The Amish Groom ~ Men of Lancaster County Book 1 (11 page)

Show me, God. Show me if this is from You, if this is what You want me to do.

I turned away from the wall to pace the entrance. I knew I needed to say something to my father, who was still waiting for an answer from me.

Glancing up, I spotted
Daadi
standing nearby, and I knew from the way he looked at me that he had been there a while. Our eyes met, though I couldn’t read what his were saying. Then he turned and walked away to give me some privacy.

“This is a really busy time for me, Dad. I have a lot going on in my life.”

“Seriously? Come on, Ty. You lead as uncomplicated a life as anybody I know. Besides, I can’t believe you of all people would say no to family. Not you.”

My father never had understood that being Plain didn’t mean I led a carefree, easy life. I was as busy as any
Englischer
with a full-time job, land and farm buildings to maintain, and animals to care for. Still, my father’s other indictment hit home. I wasn’t one to say no to family. That was not the way I had been brought up.

Besides, he had never needed anything from me before. Not once. Now, for the first time ever, I had the power to do something for him that he could not do for himself. To be needed this way was astonishing—and, at some level, deeply pleasing.

“When would you want me to come?”

“I’m thinking you should aim to get here by next Tuesday at the latest, if you can. Liz will already be gone, and my flight to Qatar is the next day.”

My mind raced as I glanced toward the calendar on the shop wall. “But this is already Thursday. That means I’d have just this one weekend to prepare for being away for a whole month.”

“So? That should be more than enough time. I mean, it’s not like you’ve got a bunch of Halloween parties to go to this weekend or anything, is it?”

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Of course not.” In the Amish world, as he well knew, Halloween was a non issue.

“Well, then, here’s the deal. I’ve already checked the flights, and there are still a couple of good options available. Just give me the word, and I’ll lock one in for you. Why don’t we try and plan for you to come out on Tuesday?”

I took a deep breath, held it in, and then opened my eyes as I slowly let it out. “Look, Dad, even if I come, I’m not sure I will travel by plane. I need to talk this over with
Daadi
before—”

“No, you don’t. You’re an adult. And you’re not a church member yet. I know how this Amish stuff works.”

“
Daadi
is also my employer, Dad. I
do
need to talk to him first. Can I call you back?”

“So you’ll come?”

“I need to talk to
Daadi
first.”

But in my heart I already knew how my grandfather would respond. He would consider the timing of my father’s call and the prayers everyone had been saying on my behalf, and he would conclude God was showing me what He wanted me to do. If the bishop and the district elders felt the same way, then it would be doubly wrong of me to tell my father no.

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” I said.

“Thanks, Tyler,” my dad replied, obviously sure that
Daadi
would never allow me to decline a family need as great as this one. “I’ll pay for the flight, of course, and I’ll match whatever you make at the buggy place for the whole time you’re here.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“I insist. Brady will be so glad you’re coming. He’s missed you.”

“It will be nice to see him too.” I
had
missed my brother. The last time we’d been together had been almost two years ago when he and Dad had come to Philadelphia for an Eagles game and to spend a weekend with me.

“I can’t thank you enough, Tyler. Really.”

“Well, let me call you back before we say it’s a done deal.”

We said our goodbyes, and then I went in search of my grandfather.

It took the bishop, elders, and my grandfather only one day to decide that I should do as my father asked and go to California for the month. I was brought to Bishop Ott’s house on Friday morning to hear their decision, so that they could personally admonish me to use my time away wisely, fully seeking God’s call on my life.

I could see in the eyes of every man in the room that they had always known I would someday need to do this. I was born
Englisch
. I lived for six years in the
Englisch
world. I had an
Englisch
father and an
Englisch
half brother. I was different from everyone else in my district in this way. I could take vows to become one of them, but I wasn’t like them yet. Bishop Ott and the other ministers and deacons were convinced that my restlessness was God’s way of calling me out to lay to rest any lingering affection for the world I had been born into.

When I returned in December, I would be expected to tell them if I was ready to seek membership and baptism or not. The elders said it was time for me to figure out who I was. Was I Tyler the
Englischer
, man of the world, the son of a retired army colonel? If so, then I knew nothing about what my life would become except that I could then do whatever I wanted, be whatever I wanted, learn whatever I wanted.

Or was I Tyler the Amish buggy maker and future husband to an Amish bride? If so, then I knew exactly what my life would look like. My choices were fairly limited, but I would have my church, my community.

I would have Rachel.

The men laid their hands on my shoulders and prayed for me. As they did, I asked God to remove any desire in my life that hadn’t been given to me by Him. Before I left, Bishop Ott gave me permission to fly out to California rather than take the train. I’d been allowed to travel to my dad’s by air when I was young as it was the quickest and safest mode of transportation for a child. But I wasn’t a child any longer, so I was surprised that air travel had received the okay this time. No other Amish person in my district had ever been given permission to travel by airplane that I could remember.

Then again, I wasn’t like any other Amish person in my district. I knew it and the leaders of my district knew it.

My grandfather and I were quiet as we rode home from Bishop Ott’s, each of us lost in our thoughts. I knew
Daadi
didn’t want me to leave. He loved me like a son. But I think he and
Mammi
had always believed I was theirs for a season. What happened beyond that was up to God, not them.

I straddled two worlds, and I had to figure out which was the one I belonged in.

The scariest part about it was that Rachel didn’t stand with me in the middle. She was already firmly planted on the Amish side.

E
IGHT

R
achel needed to hear about my father’s request and the elders’ decision, so Friday evening I took her out to the pond where we could talk. She knew what a comfort this place had been to me over the years, but this was the first time I had ever invited her to see it for herself. In the past I’d always treated the pond as my own private place, a sanctuary for me alone. Now, however, I knew I needed to give her this, to open up to her this way. I also wanted her to be reminded of what I’d been through in my life and of what I’d lost when I was six. Somehow, I hoped, maybe that would help her understand, at least a little bit, about my imminent departure and what it would involve and why it was important.

The air was crisp and cool and hinting of the winter to come as we moved down the path in Timber’s wake. We reached the clearing and came to a stop at the water’s edge, the sun low on the horizon, the sky a vivid orange. Standing there, I pointed out the cluster of rocks and my favorite weeping willow and the old boat I’d taken out in the water just two and a half weeks before. Then, taking her hand in mine, I began to describe that long-ago morning when my grandparents had brought me out here so I could see for myself the pond my mother had told me about. I had no gift for painting pictures with words, but I tried as best I could to describe the scene for her, focusing on the sadness and fear and confusion of that lost little boy.

From there, I moved into all that had been happening recently. I reminded her of the restlessness I’d been feeling, and then I told her about my prayers for guidance, my father’s phone call, and the meeting at Bishop Ott’s. I told her everything, ending with the news that the elders expected me to use the time I was gone to discover who I was—Amish or
Englisch
—once and for all.

Rachel was quiet as she listened, the pensive expression on her face slowly turning to dismay.

“You’re telling me the bishop
wants
you to go?” she asked when I was done, pulling her hand away from mine. “And your
daadi
. And the elders? They all
want
you to go?”

“It’s not that they want me to go. They think I
should
. They think God is answering the prayer we’ve been asking, that He would show me who I am.”

“I can tell you who you are!” Her raised voice sent a burst of starlings in the tall grass flinging to the air. “You’ve lived the Amish way for seventeen years, Tyler, with people who have loved you from the minute you got here. God brought you to us when you needed us most, when your father—”

Her voice cut off mid-sentence, one hand flying to her mouth. Then she turned her back to me, leaving the unspoken to hang there in the air between us, ringing out loud and clear.

When your father…abandoned you.

When your father…didn’t want you anymore.

When your father…found it easier to dump you on someone else and just walk away.

I closed my eyes, feeling more alone in that moment than I ever had in my life.

When I felt Rachel’s hand on my arm, I opened my eyes to see that she was again facing me, only now her cheeks were glistening with tears.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered, eyes liquid with regret. “I never should have said that. I’m so sorry.”

I hesitated only a moment, and then I pulled her to me and wrapped her in my arms. We stood that way for a long while without saying anything.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered. “Please, please forgive me.”

“Shhh. Of course I forgive you.”

“I’m just so afraid you won’t come back.”

“I love you, Rachel. I want to come back. I really do.”

She raised her head to look at me. “But you and I both know you can’t become Amish just for me. What if you get out there and you find the answer you’re looking for…and that answer is that you are
not
Amish? What then? What then, Tyler?”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would mean. I ran my thumb across her cheek to brush away a trail of tears. “So you would have me stay and always wonder?”

“I would have you stay and know that love means you do not have to wonder.”

I let my hand fall away as I looked beyond her to the pond, where a slight mist had gathered above the surface and was hovering there. Was that what loving Rachel really meant? That I didn’t have to wonder which man I was?

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but it’s more complicated than that. When I think about my mother and what happened with her…” My voice trailed off. How could I explain my feelings to anyone else if I didn’t even understand them myself?

“What happened with her? You mean her death?”

I shook my head. “No. When she was younger. When she ran away from the Amish life. When I think about that, I just…” Again, words failed me.

But she wasn’t going to make this easy for me. She eased herself out of my embrace. Folding her arms across her chest, she just stood there and waited for me to continue.

“Nobody knows why she did that,” I said finally. “Not really. No one has ever been able to explain the thoughts and feelings that sent her away from here.”