Brush of Angel's Wings Read online

  She went inside, feeling jittery and uncertain. Mamm, Aenti Esther, and Aenti Leah chatted in the sitting room as they pinned quilt layers together.

  Rachel peered over Mamm’s shoulder. “Log cabin, jah?”

  Mamm looked up and smiled. “Jah, want to help?”

  Rachel glanced at her aentis. “In a little while.” She scanned the room. “Where’s Daed?”

  Concern swept her mother’s face. “Is something wrong?”

  Jah, but she couldn’t discuss it in front of her aentis.

  “I need to talk to him. Do you think he’s in the barn?” She bolted before they trapped her with questions she did not want to answer. If her aentis hadn’t been visiting, she would have preferred talking with Mamm. Although Timothy’s proposal had an odd-sounding business tone about it, and Daed had a gut business head.

  Rachel jogged to the barn and yanked the door open. “Daed?”

  “Over here at the calf pen.”

  With his foot propped up on the lower board and his forearms leaning on the top board of the pen, he looked deep in thought.

  “Any problems?” She glanced over the rail. The calf had grown into her knobby knees.

  “Nay, just finished mucking the pen. It’s always a good thing to spend time with a calf.”

  “The stubborn girl is growing.” Rachel sighed. “I’ve been too busy and haven’t seen much of her lately.”

  He turned to face Rachel. “I heard you did a fine job delivering her.”

  “Jordan told you that?”

  “His boastfulness of your ability was—”

  “Nett Amish.”

  “I was going to say honorable.” He patted her shoulder. “There aren’t many men who’d risk looking incompetent to praise a woman.”

  “Jordan’s nett incompetent.”

  Daed tipped his head back and guffawed. “Ach, I don’t believe he is.”

  “Then what’s so funny?” Not that she wanted to squelch his laughter. Since Sadie’s death, he’d kept to himself in the barn.

  “I find it interesting you’re defending him. I recall a young maydel criticizing his milking and plowing ability.”

  She gazed at the calf. “Jah, when he first arrived, I was angry.”

  As Daed’s face sobered, she braced herself for him to list the scriptures that referenced anger, but he kept silent.

  “I apologized to Jordan for my actions. I was jealous he would take the place of James and me in your heart.”

  Daed sighed and slowly shook his head.

  “You kept calling him sohn.” She clamped her bottom lip.

  Daed put his arm around her shoulder. “Jordan was a lost lamb, looking for where he belonged.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I wasn’t replacing James.” He pulled back. “Or you.”

  “But you kept dismissing me from mei chores.”

  He wrapped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. “I liked you working with me in the barn. You’re a hard worker. But I didn’t want you to miss out . . . on finding a husband.”

  Finding a husband. She drew in a ragged breath. “I want to talk to you about that.”

  He pulled her back to arm’s length and cocked his head.

  “Have you been in contact with Jordan? You’re nett jumping the fence to run off with him, are you?”

  “Nay.” She frowned.

  He blew out a breath. “He promised nett to take you away.”

  Rachel looked down and focused on a piece of straw. “You talked with him about that?”

  “Jah.” He lifted her chin. “I wanted him to stay, but if he didn’t choose our way, I didn’t want him taking you away from us. God has a plan for your life here among us. He has a husband for you.”

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep breath. “Timothy asked me to marry him,” she blurted.

  Daed shifted his stance and leaned against the calf pen railing. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I would pray about it and talk with you and Mamm.” He stroked his beard. “Are you asking mei permission?”

  “I don’t know what I’m asking, Daed. I’m confused.”

  “Did you pray about it?” His facial expression remained stonelike, yet warmth filled his eyes.

  “Nett yet.” Unable to look at him, she focused on the calf. “Do you think it’s wrong if I marry Sadie’s husband?” She dragged her sleeve across her face to wipe the tears that had fallen. Without giving him time to answer, she blurted, “Timothy doesn’t love me, but Ella needs a mother.” Her breath hitched. “Sadie—hasn’t been—gone—Ach, Daed, you want me to marry, ain’t so? And Timothy is a gut man.”

  Daed wrapped his arms around her again and patted her back. “You’ll know the answer after you pray about it.”

  “It’s hard to pray when my mind is so busy.”

  “It is. But that is when it is most important to listen.” He released her. “I approved of Timothy marrying Sadie; I would give mei blessing for you—if that’s who God directs you to marry.” He chucked her under the chin and looked into her eyes. “Don’t make a decision without waiting for the Lord’s reply.”

  Rachel knelt on the floor, resting her forehead against the bed. She closed her eyes and waited to calm her mind and shape her thoughts.

  “God, I don’t know where to begin. Ella needs a mother.” She paused. “I know nothing surprises you, but Timothy’s proposal sure took me by surprise.”

  Nathaniel eased down beside Rachel. “Talk to God about what troubles your heart. He’s listening to your prayers.”

  “I cannot believe he wants to marry so soon after you took Sadie home. I guess I understand why. It would be so difficult for a man to raise a little girl alone.” Rachel’s heart raced and she opened her eyes, gasping for breath. “I’ve always admired Timothy . . . I love Ella like she is mei own . . . I guess this would make sense.”

  “Don’t stop praying. Press through, child,” Nathaniel prompted.

  “Don’t bother,” Tangus said. “You’re not going to get an answer.”

  She waited for an answer, but none came. “Aemen.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Rachel studied Timothy’s expression as he sipped the sauerkraut soup she’d prepared. He washed it down with a quick gulp of milk.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I guess I’m nett hungry.” He pushed the bowl aside.

  “And your sandwich, you don’t want that either?” Rachel recalled Sadie saying that a cold meatloaf sandwich and sauerkraut soup was one of his favorite meals.

  “I guess not.”

  “I know it isn’t like Sadie’s.” She collected the dishes.

  He slid his chair out from the table and crossed the room. “Rachel, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “I understand. Sadie was a gut cook. Mei cooking won’t ever be like hers.” She turned away from the sink to gather more dishes and he caught her arm.

  “I never liked cold meatloaf and I’m nett fond of sauerkraut.”

  “But Sadie—”

  “Thought I liked it, I know.” He looked sheepish. “She worked so hard to please me that I never wanted to hurt her feelings.”

  “Sit and I’ll make you a peanut butter sandwich before I leave to help Naomi with her final preparations.”

  The color drained from his face. “You’re leaving already?”

  “You’ll be fine. I made a list of things you’ll need to do for Ella.” She sliced a thick portion of bread.

  Ella began to fuss. Rachel continued slicing the bread and ignored Timothy clearing his throat. He needed to take care of his daughter. After a moment, he trudged out of the room, unhappy with her.

  “Lord, show me how to build a bridge between those two. Ella needs her daed,” she whispered.

  When Timothy came for the bottle she’d warmed, he wasn’t as rigid holding Ella.

  “Relax. Just talk to her.” Rachel handed him the bottle. “If you don’t know what to say, quote the Scriptures. Sh
e needs to know your voice.”

  He stared at the ceiling and blinked several times. “Sadie used to say the boppli could hear mei voice during our daily readings.”

  “She was right. And Ella needs to hear your voice in your daily readings again,” Rachel said softly.

  He closed his eyes and Rachel slipped out the door.

  “Something’s troubling you,” Naomi said.

  Rachel continued stitching the dress hem until she felt her arm tugged. Naomi took her sewing from her lap. “Kumm to the kitchen and help me with the kaffi.”

  Rachel hadn’t wanted to dampen Naomi’s get-together, and now she feared her despondence had done just that.

  “I know something’s wrong.” Naomi planted her hands on her hips. “Why won’t you tell me? I’m your best friend.”

  Rachel blew out a breath. “Timothy proposed to me.”

  Naomi gasped. “When? What did you tell him?”

  “He asked the other day, and I haven’t given him an answer.” She reached for Naomi’s hands. “I didn’t want to spoil your wedding preparations. I’m sorry if I’ve been—”

  “You’ve been holding out on the most important news two friends can share.” Naomi laughed, then covered her mouth so the others in the next room wouldn’t hear.

  Rachel remembered the singing Naomi hosted when Rachel looked outside and saw Jordan isolated from the others.

  “Isn’t it wundebaar? We’ll both be fraas.”

  Rachel winced at Naomi’s chipper tone.

  “You’re happy, right?” Naomi’s expression became serious.

  “I’ll always think of Timothy as a bruder-in-law.” Rachel bit her bottom lip. “When I think about marrying him . . . I see . . . Sadie.” She spun toward the window. “I even dream I see her.”

  “And?” Naomi touched Rachel’s shoulder.

  Rachel couldn’t look at her. “She says it’s okay.”

  “If things were opposite and your husband wanted to marry Sadie, would you be upset?”

  “Nay,” Rachel said, “nett at all.”

  Jordan stared out the bus window. After a grueling four-day journey on a crowded bus, it felt good to be in Michigan. According to the elderly man seated next to him, they still had another six hours to go before reaching Hope Falls. Jordan calculated it would be just about milking time if he caught a cab immediately from the bus station.

  The man shifted in the seat. “Anxious to get home?”

  Jordan smiled. “Jah, I am.”

  The elderly man pointed to his shirt. “Are you Amish or Mennonite?”

  “Amish.” He thought about it a moment, then repeated, “Jah, I’m Amish.” At least he would be soon. He planned to talk with the bishop about baptism and joining the church. His mother was right; Hope Falls was where he belonged.

  “I passed through Hope Falls awhile back.” He smiled, a faraway look in his eye. “Nice place.”

  Sunlight spilled through the window and the man’s eyes appeared reflective. The man reminded Jordan of someone, but he couldn’t figure out who that might be. Something lingered at the edge of his memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

  The bus slowed as it veered onto the interstate off-ramp.

  “We must be stopping again.” He liked the idea of stretching his legs, but he hoped this wouldn’t be a long layover. He was anxious to get home. The bus came to a gear-screeching stop and expelled a pressurized gasp before the driver announced they were in Kalamazoo.

  The man beside him stepped into the aisle and pulled his hat out from the upper storage area. “It’s been nice visiting with you.”

  The sun rays streamed through the window and illuminated the twinkle in the man’s eyes. “You’re on the right road. Stay on course, and you’ll make it home.” The man headed toward the exit, the flow of passengers moving him along.

  Jordan tucked his duffel underneath the seat in front of him and then took his place at the end of the line of passengers. Jordan felt drawn to the man and wanted to talk to him. Through the window he could see the man disembark. He followed him with his eyes until he was distracted by the woman in front of him, who stopped to prop her foot on a seat and tie her shoe. By the time Jordan exited the bus, the man wasn’t anywhere in sight. He didn’t see him inside the convenience store and supposed someone had been waiting to pick him up.

  Jordan returned to his seat with a can of Coke and a bag of Fritos, finding a newspaper lying there. Puzzled, he picked it up. The Budget. Why would the Amish paper be here? He flipped the pages to the Michigan section and read Katie Bender’s column. Plans were under way for building the new school and selecting the teacher. She wrote about visiting with Fanny and Iva Troyer and wished their visit was under more cheerful circumstances. Jordan flipped to the front; the paper was over a month old. He rubbed his jaw. If their visit wasn’t under cheerful circumstances, why had Rachel’s sisters returned home?

  Rachel glanced at Timothy seated on the bench with the other married men. Bishop Lapp was about to announce Naomi and William as man and wife. Timothy had kept his head bowed during the entire ceremony.

  A heavy knot lay in her stomach. Last night after she spent a great deal of time praying, she went to sleep only to dream about Timothy. As they stood before the bishop in her dream, Timothy’s hair looked as ruffled as it did today. In her dream Ella cried, and when Rachel searched for her, she spotted Sadie holding the baby. Instead of passing Ella to Rachel, Sadie placed the baby in Timothy’s arms.

  Rachel scanned the room and stopped when she saw Ella sleeping in Anna King’s arms. Over the past few days Rachel had certainly missed caring for her niece. Although helping Naomi with her wedding preparations gave Rachel a breather from child-care responsibilities, it also gave her time to pray. Outside of the dream, she hadn’t come up with a clear answer to give Timothy. And her parents hadn’t brought up the subject.

  The bishop introduced the married couple to the church. The service ended with a prayer, and the guests mingled to congratulate the new couple.

  Rachel groaned when Katie Bender approached. She dashed outside, but the screen door creaked behind her. Before Katie spoke, Rachel knew she’d been followed.

  “Rachel, I wanted to ask you something,” Katie said.

  “Jah?” Rachel forced a smile. She hoped the news of Timothy’s proposal hadn’t gotten out. Katie never failed to follow up on rumors.

  Katie tugged on a stray thread on her dress sleeve. “I heard you were interested in the schul teacher position.”

  “Jah. I talked with the bishop.”

  “I know that since James passed away, you and I haven’t . . .” Katie’s eyes watered. “I looked forward to having sisters finally after I married James.” She paused. “Rachel, I loved James.”

  “I know you did.” Rachel reached for her hand.

  Katie looked at their clasped hands, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “I blamed you,” Rachel said, “and I was wrong. It happened because I wanted to see the angel so badly that I left the sheep pen open.”

  “I was the one who suggested you find the angel.” Katie dabbed her sleeve over her eyes. “I wanted to write another story about the angel. I let pride rule over me.”

  “I’ve struggled to forgive you.” Rachel blinked and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I want to move past it all. Will you forgive me, Katie?”

  In response, Katie opened her arms and drew Rachel in, giving her a warm hug. Rachel felt the forgiveness envelop her. It released something ugly that had been within her. It melted away and disappeared.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “I heard you want the teacher’s position.”

  Katie wound her fingers around each other. “I need something to do. I won’t ever get married.”

  Rachel thought about the option that lay before her. One Katie did not have. “I’ll tell the bishop I’m no longer interested.” She gave Katie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Everything will work out,” she said. She caught a glimpse of T
imothy heading toward the buggies. “I need to see Timothy about something.”

  “That’s okay . . . go. I’ll talk with you later.”

  Rachel hurried to catch Timothy. “Are you leaving?”

  “I am. I saw Ginger, so I supposed you wouldn’t need a ride over to the Yoders’ haus.”

  “Nay, but denki.” The dark circles under his eyes looked more pronounced today. “Is everything okay?”

  “Jah.” He lowered his head.

  “You don’t sound too convincing.”

  He lifted his face to the sky. “I can’t help but remember Sadie on our wedding day.” He closed his eyes. “She was beautiful.”

  A knot formed in her throat. “Jah,” she replied softly. Now would not be the right time to speak with him. At a loss for words, she glanced at the clouds. “You think it’ll rain?”

  “Nay.” He unfastened the horse from the post.

  Rachel followed him with her eyes, but he climbed into the buggy without even glancing at her. “So I’ll see you later?”

  He nodded, then clicked his tongue to signal the horse.

  “Ach, God, I pray that you’ll direct mei decision.” Rachel ended her prayer, hearing a baby’s cry. Without turning around, she knew it was Ella’s.

  Just as he’d hoped, Jordan was able to hail a cab within minutes of disembarking from the bus. He leaned against the backseat of the cab and closed his eyes, eager to be back for chores.

  Lord, I know in my heart Hope Falls is where I belong. Thank you for bringing me home safely.

  Without much traffic on the road, the twelve miles passed quickly. Jordan leaned forward and said to the cabdriver, “It’s the next house on the right.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, then dug his hand into his pocket for the fare. The car was barely in park before he jumped out, hauling his duffel behind him. “Thanks,” he said, handing the cash to the driver.