Brides of Ohio (30 page)

He almost slipped it back, not wanting to violate their privacy, but something made him open it.

Jonah folded the letter and leaned back in his chair. He was shaking. Pa had questioned God, too. Had the same questions, the same anger. The way he felt about his baby daughter’s death was the same kind of feelings Jonah had about the war.

He glanced at the letter again. Pa had stopped going to church for a time? He could hardly fathom the thought. Joseph Kirby was the most faithful man he knew. Then he searched his memory and suddenly remembered, vaguely, him not coming for a few weeks. Ma wouldn’t say why. Now he knew.

Laying the letter aside, he opened the Bible to Genesis and read the creation story for himself. Once. Twice. He’d never thought about the story like that before and now saw the same truth in it Pa had. But something else Pa wrote niggled at the back of his mind.

“But I am not the Creator of all things. I’m just a man.”

It reminded him of a passage he hadn’t read in a very long time. He turned to Job, the thirty-eighth chapter, and read: “Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me. Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof; when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?”

Jonah bowed his head, feeling foolish and scared and yet thankful. “Four years I questioned and accused You, and in Your mercy, You didn’t give me what I deserved,” he whispered and then fell to his knees. “I had no right to question and charge the Creator of all things. I repent of what I’ve said and how I’ve acted. Forgive me, Lord. Help me find peace and Your presence in my life again.” Something loosened in his chest, and tears fell as fast and heavy as the rain outside.

I
thought by now I wouldn’t still be doing this.”

Adele looked at her husband as he cleaned his gun. They were sitting in the parlor. Will and Cyrus had gone for the day, Jacob was out in the barn, and Anne was upstairs asleep.

“Some things may take more time,” she said soothingly. “You
are
trying.”

Jonah slowly nodded. “I just want it all to stop.” He finished with his gun and, wearily leaning it against the wall, looked over at her. Frustration clouded his green eyes.

“Give God time to work,” she said.

He gave her a small smile and nodded. He started to reach for his newspaper but paused for a moment. “I never thanked you, Addie.”

“Thanked me? For what?” Adele looked up from her sewing.

“For giving me what for that day.”

Adele bit her lip, realizing he was talking about the day Erich’s things had arrived and they had argued. She still regretted her harsh words. “Oh Jonah, no. I should have been more patient.”

“No. God worked through you to finally make me listen. I’ve thanked Him. Now I’m thanking you.”

“You are very welcome,” she said softly.

He smiled and turned to his newspaper, but Adele watched him for a moment before returning her attention to her sewing.

A month and a half ago, she had returned from church to find Jonah reading his father’s Bible. Since then he had slowly changed. He talked now. Their conversations, while peppered with the mundane, included spiritual matters and what exactly had happened with her faith while he was at war. There were moments when he would get angry, moments when he fumed about something he’d read or something they discussed. But he no longer remained angry. He was beginning to let it go.

And he wasn’t just talking to her. To her great surprise, he and Daniel were exchanging letters. Once, she had gently asked what they wrote about. “Things best left between soldiers,” he’d explained. She understood immediately and hadn’t pressed him further. After hearing the little he had told her, Adele wasn’t eager to discuss the specifics of his time in the war and was glad he had his brother to discuss such things with.

His walks had diminished to about once a week, and his nightmares were all but gone. But he still felt too uncomfortable to go anywhere without his gun, a problem as he was very eager to return to church. Out of respect, he did not want to so much as carry it across the threshold of the sanctuary door.

Adele made a habit of having Reverend Warren and Minnie over for Sunday dinner. Jonah greatly appreciated this, and they were, in fact, coming tomorrow after service.

“I saw that you and Miss Williams finished that quilt for Katherine this afternoon,” Jonah said.

“Yes. I am glad Clara could come over to help,” Adele replied then smiled. “I think Will was, too. I know he appreciated you letting him use the buggy to take her home.”

“Well, he says the house is finished.” While he hadn’t actually gone and helped the young man, Jonah had graciously given him more time during the week to work on it. “He’s ready if he can muster up the courage to ask for her.” Jonah opened the
Delaware Gazette
and laid it out across the secretary where he was sitting.

“I am sure by this time next year the school board will need to hire a new teacher,” she replied. “Jacob will be sad. He always liked Clara for his teacher.” She continued her sewing for a moment. “Katherine’s baby is not due until next month, so I am going to enter the quilt in the fair this week.” Adele snipped a thread. “I am glad we are going. Jacob is looking forward to showing his calf.”

Jonah had more than made amends with her son when he began to help him with the calf he had been taking care of all summer. But he still sometimes seemed hesitant toward the boy.

Jacob looks and acts so much like Nathaniel
, she thought. She noticed talk of Nathaniel seemed to bother Jonah, so she tried to avoid it. She imagined he was still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he had survived the war while his best friend had not.

She held up the garment she was working on, a new dress for Anne. To their surprise, the little girl never left. Instead, she shadowed Adele like a ghost.

Reverend Warren had made inquiries, going up to Edinburgh, Ohio, and even as far as Millville to see if she belonged to anyone there. But his search turned up nothing. It had been agreed that she would stay with them until her family eventually claimed her, but Adele secretly hoped no one would. She had become quite attached to Anne, and she suspected Jonah had as well.

She caught him taking a glance at the little dress before he turned back to the
Delaware Gazette.
“You have won her over, you know.”

“I have?” he asked, looking up in surprise. “I thought you were her favorite.”

“Yes, but you have not noticed the way she looks at you. She smiles when she sees you as if you were Will or Jacob.” Anne was good friends with the pair now, but she had never really taken to Cyrus. She still hid in Adele’s skirts and stared at him with wide eyes whenever he was near. As Adele lowered the dress to her lap, she saw Jonah’s mouth twitch. “I know you are pleased, Jonah Michael Kirby. You may as well smile.”

He continued to read, but as he did so, a gentle smile spread across his face. It was the first genuine smile in so very long that Adele’s heart pounded for joy. He looked like his old self again, and she paused to gaze at him.

He glanced up. Their eyes caught, and she felt a strange vibration in the air as they looked at each other. Jonah suddenly looked uncomfortable and returned to his newspaper. Adele blinked, and as she resumed her work on Anne’s dress, her hands shook and she felt flushed. She shrugged off the feeling—she was simply thrilled to see him better.

Thank You again and again, Father, for working through me to heal my dear … friend.

A
dele, you’ve outdone yourself again,” Reverend Warren said as he leaned back in his chair.

Jonah watched his wife take the compliment with a smile and a thank-you. She really had prepared a delicious meal. “What did you say the potatoes were?” he asked.

“Knödel,”
she replied. “You call them dumplings, which I always thought was a funny word.”

Jonah couldn’t help but chuckle, along with the others. “Not to all these Scotch-Irish ears,” he teased.

Her mouth pursed in good humor as she and Minnie rose to clear the table. “Whatever you call them, you certainly ate enough of them,” she replied tartly.

Jonah found himself smiling and looking into her brilliant eyes. A strand of hair escaped the braid she wore like a crown around her head, and he wished he could smooth it back for her.

When Jacob asked the reverend a question, Jonah suddenly realized what he was doing. Rebuking himself, he looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah saw compassion and understanding sweep across his wife’s face. Good. Let her think he’d had a stray thought about the war.

She turned away and helped Anne carry a plate into the kitchen.

“Well, Jonah,” the reverend said, “Jacob wants to show me that calf he intends to enter in the county fair. Do you mind?”

“No, Jake’s been doing real well with it,” he said, and the three headed outside. They went down to the pasture where the cows were out grazing, and Jacob rounded up his Jersey calf and brought her to the fence.

“Walk her around, Jake, so we can see her,” Jonah said.

The boy obeyed and looked to him for approval.

Jonah gave him a small smile and nodded.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she, Reverend Warren?” Jacob asked eagerly.

“She surely is. I know you’ll place well this week.”

“Thank you.” Jacob loosed the animal from the rope he’d gently looped around her neck and gave her a swat. She ambled off, and he climbed up on the fence in front of them. “Is it breaking the Sabbath to go fishing today?”

“Well,” the reverend began, his eye sliding good-naturedly toward Jonah. “The Sabbath is supposed to be a day of rest, and I’ve always seen fishing as a restful kind of activity.”

“May I, Uncle Jonah?”

“Yes. Let your ma know where you’re going.”

“Thank you!” He scrambled over the fence and made a beeline for the house.

Jonah and the reverend looked out over the cattle for a few minutes before the clergyman turned to him. “How have you been doing, Jonah?”

Jonah had known Reverend Warren all his life. The question wasn’t just polite conversation. “I want to come back to church.”

“I know, but I also know something’s holding you back. Is it spiritual?”

“No.” Jonah nodded toward his rifle, which he unfortunately hadn’t failed to grab as he left the house. “I can’t seem to let go of some things.” He paused for a moment, not wanting to voice what he’d been thinking the past several days. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should have been sent down to the asylum in Columbus.”

Reverend Warren frowned. “I wasn’t going to say anything to Adele or your brother, but a lot of things could have been avoided if they had consulted me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember my nephew, Andrew?”

Jonah nodded. The reverend’s brother lived ten miles west of Ostrander and had visited with his family frequently as Jonah was growing up. Andrew Warren had been a fun-loving young man who wanted to be a minister like his uncle.

“He was very badly wounded early on in the war,” the reverend continued. “They weren’t sure if he would make it. His ma went down to the hospital in Washington to nurse him. They ended up discharging him from service. Physically, he was all right. But his mind … I visited them several times after they brought him home.”

He looked Jonah in the eye. “The young man I saw wasn’t Andrew. Not the one I’d once known, at any rate. He was afraid of everything and couldn’t keep still. And he would go off into the woods to be by himself.”

Jonah looked at Reverend Warren in alarm as his heart began to pound. He had confided in the clergyman several weeks ago about his walks.