River of Mercy (49 page)

Come, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known.

I
SAAC
W
ATTS

Riverhaven

Twilight in early December, two years later

R
achel Gant tiptoed through the back of the new house, intending to sneak up on her husband.

It was becoming more and more difficult to walk quietly, thanks to the ever increasing girth of her unborn baby. Mamma was convinced the
boppli
would be a boy, given Rachel's quick and substantial weight gain. Rachel didn't care whether their first child would be a girl or boy so long as their “wee wane”—Jeremiah's term—was healthy and came soon. She was eager to be a mother and just as eager to lose this excess weight.

Somehow she actually managed to surprise Jeremiah. She moved in close behind him, grasping his shoulders and planting a soft kiss on the back of his head. He was kneeling on his good leg, apparently putting the finishing touches on the newly laid wooden floor of the kitchen.

With a yelp of surprise, he pivoted on his knee and then got to his feet and pulled her to him. “And just what is it you're up to, Rachel Gant?” he said with feigned sternness. “Trying to give your husband a scare, is it?”

Rachel smiled up into his handsome, bearded face and produced the cookie she'd brought him. “I thought I'd bribe you into a short walk by the river.”

“Isn't it a bit cold for you to be walking about?” he said, taking the cookie and biting into it. “Mm…delicious.”

“It's actually mild for December. And remember, Doc said I should walk a little every day.”

“Even now? He also said the baby might come any day.” He finished off the cookie, wiped a fist over his mouth, and planted a light kiss on her forehead.

“Even now. Please?”

“All right. But we'll not go far. Agreed?”

Rachel nodded. “Agreed. I wouldn't last very long on my feet anyway.”

While she waited for him, she went from room to room, admiring his handiwork. She supposed some might find the new house a foolish extravagance, but she understood Jeremiah's reluctance to live in a house built by her first husband. He wanted a place of their own, a home he would raise with his own hands, his own skill. Gideon and Doc and many among the People had helped, but the plans, the design, and much hard work were all from Jeremiah. He had always wanted to build a house, he'd told her.

And now he had. He'd built it in keeping with the Plain style of living—no fanciness or frills, just a good, solid home with much planning and fine workmanship. A house with three bedrooms besides their own. “One for the boys, one for the girls, and a bigger one for Fannie,” he'd said before the first wall was ever set in place. “A young girl's room for as often as she chooses to visit.”

And then, of course, connected to the side of the house was his new workshop. He would be moving out of the shop in town as soon as the new work area was completed. Given the way his reputation had spread, no doubt he'd still have a good number of
Englisch
customers as well as Amish, but now he would work closer to home. The new shop was big enough for him and Gideon to be comfortable working together and was close to the road for the convenience of his customers and deliveries.

As it happened, the house Rachel and Eli had once shared would soon be occupied by Gideon and Emma, now that they were married. They had been staying with Emma's family, waiting for their own place, which they would have as soon as Rachel and Jeremiah moved into their new home.

Rachel was delighted to know her brother and his wife—and eventually their children—would be living in her former home.

She was glad, too, that soon she and Jeremiah would have a secret room nearby, on their own land, instead of in town in the carpentry shop barn. Completed only a few days ago, it was built below ground in the new barn, with a concealed door and stairway well hidden behind another small room where feed and other supplies were stored. This is where they would continue to offer protection and seclusion to any refugee slaves in need of safe harbor.

The practice of harboring runaways was never spoken of throughout the community, never acknowledged, but conductors always seemed to know how to find a station when needed. Now that a few other Amish and
Englisch
families in the area were contributing to the efforts of the Underground Railroad, the secret rooms were becoming more numerous.

Before they were married, when Jeremiah asked Rachel her feelings about providing refuge for the runaways, she had insisted he continue. She knew how strongly he felt about helping the slaves gain their freedom, and she wasn't about to interfere.

In truth, she had come to share his abhorrence of slavery. She intended to work alongside him in his work to defeat the odious practice.

Gideon, too, had expressed his desire to help in any way he might be needed. So with Asa planning to build a small cabin on the adjacent land Jeremiah had deeded to him, they would all be able to work together—at least when Gideon and Asa weren't on the road—in providing refuge for runaways. It was important work, and although it was risky work as well, Rachel felt blessed to be a part of it.

Outside, Jeremiah took her arm as they started toward the river. “Warm enough?” he said.

“I'm fine. But I imagine you're tired. You said you had a busy day in the shop, and now you've worked for hours on the house.”

“We'll have some real winter soon. I want to get most of the work done and the shop moved out here before then.” He squeezed her arm. “You're still feeling all right?”

Rachel nodded. “You surprise me,” she said after a moment.

“That's good. I wouldn't want to bore you.”

“As if you ever could.”

“So how do I surprise you?”

“I never thought you'd be much for fussing. But you fuss over me all the time.”

“Some things are just worth fussing over, m'lovely. You're one of them. Besides, I've never had a wife to fuss over before. I'm rather enjoying it.”

As they approached the river, Rachel leaned closely into his warmth. “I rather enjoy it myself.”

He stopped, leaned over, and kissed her.

“Jeremiah! Not in public.”

He looked around. “Do you see someone I don't?”

She elbowed him and started walking again. “We need to keep working on your language lessons, you know.”

“Malachi says I've done very well. He wouldn't have allowed me to convert otherwise.”

“Oh, you have done well,” she said dryly. “But you're still speaking the Amish language with an Irish accent. You can use a little more work.” She paused. “And you should probably refer to Malachi as Bishop.”

He waved off her suggestion with his free hand. “He doesn't mind. Doc still calls him Malachi too.”

“Mmm.”

They walked along in silence for a short time before he pressed her arm to stop. “That's enough walking for you. Here's our bench.”

He had built a sturdy wooden bench on the riverbank nearby where they could sit during the evenings in good weather and watch the river. Rachel loved being close to the water, listening to its song, watching its flow. But she knew Jeremiah loved it even more.

“If you're cold,” he said after a few minutes, “let's go back to the house.”

Rachel delayed only a moment before saying, “I'm ready to go.”

He looked at her. “You seem distracted tonight. Are you really all right?”

“And you seem overly anxious. I'm fine, Jeremiah. Really.”

He studied her for another moment and then nodded. “Let's go then.”

Halfway to the house, he said, “I almost forgot. I have news.”

Rachel also had news, in truth had been bursting to tell him all evening, but at the moment she thought she might wait. She was feeling a little breathless, and her legs seemed strangely heavy.

“Tell me,” she prompted.

“Well, it seems that your
Englisch
friend Ellie and the doctor are also going to have a new wee wane.”

“Oh, I'm so glad, Jeremiah! That's wonderful!”

Rachel and Ellie Sawyer had become friends over the past year. When Ellie married the new doctor in town, Rachel had made one of her more colorful birdhouses and given it to them as a wedding gift. It was hard to believe and embarrassing to think that she'd once struggled with jealousy over what she'd perceived as an attraction between her friend and Jeremiah. Now she could look forward to sewing baby things for Ellie's new little one in addition to her own.

By the time they reached the house, Rachel knew she'd walked too far. Her breath was fairly labored, and her feet felt as if she were wearing bricks for shoes. She plopped down on a kitchen chair the moment she shrugged out of her coat.

“Rachel? Are you sure you're all right?”

She tried to wave off Jeremiah's concerned frown. “I'm fine. Just a little out of breath. I was starting to get cold.”

“Let me fix you some hot tea.”

Rachel watched her husband move with ease around the room. One nice thing about marrying a man who had been on his own a few years and hadn't always been Amish was that he knew his way around a kitchen and didn't mind doing “woman's work.”

He sat down beside her and watched as she drank her tea. “Better?” he said.

She nodded, though it was a bit of a pretense. Still, there was no sense in worrying him. At least not yet.

“I have news too,” she said, straightening as she tried to find a comfortable position.

“And you're just now telling me?”

“Well, it's…big news. I was waiting for the right time.”

Now she had his attention. “So?”

She was enjoying this even if she was uncomfortable. “Doc thinks… he can't be sure, mind you…but when he examined me today, he thought he might have heard two heartbeats.”

“Two…” He looked at her. “What does that mean?”

“Well…it could mean I'm carrying two babies instead of one.”

He reared back on the chair. Stared at her. “Two?” He sounded as if he were about to strangle.

“Two,” Rachel echoed, unable to stop a smile. She had never seen Jeremiah look so positively thunderstruck, except perhaps on their wedding day. “It's just possible that we're going to have twins.”

As she watched, he struggled so hard to swallow that she feared he might choke.

Finally, a somewhat stunned grin broke over his face, and he made a move toward her.

In that instant, something clamped down hard in Rachel's middle, and she caught her breath.

Apparently, Jeremiah didn't notice. “Rachel…I'm at a loss. This is—”

She lifted a hand to stop him. “Jeremiah…”

He dipped his head to kiss her, but again she put out a hand of restraint. “Jeremiah, you can kiss me later. But right now there's something else you need to do.”

“Aye. Anything,” he said, his voice still unsteady.

“You need to go and fetch Doc and Mamma. And, Jeremiah…”

His eyes wide, he shook his head as if to clear it. “What, sweetheart?”

“You need to hurry. I do believe you're going to be a father tonight.”

Like a great and mighty river is God's mercy,
Flowing through God's people who believe.
His power is ours in fullness beyond measure,
Forever pouring out as we receive.

Though obstacles may rise and block its passage,
Slow it down or modify its course,
There's nothing that can halt its steady flowing,
For the Living Water is the river's source.

Life's struggles won't impede God's stream of mercy
If we trust His love to always make a way,
And the river will flow out from us to others
If we keep our eyes on Jesus day by day.