Chapter 41
A bouquet of feelings. Not the pretty bouquet of tulips or daisies. The one Bonnie carried in her heart held roses, but also
dandelions, and mums, and thistles too. Thorns made clutching it painful. Happiness, uncertainty, anxiety, joy, even fear,
opened their blooms. Everyone was getting married. Even her mother.
Bonnie pushed the rollator harder. The paved road had ended. She should go back to the wedding reception, but the laughter,
the games, the singing, and the noise were too much. She couldn’t think. She needed to sort out her feelings.
Happy. She was happy, deliriously happy, for Sophia. She’d be over the moon for Carol if all went as hoped later this evening.
Her feelings about Mom and Theo refused to settle down in one basket. Her mother deserved to be happy. So did Theo. It had
been two and a half years since Dad died. Bonnie tightened her grip on the rollator handles. She shoved the rollator over
a bump in the rutted dirt road. The rollator rocked. She hung on. It settled.
Dad wouldn’t mind. He would be glad. Bonnie should be glad too. “I am glad,” she whispered. “I’m just...” Just what? Scared?
Not scared. She wasn’t a coward. She’d faced every challenge head-on her entire life.
Except one. The one with the dimples, blond hair, and a shy smile.
Oh, Elijah.
A strange man would live in Dad’s house. He’d sit in Dad’s chair at the breakfast table. He’d lounge in Dad’s chair in the
living room on winter nights, warming his feet by the fire while he read The Budget newspaper.
He’d sleep in Dad’s bedroom.
Every nook and cranny of the house, once filled with her father’s enormous presence, his sweaty scent, his laughter, his stern
rebukes, his stories, would belong to another man.
However nice, kind, however much Theo loved Bonnie’s mom, he would never be Dad.
Bonnie would face this new season with an obedient, willing heart.
The sun disappeared behind clouds that hovered just above the horizon. The day’s heat had begun to dissipate. The oaks, maples,
and poplars lining the road cast long shadows. A breeze heavy with rain yet to come dampened her face. She inhaled. The aroma
of fresh-cut alfalfa wafted, mixing with a potpourri of wildflowers—coneflowers, purple dame’s rockets, bee balm, and burdock.
Bonnie rolled the names around on her tongue. Virginia’s wildflowers were wonderful in their variety, colors, and hardiness.
She could take a note from their example.
The rollator twisted left, then right. The ruts deepened. Bonnie clutched the handles and straightened it. Her shoulders ached.
Her legs dragged.
Time to turn around. She didn’t even know where this road led. Go figure.
I get it, Gott. I don’t have to know. Faith is following even when I can’t see the destination. Easy for You to say.
The rollator plunged downward, twisted, rocked. Bonnie lost her grip. The rollator toppled. Bonnie followed.
In that split second, her brain registered what was coming. You’re falling. Stop it. Catch yourself. She threw out her arms.
Falling, falling. It took forever, yet only seconds, to fall.
She smashed into the sunbaked dirt face down.
The thud registered. The oomph as the air left her lungs. The jolt. The smack of her face against the rocky dirt.
Get up. She needed a minute. A minute to breathe. To take stock. Her nose hurt. Her poor nose always took a beating in falls. Her
knees burned. Her arms were okay. Maybe not. Her wrists hurt.
Get up.
She shifted and tried to rise on her hands and knees. Like a baby learning to crawl.
Her left wrist screamed with pain. The right one wasn’t too happy either.
“Ach, ach.” She panted. Easy, breathe through it, in, out. She had plenty of experience dealing with pain. And with getting up after a fall. None of it good. “Nee.”
Bonnie stretched back and lowered herself to the ground. Give it a second.
The minutes ticked by.
Come on. You can do it. The rollator rested on its side, within reach. If she could get to it, she could propel it upright, and use it to pull herself
up.
Okay, she had a plan. She gritted her teeth and tried again, this time on her forearms. She dragged herself to the rollator. Once there, she shoved it over. Pain shot through her wrist.
Ignoring it, she pulled herself up until her forearms settled on the rollator’s seat. “Come on, come on, up, up, up.”
Her legs, as usual, did nothing helpful. She could rise on her knees, but her calves and hamstrings refused to work together
to get her onto her feet. Frustration rocked her. “Gott, why? Sei so gut, why?”
She knew the answer. It had been the same since the first time she voiced the question. It was the equivalent of a father
telling his child, “Because I said so” or “It’s for your own good.”
Exhausted, she laid her head on the seat and closed her eyes. “So now what, Gott?”
Eventually someone would miss her. Mom would come looking for her. She’d be mad. “You know better! Did you hit your head? Are you all right?” All the same questions, all the same concern and worry. Mom didn’t deserve these trials.
Bonnie tried again. Same result.
I’m sorry, Mamm. I’m sorry, Gott.
Maybe if she could reach a tree, she could use a branch to pull herself up far enough to get her legs under her. Bonnie straightened.
She eyed the selection along the road. They were old trees that towered far above her. Not a single low-hanging bough.
Come on, Gott.
She laid her head down again. Titmice and bluebirds bickered in the trees. A hawk soared overhead. At least it wasn’t a vulture.
Bonnie half snorted, half laughed, but she didn’t sob. Crickets started their nightly chorus practice. Bullfrogs joined in.
Darkness crept along the road, night falling.
It was almost peaceful. Her breathing evened. Her heart slowed.
Hochmut. Pride went before a fall.
I know I’m a willful, ungrateful woman, Gott. Forgive me for being so full of myself. For wanting to do it all on my own.
For not wanting anyone’s help. For asking for Your help as a last resort. For whining because I don’t like the answer. For
being selfish. For refusing help when it was offered. Sei so gut, forgive me.
A dog barked. And barked. Louder and louder. Closer and closer.
Bonnie sat up. Stray dogs were common in these parts. People somehow thought they were being kind by dropping off their unwanted
dogs “in the country” or “on a farm.” Because farmers needed dogs? Because dogs could fend for themselves in the country?
The rationalizations made no sense.
Let it be friendly, sei so gut, Gott.
The barking got louder, more insistent. Bonnie tensed. She had nothing with which to defend herself. Not even a stick.
Eyes glowed in the growing twilight.
“Hey, pooch, hey, pooch.” Maybe if she talked to it, it would see that she was no threat, just a silly person who’d gone and
gotten herself in a pickle in the middle of the road. “I’m a friend, not a foe. I promise.”
It came closer. The bark softened, turned into a woof, woof .
A woof that sounded familiar. Bonnie peered into the dusk. The dog was big with a muscular body. A pit bull. Her heart thrummed.
Not every pit bull was mean. They got a bad rap, according to her dad. Blame the owners, not the poor dogs, he always said.
“Hey, pooch.”
“Woof, woof.”
Realization dawned.
“Slowpoke? Is that you?” The adrenaline faded so fast, Bonnie’s body went limp. Purple dots danced on her periphery. A rush of relief cascaded through her. “Slowpoke, you found me, you beautiful hund.”
Slowpoke bounded toward her. He covered her with sloppy, wet kisses, all the while professing his concern with whines deep
in his throat. Bonnie hugged his neck in return. He might be beautiful, but he also had stinky breath that smelled like rancid
meat. “It’s okay. I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“Bonnie! Bonnie?”
Shouts reverberated through the dusk. One voice. Elijah’s.
Danki, Gott. “Here! I’m here!”
A second later Elijah’s figure came into sight down the road. He ran toward her. “Bonnie, are you all right?”
“I’m okay. I’m fine. Now that this beautiful hund found me.”
Elijah didn’t slow down until he was almost on top of her. He plowed to a stop and dropped to his knees. “You fell? Obviously,
you fell. Did you hit your head? Are you hurt?”
“Nee, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Scowling, his face dark with fear, Elijah nudged Slowpoke out of his way. The dog hunkered down within reach, as if guarding
them both. Elijah touched her cheeks, her crumpled prayer covering, her shoulders, her arms. “You sure you didn’t hit your
head? You must be delusional if you think Slowpoke’s beautiful.”
Delusional with relief. Bonnie drew a shaky breath. “He’s the most handsome hund in the whole state of Virginia.”
And Elijah was the most handsome man in the country.
Elijah gently tugged her into his arms. Bonnie leaned against him and breathed in his man smell. His heart pounded in her
ear. His breathing had a hitch in it. She patted his chest. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m just so glad you found me.”
He pulled away and stared down at her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Walking. I needed to get away. To think.”
“By yourself?”
“I’m not that far from the house.” She couldn’t be. It took her forever to walk on smooth terrain, let alone a rocky road.
“Nee, you’re not.”
But too far for a woman with SMA using a rollator. The thought didn’t sting. It was a simple fact. She could take a walk.
Alone. During the day on a smooth, flat stretch of asphalt road or cement sidewalk. “I had a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“What a hypocrite I am. What a coward.”
“Harsh words. I would argue you aren’t either.”
“I see Mamm getting on with her life. And I’m too scared to even court, let alone commit my heart and soul.” She held her
throbbing wrist to her chest and closed her eyes for a second. “I want to help you, but I don’t want you or anyone else to
help me. I’m ridiculous. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not ridiculous. You’re human.” Elijah touched her cheek. His gaze met hers. “I’d like to think we can meet somewhere
in the middle. I won’t jump in to do things for you, if you’ll promise me to ask for help and accept it when you do need it.”
“Agreed.”
He touched her arm. “Are you hurt?”
“My wrist. I think it may be broken.” She held it out.
Elijah took it in his hands. He stared at the scraped, dirty heel of her hand. Then he bent his head and kissed her wrist.
“Es dutt mer. I shouldn’t have come out here on my own,” Bonnie whispered as she ran her free hand over his thick blond hair.
“Where’s your hat?”
“It fell off when I started running.” He kissed each finger, one by one. “What about your other wrist? Is it hurt?”
Bonnie held it out. “It’s sore, maybe sprained.”
Elijah dispensed kisses there as well. “We need to get you up to the house. The Hershbergers will have a first aid kit.”
“In a minute.” Bonnie kissed his cheeks and his neck. “What made you come out here?”
“I couldn’t find you. Nobody seemed to know where you were.” Elijah shifted so Bonnie could lean against him again. “Carol
thought you went home, but Opal said no. I said I had to ask you a question about my stuff at the shop. They were both grinning
at me when I asked, like they didn’t believe me.”
“I’m sure they didn’t, since you were telling a bald-faced lie.”
“I did want to ask you a question about the shop. Hmm, what was it?” He scrunched up his face as if thinking hard. Then he
snapped his fingers. “I know what it was. Did you mind closing for the day for the wedding?”
“I didn’t mind at all, and that’s a very weak excuse of a question.”
“Slowpoke was whining and carrying on like he’d lost his best friend. I didn’t want to ask your mamm or Sophia. I felt funny
asking anyone. It was like something an English man would do, like putting up a big billboard advertising my feelings—”
“Our feelings. That we’re courting.”
“Are we?”
God had spoken clearly. Stop stumbling around in the dark. Stop striking out on her own. Stop being so proud. It had nothing
to do with having a disability. God wanted all His children to trust Him. To be willing to show weakness. In Your weakness I am strong. Trust. Trust God. Trust Elijah. “We are. Es dutt mer I made it so hard. My pride got in the way. I can’t promise it won’t
again, but I’ll do my best.”
“Whew. Gut. I’m glad we cleared that up. I was afraid I was courting all by myself.” More kisses. “Is that what you came out here to think about? You and me?”
“Theo proposed. Mamm said jah.”
Elijah stuck his arm around her. “And you don’t know how to feel about it.”
“I’m happy for her, but it’s still hard to imagine this other man living in my dat’s house.”
“I’ve only talked to Theo a few times. I don’t know him, really.”
“He’s nice. Kind. A gut dat, according to Mamm, and a gut man.”
“But not your dat.”
“Nee.”
“Change is coming.”
“It is, but I know it can be gut. Sophia is so happy. Carol has Ryan. They’re taking chances. They’re trusting Gott’s plan.
Mamm’s trusting Gott’s plan even after losing Dat so suddenly. She’s not afraid to try again. I’m not a coward—”
“I could’ve told you that. If Sophia can do it, if Carol can do it, so can you.”
“I know.” Bonnie raised her head and slid her good arm around Elijah’s neck. He met her halfway.
More than a kiss. A promise.
When they parted, Elijah smiled. “We’ll take it slowly. You have a lot of change to deal with right now. I can wait. Just
know I’m not going anywhere.”
“Danki. Me neither.”
“Let’s get you back to the house.”
Elijah hopped to his feet. With ease he scooped Bonnie up and sat her on the rollator’s seat. “Would you like a ride, my friend?”
There was no shame in it. He was her friend, her partner, her future husband. He would care for her and she would care for
him. “I would like it very much.”
Letting someone else take care of her wasn’t a sign of weakness. It didn’t mean she couldn’t hold up her end. It simply meant
she was loved.