Whoopie Pie Promise - Book 3 (The Whoopie Pie Juggler: An Amish of Lancaster County Saga series) Read online

  Whoopie Pie Promise

  Book 3 of the Whoopie Pie Juggler: Amish of Lancaster County Saga Series

  REBECCA PRICE

  2013 Copyright by Global Grafx Press, LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author or Global Grafx Press, LLC.

  To my mom, who always encouraged me to write even when she had no idea what I was writing about.

  In researching my book, I found out a lot of interesting things about black bears in Pennsylvania. While this is a work of fiction, I did want this to be based in reality.

  Here is an excerpt from the Cook Forest Online located here:

  http://cookforest.com/articles/livingwithblackbears/blackbears3.cfm

  Black bear attacks in the eastern United States are rare. However, they have occurred. If a bear attacks, fight back. Bears have been driven away when people have fought back with rocks, sticks, binoculars and even their bare hands.

  The Pennsylvania Game Commission is responsible for managing, conserving and protecting wildlife. If you have a nuisance bear problem, or have been threatened by a bear, please contact the Pennsylvania Game Commission at the following telephone numbers:

  Harrisburg Headquarters 717-787-4250

  Northwest Region Office 814-432-3189

  Southwest Region Office 724-238-5639

  Northcentral Region Office 570-398-3423

  Southcentral Region Office 814-643-9635

  Northeast Region Office 570-675-5065

  Southeast Region Office 610-926-1966

  Whoopie Pie Promise

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The day starts with a frenzied knock on the door. The sun hasn’t even risen, which is why Simon and I are still cozy on our feather bed. Bam, bam, bam! Simon crawls out from under the quilt and reaches for his robe.

  Mine isn’t far either.

  We make it the door, the knocks still coming at a rapid rate. Simon pulls it open and I feel a wave of surprise pass through me.

  Lilly stands there, already dressed. Or perhaps she’s still wearing her clothes from the day before, by the way they hang wrinkled on her slouching frame. “Lilly,” Simon asks, “what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jessup,” Lilly says, her voice quivering, her body small against the lightening purple of dawn. “He’s been gone all night, I’m so worried.”

  I look around. “Lilly, come in, please.” We ease her in and close the door behind her.

  Lilly walks slowly, as if barely managing to stay on her feet. She says, “He went out yesterday afternoon, to take Wilfred for a ride in the foothills. Simon, he never came back!”

  “He’s been gone all night?” Simon asks her. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  “I...I didn’t want to upset you without need.”

  “Without need? Lilly, he could be injured out there, maybe freezing to death.” Simon turns for the hallway. “I’ll get dressed.”

  “I’m sorry, Simon,” Lilly says weakly, her voice raw from crying and self-recrimination. “I...I’m so sorry...”

  I sit Lilly down on the couch and stroke her arm to reassure and calm her. “It’s not your fault, Lilly,” I say. “Nobody wants to jump to the wrong conclusions, or go running around to all the neighbors prematurely. Where was he going?”

  Lilly sits there, shrugging as she considers, eyes darting at the floor. “I dunno, he didn’t say, just that he was going out for a ride.”

  “Did you wait by the phone shed?” I ask. “He might have gone somewhere and called.”

  “For hours,” she replies, her voice as tired as her expression. “Anyway, where would he go? Where would he call from so late?”

  I search my memory and my imagination and come up with nothing. “I haven’t known Jessup very long, Lilly, but you’ve known him your whole life. He doesn’t have relatives out of town, or....?”

  “I phoned his parents last night, but he hadn’t stopped by. By now they must be worried sick.”

  I can’t think of many options. If he had somewhere to go specifically and it’s something Lilly doesn’t know about, that might mean that it’s not somewhere at all, but rather someone. I hesitate to suggest that to Lilly now, especially in her state.

  And it doesn’t seem likely to me that Jessup would be seeing another woman. After all, they’d just gotten back from their honeymoon, they married almost immediately after the harvest festival. And Simon’s been in love with Lilly his whole life, at least that’s what I gather from everything I’ve heard and certainly from what I’ve seen of them together. He always looks at her with such adoration, such dedication. But she was always in love with Simon.

  This I’m sure of.

  But if either Lilly or Jessup was going to be unfaithful to the other, my bet wouldn’t have been on Jessup as the guilty party.

  All of that is just conjecture however, me circling this conundrum the way I tend to do. I often don’t zero in directly on an answer, but sort of work my way toward it.

  But there’s little enough time for that now. Simon steps out of the hallway, dressed and ready to ride. “I’ll get Beau and a few others and we’ll set out to find him. Where did you say he was going?”

  “Just for a ride,” Lilly responds with a little shake of her head. “In the foothills, he didn’t say where, exactly.”

  Simon gives it some thought. “He loves the trout stream near the old covered bridge, we’ll try that. I’ll get as many men as I can together.” Simon turns to me with a little nod that says, You’ll stay here with her?

  And I nod, responding, Of course.

  I say, “Be careful, Simon.”

  Simon smiles and nods again. “We’ll be back presently.”

  Simon exits and Lilly watches him go. There is a yearning in her eyes, a longing, and I don’t think they’re necessarily inspired by Jessup. But this isn’t the time to reprimand Lilly about that, either. Now is the time to comfort and reassure her, and maybe find out a little bit more about what happened last night.

  But Lilly just starts crying, bending forward, her face in her hands. She begins to quiver as her sobs increase in power, shaking her body with the vigor of her misery. “What am I going to do, Hannah?”

  “You’re going to be patient,” I say, “and be faithful. You know God loves you and God loves Jessup, and you’re both in his protection and embrace.” Citing Genesis 4:15, I say, “And the Lord said unto him, ‘Therefore, whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.’ And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him.”

  Lilly looks up at me, but something in her expression tells me she’s struggling with her faith, that doubt is overcoming her resolve, that fear has crept into her heart.

  And that fear only grows as the hours pass. Once word is out that half-a-dozen men are out looking for Jessup, their women begin to gather at our house. Rebecca comes over, as does our Mamm. Ruth Thompson arrives with some baked oatmeal and cheddar biscuits, which are still warm from the oven and would have been delicious if it weren’t for the tension in the room.

  At one point, Lilly seems to sway on the couch, her hand to her temple. Rebecca asks, “Are you all right, Lilly? Need some fresh air, may
be?”

  Lilly shakes her head, wincing. “Headache, I’ll be fine.”

  “Sure you’re not hungry, hon?” Mamm asks her, but Lilly just shakes her head with a polite smile.

  I ease Lilly up off the couch and slowly across the room. “Why don’t you go into my room, take a little nap. We’ll let you know when we hear anything.”

  I get Lilly into my bedroom and close the door as she falls into the bed.

  I rejoin the others in the living room, where snacks and gossip and rumor are being devoured by my guests.

  “Where do you think he is?” Rebecca asks Ruth.

  Ruth can only shrug and shake her head. “If I’d married that little brat,” she says, eying the hallway, “I’d have run off too.”

  Gramm stares at Ruth, her old expression unchanging, yet revealing nothing of Gramm’s hidden impulses. She just keeps staring.

  “She can be a...a challenge,” Rebecca says, taking a sip of homemade fruit tea, its cozy scent filling the room. “But so can a lot of people. I think Jessup knows Lilly well enough, and loves her well enough, to overlook her little quirks.”

  I say, “Then something else made him stay in those woods overnight, and that’s not good news. He could be lost out there.”

  Gramm shakes her head. “That boy knows the hills,” she pushes out in her thick German accent. “Not lost!”

  I run through the further possibilities. “He could have fallen off his horse, broken his leg, who knows?”

  “Did they have a fight?” Ruth asks me.

  “I dunno,” I respond, “she didn’t say. Why?”

  Ruth sits in the dreading silence of her presumption. “Maybe he decided just to leave...and not come back. Maybe that’s why she waited until the morning to mention it to anyone, because she knows he’s not hurt, but rather...that he’s left her.”

  “He loves her,” Rebecca says.

  “And he always has,” I add. “Why would he suddenly just leave her after wanting her his whole life and then finally getting her?”

  “Because it’s easy to love somebody from afar,” Ruth says. “But when you engage with them in the real thing, real love, that’s when it gets tricky. That’s when a person’s real self comes out. And it can change a person too. A reliable person can become needy, a stable friend can be an erratic and volatile partner, especially when they’re as bossy and manipulative as that young woman.”

  “Ruth,” my Mamm says, “she’s in the next room!”

  “All the more reason to say this now, while I can.” Ruth stands up and crosses toward the adjoining dining room to the spread of biscuits and casseroles. “And we all know that Jessup isn’t really the love of Lilly’s life.” She turns to me with a little smile. “No offense, dear. All of Lancaster can see that you and Simon are meant to be together. But we all spent the last twenty years or so watching Lilly fawn over him, talk about how they were going to get married. It’s no secret to any of us the way she feels, why should it be a secret to Jessup? He was closer to those two than just about anyone else.”

  “The Three Musketeers,” I say.

  “Yeah, and that kind of childhood bond, that kind of love, it doesn’t just go away.”

  “But then it wouldn’t have gone away for Jessup,” Rebecca says, “anymore than it would have for Lilly.”

  Ruth shakes her head. “You’re young, Rebecca, there’s still a lot you don’t know about the human heart. When a dream dies, and you know it, you feel it die inside you, like your heart ripping in two; everything else just falls apart. It can happen in an instant, usually does. And, to me, it’s not a question of whether Jessup’s dream was going to crash up against the reality of Lilly’s love for Simon, that’s either happened now or will happen eventually. It’s not a matter of if, but when.”

  The room goes silent and we all look over to see Lilly standing by the hallway, looking at us with new horror in her already tired eyes, new wrinkles getting deeper. The slow realization of Ruth’s truths overtake her. Combined with the increasing sense of shame, and of embarrassment, Lilly nears a breakdown even greater than the one she experienced at my wedding when we all caught her trying to taint the food. She’d felt terrible then, no doubt hoping a hole might just open up and swallow her.

  Now she can only seem to hope that the hole which opens up might pull her straight down to hell. A desperate gasp spills out of Lilly’s mouth as she runs across the room and out the front door.

  “Lilly,” I say, but to no effect as she runs out of the house, leaving the door open behind her.

  I follow. I feel badly about what she overheard, and I don’t even know necessarily that any of it applies to her. He might just be lost, I remind myself. Tell her he might just be lost!

  “Lilly, stop!” She stomps a few yards from the house, fists clenched. “Lilly, please!”

  Lilly turns, her face bright red, tear-streaked and burning with a flush of hot blood. I walk up to her as she waits, as if frozen in the headlights of a truth she can no longer outrun and can’t possibly evade.

  “It’s true,” she says, her voice an airy rasp. “Everything that terrible old witch said in there is true! I always loved Simon growing up. I’m sorry, I guess you knew that, but...and I know you and Simon are in love and you’re happy and everything and...I don’t know if you’ll believe this when I say it, but I’m happy for you. If Simon’s happy, then I’m happy.”

  “I know, Lilly,” I say, not sure if I believe it but knowing that it doesn’t really matter. Simon is my husband and she’ll never be able to take him away from me.

  I know that.

  Lilly goes on, “And I was glad Jessup was there for me when I needed him, when I felt so alone. I always loved Jessup too, like a brother, y’know?” Lilly looks deep into my eyes, pain and sorrow and sincerity spilling out of her tear ducts. “Then, I turned around and he wasn’t a brother anymore, he was...like a husband. And I’m lucky to have him and I want him, Hannah, I want him back!”

  I wrap my arms around her shoulders, giving her what I hope is a comforting little squeeze, the midday sun obscured by the early November haze. “What did you say to him to make him run off?”

  “I dunno,” she says, her voice cracking, “nothing...everything...it just came out that I used to have a thing for Simon, and, I dunno, Jessup just got really upset. He claimed I didn’t love him and that he didn’t want to be with somebody who was just settling for him. But I couldn’t make him understand...I tried, but I couldn’t...I just couldn’t...”

  I hold her close. Lilly needs a friend now, I realize, and until Jessup gets back, I am that friend.

  I say, “Okay, well, you had a fight. That happens, Lilly. But it’s just a time of trial, a passing thing. “And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, 'Peace, be still.' And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”

  Lilly sniffled in her tears. “Mark 4:39.”

  “Yes,” I respond, not needing to say more.

  “You really think so? You think he’ll be back?”

  “Of course I do,” I say, my voice cool and soothing. “You don’t think he would just run off and start a new life somewhere else, with just the horse he’s riding and the clothes on his back?”

  On the other hand, I tell myself, he may just send for his things, or send word to his family of where to contact him in any one of several Amish-friendly cities across North America. Probably best not to go on about it now.

  Lilly’s expression softens as she squints into the sunlight. I follow her line of sight to Simon, who rides up on his paint, Jackson. The horse’s head is low to the ground as it walks, giving the animal a vaguely defeated look.

  Simon’s posture is also slightly slumped, his face shadowed by the brim of his hat.

  “Where is he?” Lilly asks. “Did you find him? Tell me you found him, Simon!”

  Simon climbs off his horse. “We found him. He’s...back with his parents, they’re...seeing to him.”

  Lilly gasps,
bending forward a bit, holding her hand out and resting it against Simon’s chest to support herself. “Oh, thank God, thank God, thank God!”

  But one look into Simon’s eyes, now revealed as he gazes at me, tells a darker story than the one Lilly is imagining.

  Simon asks me, “The other women are in the house?” I nod.

  “They came to comfort me,” Lilly says with a relieved smile. She turns to me. “Thank you so much, Hannah, for everything. You truly are a dear, dear friend.”

  I try to smile, but I just can’t manage it.

  Simon puts one hand on each of Lilly’s shoulders and looks at her with a soft but stoic calm. “Lilly, Jessup was attacked in the woods, by a bear, we think.” Lilly’s relief dissolves quickly, new panic overtaking her and swelling within, expanding, impossible to withhold.

  “A bear? But...“ Lilly looks at Simon, brows arched, mouth small, lips quivering. “...But he’s okay.”

  Simon just shakes his head, eyelids dipping slowly closed. “I’m sorry, Lilly.”

  Lilly’s words come faster, volume rising to match her desperation. “You said he was with his parents.”

  “We felt we had to tell them first, and to bring them the...the...”

  Lilly’s expression goes completely white, her head shaking. “No,” she says in a little, muttered voice which begins to soar as her world crumbles. “No no no no no no no no...”

  Simon holds her steady, trying to hug her for comfort. But the more he does, the more she begins to flail in his loving grip. As her voice gets louder, her denials become pleas, which become shrieks of impassioned protests. She starts slapping and smacking at Simon, harmlessly, even as her little fists ball up and then fall upon his chest in frustrated thrashing. She’s crying now, weeping helplessly as her body finally gives up struggling and her mind relinquishes all hope.

  Lilly crumbles in Simon’s arms, tears and wailing pouring out of her, body limp and ready to fall to the ground but for Simon still holding her up. Agony overwhelms her, and Lilly wilts to a sagging, sobbing heap in my husband’s arms.