Authors: Kelly Irvin
Her upbringing kicked in. Of course she would go to Shawn. He couldn’t be expected
to get his wheelchair out of the back of the Jeep, get himself in it, and then get
up the four steps to the porch. She swung her crutches forward and took the steps
with ease of practice. “Is something wrong?”
“He said he needed to talk to you.” The man, whose white teeth shown in the dusk,
offered a small, sharp salute. “I’m Rick, an Army buddy visiting from St. Louis. I’m
afraid he’s overindulged a little. Celebrating my visit, I guess.”
“I’m Bethel.”
“I know. You look just like he said you would. He’s talked about nothing else all
evening.”
“The crutches give me away. I’m sure he mentioned those.”
“Actually, he said you were beautiful.”
Blood rushed to her face. She edged back toward the steps.
“I’m sorry. Don’t go.” Rick held up his hand. “He always said you were very modest.
He just needs to talk to you for a second, and then I think I can convince him to
go home and go to bed.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Shawn’s words slurred and then trailed
off. “Please.”
Rick cocked his shaved head toward the passenger seat, his expression begging her
to understand.
Luke would take away her privilege of the remaining therapy session if he found out.
Leah would be mortified at her sister’s behavior. Talking to an Englischer after dark
in front of the house while the rest of the family slept.
What would Jesus want her to do? It was a question her mudder often asked when Bethel
came to her with a problem. Remember your joy?
Jesus first. Others second. You third
. How many times had she heard those words repeated? Never in a situation where one
meant to flaunt a rule or an edict from the bishop.
Shawn McCormack needed a friend and she could be that friend. Like the Good Samaritan
and the man on the side of the road. Others walked on by, but the Samaritan stopped.
Swallowing hard against the bitter taste in the back of her throat, she managed to
work her way around the jeep. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate. Her muscles shook
and a spasm squeezed her back. “Shawn, what are you doing here? What do you need?”
He sucked on a cigarette and then let his hand rest on the open window. Smoke billowed
around her, the smell making her stomach heave. His bloodshot eyes gazed out at her.
“There you are.”
“Here I am. What do you need?”
“You. I need you.”
“Shawn, don’t—”
“Why didn’t you come to therapy?”
“I had to stay here.”
“Because of me.”
“Because I exercised poor judgment.”
He straightened and pushed open the door as if to get out. “You mean because of me.
They punished you because of me. Who? Tell me who and I’ll go talk to him. I’ll tell
him it isn’t your fault. I’ll confess.”
“Don’t get out.” She tried to push against the door, but he had all the muscles brought
on by working the part of his body that still responded to his commands. His biceps
bulged under his plaid shirt with its shiny snap buttons. The door didn’t shut. “You
can’t get out.”
“Tell me who I can talk to. How can I make it better?”
“You can’t. You make it worse by being here.”
“I love you, Bethel.”
Rick stirred in the driver’s seat. He cleared his throat. “Buddy, we should go.”
“Shut up, Rick. You’re only here because I can’t drive yet.” He wiped his face with
his sleeve. “I’ll be driving one of these days and I’ll come for you, Bethel. I promise
I will.”
Bethel stopped pushing. She swayed on her crutches. For so long she’d wanted to hear
those words. Three simple words that would change the course of her entire life. Now
here they were, spoken by a man with whom she had one thing in common. The desire
to overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. They’d been thrown together in a
place where neither had a point of reference. Even though they had never touched,
she felt as if they had somehow become entwined.
“I can’t.”
Rich cleared his throat. It was bad enough she was having this conversation at all,
let alone in front of a strange man. He turned off the car engine. Pocketing the key,
he shoved open his door. “I’ll take a little walk. Whistle when you’re ready to go.”
He nodded at Bethel. “Sorry about this.”
Grasping at those few seconds to search for a response that wouldn’t hurt Shawn, she
waited until Rick had walked a good ways toward the corral before she spoke. “You’ve
been drinking, haven’t you?”
“I took a pain pill.” He took another drag on the cigarette and then flipped the butt
out into the dirt road. He slapped his hand against the car door, his tone belligerent.
“Don’t rag on me about it. Rick already did that.”
“Good for him. You took a pain pill and that makes you act like this?”
“And washed it down with a beer. It’s my own prescription for pain. Works wonders.”
She bit her lip, searching for a way to ease his pain that didn’t cause her further
trouble. “Now you should go home and sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“I had to tell you to come back to therapy. I’ll stay away if that’s what it takes.
I don’t want to stand”—he laughed, a short bitter bark that sounded more like a cough—“I
don’t want to get in the way of you walking without those crutches.”
“We can both go to therapy.” She longed to touch the fingers curled around the lowered
window. To give him comfort, nothing more. Her heart hurt for his pain as if it were
her own. “Just not together. And no pop. No candy. No gifts.”
“But I love you.”
“You don’t even know me. You like the idea of someone from another world, someone
who doesn’t know how you used to be.”
“You don’t pity me, do you?”
“I didn’t until right now.”
“You pity me now?”
“Because you used drugs and alcohol to give you the courage to come here.” She kept
her voice soft, hoping to take the hard edges from her words. “That’s not true courage.
What happened to your faith in God? Why don’t you turn to Him for courage?”
“How can you say that? He let this happen.” Shawn’s voice broke. He breathed noisily.
“I use drugs and alcohol to numb the pain of knowing God let this happen.”
“God didn’t let it happen. Men make those wars. Not God. The drugs and alcohol do
nothing to numb your pain. Ask God. He will help you.”
“I have feelings for you.”
“Mostly, you feel pain.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.” She whispered the word. Having always been among family and friends her entire
life, she rarely had the chance to share her faith. Maybe this was why God had put
her in this uncomfortable, awkward place. “But I rely on God to ease it. You said
God brought you back alive when others didn’t make it. Why do you think He brought
you home?”
“To meet you.”
“No, His plan for you doesn’t include me.” Bethel grappled with the words. How could
she know what God’s plan was for Shawn? She didn’t know what it was for herself. God
would reveal His plan in His time. She had only to cling to that thought. “His plan
for me doesn’t include a man not of my community.”
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” His grip loosened on the window
and he sank back in the seat. His head lolled to one side. Bethel had never seen anyone
look so weary, so sad. A tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another. She’d never
seen a man cry before. For some reason, it devastated her all the more. “Don’t tell
me that. Because that would be a lie.”
“Please, Shawn, don’t. It will get better. I know it will. It has for me.”
“Go on, tell me the lie. Go ahead.”
She chewed on her lip some more. She did feel something for him, but she couldn’t
be sure what it was and it didn’t matter because she lived her faith and she loved
her Plain family more.
“See there.” He laughed, a mangled half sob, half chuckle. “I can read you like a
book.”
“You don’t know anything about me or you wouldn’t be here in front of my family’s
home, trying to get me to tell you something that you know I shouldn’t.” She stopped.
The effort to swallow her own sobs hurt her throat. “I care about you because you
are another human being in pain.” She swallowed again. Her throat closed. The ache
hurt so much her hands went to her throat of their own accord as if to assuage it.
“It hurts me to see you hurt because I understand how you feel.”
“That’s not love?”
“Not like you mean it.”
“But if there were time, it could be.”
Yes, if there were time and they were two different people living in a different world,
but Bethel couldn’t tell him that. She didn’t want him to feel more pain. “Go home.”
She pushed against his door and he let her close it. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better
tomorrow.”
She waved at Rick, who leaned against the fence. The fiery red end of a cigarette
bobbed in the dark. He straightened and started toward her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Shawn grabbed her hand before she could get beyond
his reach. His fingers were cold and damp. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
“Tomorrow I go to Kansas for a wedding.”
His grip loosened. Rick slid into the driver’s side and started the engine. It kicked
over with a loud rumble that Bethel figured could be heard in every room of the house.
“You’re coming back, right?” Shawn hollered through the window as Rick pulled the
jeep around and pointed it toward the road. “Tell me you’re coming back.”
“I’m coming back,” she whispered. “Just not to you.”
She stood there until the car disappeared from sight. Then she sighed and swiveled
to face the house. Weariness embraced sadness. The two mingled and sat on her shoulders
with such weight, she could barely stand. She wanted to sink to the ground and wail.
She didn’t. If she did, she’d never be able to get up again. Luke would find her sleeping
in the grass when he came out to feed the livestock in the morning. She lifted her
gaze to the sky. No clouds obscured her view. The stars twinkled down at her. They
looked as if they were winking at her. Like they were enjoying a little joke together.
Only she didn’t get the joke. Not at all.
Why, Gott, why?
The question shamed her. She had no right to question God’s plan. An Englisch man
had declared his love for her. In a drunken state, true, but still he expressed the
feelings that she longed to hear. No other man had ever done that. No Plain man.
Give it time
.
Never had the words been clearer. They echoed across the expanse of sky and through
the fields barren in anticipation of a long, cold, dark winter. Patience had never
been her virtue. Every day since the storm, God had taught her this agonizing lesson
of patience.
Wait. Wait on Me. Wait
.
How long?
She wanted to shout the question. Instead she slapped a hand to her mouth and swallowed
her sobs. God didn’t like a whiner either. She forced herself forward. A movement
in the second floor window caught her gaze.
Luke looked down at her. After a long moment, he let the curtain drop.
B
ethel reveled in the warmth of her mudder’s hug and her familiar lemony scent. After
the long drive in the van, it felt so good to stretch and breathe fresh air. It felt
good to be home. It felt good to be away from the loud silence in which Luke and Leah
took turns staring out the windows, both so lost in their own worlds that the task
of answering the boys’ endless questions and shushing the twins and checking Jebediah’s
diaper fell to Bethel. Every time Bethel searched Luke’s face, thinking he would say
something to her about the previous evening, he simply looked out the window. Like
he couldn’t bear to contemplate her face. She’d done nothing wrong. She should tell
him that. Or should she wait until he asked?
She hugged her mother tighter. She would live in this moment, back in the home of
her childhood that smelled of gingersnaps and fry pies. It had been two months, but
somehow Mudder seemed even sparser. Like there was less of her to hug. After her bouts
with cancer, she’d never regained her former roundness and she always looked older
than other children’s mothers. But she had a sturdiness about her brought on by the
fight she’d waged to stay alive until her children were grown. Bethel pulled back
so she could see Mudder’s lined face under the gray frizz that had escaped her kapp.
“It’s good to see you. Have you been well?”
“I’m fine. Your room is ready for you.” Mudder picked up Bethel’s beat-up leather
suitcase. It had been in the family as long as Bethel could remember. “Mattie and
the boys will be here shortly. Your brothers are coming too. Your daed is in town
picking up a part for the spreader. After supper, we can all sit down together and
enjoy each other’s company. Well, everyone except Leah. I suppose she’ll have supper
with Annie and the Shirack clan. I saw Annie at the bakery yesterday and she was running
about on pins and needles, she was so excited to see everyone.”