Authors: Tricia Goyer
“That’s amazing.”
“It’s not the best part.” He leaned forward. Even as he prepared to tell her, sweet warmth flooded over him. It was the same sensation he’d felt on the summit as he looked over the view. It was as if God’s presence was touching him down here too.
“When I pushed off the ground, I noticed something. I had leaped into an open area, and there was a small piece of blue fabric snagged on a tree branch.”
Sarah eyed her skirt, and sure enough, there was a small tear near the hem. “I had no idea …”
“There were also footprints, oh, about yer size,” he continued. “I called yer name, and I didn’t hear a response, but I knew they had to be yer footprints. They were fresh, and it looked as if you were favoring yer left foot. I wasn’t sure where you would have been heading going down this way, but after five minutes of walking, I heard something.” He leaned forward and his eyes widened. “It was the voice of an angel.”
“
Ach
, it was not!” Sarah laughed and picked up a stick to toss it at him. “Yer teasing me now.”
Jathan chuckled at her surprised expression. He enjoyed seeing her so flustered. “
Ja
, I guess I am. I jest guessed you were doing what you could to scare away the bears.” He stuck his fingers in his ears.
Sarah’s mouth dropped open, as if she didn’t believe what he’d just said. She balled her hand into a fist and leaned forward to punch his shoulder.
As she stood to reach him, a look of pain replaced the playful smile of a moment before. Her ankle gave out. As if in slow motion, she began to crumple, heading right for the fire.
Jathan stood and lunged. He stepped into the fire pit to do it, but he caught her, pushing her back. She fell to the ground with a cry. Flames rose around his foot, and he quickly stepped out of the fire pit. Moving around the fire, he hunched beside her.
“Sarah, that was close. You all right?”
“Oh …” Sarah moaned and opened her eyes. They looked
slightly glazed over as she peered down at his foot. “Are you all right?” she gasped. “Did you get burned?”
“Nah.” He shook his leg. “My boots are tough.”
“Is that the same foot the rock hit?” she asked, slowly standing up and returning to her spot on the log.
“
Jah
, a little burned, a little bruised. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
He nodded. It did feel a little hurt, but not burned.
“That — that was an amazing story. I know God was at work there.” Sarah attempted to keep her voice steady, but she winced and rubbed her ankle.
Jathan scooted closer. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think that’s needed. I’m sure it’s jest sprained.”
“We won’t know until I look. May I?”
Sarah nodded and bit her lip. Jathan sat crossed-legged in front of her. Then, ever so slowly, she stretched her leg out to him.
Jathan’s heart pounded as he untied her boot. He had to wiggle it back and forth to get the boot off. Her breathing quickened and he paused.
“Am I hurting you? Tell me if I’m too rough.”
“Uh,
ne
,
ne
. Yer fine.”
He glanced up at her. She was blushing.
Why, I think Sarah might be enjoying this …
Even though it was obvious she was in pain, there was a spark of interest in her gaze he hadn’t seen before.
He set her boot on the ground and then looked at her sock.
Sarah bent over and lifted up her skirt slightly to find the top of the knitted stocking. Jathan saw a flash of the skin on her knee and looked away, pretending to watch the fire.
“Ouch! Oh.” Sarah gasped. He looked back. She was rolling the stocking down and had almost gotten it over her ankle when the pain made her stop.
He reached for her hands and covered them with his. “Let me help you.”
She nodded and removed her hands. Jathan gently slid his thumbs under the sides of her stocking, stretching the fabric. Then, as carefully as he could, he slid the stocking the rest of the way off.
He cupped his hand under her heel, helping her hold it up. Her skin was snow white, except where there was swelling and discoloration. Jathan swallowed, and then cleared his throat. He was just trying to help her, but the moment felt intimate.
“Do you feel any numbness?” he asked.
“
ne
. Not numb, jest hurts real bad.”
He studied the sides of her leg, running his fingers down each side. She trembled. Was it from the pain? The cold? His touch?
“It looks like it’s still aligned. I don’t see any unusual angles.”
“You seem like you know what yer talking about. Are you a doctor, and I didn’t know it, Jathan?”
He liked the way she said his name. “Not a doctor, but every Amish man knows how to care for horses.” He stated that with confidence, because out of all the ways he’d failed to live up to his father’s expectations, he did know how to do that.
“First you tell me I’m a poor singer, then you compare me to a horse!”
“Uh, I didn’t mean …” he hurried to explain and then noticed her smile.
“
Ja
, but horses aren’t so clumsy and don’t make such a big deal out of a simple sprain,” she added.
“Sprains aren’t simple. I’ve heard they’re more painful than breaks. My
bruder
Otto had both and told me that was a fact.”
“You have a
bruder
?” She pulled her foot from his hold.
“Five
brieder
and three sisters. I’m the youngest.”
Sarah nodded and cast him a smile. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why yer so kind and accommodating. The youngest ones in a family are used to tagging along with everyone else. They’re happy to jest be included.”
Jathan took his handkerchief from his pocket and stood, then walked over to a small pile of snow. He scooped some up in the handkerchief, tied it off, and then brought the bundle back to the log. “Here, we need to put this on yer ankle. It’ll help the swelling.”
“But I’m cold already.”
“You have to.” Jathan put it on her ankle and then motioned for her to scoot closer to the fire. “Sit with yer side to the fire and yer ankle farther away so the snow doesn’t melt too fast.”
She did. When she settled, Jathan walked to the side of her that was open to the cold air. He sat beside her on the log and scooted close, positioning himself so his body protected her back from the cold. She stiffened at first, and then slowly relaxed until finally leaning her head back against his shoulder.
Sarah’s
kapp
smelled of laundry soap and sunshine. He wished she would take it off. Wished he could see her blonde hair as he had that day on the porch. But no, it would be improper. Even though they were alone, God would want him to respect Sarah. Jathan vowed to treat her just as he would if their whole community were watching, for God was greater than even their community … and he was watching.
As much as Jathan hated having to spend the night in the
woods, he was thankful he’d found Sarah. Thankful for the fire.
Tomorrow, they’d be able to make their way up the trail and down the hill … but tonight he would enjoy Sarah’s closeness, even if they were in the middle of the cold, damp, dark woods.
Then again, maybe he should be thankful she’d gotten lost. How else would he and Sarah have gotten this close so quickly? And they had a long night stretching ahead of them still.
S
arah thought about that old cabin Patty had found. What she wouldn’t do to have even a simple structure like that to protect them from the cold of the night. Their fire crackled in the flat open area. The area wasn’t much bigger than Mem’s kitchen. There were no ledges or outcroppings on the hillside to protect them from the cold spring wind, but the pines offered a bit of protection, despite the snow still heaped around them. Sarah sighed, realizing their small fire was all they could count on for warmth.
Well, not quite the only thing she could count on.
Sarah leaned her head against Jathan’s shoulder, thankful for his support. Thankful for his protection from the cold. She felt bad in a way. She had his shirt wrapped around her, and he was still taking the brunt of the cold air. She thought about offering it back or urging him to scoot closer to the fire, but she knew it would be no use. Jathan took his role as her protector seriously.
“So tell me about yer family,” she said, accepting the fact that hours stretched ahead of them. “I’m especially interested in yer sisters. To have six
brieder, ach
!”
“My sisters are great. In a way, they mothered me more than
Mem
. Until recent years, we had a dozen milk cows on the farm. My earliest memories are of summer evenings with my sisters milking the cows in the yard. The cows weren’t tied up. They let my sisters milk them while they happily chewed their cud.”
She heard the smile in his voice even though she couldn’t see it. She guessed there was a brightness in his eyes, too, but was afraid to look up to see. Their faces were too close. She didn’t want him to think she was having any affectionate thoughts … even though she was. The thoughts crackled within her mind just as the fire crackled by her side.
“My sisters love singing,” he continued. “They sang old hymns, and I can remember the words of many of them. They even sang as they milked.”
Jathan cleared his throat, and she sat up and turned to face him.
“There were ninety and nine that safely lay in the shelter of the fold, but one was out on the hills away, far off from the gates of gold. Away on the mountains wild and bare, away from the tender Shepherd’s care, away from the tender Shepherd’s care,” he sang, and then let his voice trail off. His voice was strong and clear. In a way, it surprised her that he’d just start singing like that since they hadn’t really spent much time together before this. But on the other hand, he obviously felt as comfortable with her as she did with him.
Sarah glanced around. “‘One was out in the hills … the mountains wild and bare’? I wonder what made you choose that song.” She wrinkled her nose and grinned.
Jathan shrugged, picked up a stick, and stirred the fire. “I’m not yet sure. It jest came to me.”
“Poor lost sheep.” Sarah stuck out her lower lip. “I feel so
bad.” She motioned to him to turn toward the fire so she could see him better, and he did.
“Oh no …” He waved his hands over the flames. “Do you not know the rest of the song?”
“I heard it long ago, when I was jest a child. My
opa
used to sing it. And even though I have an idea of what the words are, I’d love to hear you sing.”
Jathan didn’t hesitate. He cleared his throat again. “And all through the mountains, thunder riven, and up from the rocky steep, there arose a glad cry from the gate of heaven, ‘Rejoice! I have found my sheep!’”
Goosebumps rose on Sarah’s arms as he sang. She closed her eyes as he continued, feeling safe and protected, as if his voice were setting up a shield around them.
“And the angels echoed around the throne, ‘Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own! Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own.’”
Sarah sat quietly for a moment, aware of the damp log under her. She heard the hoot of an owl and the sound of the wind through the trees. The crackling fire warmed her, but inside she was warmer still.
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Danki.”
It was all she could think to say.
“That song was one of my sisters’ favorites — probably still is.”
“And yer
brieder
?”
“
Ach
, we’d get into so much trouble.” He pointed to a nearby tree. “I don’t think there was a tree within two miles in any direction that I didn’t climb.” He winked. “And I fell out of jest about all of them …” His voice trailed off, and she could see that a memory played in his mind.
“Oh
ne
. Why?”
“I was the little one trying to keep up with my
brieder
, remember?”
“Sounds like a
gut
Amish family. Perfect, if you ask me.”
“No family is perfect.” His words sliced through the air like the late-spring wind, sending a chill down her spine. “I think we all know how some folks appear — as if everyone is fine on the outside, but deep … Well, inside there’s more pain than anything.”
“You sound like you know this from experience.” She scooted back slightly. This was a side to Jathan she hadn’t seen yet. It surprised her.
He forced a smile. “I was jest getting warmed up with happy thoughts. Don’t wanna ruin that.”
“No family’s perfect,” she said, hoping it would show him she understood. “I’m here to listen if you’d like to talk.”
“
Ja
, well …” He got up and walked around her to adjust the snow pack on her ankle. “That is kind of you.”
When he returned to his spot on the log, they sat silently for a few minutes. She wanted to hear what he had to say, but was sure if she asked anything more about his family he would change the subject.
A grinding stirred in her chest, like sandpaper scraping over her heart. What was he hiding? Surely it must be painful if he couldn’t share. Had he lost someone like she had? She considered that question and realized loss comes in many forms.
“There’s one family story I hear retold at nearly every family gathering that I think you might like,” he finally said. “The story starts in the Great Depression. So many men and sometimes women were out of work after the 1928 stock-market collapse.”
“
Ja
, I remember learning about that in grade eight. Men took to walking the country seeking work. Most worked fer
food or a place to stay.” She looked around. “I guess sleeping out like this wouldn’t be unusual fer them.”
“And that’s what happened to Lewis Barkley.” Jathan took a tone that reminded Sarah of her father when he launched into one of his stories.
She smiled and made eye contact, letting Jathan know she was listening.
“Well, Lewis was wandering in Ohio after his wife died,” Jathan started, “and he found solace among the Amish. He spent seven years working fer a young woman who’d lost her husband. After the seventh year, he approached the bishop and asked to become Amish. Only after he got approval from the church did he ask the widow to be his wife. They had three daughters … one of whom was my
oma
.”