened by my mother.”

Jonah was bringing up Rebecca’s name more and more and it made Lainey glad. She wanted him to feel comfortable talking about her. She didn’t want him to feel as if he had to forget her.

He glanced at her. “You never were frightened by my mother, were you? Even as a young girl.”

“I always knew there was a tender heart inside that gruff exterior.”

Lainey smiled at him, and Jonah smiled back at her.

She reached out and jostled his knee. “Listen. Simon’s still telling the story.”

Sure enough, they could hear Simon’s voice through the window, carrying on as if they were still in the kitchen. Jonah gave a short laugh. “Are you seeing much improvement in him? Other than his talking voice is back in working order?”

“Little by little. He’s not needing as much sleep. He took a walk to the end of the road yesterday.”

Jonah tucked a curl behind her ear and stood to leave. “Good. Maybe there is an end in sight.”

And then what?
Lainey wondered, watching Jonah head out to the street toward Rose Hill Farm.

Caleb Zook made a point of stopping by to see Simon every Sunday afternoon. Lainey was amazed. Caleb had no responsibility for Simon since he had been shunned. But Jonah said Caleb was like that. He said Caleb had always managed to be sincere about his faith without becoming legalistic. It wasn’t that rules were optional to Caleb. She noticed that he didn’t entirely ignore Simon’s shunning: he didn’t sit at their table for a meal with Simon. Once she offered a plate of cookies to the two of them while they were talking in the living room, but Caleb politely turned her down. Jonah told her later that Caleb shouldn’t be offered food from the same plate that had been handed to Simon. And Caleb didn’t touch Simon, not even a handshake. But he still showed genuine concern and interest in him. He seemed to believe that there was something to redeem in Simon.

All men of God should be like Caleb Zook, Lainey thought more than once.

“Do you really believe Simon can change?” Lainey asked him one Sunday as she walked with him out to his buggy after he had paid a call on Simon. “Or are you just saying that because you’re the bishop and that’s what you’re supposed to think?”

Caleb laughed at her candor. “Simon always was chock-full of brag and fight.” He put on his hat. “But, yes, I think he can change if he wants to. God wants all men to come to him.”

Lainey wanted to ask him more but waited to see if he was in a hurry to leave. When he didn’t get in the buggy right away, she blurted out, “What made Simon the way he is?” It was a question Lainey had often wondered and wished she had asked Bertha. She did ask Jonah once, but he had no idea. As long as he could remember, Simon was just thought of as the black sheep.

Caleb leaned against the buggy, one long leg crossed over the other, his arms crossed against his chest, that black hat still shadowing his face. “I’m not sure there’s an easy answer to that question. I don’t think there’s one event. But I do recall my mother saying that Simon’s mother died bringing him into the world, and his father was a hard man to please.” He stopped as a thought seemed to come to him. “A little like Billy’s father. Always wondered if that might be why Bertha took such an interest in Billy.” He stared down the road for a moment, then turned back to Lainey. “Simon was the last child and only boy in a string of females, and life seemed to be a little more difficult for him—learning in school, getting along with others, learning a trade. He grew up being told he couldn’t do anything right. Maybe there came a point when he believed it. It became a way of life for him. A habit. Maybe it was easier to just go ahead and disappoint people in advance. Maybe that’s how he has felt about God.” He unknotted the buggy reins from the fence. “He’s softening, though. Little by little. Bertha would say, ‘En Baam fallt net uff der eracht Hack.’
One stroke fells not an oak.
”

Lainey frowned. “Bertha also said, ‘You can’t make good hay from poor grass.’ ”

Caleb grinned. “Now, now. How could a man be at death’s doorstep and not have some change in his heart?”

Lainey was unconvinced. To her, Simon didn’t seem capable of change.

Caleb caught the look on her face. “Let me put it another way. Before Simon’s body could accept Bess’s bone marrow, the doctors had to kill off his own marrow. Only then would his body be able to accept the new marrow, Bess’s sacrifice. There’s a spiritual part of this. The way I see it, he’s a new man. It’s just taking awhile to break those old habits, to kill off that old marrow. That old way of life.”

That was a new thought to her.

“But,” Caleb warned, “it might take time.” He shrugged. “No matter. God has plenty of time. It’s one thing he’s never short of.”

Lainey rolled her eyes. “God might have time, but I’m running out of it. Patience too. It’s like trying to take care of a bear with a toothache.”

Caleb laughed. “Lainey, now that Simon is getting more energy, maybe you should think about putting him to work for you.” He climbed into the buggy. “Work does a soul good. Even a tough old codger like Simon.”

As she watched his buggy drive down the road, she wondered if what Caleb said could possibly be true. Could Bess’s sacrifice to Simon be changing him, inside out?

She heard Simon’s voice yelling for her to hurry his dinner.
Fat chance.

______

Jonah and Lainey were heading back to the cottage from buying supplies in town. They were on the top of the rise when Rose Hill Farm came into view. This was Lainey’s favorite vantage point. She could barely make out the rooftop of her cottage down below, hidden by trees, but it gave her comfort to realize how close their homes were. Suddenly a car honked loudly and careened around the buggy, upsetting the horse so that Jonah pulled quickly over to the side of the road and stopped.

“Dutt’s weh?” he asked Lainey.
Does anything hurt?

“A little scared but not hurt,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows. “You understood?”

She lifted her chin. “I understand a lot more than you might think.”

He grinned at her. “I’m sure you do.” He looked back at the horse. “I haven’t known Frieda to rear before.”

Lainey looked up the road at the small speck of a black car, now far up the road. “It wasn’t Frieda’s fault. It was that car’s.”

Jonah got out of the buggy to calm the horse down. When they arrived at the cottage, they found that little black car parked out front.

“Oh no,” Lainey said, worried. She hopped out of the buggy and hurried inside while Jonah hitched the horse to the fence.

There in the living room were her English friends, Robin and Ally. Simon, looking delighted to be in the company of two young women, was entertaining them with stories.

It was Robin who recognized Lainey first. Robin was not quite beautiful, and certainly not pretty, but men had always been attracted to her. She had a straight nose and a strong jaw, and her green eyes were large and clear. She was not smiling when she saw her friend; in fact, she wore a slight frown. She was studying Lainey, her gaze moving slowly over her prayer cap, her blue Plain dress and white apron, then back up to her starched white cap again. “You look so . . .”

“Plain?” Lainey offered.

“Then it’s true,” Robin said. “What you wrote to us. We thought you were joking. They’ve got you in their clutches. It’s a cult, just like he said.”

“
Who
said such a thing?” Lainey asked.

“Him,” Ally answered, pointing to Simon. Ally was round and pleasant looking. There was something friendly and understanding about her face.

Lainey glared at Simon. “Don’t listen to him. He’s always saying crazy things. Being Amish is not a cult.”

“It’s a cult of the worst sort!” Simon said. “Seems all sweet and rosy as long as a fellow toes the Amish line. But just put a toe over the line a very little bit and folks will come down on you like a wolf on the fold.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If that’s not a cult, I don’t know what is.”

Ally was staring out the front window at Jonah, who was looking over the black car. “Who’s he?”

“That’s her boyfriend!” Simon called out. “He’s been bringing twigs and leaves and starting to build a love nest, just like a couple of doves in springtime.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “She’s getting baptized just so she can throw me out on the streets. Shunning me just like the rest of ’em.”

Lainey lifted her palms and looked at Simon. “Why do you say these things?” She had told him once that she would postpone her baptism until he recovered and could live on his own, just to avoid any complications of his shunning. How had he twisted that around?

Robin walked up to the window and stood next to Ally to peer at Jonah. Lainey looked over their shoulders. Seeing him at a distance the way a stranger might see him, she felt a surge of tenderness for him. He was such a fine-looking man.

“Oh sheesh,” Robin said. “She’s gone off the deep end for sure. It’s worse than we thought.”

Jonah had a pretty good idea to whom the black car belonged. Lainey had told him about her two English friends she used to live with, that they were good-hearted but ran a little wild. He saw the two of them watching him from the window. He took his time getting the horse some water, stalling, trying to settle his unease. Would Lainey be tempted by her friends to return to the world?

Maybe this was good, he tried telling himself as he emptied the water bucket. Now was the time for Lainey to find out if an Amish life was what she truly wanted. To be sure she was hearing God’s guidance correctly. And before his feelings for her were at the point of no return, he had to admit, hoping he hadn’t already passed it. Cautiously, he approached the cottage porch.

Lainey met him outside. “My friends are here.” She had an uncomfortable look on her face. “They think I’ve gone crazy.”

Jonah looked down at her earnest face and tried to hold back a grin. “Have you?”

Her face relaxed into a smile. “No more than usual.”

When she smiled like that, with her full-lipped mouth, it always made Jonah think of kissing her. He was seized by an urge to take her in his arms, but instead he reined in those stray thoughts and said, “Then let them see that. They’re here because they care about you. Let them see you’re still you.”

Lainey nodded and turned to go into the house. She stopped and whirled back around. “I just . . . apologize in advance for anything they say that might be considered . . . offensive.”

Jonah gave her a reassuring smile and followed behind her into the house.

Lainey gestured toward Jonah. “Robin, Ally, this is my friend Jonah Riehl.”

There was an awkward silence as the two women looked him up and down. Then the taller of the two, the woman whose mouth was pursed tightly—Robin—took a few strides forward to shake his hand. The gesture struck him as insincere; he could see a mocking intelligence in her eyes. He turned to the other woman to shake her hand. Ally had a small, round face on top of a small, round body. The image of a sparrow following behind a raptor flickered through his mind.

“I noticed one of your car tires is nearly flat,” Jonah said.

“We’ve been running on three tires since we hit Lancaster,” Robin said, as if it didn’t seem to matter.

“If you have a spare, I could change it out for you,” he offered.

Robin exchanged a curious glance with Ally. “I thought you Amish folks didn’t want anything to do with cars.”

Now it was Jonah’s turn to exchange a glance with Lainey. “Knowing about something and using it are two different matters.” He took off his coat and tossed it on a chair, then rolled up his sleeves and went out to the car.

After Jonah went outside, Ally turned to Lainey. “That sweet old man was just about to rustle something up for us in the kitchen. We’re starving!”

Sweet old man? Simon?
Lainey heard a curse fly out of the kitchen and hurried in to find Simon in the middle of frying up a loaf of scrapple. He was rubbing butter on his hand. A curl of black smoke was rising up from the frying pan. Lainey grabbed a dishcloth and pulled the heavy cast iron pan off of the burner.

“Scrapple?” she asked Simon as she put his hand under cool water. “Why would you offer scrapple to my friends at this time of day?” She cracked the window open to fan out the smoke.

“They wanted something Penn Dutch,” he said, carefully examining his hand.

“Fine,” Lainey said, pulling forks out of a drawer. “If that’s what they wanted, then that’s what they’ll get.” She had just bought a loaf of scrapple in town because Simon had pestered her to get some for breakfast.

It irked her to see Simon bend over backward, acting as charming as could be toward her two friends. To her, he always sounded quarrelsome, even if he wasn’t. Why, he had never even cooked before! She pulled plates from the cupboard and napkins and took them to the table. By the time she got everyone something to drink, Jonah had returned from changing the tire. He took one look at the burnt scrapple and said he should be leaving.

“Please, Jonah. Don’t go. Sit down and visit.” She wanted him to get to know her friends and for them to get to know him. Plus, Simon was on better behavior when Jonah was around. She pointed to the place she had set for him at the table.

Too late, Lainey remembered that Jonah couldn’t sit at the same table with Simon. He hesitated, an uncomfortable look passed over his face, until she jumped up and offered him a glass of iced tea. Then, instead of sitting down, she nonchalantly leaned against the kitchen counter and he followed her lead. She had seen Caleb do the same thing once. Still respecting the rules of the church, but without making a scene or being rude to others.

Jonah took a sip of iced tea. “So, what is it you two do in Harrisburg?”

“We’re cosmetologists,” Ally said.

“They study the stars,” Simon said to Jonah, thumping the bottom of the ketchup bottle over his plate.

Robin snorted and Lainey exchanged an amused glance with Jonah. “That would be cosmology,” Lainey whispered to Simon.

“Same thing,” Simon said.

“Not hardly,” Robin said. “We work at a beauty salon.”

“Ha!” Simon said. “It is the same thing. You’re turning coal into diamonds!” He grinned at his own joke.

For some reason, it irritated Lainey even more that Simon could laugh off Robin’s correction. If she had corrected him, he would have barked at her.

Ally poked carefully at the scrapple with her fork. “What’s in this?”

“Offal,” Simon said, sawing a piece of scrapple with his fork.

Ally looked up. “Awful?”

“Yup,” Simon said. “Hog offal. Heads, heart, liver, and other scraps. All mixed together with cornmeal and flour.” He took a bite and chewed it. “Guess that’s why they call it scrapple.”

Robin made a face. “It sounds awful!”

“Yup,” Simon said. “That’s what I’ve been telling you. Offal.”

Lainey gave a sideways glance with a smile to Jonah, and Jonah smiled back at her. An intimacy passed between them that shut everybody else out. It only lasted a moment, but no one at the table missed it.

After Jonah left, Lainey showed Robin and Ally upstairs to the spare bedroom. She felt as if she should brace herself, now that they were alone.

“Why, this room is as bare looking as the downstairs!” Robin said, walking into it. There were two twin beds covered with handmade quilts, and a simple nightstand between them. No curtains on the windows, no rugs on the floor, no pictures or posters on the wall. It was a Plain room.

Lainey looked around the room as Robin and Ally did, then her gaze came back to her friends. As they stared at each other, the air seemed to acquire a prickly tension but the silence dragged out.

Finally Robin let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can’t actually be thinking of wanting to marry that simple farmer, can you?” she asked, flopping on the twin bed. “Why, he even smells like a farm!”

Lainey liked the way Jonah smelled—of hard-work sweat. It blended with the other scents of summer, of sweet clover and mown hay. He had spent the morning helping a neighbor thresh in his fields.

“Simon told us that Jonah’s house doesn’t have toilets,” Ally said, eyes as big as saucers. “Or running water.”

Lainey winced. “Rose Hill Farm belonged to his mother and she died recently. He’s installing indoor plumbing right now.” It was the very first project Jonah started work on after his mother had passed, and Bess couldn’t have been happier.

Ally sat down on the other bed. “Has he told you he loves you?”