The Revealing (34 page)

Having Brooke Snyder stay in the guest flat for a steady few weeks certainly helped Rose pay some basic bills, but
there were always unexpected expenses. A lamb that had to be treated for colic, Sammy needed to go to the dentist for an aching tooth, Mim needed new glasses, Sarah needed her newborn checkups. Rose still hadn’t brought up Paisley’s hospital bills to the deacon. Soon, though.

Rose looked over the vegetable garden, now planted for summer’s bounty. She felt a deep satisfaction in watching things grow. As a child, she had worked alongside her mother to prepare seedbeds, till the garden, plant and tend crops, and harvest fruit and vegetables at the optimal time. They harvested more fruit than they could haul to market, and nearly everything on her table came from her family’s farm: cheese and sausage, bread and eggs and jam, apples and peaches and corn.

She scooped up a handful of dirt. This was how her mother had started. Year after year, her mother had added to the garden plot, until her father finally gave up on wheat and corn and became a full-time fruit and vegetable farmer. There was always a need for lettuce and carrots and onions and zucchini and pumpkins and strawberries.

She walked past the garden, past the barn, to a neglected section that once housed a pigpen. Perhaps . . . she could do what her mother did. Perhaps . . .
this
might be a potential source of additional income.

If she could turn the pigpen into a garden, she could double the size of her output and start to sell produce at a roadside stand. Or maybe even at the Stoney Ridge Farmers’ Market where Bethany used to work.

She should get the pigpen plowed under before spring was too far gone. Tobe could do it, but she wanted him to focus on the baby and not have an excuse to leave her care to oth
ers. She thought about asking Galen, but that wouldn’t be right. Then she saw David Stoltzfus’s buggy drive along the road. “Any time you need any help, just ask,” he had told her at church on Sunday. Anytime.

She dropped her handful of dirt and watched it scatter in the wind. Why, now was a time she needed a little extra man’s help. She tucked a lock of loose hair back under her prayer cap, straightened her apron, pinched her cheeks, and headed over to David Stoltzfus’s.

Jimmy stopped by the Kings’ every day to check on Lodestar. When he first saw the horse, the day Bethany had given him the good news, he had been shocked at his weakened appearance. If Jimmy had happened across Jake Hertzler that day, he didn’t know what he might have done to him—so severe was Lodestar’s neglect. The thought disturbed him, knowing he could harm another man. And yet to see Lodestar’s condition was even more disturbing. Another week alone, hobbled, without food or water, and that beautiful animal might have suffered a lonely, painful death.

Galen thought it would be best to keep Lodestar at his barn in a big box stall and Jimmy heartily agreed. Galen’s barn was more secure than the small Fisher barn. Though Lodestar didn’t seem at all interested in escaping. Just the opposite. He stayed at the back of the stall and only seemed interested in food, not in people. But he was making progress. His ribs were already starting to fill out, his eyes looked brighter, he held his head up again. The vet said it might take months to fully recover, that stress can have a very negative effect on an animal, but he was cautiously optimistic. “He was rescued
in the nick of time,” the vet told Jimmy, who told Bethany, who said it was meant to be, and that it proved everything happened for a reason. She had a gleam in her eye when she said it too, which made his throat tighten and his palms sweat.

“First things first,” he had told her. “Lodestar needs time and attention to mend properly.”

At that, she gave him a probing look, one he couldn’t read. It set off that panicky feeling deep within him again.

After Jimmy spent time grooming Lodestar, he led him into an outdoor paddock for a little fresh air and sunshine. He stayed nearby, leaning his back against the paddock, boot heel resting on the lowest rung, so he could observe Galen working in the round training pen. Galen was constantly improvising and trying new things, customizing training to the individual needs of the horses. Jimmy didn’t want to miss a trick. He was
that
eager for Tobe and Naomi to hurry up and marry so he could retire as a chicken boss and resume his position as Galen’s partner in horse training.

On this breezy May afternoon, Galen was in the pen with a newly purchased bay Thoroughbred, a gelding with intelligent eyes. Jimmy walked over to the pen, keeping one eye peeled on Lodestar.

“Want to see my new business card?” He pulled one from his pocket and handed it to Galen.

Galen peered at it. “You’re calling yourself a stallion manager?”

“That’s what I am. I manage a stallion.” He glanced at Lodestar, who was stretching his neck to crop new grass near the paddock gate.

“That title usually indicates a knowledgeable, experienced horseman.”

“Exactly.”

“Is that so?” Galen handed him back the business card. “So do you have better odds pasture-breeding or with artificial help?”

“Artificial help.”

“Wrong.” He raised an eyebrow. “A healthy mare can call the shots a lot better than a human can.” He flicked the whip to keep the horse loping. “Can you keep stallions together in a pasture?”

Jimmy sneered. “Of course not.”

“Wrong again. Horses aren’t territorial. As long as there aren’t any mares or foals nearby, they don’t fight over real estate—only females.” He gave Jimmy
the look
—the one that made him feel like he was a dense child. “Maybe you want to hold on to those cards a little longer.”

Jimmy tucked the business card into his pocket. “Speaking of being territorial, have you noticed David Stoltzfus hanging around Eagle Hill like a summer cold? Something happen between you and Rose?”

“None of your business.”

“He’s over there right now, plowing up the old pigpen. Folks say he’s got Rose marked off with a red flag.”

Galen’s whole body drew taut and he eyed Jimmy askance. “I suppose you believe everything you hear?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Galen had already set his mind on the next task: shaking a plastic milk jug partially filled with gravel at the horse to accustom him to unexpected sounds. Jimmy had always been impressed with Galen’s ability to focus. He had never been good at getting his mind to consider two facts at once, much less two big facts. He saw Lodestar mouthing the paddock
latch and then unhook it. He ran over to stop him, a big grin on his face. He’d been looking for some sign of bluster from Lodestar, some hint of his uppity nature. His horse was on the way back. Truly back.

Jimmy noticed Bethany across the top of the privet at Eagle Hill, smiled to himself, and reflected that she was a remarkable girl. Against impossible odds, she had found Lodestar. She had thought up a plan to help him get out of the chicken business, which he hated, and back to the horse business, which he loved. He owed a great deal to Bethany.

Yes, she was a truly remarkable girl. She was beautiful, sweet one minute, strong and fiery the next. A fellow would never get bored with a girl like Bethany at his side.

What was he waiting for? He knew she was impatient, eager for him to propose. He decided to bring up the subject soon, maybe the next time he took her for a buggy ride to Blue Lake Pond. He exhaled, a matter decided.

Then he spotted Peter Stoltzfus, cousin to the town menace Jesse Stoltzfus, walk toward the Eagle Hill farmhouse. Bethany met him at the bottom porch step and she laughed at something he said. The sight and sound of it disturbed him, and he was annoyed at himself for being disturbed.

Mim was walking home from the Sisters’ House, past the nearly-falling-down barn, when she heard some loud whoops and shouts coming from the barn. She saw three boys climbing on the roof, trying to reach the peak, egging each other on. Boys she recognized. Luke, Mose Blank . . . led by Jesse Stoltzfus.

“First one to the top wins!” Jesse shouted.

One loud crack filled the air, then another sound of creaking timber, and another. Seconds passed. Suddenly the boys disappeared in a blur of motion as the barn roof collapsed. The moment lasted forever. Too scared to move, Mim gave a piercing shriek that rent the afternoon air.

She raced like the wind to get to Eagle Hill, sprinting past the schoolhouse and through Amos Lapp’s cornfield and jumping across the creek to reach the shortcut to the farm. The first person she spotted was David Stoltzfus, starting to plow one row of the old pigpen.

“They’re dead!” she shouted to him, waving her arms. “Luke and Mose and Jesse! They’re all dead!”

David dropped the plow behind the mule and ran to her. “Calm down, Mim, and tell me what happened.”

“The nearly-falling-down barn fell down! The boys were trying to climb to the top and it collapsed on them.”

Together they ran toward the accident, expecting the worst.

As they arrived at the now-fallen-down barn, Jesse and Luke were climbing out of the debris, dusting off their clothes, grinning and laughing like they were at a Sunday picnic. Mose sat on a rock, holding up his elbow with one hand. His other hand dangled at an odd angle.

It was a fine day for the turning of the sod. Bethany smiled to herself as she saw Amos Lapp and Galen King put their hands together on the shovel and dig into the ground of one of the small garden plots at the Second Chance Gardens behind the Grange Hall. Geena Spencer asked Bishop Elmo if he wanted to say a few words about the results that came from a caring community.

Oh, big mistake!
The bishop ended up saying a great many words. He had a habit, when he spoke, of clasping his hands at his spine and rocking back on his heels. When he did, his black shoes would squeak. They squeaked now as he rocked repeatedly, lifting his face to the sky while composing his words.

When Elmo finally wrapped it up, Geena took command, dividing Amish and wayward girls from the Group Home into groups to work together, giving them lists of chores. It was remarkable how much authority a relatively small woman like her could possess, and Bethany admired her tremendously.

All throughout the day, Bethany and Jimmy worked companionably on the garden plots. Toward the end of the day, when normally she might have lingered and ended up going home in Jimmy’s buggy—via a stop at Blue Lake Pond—she pondered what to do. Should she stay or leave early? Hard though it was to do, she excused herself and said goodbye.

“You’re leaving now?” Jimmy said, surprised and bothered. His disappointment was honey to her soul.

“I have a few things to take care of,” she said. And she was gone.

The next day, he was thoroughly put out. “Are you going to keep running away all the time? I was hoping we could plan a picnic.”

Big eyes wide, she said that honestly she was sorry . . . she just had a lot of things to do lately. But, of course, she would be delighted to have a meal with him sometime . . .

There was a silence. Jimmy went on to fill it.

“I thought you might arrange it,” he said.

In the old days, like every day up to this minute, Bethany would have immediately made plans and offered to prepare
a picnic and tell Jimmy what time to pick her up. This time she made no such offer. He reached for her hands, but she pulled them away.