Pennsylvania Patchwork by Kate Lloyd Page B

ya warmed up and comfy,” he said. “If you want the kerosene heater going too, let me know.”
    â€œ Ich bedank mich , Nathaniel. My daughter’s gettin’ herself a fine husband.”
    â€œ Gem gschehne— you’re welcome.” He looked uncomfortable with the flattery, but Esther reminded herself he’d been taught since childhood to be humble.
    Minutes later, standing alone with Nathaniel in the sitting room, Esther heard Holly, Armin, and Larry chatting in the kitchen. As Esther moved to the window she reiterated the hectic afternoon. She thanked the Lord Mamm’s injuries were minimal and that the catastrophe was behind them.
    Evening was descending earlier each day as autumn dwindled. The lowering sun cast a coral-colored glow across the oak trees and fields on the other side of the road, and on the resplendent barns and silos in the distance. Serenity seemed to fill the valley as if a giant locomotive had just rolled by, leaving in its wake quiet harmony. Yet, she couldn’t shake a feeling of unease.
    â€œI need to tell ya something, Esther,” Nathaniel said, and took her hand—his skin was clammy. She thought he was going to pull her toward him and steal a kiss, which she very much desired. Instead, he said, “I’ve got bad news.”
    He released her hand.
    â€œ Was is letz ?—What’s wrong?” Her vocal cords tightened around her words; her throat felt parched as if she were in the Sahara Desert. “You know you can tell me anything.”
    â€œThere’s en Gebrummel —a rumor—going around in Ohio.”
    â€œI don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Esther tilted her head, trying to evoke a smile, but his expression remained stony, his lips pressed together.
    â€œAccording to my cousin, people claim my former wife is still alive,” he said. “ Sie is schunn lang ab im Kopp —she’s been crazy for a long time—living in a shack by herself like a hermit.”
    â€œBut it’s a falsehood, isn’t it? Surely after so many years she would have been found.”
    â€œI wish I could tell you with certainty. My daughters have probably been praying for years she’d come back …” He stared at the floor. “Bishop Troyer says I should go check.”
    â€œYah, I guess you’d have to make sure, once and for all.”
    His eyes glazed over with a veneer of moisture. “I can’t believe I have to relive this nightmare, just when I’ve met you again, Esther.” He finally glanced her way; his pupils were dilated. “I never loved her the way I love you.”
    Hearing his affirmation of devotion made Esther feel twenty years younger, but she said, “You shouldn’t speak like that, Nathaniel. Of course you loved her.” She tried to banish the image of Nathaniel and his wife becoming united at a Sunday service, surrounded by a couple hundred relatives, neighbors, and friends, then the two sitting at the corner table—the Eck—as they celebrated afterward over a bounteous meal at the bride’s parents’ home. They had two children together when she’d disappeared and had surely wanted more.
    Nathaniel had never mentioned his former wife’s parents. Esther wondered if they were still alive and served as grandparents to his daughters’ children, whom Esther had only met briefly.
    This myriad of thoughts tightened her chest; her breathing was so shallow she thought she might faint. Esther had asked God to show her his will for her life. She might have to accept that the Lord wished her to remain single, an atonement for her sins. She recalled one winter, as a child, a girl had crashed through the frozen pond and was imprisoned beneath the ice. That’s how Esther felt at this moment, as if she were drowning.
    â€œWhen will you leave?” She lay a hand on his shoulder, but he back-stepped as if she carried