Chapter 2
Y ou sure you don’t want to come with me?”
Jalon tapped his fingers against the wood banister. He was standing next to the staircase in the living room, waiting for Leanna to leave. Keeping his gaze on his feet as if he were studying them, he said, “ Nee. Like I said, I have lots of work to do around here.”
“You could at least take a short vacation.” Leanna set her suitcase near the front door, then adjusted the tie on her black bonnet. “A couple of days won’t hurt. You finally got a Saturday off today.”
He could use a vacation, that was true. But even if he would take one, Mesopotamia—or Mespo, as it was sometimes called—was the last place he would go. “Maybe next time.” A blatant lie, one he hoped God would forgive.
“You always say that. You know Mamm and Daed would like to see you.”
That statement worked to make him feel guilty, but not enough to change his mind.
His fingers drummed faster. He did miss his parents, who had moved to Mespo back in May.
He missed his mother especially ... his father to a lesser extent.
Harsh, but true. When they left, his father kicked the dust from Birch Creek off his feet.
“I’m tired of trying to make something of this place,” Daed had said, stretching his arm toward the ten acres of land he had struggled to farm for almost thirteen years.
“It’s time yer mamm and I moved back to Mespo.
You and Leanna are welcome to come with us. ”
They had both refused. Leanna told her parents Birch Creek was her home, and Jalon agreed.
It was his home, too, and had been since he was eleven.
But there was a stronger reason he was staying in Birch Creek, and it had nothing to do with the small town being his home.
No, he wasn’t going back to Mespo. Not to visit, and especially not to live.
“Jalon?” Leanna snapped her fingers in front of him. “You in there somewhere?”
He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he brushed Leanna’s hand away from his face. He gave her an irritated look, able to look her straight in the eyes because of her unusual height, which was a hair over six feet. “Stop annoying me.”
“Always with the witty comebacks.” She laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle because she was right.
He wasn’t witty. He spoke plainly and there was nothing wrong with that.
Leanna, however, was quick with her tongue, sometimes a little too sharp.
A quality that seemed to keep the single men in Birch Creek away.
But if his sister was meant to get married, God would make it happen.
As for him, he’d never had plans to find a bride.
Until now.
His mind switched gears as he thought of Phoebe.
Sweet Phoebe, with her friendly letters he eagerly looked forward to.
He hadn’t expected for them to become pen pals, but after she responded to his note thanking her for returning his letter, he’d decided to write her back.
An impulse choice that had surprised him, but ended up being one of the best decisions of his life.
Initially he thought the relationship was perfect as pen pals. She gave him the companionship he needed, but without strings attached. There had been a time when he didn’t mind strings with women, mostly because he hadn’t respected them. That tended to happen when alcohol was involved.
But this past year had been one of changes, all for the better. Which meant he kept his distance from the women in his district. Some of them knew of his past problem with liquor, others had heard rumors. In the end it didn’t matter much, since he wasn’t interested in anyone.
Then he and Phoebe started writing to each other, and his world changed.
He wasn’t sure exactly when that shift in their letter writing had occurred in his heart, but once it happened he couldn’t turn back.
He hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been, and not because he stopped drinking.
Sure, he had Leanna and his neighbors, the Yoders, to keep him company.
He’d also recently renewed his friendship with Solomon Troyer, a former drinking buddy who was working through his own problems, fighting his own battle for sobriety.
No, his loneliness didn’t stem from a lack of friends. Something was missing in his life, an emptiness Phoebe had unknowingly exposed. Maybe it had been there all along, shrouded in alcohol and guilt.
“There you geh again, getting lost in yer own thoughts.” Leanna huffed and crossed her gangly arms. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
Jalon grabbed her suitcase and opened the door. “You don’t want to miss yer taxi.”
“It’s not here yet.”
He pointed outside with his thumb. She peeked around the doorjamb as a silver sedan pulled into the driveway.
“Oh. Well, that was gut timing.”
“How long will you be in Mespo?”
She shrugged, then clipped a black shawl around her shoulders and took her suitcase from Jalon. “Since Daniel doesn’t have much work for me right now, mei stay is open-ended.”
Jalon nodded. His sister often helped out Daniel Raber, who had moved to Birch Creek the previous year and started a small engine repair business.
She had nearly tripped over herself trying to convince Daniel to hire her as extra help.
Leanna might not be able to make toast without burning it, but she could take apart any size engine and put it back together blindfolded.
She’d offered to do just that when, finally, Daniel agreed to hire her on.
“Business is slow during the winter, ya ?”
“I guess.” Her face pinched. “We don’t have the yard machine repairs like we do the rest of the year. But I think it has more to do with Daniel’s brother taking on the extra work.” She wrinkled her nose further. “He’s an odd duck.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“Ha-ha. I mean a really odd duck. First off, he’s a terrible mechanic. And he’s always writing down stuff in notebooks and journals.”
“ Nix wrong with that.”
“Lots of notebooks and journals. Piles of them. That’s not normal.”
“Then you two should get along great.”
“He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, either.
” She looked at her own hands, which were callused but clean.
“He’s kind of a wimp, if you ask me.” Before Jalon could chastise her for being unkind, or better yet, tease her for knowing so many details about a man she claimed not to like, she waved him off.
“I know, I know. That’s not nice of me. I can’t help it, though. He gets on mei nerves.”
Jalon knew she’d continue talking about Roman Raber for the next ten minutes if he didn’t shift her attention. He opened the door wider. “ Yer taxi is going to take off without you.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” She stepped through the doorway, then spun around. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled a letter from her purse and grinned. “From yer girlfriend .”
Trying to keep himself from snatching the letter out of Leanna’s hand, he slowed his movements and took the envelope from her. He folded it and put it in his pocket as if it were no more important than a piece of junk mail.
“Don’t you want to know what yer sweetums has to say?”
He didn’t know what a sweetums was. Probably some stupid word Leanna made up to bug him. “ Mei mail is none of yer business.”
“ Ya , it is. I’m yer sister and I care about you.”
“You’re mei sister and you’re nosy. Maybe you should keep yer mind on finding someone for yerself .”
“As I’ve told Mamm , I’m a confirmed female version of a bachelor. I have nee intentions of marrying.”
“So you intend to live here and torture me?”
She tilted her head. “Now that you’re behaving yerself , yes.” Her expression turned serious. “I’m glad you’re behaving, by the way. Can I finally stop worrying about you?”
“ Ya. I’m done with drinking, Leanna.”
“ Gut. That leaves me free to be a burr under yer saddle for the rest of yer life. Unless Phoebe has something to say about that.”
He grimaced despite the glimmer of hope that maybe one day Phoebe would have a say about a lot of things in his life. “Bye, Leanna.”
She rolled her brown eyes. “Bye, Jalon. Try not to be so boring while I’m gone.”
He gave her a half-grin, trying to decide if he should be insulted. Boring? He was quiet. Practical. Serious-minded, especially since he was off the bottle for good. But not boring. At least Phoebe didn’t think so or she would have stopped writing to him.
After Leanna left he pulled out the letter and sat down in the hickory rocker near the woodstove.
January 10
Dear Jalon,
I want to meet you in person, too ...
He blew out a breath. He’d hemmed and hawed over telling her he wanted to meet, wondering if it was too soon to bring it up.
They’d only been writing for about two months, but he felt as though he’d known Phoebe all his life.
But if he did put the question out there, he’d considered, what if she refused?
He’d feel like a fool. He’d also be heartbroken, which bothered him more than the possibility of a dented ego.
In the end he gave in and told her how he felt.
Now that he had her answer, he was relieved she hadn’t put him off.
He smiled and continued to read. Before long his smile slid away.
... but we should wait until spring. The weather is so unpredictable in the winter, and I wouldn’t want you to get stuck in the snow. Or have an accident on the ice. I would feel terrible if something happened to you while you were trying to get to Dover.
He leaned back in the rocker, dejected. It had been too soon after all.