The Revealing (35 page)

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it. If you are asking me to have a picnic, then you must, of course, choose when and where.” He was inviting
her
—he must remember that.

Jimmy had, of course, expected Bethany to make the picnic. She realized that the next day as they were sitting on the banks of Blue Lake Pond, eating peanut butter and sardine sandwiches on day-old bread. She nibbled on the corners of the unappetizing sandwich, smiling, pretending it was delicious.

From far away came a faint sound like old nails being pulled from new wood. Over the treetops flew a wedge of Canada geese, squawking and honking, heading toward the pond. They landed on the surface of the pond with such grace that it moved Bethany to a silent reverence.

Jimmy seemed slightly distracted as he took a bruised apple out of the basket and looked for a spot to bite into. His mind was somewhere else. Eventually he got around to what he wanted to say. “Are you seeing Jesse Stoltzfus’s cousin?”

“Who? Oh, Peter?”

“He’s been hanging around Eagle Hill.”

“He’s a very nice fellow.”

“Bethany, have I annoyed you lately? In a different way than usual?”

“No, of course not.” The warm wind kissed her face, fluttered the ends of her capstrings.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing I can recall. Why do you think you did?”

“I don’t know. You’re different. You don’t stop by Galen’s
when I’m over there with Lodestar. You didn’t make a picnic today. You don’t shoot sparks at me like you usually do. I wondered if you were trying to say something to me . . .”

Her eyes widened innocently. “Like what?”

He looked out at the lake, at two ducks paddling around. “Maybe . . . you’re interested in someone else. And I’ll admit the thought made me feel like a jellyfish without a backbone.”

The face she turned to him wore a polite expression. “You invited me to a picnic and I’m here. And I’m having a lovely time.”
Not really.

He brightened up at once. “A picnic made by my own two hands.” He winked at her and threw the sandwich into the lake so the ducks dove for it. “It’s just a feeling I’ve had lately . . .” He took her hands in his. “I wouldn’t want to ever lose you, Bethany. In fact, lately I’ve come to realize how very much you mean to me.”

Gone was the lighthearted banter, now he was being serious and caring. For a moment, Bethany swayed.
This
was the moment she’d been waiting for with him, the moment she had hoped for.

“I value you . . . Bethany . . . and I really do appreciate all you did to get Lodestar back and get Tobe set up to work with the chickens.”

There was a beat of silence and she looked at him expectantly, not helping him out.

“I think I’m ready to get engaged.”

I
value
you? I
think
I’m ready to get engaged? As if he was doing her a big favor? As if she was a broodmare he was thinking about buying?
Shootfire!
Her heart was pounding, a torrent of words was stuck in her throat, but she forced herself not to reply, not to reveal any hint of emotion. She
wanted
to throw the picnic basket at him, jump on the buggy, and gallop home, leaving the dense oaf to walk home. But she remained composed, cucumber calm.

He squeezed her hands. “Well, say something,” he said, anxious to know.

“I don’t have any words,” she said truthfully. None that were ladylike. None that would be found in
A Young Woman’s Guide
to Virtue
, Mammi Vera’s beloved book
.

“Yes would do.”

She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, under the circumstances. “I’ll need some time to think it over.”

Jimmy blinked. “Why is it so hard to answer now?”

“I’m quite happy with things the way they are,” she said, and to her surprise—her complete surprise—she truly was. “Marriage is such an important step—I want to make sure it’s the right decision.” Maybe Geena was right. Men were simple. And she would need to be equally simple in return. She shrugged. “Besides, what’s the rush? We have plenty of time.”

Gently, she slipped out of his grasp, rose, and walked toward the lake, tossing the peanut butter and sardine sandwich in bits to the hungry ducks, hoping it wouldn’t make them sick and die. She felt lighthearted, almost dreamy. Jimmy, she noticed, when she turned to face him, was sitting where she had left him, his thick, dark brows drawn together in a confused frown.

In a little under two weeks, Naomi King would become Mrs. Tobe Schrock. Her sisters were coming soon to help with wedding preparations, and then the quiet life she and Galen had shared would be over.

Tomorrow, Naomi’s sisters, both married with families of their own, would slide into the farmhouse and assume control: suggesting, helping, organizing, giving orders and instructions. Naomi felt a sense of overpowering relief that someone was taking charge. After all the waiting she and Tobe had done over the last eight months, their official wedding day was drawing near. Her heart tripped over itself and her skin flushed with excitement. Did every woman who got married go through this must-pinch-myself-to-believe-it stage? She felt so filled with joy and happiness, she could have burst with it.

And yet she felt a tinge of sadness too, knowing this was the last day she would have with her brother Galen. She worried about him, being alone, being lonely. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to separate Galen and Rose, but she hoped the frost might thaw between them. She wished Galen would talk to her about Rose, but he was a man who kept his business to himself, especially business of the heart.

Naomi was sewing the seams of her blue wedding dress and put it aside when she heard Tobe’s special rap on the door. In his arms was Sarah, sound asleep. He bent down to graze Naomi lightly on the lips, one kiss, two kisses, a smile, and then he passed the baby into her arms. He looked into her eyes with a combination of serious intensity and warmth. “Today’s the last day.”

How sweet! He had realized she was feeling sentimental about her last day she would be living with her brother.

“Today’s the last day before the bank is going to drill open the inactive safety deposit boxes.”

“Oh . . .” Surprise and deflation colored the single word. “But not really, right?”

“No, but Jake Hertzler doesn’t know that.” Tobe sat at the table and leaned on his elbows, hands grasped tightly together. “What if he doesn’t see the advertisement? He should have shown up by now.”

“Maybe he was having trouble locating Paisley and the safety deposit key. She sure did disappear.”

“What if he doesn’t show up today?”

Naomi sat next to him at the table, shifted Sarah into the crook of her arm, and covered his hands with her free one. “Then we do exactly what we’ve been doing. We leave Jake Hertzler in God’s hands.”

When Bethany arrived at the Sisters’ House for work on Friday morning, she found the sisters sitting around the dining room table, like they often were, having tea.

“Come in,” Sylvia said. “We’re all kerfuffled.”

“I never liked him,” Ella said.

“Who?” Bethany asked, but no one was listening.

“Now, we don’t know what the problem was,” Lena said.

“Maybe there wasn’t a problem,” Ada said. “Maybe he finished his work and had to leave.”

“Without a goodbye? Without a word to us?” Fannie said, clearly annoyed. “Without a single thank-you for all those weeks of room and board?”

“I never liked him,” Ella repeated.

Bethany picked up a pile of newspapers. “Who are you talking about?”

Fannie sighed. “Our fourteenth cousin twice removed. He left this morning.”

“Doesn’t he go out to do research each day?”

“Not that kind of left. Left, left. He’s gone.” Ada snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

Bethany stopped and turned. “Why?”

“We don’t know. He didn’t say a word. Ella heard him packing up before dawn. She went to see what the racket was all about and he just brushed past her, without a word.”

Ella nodded. “I never did like him.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bethany said. “Are you sure he’s really left? Maybe he just had someone he had to see.”

“Go see for yourself.”

Bethany went up to the second floor. The door to the guest room was wide open. She walked inside and caught a whiff of a familiar scent: Old Spice shaving cream. Unlike the one other time she had been in it, when it was a pigsty, the room was now empty. No garbage in the wastebasket, no clothes on the floor. No sign that anyone had been there. Only the bed was unmade and disheveled. She looked in the closet. Empty. She pulled open the dresser drawers. Empty. She noticed a silver wrapper on the floor and bent down to get it, sniffed it to see how fresh it was: it was unmistakably peppermint gum. Her mind started to race. She could feel her heart start to thump. She spotted something under the bedcovers. She shook out the sheets and a newspaper fell to the ground. She reached down, unfolded the newspaper—the
Stoney Ridge Times
—and felt a shiver run down her spine.

On the front page was the story about the York Savings & Loan, drilling into unclaimed safety deposit boxes and allowing the state to seize the contents. Her hands started to shake as awareness dawned on her. Fighting to control the tremors that shuddered through her, she made her way out of the room on shaky legs, then dropped on the top
of the stairs and sat down, holding her head in her hands. Thinking of that man in the same house with those five dear, defenseless sisters, for weeks now, made her feel as if she might throw up.

Jake Hertzler
was
the fourteenth cousin twice removed.

20

M
im took the broom from her mother and began pushing the dirt toward the corner of the porch.

“Are you feeling all right, Mim?”

Mim leaned on the broom with her cheek. Tears were in her eyes. “Mom, I’ve done something wrong.” The terrible sadness she felt nearly choked off her words.

Her mother took the broom from her and propped it against the wall. “Let’s sit down.”

They sat on the porch swing and, very simply, Mim began to tell the story about Mrs. Miracle. At no stage did her mother’s face look anything except sympathetic. It registered no shock, no disbelief. She seemed to take it all in and to realize the enormity without resorting to panic.

Cold shot through Mim’s insides. She put her fingertips against her mouth. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Her mother nodded. “Well, I’ve suspected for a while.”

“But . . . how?” She had been so careful, so surreptitious.

“It wasn’t hard to figure it out.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought it would fizzle out, just like the letters to the
inn fizzled after the bishop had you take down the ‘
Miracula fieri hic
’ phrase on the Inn at Eagle Hill sign. I didn’t realize the column was having such an impact until just recently. I’ve been hearing a lot of murmuring about the advice Mrs. Miracle gave out. Good advice.” She smiled at Mim. “To be perfectly honest, I could see that you were gaining confidence in yourself and so I let it be. I put that above the rightness or wrongness of the column. I made a mistake, I think.”