The Revealing (27 page)

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I haven’t begun to give you anything.”

“But you have, believe me. Without you I’d be nothing. You’ve given me encouragement, and faith, and hope that
things will work out, in the end. You’ve given me the courage to return to Stoney Ridge. And now . . . to stay.” He took her hands in his and held them close to his heart. “Now you must give me one more thing . . . you must believe in me. You must believe I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“About what?”

“About . . . other things that are still . . . unfinished.”

She didn’t believe him. Not entirely. It wasn’t that she didn’t fully trust him, because she did. There was something he wasn’t telling her, something he didn’t want her to know. And even if he was telling her everything, there was still Sarah to consider. Still, her instinct told her to wait for him—that he would tell her everything when he was ready.

She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him her answer, feeling a bone-deep happiness she didn’t know was possible to feel, this side of heaven, as his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her against his chest. It was a perfect moment.

Soon . . . she would have to face her brother. She reached one hand down to her pocket and patted it. Good. Tums were still there.

By the time Naomi and Tobe arrived back at Eagle Hill, the sun had almost disappeared and the air had thickened with hazy twilight. She said goodbye to him at the hole in the privet, slipped through it, and slowed her walk to a crawl. She was dreading this moment, had been dreading it for months now. She took two Tums and chewed them fast and hard.

In the house, she took her cape and bonnet off, hung them on the wall peg by the back door, and walked into the living room to talk to Galen. He was writing bills at his desk. Naomi noticed his tense jaw and how he was clenching his pen. The guilt she felt about keeping something so important
from her brother brought her an instant headache. Where had all her bravery gone?

She tested a please-don’t-be-mad-at-me smile that usually worked on Galen, but he didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge her presence in any way. “I . . . I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

He radiated a stony silence. This was worse than she thought it would be. Maybe she should just wait until he was ready to talk. As she turned to go to the kitchen, she heard him say, “The worst thing is how deceitful you’ve been.”

She stopped and turned around. “I never lied to you.”

“You never told me the truth, either.”

Her heart fell. Gone was the warmth and affection that usually flowed between them. She hated that she had done this—brought this kind of hurt to her brother. He had never been anything but kind and caring toward her; she couldn’t even remember a time when he’d been angry with her. Glancing down, she noticed that her hands had curled themselves into fists. Finger by finger, she relaxed. “Please, let me explain,” she began, hoping he would hear her out.

“There’s no need. Tobe Schrock has a strong influence on you.”

A protective anger over Tobe buoyed her strength. “What about my influence on him, Galen?” Her chin went up a notch. “Have you considered that?”

He turned back to the bill he was writing.

“We’re staying in the church. We’re not leaving. It’s decided.”

Galen’s hand stilled. Slowly, he turned to stare at her in wonder. She nearly smiled at his stunned look. Nearly.

“It’s true. We just discussed it. Tomorrow we’ll go to the bishop and set the date. Tobe has to be baptized first.” She
walked over to him. “I’m so sorry to have kept this from you. Truly, truly sorry.”

Relief and disbelief flooded his face. “I only want what’s best for you.” His eyes softened and his voice grew shaky. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

As he said that, as soon as she heard his voice wobble, tears lodged in her throat. Galen dipped his head. “Rose said . . . she thought I was partly to blame. She said I caused you to feel you had to keep it secret.”

“Maybe a little.” Naomi smiled, wiping away a tear that was rolling down her cheek. “Maybe a lot. But I don’t regret my choice. Getting married the way Tobe and I did—it wasn’t meant to hurt you, Galen. It’s just that . . . it’s just . . .”

When Galen looked up, his eyes were shiny with moisture. “You fell in love.”

He said it so softly she wondered if it was more his thought than his voice she’d heard. Maybe she’d only hoped he would say it. “I fell in love. And love does extraordinary things to people.”

The next morning, Rose stood by the kitchen window and watched Tobe and Naomi walk together from the buggy after returning from the bishop’s home, where they had gone to set a date for a wedding. What a mystery love was: the small figure of this strange strong girl, the tall figure of her own stepson, who seemed even taller since he had fallen in love with Naomi.

They stopped and turned when they saw David Stoltzfus striding up the driveway of Eagle Hill. David dropped by Eagle Hill every other day to check on Molly, he said, though
he always accepted the invitation of a cup of coffee in the kitchen with Rose and Vera. On this day, Rose saw Naomi hurry back through the privet and Tobe remain outside with David for a long while.

The two walked together to the porch, then sat on the steps, deep in conversation. Bethany had left the window open to air out the kitchen after burning a pan of granola in the oven. Rose crossed the room to close it and stopped abruptly as she heard Tobe mention the name of Jake Hertzler.

“Why does God allow innocent people to get hurt? My father wasn’t a bad man. He was a good man who was trying to help people with their money. God let him die for it. It’s like God has no sense of fair play.”

Rose held her breath. She wondered how David Stoltzfus might respond to a comment like that. If anyone but Tobe said it, Vera would have called it blasphemous. But David Stoltzfus didn’t seem at all shocked or put off. In fact, he asked a few questions to encourage Tobe to keep talking.

Tobe wondered why a loving God could be so unjust to allow Jake Hertzler to have the freedom he seemed to experience. David Stoltzfus had an answer for that. He said it was God’s plan to test men’s love and goodness for each other. “It’s easy to love God,” David said. “Nobody has any problem in loving our heavenly Father. The problem is to love people who have sinned against us.”

Tobe didn’t respond and Rose backed away from the window. Would this ever go away? she wondered. Jake Hertzler’s hold on her family went on and on. No one seemed to be able to move forward—not Bethany, not Tobe. Maybe . . . herself too. She had tried so hard to not allow vengeance to take hold of her heart.

A little later, when David came into the kitchen and sat at the table for a cup of coffee, Rose couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to talk to him. They had so much in common: their spouses had passed, they were trying to fill the roles of both mother and father to their children. He liked to talk and he was never in a hurry, unlike Galen, who wasn’t much of a talker and was always on to the next thing. At first, she felt a little nervous to see David stroll up the driveway of Eagle Hill; she knew he must be busy with the Bent N’ Dent and settling his family into the farm. But soon she realized he liked people, he liked visiting, talking. It was nice to be around someone who thought the way she thought, felt the way she felt, understood what she was experiencing. She shouldn’t compare David to Galen, but she wondered if she and Galen would ever be able to see eye to eye about children. About Tobe.

During recess one morning, a crowd of children surrounded Jesse Stoltzfus as he sat on the ground and began to unravel one of his socks. Mim sidled a little closer, trying to figure out what he was up to. Whistling through the gap in his front teeth, Jesse wrapped the yarn from his sock around a dried-up old apple. He kept winding and winding, and after a few minutes, he had made a ball.

What was it about boys and balls? If there was snow or a stone or an apple and a sock, there was a ball. And if there was a ball, there was a game. She knew this because of her brothers, Sammy and Luke, who turned any and every thing into a ball. Eggs from the henhouse, pillows from their beds, socks from their sock drawer.

When Jesse had tied a knot to finish off the ball, the children ran to the bases. He looked over at her, standing near the tree where the children carved their initials at the end of each school term, and he waved to her. “Come on and play with us, Mim. Put away your notebook.”

She shook her head. She had absolutely no talent for hitting or catching a ball and had given up, humiliated long ago.

He tossed the ball to Luke so the game could get underway, slipped his bare foot into his shoe, and walked toward her.

She ignored him when he stood in front of her. “I have work to do, and you distract me.”

“The Mrs. Miracle column?”

“Yes.” Mim squinted at Jesse. “And don’t you dare say a word.”

“Not me.” He plopped himself on the ground next to her. “Your secrets are safe with me. Half the time, I don’t even listen.”

That she believed.

“I don’t mean that. Actually, I do. I always mean what I say. I just don’t always mean to say it out loud.”

“Jesse, why don’t you just go play softball with your sock apple ball?”

He didn’t budge. “Why don’t you ever play softball?”

“I can’t hit.”

“You’re going to have to play in the end-of-year game. Eighth graders versus the sixth and seventh graders. Teacher Danny is playing for them to even out the teams. ’Cuz of me, due to my athletic prowess.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t. I really can’t hit.”

“We need every player. We have to win.” He frowned. “Can you catch?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “But sometimes, I can throw a ball and get it pretty close to where it’s supposed to be.”

“You mean, pitch?”

She nodded.

“Risky,” he said. “I like that in a girl.” He looked up at the budding leaves on the tree for a moment. “Miriam, my lovely lass. Have you ever heard of a knuckleball?”

She sensed a trap.

16

B
rooke Snyder was naturally nosy and Eagle Hill was turning out to be a place of high drama—always a compelling curiosity to her. Something big had happened the other day but she couldn’t tell what and not knowing was driving her crazy. Midday, a buggy had arrived with two very serious and grim-looking Amish men. An hour or so later, Brooke watched from the guest flat window as the two climbed back into their buggy, laughing and smiling and joshing each other.

But all afternoon, she noticed that the Schrock family looked serious and grim. Even those two little boys seemed to sense something was awry when they came home from school. Normally hooting and howling, they went about their chores on the farm subdued, unnaturally quiet.

Brooke would have liked to question Mim Schrock about what earthshaking news those two Amish men might have delivered, but the girl was studiously avoiding her after she had uncovered Mrs. Miracle’s true identity and revealed it to her. Perhaps . . . she should have waited for the big reveal. She hadn’t meant to alienate Mim and cut off her information source. She was just so pleased with herself for figuring it out!