A Courtship for the Amish Spinster, page 16
Her family loved her dearly.
Her schweschdern were her best friends.
But when had someone looked so excited to see her? As soon as she climbed out of the buggy, Josh threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a gigantic hug before dancing away and saying, “We are going to find the best seats ever!”
Before she could respond, he dashed off to see Mary and Lydia.
Zeb simply reached for her hand. “Ready?”
“Oh, ya. I believe I am.”
And then her schweschdern and bruders-in-law and nieces and nephews and even her father, they all walked together, out to the main road, jostling and laughing. Eunice realized in that moment that one significant thing had changed in her journey. She no longer felt on the outside of things.
She no longer felt like the odd woman out. She knew that it didn’t take falling in love to feel like a part of a group. No, this went deeper. She’d purposely kept herself apart from others, maybe because she was shy or maybe because she was uncertain how to express herself in a group. Now, though, she felt no need to express herself or fit in.
And so she did. She smiled, showing she was feeling warm and content. She laughed. She scooched in with the group, Zeb on one side, Ada on the other. Eunice joined the others as they all clapped and whistled and cheered the floats that came down the road spreading their message of the sacred season.
Eunice thought that maybe it was a perfect night.
Maybe even better than their first date had been.
And she reveled in this new and exciting time in her life.
Zeb insisted on driving her home, though she could have ridden with a family member. Josh had fallen asleep in the back seat. When they turned into the lane, he called softly to the mare so that she stopped well before they reached the house. Turning to her, he said, “I care about you very much, Eunice.” And then he’d gently, sweetly kissed her again.
And Eunice was willing to believe that this was the real thing. That Zeb was the man she’d been waiting for. She walked up the porch steps in something of a daze. It was only a second date. That’s what she told herself as she said good night to her father, made her way upstairs, prepared for bed. But when she fell into another deep sleep, she was again in the field of corn, and this time she wasn’t alone.
* * *
Zeb had the feeling that things were moving quickly. It was only a few weeks ago that his mamm had suggested he see a doctor. He’d taken Eunice out a total of four times now, if you included the Christmas parade, which he did. Four times did not sound like very much, but it seemed as if he’d known Eunice forever. He had known her nearly all of his life. And these new feelings—they felt right.
She was a bright woman. Kind. Beautiful.
Josh liked her—that was as plain as could be.
Zeb thought he might be falling in love. Could that even be possible? Was he betraying Suzanne? Was he sure? He wasn’t sure. So after the church service on Sunday, he sought out Ezekiel in order to have a few moments alone with the man.
The day was cold, but bright and sunny. They walked around the little pond behind the house on Huckleberry Lane. Since both Ethan and Aaron lived on the property, they hosted church services twice. It felt right to be back there again. This place—this family—was beginning to feel like home.
“Those King bruders have made a nice home, ya?”
“They have. Ethan and Aaron seem quite content.”
“Married to Bethany and Ada and three children between them.” There was a mischievous glint in Ezekiel’s eyes. “Gotte is good.”
“All the time,” Zeb said—the words automatic. It was something their community said. But he realized it was also something he believed. God was good. God had been good to him when He’d directed his path to merge with Suzanne’s, which had brought them Joshua. And now his path was going a different way.
“But it wasn’t always easy for Ethan and Aaron. They’ll tell you about their family, what they went through with their parents. Times were hard when they were young and even when they became adults. They weren’t sure that they could give a woman the things she needed or the things they felt she deserved.”
“It’s something I struggle with myself.”
“Is it now?” Ezekiel nodded as if he weren’t a bit surprised. “Doubt is okay, Zeb. It’s natural to have doubts. But in Christ we can have confidence.”
“It’s Josh I’m worried about. Will my feelings for Eunice confuse him?”
“Have you asked?”
“Nein. I haven’t. Seems a heavy topic for a five-year-old.”
“And yet, it’s important to share what’s in your heart, in a way that he will understand.”
“Right.”
They were at the far side of the pond now. Zeb could just make out the group moving in and out of the barn. He supposed the parents were checking on children, the children were playing games of tag, the youngies looked to be attempting a game of softball in the field though it was probably too cold for that.
“What else is on your mind?”
“Josh. Josh is always on my mind. Am I parenting him as I should? Would marrying again be the right move for him? Would he adjust to Eunice being his new mamm, and before you ask... I have not asked her. We’ve only been on four dates. Why am I even thinking this way? It seems too soon. Too fast.”
“Perhaps your thoughts are catching up with your heart.”
“Maybe.”
“May I speak frankly?” Ezekiel asked.
Ezekiel was the only bishop that Zeb had ever really known. The bishop in Lancaster was someone that he’d been polite to, but never really become close with. He’d never had a heart-to-heart discussion like this. Ezekiel had married Zeb’s parents. He’d probably been present at Zeb’s birth. He’d always been frank.
But Zeb nodded as if he were taking the question seriously. “Ya, ya. Of course you can.”
“Gotte has chosen you to raise this boy, Zeb. It’s a precious job—a higher calling. You can trust that Gotte will also equip you to do this very hard thing. He’s started already, by filling you with an unmeasurable love for Joshua.”
Zeb nodded, though a lump in his throat prevented him from speaking.
“Pray on this. Don’t be afraid to ask Gotte for His direction. Pray about Eunice, about your feelings for her, about your concern for Josh. You’ll know the right thing to do.”
It was exactly what Zeb needed to hear.
That night he spoke to Josh, told him that he cared for Eunice, asked for his opinion on their dating.
Josh said simply, “Ya. Cool.” Then he preceded to knock over his glass of milk and refuse to eat his vegetables. The first was an accident of course, the second not so much.
On Wednesday, he broke a vase in Becca’s house.
“You were told not to play ball inside, Josh.”
“Ya, but it’s always raining outside.”
The weather had turned. The temperatures were cold, but not cold enough to freeze the roads. The rain was constant and much drearier than a week of snow would have been.
On Thursday, Josh woke in a bad mood, refusing to cooperate at all with anything that Zeb asked him to do.
By Friday, he had a meltdown in the buggy on the way to Becca’s home. Zeb couldn’t cancel the tour, but he didn’t feel good leaving his son with Becca.
“We’ll be fine. Maybe he can rest and read a book.”
He didn’t rest, and he didn’t read a book. Instead, he snuck outside and refused to come in when called. Apparently, he’d been hiding behind the chicken coop.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” Zeb admitted to Eunice.
“Well. Maybe it’s normal for a boy his age.”
“Maybe. He acted this way after Suzanne died.”
“Is it coming up on the anniversary?”
“Nein. She passed in March.”
“Has anything else changed?”
They were once again standing in the kitchen as Becca served the guests hot drinks and cookies. It felt natural for him to be here with Eunice. It felt right.
“I tried to talk to him about us.”
“About us?” Her eyes widened. She stared at him, waiting, unable or unwilling to say the words for him.
“About how we feel about each other. At least, how I think we feel about each other.”
“Well—” Her cheeks flushed, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’ve enjoyed our dates.”
“But it feels like something more. Right? I’m not the only one who feels like this is going very fast?”
“This?”
“Our relationship. We seem to have gone from friends to...well, to something more in a very short amount of time.”
Eunice cleared her throat. “Sarah says it’s different for different people.”
“You’ve spoken to her? About us?”
“Yeah. I have.”
He reached for her hand, squeezed it, thought of kissing her. Which of course was when one of the tourists walked in looking for a refill on the coffee. Eunice helped him, and Zeb went in search of Josh who was supposed to be in Mary’s room but wasn’t. He finally found him in the buggy, lying in the back seat, throwing a tennis ball against the ceiling.
“Son, I’ve been calling you for twenty minutes.”
“Oh. Couldn’t hear you.”
“Couldn’t or didn’t want to?”
“What’s the difference?”
“We’ll talk about this more when we get home.”
“Whatever.”
Zeb felt as if he were talking to an antagonistic teenager. His son was five. Where had all of this attitude come from?
He spoke with Eunice on the phone the next day. “It pains me to say it, but perhaps we should put our dating on hold.”
“Okay.”
It was hard to guess exactly what she was thinking from one word. So, he asked. “Is it okay? Are you okay with this?”
“Zeb, I care about you and about Joshua. If Joshua needs time to process what is going on between you and me, then let’s give him time.”
They decided to take a break for the rest of December. Zeb didn’t like it, but he honestly didn’t know what else to do. He received word that his loan had been approved. The first thing he did was call Eunice at the yarn shop. She congratulated him, and he admitted how relieved he was. But the knowledge that he’d be able to raise Josh in his childhood home didn’t bring him the joy he would have expected. Did the place really matter? Or was it the people that made a place special? When he wrote in his journal, he admitted to himself that he’d been picturing Eunice there, sharing their life. And now, he didn’t know if that was going to happen.
Christmas wasn’t the joyous affair he’d imagined. He spent it at home with Samuel and Josh. The boy’s mood seemed to brighten when he opened his gifts. A ball and glove from Samuel. Newly knitted mittens, hat and scarf from Zeb’s parents. A book about farm animals from Zeb.
Then Christmas was over.
A week later, Zeb put the new calendar on the wall hook in the kitchen—where his mamm had always kept it.
He would still see Eunice at the tours that were set to begin again the next week. Would that make things better or worse?
He wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing.
He wasn’t happy that he’d put his relationship with Eunice on hold. And going into the new year, he had absolutely no idea what he’d done wrong with his son or how he could possibly fix it. But he did know that he needed Eunice in this new year. He didn’t want to even attempt it on his own.
How could he be sensitive to whatever Josh was going through and still hold true to his dreams, to the love he felt for Eunice?
And how long would she be willing to wait?
Chapter Fifteen
As Zeb walked back to the parked buggy where Josh was supposed to be waiting, his irritation grew. He’d plainly told the boy to wait on the bench in front of the horse. But was he there? Nope. The bench was empty.
Zeb thought that he should probably be more strict.
His son needed to learn to follow simple directions.
When he reached the buggy and the horse and the empty bench, Zeb stood there, hands on hips, turning in a circle. Josh wasn’t in the nearby playground. He wasn’t in the buggy or the parking lot. He wasn’t in the picnic area. Getting down on his hands and knees, he looked under the buggy. No Josh there. Then he looked inside the buggy again. Still no Josh.
“Where did he go, Beauty?”
The mare simply nodded her head. She didn’t offer a single clue. The sky had turned darker and a soft rain was beginning to fall. There was no one to ask, so Zeb did the only thing left to do. He stood there, in the rain, hollering to the north, then the east, south and west.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out again. Plucked his hat off his head. Hollered, “Josh. Where are you, son? Time to come back.”
No response. Only silence and the drip drip drip of rain slapping against the leaves of the trees, the top of the buggy, the pavement. January and it was still raining. When would it change to snow? And where was his son?
Zeb began to sweat, though the day was cool. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know where else to look. Panic was trying to claw its way up his spine and into his heart. He needed to remain calm.
So, he opened the door of the buggy, and that was when he saw the half sheet of paper torn from his son’s drawing tablet. Scribbled there in Josh’s painstaking handwriting were words that catapulted Zeb past panic and into terror.
Goin away dont look 4 me
He stared at the words, blinked, wiped water from his eyes and read them again. Had Josh run away? This could not mean that Josh had run away. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what he’d said to the boy on leaving. Something along the lines of, “Stay here and stay out of trouble for once.”
He’d been tired, running behind, frustrated.
And he’d taken it out on his five-year-old son.
He hopped out of the buggy. Beauty was sheltered under a tree for the most part, and the rain was still light. The mare would be fine. He started running back toward the market. No one was there, and it was nearly dark. Where would Josh have gone?
“Josh. Come out, son.”
Maybe the boy thought he was playing a game. Maybe this was nothing more than an exaggerated game of hide and seek.
Goin away dont look 4 me
Where would he have gone? Zeb practically ran to the market’s offices, which were closed up and locked. Everyone had left hours ago. A few minutes earlier, he had used his own key to unlock the front door of the building and leave the tour money on Amos’s desk.
Had Josh followed him?
Maybe slipped into the office building?
Zeb once again entered the building. He moved quickly up and down the halls. Calling Josh’s name. Looking for small wet shoe prints. His heart rate was accelerated, and he was sweating again. He’d lost his son. How had he managed to lose his son?
First his wife and now...
His mind shied away from the thought. He needed to focus. He needed to move quickly. He stepped back outside and relocked the office building, then worked his way through the auction area, around the canteen, up and down the rows of vendor booths. His shirt was sticking to his chest and his shoes made a squeaky sound with every step.
Maybe Josh was back at the buggy.
Maybe he was waiting for him there.
But only Beauty looked up when he ran back to where he was parked. No Josh in the front seat. No Josh in the back seat or on the floorboard. Zeb swiped at the rain and tears that were dripping down his face. He perched on the edge of the seat, buggy door open, looking out at the darkness that was settling over everything.
He couldn’t do this.
He simply could not do this anymore. He was a terrible parent. Josh’s disappearance proved what he’d feared all along. He could not be trusted to raise a child on his own. He wanted to give in to the feeling of worthlessness that threatened to overwhelm his soul.
And that was when he heard Ezekiel’s words. Gotte has chosen you.
He pulled in a deep breath. It’s a precious job.
Sat up straighter. Gotte will also equip you.
Squared his shoulders. And suddenly he heard not the bishop, but his own son as he’d put him to bed two or three nights ago. Josh had put his arms around Zeb’s neck and squeezed tightly, then said, “I love you, Dat.”
He’d been tired—more tired than usual. He’d been ready to go to the living room, enjoy a cup of tea, write in his journal. He’d been tired and impatient. Had he even hugged him back? Had he told his son how much he loved him? Zeb would give all he owned to relive that moment, to feel his son’s arms around him, to hear his sweet voice. Josh did love him, and Zeb loved Josh. He was a good dat. Not a perfect dat. Who was? But a good dat. His son was simply young.
Young children sometimes ran away.
The question now was how was he going to find him?
And suddenly he knew what to do. He knew that he couldn’t do this alone, and that he’d been foolish to ever think that he could. Family and friends and people from church and people he worked with, they would all be willing to help. They’d offered many times and in so many way.
Zeb hopped out of the buggy, spoke again to the mare, then strode back toward the office.
It was time he learned to ask for help when he needed it.
This wasn’t something he needed to do alone. It probably was something he couldn’t do alone. After all, he couldn’t be in one place looking and still be at the buggy in case his son came back. He needed help. And he was ready and willing to ask for it.
