Arms of Mercy Read online

  “Mordecai and Irma’s daughter?”

  Catherine nodded. “She jumped the fence a little over a year ago. No one’s heard from her. Leaving the way she did saddened her family, especially Aenti Irma. It would be very hard to know your daughter was out in the world but nett know her whereabouts or how she’s doing.”

  “Jah,” he said softly, sadness clinging to his words. “I always thought suffering the loss of a newborn, especially for the mother, would be the most difficult pain to endure, but at least one could have peace knowing the child is with God. Whereas losing older kinner, who know right from wrong and still choose to leave the flock, the parent doesn’t have that same comfort.”

  Catherine’s throat tightened. “You sound like you speak from experience. Did you lose a newborn? Elijah, did your fraa and child die at the same time?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “We didn’t really have a marriage, nett in the sense of . . .” His face pinched together. “We were married in name only.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Edwina was the friend I had gone to visit in Badger Creek. I didn’t go with plans to marry her. I fully intended to return home before the pond froze over to take you skating.”

  “You remember your promise?”

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  A bucketload of questions sprang to mind—why would he marry in name only? Had someone twisted his arm to agree to such an arrangement? Pray, just pray. Catherine lowered her head. Lord, give me Your ears to hear and the wisdom to understand . . .

  “I never meant to hurt you, Cat. I was broken by the decision I made.”

  Feeling her insides crumbling, she kept her head down, her eyes focused on her folded hands in her lap. “I believe you,” she whispered.

  He let out a heavy breath that apparently he’d been holding and went to reach for her hand.

  Catherine withdrew her hand. “Why did you mislead me? I thought . . . we had something special—then you marry someone in name only?”

  “We did, and I hate that I ruined everything.” His face pinched for a brief second as he prepared his thoughts. “Growing up, Edwina was always frail. She could never run and play like the rest of us, and she was often left out of activities. Her lungs weren’t strong enough to keep up, and I used to tease her playfully—until I learned she had cystic fibrosis. After that, we became gut friends. When the other kids were busy in the yard playing hide-and-seek or tag, we were inside playing board games so pollen didn’t trigger her allergies and clog her already-limited breathing. I didn’t mind. Our families were close—still are. We made plans to go to the youth singing together when we were old enough, but mei family fell on hard times and we were forced to move.”

  He turned silent a moment. “In Posen I made new friends, but Edwina and I continued our friendship through letters. Eventually, I talked you into courting me.”

  Catherine licked her dry lips. “Did you tell her about me?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I wanted to, but I thought it’d be like salting a sore. I didn’t want her to view her life as standing still when mine was moving forward.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sorry, Cat. When I received the letter about how she didn’t have much time to live, I had to go see her one last time.”

  Had to . . . ? Catherine glanced up and caught him wiping his bloodshot eyes with his hands. It wasn’t difficult to figure out the rest of the story. Maybe he would spare her having to listen to the details of reuniting with his childhood love and getting married.

  But he continued in the same melancholy tone, and she didn’t have the heart to cut him off when it was painfully obvious he had something to get off his chest.

  “We had a gut visit, and I tried to leave . . . once. But then she told me her biggest regret in life was dying unmarried. According to Edwina, marriage is every maedel’s dream.”

  Catherine understood too well how maedels are brought up to cook and clean and care for their younger siblings, all in preparation for becoming someone’s fraa. Marriage was every maedel’s dream—she could certainly attest to that.

  “Visiting with Edwina and her parents, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything her family had done for mine. We would have lost the farm if they hadn’t helped us financially. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sure that wanting to please her parents and mine had something to do with proposing to Edwina. She didn’t have long to live, and I wanted to give her the opportunity to die without any regrets . . .”

  In a strange sort of way, Catherine admired his sensitivity. He stuck by a dying friend. Jah, she still believed Elijah was a good man with a good heart.

  “The wedding itself was a short, family-only ceremony. Edwina wasn’t well enough to leave the haus.” He removed a hankie from his back pocket and dried the corners of his eyes. “I prayed that you would understand when I came back to Posen after—well, after I explained everything. I had no idea her mamm put the wedding announcement in The Budget, and for that I’m truly sorry. You shouldn’t have had to read about it in the newspaper.”

  Catherine blinked tears off her lashes. Over the years she’d come up with a dozen or more reasons why he ran off to get married. Why he didn’t—and Zach didn’t—believe she was marriage material. Never once had this type of scenario played out in her mind. But why would it have? He’d never spoken of Edwina. How would she have known he was fulfilling a friend’s dying wish—being a hero for someone else—while at the same time crushing her heart?

  Catherine took a short breath and staunched the bitterness from seeping into every fiber of her soul. “How long did you have with her?”

  “Three months.”

  “Months?”

  Elijah gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  It wasn’t until he nodded that the time span really sank in. A chill settled into her bones that no words could defrost.

  He eyed her intently, as if studying her icy reaction for some form of hope or maybe forgiveness. If he was able to rid himself of the guilt, clear his conscience, what would it matter? She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d been jilted—again—hornswoggled into feeling sorry for him. If he’d only been married three months, why did it take six years for him to come back to Posen? Her chest grew heavy as a thought crept into her mind. If it hadn’t been for his grandmother’s one hundredth birthday, would he have come back—ever?

  Don’t ask. Finding out the truth would only drive a stake deeper in her heart. Think of other things.

  She turned and looked out the window. Street after street of dilapidated houses hugged the concrete wall divider, separating the tiny yards from the busy interstate. The noisy traffic would make it impossible to sleep in one of those houses. It made her appreciate the farm, even living under her brother’s roof.

  She’d grown tired of feeling constantly underfoot, invading George and Gwen’s space. Catherine had made it clear to those who would listen that it was time for a change, and thankfully the opportunity arose to help in her cousin’s bakery. She hoped the houses weren’t close together like this in Florida.

  Not long after they had crossed into Ohio, Elijah tapped her hand. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Just thinking about what it’d be like to live in a noisy city. I don’t see how people can sleep with this much traffic noise.”

  “Their brains eventually tune it out. City folks would probably have a difficult time adjusting to living in the country and listening to crickets chirping all night.”

  “Howling coyotes too.” She recalled summer nights on the farm and how peaceful it was to listen to the livestock through the open window. “I wonder if I’ll get used to Florida.”

  “If you can sleep on this crowded bus, you’ll do fine.” He winked. “You could always rest your head against mei shoulder and practice sleeping.”

  She widened her eyes and heat flushed her cheeks. Catherine reached for the tote bag at her feet and removed the partia
lly eaten sandwich from earlier. She unwrapped it from the foil. “Are you getting hungry? There’s another full sandwich and plenty of cookies.”

  “You know me. I can always eat.”

  Was it true? Did she really know him? He was correct in that he did used to have a healthy appetite. He always went back for seconds on anything she made for any district gatherings. Truth be told, she was glad to have someone on this journey to share meals with.

  Catherine handed him the sandwich. “I’m glad you came with me on this trip.” Her thoughts slipped from her mouth unchecked, and her face heated. “Not with me per say, but—”

  He winked, and her cheeks burned all the more.

  “Me too.” He held her gaze several seconds.

  “Did you want cookies?” She redirected her attention to the handbag.

  “Maybe one.” He selected a treat. “Don’t forget to tell Julie these are gut.”

  “Gwen and Leah made that one.”

  “Tell them too.” He took a bite.

  Catherine nibbled on the sandwich, but with so many questions rumbling in her mind, even peanut butter tasted sour. “So why did it take you six years to kumm back to Posen?”

  Sourdough bread clogged the back of Elijah’s throat, and it took several attempts swallowing hard to get it down. He expected her to have questions, but her bluntness caught him off guard.

  “You said you were only married three months.”

  “That’s true.” He set his sandwich down on the foil wrapper. “Before Edwina died, she had asked me to stay in Badger Creek and help her daed. He had been working long hours in the sawmill to pay medical expenses, and he needed help through harvest-time, so I agreed. I owed her family that much.”

  He paused to give her opportunity to speak, but she said nothing.

  “I found out later that while the Troyers were helping mei parents put food on our table, they were struggling and having to go without. So knowing they needed mei help with harvest, I wanted to stay a few more months.”

  “And one harvest led to another five—I understand. Edwina had a schweschaler?”

  “Nay, she didn’t! And I don’t think you do understand. About the time the first harvest had ended, I heard you and Zach had started courting. I didn’t have any reason to return.”

  “You were misinformed. We weren’t courting then.”

  Crushing heaviness filled his heart. Lord, was it Your will to keep us apart? Why? I don’t understand. Elijah glanced at Catherine. Please don’t ask who misinformed me.

  She shifted her back toward him and stared out the window. Was she questioning God too?

  Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Conversations and laughter buzzed from all around except between Catherine and him. For them it was as if they were traveling separate directions.

  Then a toddler in the seat ahead of them broke the silence by popping up with a toothy smile. “Hi.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave.

  Catherine’s smile returned as she waved back at the child. “Hiya.”

  Having their attention, the little girl covered her eyes with her hands, then pulled them away with a giggle. Catherine was quick to mimic the action, and soon a new friendship was formed as the two went back and forth playing peekaboo.

  Elijah sighed. This was the Catherine he remembered. Warm, friendly, playful with children.

  “Isn’t she a sweetie?” Catherine said after a while of repeating the same gestures. “She reminds me of Julie as a toddler.”

  “You’re very gut with kinner.”

  “I’ve always wanted a large—” She clamped her mouth closed.

  Zach, you fool. You should have opened your eyes sooner and proposed long ago.

  Elijah pretended not to notice her unwillingness to share her hopes and dreams, and focused on the little girl instead. He covered his eyes, but the moment he peeked between his fingers, the child’s bottom lip trembled. Her sweet face puckered into what looked like a shriveled apple, and big fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Elijah tugged on his oversized, floppy ears and crossed his eyes, but none of his silly faces stopped her crying.

  When the girl’s mother pulled the child into her lap, Elijah glanced over at Catherine and shrugged. “I don’t seem to have the same effect as you on kinner.”

  “Takes practice. And it’s probably past the child’s bedtime. I’m a little tired myself.” She shifted into a slouched position and leaned her head against the seat.

  “You can use mei shoulder as a pillow.”

  “Danki, but I’ll be fine.” Her eyelids blinked heavily and finally stayed closed. After a few minutes of silence, she muttered sleepily, “Why didn’t you write?”

  Because foolishly he’d wanted to tell her everything in person— but he waited too long. She had moved on with her life. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it later.”

  Thankfully she’d fallen asleep. Had Catherine been awake, she would have insisted on knowing and understanding everything, but even he couldn’t explain why he never sent all the letters he’d written.

  He studied her high cheekbones, heart-shaped face, and perfect lips. She took his breath away, and she wasn’t even aware of her power over him.

  Catherine moved around in her seat with her eyes closed. After a moment her head bobbed heavily, then her cheek came to rest against his shoulder. Listening to her soft exchanges of air, Elijah closed his eyes. He wanted to savor this moment as if it were his last. No more regrets. If he had a chance to rekindle their relationship, he was going to. But first he had to find out about Zach. Was she planning to marry him or not?

  Catherine wiggled again. This time she moved closer into his waiting arms. A smile filled his face as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

  Jarred awake, Elijah braced for impact as the bus fishtailed, then finally swerved to the side of the road and struck something that brought them to a hard stop.

  Chapter 13

  Unexpectedly thrown forward in the seat, Catherine jolted awake. She hadn’t registered what had happened when Elijah’s strong arms pulled her back against his chest and held on to her with a crushing force. Still dazed, she didn’t move.

  Cries of frightened children and chatter of panicked passengers filled the bus cabin. Spots of lights from electronic devices and phones began to glow as some of the travelers made phone calls; others just held up their phones facing the front, recording whatever they could capture on video.

  Someone held up a bright light and flashed it at people in nearby rows. Its beam landed on them. “You guys all right?”

  “Jah, thank you,” Elijah replied.

  The light moved to another row.

  Catherine pushed off Elijah’s chest, turned, and peered out the window at nothing but darkness. “What happened?”

  “I think we hit something.” Illumination from various portable devices lit the area, revealing Elijah’s concerned expression.

  The overhead lights flickered on, then the speaker system squawked. “Folks.” The driver waited for the murmuring to die down. “Please stay seated while I . . . check out—”

  Catherine and Elijah exchanged glances when the man stopped midsentence. Passengers ahead of them stood, making it difficult to see what was happening at the front of the bus.

  “The driver collapsed!” a man from farther up shouted.

  “Is there a doctor on board?” A different man spoke into the crackling microphone, his voice wobbly with worry.

  A lanky man from the back of the bus pressed his way down the aisle. “I’m a first responder,” he called out, moving to the front.

  Lord, please heal whatever is wrong with the driver, and watch over him and all of us on the bus. A strong odor filled the cabin. Catherine tilted her head up slightly and sniffed something steamy . . . mechanical, or did it smell sweet?

  “Is something wrong?” Elijah asked.

  She breathed in through her nose again. The pungent mixture was definitely new and out
of the ordinary. Heated mechanical oils and steam filled her senses, making her light-headed. “You don’t smell anything?”

  Elijah tipped his face. “Nothing unusual.”

  Sirens blared as the police and fire rescue arrived. Catherine strained to see two men in reflective gear place red flares that illuminated the road and two more officers waving big flashlights to reroute traffic.

  Soon after the ambulance arrived, the crew placed the driver on a gurney and took him away. Catherine listened as other passengers speculated that the driver suffered a heart attack and the bus hit the guardrail.

  She turned her attention to what was happening outside her window. The driver was being lifted into the back of the ambulance, his mouth and nose covered with an oxygen mask. A flash of memories took her back to when her father lay dying on the barn floor. When he didn’t come in for breakfast, her mother had sent her out to the barn to fetch him. Only she couldn’t wake him.

  Elijah nudged her with his elbow. “You okay?”

  She nodded, more interested in the officer who had entered the bus and picked up the microphone. “If everyone could sit down and give me your attention, please.” The officer waited for the chatter to settle. “Is anyone else hurt?”

  “I can’t move my shoulder and my fingers are numb.”

  Another man held his hand to his neck and complained about pain radiating from the back of his head, along his spine, and down to his lower back.

  As the officer radioed for additional assistance and a second ambulance, Catherine immediately began praying for those injured and for the bus driver’s heart.

  Elijah leaned closer to Catherine. “Are you hurt?”

  “Nay. What about you?”

  He shook his head. “Looks as though we’re going to be here awhile.” He tapped his shoulder. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

  “Danki, but I, ah . . . I don’t think that’s a gut idea.”

  “Sleeping isn’t a gut idea, or using mei shoulder as your pillow?”

  Heat infused her face as she recalled how he offered his shoulder earlier, and although she had refused, she ended up pressed against his chest. Strong arms. Gut reflexes. Don’t think on those things, foolish maedel.