The Atonement (28 page)

E
ARLY
W
EDNESDAY
MORNING
,
Lucy went to the outer room between the kitchen and the back porch and slipped on her black coat, thinking she ought to help Martie more frequently this week.
She'll be relieved to see me.

Stepping outside, Lucy watched a flock of geese fly like miniature arrows over the barnyard in a perfect V formation, their wings beating rhythmically.

Lettie scurried out of the house and onto the porch steps just behind her. “
Ach,
so glad I caught ya, Lucy. Would ya mind if I walk over to Martie's with you? Maybe I'll stay an' help with Jesse and Josh while you clean or cook or whatever.”

“I'd like your company, sure.” Lucy was curious; Lettie had never sought her out like this before. “Is Faye comin', too?”

“She wants to go with Mamm over to Glicks' while they're gone to look over some items set aside for the big sale next month. I guess there will be a few others there, too. The Glicks want to move things quickly, in preparation for the bigger move early next spring—might even be March, I heard.”

Ah, so she's dying
to talk more about Tobe,
thought Lucy, not sure she was up for it.

“By the way, Mammi Flaud said something 'bout all of us helping her with some piecework for one of her quilts sometime after communion Sunday,” Lettie said with a glance at the
Dawdi Haus
.

At the mention of communion, Lucy felt tense.

“Fasting day is this Friday, don't forget.” Lettie looked at Lucy. “And I hope ya feel well enough to attend on Sunday.”

So, Lettie
had
noticed. Most likely everyone else had, too. “Bein' healthy's a
gut
thing, 'specially for Holy Communion.” Lucy meant it in more than one way, but let it be.
Nourishing a healthy body . . . and soul.

They headed up to Witmer Road at a brisk pace, staying on the shoulder, off the pavement. The morning haze had begun to lift as the sun shone across the fields.

“Listen, Lettie,” said Lucy, “I'm real sorry for not being very sisterly. I just always assumed Faye was the sister you most cared 'bout.”

Lettie dipped her head. “It's obvious why you might think that.”

“Ain't a
gut
excuse, though.”

They walked in unison, their shoes scuffing against the pebbles along the roadside. Several carriages passed by, and she and Lettie waved at Aunt Edna Lapp in the first one, followed later by the Millers. Lucy thought of Dat's sharing about Minnie and was glad to be on much better footing with him now.

“If ya wanna know the whole truth of what happened between Matthew Mast and me,” Lettie said as they took the bend in the road, “I was flippant, even suggested he might find someone in Colorado who wasn't nearly as much fun as me.”

“You said that?” Lucy was surprised. “Wait . . . the Masts are leavin', too?”

“Didn't ya know?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Well, the way things are goin' with Mark and Faye, I wouldn't be surprised if Faye ends up out there, too,” Lettie revealed. “They'll be married eventually.”

Lucy gasped. “You two are like sugar peas in a pod, though! Faye'd actually leave ya behind?”

“That's another reason why I've struggled lately.”

“Oh, Lettie.” Lucy stopped walking and reached for her hand. “I had no idea.”

When Lettie settled a bit, she dried her eyes. “I can't imagine Faye goin' away. It'll feel like my right arm is missin'.”

Lucy agreed. “And I can't figure out why this notion of joinin' another settlement so far away is catchin' on with our church members.” She thought of Martie's concerns again.

“Ya surely know that Tobe's decided to go with his family, too. They've got a good offer from Bishop Smucker—I s'pose their place is as good as sold.”

“
Jah,
Tobe told me this himself.”

Talking about this with Lettie brought it all back—Tobe's courtship proposal, the pleasant night she'd walked with him nearly to the Lincoln Highway, and Tobe's friendship all these years.

“You're upset, ain't ya?” Lettie blew her nose.

“Just wonderin' how much this will affect our community.”

Lettie nodded. “Faye argues that it's not anything that comes as a surprise, though, 'cause Plain families have been doin' this sort of thing for years.”

“Do Dat and Mamm know Faye might be followin' the Masts out there?”

“Not yet.”

Lucy breathed a grateful sigh as Ray and Martie's house came into view. She didn't feel like mentioning that their brother James was also headed that direction, nor Martie's worry that Ray was considering this, as well.

Lettie can hear this directly
from Martie,
Lucy thought sadly.
If it comes to that.

Thursday morning, the day of Dorothea's funeral, Lucy got up in time to bathe and dress, then left with one of their paid drivers in the passenger van. Several other Amish folk from her district were headed for the same church gathering, including Rhoda Blank and her husband from Bird-in-Hand.

When she entered the church, Lucy noticed Dale standing off to the side, wearing a black suit, white shirt, and subdued black-and-gray-striped tie. When he spotted her, Dale walked her way, his smile bright. “Would you like to sit together?” he asked, mentioning that his mother was under the weather and unable to make it.

Lucy realized the Amish folk from the van had already gotten in line to sign the guest book, so she and Dale did, too. Secretly, she was glad Dale had singled her out.

“Is your father coming?” Dale asked, handing her an order of service with a picture of a younger Dorothea on the cover.

“His work has him tied up.” She was surprised Dale would even expect him to attend.

Following his lead into the church sanctuary, Lucy noticed many sprays of flowers along the front, as well as the pure white casket adorned with a mass of peach-colored roses on top. Everything about this funeral was completely foreign, but she smiled, remembering Dorothea's penchant for peaches.

The first two hymns were unfamiliar to Lucy, but she followed along in the songbook, and after hearing the first verse and chorus, tried to sing along, though softly. Dale's deep voice was reassuring.

Before the sermon, four of Clinton and Dorothea's grown children and two of their grandchildren stood before the packed
church and spoke of their mother and grandmother's virtues, as well as sharing favorite memories. Dorothea's eldest daughter, Elaina, talked about the simple joy of just being with her, sitting and talking over warm tea. “That alone was my greatest delight.”

When Clinton slowly rose to his feet, Lucy was surprised he had the strength to get up and speak. The place was hushed as he walked with his cane and some assistance from one of his grandsons to a podium set up near the closed casket. The dear man looked ever so feeble and pale.

“It may have seemed to anyone who knew me back then that I had somehow rescued Dorothea,” he began. “Nevertheless, while I was attempting to live a pleasing life before the Lord, I was also terribly lonely, missing the young woman who had come in and out of my life . . . the girl who one day would become my wife.”

He removed his white handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “It was around that time that I purchased an embroidered bookmark to give to Dottie and tucked it into the New Testament.

“That day, I learned something about Dorothea's name. It means God's gift.” A sigh rippled through the crowd as he looked fondly at the casket, then moved to take a single peach-colored rose from the massive bouquet. “And quite truly, in every way, Dottie was God's gift to me.”

Lucy pressed her hand over her mouth, fighting tears, and for just an instant, Dale reached over and covered her free hand with his. Startled, she was glad her father had not come today.

C
HRISTIAN
WAS
GRATEFUL
when Sarah brought some hot coffee out to the barn midafternoon, taking a moment to mention the community was all abuzz about the homeless young woman Lucy and her
Englischer
friend had helped. “Have ya heard they're stayin' over at Bud Friesen's?”

“
Jah.
”
Christian nodded. “Lucy told me. James and Solomon and their wives donated some canned goods when they heard,” Christian said, stopping to wipe his brow with his blue paisley handkerchief.

Sarah smiled and said that was awfully nice. “Lucy's generosity must be catching.”

“I can't agree more, though I'm hopin' this isn't just an excuse to spend time with Dale,” he said, which made Sarah shake her head. Then she scurried back toward the house.
No doubt she's worried, too, after reading
The Budget.

Christian hadn't been able to locate their copy of the periodical since he and Sarah had read it last Friday. It seemed odd for it to walk off like that, and he wondered if Lucy had even seen it yet, since she hadn't said a word about it.

Maybe she's been too busy.

From the high vantage point of her room, Lucy watched her father ride out of the lane. She was under the weather, and after this morning's funeral, she didn't have the strength to be around other grieving people . . . nor Dale Wyeth.
Have I spent too much time with him lately?

On the heels of the passings of Wendell and Dorothea, hearing that Faye was most likely leaving for Colorado, too, and possibly Martie and Ray, was too much for Lucy to contemplate.

And Tobe.

Moving to her desk, Lucy reached for the curriculum and read through the information for the class she was missing—“Where is God in Our Grief?” Her gaze fell on the pretty quilted coverlet Martie had made for Lucy's baby after Lucy left for Ohio. It was lying on the armrest of the settee.

Have I held God at a distance? Is that why He feels so far
away?

She picked up the small quilt and smoothed it, then folded it and placed it in her hope chest before she slipped over to the sunroom area. There, she sat, bowing her head, the space dimly lit by a small lantern.
I didn't even have the courtesy to tell Dat I wasn't going tonight.

Tomorrow, they would fast during the breakfast hour. Most families skipped just that meal prior to communion Sunday. “I have lots to pray about,” she murmured, recalling Clinton's talking about how Dorothea had long struggled: her will versus God's.

Closing her eyes, Lucy prayed silently, getting a head start on tomorrow.

After the support group adjourned, Dale sought out Christian to ask how Lucy was faring. Christian said he had been glad she
could attend Dorothea's funeral today, close as Lucy had been to the woman.

“I had expected she might be here tonight,” Dale commented, looking around. “Is she okay?”

Christian didn't know for sure and didn't care to let on. “It's possible she'll return next week.”

“Please let her know I asked about her,” Dale said politely.

And while Christian tried to read Dale's demeanor, he couldn't decipher whether or not the man had romantic intentions. He remembered Deacon Ed's visit earlier this week,
The Budget
in hand. No, as much as Christian liked Dale, he would
not
relay his message to Lucy . . . adding coal to an already simmering fire.

Jesse and Josh were sleeping soundly upstairs when Ray came in from outdoors. He pulled his chair out and sat down at the head of the table, asking for some coffee.

“So late?” Martie asked.

Ray nodded and pulled on his beard. He seemed fidgety, which wasn't like him. “
Kumme,
sit with me,
mei Lieb.
”

With the pregnancy, Martie didn't dare drink coffee at all, particularly at this hour, so she got herself some cold water from the faucet and brought her tumbler over and sat down, waiting for the water to boil.

“As I told you Monday, I've been mullin' things over with James, taking time to decide whether a move to Colorado might be a
gut
thing for our family, too.”

Martie set her water down, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I've come to the conclusion that movin' west to join with the other families could be a wise thing. But we won't leave when all the others do . . . not with the twins coming. It makes better
sense for us to stay put for the immediate future,” he said, reaching for her hand and holding it on the table.

So he does want to go, but not right away,
she thought, wanting to be brave. Even so, it was hard.

“I should have told ya before now what I was thinking . . . didn't wanna put added stress on you. Your happiness and the health of the babies is uppermost,” Ray said.

“I'd heard some things, and I must admit I was frettin' more than I should have.” She smiled a little. “But I do trust ya, Ray. You know what's best for us.”

He leaned near, searching her eyes. “This is the chance of a lifetime. We can purchase many more acres there, and for so much less than here. We'll have more land to pass on to our children someday.”

“What 'bout our families?” she had to ask. “We'll be leavin' them behind. After all, your parents are getting up in years, ya know.”

“Our relatives can visit. The trains and vans go both ways.” He kissed her hand.

She nodded, and when the water came to a boil, she asked if decaf was all right, hoping that way he could sleep more soundly. “Have ya told your father any of this yet?” she asked as she stirred in the instant coffee.

He nodded. “Daed's real curious what we'll discover out there—sounds like he and Mamm might even want to join us, once we're settled.”

“Now, that'd be all right with me.”
More hands to help with four little ones!

“But no sense worryin'
your
parents just yet,” Ray said, blowing on his coffee. “Seems they've got enough to handle with Lucy.”

“What now?” she asked.

He hesitated, as if thinking how to say it. “Well, seems the Blanks saw Lucy with an
Englischer
at a coffee shop on Sunday
afternoon. Seemed to be awful cozy . . . like they were on a date. She even left there in his pickup truck.”

“
Nee
, I can't believe this!” And lest she spoil their time together, Martie rose right quick and went to the cookie jar.

After she'd had a nibble or two, she returned to the table and offered some to Ray. They discussed his fasting for breakfast tomorrow, in keeping with their tradition, though due to her pregnancy, she wouldn't be joining in.

“Better safe than sorry,” Ray agreed.

Later, after they'd outened the lights, Martie wondered how many others had seen Lucy with Dale Wyeth over the past couple of weeks.
Cozying up, for goodness' sake!

If it was true that Lucy was entertaining romantic notions toward yet another outsider, Martie worried her sister would not partake in the fasting and prayer tomorrow—let alone communion.