The Guardian (23 page)

M
aryanna had been having such an unexpectedly good time till Joshua brought up his pet. And his startling talk of marriage came clear out of nowhere. What about just getting to know each other?! Although, now that she considered it, she wasn’t positive he’d meant a word of his ill-conceived proposal.

It was nearly embarrassing as she relived their frivolous banter earlier. Had they just felt freer somehow, riding together alone like this under the heavens?

To think that only a few minutes prior she was beginning to wish the evening might last. Not so now. But she was certainly not going to be the one to recommend they head home. Was there any hope of returning to the carefree sharing they’d so surprisingly enjoyed?

She waited, hoping he might say something. Then, thinking back to how they’d left things—well, how
she
had—Maryanna supposed it was her place to speak first. But what to say? A woman didn’t refuse a man’s proposal because of his fondness for animals, whether indoor pets or not.

“Would ya care for some ice cream, Maryanna?”

Was he really asking to treat her after what she’d said?

“Would
you
?” she managed to say.

“It’s still early yet, so why not?”

They were giving questions for answers. Regrettably there was no looking back, no way to repair the damage she’d done. Maryanna sighed and clenched her folded hands. Given another chance, she still would not know how to respond any differently. Truth be told, she loathed the thought of a rabbit or a cat living in her house, let alone a loud parrot.

But now, Buster,
he
was a right nice pet.
An outside dog—living where animals belong.

“All right,” she said at last, though the exciting energy had all but disappeared from the confines of the carriage. They were merely going through the motions till he’d take her home and they would say good-night.

Maryanna felt certain she’d never be invited out again. Not by Joshua Peachey, anyway.

Long after returning Maryanna to her home, Joshua mentally kicked himself for glibly proposing marriage to the woman he loved. And surely it was love that made him feel the way he did. He wanted to care for her—and for her children—for all the days of his life.

Joshua pulled back the covers on his bed but did not retire for the night. Instead, he strode back and forth in the dim light of his lonely room, watching for the Esh farmhouse windows to darken, as well. “What was I thinking?” he muttered, pushing his hands through his hair.

Sweet Maryanna had made it all too clear what stood in his way, but the thought of giving up his beloved pets just because of her sharp retort irritated him. The animals had become his
family, sharing his lonely days—a comfort to him. And, too, Suzanne had always had room in
her
heart for pets.

He wore himself out going up and down the steep staircase, having first forgotten to cover Malachi’s cage for the night, then going back to check on Honey Lou’s water dish. Back and forth, as if a nervous exercise.

Joshua slipped to the kitchen window and stood there, just staring at the moon, his hands at his side. He’d promised himself he would be prudent and move slowly where Maryanna was concerned, taking into consideration her regard for Benuel. Yet the careless words had slipped out, and it was too late to retrieve them. He’d offended her and probably came across as much too eager.

I should’ve kept my mouth shut… .

Honey Lou meandered near, shunning the bed in the corner as she purred loudly. The cat rubbed against his ankle, rumpling his pajamas.
I’ve ruined my chances,
he thought, disheartened as he reached down and lifted Honey Lou to his chest.

“Did ya have a nice time?” her mother asked as Maryanna sat down at the table. Mamm slid a tumbler of homemade root beer over to her.

“It was all right.”

“Well, not by the looks of ya.”

Maryanna shook her head slowly. “I must not have been thinkin’ too clearly, accepting a date with such a man.”

“Ach, wasn’t he kind to you?”

Maryanna didn’t feel comfortable going into detail. “Joshua was just fine, Mamm.” She sighed as she relived the evening. “I’ll just leave it at that.”

“So it
was
Joshua, then. All right.” Mamm sipped her own glass of root beer. “Sorry I asked.”

Now she felt bad, pushing her own mother away like this. “No … ain’t your fault. I just …” She stopped. Dare she tell her Mamm how she’d turned down a marriage proposal over a trio of pets?

“Turkey Dan gave me a private message for ya,” Mamm said. “Took me aside, away from the children.”

Maryanna tensed. “Oh?”

“He said he’d be callin’ on ya next Sunday evening, after supper.”

She lowered her head.
Oh, goodness.
Was she ready to spend time with yet another man?

“He’s awfully nice,” Mamm said, her face softening. “And you’d never have to work another day in that greenhouse, ya know.”

The remark smote her heart. “Mamm, I
love
what Benuel built for us. I surely do.”

“Didn’t mean to meddle, dear.”

“I have my opinion, is all,” stated Maryanna. Opening the door to dating widowers was laden with problems.

She thought again of Joshua’s impulsive comment. And for the life of her, Maryanna didn’t know why she’d shared her thoughts without restraint during their carriage ride. She ought to have known they could only ever be neighborly friends.

Nothing more.

Just as the sun was coming up Sunday morning, Jodi watered the potted patio plants prior to her early run. The dawn was less humid—a good thing—but already she felt things warming up. And minutes later, as she jogged the now familiar route,
she considered the fifth-grade position that had just popped up in Bangor, Maine, not thrilled about moving that far away.

On the flip side, it wasn’t sensible to be too particular this late in the game, even though she’d put away enough money to coast for several months, or longer if she ended up subbing in her own district … or Trent’s. Her passion for teaching had driven her since being hired in Arlington, but oddly, she was reluctant now.

So she ran faster than usual to work things out in her head. Nearby, a handful of purple martins soared from their tall four-sided birdhouses, and in the distance, the golden sun floated over the horizon line. This early morning hour had become her second favorite time of day. The twilight run with Rosaleen and Barbara Yoder had taken first place. They’d urged her last week to think of coming back to Lancaster County for the Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon in September, and while she rather liked being welcomed and included, she still hadn’t decided.

Jodi once again passed the spot where she’d found little Sarah Esh nine days ago, lost and crying. The memory of that discovery, and the child’s family—Maryanna especially—had embedded itself in Jodi’s mind. Each day this past week, she’d had to purposefully keep herself from driving to Hickory Hollow as she kept busy following up on teaching leads, only to learn she was a few minutes or days too late. She had also talked to Trent by Skype quite frequently, including Friday, when he’d flown to Japan. And then again last night, when it was already this morning in eastern Asia. He was jet-lagged and glad he’d arrived a day before needing to report to the Japan Exchange and Teaching Programme coaches. He admitted how terribly he already missed her.

It was hard to think about Trent so far away … and Karen even farther. Jodi needed to pull herself out of the doldrums and
do something these last few days before Scott and Paige arrived home. The thought of not seeing little Sarah and Maryanna again once she returned home to Vermont was disheartening. And when Jodi spied a tall white silo in the distance to the east, she knew exactly where she wanted to spend the rest of today—this Sunday was a no-Preaching day for the Esh family.

What could I give as a surprise?
she wondered, wanting to do something to thank them for their kindness and, most of all, acceptance of her as an outsider. Maryanna grew the most gorgeous flowers in her gardens all around the house, and in the greenhouse, too. So flowers were out. There was also plenty of produce thriving in the fertile soil surrounding their stable and woodshed.

But the town practically rolls up on Sundays, so there’s nowhere to shop.
So what could Jodi bring as the perfect farewell gift for Maryanna and the children?

D
uring dessert, there was a gentle knock at the back door. Maryanna rose quickly, having just noticed the dark blue car parked down toward the end of the lane. “Ach, children—Jodi’s back!”

Sarah let out a little yelp and scampered to the door. Maryanna didn’t have the heart to shoo her daughter away, not when Sarah had knelt at her bed again this morning, her tiny hands folded in prayer.

Maryanna greeted the young woman, who looked clean and neat as always, especially minus any eye makeup. She wore the long pale blue skirt and beige blouse. “
Willkumm,
Jodi … so nice to see ya.”

“I hoped you might be home.”

Sarah raised her arms to Jodi, who leaned down quickly to give her a hug. She babbled to Jodi in Deitsch, looking sweet in her for-
gut
clothes. “I prayed you’d come see us again, Jodi.”

Maryanna told Jodi what Sarah had just said, and Jodi beamed. “Come have a piece of strawberry pie and ice cream with us,” Maryanna said. She laughed lightly, adding, “When I think about it, the kitchen table is the most important furniture
in the house—it’s where we talk, pray, and eat. And entertain our special guests.” She smiled at Jodi. “It’s so
gut
to see you.”

Following Maryanna with Sarah’s hand in hers, Jodi accepted the chair little Sarah pulled out for her. She spoke to each of the children warmly, careful to include all four.

“I was anxious to see you before I leave for home in a few days,” Jodi said when she was seated.

Maryanna noticed she wore no earrings this time. “You say you’re leavin’ so soon?”

“Yes, Scott and Paige will be home this Wednesday.”

The children’s faces wilted, especially Sarah’s, when Maryanna translated in Deitsch.

And then, just that quick, Maryanna recalled what Ned Peachey had come over to ask her last Monday morning. “Oh dear, I nearly forgot. One of the fathers on the school board was here lookin’ to contact you recently.”

Jodi frowned. “Me?”

“‘Twas Ned Peachey, wanting to know the next time you dropped by.”

Jodi glanced at Benny and Tobias, who were sitting together on the bench. “Am I in trouble for the lesson time I had with the children?” She paused, looking now at Maryanna. “Is that why Ned wants to meet with me?”

Maryanna shook her head. “That’s not the reason, I can assure you.”

“I guess we should take Jodi over to Ned’s after dessert,” Benny said. “Ain’t so, Mamma?”

“Would ya feel comfortable ridin’ in the carriage with us, Jodi?” asked Maryanne.

“Or I can drive us, if you’d rather,” Jodi offered.

“Well, we don’t ride in cars on the Lord’s Day,” Maryanna let her know. “It’s against the church ordinance.”

The children leaned forward, curious eyes on Jodi. Suddenly, Maryanna wondered if they, too, suspected what Ned had in mind to ask the Englischer.

During the ride in the delicate, boxlike carriage, Jodi and Maryanna sat on the only bench seat as little Sarah nestled in Jodi’s lap, her cloth doll, Engel, in her arms. Behind them, in the small area near the back of the buggy, sat Benny, Leda, and Toby.

The leisurely pace and the sound of the horse’s steady breathing and its hooves plodding against the road gave Jodi an otherworldly sensation. It was as if she’d been propelled back to another era.

She saw things she’d never noticed before when driving—the shape of tree branches sculpted by the wind and the dappled sunlight showering down through copious leaves. And she saw Buster wagging his tail at the end of Joshua’s lane, a near smile on his striking canine face.

Maryanna made good use of the time, asking the children to practice singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children” in German. The sweet unison blending of their voices touched Jodi.

Benny asked his mother if he could tell Jodi about practicing the
“Loblied”
with his Dawdi Zeke.

Maryanna agreed. “It’s something I’ve asked Benny to memorize before I’ll let him sit with his grandfather over on the men’s side of the church,” she explained. “A very special ritual for a boy, when he’s old enough to sing it.”

“Jah, and that hymn’s real long, too. It has four verses with seven lines,” Benny added, sounding excited. “And it’s in German, so I still have a lot of practicing to do.”

Toby piped up. “Practice makes perfect.”

“That’s a terrific goal.” Jodi laughed. “And there’s another way to say that, by the way:
Perfect
practice makes perfect.”

Benny laughed behind her, and Jodi hugged Sarah.

“You’re ever so
gut
with them,” Maryanna said, looking fondly at her. “All the children. Even the bishop noticed.”

Jodi’s mother, too, had observed this from the time Jodi was eight years old, the year she began asking to help in the church nursery. Jodi had even subsidized her appetite for books as a young teen with baby-sitting jobs.

Later, Toby described how he thought little Sarah had tumbled out the back of the carriage. “She leaned over so far that
kerplop
, she fell out onto her head.”

Jodi winced at the vision of the precious dumpling tumbling onto the road like that.

“No wonder there was a knot on her forehead,” Toby said, sounding empathetic.

“Jah, no wonder,” Leda said more quietly.

Jodi wished Karen could see her now. Never in her sister’s dreams would she have expected Jodi to be received like this—even doted upon—by an Amish family.

“I’d like to give your family a gift,” Jodi mentioned. “Something you might need or want, just to remember me by.”

“Awful nice of you, dear, but we do have our happy memories, ya know.” Maryanna smiled brightly. “And Sarah right here to remind us, too, of how special you are to all of us.”

“Well, if you think of something, let me know.”

Then, looking at Jodi holding her youngest, Maryanna said softly, “Seems to me
you’re
the gift, Jodi Winfield.
You.
And the splendid answer you were to our prayers in finding our Sarah.”

Jodi shifted in the seat, feeling humbled and deeply moved.