Lenora Worth - Their Amish Reunion

Beth swallowed and held on to the weathered fence post. “He drowned down in the creek.”

Jeremiah flinched and closed his eyes. “How? He was a fair swimmer.”

“He went in after a trapped calf and, from what the sheriff could put together, he must have fallen and hit his head. They found a deep gash over his left temple. He was knocked out and went underwater. Just a foot or so of water.”

Jeremiah hit a hand against the fence, causing the old wood to crack. Beth stepped back, shock in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a gravelly whisper, his heart rate accelerating. “I...I had to learn to swim one thousand yards in twenty minutes and to hold my breath for at least two minutes underwater. I mastered scuba diving, underwater demolition and swimming for miles at a time. I could have... I could have saved him.”

Beth’s expression filled with shock at what he’d blurted out, but she shook her head, a hand on his arm. “You weren’t here, Jeremiah. And even if you had been, the fall caused him to go underwater. No amount of training or ability can change that.”

“I should have been here,” Jeremiah said, the rage at what he’d done bubbling up inside of him. “I should have been here.”

He tried to move away but Beth held him still. “If you had been here, you would have been married to Ava Jane, and Jacob would have been somewhere else that day.”

“Ja,” he said, nodding in a rapid-fire gesture of anger. “Exactly.”

Then he did pull away, leaving his confused, frightened sister to stare after him.

If he’d been here, everything would have been different.

But now that he was back, so many things had changed forever.

Chapter Five

A week later, Jeremiah stood in the hardware aisle at Hartford’s General Store when Ava Jane came in, carrying a basket of muffins. Everyone praised her muffins and pastries, and he noticed Mr. Hartford kept a supply in stock at the store, which meant she was earning money by selling them there. Jeremiah had bought a couple. Good, sturdy muffins full of oatmeal, nuts and fruits. Carrot muffins, banana muffins, pumpkin, too. He even got ahold of a zucchini one and he didn’t even like zucchini.

No fancy cupcakes for Ava Jane. She believed in hearty, stick-to-the-ribs food.

He watched now as she smiled shyly while Mr. Hartford bragged about her cooking skills to a couple of giggly female tourists out for a day of “experiencing all things Amish.”

Ava Jane listened and smiled and answered their questions with grace and patience. After the women bought a bagful of the baked goods right out of her basket, Mr. Hartford took the rest and placed them near the register.

Then Ava Jane turned to shop, her eyes meeting Jeremiah’s, her serene smile fading into a wisp of air.

He caught up with her in the produce aisle, where tender seedling plants lined the bins near the fresh produce. “Hi.”

“Hello, Jeremiah,” she said, her dainty hand patting her bonnet. “How are you?”

“Gut,” he said. “Just gathering some supplies to fix things around the place.”

Sympathy colored her eyes a sad blue. “It must be hard, seeing your daed like this. He was such a fine, strong man. I’m so sorry.”

Jeremiah had to swallow the lump in his throat. “He hasn’t woken once since I’ve been home. I talk to him but...”

“He hears you,” she said, something shifting in her attitude, her eyes softening, almost as if a wall had crashed down around her. “He hears you. It’s gut you came home.”

“Is it?” he asked, wishing it so. Wishing he could have come home to friendly greetings and a welcoming community. Everyone tolerated him, but Jeremiah wasn’t sure he’d ever belong here again. The bishop and the ministers and the deacons were all probably shaking their heads about what to do with him.

He had to stay on course, stay on the straight and narrow. Surprisingly, his military training was coming in handy. He could focus. He could go into a zone and see things through to the finish. Because he wanted this now as much as he’d wanted that then.

He prayed every night. He prayed while he sat with his father. He prayed when he looked into Ava Jane’s eyes.

Ava Jane looked shocked at his question. “It can be good, ja. Isn’t that why you came back? To make things right again?”

He nodded and wished he could snap his fingers and fix everything. But the bishop had warned him this would be a long, hard journey. “I have a lot of work to do yet,” he said. “I guess I’d better get going.”

“Not all of your work will be out in the fields, Jeremiah,” she said. Could she see into his heart?

He nodded, understanding. He had a lot to work through and most of it revolved around his feelings for her.

He was almost to the door when Mr. Hartford called out to him. “Jeremiah, you’ve been doing a lot of carpentry work since you returned. Ava Jane was just asking me yesterday about someone to help repair her back porch. What did you say, Ava Jane? A couple of rotten boards?”

Ava Jane turned pale, panic frozen on her face. Mr. Hartford had no idea about her relationship with Jeremiah. “It’s nothing, really. I can find someone else. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

“I don’t mind,” Jeremiah said, sending Mr. Hartford a nod. “I’ll come by later this week to see what needs to be done,” he said to Ava Jane. “If that’s all right with you.”

She lowered her head and fidgeted with her apron. “That is fine. Mamm has been complaining about it and Daed keeps forgetting to fix it. Besides, I try to do things on my own and not run to my parents for every little thing.”

Jeremiah’s heart hurt for her. A woman alone with two growing children, trying to keep things together. She probably got up early to get her baking done.

“You don’t have to run to anyone,” he said. “I’ll be by to look at your porch first thing next week.”

He turned to leave before she could tell him no.

* * *

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny with a slight crispness in the wind. But springtime freshness filled that same wind with various scents rising up: herbs and baked bread, bacon frying, the earthy scents of hay and animals and trees blossoming.

Ava Jane stood at her favorite spot in front of the kitchen sink, where the view of the valley and the water beyond always took her breath away. The sun peeked out over the rolling hills and winked through the newly budding trees. She remembered so many mornings waking up to this. Jacob would come up behind her and tug her close, his chin against her hair.

The water reminded her of two men. Jacob and Jeremiah. In a way, she’d lost them both to water.

Dear Father, how do I remember one when I’m trying to forget the other?

Ava Jane finished washing the breakfast dishes and called to the kinder, “Kumm.”

Sarah Rose came rushing down the stairs, chattering like a magpie. “Eli won’t hurry, Mamm. He’s got one boot on and one in his hand. His hair needs combing—”

“Stop spluttering so,” Ava Jane said with a smile. “Eli, what’s taking so long?”

Her son seemed to move at a slow pace at times. He was a good boy but he did tend to get into trouble a lot.

She added one more prayer to her morning list. She needed strength to raise her children. Strength and wisdom and purpose. She needed to teach her kinder obedience first and foremost.

Her parents were so good with the children, but Ava Jane knew she had to be tough on them in order to teach them the right paths in life. Eli was a constant challenge and Sarah Rose had a strong-willed personality.

Ava Jane might have softened since Jacob’s death but she was gaining strength every day. Hadn’t she managed to be kind to Jeremiah the other day at the general store?