The Beloved Hope Chest Read online

  “Maybe his driver had to stop somewhere while they were out. Sometimes Teddy has a few stops to make, and Isaiah doesn’t mind.” A shiver of worry slithered up Mattie’s back. After all, just as Isaiah was leaving . . .

  No. He told her not to worry.

  “He could already be back from the bank and walked out to the barn without coming in to say hello. He mentioned having to repair one of the barn doors. One of the hinges broke during the storm last night.”

  “Or maybe he ran into a freind at the bank,” Mamm offered. “You know how Isaiah likes to talk. He meets a freind no matter where he goes.”

  “Ya. Maybe.” But Mattie wasn’t convinced. Something was wrong. Maybe it was her hormones getting the best of her. She was so emotional lately that she burst into tears when her mother told her a neighbor’s dog had been hit by a car. Mattie had only seen the dog once, but the idea that it had been killed had just devastated her.

  “I’m sure he’ll be home soon.” Mamm patted Mattie’s hand as though she knew what Mattie had been thinking. “Let’s check on that apple pie.”

  “All right.” Mattie followed her mother to the oven. She rested her hand on the counter as Mamm opened the oven door and pulled out the pie. Its warm, delicious aroma permeated the kitchen.

  “I think it’s done,” Mamm said. “Doesn’t it smell appeditlich? I just love this reci—”

  A knock on the front door interrupted their conversation.

  “I wonder who that is,” Lizanne said.

  Mattie followed her sister to the front door. Lizanne pulled it open, and crisp February air flooded the warm house as two police officers stood on the front porch.

  “Is either of you Mrs. Petersheim?” the older officer asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Mattie said.

  Both the officers looked concerned. Suddenly light-headed, Mattie felt her mouth go dry.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have some bad news.” The younger officer’s lips formed a thin line. “There was a . . . situation at the bank.”

  “A situation? What do you mean?” Mattie’s stomach roiled, and bile rose in her throat. She was going to be sick.

  “What’s going on?” Mamm appeared and rested her hand on Mattie’s shoulder.

  “Ma’am, I don’t know how to say this.” The first officer glanced at the younger one, whose look fell to the floor of the porch before looking back to Mattie. He took a deep breath.

  “A man walked into the bank where Mr. Petersheim was and threatened a woman. It seems to have been a domestic problem between a man and his estranged wife.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mattie said, her voice shaking. “Where is Isaiah?”

  “The man had a gun, and he pointed it at the woman. Mr. Petersheim tried to intervene.”

  “Where is Isaiah?” Mattie demanded, her words louder and her voice foreign to her own ears. Her whole body trembled.

  “Calm down, Mattie.” Mamm squeezed her shoulder.

  The younger officer cleared his throat. “Mr. Petersheim moved the woman out of the way just as the gun went off. He was shot in the chest at point-blank range.”

  “He passed away at the scene,” the older officer added.

  “What?” Lizanne asked from somewhere behind Mattie.

  “He’s . . . gone?” Mamm’s hand dropped from Mattie’s shoulder.

  Mattie’s world tilted and a gasp escaped her mouth. Her heart felt as though it were lodged in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She reached for the doorframe as the room spun. She gasped again and stepped backward, her leg colliding with a small bench.

  Isaiah! No!

  “Mattie!” Mamm reached for her.

  “Mattie!” Lizanne echoed as she grabbed Mattie’s hand.

  “Ma’am?” The first officer stepped into the foyer and grabbed Mattie’s arm just before her knees buckled and the room went black.

  Mattie folded her hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking as she sat at the front of her father’s largest barn. Four months had passed since Isaiah’s death, and the stale air from the late-June day was nearly unbearable, causing beads of sweat to collect on her temples.

  She wiped away the moisture with one hand and then rested it on her protruding belly. She glanced across to where Leroy Fisher, her best friend since childhood, sat next to his attendants—his younger brother, Joel, and Leroy’s best male friend, Hank Ebersol.

  Leroy wore his Sunday best—a crisp white shirt, black vest, black trousers, and black suspenders—as he and Mattie sat in front of the small congregation that included their families and close friends. They’d sung a hymn, and then the minister launched into a thirty-minute sermon based on Old Testament stories of marriages. Leroy’s deep brown eyes were fixed on the minister as though he were hanging on to his every word.

  Mattie, however, couldn’t focus. It was as though she were stuck in some surreal dream. Today her formal name would change from Martha Jane Petersheim to Martha Jane Fisher. Her eyes stung with bereavement. Not too long ago, she’d hoped and prayed to become Mattie Petersheim, Isaiah’s wife, but now she would lose that connection with Isaiah forever. She wasn’t ready to let go of Isaiah and the warmth and comfort that came with being his wife.

  She smoothed her trembling hand over the skirt of her royal blue dress as her thoughts turned to the day she married Isaiah. She’d worn a purple dress on that cold November day, and she’d been completely elated. She’d been even more ecstatic when she told Isaiah she was pregnant with their first child. Mattie had been looking forward to raising a large family with him.

  But four months ago, her happiness had been ripped to shreds only a few miles from their home. The local news had hailed Isaiah as a hero for saving the woman from her abusive husband. For nearly a month, reporters stopped by her parents’ house and asked questions about Isaiah. Mattie was grateful her father acted as the family spokesman, blocking the reporters from talking to her. Mattie read the stories in the paper, which lauded Isaiah’s sacrifice and honor, but the words left her hollow and cold. Although she was proud of her husband’s bravery, she was left alone with nothing but her memories and Isaiah’s baby growing inside her.

  At least she could be grateful for the Amish belief that they should avoid legal matters, excusing her from making any statements at the shooter’s trial.

  Mattie shifted in her seat and was overwhelmed by the awareness of someone studying her. Glancing to the side, her gaze collided with Leroy’s. His lips turned up in a warm smile and she tried to mirror the gesture, but she knew her attempt probably looked more like a grimace.

  As she stared into his eyes, her mind took her back to the afternoon before Isaiah died. Leroy, Hank Ebersol, and Hank’s wife, Tillie, had come to visit Isaiah and Mattie on that cold Sunday in February. The memory of the aroma of moist earth and wood burning in fireplaces filled her nostrils as if she were still sitting on the small back porch with them. Although the weather was chilly, they had enjoyed gathering outside.

  Mattie hugged her sweater over her chest and laughed as she rocked on a glider. Beside her, Isaiah chuckled along with her as Hank shared a story about one of his bumbling hunting trips with his father.

  “Hank,” Isaiah began through another chuckle, “tell me. How did you manage to fall out of a tree stand?”

  “Well, that squirrel was pretty violent,” Hank explained as he sat in the neighboring glider beside Tillie. “He was irate when he found me in his tree.”

  Leroy threw back his head and laughed as he leaned against the porch railing across from Mattie. She grinned up at him, and he met her gaze, shaking his head.

  “Was that the only time you fell out of a tree?” Isaiah looped his arm around Mattie’s shoulder and she leaned against him, thankful for the shield from the brisk breeze.

  “Hmm.” Hank lifted a dark eyebrow over one of his brown eyes. “I don’t seem to remember falling out of any other trees. At least, I haven’t fallen out of any other tree stands.” He turned
toward Tillie. “I’m not really all that clumsy.”

  Tillie laughed, shaking loose a wisp of her brown hair that fluttered from beneath her prayer covering. “I didn’t marry you for your grace.”

  “You have a selective memory,” Mattie quipped. “I seem to remember Hank falling out of trees fairly often when we were little. Isn’t that right, Leroy?”

  “Oh, ya.” Leroy smirked at Mattie. “Do you remember when we were in school and a few of the boys decided to climb the trees next to the swing set?”

  Mattie sat up straighter. “Ya, I do. You all got in trouble and had to stay after and clean the classroom.”

  Leroy gave her a knowing look. “And you stayed with us and helped.”

  “I didn’t mind. You were mei freinden and would’ve done the same for me. I felt bad you got caught.”

  “We only got caught because someone fell out of the tree and scraped his leg.” Leroy gave Hank a pointed look. “If you hadn’t gotten hurt, we probably would have gotten away with it.”

  Hank shrugged. “I never said I was born to be a tree trimmer.”

  “We sure gave Teacher Marilyn a hard time, didn’t we?” Leroy asked Hank with a chuckle.

  “Do you remember that time you fell in the mud puddle during recess?” A laugh bubbled up from Mattie’s throat.

  “Ya!” Hank slapped his knee. “And you fell in trying to help us up, Mattie.”

  Leroy laughed, throwing his head back again.

  Mattie sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Mei mamm was so furious because she had just made me that purple dress. She asked, ‘If Hank and Leroy jumped off a bridge, would you jump after them?’”

  Leroy wiped his misty eyes. “Did you tell her you probably would?”

  “Ya, I did.” Mattie grinned.

  Isaiah rubbed her shoulder. “I had no idea mei fraa was such a juvenile delinquent.”

  “Only when she was with Hank and me,” Leroy quipped.

  Tillie giggled. “I didn’t have that much fun in school. It’s a shame I didn’t attend with the three of you.”

  “I didn’t either.” Isaiah looked down at Mattie, and the affection shining in his ice-blue eyes sent warmth racing through her veins. The bright afternoon sunlight gave his light-brown hair golden highlights, making him look even more handsome than usual.

  “How’s work at the hardware store going, Isaiah?” Leroy crossed his arms over his wide chest.

  “It’s going all right.” Isaiah blew out a sigh. “I finally got a little raise, but it’s still not enough to buy that farmland I’ve been looking at. I’m certain it will be bought before I can make a bid for it.”

  Mattie could feel the irritation radiating off her husband. She instinctively placed her hand on his, hoping her touch would calm him before he spoke again. “Everything will be fine. We can make do in this haus for a while longer.”

  “I promised you a haus of our own when we were engaged. We’ve been married more than a year, and we’re still living in the same place I was renting when we met.”

  “Shh.” She placed her hand on his cheek, enjoying the feel of his whiskers. “I’m perfectly froh,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

  “You think you have problems,” Leroy said, joking. “Poor Hank and Tillie are stuck living next to me.”

  Mattie smiled at Leroy, silently thanking him for lightening the mood. Leroy seemed to understand her expression, and he winked in response.

  Isaiah looked up at Leroy. “How are the plans going for your harness shop?”

  “We’re going to apply for the loan this week. Hopefully we can start building the shop soon.” Leroy turned toward Hank. “It will be nice to just walk out my back door and be at work.”

  “Ya, that’s the truth.” Hank rubbed Tillie’s arm. “And mei fraa can make our lunch and bring it to us at work, right?”

  Tillie slapped Hank’s arm playfully. “You can come in the haus for lunch. I’ll be busy quilting and cleaning.”

  “What about Leroy?” Hank asked. “He’ll starve if you don’t bring him lunch.”

  Leroy rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m a bachelor doesn’t mean I can’t cook. I can handle my own lunch, but danki.”

  Tillie stood, gathered up Hank’s lunch dish, and stacked it on hers. “I’ll wash these before we leave. It’s getting late.”

  “I can help you.” Mattie stood.

  “No, no.” Tillie held up one hand. “You rest.”

  Isaiah rubbed her back. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. I can help you, Tillie.” Mattie stacked her dish on top of Isaiah’s and then reached for Leroy’s, which was balanced on the porch railing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Leroy asked.

  “I’m fine. Danki for asking, though.”

  She followed Tillie through the back door into the mudroom and then the small kitchen. For the hundredth time, she thought about how much she loved this little house that included a family room, bathroom, and two bedrooms. It wasn’t much, but it was their refuge away from the world.

  Mattie filled one side of her sink with hot, soapy water, then the other side with clear water. “I’ll wash, you dry. Okay?”

  “Ya.” Tillie leaned against the counter and touched a dish towel. “Do you think Leroy will ever get married?”

  Mattie dropped the dishes and utensils into the sink and began to wash a plate. “I’m sure he will someday.”

  “I’ve been with Hank for five years now, and I don’t remember Leroy ever having a girlfriend. Not even when I first met Hank.” Tillie turned toward her, resting her hand on her small hip. “Do you remember him ever dating?”

  Mattie paused, thinking back to their years in the youth group. “I know he was dating one maedel for a few months, but then they broke up. He said they didn’t have much in common.” She dropped the plate in the clean water. “He’s only twenty-five. He could still meet someone and get married.”

  “Ya, that’s true.” Tillie picked up the clean plate and started to dry it. “He’d make a gut husband. He’s such a nice guy.”

  “Ya, he is.”

  The back door opened, and the three men walked in just as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

  “We’d better get on the road soon,” Hank said. “The sky is black in the distance, and it just started thundering. A bad storm is coming.”

  “Let me finish the dishes.” Tillie pointed toward the sink.

  “Don’t be gegisch.” Mattie waved off the comment. “I can handle them.”

  “I’ll help her,” Isaiah said. “You get on the road now. We don’t want you to be caught in the storm.” He started toward the door to follow Hank out through the mudroom. “So how are your folks doing, Hank?”

  Leroy lingered by the doorway leading from the kitchen to the family room. “Tillie, do you want me to help you carry anything?”

  “Ya, please.” Tillie handed him the cake saver she’d used to tote the chocolate cake they shared after lunch.

  “Oh, don’t leave all of that.” Mattie pointed toward the remaining cake on the counter. “Isaiah and I don’t need it.” She glanced up at Leroy. “You’ll finish it, right? Chocolate cake was always your favorite.”

  Leroy rubbed his flat abdomen. “Are you trying to fatten me up? If you do, then I’ll never find a fraa.”

  Mattie and Tillie shared knowing smiles.

  Leroy eyed them with suspicion. “What was that look for?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Tillie cut the remaining cake in half and slipped one half onto a plate she took from one of Mattie’s cupboards. “I’ll leave half for you and Isaiah.”

  “Danki.” Mattie picked up another dish to wash.

  Tillie put the remaining cake into the saver and handed it to Leroy, then hefted her black purse over her shoulder. “I’m sorry to leave all the cleaning on you.”

  Mattie grinned. “I’ll get you next time we visit at your place.”

  “I bet you will.�
� Tillie hugged her. “Have a gut week.”

  “You too.” Mattie looked up at Leroy. “Take care.”

  “See you soon.”

  Mattie followed Leroy and Tillie to the back door and waved as they climbed into Hank’s buggy and headed down the rock driveway toward the road. Isaiah climbed the porch steps and rested his hand on her shoulder. She smiled up at him.

  Someone in the small congregation coughed, and the sudden sound jolted Mattie back to the present. She never imagined that visit would be the last one she and Isaiah would share with their friends. The following morning Isaiah had been shot and killed at the bank. She blinked and rubbed her hand across her hot cheeks in an attempt to refocus on the minister’s sermon. In her peripheral vision, she could see that Leroy turned his attention toward her, but then looked toward the front of the barn once again.

  Mattie had at first resisted when Leroy asked her to marry him a month ago. She loved him as a friend, but she wasn’t in love with him. But after much thought, Mattie decided it made sense to marry Leroy. She wanted her child to have a father and a stable home, and Leroy could provide that. He was also starting a new business and needed a wife to help him run his household. She and Leroy were good friends, and they would make a great team. And, by marrying him, she and her child would no longer be a burden to her family.

  Yet now that Mattie sat in her father’s barn at their wedding, the whole scene was surreal. Reality hit her like a ton of hay bales crashing down from the loft. She wasn’t supposed to be a bride twice within three years. When would she stop feeling so off-kilter? She was going to be a mamm in less than two months, but she didn’t feel ready to take on that role. Were all new mothers this lost and confused? No, of course they weren’t. Most Amish women didn’t face motherhood without their husbands.

  Husbands they loved.

  As if on cue, the baby kicked, and her hands flew to her large belly. A smile played at the corners of her lips.