A Heart Made New (40 page)

Her bravado cracked for a second. Scared eyes stared out at him. “No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Call your dad. He’ll come get you.”

“Come with me.”

“No.”

She stared at him for a long second. Then she picked up her skirt and turned away. “Mayor Haag will think I’ve run away with her money. I’d better get back.”

“Yes, you’d better get back.”

The double doors squeaked, opened, and closed behind her.

She was gone. Best to wait for Annie here. He’d tell Luke about Daniel later, let him mention it to the bishop and Daniel’s father. History would not repeat itself.

D
avid rapped on the door and then walked into Doctor Corbin’s office unannounced. Once again no assistant sat in the reception area. Not wanting to wait, he bypassed her desk and stuck his head into the doctor’s area. Doctor Corbin looked up from the folder he’d been reading. Surprise on his clean-shaven face, he removed his wire-rimmed glasses, tossed them on the desk, and rubbed his eyes. “David, you read my mind. I sent you a note this morning. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought maybe you didn’t get it. I know you divide your time between the farm and the bakery—”

“Kinsey died.”

Doctor Corbin leaned back in his chair, the creases in his forehead deeper than David had ever seen them. “Yes, but I can’t—”

“I know you can’t talk to me about other patients.” David sank into one of two straight-backed chairs on the other side of the enormous oak desk covered with neat stacks of folders. He removed his hat and smoothed his fingers across the rough straw. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“Good.” Doctor Corbin held up a manila folder. “Let’s talk about the results from your last test.”

David shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” His face puzzled, Doctor Corbin laid the folder on his desk. “I need to discuss the—”

“I don’t want to know what that paper says.”

“Why not?”

David searched for the right words to make the man understand. He didn’t have control of his life. God did. God had a plan. David didn’t need to know what it was. He only had to believe. Whatever happened, God would take care of him. And of Annie. “There are some things you have to take on faith.”

“Faith is important to a patient’s recovery, I believe that.” Doctor Corbin touched the file. “Medicine is important too. Your treatment is important. These test results are important. You’ll want—”

“I’m not going to stop receiving medical care. I want to live.” Even as he said those words David knew he would do everything in his power to live—for Annie’s sake—but in the end, when it was time to go, he would go willingly. “I want to ask someone something and get an answer before I know the results. Because I have faith. I need to know she does too.”

“Okay.” His confusion still clear on his face, Doctor Corbin cocked his head. “But at some point, we’ll discuss these results and the next step in your treatment?”

“Yes, but right now it’s a question of faith.”

“It’s a question of medicine.”

“Faith comes first.”

Doctor Corbin studied the papers in front of him. After a few seconds, he lifted his gaze and met David’s head-on. “Come see me when you’re ready.”

David wanted to go to the bakery now and talk to Annie, but he wouldn’t. He would wait for the right time to have the conversation in private. Quietly. The prayer service would be at the Shiracks’ farm this Sunday. Afterwards, they could go for a walk. He’d ask her the question he should’ve asked her six months ago. He would do this properly. “On Monday. I’ll come talk to you on Monday.”

“I respect what you’re doing. Most of my patients are tearing down my door, trying to get their results. I’ve had patients stalk me even when they know I don’t have their results yet.” Doctor Corbin stood and offered a hand to David. “You’re a brave soul.”

The thought of not knowing whether the chemo had worked or whether he faced more excruciating treatments didn’t sit as heavy on him as it once had. David accepted the doctor’s hand. “I’m not brave. I have faith.”

Annie laid the last dish on the rack and dried her hands. All the dishes were washed, but no one was in sight to dry them. Leah was putting the twins to bed. Charisma hadn’t come home from the restaurant yet. Annie glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock. Almost bedtime. It would only take a few minutes to dry the bread pans and cookie sheets and put them away. Ignoring a sudden weariness, she wiped the towel in her hands across a pot. At least it was quiet. She needed time to absorb the news Luke had brought to the supper table. Kinsey no longer suffered. She lay in the arms of her Savior. Annie couldn’t keep her thoughts from going to David. She wanted to go to him, but uncertainty held her back. He wouldn’t want her to witness his sadness. It would be a painful time of letting go for him. Like losing a daughter.

If he had one. The thought pierced her heart. David would see his own passing in Kinsey’s. All the lost days. All the lost chances to be a husband and father. Hot tears burned her eyes. She mourned those lost days too. She mourned her lost opportunity to be a wife to David and to be a mother to his children. She bowed her head and prayed.
I’m selfish, God. Please forgive me for not understanding. Help me accept this as Your will. Thy will be done.

Determined to look forward from now on, she grabbed another wet pan. They would have lots of work to do in the morning. They had the prayer service on Sunday, which meant Saturday would be spent scouring the place from top to bottom. Mark could mow the grass. Josiah and Luke would pick up the benches and get them set up with help from the onkels and Thomas.

Tomorrow would be a full day, as would Sunday.

She counted the loaves of bread. Two zucchini, two banana, two
pumpkin. And fifteen dozen peanut butter, chocolate chip, and oatmeal-raisin cookies. A good start. With all the desserts others would bring, there should be plenty.

“It smells really good in here.” Charisma traipsed into the kitchen, Luke David in one arm, the diaper bag in the other. Gracie trundled along behind her, humming a song Annie didn’t recognize. “Look at all these cookies.”

Tossing the bag on the floor, she plopped down in a chair and reached for a cookie. “It was nice of your brother to come pick me up, even if he did keep his mouth shut the entire trip home. You’d think I bite or something. Hmmm, I’m starved.”

“You didn’t eat at the restaurant?”

“Employees get a fifty percent discount, but I didn’t want to use my tip money for that. I won’t get a paycheck for two weeks, and I have to pay Sadie’s daughter for watching the kids.” Charisma talked with her mouth full, making the words garbled. “She’s so nice, she practically refused to take the tips I made today.”

“Deborah is sweet. Not like her brothers.” What made her say that? Annie wiped harder on a cookie sheet. “I mean she likes to help. Not that her brothers don’t.”

“Whatever.” Charisma stole another cookie. “Guess who came into the restaurant this afternoon after you left.”

“I don’t know. Shall I warm up the brisket for you?” Annie pulled leftovers from the refrigerator. “There’s fried potatoes and green beans.”

“Sure, sure.” Charisma handed Gracie a cookie and snatched another one from the tray. “Sergeant Parker came in. I served him at the counter. I think he sat there because it was part of my station.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The hostess was going to seat him in Bertie’s section, but he asked for me.”

“Maybe he wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Yeah, he did. But he also wanted to tell me they have room for Logan at the prison after all. He’s being moved to Lansing on Monday.”

Her voice didn’t betray any particular emotion. Annie turned to
look at her. Charisma seemed very interested in the oatmeal-raisin cookie in her hand.

“Will you visit him before he goes?”

“Sergeant Parker says Logan asked him to tell me he wants to see me.”

“Are you going?”

“I don’t know. No.”

“Why not?”

She laid the half-eaten cookie on the table. “I can’t. I can’t face him. He’ll want me to promise to wait for him and I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Then you should tell him the truth.”

“I did that last time and he practically had a meltdown.”

“He’s going to jail for five years, Charisma, for something he did for you.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I wake up at night and think about it.” She shifted Luke David to her other arm. With a delicate finger, she traced the sleeping baby’s nose and chin. “But I didn’t tell him to rob you. I didn’t tell him to do anything. He could’ve worked. Like I’m doing now.”

Annie didn’t bother to point out that Charisma had one day under her belt as an employed waitress. She had a long way to go to prove she could support her children. A long way before she could live on her own with them. Far longer than Leah would like.

She set the plate of food in front of Charisma and sliced a hunk of bread for her. “Don’t judge him. He loves you.” Annie held out her arms. Charisma handed over the baby. “He loves his babies. That kind of love is a precious thing.”

“I know.” Charisma picked up a fork, then laid it down. “I wish I could feel it, but I can’t. He’ll get over it.”

Annie stared out the window over the wash tub. Charisma spoke like someone who had never really been in love. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been robbed of the chance to have those feelings by a father who lifted a hand in anger instead of offering it in love.
God, please heal her heart. Let her feel love as it was meant to be. Smooth the scars left by her father. She deserves love.

Everyone deserved love.

J
osiah adjusted the space between the two benches in the third and fourth rows. Mark had shoved them too close together. In a barn this big, there was no need to be stingy with the space. He straightened and surveyed his work. The men needed more room for their long legs and big bodies. No one liked to sit too close to the man next to him for a three-hour service. It was mighty uncomfortable trying to squeeze into a space more suited to a woman. Especially on a hot July morning. He wanted everything to be ready so he could take a quick trip out to the road to look for Miriam. He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her.

“Looks fine.” Luke slid his hat back so it rested high on his head. “Everything’s ready. Which is good. The bishop just arrived, and the deacons right behind him.”

“Is the food ready?”

“Jah.” Luke smiled. “Leah has been a whirlwind since before dawn. I don’t think there’s any room for the food people will bring.”

The Glicks and the Beaches sauntered through the open barn doors. The women were chattering like a flock of birds, and Luke hurried off to greet them. His brother felt the weight of responsibility more than Josiah did. He figured the point was the prayer service, not all the trappings. It was important to get it right, but it was more important to be
in worship. Of course, if things didn’t go smoothly, Luke would be the one to hear about it, not Josiah.

He dodged the now steady stream of people flowing into the barn and made it out to the corral. The field beyond it housed a dozen buggies and more were arriving. It almost felt like a celebration. Thankful for a slight breeze, he inhaled the warm, moist morning air. Miriam and her family should be here soon. Maybe they could get away for a walk by the creek after the service. He could tell her she didn’t have to worry about Sarah anymore. He was ready to be baptized. Ready to move on.

“Josiah, there you are.”

One hand up in a wave, Sarah picked her way across the field. She wore a long dress, apron, cape, and prayer kapp, the picture of a Plain woman. Except she wasn’t. Not even close. Josiah swallowed a groan. “What are you doing here? I told you to go home.”

“Don’t be like that.” She skirted the corral fence until they were face-to-face. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you at the grocery store that I met with Deacon Altman earlier in the week. He said I could sit in the back and observe. It’s important for me to see how you worship before any decisions are made.”

“You still plan to join the community?”