River of Mercy (2 page)

Trying not to think of Jeremiah.

But how could she
not
think of him? How did a woman love a man, even if their love was forbidden, and not see his face in her mind or hear his voice in her ear or remember the imprint of his smile upon her thoughts?

Common sense seemed to tell her it should be easy to put the man out of her head. They couldn't be alone with each other. They couldn't even pass the time of day unless they were in the company of others. If they happened to meet by accident, they were expected to separate as quickly as possible.

Yet even with all the rules and restrictions that kept them apart, Jeremiah Gant was still a part of her life. He flowed through her heart and traced the current of her days as surely and completely as the Ohio flowed through the valley, winding its way through the land, coursing through the days and lives of Rachel and the other Plain people.

Lately, there had been talk of leaving. Two years and more of unrest and harassment and threats—even death—had begun to wear on the Riverhaven Amish. It was rumored that talks were taking place among the church leaders, discussions of whether to remain in this once peaceful valley that had become home to the entire community or to consider moving on.

There was no thought of fighting back, of seeking out the unknown adversaries and taking a stand against them. Even if the People could identify their tormenters, they would not confront them. The Amish were a people of nonresistance. They would not fight, not even to protect their own lives. It wasn't their way. To strike out at another individual under any circumstances was strictly against the
Ordnung,
the unwritten but strict code that guided how they were to live.

The only person Rachel had ever known to defy the rule against fighting, even in self-defense, was Eli, her deceased husband. He'd gone against the Amish way when he defended Rachel against those who ambushed them on another November night, now four years gone. He had fought with desperation and all his strength, only to die at the hands of their attackers while allowing Rachel to escape.

She knew it was a grievous sin to have such a thought, but many had been the time she wished she could have died alongside Eli that terrible night rather than live through the grief-hollowed, barren days that followed his death. She had been totally devoted to Eli. Their marriage had been good, for they had been close friends as well as husband and wife. Rachel had thought she could never love another man after losing Eli.

And then Jeremiah Gant had come to Riverhaven, turning her life around, enabling her to love again—only to have that love forbidden. Even though Jeremiah had made it known he would willingly convert to the Amish faith, Bishop Graber refused to grant permission, once again leaving Rachel with a lost love and a broken heart.

Perhaps it would be better if they
were
to leave Riverhaven…leave the fear and the dread and the pain-filled memories behind.

Leave Jeremiah…

The thought stabbed her heart. Could she really face never seeing him again? Never again hear him say her name in that soft and special way he had of making it as tender as a touch? Never again see the smile that was meant for her alone?

In truth, it wasn't only Jeremiah she would miss if they were to leave this fertile Ohio valley. She loved the land, the gentle hills, the singing river. She had come here when she was still a child, come from another place that had never truly been home to her. Here in Riverhaven though, she had felt welcome and accepted. At peace. At home.

At least for a time. It was almost as if she had become a part of the land itself. Even the thought of leaving made her sad beyond telling.

She sighed, knowing she should stir and make ready for bed, even though she felt far too restless for sleep. Would this be another of too many nights when her thoughts tormented her, circling like birds of prey, evoking an uneasiness and anxiety that would give her no peace?

Finally she stood, securing the window to ward off the cold, even though she sensed that the chill snaking through her had little to do with the night air. All too familiar with this icy wind of loneliness, she knew there was no warmth that could ease its punishing sting.

1

I used to think that love made people happy, but now I know it can also make them sad.

F
ROM THE PERSONAL DIARY OF
F
ANNIE
K
ANAGY

E
ven though a heavy sadness lay behind this visit to Riverhaven, Rachel couldn't help but take pleasure in the music streaming from one of the two churches on the main street.

It was unusually mild for a late morning in November. Someone must have cracked open the church door or a window, for the hymn singing was clear enough to make out most of the words. Even though it was church music, Rachel knew she probably shouldn't give it too much of her attention. Music tended to take her mind off everything else, and today she didn't want to be distracted.

The Amish held worship services on alternating Sundays, and the other Sundays were usually spent calling on family and friends. Rachel didn't know Ellie Sawyer very well, but on this particular day she felt the need to pay her a visit. It was early to call on someone who wasn't family, and the newly widowed Mrs. Sawyer was probably in church, so Rachel had agreed to Fannie's suggestion to go sightseeing first at the Riverhaven Park with its nice picnic grounds. There was a beautiful view of the Ohio River and the sloping hills that bordered its grounds and pier.

Rachel and Fannie's widowed mother had recently married Dr. David Sebastian, and the couple had traveled by train to Baltimore to meet the doctor's son and family, so only the two sisters were visiting Ellie Sawyer today. The poor young wife and mother had only recently learned of her husband's tragic death from a farm accident in Indiana, so no doubt she would be grieving deeply.

To make matters worse, Mr. Sawyer had been buried for nearly two weeks in another state before Ellie learned by post that he was gone. The awful news had come too late for her to travel and attend her husband's funeral.

Rachel couldn't begin to imagine how difficult that must have been. At least when she lost Eli, she had been there to prepare his body for burial and had known the comfort of her entire family and community of friends. The People gathered close around one of their own during such a time to help and console in any way they could. Death was always a hard thing, but having loved ones close by to share one's sorrow helped ease the pain, at least a little.

The church and its music now behind them, Fannie nudged Rachel. “The
Englisch
hymn singing is real pretty, isn't it, Rachel? I like music, don't you?”

Rachel nodded.
“Ja.
But we mustn't let it distract us today or any other day for that matter. And let's be sure to give Ellie Sawyer all our attention while we're there.”

“Does Mrs. Sawyer know about Eli? That you're a widow too?”

The road to the park was in sight now, so Rachel slowed the buggy before replying. “I doubt that she does. And I wouldn't want to mention it to her, especially now. She doesn't need to be thinking about anyone's loss but her own these days.”

“I just thought it might help her to know someone else understands what she's going through.”

Rachel glanced at her sister. For such a young girl, Fannie sometimes showed surprising insights. Was she right? Would Ellie Sawyer feel better knowing that someone nearby could understand and even share her grief?

“Well,” Rachel said before stepping out of the buggy, “if the time ever comes when I feel I should mention it, I will.”

Even as she said the words though, Rachel hoped the time wouldn't come. Despite the years that had passed since Eli's death, it was all she could do to speak of it. The memory of that awful night still seared her heart.

Rachel and Fannie stayed considerably longer at the park than they had planned. The mild weather encouraged walking along the riverbank, and the view was worth the time they spent admiring it. By the time they drove back into Riverhaven to visit Ellie Sawyer, it was almost two o'clock.

“I wonder if it's too late to stop at the boardinghouse,” Rachel said. “I wouldn't want to wake the baby if she's napping.”

“Oh, Rachel, I really want to see the baby! Please, let's stop for a few minutes at least.”

Rachel looked at her. “All right, but we won't stay long.” She slowed the horses, intending to park across the road from the boardinghouse.

“Captain Gant!” Fannie cried, standing up in the buggy. “Look, Rachel, there's Captain Gant!”

Rachel reined in the horses a little too sharply, easing up as she saw Jeremiah step down from the porch of the boardinghouse. At Fannie's cry, he stopped by the side of the road and returned her wave, waiting while Rachel parked the buggy before walking toward them.

Irked by the way her heart raced at the sight of him, Rachel sat still as a stone, still grasping the reins as he approached. His first words were for Fannie, who was practically squirming with excitement. As always, he charmed the girl by sweeping a bow and breaking into a huge smile.

“Well, now, if it isn't Miss Fannie Kanagy. This is a nice surprise.”

When he turned to Rachel, his smile softened. “Rachel,” he said quietly. The look he gave her was as warm and intimate as if he'd laid his hand along her cheek. “How are you keeping?”

It was all Rachel could do to choke out a greeting. He unnerved her at the best of times, but coming upon him unexpectedly made it almost impossible to keep her composure.

Tall and casual in his shirtsleeves—although the weather wasn't quite that mild—while a faint November breeze ruffled his dark hair, he was handsome enough to make any woman go weak-kneed and take a second look.

Only the awareness that she didn't dare look at him too closely made it possible for Rachel to drag her gaze away. Even so, she allowed a quick, forbidden thought that the roads of Riverhaven would be far safer if men like Jeremiah Gant were confined indoors.

She finally faced him to find him studying her with one raised eyebrow and a hint of a smile. She cleared her throat, saying, “I'm doing well, thank you.”

“It's a little unusual to see you in town on a Sunday,” he said. “Are you looking for Gideon?”