Chapter 24
Had she ever felt more alone? Patti couldn’t remember.
She probably had. The days after her aunt died and she’d moved into the house she’d inherited had been awfully lonely.
Unable to sleep at night, she would wander the empty halls, half expecting to hear her aunt’s voice filtering through a doorway.
Of course, it never came. Instead, she’d been surrounded by her aunt’s belongings, knowing that it was time to put them up for auction but being reluctant to give away those last pieces of her family.
Now, as she sat next to the firepit in her backyard, soaking in the heat and gazing into the flames, Patti compared her current mood with the way she’d felt all those years ago.
They weren’t the same.
Not even close.
When she was mourning for her aunt, when it was sometimes difficult to get out of bed,she’d done a lot of soul searching.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d been struggling to find herself and where she fit in her life—and where her future was headed. When her head had finally cleared and she was productive again, she’d made a great number of lists.
She took note of what made her happy. And what did not.
She contemplated what she was good at, and came to terms with what she wasn’t.
She talked to God a lot, and He’d seemed happy to listen. She’d been grateful for that. However, He hadn’t been in a hurry to give her a sign of His wishes. She’d been so frustrated. Sometimes she’d even sat in this very spot and asked him to let her know what to do.
Which, now that she thought about it, was all very silly. Even the greatest of Christ’s disciples had to fumble about on their own from time to time.
But one thing she had learned during that period was that it was possible to become content. She’d mostly found peace with her port-wine stain on her neck. She’d been filled with hope for her new opportunities, too. She’d felt a lot of satisfaction about her business.
Yes, that was the big difference between now and then.
In those days, she’d been so pleased to have her talent for math and organization.
And when she’d begun to gain clients—all from word of mouth—she’d felt very proud.
Every night when she said her prayers, she thanked the Lord for giving her so many gifts.
She still was grateful. Her job was flourishing, and she had a wide circle of friends now. People who enjoyed her skills and help and her company. She was rarely lonely anymore, and the halls of the house now felt comfortable and familiar.
But now Patti was kind of starting to think that the Lord hadn’t had her back, after all. Maybe she’d made some mistakes and He’d decided to give her some repercussions.
How else could she explain why He’d gone and done something that she didn’t know how to handle?
Why had He allowed her to fall in love with the wrong person? Patti had no earthly idea.
All she did know was that the feeling was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be. She felt giddy and attractive and tentative and scared. Sometimes, she was pretty sure she felt all those things at the same time! Why, it was a wonder she didn’t feel sick to her stomach all day long.
Now she understood what so many of her friends had talked about when they’d shared stories about their husband or wife. Now she understood that lovesick expression Kelsey had worn whenever she spied Preacher Richard.
Kelsey had been so in love that she didn’t care how silly or moonstruck she’d looked. And no wonder everyone who witnessed it had only smiled. They’d known. They’d known that addictive feeling.
So, she was grateful for that.
But she wasn’t able to understand why the Lord had blessed her with such an experience if it was wrong. Why did He give her something so beautiful just to take it all away?
Staring into the flames, she felt a lump form in her throat.
Determined not to cry, she allowed anger to fuel her words. “Why, Gott?” she whispered into the night. “Why did you let me fall in love just to make it be the wrong person? Haven’t I been through enough heartache?”
And that was what was hardest, Patti decided. She’d already lost both her parents and her favorite person in the world. She lived alone and had been forced to do care for the land and a house with little help. He’d already given her a birthmark that had made her a target for bullies.
Weren’t those things enough?
She blinked.
But if she hadn’t lost her family, she would have never had such a cozy, wonderful place to live.
The Lord had also given her a fine mind and a talent for numbers.
And because of those gifts, she’d been able to have a wonderful career.
It made her feel fulfilled and enabled her to pay men to come out and help with the mowing and heavy yardwork.
Finally, she’d also realized that her birthmark wasn’t all that “terrible,” after all. So many other people had diseases or ailments that ruined their bodies. What was an unsightly mark compared to that?
“I’m sorry, Lord. I guess I have been given more than enough. I shouldn’t be so greedy.”
“Patti? Who are you talking to?”
She looked up to see Martin himself walking her way. Glad for the dark skies, at least he wouldn’t be able to see her blush.
“Martin, I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I was out for a walk and spied your fire. I came over to make sure it wasn’t unattended.” He stopped. Scanned the area. Peeked at her back door. “Do you have a guest over?”
“Hmm?”
“Your conversation.” He was beginning to appear a bit impatient. Like he thought she was playing a game or something with him.
She was not. “Nope. No one is here. Just me.”
“Oh. It sounded as if you were conversing with something.”
“I was. I was chatting with God.”
His expression, lit by firelight, eased as he sat down on the chair across from her. “How’s it going?”
She waved a hand. “About like you’d expect. I’ve been doing a lot of talking and He’s doing a lot of listening.”
“That’s not a surprise. Is it?”
“Nee.” She poked at the firepit with the end of a stick. “But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.”
She poked one of the smoldering logs. When it didn’t catch, she stepped closer and gave it another jab.
“Hey, how about I give you a hand with that?”
“I don’t need a hand.”
“Of course not.” His voice was even, but his lips were pursed. Like he was forcing himself not to say anything more.
Studying his expression, she realized that Martin was truly worried that she was going to burn herself. “I’m worrying you, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
Patti didn’t bother hiding her amusement. Not at him—at herself. “I guess I look like a fool?”
“Not at all.” Before she could protest, he took the stick out of her hand. “It’s more like you maybe don’t have your mind on the fire as much as some other things.”
“I can’t deny that that is the case.”
“Want to talk about it?”
And admit that he was the focus of all her thoughts and prayers? “It’s probably best we didn’t talk about it.”
“Why not?”
She literally almost ached to lie. To tell him a fabricated story, one that he would believe. Something mundane and boring. Something that he would soon forget.
But it felt as if that was what she’d been doing for most of her life. Whenever she’d felt things that might make another person uncomfortable, she’d bury them inside of her.
She used to tell herself it was because she didn’t like confrontation, but now she knew better. She’d been too afraid of losing another person whom she’d wanted to like her.
“If you really want to hear, it might be best for you to sit down.”
The mild curiosity that had been shining in his eyes faded into worry. Martin walked to the opposite chair and sat down. Faced her.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Or, maybe it was actually a short one. Or, maybe she wasn’t even sure? Whenever she was around him, nothing in her orderly life seemed to make sense.
She took a deep breath, remembered the promise she’d just made to herself, and forced herself to continue.
“I used to think I was falling in love with you, Martin Schrock.”
She could practically see every muscle in his body tense. “Used to?”
“Jah.” Forcing herself to admit the rest, she averted her eyes. “Now I know that I am.”
“So you’re saying that you love me?”
It was still too hard to meet his eyes. “Yes. I love you so much that I can’t do anything about it. It’s done.”
“Patti, you know I love you, too.”
She turned her head. Met his gaze. “Martin, you came to Walden to learn how to be Amish. You’ve tried to farm, you’ve helped with horses, you’ve attempted to drive a buggy.”
“Buggies.” He grimaced. “I never could figure out how to tell a horse what to do.”
“Oh, I know. I think everyone in Walden knows.” She smiled at him. “You tried different jobs and you tried to be happy. I know you did.”
“Everything you’re saying is true.”
“I’ve tried to help you.”
“You did help.”
“And I certainly talked to your sisters and your grandparents about your struggles. But I still think I failed you.”
He shook his head slowly. “You didn’t. Patti, you could never fail me.”
“But I did, Martin. You shared your feelings for me, but I was too afraid to admit mine. I mean, not completely. You tried so hard to fit into my world, but I did little in yours. All I did was visit you for a few days.”
“You’ve done more than that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But the outcome is still the same.”
He looked at the fire. Lifted his head to study her. In the distance the wind rustled through the trees. In the summer, fireflies lit the sky, twinkling like old friends. Now, it felt like the only two people in the world were Martin and her.
Maybe that was the Lord’s doing. After all, hadn’t she just been praying for a sign? For some help? She wanted to feel like he was her world.
No, she realized. He already was.
“So . . . what are you thinking?” he asked.
It was time. It was time to tell both him and herself the truth—and then face the consequences. “I think giving up a life with you would be unbearable.”
He inhaled sharply. His entire body seemed to tense.
Every muscle poised to spring, but whether it was forward toward her or away from everything they were .
. . she didn’t know. “Patti, I can’t afford to misunderstand you.
” Every word sounded as if it were being yanked out of him. Inch by painful inch.
Seeming like he was attempting to collect himself, Martin swallowed. Sounding a little stronger, he continued. “I don’t want to misunderstand what you’re saying.”
“Misunderstand?”
“Yes. What does a life with me look like to you?”
It was time. It was time to just say the words. To jump in with both feet. “A life with you looks like an English one, Martin. In Cleveland.”
His entire expression froze. “You’d be willing to give this up for me?”
“I’d be willing to give up almost anything for you. I love you.”
Martin stared at her. Closed his eyes. Seemed to say a prayer. Or, maybe he was coaching himself?
Nerves began to take hold of her. Doubts set in. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she should’ve waited to tell him her thoughts a lot longer.
But then he stood up. Walked around the firepit. Reached for her hand. Pulled her to her feet.
When she opened her mouth to protest. To ask what he was doing . . .
It turned out that no explanation was needed. Because he was kissing the life out of her, holding her so close to him that she was pretty sure she could feel his heartbeat against her own.
Her arms snaked around his neck. She somehow managed a way to press even closer and kissed him with everything she was.
It was unseemly. Maybe even too passionate and reckless for two people not even engaged.
But her heart didn’t seem to care. And honestly, neither did the rest of her. For so long, she’d put everything and everyone above her own selfish wants. Usually, that was fine. Patti liked being needed.
So, as for tonight? It seemed tonight was the exception.