A Place of His Own (16 page)

“You look surprised, Josiah.” Uncle John came up beside him.

“I am.” He pushed his hat back on his head, surveying the scene in front of him. “I truly am.”

“You shouldn't be.” John clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You know our ways. When a person loses something in our community, the rest of us help out.”

“But I'm not part of your community.”

“That could change, you know. It's up to you. You're family, a part of ours, and a part of the Lord's.” He dropped his hand from Josiah's back. “Better get to work. Here,” he said, handing Josiah a hammer. “
Geh
and help Ben and Aaron. I don't think that beam is straight.”

The beam looked straight enough, but he eagerly joined the others, still incredulous that so many had turned out to help him. As the day progressed, even more men showed up. By the noon hour the women had arrived and were setting up tables of food on the Grabers' lawn. It seemed the entire community had put their own lives on hold for a day to help him build his barn. And while he knew this was the Amish way, their generosity humbled him, a generosity he doubted he could ever return.

“Beautiful day for a barn raising,
ya
?” Leah Lantz stood to Amanda's left and unwrapped a huge bowl of chicken salad. The faint scent of chicken, celery, and salad dressing wafted through the air.

“
Ya
,” said Rebecca Miller, on Amanda's other side. She placed a tray of thinly sliced ham, turkey, and roast beef on the table. “That chicken salad smells delicious, Leah. Did you make it?”

“That's the only thing she knows how to make,” Leah's sister Kathleen said from the other side of the table.

Leah smirked at her. “I'll have you know Aaron loves my chicken salad.”

“He'd better. He'll be eating it every day for the rest of his life.”

Leah just responded to the dig with a soft smile.

Kathleen left to help some of the other women inside, clearing Amanda's view of the men working on the barn. Her gaze zeroed in on Josiah, who was working near Ben and Aaron. Still holding the hammer, he pushed his hat back and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He had rolled his shirtsleeves up, exposing his tanned forearms.

“The barn is coming along quickly, isn't it?” Rebecca asked.

“It always does when everyone helps out,” Amanda replied. She tucked the ribbons of her white
kapp
into the front of her dress and waved her hand in front of her heated face. The day had turned sultry, but the heat didn't impede the men's progress.

“Don't get me wrong,” Leah said, moving closer to the other two women. “I'm not glad Josiah's barn burned down, but I love a
gut
barn raising.”

“Me too,” Rebecca echoed. “It's
wunderbaar
to see everyone come together to help someone in need.”

Amanda nodded, glad Josiah had accepted the community's help without an argument. Maybe this outpouring would help him see God's hand in his life. She had prayed almost continually for that to happen after leaving him yesterday morning. She knew she couldn't convince him herself, that her words about God's faithfulness had passed right through him with no effect. She had to let Josiah go and let God take over. It hadn't been easy, but when she woke up this morning, she felt the Lord lift that burden from her.

She surveyed her yard and Josiah's, taking in everyone who had shown up for the barn raising. The turnout was nothing short of amazing, considering it was a last-minute event. Yet so many men and women had taken part of or even the whole day off to come and help. Many children were there, too, running around the Grabers' backyard and playing on the swing set. She saw Sarah Fisher chasing after her toddler. She called out for her father, who was busy sawing a long section of wood into pieces. She also saw Miriam Fisher talking to her sister, Lydia King. Their husbands, Seth and Daniel, had spent the morning working alongside Josiah, Aaron, and Ben.

“Here come the men,” Rebecca said a few moments later. “They look
hungerich
too!”

“Aaron's always
hungerich
.” Leah stuck a spoon in the chicken salad.

They lined up at the end of the table, and the women served them buffet style. When Ben reached them, Amanda noticed the tender look he gave Rebecca, and how she blushed in response. Aaron stood right behind him, and he lingered longer than he should have in front of Leah and her chicken salad.

“Hurry up, Aaron,” Peter called from farther down the line. “The rest of us need to eat too.”

Aaron winked at Leah and moved on.

In between dishing out spoonfuls of colorful carrot salad, Amanda glanced around for Josiah but didn't see him in line. Then she caught a glimpse of him still working on the frame of the barn. Her father walked over to him, carrying a plate of food and a drink. The men spoke for a few minutes, then Josiah dropped his hammer and headed for the food line.

Since he was the last in line, some of the other women had already stopped serving and gone inside to help with the cleanup. Only Rebecca and Leah had stayed, and when Josiah approached them, they quietly disappeared.

Josiah thrust out his plate, which held two fresh yeast rolls and a large pat of butter. Amanda scooped some of Leah's chicken salad onto the plate, then a generous helping of carrot salad.

“
Danki
,” he said, picking up a plastic fork and piling on slices of ham. He glanced at her, his face red and streaked with dirt from working. “Are you to thank for all of this?”

“
Nee
,” she said. “Your
Onkel
John organized everything. I happened to mention it to him yesterday.”

“Because you just
happened
to be over there.”

She merely smiled.

“Is there enough for seconds?” Seth Fisher approached the table, flashing a charming grin.

“For you, always.” Amanda served Seth, who had a reputation for being a bottomless pit when it came to food. She then turned to talk to Josiah again, only to find he had disappeared.

Chapter Fourteen

JOSIAH WALKED THROUGH THE FRAMED-IN POLE BARN, breathing in the scent of fresh oak. Everyone had left a little over an hour ago, making sure they got home before dark so they could do their own chores and take care of their families. Plenty of work lay ahead, but the men had managed to frame the barn and put up the supports for the roof. He could do the rest of the job himself.

As he examined their handiwork, he marveled at the gift they'd given him. Before his uncle left, Josiah tried to find out how much the materials had cost so he could pay everyone back. His uncle refused to say, reminding him that the materials and labor were donated. He didn't owe anyone a dime.

He paced off the length of the barn, stopping at the back corner. The frame of the barn extended at least four feet on all sides beyond its original size. Another gift.

As he sank to his knees, it took a moment for him to realize he'd knelt down in the exact same spot where his father had beaten him with the horse whip shortly after his mother had died. He ran his hand on the dirt ground in front of him, then looked at his palm. Brown dirt mixed with black ash and sawdust. Not a trace of the short stool his
daed
made him sit on before applying the punishment. Not a sign of the horse whip anywhere. Both had burned up in the fire.

Josiah closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. The heaviness that had weighed on his heart and soul for so many years slowly drained away. He could sense God's presence now, in the midst of the ashes of his past. Now he knew why he had returned to Paradise. Not to fix up an old house and sell it so he could keep running away from the relentless memories. God had brought him back here to face those memories—and let them go.

I'm ready, Lord. Please take this pain from me . . .

He didn't know how long he prayed, but when he opened his eyes, it was nearly dark. His father's image formed in his mind, the man's face contorted with anger as it usually had been during the last years of his life. But instead of the usual resentment and guilt, Josiah experienced peace. “I forgive you,
Daed
,” he whispered into the darkness. He not only said the words, he felt them. “I forgive you.”

Although she was tired from helping with the barn raising the day before, Amanda had difficulty sleeping that night. Right before sundown she had gone outside to check on Lucy, who had given birth to four kittens earlier that morning in the barn. On the way she had spotted Josiah kneeling inside the barn, and she had fought the urge to check on him. But a niggling inside her soul held her back. She couldn't keep rushing to his side all the time, attempting to fix something she wasn't equipped to fix. She had to let him go, and if that
meant his leaving her for Ohio, then she'd have to deal with it.

Yet as she tossed and turned, fighting the tears and praying to the Lord, she knew letting Josiah go would be the hardest thing she'd ever have to do.

She rose even earlier than usual, well before sunup. Quickly she donned a long-sleeved light gray dress, brushed her hair and pinned it up, then secured her
kapp
to her head. Picking up her flashlight off the nightstand, she quietly slipped out of the house to the backyard. While she wanted to check on Lucy and her adorable kittens again, she didn't dare go in the barn and disturb the animals. Instead, she walked to the swing set and sat down on a swing.

Amanda closed her eyes. A few birds were twittering in the surrounding trees, getting ready to start their day. The scent of smoke that had been in the air yesterday had disappeared completely, and she breathed in the sweet scent of grass. The chilly morning didn't bother her. She started to hum a hymn as she gently swung back and forth. When she finished the song, she opened her eyes, startled to see Josiah there. She hadn't heard him approach.

“Don't stop on my account,” he said.

Dawn had started to break, but she couldn't make out his features clearly. He wore a coat over his white T-shirt and gray pants, but he'd left his hat at home. How long had he been standing there listening to her?

“I was finished anyway.” She dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt and pushed the swing back. “You're up early.”

“Had trouble sleeping.”

“Me too.”

Josiah stood next to her. “You mind?” he asked, pointing to the empty swing.

“
Nee
.” What was he up to? She'd become used to him fleeing from her or outright avoiding her, not seeking her out.

He sat down on the swing, which hung lower than the other two so the smaller children could reach it. His knees came halfway to his chin, but he didn't seem to care.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but instead of the silence feeling awkward between them, it felt natural. Like it had been when they were kids. From their vantage in Amanda's yard, they had a perfect view of the sunrise. Amanda sighed.

“Something wrong?”

“
Nee,
” she said, twisting in the swing so she could see him. “God's gifted us with another
brechdich
morning
.
”

Josiah looked at her and smiled. Beams of new sunlight lit up his face.

Amanda stared at him for a moment, content to take him in. Then she realized it wasn't just the sun that made him shine. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Josiah?”

His grin widened. “I get it now, Mandy. You were right. All that time I thought God had left me. Turns out I ran away from Him. I lived in fear of becoming like my father, and I tried to steer clear of everyone because of that. But it didn't matter. Running away, blaming God, being afraid . . . I had already
become
my father. Maybe I wasn't as openly cruel, but I had turned bitter inside. But God and
mei
. . . we had a long talk yesterday. I know I don't have to live like that anymore. I finally forgave my father and let the past
geh
.”

Happiness surged through her. “Oh, Josiah! I'm so happy for you!”

“I don't think I would have figured it out on my own. Not without your help.” He took her hand. “I'm sorry, Mandy,” he said softly. “I'm sorry for everything.”

She glanced down at their hands as they hung suspended between the two swings. Their fingers entwined together, the intimate clasp sending a pleasant wave of emotion through her body. “It's all right, Josiah. I understand why.”

“
Nee
, it's not all right. You've never been anything but honest with me, and I should have told you the truth a long time ago. Maybe if I had said something, everything would have been different.”

“And maybe it would have stayed the same. You can't spend your life second-guessing the past.”

“I know. I'd rather talk about the future.”

“What about the future?”

“There's a Realtor coming here later on today. I talked to him a few days ago. He seemed really excited I was fixing up the place, but he thought it would go for a
gut
price even without the renovations. Of course, I'll have to finish the barn, but I only have to do minor repairs on the house.”

“I see.” She removed her hand from his grasp and stared at her lap, fighting the lump forming in her throat.

“He even quoted me a number. It's a lot of money, plenty enough for me to get started in Ohio.”

“That's . . . great.” So she'd been wrong about his feelings for her after all. So very, very wrong. Pain seared her heart as she comprehended what he'd just said. He really was leaving. It wouldn't take long to complete the barn and address the minor problems in the house. A week, maybe two at the most, then he'd be gone.

Wrapping her arms around her body, she wished she could disappear. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but she could barely contain her heartache. She never should have told him she loved him—she never should have let herself fall in love with him. And she'd been wrong about God, too, at least about His setting Josiah apart for her. Somehow she'd find the strength to mend her heart, but right now she couldn't even look at him. If she did, she'd burst into tears.