The Search (27 page)

Jonah hadn’t seen Lainey yet. Nor had Bess. When he returned to Rose Hill Farm after talking to Caleb, Bess was already there. Apparently, it was Lainey’s day off from the bakery and Bess couldn’t find her anywhere.

By late afternoon, Jonah drove the buggy down to Lainey’s cottage to see if she had returned yet. There was no answer at the door. It amazed him to see that cottage transformed. It had been well worthwhile to fix it up. It was starting to look the way it was probably intended to look, years ago, when it was first built by the original owners. It was a lovely little house, with good bones and a solid foundation. He could still smell the fresh paint. New windowpanes replaced the broken ones.

He sat on the porch steps to wait for her. He had been worried to hear that she was going to live in this house—the one where her mother had died in childbirth. He put a hand to his forehead. She died delivering his Bess! Right here. Another discovery that hadn’t occurred to him. How could Lainey live in a house that sheltered so many unhappy memories? He couldn’t have done it.

His back was stiff from sitting for so long, so he got up to stretch. He hoped she would return soon. Soon it would be more dark than day. He walked down the pathway and around to the back of the house. He peered inside the window and recognized some furniture and an old rug from Rose Hill Farm’s attic. He should have known his mother had a hand in this. He walked all around the perimeter of the house, stopping by a small, newly planted rose garden. He smiled. More evidence of Bertha Riehl. He walked around to the front and then he saw Lainey. She stood by the road, watching him, wearing a Plain dress—lavender that brought out her eyes. Her hands were clasped before her to keep them steady.

“Lainey,” Jonah said softly as he approached her.

“You came back,” Lainey said. “There’s so much I need to explain—”

“Would you take me to see my child’s grave?”

She nodded. “We can go right now.”

They didn’t speak in the buggy as Jonah drove them to the town cemetery. Lainey led him straight to the back where her mother was buried. A small grave marker was next to it. He could see that the two graves had been recently weeded. They looked cared for. By Lainey, no doubt.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” she said quietly, and went to wait in the buggy.

Jonah knelt in front of his daughter’s grave. And for the second time that day, he wept.

As Jonah drove away from her cottage, Lainey stood by the road and watched until his buggy had dipped over the rise and was out of sight. They had stayed at the cemetery and talked for hours. It was as if they were filling each other in on the last fifteen years of their lives. They talked until the shadows got longer and still had more to say to each other. It wasn’t until long after the dusk turned to darkness and the stars came out in the clear sky that Jonah said he should be getting back to Rose Hill Farm. But he didn’t look at all as if he wanted to leave.

10

______

The next morning was a church Sunday. Bess dressed quickly and offered to go down the road to pick up Lainey and come back for her father and grandmother, but Jonah said he wouldn’t mind going. He said old Frieda needed a little warming up, but Bess wasn’t so sure. Her dad came back late last night, whistling. Even Mammi noticed how happy he seemed. You had to know Mammi pretty well to decipher a difference in expression, but Bess thought she hadn’t stopped looking pleased ever since she and Jonah had arrived.

Bess wished her father would hurry old Frieda along. She hadn’t seen Billy at Rose Hill Farm yesterday. She knew he would be at church this morning, and so she took extra care with her hair. She even pulled a few strands loose behind her cap and tried to curl them into tight ringlets. She didn’t think anyone would see since they sat in the back bench, but she hoped maybe Billy might notice. Betsy Mast often had corkscrew curls slipping under her cap and down her neck. But then, Betsy had thick, curly hair, and Bess’s hair was thin and straight.

She spotted Billy by the barn the minute they arrived at the Smuckers’. He was surrounded by a group of friends; they were laughing over some joke. Mammi took her time getting out of the buggy from the backseat, which gave Bess a chance to furtively glance at the boys while pretending to help her down. She saw Andy Yoder spot her with a delighted look on his face. Billy hadn’t noticed her yet. He had turned around to talk to someone else. As soon as Bess climbed out of the buggy, Andy was at her elbow.

“Bess! You’re back! Hallelujah! You look . . . wonderful.” Andy’s admiration was unqualified. “I was just this minute trying to talk Billy into making a trip to Ohio to see you! But he made it sound like we were going to the far side of the moon.”

Bess stifled a smile. Andy was the kind of person that sometimes told you unexpected things.

“Don’t listen to a word this fellow tells you,” Billy said, approaching them from behind.

Bess whirled around to face Billy. “Which words?” Her heart was pounding like an Indian war drum. She was sure Billy could hear it.

Billy looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. For a few seconds, he was literally unable to find words. “The second part,” he said simply.

Then it was as if the mist had cleared and they went back to their old ways.

“Missed picking rose petals, did you?” he asked.

She grinned and held out her palms. “Especially the thorns. When the last cut healed, I told Dad we needed to return. My hands looked too good.”

Billy and Andy peered at her hands as if they were made of fine china.

Jonah handed the reins of the horse to one of the Smucker sons and interrupted them. “Well, boys—”

Bess cringed at the undue emphasis her father placed on the word “boys.” Couldn’t he see that Billy was a man?

“—it’s time we went in to the service.” Jonah put a hand protectively on Bess’s shoulder to steer her to the house for meeting.

Around three o’clock, they left the Smuckers’ to return to Rose Hill Farm. Bess invited Lainey to join them for supper, and Jonah couldn’t hold back a smile. As he turned the buggy into the drive, he felt a jolt. Bess let out a gasp.

There, on the front porch, patiently waiting, was planted Sallie Stutzman, her twin sons, and Mose Weaver.

Jonah swallowed hard. In his haste, he had completely forgotten to tell Sallie and Mose that he and Bess were leaving.

Over breakfast on Monday, Bess asked her grandmother if she would take her to see Simon in Lebanon as soon as it was convenient. Mammi said it was convenient right now and grabbed her bonnet to head out the door. Sallie and her boys and Mose were staying at Rose Hill Farm, and Sallie’s “cheerfulness,” Mammi said, was making her dizzy.

They didn’t talk much on the bus ride. Something was building inside of Bess, something she had discovered last night as she watched everyone at dinner. She was so sure she was right that she felt as if she might explode. Finally, she blurted out, “Oh Mammi! Whatever are we going to do?!”

Mammi had been looking out the window. She turned to Bess as if she had forgotten she was there. “About what?”

About
what
? Wasn’t it obvious? “Dad loves Lainey and Sallie loves Dad and Mose loves Sallie and Lainey loves Dad! If we don’t do something quick, the wedding is going to happen because Dad is too honorable to tell Sallie no. That’s what!” Sallie hadn’t stopped talking about the wedding last night. That dinner was one of the most painful moments of Bess’s life. Her father looked stricken, Mose kept looking at Sallie with this terrible longing—Bess knew Mose well enough to know that his mild look held
terrible
longing—and Lainey! Poor Lainey! She hardly said a word. When Jonah offered to drive her home, she refused him, flat out.

Mammi turned back to the window and exhaled. “We let nature take its course.
That’s
what.” She patted Bess’s leg. “That’s what we do. Never forget that.”

Bess turned that thought over and over in her mind, not at all convinced it was the best plan. Didn’t Mammi care? Didn’t she want her dad to be happy?

Just before they reached Lebanon, Mammi asked, “Does that little round gal ever stop talking?”

“No,” Bess said glumly. “She never does.”

“Them two boys ever stop wiggling?”

Bess shook her head. “Not even in church.”

“Does that tall fellow ever say a word?”

Bess scratched her prayer cap. “None that I recall.”

“Hoo-boy,” Mammi said. “Nature has her work cut out for her.”

After they arrived at the hospital, Mammi went in search of a bathroom and Bess knew
that
could be a long wait, so she decided to go ahead to Simon’s ward. She tiptoed up to his bed. She could see he had grown much weaker than the other time she had visited. Sweat gleamed on his face, like he was feverish.

“If you’re another vampire, go away,” Simon muttered without opening an eye. “I don’t have any more blood to give.”

“But I’m not . . . I’m not a vampire,” Bess said. “It’s me. It’s Bess. Bertha’s granddaughter. Jonah’s daughter.”

“Well, well. It’s the holy howler.” He groaned. “If Bertha sent you here to get me to confess my sins before I kick the bucket . . . tell her no thanks.”

“She didn’t,” Bess said quietly.

Simon didn’t respond.

“Would it be such a bad thing, though, to confess your sins?”

Now he looked at her. “It wouldn’t be if I didn’t enjoy sinning so much.”

Bess had never heard of anyone who enjoyed sinning. She gave him a look of great sadness. “I’ll pray for you, for your soul.”

“Have at it,” Simon said mockingly. “I’m afraid all those childhood lessons in holiness slid off me like hot butter off the griddle.” He pointed to the door. “Now go look for where the carpenter made a hole.”

She supposed that was his rather impolite way of telling her he wanted her to leave him alone. For a brief moment, she thought about not going through with the bone marrow operation. Simon would never appreciate the gift.

And yet, she wasn’t doing it for him. She was doing it for God. And for Mammi. She bit her lip. “I came here today to tell you some good news. It turns out we’re a match, you and I. I can give you my bone marrow.”