River of Mercy (48 page)

“What kind of twisted thinking is that?” said Gideon.

Gant shrugged. “It seems twisted to us, but it sounds as if most times when Samuel didn't get his way or lost his temper about something, he took it out on one of his boys. The fact that Rachel continually refused to marry him apparently made him a little crazy. The latest confrontation with her must have really set him off. Lately he'd been going after the youngest lad with a vengeance.”

“Well, I suppose it remains to be seen whether he meant any real harm to Phoebe,” Gideon said, “but I for one don't believe this last stunt of his was any kind of an accident. He hasn't admitted it—Carl said he won't talk about it yet—but that iron pipe he was carrying around could have been deadly.”

Gant looked at Rachel, concerned about the effect Gideon's remarks might have on her, but she seemed quietly composed. She even added a comment of her own. “He might have meant to use it only to break in, Gideon,” she said softly.

“And then what?” he shot back. “Come on, Rachel, you know he had it in for you because of his
dat.
He had more in mind than breaking into your house this time.”

“Even so, I can't help but feel sorry for those boys,” Rachel said, her voice still low.

Gant marveled at the fact that she didn't even seem angry.

“Aaron must have had a miserable life,” she continued. “Apparently, all of them have grown up troubled and mistreated.”

“Don't feel too sorry for Aaron,” Gideon put in. “He intended to hurt you that night, Rachel. He was after revenge. Aaron thinks you ruined Samuel's life, and therefore you wrecked
his
as well. He's as off in the head as his
dat.”

“Has anyone heard yet where Samuel went?” Gant asked.

“He's back at the farm for now,” Doc said. As if to reassure Rachel, he quickly added, “But he's not staying. He came back to put it up for sale and collect the household goods and furniture. If you can believe this, he's actually calling himself a bishop again, and he's assembled a few followers to accompany him to Indiana. They'll be starting a new district there, and Samuel will be their leader. At least that's what Malachi told me. It seems that the Riverhaven Amish are far too lenient for Samuel's liking. He's going to preside over a new community that more specifically follows the tenets of the ‘true' Amish faith.”

“What about the boys?” Rachel said, her forehead lined with concern. “Surely they aren't going with him. They've already suffered so much.”

“No,” Doc said. “They're going to stay here, with their aunt. At least for now. Aaron, of course, will have to serve time once he's sentenced.”

“Aaron.” Rachel shook her head, her expression sad. “He's turned out to be just like Samuel, if not worse.”

“Rachel, Aaron is sick,” Doc pointed out. “He's sick in his mind. He needs help—badly. It could be that time away from his father will do him good, even though he'll spend it in jail.”

“Don't count on that,” Gant said. “All too often a fellow comes out of jail worse than he was when he went in.”

At that point, Doc cleared his throat, saying, “I think we've had enough depressing talk for now. There is, however, another piece of news that you probably haven't heard yet,” he said, turning to Gant and directing his words to him. “I know you like Malachi Esch and have a great deal of respect for him, as do we. I thought you'd like to know that he's to be our new bishop. The lot fell on Malachi at the service today. We need to be praying for him.”

Susan smiled and said, “Malachi will be a fine bishop. He's a
gut
man. A kind man. Always has been.”

Doc held Gant's gaze for a long moment but said nothing more.

Gant was surprised and pleased by the news. And although any real hope for him and Rachel would be premature at this point, he couldn't help but feel hopeful.

After Rachel helped to clear the table, she and Gant were the only ones left in the dining room. She started toward the kitchen again, but before she could get away, Gant caught her arm, saying, “Would you give me a minute, Rachel? I need to talk to you.”

She looked around, as if to see if anyone was watching. “I don't know…I need to help in the kitchen—”

“Fannie's helping Susan. It won't take long. Please.”

She studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Dr. David and Gideon are in the living room playing checkers. We can talk here.”

“So…Malachi will be the new bishop,” he began.

She nodded, not looking at him.

“Then I mean to speak with him. Soon.”

She remained still as a stone.

“I mean to ask his permission to convert. Do you think I have a chance?”

Now she looked at him. “I…I don't know.”

“Do you care?”

“Do I…well, if that's what you want, Jeremiah, of course I care.”

“You know very well what I mean, Rachel. If Malachi grants his permission for me to become Amish…when the time comes, will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened. “You shouldn't ask me that yet.”

“Why not? Surely by now you know if you want to marry me.”

“It's much too soon for us to talk about marriage.”

“I need your answer, Rachel.”

He stopped. “A long time ago, I asked you if you'd marry me if I were Amish. At that time you told me you would. Did you mean it then?”

She brought her hand to her mouth in a self-conscious gesture, watching him. “Yes. I meant it.”

“And now?” Gant pressed, finding it difficult to get his breath. “If I convert, will you marry me?”

“Jeremiah…you mustn't convert only because of me. It wouldn't be right.”

“I won't lie to you, Rachel. You're the most important reason I want to convert. But you're not the only reason.” He stopped and then went on when she started to protest again. “Listen to me, Rachel. I think…I
know
I want your life. The Plain life. I want what you and your family have. I want it for myself. I know I'll have to change in a lot of ways. But I also believe I can. So I'm asking you again, Rachel. Will you marry me?”

She lifted her face to look at him. He felt as if those dark, gentle eyes were searching his very soul. “Yes, Jeremiah,” she said softly. “I will marry you.”

Relief mingled with joy, and he moved to embrace her but then stopped. He lifted a hand slightly and gave a small shake of his head. “I'm going to assume you want everything done properly, in keeping with your Amish ways. Right now I need to kiss you so badly I can scarcely breathe. But I also want everything to be the way you want it. So I'll wait.”

Rachel smiled just a little. Then, closing the distance between them, she went into his arms.

“Just this one time, Jeremiah,” she said, lifting her face for his kiss.
“Then
we'll wait.”

47

Love transforms the heart
That once waited outside, looking in
To one that belongs and abides.

UNKNOWN

W
hat a glorious day it was! Hints of spring were everywhere, with trees in bud and flowers poking their heads through the rich river soil. The light breeze carried a fresh, sun-warmed fragrance, so welcome after the winter months.

Rachel stood on the front porch, watching. Watching for any sign of Jeremiah.

He was speaking with Malachi today, meeting with him to request permission to convert to the Amish faith.

The weeks had dragged by ever so slowly. So often it had seemed as though this day would never come. According to Gideon, Jeremiah, too, had been as restless as a caged bobcat throughout the waiting time.

Her brother often spoke of bobcats, particularly “Captain Gant's bobcat,” now that he had seen the creature for himself. Rachel hadn't forgotten Jake either. Jeremiah still puzzled over how and why the animal had turned up all the way out here that terrible night.

She had thought the creature magnificent. A lot like Jeremiah himself. Confident. No doubt headstrong. And handsome. Oh, he
was
a handsome animal! Probably unpredictable too. There again, like Jeremiah.

She was growing restless now. Anxious. Malachi was a kind man, a reasonable and fair man. But now he was also the bishop. He had to take many things into consideration, matters that dealt with spiritual guidance and tradition. Matters to be followed in accordance with the
Ordnung.
There was always a chance he would refuse Jeremiah's request, forcing him to remain an outsider.

She would go in and make some coffee. Jeremiah might be hungry when he finally arrived. Besides, she needed something to do…she needed to keep busy. She'd make coffee and cut the fresh gingerbread she'd baked only that morning.

Then she saw him. Coming up the road, seated tall on Flann, his big red horse. She stood, fixed in place, holding her breath as she watched him dismount.

He tied up the horse, reached for his cane, and came hurrying toward the house, taking the biggest, broadest steps of which she knew him capable, given his bad leg.

His expression was solemn…too solemn…until he was halfway up the yard. Then suddenly he stopped, cracked an enormous smile, and tossed his cap in the air.

“So, then, Rachel Brenneman,” he called out in an exaggerated Irish accent, “do you happen to know of a good Amish language teacher in these parts? Oh and by the way, will you marry me, m'lovely?”

Rachel stared at him, too stunned for a moment to move.

When she delayed, he planted both hands on his hips, tilted his head to the side, and said, “Well…will you ever answer me, woman?”

Rachel finally found her breath and willed her legs to move, practically leaping off the porch as she ran to meet him, skirts flying, tears flowing even as she burst into laughter.

“Yes…yes…
yes
!” she cried, falling into his waiting arms.

E
PILOGUE