Christmas Gift for Rose (9780310336822) (7 page)

Rose stayed for another hour, helping Lucy by listening to the younger ones read, but when it was time for Rose to head home, it felt as if all her energy had been drained from her. Her arms felt like thick, heavy logs as she pushed them through her coat sleeves.

As she’d read about Heidi’s longing for the world in the mountains—beyond the white walls of Clara’s fine house—Rose had understood that feeling, of missing what had been there for so long. It was homesickness. Even when her mind didn’t remember, her heart knew.

Heidi lived within a luxurious home and had more fine things than she could imagine. Heidi had a good friend in Clara. Clara’s family had taken her in as their own. And still she ached for what was lost.

And Rose’s losses seemed to be multiplying.

She’d been so hard on Jonathan, but had she really taken the time to think about what she was giving up? She’d been so focused on how the community felt, but had she really allowed herself to think how she felt about Jonathan … and how he would feel when she turned her back?

Why hadn’t she been more open—to Jonathan and to God?

Rose slipped on her mittens, preparing to leave, thinking of Grandmother’s words.
“God knows better. He knows the right time to answer your prayers.”
It made sense that perhaps the time wasn’t right for her and Jonathan, but what couldn’t
be right about living with one’s birth family? Had her mom prayed for a different way? She hoped so. Not that the prayer was answered.

Was it true that someday she’d thank God for those unanswered prayers too?

B
UNDLED UP
, R
OSE BID THE CHILDREN GOOD-BYE AND
prepared for the mile-long walk home. The cold wind—which carried tiny ice crystals from a soft flurry of snow—hit her cheeks as she walked outside. There, sitting in front of the school, was a wagon. Rose stopped short. The back was filled with long planks of lumber, and Jonathan was perched on the front bench.

“Need a ride?” he called.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. Part of her was happy to see him. But part of her feared again growing close to Jonathan. Feared having to tell him her truth. Yet, as she gazed at his bright eyes and wide smile, Rose couldn’t help smiling back. “How did you know? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t you always read to the children on Fridays?”

“Ja.”
Rose didn’t ask how he knew that.

“Then would you like a ride?”

She nodded and moved down the stairs, hurrying across the schoolyard with quickened steps. “But it’s only a mile.”

“A mile you don’t have to walk now.” He reached a hand down toward her as she lifted her foot to climb aboard.

Rose hoisted herself up into the wagon, and Jonathan scooted over. “Here … I’ll even let you have my warm spot.”

She sat without argument, the words of Heidi’s grandmother coming to her once again. Perhaps she did understand a bit more about them than she’d thought. By wishing she’d stayed with her birth family, she was negating all she’d experienced and felt with those she’d grown up with. She would have missed out on Dat, Mem, and her siblings. She wouldn’t be sitting here now, with Jonathan.

“Hey-ya,” Jonathan called to his horse. The wagon wheels squeaked on the snow, accompanied by the sounds of rocks being crunched as they left the schoolyard.

They shared small talk. He discussed his work. “I’d much rather be working on the farm, but delivering lumber in the winter helps Dat and Mem.”

She talked about reading to the children and about Heidi’s homesickness. “Sometimes you don’t realize what you have until you lose it—not that losing it was Heidi’s choice,” she rattled on as if Jonathan understood what she was talking about.

“Would
you
ever consider leaving the area, Rose?” Jonathan asked.

“Not before.”

“Before?” The way he said it, it was obvious he thought she meant before he left for the war. Jonathan had no idea she meant before three days ago.

Rose shrugged. “Why are you asking?”

“The other day, before we were interrupted, you said you
wanted to talk to me. You mentioned you’d thought about leaving.”

“I’ve thought about it, but not seriously.” How could she tell him the truth? “Don’t most people think about it?”

“Not most people, Rose. Most people are content to walk in the way of their ancestors. To choose the Amish life and believe it’s the only …
right
… way.” The way he dragged out the last few words, it was as if he was asking her a question. Was that what she believed too?

They neared her house, but instead of slowing the horse continued on. Rose forced a chuckle to ease the tension between them. “Did you forget something?”

“I thought we’d have some lunch in town … if you don’t mind.” Jonathan lowered his head slightly. She studied the tufts of dark hair that covered the tops of his ears. Her heartbeat jumped into her throat.

To sit across from him. To look into his eyes. She wondered how long she’d be able to keep her secret. Yet even as she thought of telling him her throat cinched.

“Vell …” She tried to come up with a good excuse, but there was none. Mem was at a quilting circle, her siblings were at school, and there was nothing—no one—who needed her.

“If you’d rather not, I understand. “He pointed behind his shoulder. “I can turn around. I understand what people are saying about me—about my choice. I know that I’ve lost the approval of many in our community. I’ve lost your approval.” He sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I’ve lost yer heart too.”

“There is so much more you don’t understand, Jonathan.
It’s not easy to explain how I’m feeling … what I’m thinking. Some days I can’t figure it out myself.”

The snow-covered fields of Holmes County rose and fell, stretching out on either side of the road. Here or there an oblique lump or mound marred the landscape. Rose knew if she got out and brushed the snow off she’d find familiar tree stumps or piles of fencing. In a way, that’s how her emotions felt—she knew more was beneath, but it took too much effort to brush away the protective layer she’d built around her heart.

“Will you
try
to tell me, Rose?”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I should have taken more time to listen to you when you returned. I should have read your letters with an open heart, instead of being so worried about what the bishop thought, what others thought.”

He looked over at her. His eyes widened slightly as she studied his face. “Do you mean that?”

“Ja,”
she said, realizing she did mean it.

“I’m ready to listen when you tell me, Rose.” He leaned forward slightly and his lips parted. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her.

Rose pulled her head back, knowing he wouldn’t want to do that. Not if he knew.

The disappointment was clear on Jonathan’s face.

“Do you mind if I drop this lumber off first?”

“
Ne
, don’t mind. Not at all.”

The buggy stopped at Hummel’s Grocery. The building was on Main Street, and large glass windows displayed full
shelves. It seemed strange being able to see inside the store. During the war, the windows had been covered with war bond posters. Rose believed Mr. Hummel was patriotic, but she also guessed that the posters had hidden the limited supply of items on the store shelves.

“Why don’t you head inside and keep warm? I’m going to take this lumber ‘round back. They need it in the back storeroom to build some new shelves.”

“
Ja
, of course.”

Inside the glass front door, warm air and the scent of baking bread greeted her. One of the clerks was checking out a customer at the front counter. He turned in her direction.

“Why, hello there.” His fingers paused from entering prices into the register before he went back to checking out the customer. But instead of talking to the older
Englisch
woman at the counter, he glanced again at Rose. “I’ve seen you in here before, with your mem. She seems like a nice lady.”

He didn’t look familiar, but obviously he knew her, so she had to have met him before. He hadn’t lived long in Berlin, though; she was certain of that. “
Ja
, she is. I—I am blessed to have my family.”

He nodded and went back to punching the keys as vigorously as before.

She glanced around, trying to figure out how to spend her time. She didn’t have a shopping list and not a penny with her. She hadn’t planned on going anywhere but the school. Yet she walked down the canned goods aisle with purpose.

It was nice to see the shelves full again. Rationing during
the war had been hard for many. More than once they’d had neighbors stop by to ask her parents if they had any extra eggs or meat to sell. Her parents always seemed to find something to offer, even if it meant they ate vegetable soup for dinner.

She moved to the far corner of the store where the meat counter was, pretending that the sign that read the prices of the meat was as interesting as her story from
Heidi.

“Pot Roast of Beef, 29 cents a pound. Fresh ground hamburger, 28 cents a pound. Breakfast sausages, small link, 44 cents,” she said to no one in particular.

The butcher approached from the back room wearing a red-and-white-striped shirt, a white apron that looked as if it had just been pulled off the clothes line, and a straw hat. He was an imposing man in girth and stature, but he wore a nice smile. “Can I help you, miss?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Milligan,” she said. “I’m just looking today … and waiting for a friend.”

“Ah, yes. Jonathan is unloading the wood for the new shelves in back. We’re blessed to have run out of room for stock. We have quite the construction project going on back there.”

“I think everyone feels blessed.” Rose offered a smile. “It’s
gut
to have all our boys coming home.”

“I imagine especially that one.” Mr. Milligan pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the back supply room. “Don’t think the people in the community don’t understand the sacrifice. And as someone who had a son come home in one piece, I thank Jonathan every time I see him.”

Rose nodded but didn’t know how to respond. Just as she was figuring out what to say, she heard the shuffling of footsteps behind her. She turned to see the cashier approaching. He leaned on a cane and walked with a limp.

Rose’s heart fell, and she understood now why she didn’t remember seeing him around before. He was a returning soldier who’d somehow landed in Berlin.

The cashier used his cane to point to his left kneecap. “It was a bullet. And the Jap was either a great shot and just wanted to slow me down, or he missed by a long shot when aiming for my heart.”

Rose offered a sympathetic smile. “Iwo Jima?”

The man shook his head. “No, I missed that one, but Saipan was no tea party.” He limped over to the cold case next to the meat counter and pulled out two Coca-Colas. Gripping them both in his left hand, he reached into his pocket with his right hand and pulled out a bottle opener. He popped both lids, dropped the bottle opener back into his apron pocket, and offered her a drink.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” She held up her palm, refusing his offer.

“Have you ever had a cola before?” The light-haired man tilted his head to the side and studied her in a way that made her want to escape out into the cold.

“
Ne.
I mean, no.” She shook her head vigorously. “But—” What excuse did she have? Any excuse. She lightly touched the top of her white head covering.

“Of course!” The man set one of the colas on the meat
counter and extended his hand to her. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Curtis. Curtis Williams.” His gaze drifted up to the head covering she wore from morning to night.

“Nice to meet you, Curtis.” She looked back to the butcher, hoping to pull him into the conversation, but he’d slipped into the back room.

Not knowing what else to do, Rose extended her hand and shook Curtis’s, and then forced a smile as she accepted the cola.

“Go ahead. Take a sip. It’s on me.”

Rose lifted the bottle to her lips and opened her mouth.

Curtis laughed. “You don’t pour it into your mouth. You press it to your lips, like this.” Curtis turned his head and showed her how. Rose shrugged and then attempted it.

The liquid was so cold that it stung her teeth. There was a bubbly feeling to it and the sweetness caused her to wince and blink her eyes rapidly. She pulled the bottle away from her mouth and the liquid splashed onto her chin. Laughter burst from Curtis, and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Well,” he sputtered between breaths. “Do you like it?”

Rose shrugged again. “Not really … although I’m sorry if that offends you.”

“Offends me? No.” He took the bottle from her and placed it on top of the glass meat counter. “There are few things in this life that offend me. In fact—”

Footsteps sounded from behind, and Rose turned, expecting to see a customer approaching the meat counter. Instead,
Jonathan neared. His eyes were narrowed, but rather than look at her, Jonathan’s eyes were fixed on Curtis. Jonathan paused at Rose’s side and placed a protective hand on the small of her back. She trembled at his touch. It was not the Amish way. Jonathan’s movement was bold. It reminded her that he’d seen the world, and maybe he’d picked up a few of their ways.

Jonathan fixed his gaze on hers. “Are you ready?”

Heat rose to her cheeks at his nearness.

“Ja.”
She jutted out her chin.

Jonathan didn’t withdraw his touch.

She took two steps toward the door and paused next to Curtis. “Thank you again for the cola.” She thought about taking it home for her younger brother and younger sisters to try, but from the tense look on Jonathan’s face she guessed that wouldn’t be a good idea.

He was jealous! In a strange way it made her happy to see that.

Rose felt like she walked on a puff of air the rest of the way to the buggy.

J
ONATHAN WAS QUIET AS HE HELPED HER INTO THE
wagon and silent as they drove a few more blocks.

He parked at Boyd and Wurthmann Restaurant and tied up the horse. It was a small, white building with a sign that read “Home-Style Cooking.” She’d only ever eaten out a few times in her life and she had to wonder what other types of cooking there were. As they entered the restaurant, she noted
Englisch
men eating lunch at back tables and Amishmen lined up along the long counter on barstools. A group of young people also sat at the green counter studying the day’s pies.

They sat, and when a waitress came by they both ordered the chicken special. Rose still wasn’t interested in eating, but she was starting to feel lightheaded. She handed the menu to the waitress and pressed her fingertips to her temples.

“Are you feeling all right, Rose?”

“A little lightheaded, that’s all.”

“Are you coming down with something?”

Rose shrugged. “Just have a lot on my mind, and I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Jonathan sighed. “All this has been
hard on you, harder than I thought. He came by to talk to you, didn’t he?”

Rose fiddled with the edge of the paper napkin. “Who?”

“Wallace Yoder.”

“The bishop?
Ja
, he talked to me. He’s been to our house several times. First after he heard you joined the military. And then when he discovered you were overseas.”

“But not recently?”

“No, why?”

“He came by to talk to me last week. I assumed he took the time to get around to you too. He wanted to know what I’d been doing all that time serving in the military. I told him I worked in the field hospital, and I didn’t shoot one bullet the whole time I was overseas, but it wasn’t a good enough answer. He said there were more hours in a day than could be filled with tending to people. He wanted to know whom I spent time with. What I had done. He waited for me to list my sins, and he was disappointed that I wouldn’t.”

“He’s jest considering your soul, Jonathan. He wanted to ensure you’ll stay on the right path. He’s our bishop—our spiritual leader.”

“It’s more than that, Rose, and you know it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Jonathan lowered his head. “He believes me to be a bad influence in the community. I’ve experienced the world. He’d be perfectly happy if I left. We can’t have anything tainting his perfect community, can we?”

“He’ll change his mind about you, Jonathan. Jest give him time yet.”

“I’d just assumed he’d talked to you too—recently. Why else would you think about leaving? I thought maybe he’d be an influence to keep you away from me, just like before.” Jonathan reached forward, taking her hand in his. “I know what the bishop thought I should do, even before I left, but I couldn’t do it. How could I sit in prison and know that men are dying when I could be helping?”

Rose leaned closer in, determined not to say anything that would hinder his outpouring.

“When the war first started, my brothers helped on the farm, and I took produce to town. I remember the day when one of the grocers refused to buy from me.
‘Do you think it’s fair you bring me potatoes, and I lost two boys … two of my boys?’
he said. I used to play with his sons when I went to the market with Dat. And I thought, how could I go to jail if I could be used to help someone else’s son?” His chin quivered, bringing tears to her eyes.

“I’m sorry that I focused on the rejection I received for your choice. I should have just ignored their comments. I should have heeded no mind to their words. But I’m proud of you, Jonathan. I was here. I heard how people talked, and even then I was proud.”

“You never told me that.”

“I’m telling you now.”

Jonathan stroked the top of her hand with his fingertips. His face glowed with those words as if she’d just given him a special gift.

“I’m glad you told me that, Rose. I’ve been wondering how you felt about me. You see, in my mind, in my heart,
nothing has changed between us, even though you tried to push me away. If anything, my feelings for you are stronger than ever.”

His eyes studied hers, and he waited for a response. Heat rose to her cheeks and she wondered if she dared confess her feelings—to spill her heart—when there were so many obstacles that would make their being together impossible.

“Are you going to answer me, Rose?”

She swallowed down her emotion. “Well …” She thought of the tears in Mem’s eyes as she spilled the truth and wondered if Jonathan would feel the same shock.

“Do you care at all?” he asked. “Do you see any hope for our future? Can you at least answer that?”

She nodded once. “
Ja
, I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have invited you to stay for yesterday’s meal. You ought to know that.”

Jonathan blew out a slow breath. He wanted her to confirm that she hadn’t closed the door to thoughts of them getting married, but the more they sat, the more Rose knew she needed to tell Jonathan the whole truth. And she guessed when she did his smile would disappear.

“You’ll get their favor back, you’ll see,” she continued. “Everyone will see your dedication. It’s not like you left the Amish, left who you were born to be.” The last phrase rung in her ears.

“You don’t understand. Other young men from our community went to prison instead. Wallace believes that by caring for the injured soldiers I was supporting the war.”

“That’s foolish.”

“He thinks I’m going to taint the Amish—”

“Then we don’t have to worry.” Rose’s voice trembled.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe this isn’t the community you need to be in. Maybe there is no right community for either of us now.”

“Either of us? Rose, you have done nothing to cause anyone concern. You’re the most dedicated woman I know. With you—”

The waitress approached, interrupting his words. They both waited for her to put down two steaming cups of coffee before they resumed their conversation. Jonathan took a sip of his, but Rose’s stomach turned just thinking of putting something to her lips.
He’s going to see me differently when he knows.

The words stuck to the roof of her mouth like Mem’s peanut butter. She patted her
kapp.
“It seems the bishop doesn’t want to accept you. And once they discover the truth, well, about me … I’m sure they will turn their back on me too.”

Jonathan’s jaw dropped. He roughly placed his mug down on the table and a small amount of liquid sloshed over the side.

“You aren’t secretly seeing an
Englisch
man, are you?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “How could I be so stupid? The way that cashier was looking at you—”

“No!” The word shot from her lips. “I can’t believe you would think that, say that. That’s the first time I’ve seen that man. Well, at least I think it is. I would never do such a thing.” Rose straightened her spine.

“Then what is it, Rose? I can see something—pain, shame—all over your face.”

Fear gripped Rose’s heart, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer. He might reject her, but at least she wouldn’t have to carry this burden alone.

“Vell, Jonathan, if you think the bishop has a problem with you … you just wait and see what he does with me. When he … when he discovers I’m not Amish.”

It was hard saying the words, but with them came a relief she hadn’t expected. Holding the truth in had taken more from her than she’d thought.

Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. I know you. I’ve known your family for as long as I could remember. Of course you are Amish.”

“It’s my adopted family.” Her words were no more than a whisper.

He gazed at her a moment, then chuckled and shook his head. “You’re joking.” When she didn’t respond, he studied her face, his expression slowly dimming. “You’re … you’re not joking?”

Rose shook her head. “I—I jest found out.” She expected to cry, but her soul was as frozen as the world outside. Maybe it was her way of protecting her heart. To feel numb was easier than to feel the pain of his rejection.

“Rose … Rose …” The words were like a gentle caress to her ear. “I don’t know what to say. Do you trust me … to tell me the whole story?”

Rose placed her hand over her stomach. “
Ja
, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to eat.”

Jonathan reached forward and took her hand, squeezing it with concern. “You have to try to eat, Rose. You’re looking pale … and thin. Even my sister mentioned how thin you’ve become.”

When their plates of food were brought to them, Rose did her best to take a few bites, but she mostly just pushed everything around on her plate. Even Jonathan wasn’t too successful at eating much of his lunch.

When Rose mustered up enough courage, she began. “I’ve had nightmares as long as I could remember.” It was the only way she knew to start. She told him about the dreams. She told him about how Mem would come to her and would pray with her. She told Jonathan about the uneasiness she felt every winter—how she felt like she needed to do something, needed to find something. And then she told him the true story of her family.

“Mem would have most likely kept the secret forever if it hadn’t been for the nightmares. And then there were good dreams too. Happy dreams that I’m starting to realize are memories.”

“I never would have thought such a thing. You seem to fit in so well. They are your family. You are a part of them.”

“That’s the way I’ve always felt, but it makes me wonder … What would it be like if I found my real parents, my real siblings? Would I discover a part of myself that I didn’t realize?”

Jonathan placed his fork on his plate and wiped the corners of his lips with a napkin. “So, are you going to find them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your family. Are you going to find them, Rose?”

Her brows furrowed. “Why … that’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible. We can ask around. I’m sure there are people in Charm who remember your parents, your siblings. Maybe they know something about yer mem and dat’s whereabouts.”

“But what if no one knows anything? It seems like a lot of work just to be disappointed.”

“Maybe you can pray—”

“Just so I can be disappointed with God too? Just to get my hopes up only to have them dashed to the ground?” She pressed her lips together and lowered her voice. “They left me, Jonathan. If they wanted me, they could have figured out a way. It’s not as if Mem and Dat have gone very far. It’s not as if I was the one who moved to California.” The bitterness bubbling up from inside gave Rose a bad taste in her mouth. She pushed her plate away as she realized she hadn’t allowed herself to feel anger toward her parents for their decision. She’d held those feelings back, but now—seeing the confusion and compassion in Jonathan’s gaze—they refused to be dammed up any longer.

“But you have to find them, Rose.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“
Ja
, you do. Don’t you understand? You’re never going to find peace or allow yerself to be part of a family …” Jonathan’s voice trailed off. “It jest seems like a good idea to come to peace with your past before you plan your future, does it not?”

An unexpected tear moved from the corner of her eye and slid alongside her nose. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“Say what?”

“Find an excuse. Say something that would push a wedge between us. Yer too good of a man to say hurtful words that would break my heart, but if you really do want to stay in this community—to regain your approval—the only way you’ll be able to do that is without me. After all, you already have one strike against you, Jonathan. You don’t need to add another.”

“If you think being adopted by the Yoders makes you any less Amish, why that’s foolish, and anyone who knows you would say the same. I wasn’t telling you to make peace with your past just so I can walk away. Just the opposite. You’re making too much of what I said. I can help—”

Rose lifted her hand, palm out, blocking his words.

“Don’t. Please don’t. Can we just finish eating and pretend I didn’t tell you the truth? Can we talk about the weather and the price of pot roast?” The pain in her chest grew. “And then can you take me home?”

“If that’s how it’s going to be.” His tone was one of sadness, tinged with anger.

“Ja.”
Rose nodded her head. “I need to think things through, Jonathan. Really think things through, and I don’t need you around pulling at my heart and complicating things.”

His eyes grew sad at her words, but even though she wished she could take them back, she didn’t. Her life was hard enough without wondering about his place in it. And
as much as she’d been excited to see him yesterday, and as much as she’d longed to have someone to talk to, releasing the truth hadn’t provided what she’d hoped. No one could understand, not really.

They ate what they could of their lunch and then took a mostly silent ride home. Was the reality of who she was—what she was—finally sinking in? She’d never heard of anyone not born Amish staying and being baptized Amish. That one woman had tried and proved this to be true. The Amish heritage was one you were born into. That was that.

“I’d like you to pray about finding your family,” he said as they passed the Ault place.

“I might pray …” She knew she would. Not that she ever would try to find them, but maybe she could come to a place of acceptance. “But even if I find them, what will that do? It won’t change anything.”

“You’re right, Rose. Seems to me that even if you find them, you’ll never really find yourself. They are only a small part of who you are. The Yoders are a part, too, but not completely. But maybe if you look to God, seek Him, then you’ll find what your heart wants most of all. And maybe, when you understand His heart, you’ll understand yourself a bit better too.”

“Are you trying to convince me?”

“I’m trying my best.”

Jonathan parked the buggy in front of her house. They sat there for a moment. Neither moved. It was as if they both wondered what to say, what to do.

The way he looked at her. Well, it was the same look he’d given her before he accepted a ride to the train station. A look that said he wasn’t going to see her for a while and he wanted to remember her face.