Love At Pebble Creek (Hope Chest of Dreams Book 5) Page 9

  Her words stopped him for a moment. Finally, he softened his voice. “I understand. And I truly hope that happens.”

  A long silence passed. “Do you have other plans?”

  She shook her head.

  “No?”

  When she turned to better face him, he noted an odd combination of sincerity and uncertainty in her eyes. To his surprise, it was as if she was searching for words to convey her thoughts.

  “I know this might sound like I’m trying to figure out my purpose. What God wants me to do with my life. In fact, that’s exactly what’s going on here. Jesse, you seem to know exactly what you want, and you don’t long for something that may not exist. Maybe I don’t know myself as well as I’d like to. I mean, I have a dream . . . but there must be something to go along with it. I’m just not sure what it is.”

  “Really?” Trying to ascertain the crux of what she’d just said, his response just came out. “When I think of everything I have, I long for nothing more. I’ve been raised in a good Christian family. Where we live . . . well, we don’t have to worry about crime. And we’ve got plenty of food on the table. I feel like I’m living a dream. But I understand how you feel about knowing where you really came from. Truly, I do.”

  As he studied the uncertainty in her eyes, he realized that, without a doubt, the Amish girl next to him was much, much different from him. Uncertainty about herself and her life prompted him to furrow his brows in doubt. They’d gone to church with the same people and had schooled together; yet it had suddenly become obvious to him that they didn’t think alike.

  One by one, she ticked off things they had on her fingers. “We’ve got great families. Loving parents. The best support any person could ever have within our church. We both live in the country, where there’s plenty of space and fresh air.”

  “And God blessed you with an extra bonus, Anna.”

  At that last statement, she sat up straighter, and the white flecks on her pupils danced with excitement.

  “You’re a very talented artist.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Jesse.”

  “That you’re talented?”

  She nodded. “Everything that you’ve just said. Maybe I needed to hear that. Especially now. For reassurance.”

  He lowered the pitch of his voice to a tone that was barely audible. “Especially now that you’re setting out to win a contest so you can nail your dream?”

  “Maybe. I’ve done lots of thinking over the years. And dreaming.” She hesitated and adjusted her hips as if deciding what to tell him. He sat very still, listening with interest.

  “You’re right about our upbringings. We’ve been raised with everything anyone could ask for. Yet we’re different. I know this might sound ungrateful to you, and that’s certainly not my intention. Of course I’m appreciative of the blessings God has given me. We’re surrounded by wonderful people, Amish and Englisch. But having been raised Amish . . .”

  She lifted the palms of her hands to the sky in a helpless gesture before resting them on her thighs. She cleared her throat, and her voice cracked when she finally spoke in an uncertain, sad tone. “I feel like I’ve never really been accepted for who I am. For my interests. For what I have to offer.”

  As he took in her statement, he studied her with curiosity. “Really?”

  She pressed her lips together in a straight line before responding. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  He noted the hesitation on her face.

  Finally, she spoke. “It just that I’ve grown into the woman my parents want me to be. The person my church expects me to be.” She pressed her lips together in a straight line and fidgeted with her fingers. “I’m having trouble explaining.”

  “Keep trying. I want to help, Anna. That is, if you’ll let me.”

  When her eyes widened in a combination of relief and surprise, he went on in his most reassuring tone. “And I’ll keep what you say confidential.”

  A sigh of relief escaped her. “I’ve never talked to anyone about this.”

  He smiled a little. “That’s exactly why you should tell me what’s bothering you. Obviously, I don’t have a degree in higher education, but sometimes I can figure things out and make good decisions.”

  She turned to better face him. “That’s just it. There’s so much I want to learn.”

  “Like what?”

  She pressed her palms flat over her knees just below her white apron and shrugged. “Jesse, I long to become a better artist. To learn another language. To explore other cultures. Arthur is such a small part of the world.”

  She pointed to her face. “Obviously, my birth family is Latino. Unfortunately, I know nothing about my heritage. There are so many people in the world. We can’t all be the same, and I’m wondering who God really intended me to be.”

  “What’s wrong with who you are?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. Like I said, the last thing I want to seem is ungrateful. My eltern adopted me, provided a good home, and, most importantly, taught me about God, and I’m forever indebted to them. I know this sounds complicated, but it’s true. I’m who I am because of how my parents have raised me. But Jesse, what if I had been raised by my birth mamma?”

  A long silence ensued. “I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t have been Amish. Because of that, I probably wouldn’t have had the same thoughts and beliefs. And the truth is that even though I’ve been raised here, I’ve always felt different than the girls I went to school with.”

  “How so?”

  The corners of her lips turned downward. She let out a sigh, and uncertainty edged her voice. “I don’t think you’d understand. And to be honest . . .” She shrugged. “I shouldn’t complain.”

  “Please tell me what you mean. Anna . . .” Their gazes locked in some sort of mutual understanding.

  “It frustrates me that my birth mother gave me up. Didn’t she love me?” Anna shrugged, and the distress in her eyes was visible. “Maybe her circumstances were bad, and she did what she believed was best?”

  After a short pause, she went on. “Growing up, I was different from the girls in our church. Even my gut friend, Mary. Not only because my hair’s darker than anyone else’s around, and my face, too, but growing up I heard comments that made me feel I was less of a person than everyone else. Hurtful things that made me feel I didn’t fit in.”

  He knew. Because he’d heard some of the comments.

  “I heard the phrase not really Amish. More than once. And, of course, the word adopted.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Mrs. Graber said it. And Saturday, after you pulled me out of the pond, I caught her looking at me. And the expression on her face was like I’d done something wrong. But she’s always looked at me like that. I think that, this time, she probably disapproved because my clothes were stuck to me. I’m not sure.”

  Her confession nearly stopped his thoughts. He couldn’t believe he’d heard correctly. As he contemplated what this girl had gone through, anger brewed inside him. But he definitely needed to show his support. Because there was so much turmoil going on inside Anna. And, unfortunately, some of it had to do with what was out of her control.

  “Anna, you’re a child of God. And Mrs. Graber had no right to say that. I’m sorry.”

  She smiled a little and offered an appreciative nod. “Thank you, Jesse. But don’t you see?”

  When he lifted a brow, her eyes reflected a sudden sadness. Disappointment edged her pitch. “Part of me, inside, is missing. Because I know nothing about my real background. So I always figured I was a backup.”

  His jaw dropped. He’d never realized there was so much chaos inside this beautiful, brave, talented girl. He had to pick up her spirits. Finally, he found the right words. He forced a confident smile, made a fist, and pressed it against his chin. “I’m guessing that your birth maemm loved you very much, Anna.”

  A surprised expression crossed her face. “Why do you say that?”

>   “Because she had you.” He paused, not wanting to make the situation worse than it was. “I’m not worldly at all, but I do know that the world isn’t always protective and kind. Or Christian. And it’s a known fact that some pregnant women elect not to bring their babies into this world.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise. “Jah. I know.”

  “But your maemm . . . Anna, she had you. She gave birth to you. Women in this world don’t always do that. And because she kept you, to me, that alone says to me that she loved you.” He softened his voice. “It must have been extremely difficult for her to have let you go. I’m sure she made the very best decision she could. For you. And now you’re here.”

  He saw her face light up. He let out a breath of relief.

  Anna softened her voice. “I wish I could talk to her. It would ease my pain if only I knew her story. Why she gave me up. If it was because she couldn’t afford me . . .” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I wonder if she’d kept me, what my name would be. What kinds of friends I’d have.” She lifted her palms and shrugged. “I have no way of finding out. And you must understand now why I wonder where I really belong.”

  Jesse swallowed. “This, I’m sure of. I don’t ever want anyone to hurt you again. Or for you to think that you don’t belong.”

  He lowered his lashes and leaned closer to her, looking her directly in the eyes to make sure she knew he meant what he said. “For what it’s worth, Anna King, you’re a blessing. The most special person I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter Six

  The contest was coming closer. August was passing quickly. Anna sat in her room on the navy rug next to her hope chest. While she considered her recent conversation with Jesse, the mouthwatering aroma of chicken broth filled the air.

  The roaster she’d put in the oven would be done by the time she went to sleep. She would hear the timer go off.

  Her parents were still at the bakery. I can’t wait for things to get back to normal. I’m lonely. Automatically, the thought of her birth mother came into her head. Her mamma. That’s what she called her.

  Mamma, did you know I was a girl? Did you get to hold me? I don’t know why you gave me up, but I forgive you. There’s so much I’d like to find out, but even more I’d like to tell you. Unfortunately, I don’t even know your name.

  A lone tear slid down Anna’s cheek, but she didn’t try to catch it. She looked around her room. There wasn’t much in it, really. Two pegs on the wall. A twin bed with a beautiful handmade quilt of blues and creams that she’d made herself.

  Beside her bed was a simple oak desk and a chair her daed had bought from Conrad’s Cabinets. The light scent of lemon Pledge hovered in the air. Light blue curtains attached to holders to allow a grand view of the backyard and their farm during daylight.

  She opened her hope chest and pulled out the sketch she’d started for the contest. As she held it in front of her and studied it, she frowned. Because the scene she wanted to capture on paper didn’t pull her in as she wanted it to.

  Perhaps it’s because I don’t know what’s going on inside the mind of the Anna who wasn’t adopted. The expression on her face . . . it doesn’t reflect anything. How would I feel if I had been raised Englisch? She shrugged.

  As she studied her work in progress, the cookout at Mary Conrad’s house floated in and out of her thoughts, and amusement lifted the corners of her lips as she recalled her and her dear friend in the pond’s murky waters. When they’d been drenched from head to foot.

  At the time, the scene had been anything but funny. But now that it was over, and she, Mary, and the boys were safe and sound, Anna grinned at the recollection of the two girls, soaking wet, muddy, and still wearing their long dresses. Anna laughed out loud.

  Mary’s favorite flower is a rose. Peach-colored, and I’ll sketch one for her wall. Automatically, Anna stood and stepped to the window to take in the family farm as the sun slipped into the horizon. As she did so, she recalled Jesse’s dream.

  She arched a curious brow. It sounded like a simple goal. But was it? Anna was fully aware of how difficult it was these days to get farmland. When it did go up for sale, it was expensive.

  And that was exactly why many Amish in her church did jobs outside of farming. Most of the land in their area had been passed down through families. But she yearned with all her heart for Jesse’s dream to happen. As much as she prayed for her own to materialize.

  As she recalled their most recent conversation, she thought of her hope chest and the special sketches inside it. While she considered Jesse Beiler, his reassuring words from the afternoon resonated with her until a newfound sense of hope and relief filled her chest, and her tears stopped. “You’re the most special person I know.”

  As evening sounds floated through her window screen, she tried to absorb the significance of his words. Of course, she couldn’t read too much into what he’d said. After all, he was kind, and she sensed that his aim was always to make her feel better.

  She pressed her lips together thoughtfully and dared to imagine that he felt something for her. Other than friendship. Don’t go there.

  But she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Finally, she returned to the rug next to her hope chest. She held her contest drawing with both hands in front of her. Until a compelling idea struck her.

  Setting that sketch to her right, she began drawing what was inside her heart. A couple of hours later, she looked at her work. And smiled.

  Without a doubt, she was in love with the art in front of her. It was Jesse. As she took in his face, what was inside him was obvious. Kindness, gentleness, and something so rare that wasn’t tangible.

  She’d taken note of every small detail of his face when he’d rescued her from the storm. And she’d been able to capture those very details on paper so that the visage looked real.

  But Jesse is real. He’s the most special person I’ve ever met. And I will tell him so.

  * * *

  Days later, laughter filled the Beiler home when Jesse stepped inside.

  “Hello!”

  Three of his brothers, Gabriel, Isaiah, and Jonah, stood in front of him with their wives while their kinder played in the background. The large battery fan made a light noise as the blades whipped round and round in a circle. The mouthwatering aroma of chicken and dumplings filled the room. Jesse’s stomach growled.

  “Uncle Jess!”

  The moment he was inside, the youngsters rushed to him, nearly knocking him down, and he gave each one an affectionate hug.

  While they embraced, Gabriel spoke. “How’s everything at the Kings’ place?”

  Maemm waved a dismissive hand in the air. “We’ll find out after the prayer. Time to eat!”

  At that time, everyone made their way to the large table and two card tables that had been put up. “I’ll be in after I wash up!” Jesse told them.

  “Don’t take long!”

  Quick steps took him to the hall bathroom. He rubbed his palms together and breathed in the cherry-scented soap that lathered between his fingers. An amused grin curved his lips. When Maemm said it was time to eat, she meant it. No one argued.

  As he dried his hands on the navy towel, without warning, this afternoon’s conversation with Anna floated through his mind. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a deep breath and furrowed his brows.

  So much had happened since he’d begun working for her father. He let out a low whistle. He’d never guessed how deep Anna’s feelings went about her identity and what she’d gone through her entire life.

  I can’t imagine hearing such hurtful things. No wonder Anna isn’t exactly sure of who she is. What she overheard about herself as a child set her back. Made her doubt her self-worth.

  Maemm’s order made him rush. “Jesse! Hurry up, now!”

  He quickly took his seat opposite Jonah and bowed his head while his daed said the prayer. “Amen.”

  When Jesse lifted his head, his eltern conversed with one another wearing se
rious expressions. As always, his daed’s voice was stern. “Did you hear that the farm a couple of miles north is going up for sale?”

  His mother nodded. “Jah. Word has it that Judith and Howard Norris are relocating to Arizona. And from what I hear, their move is long overdo because Howard has severe health issues. His doctor recommended a dry climate.”

  Jesse’s father spoke in a low tone while he passed the casserole to his wife. “This mornin’, I heard in town that they’ve already got their eyes on a place in Scottsdale and plan to put their farm up for sale within the next few weeks.”

  Jesse swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes and froze in his seat as he absorbed the significance of what he’d just heard. The particular parcel would be just large enough for him to farm and to make a good living. A little over a hundred acres.

  At the small tables, there wasn’t a peep from the children. After some comments by his brothers, Jesse turned to his daed. “Is it really true?” he asked.

  Maemm looked at him and smiled a little with a nod.

  Jesse piped in, “Their farm’s really going up for sale?” He tapped the toe of his boot against the wooden floor to a fast, nervous beat.

  As usual, his father’s tone lacked enthusiasm. He was the antithesis of Jesse’s mother, who loved to smile and laugh. But people respected David Beiler for his calm, steady leadership in the church.

  “From what we’ve heard. And you know, Howard has permanent lung damage from pneumonia.” His mother lifted her chin and glanced around the table. “Hopefully, they’ll both be healthier out west.”

  Jesse lowered the pitch of his voice to a combination of hopefulness and anxiousness. “Any idea what they’ll ask?”

  His daed furrowed his brows. “Not yet, but it’s no secret that those acres are prime. And nowadays, farmland’s hard to come by ’round here. And when it becomes available, it goes fast.”

  Jesse tapped the toe of his boot again and leaned forward as the news floated through his head. “Sure hope I’ll be able to afford it.”