Threads of Grace (14 page)
She dipped a cotton cloth into the washbasin on the dresser and was just about to wipe away the color when something stopped her. Instead she sank onto the bed and began to pray.
Ach
, dear
Gott
, help me to find some thread of myself to offer to this new husband—this one who would be a
fater
in truth to Abel. Help me to forget the past, to trust. Bless Seth and help me, help me to indeed be brave and to bring honor to this marriage and family.
Then she straightened her spine and wiped off the paint with clean strokes. But she could still feel its mark and the warmth of Seth’s cheek, blending them into a togetherness that was rich with promise.
C
ome here a minute, will you, Seth?” Jacob asked formally. “Miss Mason—if you’ll give us a second?” Jacob had hold of Seth’s arm and was steering him toward the barn and away from the corral.
“What?” Seth asked.
“You’ve got blue paint on your cheeks.”
“
Ach
, I thought I got it all off.” Seth swiped an arm across his face.
“I don’t want to know why you’re painting your face, but this buyer is going to think you’re a weird Amish man doing some weird Amish thing.”
“I’ll go wash my face. Just keep her busy.”
“Yeah, right.”
Seth laughed. His brother hated this aspect of the horse-selling business—the women. Sure, there were male customers too, but there were also a lot of curious women. In this case, Jennifer Mason was blond, interested, and a rich daddy’s daughter.
“Listen,” Jacob said. “Behave yourself around this one, all right? You don’t want Grace to see anything.”
“What is there to see exactly, Jacob?”
His brother sighed. “Seth, you’re a born flirt, and you know it.”
Seth chuckled. Women were too much for Jacob, who had been hounded by females for years before marrying Lilly. “Maybe you should do the flirting, then.”
Jacob gave a snort. “Nobody’s flirting. We’re both married men, in case you need reminding. Now, mind what I say.”
Seth watched him stalk off, then ducked into the barn to scrub hastily at his face again with lye soap and a bucket of water.
G
race left the porch with a new determination in her heart, a commitment to try harder with Seth. Her steps slowed when she saw the young woman talking with Jacob in the near corral. She had long, loose blond hair and wore a tight pink T-shirt, curvy blue jeans, and boots.
Grace felt sure that Lilly would have a fit if she saw how the woman casually reached out and touched Jacob’s arm. Not that Jacob looked too happy about it. Then she saw her husband walk over to them, and Seth was smiling and shaking the girl’s hand.
Grace approached the corral in time to see the other woman link her arm through Seth’s. She felt a peculiar catch in her chest. She went to the fence railing and tried to act casual.
“Hi, Seth, Jacob. I thought your guest might like a glass of tea.”
Three pairs of eyes swung in her direction, and the woman, barely more than a teenager, flashed her a perfect smile. “Oh,
how neat. A real Amish lady. I think your dress is so cool! But don’t you get hot?”
Grace tried to follow the jabbering train of words and murmured softly as Seth sought to disentangle himself from the girl’s arm.
“Uh, this is—my wife, Grace. Grace, this is Jennifer Mason. She’s looking to buy a little mare to ride.”
“Yeah,” the girl gushed. “My daddy’s nineteenth birthday present, you know? I wanted a car, but I like to ride. I can’t believe you two are together. I mean, your skin is beautiful, Grace, but you look older than Seth. Are there Amish women who like younger men? There’s a lot of women like that around where I live and—”
“How about that tea, Grace?” Seth interrupted.
Grace clenched the fence rail with white-tipped fingers and blinked in the bold sunlight. “Of course. I suppose I’m still spry enough to get it.” The
Englisch
girl’s words roiled in her head. No doubt she was used to saying what she thought—she was young and beautiful and naïve and probably meant no harm in her casual talk. But to be noticed as being older—what must other
Amisch
think?
“Please, come inside when you’ve finished. I’ll have the tea ready.”
V
iolet heard Grace come in, slamming the screen door behind her. She went and peered through the screen. “Who’s that wild-looking girl out there?”
“A
customer
.”
Violet didn’t miss the irony in her sister’s tone. “You mean a
young
customer, right? Young, rich, and beautiful. I’d be jealous.”
Grace frowned at her. “Why would you be jealous? You’re stunning and she’s a—well . . .”
Violet laughed and came to link an arm around her sister’s slim waist. “If I’m stunning, then I wonder what to call you, since I’m only a shadow of your beauty.”
“
Ach
, Violet, go on with you. I’ve got to fetch that—girl—some tea.”
Violet gave her an impish look. “I could serve it for you, but I bet tea stains bleach-blond hair.”
Grace laughed and Violet darted happily away, glad she’d been able to cheer her sister somewhat.
I
warned you,” Jacob said as he spread wax on a saddle.
It was almost lunchtime. The sale had gone well, with Jennifer Mason paying top dollar for a spirited mare. But tea with Grace had not been the brightest spot in the day.
“I didn’t do anything,” Seth protested, filling feeders with grain. But he knew what was coming because he’d felt it in his heart.
“That girl was all over you, and you let her hurt Grace.”
“Well, what exactly was I supposed to say, Jacob? The girl talked a mile a minute and Grace would have been embarrassed if I’d protested. By the way, do you think there is that much difference in our appearances?”
Jacob rolled his eyes. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s what worries me. Why don’t you focus on going in and making your wife feel like age doesn’t matter?”
“
Ach
, all right,” he said.
“Hey, you three are coming for dinner tomorrow night. Bring Violet too, if she wants.”
“Really? You got Grace to accept? How’d you do that?” Seth asked.
Jacob gave him a smug smile. “I used my charm.”
G
race looked down to find that the carrot she had been scraping for the fresh vegetable plate was whittled down to nearly nothing. With a sigh of disgust, she dropped it into the compost bin and picked up another.
If only she could forget the morning. When she gazed out the kitchen window, all she saw was Abel playing happily with Pretty, but she couldn’t rid herself of the image of Jennifer Mason—the blond hair, tight jeans, and flirty manner. Coy, confident, and calculatingly candid.
She kept telling herself that a few years’ difference really did not matter, but she was resolved to find out Seth’s exact age once and for all.
She looked up in surprise as he came through the back door. He paused to stare at her, then moved past her to wash his hands at the sink. She went to the screen door to call Abel.
“Come on in,
sohn
. Lunchtime,” she said. “I made apple strudel.”
“Oh boy, my favorite!” Abel cried.
“Mine too,” Seth said.
Grace got a sudden impulse and smiled. “All right then, let’s have apple strudel first, before soup and vegetables.”
“What?” Seth and Abel asked in unison.
“You heard me.”
Man and boy raced to the table. Grace brought over three plates and then the pan of crusty apple goodness. Just as she finished serving everyone, there was a knock at the door. Grace rose to answer it, hoping that another female horse buyer wasn’t at the door. But it was her mother-and father-in-law.
“You never have to knock. You are always welcome here.” She held the door wide. “Please come in. We’re having dessert—before lunch.”
Seth got up to hug his parents while Abel continued to eat the apple strudel. Mary and Samuel joined them at the table, and Grace brought extra plates. As she watched the older couple, she wondered what it would be like to be visiting in a home where you had raised your children and lived for so long.
Still, she was grateful for the space and the privacy—both for herself and for Abel. The truth was that the boy could be odd, and even as loving as her new in-laws were, she was concerned about revealing the true nature of her son to people. Grace was never ashamed of him, but she did sometimes feel embarrassed.
She looked down the table at him now. He still had blue paint streaks on his cheeks and was happily stuffing himself with strudel.
“This is delicious,” Mary said.
“Danki.”
Samuel cleared his throat, breaking into her thoughts. “There’s a new mare I’d like you to look at with me in town, Seth.”
“Sure thing.” He turned toward Grace. “Can the soup wait for supper?”
She nodded. “It just gets better with simmering.”
“Great. We’ll bring Abel along too.”
Abel looked up from his plate and grinned at the prospect. Grace tried to push down the alarm that rose up inside her. She had never let Abel go very far from her, but Seth was her husband and Abel’s new father.
“Please be careful,” she said to Seth.
“Of course.” He bent to kiss her forehead and used the distraction to swipe the last bite of strudel from her plate. She hugged her son briefly, then watched him slip his hand into Seth’s and head out the door.
Grace turned to Mary in the sudden hollowness of the kitchen. “I don’t feel right here sometimes,” she said. “This is your place, your home. You should be here.”
“No,” Mary said. “I was glad to move to the
daudi haus
, and I am looking forward to the time when we will have other grand–children—in addition to Abel. We love him like our own, you know.”
“I know. Thank you.”
As they talked, Grace felt her spirit relax within her. The closest she’d ever come to an adult mother-daughter relationship was with Alice Miller. She had been barely out of childhood when she had married Silas, and he had kept her isolated from seeing her family. She had missed all the joy of becoming friends with her mother. And now
Mamm
was gone, and that void could never be filled.
“I wonder about other children too,” she confessed.
Mary smiled. “What do you imagine a child of yours and Seth’s would be like?”
Grace swallowed. “
Ach
, blue eyes and that laughing smile, tiny white teeth and golden hair.”
“Not black hair and those unusual eyes of yours?” Mary said.
In truth, it never occurred to Grace to think of her own violet eyes or dark hair. She rarely thought of herself at all. And she certainly never shared such personal feelings with anyone else.
Perhaps life was changing for her, after all.
S
eth let his
daed
drive as they made their way into town. It was only three miles to Lockport, and Seth enjoyed spending time with his father.
“Well,
sohn
, how is married life?”
Seth glanced behind him in the buggy. Abel had fallen asleep against Pretty. The rhythm of the drive always soothed the child somehow.
Seth sighed. “Hard,” he admitted quietly. “Grace is such a complex person—there are so many layers to her that I can’t seem to fathom. It’s like throwing a rock into a deep pond and knowing you’re never really going to see it touch bottom. I don’t know what to do with her sometimes.”
His father laughed. “Welcome to the world of women. Even with your
mamm
, it took me two years of marriage to figure out some things—that she didn’t like turnips or the way I hung shirts on the line upside down.”
“You hung shirts?” Seth tried to remember if he’d ever seen his father doing laundry. He was used to
Daed
dealing with the horses. It was hard to imagine him doing domestic chores.