The Guardian (27 page)

N
ot even a half hour later, Turkey Dan Zook arrived in the spring wagon filled with his lively boys. Two large watermelons teetered in the back between Daniel and Will, the oldest of the five.

Benny, Tobias, and then Leda ran first to greet them, followed soon by little Sarah. Maryanna’s children were clearly surprised—she’d kept mum, not wanting to point up the visit as anything but two families getting together for some good fellowship. But Daed and Mamm were plainly aware of Dan Zook’s interest in Maryanna, and Daed mentioned to Mamm in Maryanna’s hearing that he should let Dan sit next to “you know who.”

Turkey Dan and his sons unloaded the watermelons, along with a bundle of fishing poles and bait, too, enough for Benny and Tobias.

How nice,
thought Maryanna, knowing her own boys’ enthusiasm for fishing in the big pond out back. Maryanna smiled and wondered what Jodi thought of this display of activity for Dan’s sons’ sake.
Surely, she’s put it together… .

Outgoing as usual, Turkey Dan smiled broadly and initiated
introductions all around when Jodi walked over to meet them, accompanied by Maryanna. “This is your new schoolteacher for a few weeks—Jodi Winfield,” he told his boys, offering a firm handshake. And each of the boys shook her hand in turn, as well.

Dan and his eldest, Daniel, proceeded to carry the watermelons around to the back of the house as Maryanna directed. Mamm, Daed, and all the children moved quickly up the driveway to the back porch, where Dan helped Maryanna cut the watermelons into manageable slices on the steps.

In no time, everyone was leaning over and slurping as they enjoyed the cold, sweet treat. In between bites, Maryanna’s father brought up Dan’s small turkey-growing operation. He and Dan filled up the silences with a discussion about the high cost of organic feed and the public demand for free-range poultry.

Jeremiah and Mollie pulled into the driveway then with their youngest girls, Ellie and Darla. Maryanna caught Sarah’s look of pure glee when she spotted her cousins, and she excused herself to Turkey Dan and the rest, wiping her sticky hands on her apron and hurrying out to say hello.

Soon, more watermelon slices were distributed, and a few of the boys wanted seconds. When they were finished eating, Benny and Tobias and the five Zook boys took their fishing poles and headed to the fish-stocked pond behind the barn.

The girls washed up at the well pump and scampered to the sidewalk to play jacks, which left Maryanna and Jodi alone with the other adults, including Turkey Dan.

Maryanna was glad to be ensconced in the midst of her family and friend, thinking it far less awkward than sitting and talking alone with a potential suitor. Maryanna was fairly sure Dan Zook had dropped his sons off here last weekend to see
how they got along with her four. Understandable, especially if he had courting in mind.

Such an undertaking to mother all of those boys,
thought Maryanna as she cleared away the watermelon rinds.

She was amazed when Dan began helping with the cleanup and even more surprised when he followed her into the kitchen and made short work of the mess.

He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “I’d like to take ya out for a nice supper at a restaurant sometime soon, Maryanna. Would you enjoy that?”

She didn’t know what to say. He was very nice and polite, but being around him made her miss Benuel all the more.

“Denki, but I’d like to think about it, if you don’t mind,” she said at last, not wanting to sound as though she was brushing him off.

“Of course, take your time,” Dan said, his brown eyes hopeful. “I understand … I truly do.”

Maryanna gave him an appreciative smile, dried her hands on the kitchen towel, and went back out to the porch, lest her relatives wonder.

Jodi came in from feeding the ponies with Maryanna and her children, ready to have a quick breakfast of cold cereal, toast, and bananas. Maryanna’s eyes flickered in the direction of Mattie Beiler’s farmhouse, where church was to be held this rainy Sunday morning.

The weather had changed in the night, and Jodi had even gotten up to close her window around two o’clock, marveling at the sounds pouring into her room. “You’re welcome to join us for Preachin’ service,” Maryanna invited as she carried a
pitcher of raw cow’s milk to the table. “We could’ve walked through the pasture to get there, but not in this downpour.”

Jodi thanked her but didn’t commit. In fact, she was hesitant to attend, since she didn’t understand the language, for one thing. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about diving back into church, even if it only meant for the weeks she’d agreed to teach at the Amish schoolhouse. “I guess I might pass,” she told Maryanna as she washed her hands and offered to set the table. “If that’s all right.”

“Entirely up to you,” Maryanna said, her voice crimped.

Jodi noticed the children glance at her when it was time to say the Lord’s Prayer, after Maryanna’s signal for the initial silent grace. Little Sarah smiled across from her, then folded her dimpled hands and bowed her head, leaning her forehead against her knuckles. The sight put Jodi to shame, and she stumbled along in German.

As she ate, she thought of driving to her cousin’s place but knew they’d be at church, as well. Maybe she could simply go to the coffee shop where she’d met with Trent before he left for Japan. There, she could get plugged in and catch up with her fiance, since it was already evening there.

She heard the children talking happily about going to “the house of worship” over at the Wise Woman’s former home, and Jodi had second thoughts about not going. Besides, she didn’t wish to discourage the school board fathers by not showing up, even though church attendance hadn’t been discussed as one of the several requirements she must adhere to.

When she thought about it, Jodi realized the twice-a-day family worship had begun to grip her heart. Each time the family bowed their heads and said the Lord’s Prayer, Jodi felt more miserable. The excess of emotion she’d suppressed since Karen’s passing threatened to burst, and she realized her rejection of
prayer had taken a terrible toll. She longed to express her sadness, even anger, to someone who would not condemn her.
Someone besides God.

Pondering this, she wondered if there was a flesh-and-blood person who could understand what she’d been through. Someone in Hickory Hollow, perhaps?

“You know what?” Jodi said suddenly. “I think I
would
like to go to church with you, Maryanna.”

Toby clapped his hands and whispered in little Sarah’s ear as Maryanna’s face broke into a wide smile.

“It’s a long time to sit on the hard benches,” Benny volunteered.

“Well, she’ll sit along the back wall, with the non-baptized members,” Maryanna said, nodding her head repeatedly, as if delighted. “Just take a white hankie along to cover your head, jah?”

“I have one she can wear, Mamma,” Leda offered, all smiles.

Jodi thanked her and dropped a tea bag into her cup of hot water. And observing the excitement her sudden decision had garnered, she was glad she’d changed her mind.

The scent of rain was on the People as they crowded into the open space of several rooms, their wall partitions removed for the occasion, something Maryanna had explained to Jodi on the damp ride over.

Benny hadn’t been wrong about the church bench—it was indeed hard, as was the wall behind her back. And after the first German hymn, which sounded similar to a Gregorian chant and lasted a solid twenty minutes, Jodi understood why Benny’s goal to learn the words to the
“Loblied”
was such a
challenge.
It would be to anyone,
she decided, very aware of the reverent spirit in the large room. Even the many teenage boys sitting in front of her were solemn and respectful.

She felt she had been watched earlier in the long line of women and younger children. She and Maryanna and her children had waited in the downpour beneath umbrellas, prior to entering the farmhouse. Jodi could see she was definitely the odd woman out—the only one present without the typical Amish head covering and dress with long apron.

When everyone rose and knelt at their bench, she did so quickly, as well, glad for a change in position, and wondered what everyone was praying. Had they been instructed in German as to what to meditate upon, perhaps?

It felt strange at first, as unaccustomed as she’d become to prayer, and more than a little uncomfortable.
Hello, God. It’s been a while. I guess I don’t know what to say… .

But no sooner had Jodi begun when a sense of appreciation washed over her. She missed Karen desperately, but she really couldn’t feel sorry for her sister.
She’s with the Lord.

It’s myself I pity,
Jodi realized.

She tried it out.
Dear Lord, I know Karen’s happy with you—and completely healed, too. Thank you for taking care of her… .

As for herself, she had much to be thankful for, didn’t she? So she spent the time on her knees offering her gratitude for the numerous blessings in her life—caring parents, a fiance who loved her dearly, and this strange fall down the rabbit hole of Hickory Hollow.

Why me, God?
she asked.
What have you prepared for me to do here?

Although fractured, injured, and imperfect, Jodi realized she was willing. And it felt
“ever so
gut,
”
as Maryanna might say.

––

Maryanna rose from kneeling and saw Jodi several rows back, brushing away tears. Her heart ached for one so marred by grief.
Oh, that the spirit of this meeting might soothe her soul and bring her peace,
Maryanna prayed as she turned around and took her seat between her daughters.

It was then, when Preacher Yoder moved to the front of the room and began the first sermon, that Maryanna wondered if she was supposed to think of Jodi Winfield as a type of sister, just maybe.

Might that be?

Nothing should have surprised Jodi, the way things had been happening lately—finding little Sarah and being asked to sub at the Amish schoolhouse. But when Ella Mae Zook wandered over and sat down next to her during the shared meal, she was indeed surprised and quite pleased. “I’ve heard such nice things about you,” she told the elderly woman, whose dress was the same color as Maryanna’s.