The Hope Jar Read online

  While Michelle took the dishes over to the sink, she listened to Mary Ruth and Willis talk, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying because they spoke in their native Pennsylvania Dutch. “I’ll take the food out to the hogs now,” she said, turning to Willis. “When I come back inside, I’ll help Mary Ruth get the dishes done.”

  Mary Ruth flapped her hand. “Don’t bother about that. I’ll take care of those this morning. After you feed the hogs, feel free to do something you’d enjoy for the rest of the day. Your cousin Lenore will be here around six o’clock, and we’ll eat shortly after, so that gives you plenty of time to do whatever you want today.”

  Michelle shrugged and headed out the back door with a large bowl of table scraps that had been sitting on the end of the counter. What is it I’m supposed to do today? I’m not used to having time on my hands. I’ve kept busy doing something ever since I got here.

  Michelle had been staying with Mary Ruth and Willis for ten days, but already she was in somewhat of a routine. She liked keeping busy and helping the Lapps. And every night when she retired to bed, sleep came easy after a day of activities from living and working on a farm.

  Outside, Michelle paused to look up at the clear blue sky. Today had started out to be a beautiful morning. Yesterday’s rain had taken away the humidity.

  Michelle drew a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air that reached her nostrils. How nice to no longer deal with smog or the smell of vehicle fumes, like she’d been accustomed to in Philadelphia.

  She glanced toward the country road. Maybe after I feed the hogs, I’ll take a walk to see the nearby area. Or I could spread a blanket on the grass and lay out in the sun and relax with a book. I haven’t done that in a long while.

  Still undecided, Michelle moved across the yard. She’d only made it halfway to the hog pen when the whinny of a horse startled her. At that moment, she felt something brush against her leg. Taking another step forward, Michelle stumbled over a rock and fell facedown in a mud puddle.

  Ezekiel arrived at the Lapps’ in time to see a young woman with long auburn hair fall flat on her face in the mud. The bowl she’d been holding, along with all its contents, went flying. He pulled his horse up to the hitching rail and hopped out of the buggy. “Are you okay, miss?” he hollered. Running over to the young lady, he held his hand out to help her up, but she refused to take it.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Never better.” Groaning, she clambered to her feet, wiping off the mud that stuck to her clothes. “Bet it was a stupid cat that brushed my leg.”

  Ezekiel looked around. He didn’t see any sign of a cat. “Are ya hurt?”

  “No, I’m not hurt.” She swiped a hand across her dirty face. “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Ezekiel King. What’s your name? Don’t believe I’ve met you before.” He suppressed a chuckle when she squinted at him and a hunk of mud fell off her eyelid. Looking beyond the smudges of dirt, Ezekiel couldn’t help noticing her beautiful blue-green eyes, which seemed to grow deeper in color as her fair skin turned a blushing red.

  “My name is Mich—I mean, I’m Sara Murray, Willis and Mary Ruth’s granddaughter.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Lenore’s the only granddaughter I’ve ever known about.”

  “Well, it just goes to show you don’t know everything.” She bent down, grabbed the empty bowl, and dashed toward the house.

  Ezekiel started after her, but then remembered he needed to secure his horse and get the honey he’d brought along. He hurried back to his buggy, eager to get to know about this English woman who claimed to be the Lapps’ granddaughter. Despite her obvious irritation with him, Ezekiel thought she was kind of cute.

  Michelle raced into the house, hurried up the stairs, and made a beeline for the bathroom to get cleaned up. It was bad enough she’d fallen on her face in the mud, but to have done it in front of someone she didn’t even know was humiliating. The long-legged Amish man with thick brown hair probably thought she was a klutz. He seemed to want to carry on a conversation with her. But Michelle had no intention of remaining in the yard, looking like such a mess. She glanced down at herself and grimaced. What a way to meet a friend of the Lapps, especially a guy who wanted to help me up. And to make matters worse, she’d almost given him her real name.

  “I’ll end up getting myself thrown out of the Lapps’ home if I’m not careful,” Michelle mumbled as she turned on the shower and threw her dirty clothes in a heap. At least she had a robe in the bathroom to put on till she went to her bedroom for clean clothes. Right now she just wanted to get cleaned up. Hopefully, by the time she went downstairs, the nice-looking Amish fellow would be gone.

  Ezekiel stood on the Lapps’ back porch, wondering why no one had answered his knock. Could the granddaughter be the only one here today? If so, maybe she was too embarrassed to let him in. He lifted his hand to knock again when Mary Ruth came up from the outside cellar entrance.

  “Wie geht’s?” she said, smiling at him. “Did you bring the hunnich I ordered?”

  He nodded and gestured to the small box he held in one hand. “How are you today, Mary Ruth?”

  “I couldn’t be better. Danki for asking.” Her smile widened. “The weather’s beautiful today, jah?”

  He nodded again.

  “Don’t you just love how clean everything looks and smells, after a soaking rain like we had yesterday?”

  Mary Ruth was right. Ezekiel thought everything looked refreshed—except for the young woman who’d run into the house, all embarrassed a few minutes ago. “I agree. Tonight when it’s dark, I may get my flashlight and catch some night crawlers out in the yard. The rain and now this warmth we’re having should make it easy to search for worms for fishing.”

  When Mary Ruth gave no response, Ezekiel cleared his throat. “By the way, I met a red-haired woman when I pulled my rig in a few minutes ago. Said she was your grossdochder, Sara.”

  “That’s right. She was taking some scraps to the hogs.” Mary Ruth set the basket of laundry on the ground underneath the clothesline and joined him on the porch.

  He bit back a chuckle, still remembering how the poor girl had looked when she fell in the mud. “Umm … Your granddaughter never made it to the pigpen.”

  Mary Ruth tipped her head. “Oh? Did something happen?”

  “Sure did.” Ezekiel explained about Sara falling in the mud, and the table scraps flying every which way on the grass. “I introduced myself, and after Sara said she was your granddaughter, she took off for the house like a bee was in hot pursuit.”

  Mary Ruth put both hands on her cheeks. “Oh dear. Not a good thing to happen on her birthday.”

  Ezekiel’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m verhuddelt though. I didn’t even know you had another granddaughter, much less anything about her being here on her birthday.”

  “No need to be confused.” Mary Ruth grasped the door handle. “Come inside with the honey and I’ll explain.”

  As Ezekiel sat at the kitchen table, listening to Mary Ruth tell him about how they’d received a letter from Rhoda’s daughter saying her mother had died, his interest was piqued. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mary Ruth. Please tell Willis I extend my condolences to him too.”

  “Danki, I will.”

  “How long will your granddaughter be staying with you?”

  “We don’t know for sure. Sara said she’s currently out of a job, so we told her she can remain here for as long as she wants.” Mary Ruth’s tone sounded hopeful. “Willis and I would be happy if she stayed indefinitely. She’s such a nice young woman, and having her around makes it feel almost like we have our daughter back.”

  Ezekiel didn’t know a lot about the Lapps’ daughter, Rhoda, but he had heard his folks talk about her a couple of times over the years. Mom mentioned once how bad she felt for Mary Ruth and Willis, having their only daughter run off and never hearing from her again. To find out Rhoda had recently died and that the Lapps had a granddaughter they’d known nothing about was q
uite a shock. “So today’s her birthday?”

  “Jah. She’s twenty-four years old.” Mary Ruth’s eyes brightened. “We’re having a little birthday supper for Sara this evening, and her cousin Lenore will be joining us. I think it’s good for Sara to spend some time with other people her age and not just us old folks.”

  Ezekiel shook his head. “You’re not old. Leastways, neither you nor Willis seems old to me.”

  She chuckled, fanning her face with her hand. “It’s very kind of you to say that.”

  “I meant it. You and Willis are young at heart, and it shows by the things you say and do.”

  “Well, we both try to keep a positive attitude and enjoy doing things outdoors and keeping active. Maybe that’s why we seem young at heart.” She picked up the jar of honey and tapped the lid. “Look at this beautiful golden color. I bet this’ll be as good as all the other honey you’ve brought us.”

  “Did you finish the last jar already? It wasn’t long ago that I brought one by.”

  “No, we still have some, but now, with Sara here, I thought she might enjoy the honey as much as we do, and I didn’t want to run out.” Mary Ruth went to the cupboard and took out an old coffee can. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Same as usual.” Ezekiel heard footsteps, and he glanced toward the door leading to the living room, expecting the red-haired woman to join them in the kitchen. But she never did. It could have been Willis he’d heard, or if it was Sara, she’d gone into a different room.

  “I suppose I’d better go.” After Mary Ruth paid him, Ezekiel rose from his chair. “I have an errand to run before I head for home.” He started for the door, but stopped and turned around when she called out to him.

  “Say, I have an idea. If you’re not busy tonight, why don’t you join us for supper? I’d like you to get to know Sara, and it’ll give you a chance to visit with Lenore.”

  I wonder if Mary Ruth and my mamm are in cahoots. He held his hands behind his back, rubbing a tight spot on the left side. Ezekiel’s mother had been trying for a couple of years to get him and Lenore together. She kept saying Lenore and Ezekiel had a lot in common, but he didn’t think so.

  If Mary Ruth was trying to play matchmaker, it wouldn’t work. Ezekiel and Lenore had little or nothing in common. Besides, she’d joined the Amish church soon after turning eighteen. Ezekiel, on the other hand, had no idea if he’d ever join. As far as Ezekiel was concerned, he and Lenore would not make a good match. Despite all that, it might be nice to come for supper this evening. Not only could he get to know Sara, but it would give him an opportunity to ask her some questions about the English world.

  Smiling at Mary Ruth, Ezekiel said, “I’d be happy to join you for supper. What time would ya like me to come?”

  “Six o’clock is when I told Lenore to be here.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Ezekiel turned and went out the door. Wonder if I should bring Sara a gift for her birthday. If I can find something she likes, it might make her more willing to answer my questions and forget what happened outside when she fell.

  Chapter 8

  Newark

  Sara walked into her living room and kicked off her shoes. Today’s class at the local college had been mind-boggling. Business Law was not going to be one of her easier courses. That fact had been obvious on the first day of class, and today had been another confirmation. But it was required for getting her degree in business. Sara had finished another semester in May, but she signed up for Business Law over the summer months. It was a six-week course. Fortunately, the class was small, and it would be easier to concentrate on this one course.

  Sara had to wonder if it would have been better to take an online course so she could work at her own speed instead of the allotted time in the classroom. It was too late to change her mind though, so she would have to buckle down and do her best to get a good grade and complete all her assignments on time.

  There was also the issue of finances. Sara had refused any help from her stepfather when he’d offered to pay the tuition. Her situation would have to be much worse before she’d accept financial aid from him. It was a matter of pride that came from the need to prove she could succeed on her own.

  Sara looked around the cozy room. The beige couch was strewn with colorful throw pillows, and on either side of it sat two wooden end tables. A recliner was positioned at one end of the living room, and the wooden rocker her mother had picked up in an antique store was situated close by. The hardwood floor was covered by a large area rug. A flat-screen TV had been mounted to the wall directly across from the couch, but Sara didn’t spend much time watching television. Between her part-time job and studies, she had little free time and preferred to read a book or make some beaded jewelry.

  When Sara turned eighteen, it was decided that she could move into the other half of the duplex her mother and Dean had bought shortly after they were married. The rent was reasonable, since they only charged her half of what any other tenant would normally pay. Even though her mom was right next door, Sara liked having a sense of independence. This was the first time she’d lived alone, not to mention it got her away from having to watch Mama and Dean spoil her brother, Kenny. Now that her mother was gone, it was hard for Sara to admit, but she appreciated the cheap rent Dean still let her pay. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to take this college course.

  A picture of Mama on the end table to the right of the couch caught Sara’s attention. It had been taken at Christmas two years ago. Mama wore a Santa hat on her head and a silly grin to match. Sara couldn’t remember her mother ever being anything but pleasant. She was a kindhearted person with a positive attitude. Sara enjoyed the humorous side of her too. She remembered how one day when Mama had done her pretty auburn hair in a new style, she’d gone to bed that night with a silk nightcap over her curls. Kenny made fun of the way she looked, but Mama just laughed and said, “I’m sure this must be how all the glamorous movie stars keep their hair looking so perfect all the time. And if it’s good enough for them, it’s just what I need.”

  Chuckling at the memory, Sara flopped onto the couch and jammed the blue-and-white, quilted throw pillow her mother had given her several years ago between her knees. “It’s for your hope chest,” Mama had said. “Someday after you’re married or living on your own, you can put it on your own bed or couch.”

  “Seeing as I’ve never had a serious boyfriend, I doubt I’ll be getting married anytime soon,” Sara muttered. “But at least I’m living on my own and have a nice couch to curl up on.”

  Sara hadn’t been the social type during high school or even after starting college. She was a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of person, always making her schoolwork and part-time jobs her priority.

  The pillow slipped, and she grabbed it, holding the soft cushion against her chest as more memories of her mother flooded her mind. Sara wondered if she would ever adjust to not having Mama around. Tears sprang to her eyes as she untied the scarf she wore and pulled it from around her neck. It was the same one she’d given to her mother, and she wore it often, just to feel closer to Mama. Sometimes Sara tied it through the side loop of her jeans, and occasionally she carried it in her purse. Having the scarf close made it seem as if a part of her mom was always with her.

  At this stage of her grief, Sara needed all the reinforcement she could get, even if only from a blue-and-black scarf. Oh, how she missed the times she and Mama would sit and enjoy a cup of coffee or tea together while they engaged in conversation. It had become a fun routine for Sara to walk next door and catch up with Mama for a while each day. But now, all she had left were the memories.

  Years ago when Mama married Dean, Sara had resented him—especially when he began telling her what to do. He wasn’t her father, after all, and clear into her teen years, Sara’s bitterness toward him grew.

  But who is my father? she asked herself for the umpteenth time. Why did Mama refuse to tell me his name or say anything about him? Not knowing was a hard
pill to swallow.

  Closing her eyes, Sara squeezed the pillow tighter. A bigger grudge seemed to be seeping around every corner of her heart. My mother is dead, and I’ll probably never get to meet my real dad unless my grandparents can provide me with that information.

  She opened her eyes. I don’t understand why they haven’t responded to either of my letters. Maybe they don’t live at that address anymore. For all I know, they could have moved or even died. Sara wished she was free to go to Strasburg immediately and find out for herself. But in addition to needing to be here for class, her car had started sputtering on the way home, insurance was due, and she also needed new tires. So even a short trip out of town was out of the question at the moment. Hopefully by the time she was able to make the trip, things would improve.

  Strasburg

  “Where are you going?” Ezekiel’s twenty-year-old sister, Amy, asked when he shoved on his straw hat and headed for the back door. “Don’t you know supper’s almost ready?”

  He turned to look at her. “I realize that, but I’m going to the Lapps’ house for supper tonight.”

  She squinted her blue eyes at him. “Willis and Mary Ruth Lapp?”

  He nodded. “I took them a big jar of hunnich earlier today, and Mary Ruth invited me to come back for the evening meal.” Ezekiel made no mention of meeting their granddaughter or the fact that it was Sara’s birthday. Amy, curious as she was, might try to make something of it.

  His sister’s petite hands went straight to her hips. “As I’m sure you must know, Mom and Dad went away for supper this evening, leaving me to cook for you, Abe, and Henry.” She gestured to the stove. “And in case your sniffer isn’t working well right now, I’m making your favorite fried chicken. In fact, it’ll be done shortly.”

  Ezekiel felt bad, running out on his sister’s good meal, but he was curious about the Lapps’ newly found granddaughter and looked forward to getting to know her better, so he wasn’t about to stay home.