The Crossroad (26 page)

His head tilted a bit to one side, and by the somber look on his haggard face, she wondered if he might be paying some heed to what she was sayin’. “Jesus can set you free of powwowing, too. You don’t hafta die in your sins, Blue Johnny. You can turn your back on what the devil’s been after you to do all these years.”

He blinked his eyes like he was right nervous now. “Been hearin’ this all my life from one Bible thumper or another. Thing is, most folk look on me and my black box as a powerful-good miracle worker.” He lifted his hand to scratch under his hat. “But never has an Amishwoman talked to me the way you are.”

Rachel shook her head. “I’m not a preacher, if that’s what you’re thinkin’, but I’m servin’ the Lord in whatever way I can. If talking to you ’bout God and His Word is part of that callin’, well, then, I’m ever so glad to do it.”

Blue Johnny grimaced, saying nothing.

The bishop’s body was being brought out in a long poplar coffin, wider at the shoulders and tapered toward the feet. Time for the final viewing.

“I’ll be prayin’ for you, Blue Johnny.”

“Praying … for me?” His eyes were pools of wonder.

Rachel nodded. “Jah, I will.”

He didn’t offer a smile but gave yet another dip of his bushy-haired head.

No one was home when Philip returned to the Amish B&B. And though he tried the door and found it to be open, he nevertheless chose to remain outside until the Zooks and Rachel returned. He sat on the front porch for nearly thirty minutes, his feet and hands growing numb with cold, so he returned to his car, waiting with great anticipation.

Glancing at the digital dash clock, he decided to give Rachel and her family another half hour. If they didn’t arrive home by then, he would leave a note for Rachel.
I must talk to you, my dearest
, it might say. He would post it in plain sight on the storm door—so either Benjamin or Susanna would be sure to notice it as they entered. He would be taking a risk of such a note ever finding its way into Rachel’s hands, though. She might not be told of his message at all.

Sitting in the luxury of his warm car, he thought back to various conversations with Rachel, especially their last dinner together, when they’d discussed their differences at length. He considered his life as a future Amishman. Would he miss the many technological conveniences he was accustomed to? Would the Plain life be stimulating enough for his active mind? And what if he tired of the simple ways—would he long to return to the big city, regretting his decision to join the Anabaptist community?

But no, there was only Rachel for him—she was the answer to his heart’s cry. Plain or not, she was his sweetheart. And whatever it took, he would leap the chasm that had separated them.

Don’t make my mistake
, Adele had warned, referring to herself and Gabe Esh. So Philip had benefited greatly from Adele’s story—not to err and miss out on his heart mate. He
was
ready to take the plunge to simplicity, tranquility, and devotion—the biblical aspects of a life “set apart,” the very things that had called to him since coming to Lancaster County, where his heart had turned back to God in total abandon.

Philip breathed a prayer, all the while picturing himself settled in the Bird-in-Hand area, working the land, possibly; helping his neighbors harvest crops, assisting his beloved in her blindness, witnessing of God’s grace and love, writing on assignment—a Christian publication would be a welcome change—and growing old gracefully and happily with Rachel by his side. And, the Lord willing, he would father many children and lead each of them to the foot of Calvary’s cross.

Yes, there was no longer any mistake about it. He had come home.

Tables had been laid with plates and utensils for the shared meal—cold cuts of beef, hot mashed potatoes and gravy, various kinds of fruit, and coffee—following the burial service. After they served the men and teenage boys first, as was their custom, Rachel made sure there was room for Lavina to sit next to her. Women and children ate last, while the men stood ’round outside in the barn and outbuildings, comparin’ notes on mules and upcoming auctions and whatnot.

“Looks to me like God answered your prayer,” Lavina said, clasping Rachel’s hand.

“Jah, He truly did.”

Lavina’s head was bobbin’ up and down. “He’s ever faithful, as Adele would say.”

Leaning over, Rachel hugged Annie and noticed her missing front tooth. “Ach, when’s the new tooth comin’ in, do ya think?” She pointed to the tiny gap.

Annie’s tongue did a gut job of feelin’ for the new tooth. Suddenly, her eyes grew big as can be. “I feel it, Mamma! My big-girl tooth is on its way down.”

Lavina and two of Rachel’s sisters, Lizzy and Mary, laughed out loud at Annie’s cute comment about the “big-girl tooth.” Her sisters’ tittering, especially, encouraged Rachel and gave her hope that a mended relationship might be forthcoming. Now that her sight had returned, maybe her siblings and their families wouldn’t stay so far away. Maybe they’d understand, too, that she wasn’t
narrisch
—crazy—or under the sway of some spell. She had faith—jah, even confidence!—that in time, her companionship with all her siblings would steadily improve. All eleven of them!

Meanwhile, she would pray and ask the Lord how to minister to dear Lizzy, first of all. Trust the Lord to show her older sister His grace and forgiveness, how He had brought Rachel to a clear understanding of the powwow “gifting” and its false belief system. In turn, Lizzy might pass on the knowledge to her youngest, the rambunctious and often impulsive Joshua. For now, Rachel would believe the Lord for divine wisdom to know what to say—and when.

“Did your New York guest leave already?” Lavina whispered during dessert.

“Right away this mornin’.”

“Before your sight returned to you?”

“No … after.”

Lavina’s mouth dropped open. “Then … he
knows
’bout your healing?”

She shook her head slowly, glancing ’round the table, hoping no one was paying them any mind. “I just couldn’t tell him, Lavina.”

“Well, why not?”

“‘Cause I thought I was doin’ the right thing not to let on. I … oh, Lavina, I wanted him to care for me whether I was blind or not.”

“So you didn’t learn nothin’ from Adele and Gabe, I guess.”

Heart aching, Rachel felt her confidence dwindling. When did Lavina come to be so outspoken? She just didn’t know if she could abide this sad, lost feelin’ that had come upon her at the older woman’s reproach.

“You love him, I know ya do, Rachel. It’s all over your face.”

“But it’s best this way” was all she could bring herself to say.

Twenty-Five

The sky was beginning to streak bright golds and reds due to a myriad of clouds. Rachel watched from her vantage point in the buggy, enjoying the ride home. Never again would she allow herself to take her eyesight for granted. God did a wonderful-gut thing, giving it back. She couldn’t keep from looking—no, starin’—at clouds, trees, farmland, neighbors’ houses, even colorless plank fences.

Winter had always had a feeling of silence to it, the cold seemin’ to gobble up near all the sounds, ’cept for boots gnawin’ away at crusty blankets of snow and horse hooves clapping against hardened roads. And there were the occasional shouts of glee from children playin’ Crack the Whip on the pond. All of it, Rachel felt she was seeing and hearing for the very first time.

“We had a right gut turnout for the bishop’s services,” Dat spoke up in the front seat.

Mam nodded. “I think lotsa folk came out of curiosity, in a way.”

“What do ya mean?” Dat sounded awful serious.

“Well, you know, all the talk of Seth’s salvation going ’round. Some might’ve thought one of the preachers would stand up and give an account of the bishop’s final words or suchlike.”

“Seems to me they should’ve.”

Mam sighed and Rachel could hear it from the backseat. “Word’s travelin’ faster than ever these days.”

“Jah, and a few had heard of
my
news,” Rachel chimed in. “I have a feelin’ somebody must’ve gotten on the phone and called around.”

Mam craned her neck and smiled real big at her. “Couldn’t keep such a thing as my daughter’s recovery to myself, now, could I?”

She hoped Mam felt the same ’bout the bishop’s change of heart, wantin’ to spread the word. ’Cause far as she was concerned, that was the best miracle of all.

“Well, what the world!” Dat said as they came down Olde Mill Road toward the house.

Rachel had been taking in the view on the opposite side of the carriage, gazing at just ’bout anything she laid eyes on, while Annie kept a-huggin’ her. But when she turned, she was shocked to see Philip’s car parked in the designated guest area, with Philip himself inside! She remained silent, though her heart beat so hard, she was perty sure Mam would hear it up front.

Annie jumped out of the carriage as soon as the horse stopped. “It’s Mister Philip!” she said, running through the snow. “He’s back … again!”

“Looks like we might be gettin’ ourselves an Englischer son-in-law, Mam,” Dat joked.

“Now, Benjamin, don’t jump to conclusions.” Mam turned ’round again, but this time she reached for Rachel’s hand. “Your pop and I wouldn’t be opposed to such a thing … in case you wondered. We’ll help him turn ’round right … Plain and all.”

Still, Rachel remained speechless, motionless. Philip had said good-bye already. Why on earth had he come back?

Walking hand in hand with Annie, he hurried over to the buggy. “I’ve been waiting for you, Rachel,” he said, the biggest smile on his handsome face.

“Mamma … look who’s here!” Annie said, grinning and showing her missing tooth.

Rachel set her gaze on his countenance, the first time she’d seen him up close. Her eyes followed his hairline, took in the rich hues of his thick dark hair, his cheekbones and fine nose, his mouth. Philip was a treat for the eyes, all right, but it was his spirit that had attracted her first of all. She would never forget that.

“We’ll be goin’ inside now,” Mam said loud enough for all to hear, ’specially Annie, who didn’t take too kindly to the idea. But she went anyway.

Dat dallied a few seconds longer, tying up the horse. Then he skedaddled off, without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

“Rachel?” Philip’s eyes searched hers, narrowing as in disbelief. “Can it be … that you can see?”

She nodded. “I didn’t know if it was wise to tell you before.”

Not waiting a second longer, he climbed into the buggy and found his way to her seat. “When did your sight return?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“While you were saying good-bye. It took me by surprise, I must say … that’s why I kept my back to you … didn’t tell you.”

His smile was warm and earnest. “I wondered why, but I understand now.”

“Why did you come back?”

“Because … I love you, Rachel. I couldn’t leave without telling you.” He reached for her mittened hands. “I’ve loved you ever since our first day together … in Reading.”

She gazed on him, beginning to tremble, not with fear but emotion. “But how can this ever be?”

“I want to be Amish, Rachel. I want to live the simple life … with you and Annie.”

She knew if she tried to speak, the words would come out too squeaky … too high. She fought back the tears—swallowing hard over the lump in her throat—her heart overjoyed.

“All my life,” Philip continued, “I’ve felt something was missing, Rachel. It was your lifestyle—your Lord—I was searching for.” His smile said more than a thousand words. “And I was looking for
you
.”

“Oh, Philip …” Rachel’s heart knew the answer before he ever posed the question, here under the covering of the winter sky and the carriage top. “
Ich liebe dich
, Philip—I love you, too!” She fell into his warm embrace, tears of happiness clouding her sight.

“I want to do things properly, according to your ways…. Should I ask your father for your hand?” Philip asked, all serious-like, as they gazed on each other’s faces.

She smiled at the notion. “The People don’t do that sort of thing, but if you want to, that’s just right fine.” And the more she thought on it, the more she realized Dat might honestly like the idea.

So Philip did just that, and Dat took to it with ever such delight, followed by Mam’s jovial well-wishing. Her father explained the rules of courtship, and when they told Annie the news, she jumped up and down for the longest time. But nobody seemed much annoyed by it, least of all Rachel and Philip.