Steadfast Mercy Read online

  Dedication

  I want to dedicate this book to my dad, Paul Droste. You are a man I greatly admire for your steadfast faith. Despite numerous trials and tribulations throughout your life, you have remained a faithful servant of the Lord. I will forever be thankful that God gave me a father of prayer.

  I love you, Dad!

  Epigraph

  “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

  1 Peter 5:10 (ESV)

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Acclaim for Ruth Reid

  Other Books by Ruth Reid

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Jonica Muller gazed out the window of the bus as it continued south on US-23 along Lake Huron’s majestic coastline. As white-capped waves raced powerfully toward shore, washing the beach with foam before receding back into churning water, Jonica couldn’t help but compare her life—her unrestful state—to that of the tossing waves. Since that fateful day last month, things had been a blur, and though she tried to stay strong for her son, losing her parents had left her numb and feeling abandoned by God.

  She shifted her attention to the tree-lined road, uncertainty of the future weighing heavily on her mind. Bright red, yellow, and orange leaves shaded the highway. A typical October day. Only nothing was typical about returning to her childhood settlement. Posen, Michigan, was a place of her past. A place she’d told herself she would never return. But that was before the accident—before life changed course.

  Jonica closed her eyes. Lord, did I think this decision through thoroughly—pray enough?

  Unease tightened her throat muscles. She reached for her travel bag on the floor to retrieve a bottle of water and inadvertently awakened her five-year-old son slouched against her side.

  Stephen yawned and pushed off her arm, shucking her wool cloak he’d been using as a blanket. “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost.”

  Curiosity sparked his eyes as he stretched his small frame to peer out the window.

  Jonica pointed to the water. “That’s Lake Huron.” She kissed the top of his head. “Your eyes are as blue as the mighty great lake.”

  He glanced back at her and smiled. “They are?”

  “They are indeed.” She placed her wool cloak over his shoulders. “The bus is drafty,” she said when he started to squirm. “I don’t want you sick when we arrive in Posen.”

  “I’m nett a boppli.” His bottom lip protruded into an irresistible pout.

  “Leave it on. Big boys get sick too.” Even wearing his coat, he’d been shivering since they pulled out of the station six hours ago.

  The temperature was bound to be warmer in the Lower Peninsula, but she hadn’t noticed any temperature difference inside the bus after they crossed Mackinac Bridge. Maybe October wasn’t the right time to make the trip. Maybe she should have waited until spring to close out her father’s affairs.

  Within a few miles Stephen lost interest in the scenery and curled back against her arm, then closed his eyes. She combed her fingers through his curly locks, gently massaging his scalp. The rays of afternoon sun highlighted his hair with a slight golden appearance, reminding her of brown sugar. God had certainly blessed her with a sweet mamm’s bu, someone to pour her heart and soul into training up in the way he should go.

  With her parents gone, they were alone. If it wasn’t for her faith in God, she might not have gotten through the past month. First, the accident claimed her mother, then days later, her father succumbed to his internal injuries. Shrouded in unanswered prayers and her faith shaken, she had to constantly remind herself that God had spared her son in the accident. She would have fallen apart completely had she lost Stephen too. He’d been walking between her parents when the car came fishtailing around the bend and hit them. How the car happened to miss her son had mystified the police and ambulance crew, and many of the members in her district had called it a miracle.

  Jonica pulled in a sharp breath. She’d come so close to losing her only child.

  Stephen was her only priority. And despite what some of the district members had been whispering, she could raise him alone. Just because her parents had gone to be with the Lord didn’t mean she had to get married, as widower Ephraim King had indicated when he delivered his matter-of-fact proposal.

  The scene at her father’s wake played across her mind, how Ephraim stood in her kitchen, feet shifting, forehead beading with sweat and looking pale, very pale. “I have four youngsters and nay fraa.” He averted his gaze and gulped. “And you have no one nau,” he said, his words running together.

  She straightened her posture. “I have Stephen.”

  “Jah, but without your daed’s support—”

  “Ephraim. This isn’t the time nor the place for such talk. The sun hasn’t even gone down on mei daed’s grave.”

  Another member of the district entered the kitchen with a casserole dish, and thankfully Ephraim used the opportunity to rejoin the men in the sitting room. Meanwhile, his words rang in her ears. “Without your daed’s support . . .”

  Ephraim was a hardworking man and his children were well behaved. He would be a good provider. She wouldn’t have to worry about the price of grain or if she and Stephen would have enough wood to heat the house all winter. Her father had liked Ephraim.

  So why was she fleeing Cedar Ridge and going back to Posen—where her heartache started?

  * * *

  Caleb Schulmann buckled the loin strap under his mare’s girth, his mind racing with all the chores he was leaving unfinished to run an errand for his elderly neighbor. With Edna’s mind failing, he wasn’t even sure there was a package to pick up in Rogers City, but she had insisted and even showed him on the wall calendar where she’d marked Arrival on October first.

  He didn’t mind doing Edna’s errands, as she had no family in the district. Besides, after he dissolved his construction company, she had kindly offered her acreage to farm, even refused money for the use of her land. He enjoyed working the fields. Sowing and harvesting kept his hands occupied and, more importantly, gave him alone time—a place to hide.

  Caleb climbed onto the buggy bench and waved good-bye to Edna looking out the kitchen window. He pulled onto the main road, the sunny sky grating on his nerves. He should be in the field. The first week in October marked the deadline to plant winter wheat. Between the torrential rainy summer, inexperience, and various other unexpected interruptions, such as running Edna’s errands, he hadn’t gotten the seed in the ground. Any more delays risked losing the crop to frost. In addition to planting the
wheat, he had forty acres to clear before snowfall if he was going to use the land for spring planting. Hopefully Edna’s package had arrived and the trip wouldn’t be in vain.

  He checked the post office in Posen first without success, heading next to Rogers City. It would have helped if Edna had remembered what was arriving. Today she’d appeared more confused than ever, rambling about her parents as though they were alive, while standing on a kitchen chair dusting the crown molding. Somehow Caleb managed to persuade her to get down from the chair by convincing her there weren’t any cobwebs. Her penchant to climb things when she had a history of balance issues concerned him since she lived alone.

  Caleb pulled into the parking lot in back of The UPS Store, got out, and tied Nutmeg to a tree branch. This was as good a place to check for the package as any. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d sent him to the store to send a box to her brother in Cedar Ridge. Perhaps she was expecting something in return.

  The store clerk talking with an Englisch customer acknowledged Caleb with a nod. “Be with you in a sec.” She placed a parcel on the scale and announced its weight.

  Caleb roamed the store, scanning the shelves stuffed with different packing materials. Rolls of bubble wrap, large and small envelopes, labels, folded boxes, everything someone would need to ship a package.

  A few minutes later, the clerk came up beside him. “May I help you find something?”

  “I’m here to check on a package. Did something kumm for Edna Muller?”

  The worker’s face contorted. “We don’t receive customer packages. We ship them. If she’s expecting a shipment from UPS, it’ll be delivered to her house by truck.”

  “I see.” He’d never used the service himself. Even when he was in construction, he’d picked up supplies from the local lumberyard or hardware store himself. “Thank you for your time.”

  As Caleb turned toward the door, he glimpsed an Amish woman outside the storefront window, seated on the bus bench and shivering. He went out the front door. Two twine-tied boxes sat on the ground beside the bench. As he headed in her direction, a clean scent of tea tree oil carried in the breeze. “Excuse me. Do you need assistance taking your boxes into the store?”

  The woman jolted, then slid a sideways glance at him. “Nay, I’m fine. Danki.” Upon meeting his gaze, the lines between her brows disappeared only to return seconds later. She tugged on the brim of her oversize bonnet, covering most of her face.

  The woman wasn’t from their side of the district. Otherwise she would have called him by name. “I’m Caleb Schulmann,” he volunteered, in hopes of setting her mind at ease.

  “Jah, I know who you are.” She shifted her attention to the wool cloak lying on the bench next to her.

  “You’ve sparked mei curiosity nau.” He moved in front of the bench. “You know me, but I don’t recall your name. What side of the district are you from?”

  “I’m nett from this area anymore.” After a moment, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “I’m here to visit with mei aenti Edna.”

  Caleb managed to hide his surprise. “Then you must be the package I was sent to pick up.”

  Chapter 2

  Jonica followed Caleb’s gaze to her wool cloak on the bench beside her. His furrowed brows revealed that he wanted to say something about her not wearing the winter garment, but the moment their gazes reconnected, he restated his earlier comment. “I was sent to pick up a package. Apparently, that’s you.”

  She rested her hand protectively on the cloak. “I’m a package, you say?”

  “So to speak.” Caleb shrugged.

  “That makes nay sense.” Aenti had said in her letter that she would be here to meet them when their bus arrived.

  “Mei buggy is parked around back.” He motioned to the alley between two buildings.

  “Danki, but . . .” No, she couldn’t accept a ride from him. She needed to stay far away from Caleb Schulmann.

  He dragged his hand over his face and let out what sounded like an impatient sigh. He stared down at the sidewalk, his strong jaw twitching. He hadn’t changed much in five years. As the construction foreman for many of the district’s barn raisings, he’d always been broad shouldered from lifting lumber and carrying roofing material up ladders. Back then, many of the girls her age had a hopeful eye on him, but him being six years older, he’d been indifferent to them all.

  A gust of wind sent a shiver down her spine. She rubbed her arms, wishing more every minute that she had waited until spring to make the trip.

  Caleb shucked his coat. “Here.” He extended the canvas outerwear to her. “Put this on.”

  “Nay, I couldn’t.” She looked down and studied a crack in the sidewalk. His gesture wasn’t more than a simple act of kindness, but even so, she wouldn’t accept.

  “Jonica, take the coat. You’re kalt.”

  She lifted her head. “You recognize me nau?”

  “Jah, I figured out who you are,” he said dryly.

  She wasn’t sure how to interpret his aloofness—or why it mattered. Ignoring his outstretched hand, she lowered her head and stared at the cement once more.

  “What do you say we get going? We can finish this talk on the way home.”

  Home? Posen hadn’t been her home in over five years. Not that Caleb had any reason to remember when or why her family had left. The thought of sharing a buggy bench with a Schulmann unsettled her nerves, but with the wind picking up and the temperature dropping, she didn’t want to risk Stephen falling ill. Especially since he hadn’t completely recovered from the accident. Though he hadn’t suffered broken bones, losing his grandparents had impacted him both emotionally and physically. Besides, it’d been a long journey for both of them. The sooner they reached Aenti Edna’s place the better.

  Jonica lifted a corner of the cloak. “Sweetie, it’s time to wake up. We have to geh nau.”

  Stephen blinked a few times, then pushed the covering away as he sat up and stretched.

  “You have a kind?” Caleb rasped.

  “Is that a problem?” Jonica was too busy adjusting her cloak around Stephen to worry about the tone in Caleb’s voice. “He can sit on mei lap if you don’t have enough room.”

  “Nay, there’s plenty of room. It’s just—” He thrust his coat toward her once again. “Put it on. Your lips are pasty and you’re trembling like a wet hund in winter.”

  Jonica scowled as an image of a snow-covered dog with big, sad eyes came to mind. Caleb must have taken her hesitation as stubbornness because he shifted his stance.

  “Please, I insist. Edna will have mei hide if you get sick on mei account.”

  Jonica hesitated, then finally accepted his offering. “Danki.”

  “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Nett long.” She pushed her arms into Caleb’s warm coat, the woodsy aroma engulfing her senses.

  He grabbed the boxes with their belongings. “Like I said, the buggy is parked in the back of the building.”

  Jonica gathered Stephen into her arms and hurried to catch up with Caleb. “Did mei aenti actually send you to pick us up, or did you happen to be in town for something else?”

  “She sent me.”

  When they reached the buggy, he set the boxes on the ground long enough to unlatch the back door, then placed their belongings inside. He glanced up at the sky. “I should be planting winter wheat right nau.”

  “Isn’t it too late for winter wheat? Crops went in over a month ago up north.”

  “I still have today. Hopefully.” He slid the passenger side door open with more force than necessary and it shuttered back a few inches.

  Jonica took that as a sign to drop the subject. Not that she wanted to encourage conversation in the first place. Aenti Edna’s farm was only ten miles away. She could keep quiet that long. After positioning Stephen on the bench between them, she once again covered him with her cloak.

  Caleb reached behind the bench and retrieved a quilt. “This should help keep you and
the kind warm.”

  His attempt to make her comfortable in an unnerving situation was considerate. She wouldn’t push his patience and decline the thoughtful gesture. “Danki.” She spread the large green-and-black quilt over Stephen, who had nestled under her arm. “Would you like part of the blanket, Caleb?”

  “Nay, I’m fine.” He tapped the reins and the buggy lurched forward. A few minutes later, they merged onto US-23 and headed south.

  Jonica gazed out the passenger window. It seemed a lifetime ago since she’d left the small Amish district where she’d grown up. The rural farmland surrounding the small town hadn’t changed much over the last five years—yet everything was different.

  “Is the bu sick or something?”

  “Nay. It’s been a long trip.” She drew her son closer to her side, his body heat radiating under the weight of the blanket and wool cloak. Stephen wasn’t normally shy or this quiet and shouldn’t still be this drained when he’d slept most of the trip. Her thoughts flitted to everything she’d packed in the boxes. A thermometer was one thing she’d forgotten. Hopefully Aenti would have one. If need be, she would pick one up at Yoder’s Market. Assuming the country store was still open.

  “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

  “He will once he gets to know you—I mean, nett you—anyone. It takes him a while to warm up to people.”

  “His mamm too,” Caleb muttered.

  “You talk under your breath a lot.”

  A grin stretched across his clean-shaven face. “You have keen hearing. I’ll have to remember that.”

  I read lips too. A trait she’d developed after becoming the talk of the district.

  Caleb clicked his tongue and the horse responded by increasing its pace. It wasn’t until he’d turned down the gravel road leading to her aunt’s house that he broke the silence between them. “I’m nett always as thoughtful as I should be.” He cleared his throat. “I read in The Budget about your parents going home to be with the Lord. You must really miss them.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Jah, we do.” Jonica removed a handkerchief tucked inside her dress sleeve and used it to soak up the tears before they fell. She’d managed to remain strong through her mother’s funeral, and while her father was in the hospital and during both their wakes, so why couldn’t she contain her emotions now?