“You look like an Amish woman. Victor will not recognize you if he returns to talk to Joachim.”
Sarah’s stomach roiled thinking again of the hateful man who had held her against her will for too long. How could his mother, who seemed sweet and unassuming, birth a baby who would grow to be so vicious?
What had caused Victor to turn out so bad? She shook her head at the issues within families. Sarah’s oldest sister, Hannah, had left three years ago. Sarah had pleaded for her to stay, but Hannah said she had to leave. Sarah hadn’t understood her reasoning or why Hannah had never contacted them again.
When she begged her mother to reach out to Hannah and ask her to return home, her mother had shoved the request aside, just as she ignored anything that didn’t suit her. Sarah never understood how she could turn her back on her own child. Although too many times her mother had turned her back on Miriam and Sarah. At least Sarah had always had Miriam, but where was she now and would the two women ever be reunited?
* * *
The rain returned. Fat drops pounded the barnyard, and thunder rumbled overhead. Joachim and Levi hurried to finish the chores.
Glancing at the upstairs window, Joachim thought of when he had first seen Sarah. Had it been only a few hours since their eyes had connected at the Thomin home?
He followed Levi into the barn. The two men spoke little as they worked, but the silence was comfortable, and the physical labor relaxed the tension in Joachim’s shoulders. Some of his earlier concern about Sarah evaporated, and instead of confusion, he felt a sense of purpose and right order.
“Your father is a gut farmer, but he is getting old,” Levi confided as he paused for a moment to wipe his brow.
“Datt planned for Eli and me to work the land with him,” Joachim admitted. “Now he needs to find help. You are good to aid him, Levi.”
“I help only when he is not in town. He is too proud to take on another person the rest of the time.”
Joachim nodded. “Yah, he is proud.”
“He will be glad to see you.”
“You are good to give me comfort by your hopeful words, but I do not think my datt will welcome me home.”
Levi narrowed his gaze. “You come asking forgiveness, yah?”
“I do, but my father and I must both bridge the divide between us. I will walk halfway. I hope he will walk halfway, as well.”
“Sometimes the son must walk farther, especially if the father believes he is right.”
Joachim pondered Levi’s words while he added feed to the troughs and watched the horses eat the newly offered grain.
Levi might think his father would be open to Joachim coming home, but what if his homecoming brought back too many memories of what had happened? Maybe when he faced his father again, Joachim would discover that he had been foolish to think reconciliation was possible.
Once the horses were fed, the two men rolled up their sleeves and washed their hands and arms at the water pump, and then ran to the house as lightning split the sky.
Joachim opened the door and hurried into the kitchen ahead of Levi.
Rebecca stood at the stove, holding a pie that she had just pulled from the oven.
“The storm comes again,” he said as he crossed the kitchen to the towel hanging on a hook.
He dried his hands, then glanced up as Rebecca turned to face him. His heart lurched in his chest, sending a new wave of confusion over him. He stared openmouthed at the Amish woman.
Not Rebecca. The face he saw beneath the white kapp made his breath catch in his throat.
Sarah.
“Rebecca provided the clothes.” Sarah’s hand wrapped through the fabric of the skirt. “Your sister said Victor would not recognize me like this.”
“My sister is right.” Joachim struggled to find his voice. “I did not recognize you at first glance.”
“You think I look like Rebecca?”
Her blue eyes reached into his heart. She was beautiful. Not because she was in the Amish dress or because her hair was pulled into a bun but because some of the pain she had worn earlier had eased. The lines that tugged at her face had lifted, and the open honesty of her gaze hit him anew.
“Joachim, you haven’t answered me,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong and you do not look like Rebecca, but I am surprised to see you as an Amish woman.”
“Am I offending you?”
He shook his head. “You could never offend me.”
Levi hurried inside and stopped by the door to wipe his feet. Bewilderment washed over his face as he glanced first at Sarah and then at Rebecca, who stepped back into the kitchen.
“You are both staring as if you have never seen a woman in an Amish dress,” Rebecca said with a laugh.
Levi pointed to the stove. “I was wondering if you could spare a cup of coffee and a slice of pie for a hungry man.”
“Yah, of course.” Rebecca’s cheeks glowed with a hint of embarrassment. “But I have ham and cheese on the table, along with fresh baked bread. You need to eat something substantial before you have your pie.”
Levi smiled as he accepted the cup of coffee she offered. “You know what I need even before I do.”
The twinkle in her eyes warmed Joachim’s heart. Rebecca’s interest in the young man was more than evident, and Levi seemed taken with her, as well. Joachim was happy for his schweschder and hoped Levi would start the courting process soon. Perhaps Joachim could chaperone and take them for rides in the country. He would occupy his mind with thoughts of pretty Sarah in her blue dress and white apron while Rebecca and Levi chatted with each other.
If only Sarah was wearing the Amish dress as a woman of their faith instead of as an Englischer who needed to hide her identity and had nothing else to wear.
Joachim and Sarah sipped coffee as Levi ate the lunch Rebecca had provided. Although Sarah said little, her eyes took in the conversation he and Levi had about the farm and what could be done if his datt were open to accepting help to make the fields more productive.
“The Amish Market in Willkommen is a fine place to sell produce and baked goods,” Levi shared. “My uncle goes twice a week as do many of the other Amish farmers. The Englisch come from as far away as Atlanta. They buy handcrafted items, too—including woodwork. You could do well in this area, Joachim, if you opened a shop in town.”
He shook his head and laughed. “I am a carpenter, Levi, not a store clerk.”
“Yet you charge for your labor when you go house to house. How different would that be from selling chairs and tables and lawn furniture to walk-in customers?”
Although Levi had a point,
