The Search (18 page)

Early the next morning, Lainey waited for Jonah to come into the bakery. She kept peering out the window, looking for him. She smiled when she saw him turn the corner. She looked forward to their visits and was surprised at how comfortable it felt to be with him. She had a cup of coffee ready for him and let him sit down before she gave him the message from the hospital.

She sat down across from him. “They said you’re not a match. You have three HLAs that match, but Simon needs six HLAs.” She scrunched up her face. “I’m not really sure what that means.”

Jonah stirred his coffee solemnly. “It means that even though we have the same blood type, there are different antigens in the blood.”

She thought he would be relieved by the news, but instead, he seemed distressed. They amazed her, these Amish. They genuinely cared about people who were difficult to care for. The timer for the oven went off and she picked up her mitts to take the Morning Glory muffins out. She was ashamed to realize that she wasn’t sure she would give Simon her bone marrow, at least not as readily as Bertha and Jonah had offered theirs. Had she really forgiven him, then? Or was it a conditional forgiveness? Only good as long as he didn’t ask anything of her. Was that truly forgiveness?

Jonah was watching her face as she took the muffins out of the pan. He stood and came to her. “What’s troubling you?”

She finished setting the hot muffins on a cooling rack. “I told Simon I forgave him for being such a pitiful father. But the truth is, I’d only given him a small piece of forgiveness. The part that benefited me. I released my anger toward him for how he treated me and my mother. But I don’t want the best for him.” She took off the mitts and placed them on the counter. “I’m not even sure if I care if he lives or dies.” She looked away. “That must shock you.”

He leaned his back against the counter, his arms crossing his chest. “It doesn’t shock me. I remember Simon’s drinking and his get-rich-quick schemes. And his temper.” He locked eyes with her then, and before she knew it, he brushed a curl of her hair away from her eyes.

His touch was so gentle, feathersoft, it nearly undid her. She was finding herself attracted to Jonah despite her best efforts to ignore—even stamp out—those feelings. Falling for Jonah didn’t make any sense. But still, there was . . . just . . . something about him. She felt so safe with him, as if she could be entirely herself. She had never felt this way about a man before. But she couldn’t forget about the Sallie woman back in Ohio. Jonah had never mentioned her to Lainey, and Bess didn’t mention her either, other than that one time. But Lainey hadn’t forgotten.

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m amazed you don’t feel relieved that you’re not a match.”

“I’m not relieved.” He crossed his arms again. “I wish I had been a match. Since I’m not, my mother will be after me to get Bess tested. She’s brought it up nearly every day. I keep telling her there’s no way it would work. Bess is Simon’s grandniece. But you know my mother. She gets like a dog with a bone over things.”

Lainey felt a cold shock run through her. She turned away from Jonah so quickly that she dropped the empty muffin pan and it clattered as it hit the ground, echoing throughout the bakery.

Billy had offered to show Bess how to graft roses, so when the weather cooled off one day in late July, with gray skies threatening rain, he told her today was the day. Good grafting weather. He showed her how to pick out the strongest rootstock, healthy and undamaged. Then they went out to the rose fields to cut some slips.

“Your grandmother said she has an order for ten plants of white sweetheart roses,” Billy said. He pointed out the best plant. Then he pulled out his knife and made slanted cuts from branches, quickly wrapping them in a wet dishrag. “Don’t want the cut pieces to dry out.”

Raindrops started to splatter their faces as they hurried back into the greenhouse. Inside, the air was warm and musty. Billy made an assembly line with rootstocks and slips. First, he dipped the slips into a powdery substance to help the root take, then carefully matched each slip to a rootstock branch before wrapping it with gauze. “Roots may not be glamorous, and they aren’t even seen, but they’re the source of a rose’s strength,” he told her, as if he were a teacher and she a student.

“Like people,” Bess murmured.

“How’s that?” he asked absently.

“It was in one of the sermons last week. ‘If our roots go deep in the knowledge of God and our lives are hidden in Christ, we’ll be strong. More likely to survive the storms of adversity.’ ” She surprised even herself by remembering what the minister had said. It was Lainey’s influence. The more time she spent with Lainey, the more interested she became in spiritual things. Lainey quizzed Bess and Jonah after each church service. She understood more and more Deitsch now and was eager to piece together what she was learning. Her enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m thinking of joining the church,” Bess said aloud to Billy. She had been considering it, but it gave her a shiver to say it aloud. It seemed more real.

Billy glanced at her. “I already did. Last year.” He put away the powder. “If you know it’s right for you, no point in putting it off, is the way I see it.” He brushed one palm against the other. “But you are awful young. Not sure the bishop would allow it.”

She rolled her eyes at that slight. She was, after all, nearly sixteen. She doubted Billy was much older when he became a member. He had joined at a younger age than most boys did, but that didn’t surprise her. Billy wasn’t like most boys. In many ways, he seemed already grown-up, solid and unwavering. Except when it came to girls. In that area, Bess thought, his judgment was quite poor. Abominable.

Billy liked to talk while he worked, and Bess loved listening to him. Today, he told her that he wanted to buy his own farm as soon as he turned twenty-one. “No mortgage, either. I’ve been saving every penny. I want to own my land free and clear. You see, land is a trust, Bess,” he said, starting to sound like a preacher. “I think it’s something you hold onto for a lifetime. Something a man passes on to his sons. And his sons pass on to their sons. Land should be cared for and improved in every generation—just the way your grandparents have done here at Rose Hill Farm—and that way, we’re passing on a legacy.”

Bess studied Billy as he worked. She felt keenly aware of every detail. She liked being this close to him. The rain was coming down hard now, soughing on the roof above them. She pretended for a moment that she and Billy were married, working side by side on their farm. Talking together, laughing together, making plans together. She wished this moment wouldn’t come to an end, wished she could stretch the morning and make it last forever. Why was it that three hours in school felt like a week, but three hours with Billy Lapp felt like mere minutes?

The morning melted away too soon. The rain ceased and a bright sun flooded the space with light as Bess fell more in love with Billy than ever. Unfortunately, he showed no sign of feeling anything more for her than a kind of platonic friendship. But he hadn’t mentioned Betsy Mast all morning. That thought made Bess happy.

And then it was noon and Mammi was calling to Bess to stop for lunch, which meant Billy would head home. She sighed. Time spent with Billy was always over too soon.

Dear Robin and Ally,

Work at the bakery is going well here in Stoney Ridge. So well that I’ve even given some thought to postponing culinary school. But don’t worry; I haven’t decided anything for sure.

Love,

Lainey

At lunch one day, Bess mentioned to Mammi and her father that Lainey would be dropping by later in the afternoon. Afterward, as Bess was washing dishes at the kitchen sink, she happened to glance out the window and notice her father by the pump. His head was under the pump. Then he skinned off his shirt and was washing his entire upper region. He was soaping seriously and Bess grinned. Her dad had never said so, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he and Lainey were growing sweet on each other. They shared smiles with their eyes and stole glances at each other when they thought no one was looking. But Bess saw and it suited her just fine. She had a hope for her father and Lainey, but she knew it was best to keep that thought quiet. She knew when to leave things be.

When Lainey arrived at Rose Hill Farm, Mammi was over at the Yoders’, helping to clean the house for church that weekend. Another neighbor had come to ask for Jonah’s help to catch a runaway horse. The house was empty but for Bess and Lainey. This afternoon was working out better than Bess had even hoped.

She told Lainey she was going to teach her how to sew using a treadle sewing machine.

Lainey looked dubious. “I can’t even sew a button on my blouse.”

“Good news,” Bess said. “No buttons.” She laid out a few yards of dusty plum–colored fabric and spread a thin tissue pattern over it. As soon as she had smoothed it all out over the fabric, she pinned one edge and pointed to Lainey to start on the other side.

“What are we making?”

Bess smiled mysteriously. “A dress.”

After cutting out the pieces, Bess threaded the machine and started to push the pedal with her foot, causing the needle to go up and down at a steady speed. She sewed one seam and then turned it over to Lainey. “You do the other side. Just sew a straight line.”

It took awhile for Lainey to get the rhythm, to pump her foot steadily so the machine would work. “You made it seem so easy, Bess. It’s harder than it looks!” But then it came together. She held up the shapeless dress. “Done!”

“Not hardly,” Bess said. She took two sleeves and pinned them to the main section. “Watch carefully. Curves are trickier.” She whipped off one sleeve and let Lainey take her place.

After Lainey finished, Bess held it up and frowned. “Pull out the stitches and we’ll do it again.”

So Lainey did. Two more times until Bess was satisfied. They worked the rest of the afternoon and took the dress downstairs to press out the wrinkles.

Bess showed Lainey how to light the pilot light for the Coleman iron. They drank sweet tea while they worked in the kitchen. Lainey ironed the dress and held it up for Bess’s approval. “There you go! A new dress for you.”

Bess shook her head. “Not for me. It’s for you.”

Lainey looked stunned, so Bess added, “I don’t know if or when you feel the time will be right to start wearing our garb, but I thought it would be good for you to have a dress. For when you’re ready.”

Lainey looked at the dress. “Should I try it on?”

Bess nodded, pleased. “There are pins on my bureau top.”