Brush of Angel's Wings Page 18

  “Partly. But that’s not new information, is it?”

  “Nay.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked several times. “What else did he say?”

  He considered whether or not he should tell her more.

  “Please tell me.”

  “You’re too competitive. It’s hard for a man to feel he is weaker than a woman.”

  She put her hand over her mouth, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “You said mei cooking wasn’t that bad.”

  “I’m not Amish.” He kicked a clod of dirt, wishing he could kick himself. “And never will be.”

  “So you said.”

  “I told you, I want to go different places. See the country. Understand why my father left us.”

  “And you have to drive a truck to do that?”

  He couldn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice.

  “It’s a good living. Nothing to tie you down.”

  “Fine. Go. But I think you’re confused.”

  “Confused about what?”

  Her eyes flashed. “Everything.”

  Rachel stepped out of the house when she heard the car driving down their road. She shielded her eyes from the setting sun, wondering who among the Englisch would be coming down their drive. When she recognized the car, she gave a shriek of delight. “Daed! Daed’s home!”

  Jordan emerged from the barn, wiping his hands on a rag.

  Rachel ran down the porch steps and threw open the rear passenger door. She leaned in to give her father a hug. “I’m so glad you’re home. How’s your leg? Are you still in pain?” She knew she sounded as though she were ten years younger, her words spilling out in bunches.

  Daed forced a smile. “The pain isn’t bad. It’s gut to be home.”

  Rachel moved out of the way when she felt Jordan’s tap on her shoulder. “Let me help you, Micah.” Jordan leaned over to put one arm around Micah’s shoulders and offer the other for Micah to use as leverage.

  Mamm retrieved a bag from the trunk and set it on the ground. Rachel put her arm around her mother’s waist. “I missed you, Mamm.” She released her hug and took a second bag from the trunk. “I’ll get them both, Mamm. You go help Daed get settled.”

  Mamm gave her daughter’s cheek one stroke with the back of her finger. Rachel closed her eyes to bring the gesture into her heart.

  “Your father refused the crutches the hospital wanted to send home,” Mamm told her, looking at the two men; Daed limping toward the house, favoring his injured leg, and Jordan at his other side, lending support.

  “If I have to depend on crutches,” Daed said, “I’d rather make mei own pair. Their price is ridiculous.” He gritted his teeth. “But I don’t expect I’ll need them.”

  Mamm threw up her hands. “There is no convincing this man of anything.” She moved ahead of them and up the steps to open the door.

  “The fields are planted,” Rachel said.

  Daed smiled at Jordan. “Gut, denki.”

  “It wasn’t just me.” Jordan shifted underneath the weight of her father. “The entire settlement came to help.”

  “That’s what a community is for,” Daed said. “But it is far easier to give than to receive.”

  Mamm held the door while the men moved slowly up the stairs, her father grimacing with each one. At the top, Jordan stood sideways to allow her daed room to come through the door. Daed held on to Jordan’s shoulder until he reached the wooden chair in the sitting room. Once seated, he sighed and the deep lines across his forehead smoothed over. “Denki, Jordan.”

  “Of course. You’re welcome.”

  Mamm pushed another chair closer for Daed to prop up his leg.

  Rachel sidled up alongside her father.“Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  Rachel and Mamm went into the kitchen while Jordan stayed with her daed.

  Mamm’s brows crinkled as she looked at the containers of food spread out on the counter. “What is all this?”

  “Leftovers from the work bee. The rest is in the ice haus.” Rachel removed two glasses from the cabinet.

  Mamm uncovered a container and peeked inside. “I see we have plenty for supper tonight.”

  “Jah. It was gut of the women to leave the leftovers.” Rachel filled the glasses with water, then addressed her mother. “Sadie’s legs are so big, Mamm. She can’t seem to catch her breath with any activity. Is that normal?”

  “Sometimes.” Mamm’s face collected in thought. “She should still be checked.”

  “Timothy said she’s nett supposed to overdo things. I told Sadie I would keep up with weeding her garden.”

  “And we’ll do the canning together. But we’ll talk about that later. See to it that your daed gets his drink.”

  Rachel headed to the sitting room but stopped when she heard Daed and Jordan’s conversation.

  “Would you consider staying longer to work?”

  Rachel held her breath, waiting behind the wall for Jordan’s reply.

  “I suppose you’ll need some help while you’re laid up.”

  “Jah, I will,” Daed said.

  “Sure, I’ll stay. I’ll keep up the chores until your leg is healed enough for you to do them yourself.” Jordan’s voice sounded hesitant.

  Rachel let out the breath she’d been holding. “Denki, God. Maybe now Jordan can find his way to you.” She moved to the sitting room as though she came directly from the kitchen. She handed one glass to her father and one to Jordan, then sat on the floor and looked up at her father. “Daed, I’ve missed our family devotions. I hope you feel up to reading the Scriptures tonight.”

  Daed smiled and glanced at Jordan. “After the milking we can all read together.”

  Jordan kicked off his boots at the door in the grossdaadi haus. He hadn’t planned on staying—until Micah asked him to. He wouldn’t stay any longer than he needed to. He didn’t want Rachel drawing any more wrong conclusions.

  He respected Micah and so remained after the meal for devotions. But joining the family in order to listen to a Bible reading did not mean he would talk with the bishop. He didn’t need to. He knew what Bishop Lapp would say, “Seek the Scriptures.”

  He lobbed his hat over the hook.

  “Wise words,” Nathaniel said, wishing the advice would resonate with the young charge’s soul. “Let the God of hope fill you with joy and peace in believing. Abound in His hope, for there is understanding in His Word.”

  Nathaniel’s radiance infiltrated the ethereal realm with an iridescent glow. He had managed to keep the predator at bay. But how long would Tangus pace the perimeter and not attack the charge with his cursed lies?

  Unless Jordan called upon the Father, Nathaniel’s limited powers would not reach their potential. He longed to intercede. Other hosts of heaven spoke with the Master on their charges’ behalf with prayers that never ceased. Songs of praise saturated the throne room of grace and nullified the accuser’s petty grievances. Oh, how Nathaniel longed for activity to bring before the King.

  “God delights in the praise of His people.”

  Nathaniel stirred the hearth’s bed of embers, and sparks of fluctuating light drew Jordan to the fireplace. He infused a lulling chant of Deitsch hymns like Jordan’s mother sang to him as an infant and smiled as Jordan leaned in toward the sound.

  Jordan’s back stiffened. Dazed with bittersweet childhood memories, he stood from the stone hearth, moved to the rocker, and buried his face in his hands. He hummed the tune playing in his heart, tears brimming his eyes. To shift his attention away from the painful remembrance, he picked up the Bible from the side table.

  He set it on his lap, keeping it at the place in Isaiah where it had fallen open.

  “Fear not,” he read, “for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right h
and.”

  Jordan closed his eyes, a shiver piercing his soul; it was the same passage Micah had read only an hour ago.

  For the fifth evening, they gathered in the sitting room to listen to Daed read the Scriptures after supper. Tonight Jordan fidgeted on his seat. Rachel counted him changing positions eight times before Daed finished and closed the Bible.

  “Did you have a question, Jordan?” Daed asked.

  Jordan shook his head, then stood. “Denki for supper,” he said, directing his gratitude in Mamm’s direction.

  “There’s a nice breeze tonight,” Rachel said, following Jordan to the door. “I think I’ll sit outside awhile.” She hoped Jordan would join her, but he lowered his head, said a quick good night, and ambled across the yard.

  She eased onto the wooden swing and, with the gentle lulling of crickets chirping, closed her eyes.

  Sometime later she woke with a start when Jordan jostled her shoulder. She shifted to make room for him on the seat.

  He sat down beside her. “I know what you’re up to.” He kept his voice low.

  She yawned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not ready to talk with the bishop, so you can stop messing with my Bible.”

  She pulled her brows in, confused. “Jordan, I haven’t touched your Bible.” She hadn’t even gone inside the grossdaadi haus to gather his dirty clothes.

  “Then who keeps opening the Bible? Every night it’s opened to the same passage your father read.” He combed his fingers through his hair.

  Something fluttered inside her. Was God doing yet another thing for Jordan? “I haven’t touched your Bible. Perhaps the window was open.”

  “Rachel, you were right when you said I’m confused. I am. I just didn’t want to admit it. But that doesn’t give you permission to make this harder on me.” He stood, the moonlight revealing his glare. “We both know the Bible can’t open itself.”

  “God is nett a God of confusion.” Rachel began to push the swing back and forth ever so slightly. “Can you explain how the burn on your arm disappeared?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Maybe God’s trying to get your attention.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next evening Rachel avoided eye contact with Jordan during supper. After he put his plate on the counter, he made up an excuse to leave, successfully avoiding devotions. His absence made it difficult for her to pay attention to the Scriptures.

  Once Daed’s reading ended, Rachel excused herself to take a walk, hoping to clear her mind. She hadn’t gone too far on the wooded path before the sound of snapping tree branches startled her. She had seen white-tailed deer plenty of times at dusk while walking through the woods. She surveyed the area, but having limited light, she couldn’t make out anything. She cocked her head.

  Whistling? That certainly wasn’t wildlife. Then, coming around a bend in the path, was Jordan, hands in his pockets.

  His whistling stopped. He looked as startled to see her as she was to see him.

  He touched the brim of his hat in greeting, then nodded toward the river. “The water level is low.”

  “It hasn’t rained much.”

  He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Are we going to just talk about the weather?”

  Rachel looked down at her dress and straightened the folds. “What were you doing? Looking for an angel?”

  “Why would that matter to you?”

  “Seek God, not angels. Angels only act upon His orders.” Nathaniel peered upward. “You’re merciful to those who call upon Your name. How do I reach them with Your love?”

  “I guess I’ve only seen trouble come from seeking what one cannot find. A promise not meant for them.”

  He slid the brim of his hat round and round through his hands. “Where were you headed?”

  “Not the river.” She didn’t intend for her tone to sound sharp. Rachel reached for the birch tree and peeled off a section of bark. “It’s true about the angel, you know. Two years ago, Andrew Lapp’s fraa encountered an angel at the river. Katie wrote about it in the Budget. She couldn’t stop talking about the angel, and the more she talked, the more I wanted to find him.” She turned her attention to the golden sunset.

  Nathaniel created a gentle breeze with his wings.

  Jordan stood completely still.

  Rachel blinked a few times to chase the tears away, then wiped her face. “I rushed through chores and forgot to close the sheep pen. James noticed they were out and went to look for them.” She looked at the rustling leaves above. “Apparently one sheep was stuck in the river briers. James fell in trying to free it, and the current swept him under. That’s what Katie said. She was with him when it happened.”

  “I’m sorry.” She knew his eyes searched for contact with hers, but she would not give it.

  “I said some harsh things to Katie.” Her voice broke. “But the accident was mei fault. I shouldn’t have kumm looking for an angel. I should have known I wouldn’t find him.” She looked away.

  He kept quiet. She was grateful for the silent permission to continue her difficult revelation.

  “I was so foolish to go to the river searching for the angel. I worried about such unimportant matters.”

  “Did you seek the angel for answers?”

  “Jah.” She swallowed hard. “I should not have cared if a bu didn’t offer to drive me home from the singings. Narrisch, I know.”

  “No, it’s not.” He touched his palm to her cheek. “They’re all crazy. And blind.”

  He looked into her eyes as though trying to say more but lacked the words. His palm pulled her closer until their lips were so close . . .

  Rachel yanked away, her heart ready to explode. For a split second her eyes looked like a frightened animal’s. And then she ran.

  Jordan trudged toward the house. What was he thinking? Had he kissed her like he wanted, he would’ve complicated everything. He glanced behind him on the trail. Rachel not in sight, he dropped his pace. Hopefully she wouldn’t linger after dark in the woods.

  His heart ached listening to her talk about James. No wonder she didn’t want to spend any time at the river. He shouldn’t have gone there with hopes of finding an angel either.

  Reaching the clearing, a pair of headlights caught his attention. He trotted toward the Hartzlers’ driveway.

  Kayla climbed out of her truck.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She looked him up and down. “Hello to you too.”

  He smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude.”

  “I came over to give you a message.” She dug in the back pocket of her jeans.

  “A message?”

  “Yeah. Remember when you borrowed my phone?” She tried to straighten the crumpled paper. “Apparently you posted something on a trucker site?”

  “Oh, sorry.” He grimaced. “I should’ve told you.”

  “Well, you got a reply from someone named Clint Engles.”

  She handed him the paper. “I printed it off my e-mail.” Jordan squinted, trying to read the tiny print in the dark.

  She pulled his arm. “Come on. You can sit in my truck and read it.”

  His heart raced. He had never expected his father to contact him. Jordan climbed into the passenger seat of her pickup and removed his hat.

  She flipped on the interior light.

  For a moment, he tried to recall something more than his father’s wavy dark hair. He couldn’t. His hands trembled as he tried to read the paper.

  Dear Jordan,

  When I saw your post inquiring about me, I was thrilled. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. You’re a man by now, almost twenty-one. I miss that I wasn’t a part of your youth. I hope, since you were looking for me, that you’ve forgiven me. I want to see you. Please contact me again.

  Clint Engles

  He looked up from the paper. “He wants to see me.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I read it
.” She pushed a few buttons on her phone and handed it to him. “Write him back.”

  “Now?” His heart kicked up more beats. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell him . . . Well, you might want to first tell him your friend gave you the message.” She giggled. “You probably don’t want him thinking your e-mail name is Rodeo Girl.”

  “Oh, great.”

  She laughed harder.

  Jordan glanced at the blank screen. When he looked up, he spotted Rachel in the headlight beam. She continued to the porch and looked over her shoulder before entering the house.

  Jordan took a deep breath. He stared at the screen briefly, then typed a response.

  Clint,

  I didn’t think you would contact me. I’d like to see you too. I’m staying in Hope Falls.

  Jordan

  He hit Send, then slapped his hand on his forehead. “I forgot to say I wasn’t Rodeo Girl.”

  “Oh well. Guess you’ll have to let him think you wear pink when you ride.”

  “You think that’s funny.” He tried holding a phony scowl but laughed anyway. “Thanks for bringing me the message.”

  “I’ll let you know if he contacts you again.” She shifted on the seat to face him. “Is everything going all right here?”

  “I’m doing well. They’re really good people.”

  “I see your hair is growing out.” She tugged at a section of hair covering his ear. “Cute ringlets.”

  “You’re embarrassing me.” He slapped his hat back on his head.

  Her phone dinged. She glanced at it and held the phone out toward him. “He responded.”

  Jordan’s heart started up again. His father. Right now just a wave of technology away. He read the message.

  Jordan,

  My refrigerated trailer on my rig broke down, so I’m waiting for a loaner trailer to finish a few deliveries on the west coast. Then I’ll head to Michigan. I’ll contact you when I get to town. I won’t be in Michigan long, but if you want, you can ride along with me from there. It’d give us time to catch up.