The Forgiven Read online

  Rebecca blinked back a quick surge of tears. It had been close to eighteen months since Paul’s death. She’d managed to reply calmly enough to Matt’s sympathy, so why did she now struggle with tears at the mention of Paul’s name? But even tears were easier than the panic she sometimes felt at the idea of going on without him.

  Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to concentrate. It was a good thing that she had this chore to occupy her today. If Matt returned to renew his offer, she wouldn’t be there to face him.

  “I’ve been thinking about how to go about it. Maybe we should just sort things out first,” she said. “Papers in one area, furniture in another, quilts and such-like elsewhere.”

  Barbie, apparently regaining her normal good humor, nodded. “Okay. I’ll move the furniture.”

  Barbie headed for a rickety spinning wheel that leaned against the eight-paned window. The spring sunshine slanting through the glass glistened on a silvery cobweb on the wheel, as if in mute memory of the yarn that had once been spun on it. The cobweb itself was a testament to how much Grossmammi had been failing in recent months. She’d always kept the attic as spotless as if church were going to be held there.

  Rebecca turned her attention to a row of chests and boxes. She and Judith knelt beside the largest one, lifting the heavy lid together. Under cover of its creak, Judith spoke.

  “How are you really, Rebecca? And the kinder?”

  “The little ones are fine.” It was easier to talk about her children than herself. “Katie understands better, I think. She still misses her daadi.”

  No point in saying that seven-year-old Katie’s attempts to hide her longing left Rebecca feeling helpless.

  “As for Joshua . . .” She hesitated. “He’s a dreamer, like Paul was. I’m never sure what he’s thinking.” Had he believed her yesterday, when she’d told him the man he’d seen was Matt? She still wasn’t sure.

  Shaking her head, Rebecca lifted out a quilt, carefully wrapped in paper to preserve it, while Judith pulled out a bundle of letters tied with a length of yarn.

  They worked in silence side by side for a few minutes. Rebecca knew she should ask about Judith’s family, but she was afraid her voice might betray her. Judith’s family was still complete—she had someone to support and comfort her, someone to share the burdens and the joys of raising the kinder, someone to love forever.

  Not that Rebecca would ever stop loving Paul. But . . .

  “I heard from your mamm that you’re trying to decide whether to open the farm to visitors for the summer.” Judith’s tone was neutral, but her expression was wary, leading Rebecca to suspect that her mother had aired all her worries about Rebecca to Judith.

  “Thinking, that’s all.” She paused, smoothing her hand over a log cabin quilt. “I wish I knew what was best to do. The farm-stay was Paul’s dream, and he was so excited about it.”

  Paul had had so many dreams—the farm-stay, filling their large farmhouse with kinder, expanding beyond the simple truck farming they did to a dairy operation, raising the purebred draft horses he loved. It was hard to make a living farming without some sideline, and Paul had had such enthusiasm.

  Rebecca might not be able to raise the horses or give him more children, but she could honor Paul by opening the farm-stay for the summer, if she had the courage. It was too bad that the very thought of entertaining strangers left her feeling dizzy.

  “Surely Paul would not have expected you to carry on without him.” Judith’s tone was gentle. “He was good at greeting Englischers and making them feel at home. It was his gift.”

  “And it’s not mine. Is that what you mean?” The edge was back in Rebecca’s voice, and she was ashamed of it. She shook her head quickly, before Judith could respond. “Ach, you’re right. I would rather just cook the breakfasts and change the beds.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Judith pointed out. “It was important to the visitors, ain’t so?”

  “Ja, but I have the kinder to support by myself, and I’m not sure about doing it.” Her unconscious echo of what Matt had said to her brought his face back to her thoughts, and she brushed him away like she would shoo a fly.

  “Your mamm and daad would love to have you move back in with them,” Judith pointed out.

  Pressing her lips together, Rebecca shook her head. Much as she loved her parents and appreciated their support, she would not move away from the home she and Paul had shared.

  “I can handle things myself.” Rebecca suspected she sounded like little Katie in one of her stubborn moods. She drew a small dower chest toward her, trying to focus on it. It was time to change the subject.

  A screech sounded as Barbie moved a chest of drawers, drawing their attention to her. “Do you know what these yellow stickers mean on some of the furniture?” she asked.

  Judith smiled, probably at the streak of dust adorning their young cousin’s cheek. “Grossmammi mentioned that we might sell some pieces—the ones she has marked. We could . . .”

  “Sell?” Rebecca’s stomach seemed to turn over. “Why would she want to sell anything?” She put her hand protectively on the trunk in front of her. “These are family pieces.”

  Barbie made a face. “But who would want them? If I ever settle down in a home of my own, I’ll want all new things.”

  “It’s only the items no one in the family has a use for,” Judith said, her voice soothing.

  Rebecca’s heart rebelled. “How can Grossmammi think of selling pieces of our family history?” Grossmammi, who always talked to her of the value of learning from those who’d gone before the current generation?

  “I’m sure she’d let you have anything you want . . .” Judith began, but she let the words die out when Rebecca shook her head.

  Her world was changing, and she couldn’t stop it. Somehow she had to adjust, or—or what?

  Rebecca closed the lid of the dower box. The attic seemed to lose its air. She couldn’t stay here and dismantle her family’s roots. Not when the ground was so shaky under her feet already.

  Snatching up the box, Rebecca scrambled to her feet. “I . . . I’ll take this home to sort.”

  She spun toward the attic stairs, aware of her cousins’ faces, eyes wide, staring at her. Grasping the railing, she stumbled down the steps, wishing she could run away from her fears as easily.

  CHAPTER TWO

  By the time Rebecca stopped at her parents’ house to pick up the kinder, she’d managed to collect her ragged emotions. These periods of feeling overwhelmed surely would end soon, wouldn’t they?

  Or was this a lack of faith on her part? As always when she felt distressed, Rebecca let her gaze rest on the ridge above the farm. The pines and hemlocks formed dark green shadows, seeming even denser as the sun began to slip behind the ridge, painting the clouds in shades of blue and purple.

  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills; from whence cometh my help? The psalmist answers quickly. My help cometh from the Lord, who made Heaven and earth.

  She had always found comfort in that knowledge. She had to believe that God had not forsaken her, even though sometimes she felt so desperately alone.

  Rebecca drew the buggy horse up at the hitching rail by the back porch. Katie and Josh were playing ball in the backyard with two of her brothers, twenty-one-year-old Simon and her next brother, sixteen-year-old Johnny.

  “Mammi, Mammi, I hit the ball!” Josh came running, forsaking the game in his eagerness to tell her.

  Even as Rebecca was hugging him, she saw Katie smack the softball Simon had lobbed to her. It sailed over Johnny’s head.

  “That’s great.” Rebecca suppressed a twinge of guilt that it hadn’t occurred to her to play ball with the kinder. “Your onkels must be gut teachers.”

  Simon grinned. “You taught me, Beck. Don’t you remember?”

  “A looong
time ago,” she said, smiling back at him. Simon would always be her little brother, no matter how tall he got. She turned back to her son. “Where’s Grossmammi?”

  “She didn’t want to play ball,” Josh announced, his tone suggesting surprise that anyone wouldn’t want to do so. “We made cookies together, and she’s cleaning up.”

  Rebecca ruffled his silky hair. “You go back to your game then, and I’ll help her.”

  Joshua ran to the others, and she stood smiling for a moment as Johnny grabbed him and tickled him. They were fortunate to live right next door to her family, so that her little ones didn’t suffer from a lack of male influence in their lives. And when her grossmammi moved in with Rebecca’s folks, there’d be yet another generation close at hand.

  The scent of snickerdoodles reached Rebecca even before she stepped into the kitchen, and her mamm turned from the sink, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

  “Back already? I was sure you’d get caught up in all the treasures in your grossmammi’s attic.”

  “There’s plenty to be done, that’s certain-sure.” Rebecca felt obscurely guilty for having come away early. “Grossmammi was fretting over not being allowed to go up to the attic and supervise.”

  The doctor had forbidden much stair climbing, saying once a day was plenty for the time being, but getting someone as strong-willed as Elizabeth Lapp to listen was another story.

  “Ach, I wish she’d chust move in here and let the rest of us worry about clearing the house out.” Mamm’s round, cheerful face clouded. “The room is ready for her, and it would be no trouble at all.”

  The welcome was genuine. So far as Rebecca knew, Mamm had always gotten along well with her mother-in-law. Still, though Mamm had a strong-willed streak of her own, it was nothing compared to Elizabeth’s. It would be interesting to see how the two of them fared, living in the same house.

  “We may as well let her do it her way.” Rebecca tried to soothe her mother’s ruffled feelings. “She will anyway.”

  “And what is to stop your grossmammi from going up those attic steps after you girls are gone?” Mamm demanded. “It would be just like her.”

  “She won’t have a chance,” Rebecca said. “We took the only key, and Judith will make sure the attic door is locked when she and Barbie leave.” She followed the smell of cinnamon to the cooling racks and broke off a piece of cookie, aware of her mother’s questioning look.

  “You came away early, did you?”

  Rebecca tried not to meet her eyes. “Just a little before the other two. I brought a chest of letters and books home with me to sort out. I can work on it this evening after the little ones are in bed.”

  “If you were worrying about getting home to the kinder, you know it’s a joy for us to have them here,” her mother said. “In fact, your daad and I would like nothing better than to have the three of you move in. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know.” Rebecca gave her mother a quick hug. “But we’re fine where we are. As close as we are, it’s almost like living together. Besides, once Grossmammi moves in, you’ll have a houseful.”

  “There can’t be too many people in the house for me,” her mother declared. “I love having plenty of people to cook for and look after. Besides, as serious as Simon seems to be getting over Mary Ann King, it might not be too much longer before he’s wanting to set up on his own.”

  “Really? Simon married?” Rebecca couldn’t help the note of surprise in her voice. Not that there was anything wrong with Mary Ann, she supposed, barring a little immaturity. Still, she probably wouldn’t think anyone was quite good enough for her little brother.

  Mamm nodded, frowning slightly. “He seems taken with her, and she is a pretty girl. A bit silly, I’ve always thought, but if it doesn’t bother him I have nothing to say about it.”

  Rebecca couldn’t help laughing at that comment. “Mamm, you know perfectly well you’ll tell him what you think. And her, too, most likely.”

  Mamm’s cheeks, already rosy from the heat of the oven, got a bit redder. “Ach, I do try not to say everything that comes into my head.”

  “I know, Mamm. I know.” Rebecca gave her another quick hug. “I’d better round up the young ones and get on home. Is tomorrow afternoon all right for you to watch them again?”

  “For sure. The sooner you girls get that job done, the better. Josh and I will walk down and meet Katie after school.” Mamm scurried to the counter and grasped a basket, thrusting it at Rebecca. “Chicken potpie and the children’s cookies,” she said by way of explanation. “You can chust heat up the potpie for your supper. You’ll be tired after working in that crowded attic all afternoon.”

  “Denke, Mamm.” She wouldn’t argue, late as it was getting. “I’ll see if I can’t get through that chest after I put Katie and Josh to bed. That’s the kind of thing that’s going to take the most time in sorting.”

  “I suppose.” Her mother sounded doubtful, and Rebecca suspected that she, like Barbie, would have made a clean sweep if it were up to her.

  Fortunately it wasn’t. Grossmammi had chosen Rebecca for this job, and she was determined to do it right. With a wave and smile for her mother, Rebecca headed out the back door. Katie and Joshua were reluctant to leave their game, but they must have been tired after all their activities at their grandparents’ house, because they scrambled into the buggy rather than racing across the field for home.

  Once she’d unharnessed the buggy horse and stabled her, there was the usual flurry of evening chores to do and supper to get on the table. Rebecca was glad of the potpie to make that part of the day easier.

  Sitting around the table, just the three of them, could seem a little lonely without Paul’s presence, and she made an effort to keep both the kinder talking. Supper had always been a time to catch up on what each one had done that day, and she couldn’t let that custom die out.

  For once neither of the kinder made any of their usual spirited efforts to avoid bedtime. Once she’d read their stories and listened to their prayers, Rebecca slipped away, leaving their bedroom door ajar so she’d hear any cry in the night.

  She paused for a moment on the top landing, taking a mental inventory of the other bedrooms. If she intended to open for the summer, she ought to be getting them ready. If . . .

  Pushing the thought away to be dealt with later, she went downstairs.

  She’d found this the hardest part of the day since Paul was gone, and it didn’t seem to be getting any easier. The house was too quiet with the children in bed and asleep. At moments like this her parents’ offer seemed very tempting. At least there she’d have company.

  No. This was their home, and they would stay in it. It would feel like a betrayal of Paul to move. Her thoughts flitted to that surprising offer from Matt Byler. Accepting it would help matters financially for sure, but still, she doubted the wisdom of it. Doubted him, more likely.

  Switching on the gaslight in the living room, Rebecca glanced at the small dower chest, still on the table where she’d put it earlier. She should get busy sorting the contents. That would fill the time until she was tired enough to sleep, wouldn’t it?

  Once, this had been her favorite time of the day instead of the most difficult. She would sit in her chair with a basket of hand sewing next to her, while Paul occupied the corner of the sofa closest to the lamp, reading the newspaper. Sometimes he’d read out an interesting article to her.

  There had been nothing exciting or special about those evenings. They hadn’t even needed to talk, and she’d been happy—the house quiet, the kinder asleep upstairs, and the man she loved close enough that she could put out her hand and touch him. That had been true happiness.

  Shaking her head as if that would chase away the thoughts, Rebecca pulled the small chest toward her and lifted the lid. Work was the only cure for what ailed her.

  The dower chest was packed
to the brim with old letters, newspaper clippings, and several small books, their covers faded, which seemed to be diaries. Rebecca sorted through a few clippings, most of which were recipes. These could be safely thrown away, she thought.

  She picked up the top diary, looking inside the front cover for a name. Anna Esch. Rebecca frowned. Esch. This didn’t belong to someone in the direct family line, it seemed. Possibly the diary wouldn’t be worth saving, but she’d have to read a bit of it before she’d feel all right disposing of it.

  Flipping it open at random, she began to skim, half expecting a routine telling of the day’s activities or an account of the weather. But there was nothing routine about the words the unknown Anna had penned. They caught Rebecca’s imagination, pulling her in, and she turned to the beginning, settled back in the rocking chair, and began to read.

  People say that we will soon be at war. . . .

  Lancaster County, November 1941

  Anna Esch put down her pencil and stared at the sentence she’d just written.

  In all her eighteen years, she’d never seen words so frightening. War. The Amish, raised from birth on stories of their ancestors who’d been martyred for their adherence to Jesus’ teachings, clung ever more tightly to their belief in nonviolence. Surely a war in far-off Europe, terrible as it was, couldn’t touch them here in peaceful Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

  Anna moved to the window, peering out. She couldn’t see anyone in the November dark, but she raised the window a couple of inches, letting in the chill air. Late as it was, Jacob must not be coming tonight.

  Even as she thought it, the clear warble of a bobwhite floated through the night air. Anna’s heart leaped. She waved, sliding the window down, knowing that Jacob, her come-calling friend, could see her standing there in the light cast by the kerosene lamp.

  Grabbing the heavy black sweater that lay over the back of her chair, Anna pulled it on, buttoning it over her gray dress. She eased the bedroom door open and peeked out to make sure no one was in the hall. Seth, her year-younger brother, wouldn’t give her away, but the younger ones might call out if they spotted her, making Mammi and Daadi aware she was moving around.