Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
Wednesday, October 21
T
ess couldn't stop thinking about Simon's desire to help children that were in situations like they'd been in. The thought of being able to do something after a lifetime of feeling helpless was exhilarating.
However, she just wasn't sure that his barn was the best solution. It was too isolated. Too many kids who were in need would have no idea it existed. And if they didn't know that help was available, it would be beside the point.
She'd gone to bed thinking about his barn and his ideas, stewing on various options while she'd tossed and turned. Then she'd had an idea. The first time she'd driven through Charm, she'd noticed a couple of empty store fronts and small houses for sale. What if she and Simon pooled their money and purchased something in town?
Of course, their half-baked idea was going to need a lot of fleshing out before they could put something into place. Actu
ally, she was going to have to do a lot of talking to Simon to see if he would even be willing to purchase a place in town.
But now that the idea had germinated in her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
After she finished her appointments for the day on the east side of Cleveland, she drove back down to Charm. Two hours later, she was parking her car on one of the side streets. She couldn't help it; she had to take a look at some of the storefronts and other buildings in the area. There had to be a way to make this dream a reality.
Before she'd left her hotel that morning, she'd used the business center and printed off a list of available properties. There were two just off Main Street that she wanted to check out.
The first was an older redbrick building. It had been a home at one time, then most recently a little bulk-food store. The notes on the property report said that the owners hadn't had enough capital to enable it to compete with destinations like Walnut Creek, and it had closed after less than a year.
Walking around the weed-infested yard, trying to see past the peeling paint and sad-looking metal fence that encompassed a small backyard, Tess wondered if teenagers would find it welcoming. She kind of doubted it. It was small, far from the road, and didn't have as much as a single tree on the lot.
When she discovered the second place on the list, she felt a spurt of optimism. This building was closer to the road but set apart from most other houses. Looking at her notes, she saw that it had recently been a coffee shop.
She peered in the window and was excited to see that an expensive-looking espresso machine was still there. So was a long counter and what looked like an oven, sink, and dishwasher.
If she knew anything about teenagers, it was that teens liked to eat, and many enjoyed getting fancy coffee concoctions.
“If you want coffee, you're out of luck,” a voice called out. “It's been closed for two months now.”
Turning to the voice, Tess saw an older Amish man with a long beard. He was dressed rather somberly in a light-gray shirt, black vest, and black pants. He had a black felt hat on his head that was tilted a little low over his eyes, giving him an unexpectedly jaunty air.
“
Danke,
” she said before she realized that he might be curious as to why an English girl like herself was speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. “But I'm not looking for
kaffi
. Not yet, anyway.”
As he approached, she noticed that he had a sizable limp. That limp, together with the intent way he was looking at her, spurred a memory. “Are you Preacher Atle?” she asked hesitantly.
“I was. I'm Bishop Atle now. Who might you be?”
“Tess Hochstetler.”
“Tess.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Now, you are certainly not someone I thought I'd see today.”
That was a bit of an understatement. “It's been a while.”
“
Jah
. Over ten years.”
He clasped his hands together behind his back. “Ten years is a long time. What brought you back?”
She almost lied, then decided lying to a bishop was always a bad idea. “I'm a pharmaceutical rep now. I ran into Simon at a hospital in Millersburg. Now we're getting to know each other again.”
“And how is that going?”
She loved how direct he was. She decided to respond the same way. “Pretty good. Simon and I went to a cute little café during
our first visit. Then I visited him at his house the other night. He made me a sandwich.”
“That's a start, then. Ain't so?”
She nodded.
He turned and looked at the house she'd been inspecting. “You know, if you are looking for a new
haus,
you might want to look toward Plum Street or so. There are some nice homes around there. They're in far better shape and there's also a lot more of the English, too. It might be a better fit.”
“
Danke,
I'll keep that in mind. But, you see, I'm not trying to find a home. I'm actually looking for something else.” Taking a chance, she plunged in. “Bishop Atle, do you have a moment to talk to me?”
Gray eyebrows rose. “You reckon we might have more to say to each other?”
“I'm hoping so.”
“Sounds intriguing.” He grinned at his joke, then gestured toward Main Street. “Want to go sit at the park?”
She nodded. “That sounds good.”
They didn't exchange any words while they walked. Tess was too busy trying to formulate the best way to approach Atle about her idea.
And Atle? Well, he seemed completely at ease with silence. He reminded her of her adopted mother, Jill, in that sense. Jill had never been one to enjoy idle chitchat.
When they arrived at the park's entrance, Atle motioned his head to one side. “Let's go over here, girl. We'll have a bit of privacy from the little ones and their mothers.”
As Tess followed, she glanced at the other visitors. As Atle said, there were about five preschoolers playing on a complicated-
looking jungle gym. Their mothers sat within easy reach, doing that thing that mothers did so well, talking to each other while keeping one eye on their little ones.
Just beyond the children and their mothers were four Amish men. Two were playing checkers while the others looked on. They all wore long-sleeved shirts, black hats, and suspenders. But what struck her the most were their expressions. Each one looked as if there was no place else he would rather be.
“So, what's on your mind?” Atle said.
Deciding to simply plunge in, she said, “My
bruder
Simon has been thinking about maybe starting a place for teenagers. A place for them to feel safe.” She attempted to explain. “Someplace where they could visit together.”
He looked at her curiously. “Teenagers already do have such places. They're called farms and houses.”
“We both know not every home allows such activity.” Reminding herself that she was the one who had approached him, not the other way around, Tess added, “
Rumspringa
is a dangerous time for Amish teens. There are a lot of temptations and, perhaps, too much freedom to explore those temptations. A community center might be a good place for them to explore things. It could be a good place for Englisher
kinner,
too. They would be safer and properly supervised.”
“Safe,” he said around a sigh. Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes.
Tess wondered if he was praying or was simply gathering his thoughts. Maybe both? Crossing her arms over her chest, she bided her time, content to watch the children play across the way. Every so often, one of the mothers would scamper over to a child and gently offer a helping hand.
What would her life have been like if her mother had been in a place where she could let her children play like that? What would she have been like if she'd had such a childhood? Would she have turned out the same way? She wasn't sure. Now she didn't suppose it mattered.
When Bishop Atle straightened, he looked at her intently. “Tess, would such a place have kept you and your
bruders
here in Charm?”
“Honestly?
Nee.
No community center or safe house was going to change my life.”
“Then what makes you think it's needed?”
“Because I think my brother wants, no,
needs
to make such a place. He wants to help those who need help. I'm certain a lot of teens would trust him. He doesn't try to pretend he's perfect. He's patient, too. They might look to him for support if, say, they were having a difficult time at home.”
But instead of looking reassured, the bishop looked more troubled. “I don't know, Tess. I don't think it's the right time for such a place. Families might feel like Simon is stepping in where he doesn't belong. Then, too, there is Simon's past.”
“Are you talking about his imprisonment?” She was a little surprised that he not only knew of her brother's stay in prison but was speaking about it openly.
“Of course. We can't pretend it never happened, Tess.”
Though he might be right, she didn't appreciate his judgmental tone. “He wasn't convicted of murder and rape, bishop.”
“Now you are being the one who is naïve. You are asking our community to trust their
kinner
with a man with a checkered past. No matter how much you try to whitewash it, he will always have a record.”
She sighed. “I suppose you're right.”
“Our ways survive because they're based on generations of tradition and a solid, firm foundation of faith. To be sure, some children fall through the cracks, but most people care for their
kinner
and want to be the ones who guide them.”
“Simon met a teenager the other day. He had a black eye and a bunch of bruises that were covered up by his clothes.”
Atle stiffened. “And he was Amish?”
“He wasn't Amish. But that didn't matter to Simon. He knew the teen needed to trust someone.”
“Who was he?”
“Does it really matter? It's not like you can stop him from being abused.”
“I can visit with his parents.” He shrugged. “I have friends in the English community. I could ask a pastor to pay him a call.”
“Like people visited with me and my parents?” Though she heard the tension and strainâand yes, hurtâin her voice, she continued. “Why did no one ever do anything to help us? Jeremy, Simon, and I were always hungry and bruised. We went to school that way.” Remembering how ashamed she'd felt, she blurted, “We even went to church that way.”
Bishop Atle looked back down at his clasped hands. “No one wanted to interfere.”
“Even after Jeremy left? Even after I left? You had to have known there was a reason for us leaving.”
He nodded slowly. “We knew. But times were different then.”
“Not that different. Jeremy and I left and Simon had to bear the brunt of it all.” Though it was her fault he'd been alone, she couldn't help but stare at the bishop. “Why didn't anyone reach out to Simon?”
“You know it weren't that easy.”
“Why not? Was it really because people respected my parents or treasured our rules and traditions more than the well-being of three children?” She lowered her voice, letting the bitterness shine through. “Or was it easier to pretend it wasn't happening?”
“I canna answer that.”
“I can't, either. I am as much to blame as anyone. I should have tried to take Simon away when I could. I think he needs this place, though. I think he needs it for himself.”
“Maybe what he needs is for you to have it.”
“Me? What? No. I was going to help him buy it, but it's not my problâ” She stopped herself just in time. Catching herself doing the very thing that she'd just accused the whole Amish community of doing.
Atle saw and smiled. “Tess, if you were to open a place for
anyone
to use, people might use it.”
“I don't understand.”
“Women could have sewing circles there. Men could play checkers or chess in bad weather. Young
kinner
could do art projects or be read to. And teenagers might have someplace to meet when, perhaps, they need a place.”
“They wouldn't come if I wasn't Amish.”
“They might if you get enough people on board and you were patient.” He stood up. “Think about that. Begin wishing for possibilities instead of clutching tightly to bitterness.”
She stood up, too. “
Danke,
Bishop Atle.”
“
Danke,
Tess. You have given me a lot to think about. And for that, I thank you.”
He turned and walked toward the men playing checkers, leaving Tess to walk back to the small house for sale. And to imagine
what would happen if she did what he suggested. What if she not only helped buy it but helped to run it? What if she moved back and lived in one of the upstairs rooms?
What would happen then?
It would change her life. It would force her to reconnect with her roots. She might even see her parents. But she'd also see Simon and maybe they'd even find a way to encourage Jeremy to come back . . . if he was still alive.
But more than anything, Simon would have another way to try to help a teenaged boy in need. And if they could help even one kid or one woman trapped in an abusive marriage? That one person would be enough.
Friday, October 23
I
t was one of those fall days that made a person happy simply to be alive. Amelia didn't need any reminders; she had learned the hard way to be thankful for each day. But that said, one couldn't deny that the Lord had outdone Himself.
Letting out a happy sigh, she looked around and smiled.
The sun was out, the sky was a bright blue, and the leaves on the trees surrounding them were shimmering in the afternoon light. Their bright colors of orange, red, and yellow were truly a sight to behold.
And their smell? Enticing.
Amelia breathed in deep. The air smelled fresh and clean, with just a faint undercurrent of smoke. Spirals of smoke drifted out from redbrick chimneys, dissipating in the breeze.
Impulsively, she turned to her escort. “Simon, I don't think I've felt this free and happy in weeks.”
Holding the reins on his courting buggy lightly, Simon smiled at her. “You certainly look happy. You're practically glowing.”
Okay, maybe she had been just a little too exuberant. “Hardly that.”
Still staring at her intently, he said, “You're right. Glowing isn't a good enough descriptor. You look beautiful, Amelia. Stunning. But the best part is that you look as happy as I've ever seen.”
“If I look that way, it's because I am happy.”
“I'm glad. I think the fresh air is doing you good.”
“I never realized how much I missed being outside until I was stuck in the house.”
He frowned. “I'm sorry about that. Someone should have taken you out for a buggy ride days ago. I should have thought of that and told your siblings.”
“You aren't responsible for such things.”
“Maybe not. But I like making sure you are taken care of.”
His words, so direct and so blunt, made her feel like blushing. Seeking to lighten things between them, she said, “Simon, I must be honest. I didn't even know you had a buggy.” She almost said she was especially surprised that he was driving a courting buggy, but she refrained.
He chuckled. “That's because I don't have one.” Looking amused by a private joke, he added, “Courting buggies ain't really my style, you know.”
She thought he looked very good driving one. Running a hand along the carefully sanded and stained wood, she glanced at him curiously. “Whose buggy is this, then? It's so beautiful; it looks like a work of art.”
“Marcus Mast's. It's his horse, too.”
The horse was a lovely palomino with a white mane and tail. She was a fancy thing, practically prancing in front of the buggy. Amelia loved her already. “What's her name?”
He rolled his eyes. “Buttercup.”
Amelia giggled. “I think I would pay money to hear Marcus coo at Buttercup. He's always so intense.”
“That he is.” Still looking amused, he said, “His intensity is why he allowed me to borrow Buttercup and the buggy for a few weeks. His wife is expecting a baby and he doesn't think topless buggies are safe now.”
“It's good he doesn't live in Indiana, then. Most of the orders there only have topless buggies.”
“I reckon you're right. But I didn't dare mention that. He hardly teased me at all about my need for this.”
“Why would he make fun of you about needing a buggy?”
“Because I'm almost thirty and needed to borrow a courting buggy to drive around my girl.”
“Did you tell him I was your girl?” She liked the sound of that.
“Of course. You are my girl, Amelia. You've got no choice in the matter anymore.”
She didn't actually want a choice, but she couldn't resist doing a bit of teasing on her own. “Did you just say that you borrowed this for a couple of weeks?”
“I did.”
“I guess we'll be going on a fair number of outings, then.”
“That was my plan. You can't go walking, and there's no way I'm going to sit in your living room and have everything I do be observed by all of your siblings.”
“You may have a point. Lukas and Levi would continue to eavesdrop.”
“They would. And then they'd watch me like a hawk to make sure I didn't do anything I shouldn't.”
She turned slightly so she could see his face better. “And what do you think they'd worry you would do?”
He opened his mouth. Shut it. Then shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Hmm.”
“But because you're my girl now, I'm not going to let you go.”
Oh, the things he said! “I guess it's a good thing that I wasn't too smitten with Pierce.”
He scowled. “Pierce didn't stand a chance with you. When I first heard he had called on you, I wanted to go right over to his house and tell him to leave you alone.”
“I'm glad you didn't. That would have scared him something awful.”
“Good.”
She rolled her eyes. “That isn't very kind.”
“I don't want to be kind where he is concerned. He shouldn't have been flirting with you.”
“He wasn't flirting. I think he was more interested in my family's money.”
He grunted. “Would you like me to go have a talk with him? I'd be happy to.”
“Ah,
nee
. Besides, you have nothing to worry about now.”
“To be sure, but I wouldn't have let him take you anywhere, most especially not just the two of you. I don't trust him.”
“I think he would have respected me.”
Simon glanced at her again, then gently guided Buttercup to the side of the road and pulled the break on the buggy. Looking completely serious, he murmured, “I respect you.”
Her mouth went dry. “I know that.”
He leaned closer, bringing his scent with the motion. “Do ya?” he asked softly. “Do you know that you're everything I've ever dreamed about?”
“Truly?”
“That I've thought about you for years? That I've been waiting and biding my time . . . waiting until you were old enough for me. Until I was brave enough to make that move?”
His words practically made her skin tingle. “I know now,” she whispered.
“Good. Because I need you to know, Amelia.” Reaching out, he clasped both of her hands in his. Ran his thumbs over her knuckles. Though his gaze was intense and his words were revealing, his touch comforted her.
It always had.
His palms were warm and his fingers calloused. He kept his fingernails trimmed neat and short but his cuticles were ragged. He had man's hands. Hands of a man who was used to taking care of things. He didn't push off responsibilities. He didn't shy from hard work or even dangerous situations. When the mill caught on fire, she knew that he'd been one of the first men to run into the burning warehouse to help. That was the man he was. He rushed into danger without a thought for the consequences.
That was no doubt one of the reasons that he'd fought on the streets and hung out with dangerous people and didn't try to get out of going to prison. Simon didn't run.
He hadn't even stayed away after he'd gotten out of prison. He'd come back to Charm and practically dared everyone to say he didn't have every right to be there.
“Amy?”
Startled, she lifted her chin.
“Jah?”
“If I kiss you, would you get mad?”
His eyes had turned, changing the hazel into something darker and even more compelling. Right then and there, she knew she couldn't have refused him even if she wanted to.
She definitely didn't want to.
“I won't get mad.”
He leaned closer, rubbed his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “Sure?” he breathed. “I don't want to rush you. I really don't want to scare you away, now that I've just gotten you.”
He wasn't rushing her. She'd felt as if she'd been waiting for this moment for years.
She hadn't been kissed before. She knew Rebecca had kissed some boy on a dare when she was a teenager, but Amelia had always felt too awkward to do anything like that.
Besides, both Lukas and Levi had always acted as if she was someone to watch over. She already felt bad that her three siblings had felt that she needed special attention because of their mother's passing. She hadn't wanted to give them more reasons to hover.
Later on, she'd only wanted one person's attentions. And he'd been aloof and careful.
But now he was here. Holding her hands and gazing at her as if she was the most perfect thing in his life.
Maybe she was. After all, he was the most perfect thing in hers.
“Just kiss me, Simon. If you please.”
She thought he might wait. Hesitate. Maybe ask if she was sure again. Instead, her words seemed to have pulled down the
last remaining barriers between what he wanted and what he felt he should have. Because, next thing she knew, Simon had curved his hands around her face, leaned close, and pressed his lips against hers.
It wasn't particularly gentle. It definitely wasn't tentative.
Instead, it was everything that she knew Simon to be. And everything she'd ever imagined.
Wanting to be closer, she relaxed against him and almost smiled when he made some noise in the back of his throat and kissed her again.
Time really did seem to stand still. All the pain that they'd both endured, all the time each had spent worrying about other things, worrying about their futures . . . it ceased to exist. Instead, all that mattered was that very moment. There in Simon's arms. At last. Feeling his strength. Enjoying his passion. Knowing that everything she'd hoped would happen was happening right then.
Sometimes reality so far surpassed mere dreams that it took her off guard.
When he at last pulled away, Simon was breathing hard. She was trembling. Unable to stop herself, she pressed her fingertips to her lips.
He watched her, then quickly averted his eyes.
“You okay?” he said at last, his voice gravelly.
“Oh, yes.”
That brought new warmth to his eyes. He chuckled. “I think it would be best if we continued this drive.”
Just as he was about to lift up the brake, she said, “That was worth waiting for, Simon.”
“It was, indeed.”
She'd been talking about her first kiss, of course. What was he referring to? For an instant, she considered asking, then decided she didn't need to know. It didn't really matter, anyway. Not in the slightest.
Buttercup clip-clopped along. Neither she nor Simon said another word for several long minutes. She was glad for the reprieve in conversation. She needed time to think about what had just happened . . . and what she hoped would happen in their future.
Then he looked her way. “Amelia, say I may take you out for another drive tomorrow. Don't make me wait.”
His voice was smooth, yet infused with something forceful. Intense. It made her feel wanted and fluttery.
Almost breathless. “I'm not going to make you wait. Not anymore.” She braced herself, half expecting him to say something cocky. Half expecting him to promise that he wouldn't pull over and kiss her senseless again.
But instead, he released a ragged sigh.
That was all she needed to be sure that what was happening was just as important to him as it was to her.