~One year later~
“Lucy? Lucy, you come here this instant.”
Paul’s voice echoed through their home, practically shaking the rafters. Definitely shaking her nerves. In a panic, she slipped her pencil into the middle of her diary, shut it, then hastily stuffed it in between the wooden slats and into the box springs of their bed.
She got to her feet and went to find her husband.
He stood at the bottom of the steps, his hands on his hips, rage in his eyes.
“Yes, Paul?” she asked, taking care to keep her tone even and calm.
“Where is the bread you made today?”
She rushed past him, careful not to make contact. In the kitchen, she opened the bread box. “Here,” she said, slipping out the fresh loaf. “Would you like a slice?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Nee.”
He turned from her and stomped off, just as she caught her breath. Oh, that had been a close call. She knew what would have happened if she hadn’t found the bread . . .
Abruptly, he turned around. “Lucy? Did you make bread for your family, too?”
Her palms began to sweat. What was the right answer? If she chose wrong, Paul would be upset.
She bit her lip.
“Lucy, can you answer me?”
Oh, that tone. So sarcastic and harsh at the same time! Quickly, she rubbed her damp hands on the sides of her dress. Swallowed hard. “I did make bread for them.”
Body tense, she waited for him to respond.
A light shone in his eyes as he stepped forward. His hand was raised. Her breath caught.
“Hello? Hel-lo!”
Lucy opened her eyes and stifled a scream. A little girl was staring at her over the top of the seat in front of her. Little by little, the dream faded and her reality set in.
She was on a train.
Not in her kitchen.
And Paul . . . Paul was gone.
The little girl squinted her eyes as she examined Lucy some more. Pretty little eyebrows framed expressive blue eyes. And a petite white kapp covered her head.
Lucy finally spoke. “Hello to you.”
A broad smile greeted her. “We’re Amish, too!”
When Lucy blinked, the girl laughed and pulled on the shirt of the man next to her.
“She’s awake, Calvin,” the girl chirped. “She’s awake and she’s starin’ right at me.”
Slowly, the man turned and faced Lucy, looking at her over the upholstered seats. “I apologize,” he murmured, his expression pained. “My sister Katie doesn’t always know when to leave others alone. We’ll try to not bother you again.”
As the haze of sleep floated away, Lucy suddenly realized that they’d both been speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. Right there in the middle of the train.
That was a curious thing. From the time she’d left the train station in Kalamazoo, she’d hardly come across more than a handful of Amish, and they’d been at the station in Chicago.
“I’m Amish,” she said. Unnecessarily, to be sure. After all, the little girl had just made that pronouncement.
But instead of pointing that out, the man—who really was too handsome for his own good—had the nerve to wink. “It’s enough to make ya smile, ain’t it?” he asked, bright blue eyes shining underneath the brim of his black felt hat. “The coach attendant took Katie, my uncle, and me through practically this whole train here, and I didn’t spy a single other Plain traveler. Until you. And now . . . here we all are.”
Yes, here we all are, she silently repeated to herself—and against her will felt herself slowly falling into a dark void of panic. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to have a real conversation with a man.
Paul hadn’t only damaged her physically. He’d damaged her self-confidence as well.
When the silence between them turned awkward, the man pointed to the window. Rain splattered angrily against the pane. “You’re lucky you’ve been able to sleep. The storm is a terrible one, for sure.”
Lightning flashed in the distance, glowing bright against the dark sky. Lucy nodded. “I fell asleep more than an hour ago. I didn’t even realize it was raining.”
“Well, I’m not tired at all,” the little girl said.
Lucy couldn’t help but be charmed by Katie’s blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and chatty nature. Oh, she so did enjoy children. Time and again, she’d prayed for God to bless her with a baby. But none had ever come.
“Katie, you might get tired sooner than you think,” she warned with a smile. “That’s what happened to me. One minute I was looking out the window, and the next I was sound asleep.”
“Until we woke you up,” the man said, sounding terribly aggrieved.
“I don’t mind.”
“You should.” Looking at his sister, he shook his head in obvious exasperation. “You must learn to mind your manners, Katie.”
“But I don’t want to sleep. Traveling is too much fun.” She squirmed in another direction, then pointed to a man two rows down. “Uncle John says traveling is an adventure not to be missed.”
“But if you’ll notice, he’s also sitting far from you.”
“Calvin, you know Uncle John said he was sorry that we couldn’t sit three to a seat. He said he was real sad about that.”
His tone wry, Calvin said, “Somehow, I doubt that.”
As Lucy continued to watch the pair with interest, the man rolled his eyes. “As you can see, my tiny sister here is like a whirling top. Nothing seems to slow her down. It’s no wonder my mother asked me to take her with me to Indianapolis. She probably needed a vacation of her own.”
He smiled again, but in spite of her best intentions, Lucy wasn’t able to relax enough to return his grin. No matter what, it seemed as if Paul was still always with her, judging her reactions to him. To other men. Watching her . . . Little by little, both her family and other members of her community had come to accept that Lucy was far different from the bright, smiling girl she had once been. Of course, most in the community kept their distance—they’d known how Paul had treated her . . . and had chosen to look the other way.
But instead of looking at her strangely, the man seemed amused by Lucy’s lack of conversation. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t board here in South Bend,” he said. “When did you get on?”
“Back in Michigan.”
“So you’ve been traveling for some time—”
“A really long time,” Katie interjected.
“I have,” she told the child. “Hours and hours. I boarded a different train back in Kalamazoo, then got on this one in Chicago.”
“You’ve had quite an exciting day, then.”
She tensed, sure he was teasing her. Finding fault. But then she noticed that his whole demeanor was patient. Kind. Not searching for blunders.
His little sister didn’t look timid around him at all.
“Jah,” she finally said. With effort, Lucy pushed back the unease she felt rushing forward, heating her cheeks. Just because a man is handsome like Paul, it doesn’t mean he’s like him inside, she cautioned herself.
“We haven’t traveled by train too often, neither. I must have checked my reservation ten times, I was so worried about boarding the wrong train. You and me, Katie, and my Uncle John will have to stick together then, jah?”
For a moment, she was tempted to smile right back and take him up on his offer. But that would be a silly thing to do. Within a few hours the train would stop in Cleveland and she’d never see them again.
So she settled for self-preservation. “Jah,” she said simply, then turned her head away so she wouldn’t see the expression in their eyes.
Obviously misjudging her uneasiness, he cleared his throat. “By the way, I’m Calvin and this, here, is my sister Katie.”
“Katie Weaver,” his sister corrected.
“And I am Lucy Troyer.”
Calvin inclined his head. “Lucy, we are pleased to meet you.”
“I as well,” she said. Then feeling like a fool again, she turned toward the window and closed her eyes. Though she tried her best to relax, she was finding it next to impossible. She was too aware of his presence. His smile. His easy way of moving.
And the horrible knowledge that once again she was noticing a much too handsome man whom she really knew nothing about. And was accepting his words at face value.
Just as she’d once done with Paul.
As Lucy turned away and closed her eyes, Calvin bit back regret. When he’d first spied her sitting in the row behind them, he’d been thanking his lucky stars. She was a pretty thing. Her hair was the color of dark honey, and her light golden eyes reminded him of the fields outside his kitchen window on an August morning.
But her attitude was curious. With Katie, she seemed relaxed and easy to talk to. With him, however, her manner was different. She’d been skittish. Bordering on rude.
No, that’s not quite right, he reflected. Her manner had been more circumspect. Restrained. Actually, it was almost as if she’d been afraid of him.
He frowned. Never before in his twenty-six years had a woman looked at him with such apprehension. On the contrary, most seemed to go out of their way to be good company.
He’d always taken that for granted, he supposed. It was what came of being Calvin Weaver, the oldest son of the Weaver family—the biggest landowners in Jacob’s Crossing.
As Katie squirmed next to him, he prayed she’d fall asleep soon. “Settle, shveshtah,” he murmured.
“I’m tryin’. But it’s hard to get comfortable.”
“Try harder. You’re making too much noise.”
“You take up too much room.” After a pause, she said, “Maybe I could go sit beside Lucy? She hardly takes up half a seat.”
“Of course you can’t.”
Katie’s expression turned mutinous. “Why not?”
“Because you can’t just go sit next to someone you don’t know.”
“People do on the train.”
Her logic was giving him a headache. “Hush now.”
“But—”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Fine.” She turned her back to him, and squirmed and fidgeted.
While she did that, Calvin turned his mind back to Lucy.
What, he wondered, had set her off? Had he said something that could be misconstrued? Replaying their brief conversation in his mind, he could think of nothing untoward. Perhaps she just hadn’t felt like talking.
After another bout of restlessness, Katie curled up in a ball under a thick blanket and finally stilled.
Peace at last!
Though it was a bad idea, Calvin took the opportunity to pull a worn letter from his jacket’s inside pocket. In the relative privacy of his seat, he smoothed out the creases, rubbing his thumb against the folds . . . and over the words he had memorized six weeks ago. But couldn’t seem to let go of.
His last letter from Gwen.
There was no reason for him to still have the note. He knew why Gwen had broken up with him. Everyone in Jacob’s Crossing knew. She’d fallen in love with one of his friends and had been too full of herself to even tell him in person.
No, she’d written him a letter.
Which he still kept, much to his embarrassment.
Dear Calvin, the letter began. I fear I must finally be honest with you . . .
She’d feared. “Finally.” Each word and phrase hurt him anew. Calvin blinked, then, like an addict, focused on the words again, farther down the page.
Will and I, we can’t help our feelings, you see . . .
As the words swam in front of him, he remembered the conversation with his brothers.
“Why don’t you go to Indiana for a spell,” his youngest brother, Graham, had said. “There’s no need for you to witness their courting.”
But running away had seemed weak, and he’d told them that.
His brother Loyal had simply laughed. “What does it matter if people think you’re weak or strong? All that matters is how you feel. And for the record, I think you have every right to feel betrayed.”
“Jah,” Graham added. “They went and fell in love right under your nose, Calvin. Get away from here for a week or so. Clear your head.”
“Or better yet, take Katie,” Loyal added.
“Katie?” he’d asked in surprise and, admittedly, with trepidation.
“Yes, that would be a mighty gut idea,” his youngest brother said. “She’s been pestering Mamm something awful these days. Mamm would be terribly grateful if you got her out of her hair for a bit.”
But though his brothers’ advice made perfect sense—and though his mother had wholeheartedly supported his vacation—Calvin had hemmed and hawed. He’d stayed up many nights and prayed for answers. For the right answers. But the only advice that rang true to him was in his brothers’ words.
That there was no shame in being hurt.
So, with his little sister in tow, he’d left Jacob’s Crossing and journeyed west to Indianapolis. There, they visited Uncle John, who’d become an Englischer when Calvin was just a child.
While in Indianapolis, the three of them visited the city’s children’s museum and sampled ice cream on park benches. They’d walked city blocks and ridden bicycles. Slowly, Calvin began to feel less depressed about his reasons for being there and had begun to take comfort in the blessings he was given. He admired the tall buildings and the intricately designed gardens. He bought a dozen postcards to show his brothers. And Katie’s indefatigable spirit brightened his days.
Just as they were preparing to leave, John surprised the both of them by saying he wanted to accompany them back. “I’ve been gone for too long. For twenty years; since I was eighteen,” he said, speaking of Geauga County and their many relatives.
“We’ll be glad to have you near,” Calvin had said, but inside, his mind was spinning. All he’d ever heard was that John had moved away and never looked back. That he’d abandoned all of them with his English ways and his worldly views.
Though, that wasn’t true, because, after all, he’d been a mighty good host to him and Katie. Calvin had definitely gotten the impression that he liked his life in Indianapolis. And that he never pined for his old life—or his family.
But perhaps that also wasn’t true.
Now, as he looked at Gwen’s letter, Calvin forced himself to look to the future. In mere hours, they’d be back in Jacob’s Crossing. There, Calvin felt sure he could go back to his old life. If he tried real hard, Calvin was certain he’d be able to tell everyone that Gwen and Will’s new affection for each other hardly mattered to him at all.
He knew he needed to throw out Gwen’s note and move on, in mind as well as deed.
But, as if his hands acted of their own accord, the paper was folded and neatly slipped back into his pocket. There would be another time. Another, better time.
Twenty minutes later, Katie stretched and sat up. “Can I have a snack now?”
“You just ate, child.”
“Almost two hours ago. I’m hungry again.”
He sincerely doubted that. Most likely, she was just restless. And eager to pester the woman behind them. “Don’tcha think you should try to fall back to sleep?”
“I can’t with the storm. It’s thundering something awful.” With a mischievous smile, she said, “Calvin, I think some of the Oreos Uncle John gave us would make me feel better.”
“All right, then. Sit tight,” he murmured, standing up. Unable to help himself, he glanced Lucy’s way.
She was watching him, her golden eyes looking like they didn’t miss a thing.
“My sister, she needs a snack,” he explained.
“So I heard.” A slight smile appeared for a second, then vanished like an apparition.
He’d just reached his arms up to grab hold of the fabric handle of his bag overhead when the train rocked.
“Oh!” Lucy said.
Outside, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Inside, the row of fluorescent lights flickered. The train rocked again.
Almost losing his balance, Calvin reached for the chrome bar and gripped it hard.
“Calvin! Gebb acht!” Katie warned.
“I am being careful. Don’t worry so,” he chided just as the lights flickered again and seemingly gave up the fight, shrouding everyone in darkness.
Beside him, Katie jumped to her feet . . . and Lucy cried out.