Their Amish Reunion

Ava Jane continued to stitch one of the black squares with white backings that would frame a colorful flower, bird or butterfly. “Ja, I’m thankful for the help. I have to work on it when the kinder are with Mamm and Daed.” She glanced at the big-faced clock in the kitchen. Eleven in the morning. “We have a couple more hours. Daed is supervising the pony rides today.”

Both of her children were learning about chores and responsibility thanks to help from her parents. Daed provided a good male influence that helped to discipline them properly, but he couldn’t be with them all the time.

Jacob. She always thought of what a good father he’d been.

“Gut,” her sister said in a conspiring tone, bringing her back to the task at hand. “Now you can tell us what you think about Jeremiah Weaver coming back to Campton Creek.”

Ava Jane missed a stitch and pricked her finger.

Which her shrewd and overly curious sister saw right away.

With a soft yelp, she dropped her needle and held her finger to her lips, the metallic taste of blood making her wince. But she didn’t dare look at her sister or her suddenly quiet friends.

Deborah handed her an old remnant of fabric to hold over her finger. “You’ve talked to him?”

Ava Jane held the fabric to her skin, the pain of the tiny cut stinging through her with a warning while the pressure she put on the wound only reinforced her anxiety. “Not intentionally, ne.”

Why did she feel the need to defend herself and him?

“Then how?” Deborah asked, concern mixed with hurt in her eyes that her sister had not confided in her.

Ava Jane glanced at the two other women watching her with a ridiculous intensity that made her want to laugh. But she couldn’t laugh. “I was coming out of Hartford’s and he was there on the street, loading some lumber into a truck.”

“Lumber, on the street? And a truck at that?” her friend Hannah asked, her brown-eyed expression full of awe. “What does he look like now?”

Did her friends think Jeremiah had grown two heads and now breathed fire? Well, remembering how she’d recoiled at first, she’d probably acted the same.

Ava Jane swallowed and wished she hadn’t been so transparent here today or with Jeremiah yesterday. She never could hide her emotions. Tenderhearted, her mamm called her.

Holding her head up, she said, “He looks healthy.” And hardened and world-weary.

Jeremiah had always been formidable, but now his shoulders seemed to be even wider than she remembered. Strong shoulders.

Her sister made a groaning sound. “Ja, I suppose he would at that.”

“I’ve heard things,” Hannah said, speaking in a rush. “Heard he looks like a different man now. Englisch, my daed says.”

“Does everyone know he’s back?” Ava Jane asked, unable to stop her own curiosity.

“Ja, and that he talked to you on the street,” Hannah replied. “Grossmammi heard it from Rebecca Lantz. She said he’s been taking baptism classes already.”

Ava Jane shook her head. “No wonder it’s all over the place.” Rebecca Lantz loved to gossip and she’d also had a severe crush on Jeremiah at one time. Now at least, she was married and settled. But she still didn’t know when to stay quiet. “Rebecca likes to prattle too much,” she blurted.

She also told herself that if Jeremiah was attending baptism sessions, he must be back for good.

“We are not to judge,” Leah, older and married with six children, said while she cast her gaze across the creamy quilt backing. “Ava Jane might rather not talk about this.”

“He looked fine,” Ava Jane said to show them she was unaffected and that she, for one, wouldn’t judge. “We spoke briefly and I left.”

She didn’t go into detail about dropping her groceries or how Jeremiah had helped her salvage what she could. Nor did she tell them that seeing him had shattered her into a million pieces. She’d thought her grief was becoming better but now she mourned Jacob’s death in a raw, fresh way. She blamed Jeremiah for that. He’d brought out too many emotions in her.

“Has he returned for gut then?” Leah asked, sympathy and understanding in her brown eyes.

“I didn’t ask. And it’s not my concern.”

Hannah supplied the rest, her brown eyes settling on Ava Jane. “According to what I’m hearing, he’s come home because Isaac is dying. Jeremiah will take over the farm chores and continue the carpentry work he and his father used to do together. His father needed him a long time ago. At least he’s home now. Beth is happy. She never gave up on her brother.”

This time, when her friend looked at Ava Jane, there was a trace of regret and condemnation in Hannah’s expression.

What did she know about heartache? She had yet to find a husband.

Ava Jane went back to stitching her daughter’s quilt, her face burning, her eyes misting. She was pretty sure she made a mistake in laying the pattern, but then some believed no quilt should be perfect anyway. Only God held perfection.

A good reason to remember she shouldn’t judge.

The women went on to other topics such as the upcoming Campton Creek Spring Festival to be held next month. The Amish had always participated in the fair. They took their wares into town and held a sidewalk sale in the park by the creek and across from Hartford’s. But her sister’s hand over hers brought her head up.

Deborah gave her a quick, quiet smile and then went back to stitching a yellow-and-white butterfly.

Her sister knew her so well, Ava Jane thought. Well enough to know Jeremiah being home was a concern. A big concern.

* * *

A few days later, Ava Jane’s mother and sister came for an early-morning visit. “Wilkum,” she said, surprised to see both of them there on a fine Friday morning. “Come in.”

Her family lived just around the curve, close enough that she could walk across the field and then take the covered bridge over the big creek between her land and theirs. She sometimes avoided going that way, though, and instead took the lane that wound away from the deep creek that held the same name as the town.

She visited with them weekly and her folks often stopped by to check on her. But usually that occurred when the children were just returning from school up the road. They loved their grandchildren.

This was an unusual visit.

“We need your help,” Martha Troyer said, giving Ava Jane a quick hug. “We dropped by to see if you’d like to ride over to the Weaver place with us. Moselle is having a hard time of trying to take care of Isaac, and we’ve brought food to take.” Then Mamm gave a little shrug, but her intent was soon clear. “I just felt that I needed to visit with Moselle this morning.”

“And she felt that we both also needed to be there with her,” Deborah said, giving Ava Jane an eyebrow lift that warned her this was not Deborah’s idea. “Are you busy?”

Her dear sister was trying to give her an out.

Ava Jane searched to find an excuse. She’d already worked in the garden, swept the porch, hung some laundry on the line out back and made two chocolate pies. “Ne,” she finally said. “But why do I need to come along?”

Her mother gave her a soft smile. “I thought it might cheer up Beth. We haven’t had a good housecleaning frolic in a long time, and Beth’s been working by her mamm’s side day and night for the last few weeks, helping to take care of Isaac. You two can distract her while I help Moselle with whatever needs doing. It’ll be gut for Beth to talk to women close to her age.”

Ava Jane couldn’t say no. And besides, she wasn’t sure Jeremiah’s parents even knew he was back. But they’d have to know if he’d come back to help out. Everyone must have heard by now. He might be living here again, but he’d been using a truck in town when she’d seen him several days ago. That meant he might prefer life with the Englisch. But he must be living somewhere near here, at least. She wondered if he’d decided to stay out there in the world, after all.

But either way, surely he wouldn’t be at his parents’ place. He was no longer welcome there, from what Beth had said about their father’s wrath.

Of course, Ava Jane hadn’t been the best of friends with Beth through the years. Their friendship had been tested mightily. Maybe a visit could help that.

“Let me freshen up and get my bonnet,” she said, already tugging at her work apron. “I made two chocolate pies. I can take one of those to go along with what you’ve provided.”