“No,” Neil said. “I only helped make her feel safe.” He closed his eyes and Leah thought that he might have fallen asleep, but soon his voice came again. “And watch out about Ethan, too.”
“But why?”
“He’s Amish, honey. It’s in his blood.” Neil reached for her hand. “I don’t want your heart broken.”
“Ethan wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Not intentionally. But sometimes circumstances come up against us like a brick wall. Circumstances we can’t do anything about.”
“I know,” Leah said. “Like getting cancer.” She recognized those kinds of circumstances all too well. But loving Ethan was her choice. “Are you saying falling in love is like getting sick?”
Neil smiled. “Sometimes it seems that way … but no. Falling in love is a good thing.”
“I know that Ethan and I have a lot of things going against us. I didn’t set out to care about some Amish guy, you know.”
“I believe you. Too bad we don’t always get to pick who we love. Sometimes love just happens to us, whether we’re looking for it or not. But finding the right person at the wrong time can be a problem. Lots of things have to come together before love, and the person we love, are just right for us.”
Leah wanted to keep talking about herself and Ethan, but she knew Neil didn’t have the strength for it. “Maybe you should rest.”
“Not yet.” His breathing sounded labored. “One more thing.” He gestured toward the drawer of his bedside table. “Open it.”
Leah discovered a small wrapped box. “What’s this?”
“Part of your graduation gift. I had your mother bring it here so that I could give it to you.”
“But I don’t graduate for two months.”
“I won’t be there, Leah.”
“Maybe you will,” she countered stubbornly. “You could fool your doctors and go into remission again.”
He slipped his hand over hers. “That’s not going to happen, honey. I won’t be around for a lot of things in your life. I’ll miss your wedding day when that rolls around. But I promise I’ll be looking in on you when you walk down that aisle.”
Until then, Leah had never considered that she’d have no father to give her away. Tears of sadness and regret filled her eyes. “Then I’ll walk alone.”
“Sh-h-h. Don’t cry now. Just open that box while I can still see your face.”
With trembling fingers, Leah opened the box. Inside was a gold charm of a diploma, sparkling with a ruby chip. “For your bracelet,” Neil said.
“Thank you. I-It’s beautiful.”
“No—thank you,” he said with difficulty. “I’m so proud of you, Leah. You’re smart. You have a good, kind heart. Do something wonderful with your life.”
Neil drifted off to sleep, and Leah bowed her head and cried.
Leah and Ethan went to the hospital coffee shop that evening, ordered hot chocolate and sat at a corner table. Leah felt weary to her bones. Neil had not awakened again all afternoon or evening.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said. “I know this waiting cannot be easy for you.”
“It isn’t easy for you, either,” Leah said. “I keep thinking back to Rebekah’s death. It happened so suddenly. And with Neil, we’ve known for months that he was sick, but I’m not any more ready for him to die than I was for Rebekah.”
Ethan reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. “We cannot change what God has ordained, Leah. We may not understand why, but even if we knew why, knowing would not stop it.”
“It just isn’t fair. And it makes me mad,” she said.
Ethan smoothed her cheek with his palm. “But miracles happen also. You are proof of that.”
Ever since Neil’s hospitalization, Leah had suppressed fears about her own health. She would go for another checkup at the end of May. “But what if—?”
Ethan silenced her with a shake of his head. “You will be fine. I believe this with all my heart.”
Not wanting to speculate about it, she asked, “Tell me something to make me happy. I’m so tired of talking about cancer and dying.”
Ethan looked thoughtful. “Dr. Prater has offered to send me to a special school this summer in Indianapolis so that I can learn more about veterinary medicine.”
Leah sat up straight. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“He only just mentioned it yesterday.”
“Indy’s not that far away. Hey, you could even commute from our place.” She felt a mounting excitement.
Ethan grinned. “You are like a horse with a bit in its teeth—off and running. I am not sure I will go.”
“Why not? It sounds like a good idea. You like working with animals. Maybe you could be a vet like Dr. Prater.”
“It is much like college for you—a choice, but not one I’m sure I want to make.”
“You should seriously think about it,” Leah said, her heart hammering. Ever since their visit to Eli’s, she had been afraid Ethan would leave. Now it appeared that he had a perfect reason to remain. Besides, the Amish needed veterinarians, so it wasn’t as if he could never return to his community. Why, she believed that even Jacob Longacre might approve of Ethan’s becoming a doctor for animals. If Ethan stayed the summer and attended the school, then continued working with Dr. Prater, she could stay around too. They would be together.
Leah cleared her throat. “Well, I think it’s a great opportunity, and you should really think hard about it.”
Ethan stared pensively out the window. “I will, Leah.”
On Friday Neil slipped into a coma. Leah got the call at school. She ran out of the building, hopped into her car and sped to the hospital. Ethan arrived less than an hour later, still muddy from a field. “I was helping Dr. Prater with the birth of twin calves,” he explained.
Roberta took Neil’s hand into hers and kissed his palm. “We’re here, honey,” she told him. “We’ll be here until you leave.”
Leah experienced déjà vu. Hadn’t she just stood by Rebekah’s deathbed only months before? Hadn’t she felt these same emotions, numbness, anger, fear, and unbearable sadness? How much grief could a person take?
She asked Ethan, “What should I pray for?”
“Pray that his passing is gentle. And quick.”
She bowed her head but couldn’t form the words—not even mentally. She didn’t want Neil to die. She didn’t want to let him go.
The three of them stationed themselves around Neil’s bed. They talked to him, touched him, watched his body shut down. Machines performed the tasks of his diseased organs. Time became fluid as the hours melted into one another. Still there was no change in Neil’s condition. Nurses brought two sleeping chairs into the room for Leah and Ethan, and then very early in the morning, Leah was startled awake by the high whine of Neil’s heart monitor. She leaped to her feet to join her mother, already bent over Neil’s motionless body.
A nurse rushed in and flipped off the monitor. The silence seemed deafening. The nurse felt for a pulse. “He’s gone,” she said.
Leah crumpled onto the bed, sobbing, her lips pressed against Neil’s ear. “I love you, Neil.” Suddenly the words were not enough. And they were the wrong words. “Daddy,” she choked. “I love you, Daddy. I love you.”
TWENTY-ONE
Dawn had broken when Leah and Ethan walked out into the cold spring air. Leah’s mother had remained to fill out paperwork and told them to wait for her in the lobby. But Leah couldn’t stand being in the hospital one more minute. Outside she shivered, and her cheeks, still wet with her tears, felt stiff and frozen. Ethan put his arm around her and they stood huddled together.
Leah said, “I half expected Gabriella to show up and save Neil. Wasn’t that stupid of me?”
“How do you know she didn’t?”
“I sure didn’t see her. Did you?” Leah didn’t hide her sarcasm.
“Just because she did not show herself to you does not mean she did not come. I be
lieve she came to take Neil’s soul to heaven.”
“Why do you think that?”
Ethan pulled back and gave Leah an inquiring look. “Do you not know what today is, Leah?”
“I—I don’t even know what day of the week it is.”
“It is Sunday. Easter Sunday.”
Astounded, Leah asked, “It is?”
“Yes. It is a day for resurrection. It is a good day for angels to come and take Neil home.”
Later Leah and Ethan went to the funeral home for the viewing. Leah sneaked off to an unused room and sat, feeling numb and overwhelmed.
Ethan came into the semidarkness and sat down beside her. “I missed you.”
“I couldn’t stand it in there one more minute. I had to get out.”
“So many tears,” he said. “So much sadness.”
Leah turned to him. “You’re thinking about Rebekah, aren’t you?”
“Her memory is all around me,” Ethan confessed. “Amish, English—the pain is just the same.”
“You liked Neil, didn’t you?”
“Ya, he was a good man, Leah. Yet today, it is not just Rebekah and Neil I am thinking of. I am also thinking of Eli. He is alive, but he acts as if he is dead to us.”
“That’s the way it was for my real father for so many years. He was alive, but he might as well have been dead for all the good it did us. I wanted him to come home so much.” The memory brought on fresh tears.
“Home,” Ethan said, with a longing in his voice that made Leah’s breath catch.
She reached out and held rightly to his arm. “Stay with me, Ethan. Please, don’t leave me now.”
He touched her cheek tenderly. “I will not leave you, Leah. I will not”
———
After the funeral the next day, Leah’s mother cried softly into a handkerchief. “I miss Neil so much. I feel so alone without him. Like part of me is missing.” She sounded desolate.
“We’ll be with you,” Leah offered.
“Yes,” her mother said, as if seeing her for the first time. “Yes, you will. It’s just us again, Leah. Only you and me.”
Leah wasn’t sure how to respond. Neil’s death had left a hole that neither of them knew how to fill. They got into the car and rode home in silence.
Guests arrived bearing casseroles and baskets of food and flowers. Leah and Ethan escaped to the solitude of the barn, and being around Neil’s cars brought Leah a measure of comfort. Ethan began to methodically polish the steel and chrome of the old automobiles.
“Neil won’t be back to inspect them,” Leah said forlornly.
Ethan glanced at her with sad blue eyes. “This is true. But I know he would want them cared for if he were here. I will keep them up for him.”
How like Ethan, Leah thought. He did his duty with such a sense of purpose. She felt purposeless, adrift, like a sailor marooned on a far-off island. What was going to happen to her and her mother now?
She watched Ethan polish the cars until it was dark and all the people had left the house
Two days after the funeral, Roberta came into Leah’s bedroom, where Leah was lying on her bed. Her mother asked, “Can I sit for a minute?”
Leah moved over to make room.
“I’ve just returned from Mr. Prentice’s office—you know, Neil’s lawyer.” Leah said nothing, and her mother continued. “We went over Neil’s will. He left everything to me.”
“Congratulations,” Leah said without emotion. “What will you do with it? Move?”
Her mother looked surprised. “This is home, Leah. I’m staying right here.”
“Oh.” Leah wasn’t sure what she’d expected her mother to say, but she was pleased her mother was staying put, relieved that this would still be home.
“Neil left you something too, Leah.”
Leah propped herself up on her elbows. “He did?”
Her mother held out a small gift wrapped in colorful tissue. “Neil wanted me to give you this after … well, after he was gone. It’s a graduation present.”
“He gave me the gold charm at the hospital.”
“This is something else he wanted you to have.”
Leah unwrapped the present and found a small key. “What’s this?”
“It’s a key to a safe-deposit box. In it are the titles to all the cars in his antique auto collection.”
“What am I supposed to do with his cars?”
“He left instructions that the proceeds from selling the cars should be used to set up a trust fund for you. Those cars are worth a great deal of money, and all of it will be yours to use however you want.”
Stupefied, Leah stared at the small key. “Neil did that for me?”
“Yes. He loved you like a daughter. Naturally, it will take some time to find buyers for all the cars, but eventually you’ll have quite a nest egg.” She paused. “You know, Leah, it was always Neil’s hope that you would go to college. Now you have the means to do so.”
Leah’s mind was in turmoil. “I—I can’t think that far ahead now.”
Her mother patted her hand. “I understand. But please think about it. You know, I never had a decent education, and my life’s been … well, difficult. Not that an education will make things perfect for you, but it might make things easier.” Her mother stood. “Think about it. We can discuss it if you want.” Her fingers trailed across Leah’s hair and down her cheek. “I miss Neil very much. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m sorry we had so little time together but grateful that we had any at all.”
Once her mother had left the room, Leah’s mind raced. She had a trust fund. She had money. Suddenly nagging thoughts about her health nibbled into her consciousness and began to erode her awe and pleasure. She wanted to talk to Ethan. She wanted him to help her decide what to do.
Leah hopped off the bed, went down to the basement and knocked on his bedroom door. “Can we talk?” she asked. “I have some big news.”
“In a minute,” he called.
“I’ll wait for you on the front porch.”
Outside, the afternoon sun was lowering over the fields. The spring air smelled fresh and clean. She sat in the wooden swing, fidgeting, eager for Ethan to come. She heard the door open and turned just as he stepped out onto the porch. The smile faded from her mouth. Her heart lodged in her throat.
He was dressed Amish.
TWENTY-TWO
“What are you doing?” Leah could hardly get the words out.
“I must go home.”
“But this is home!”
“This is your home,” he said, shaking his head. For the first time she noticed how long his hair had grown. And he now wore it as he had when she’d first met him. “I miss my family, Leah. I have to go back to them.”
His words hit her like blows. She wasn’t enough for him. Why couldn’t she be enough? “But I need you, Ethan. How can you leave me so soon after Neil’s death?” It was as if her whole world were disintegrating.
He crouched in front of her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled back. “It has been Neil who has helped me understand where I belong.”
Leah listened, unable to accept what Ethan was saying. Neil knew how she felt about Ethan. He wouldn’t have urged him to leave. He wouldn’t.
“All this time of being around Neil, working for him, talking and listening to him, seeing how hard he fought to live, made me see that a person’s life cannot be lived independently of those he loves. Neil wanted you and your mother close to him. He wanted to give you all that he could of himself and of whatever time he had left. Neil was like a father to me in many ways. He reminded me of all the good things that my father stands for.” Ethan reached up and raised Leah’s chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “I am Amish. Just as my father is Amish, and his father before him, and all the fathers before that.”
“Eli seems to have adapted.” Leah’s voice quivered. “He made the decision to break from the Amish.”
“Then pe
rhaps I can be the one to bring him back.”
“That’s dumb! He’ll never go back.”
Ethan stepped down off the porch and scooped up a handful of soil. He returned and held it out to her. His hands were big, callused, and stained by the heavy, dark soil. “This is my life, Leah. Already Pa has begun to plow the fields. He will plant soon. And Ma will start her garden.” His voice was filled with yearning. “I love the land. It is in my soul.”
“You belong here, Ethan. With me.”
“I cannot stay.” He let the soil drop through his fingers. It pattered onto the wooden floor.
“But what about your job with Dr. Prater? And that school he wants to send you to?”
“I will write and tell him I cannot accept.”
“It’s a way for you to be something else. Somebody else.” Tears were pooling in her eyes. She had thought she’d cried them all out over Neil, but this fresh supply came from another area of her heart.
“I must return to my world.”
She sprang to her feet. “I’ve seen your world, Ethan. It’s a small, narrow world with no room for change. No room for people to think for themselves or to be different. It’s a boring world!” She bounded down the steps and ran out into the field. She ran until she thought her lungs would burst. When she stopped running, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands.
Ethan was beside her in seconds. “Leah—”
“Don’t touch me!” She twisted away.
“Please.”
“I thought you loved me.”
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed until she winced. “I do love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as you. Leaving you is like leaving half of myself behind—the half that laughs and loves and will always remember the world of the English. You are right—my world is small and narrow. And to some, it is even bleak and backward. But it is my world, Leah.” His eyes burned holes into hers. “Your world is big, and you have so much of it yet to see.”