Free The Mercy by Beverly Lewis Page A

of it. “I’m the one pokin’ my head in on ya,” he said.
    Hen put the sugar bowl on the table right where she always did, so Brandon knew where to reach for it. Then she motioned for Mattie Sue to go upstairs with her, so the men could talk privately on this most beautiful Lord’s Day morning.

O n the way to Mose and Ruthann’s late that morning, Rose and her father passed Deacon Samuel Esh’s farm, prompting Rose to ask about the vacancy their former bishop’s silencing had left in their church district. Her father explained that another bishop—Bishop Simon Peachey, from this side of Bart—had been appointed by Old Ezekiel, the oldest bishop in the county. “He’ll oversee our district for the next six months.”
    Six months . . .
    “What’ll happen then?”
    “Aaron’s ordination will be lifted.”
    “Completely taken away?”
    Dat was quiet for a time. “Certain higher-ups evidently had their say-so.” He glanced her way, a solemn look on his face.
    “And nothing can keep that from happening?”
    “Short of a miracle, no.”
    Rose knew little about the inner workings of the ministerial brethren. But she knew how much stock her father had always put in Aaron Petersheim. “It’s not like he’s sinned or is being punished. Or has he been set up as an example?”
    “I can’t be certain.”
    Rose didn’t want to press further, not as hurtful as all this had been. Besides, Dat was under enough stress with Mamm facing surgery. He wore the concern on his face, even though he continually trusted the Lord for all things pertaining to his family. Mamm was his beloved wife and longtime sweetheart. If things went awry and she was left worse off, Dat would surely blame himself.
    “ En Sinn un en Schand, ” he said, referring to Aaron’s possible ousting.
    “We can still pray,” she said. “For God to rule . . . and overrule before August first.”
    “Ach, ya must never put time limits on the Lord,” Dat admonished her. “Leave things to His will.”
    When they arrived at Mose’s, another family buggy was parked at the side of the house. Rose wasn’t sure who else had come, but Dat seemed to recognize the horse as one of the Millers’.
    “Which Miller?” There were so many in the area.
    “Arie’s father.”
    Hen’s best friend’s father . . .
    Rose thanked him for the ride, saying she’d get a ride home with Mose later. Dat grinned at that. “I’ll see ya later, then.”
    “All right,” she said, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Was she truly ready to meet someone new?
    Making haste to the back door, she found Leah Miller in the kitchen playing with Ruthann’s youngest, eighteen-month-old Sally, while Leah’s mother, Ruth, talked with Ruthann near the cookstove before waving her good-bye. “Hullo,” they all greeted Rose. Looking happier than she had since her beau Christian’s death, Leah carried curly-haired Sally over to Rose.
    “How’ve ya been?” Leah asked Rose, bending to rub noses with little Sally.
    “Just fine . . . and you?”
    “Oh, busy helpin’ Mamma mend and sew.”
    “Awful nice of Mose and Ruthann to invite us, ain’t?” Rose said, smiling as Sally played with Leah’s Kapp strings.
    “Heard there might be another guest comin’,” Leah whispered.
    Rose didn’t make a peep. Just as she’d thought, this was not going to be a normal family gathering.
    “Seems your brother and wife are bent on matchmaking.”
    Do they feel sorry for us? It was the first they’d ever attempted such a thing. Regardless, it seemed unfitting for Mose to invite two single girls and only one fellow!

    Hen was aware of the ebb and flow of conversation downstairs, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. Brandon and Aaron seemed to be getting along agreeably, even laughing occasionally—something quite remarkable.
    “Mommy, why’s Daddy goin’ to New York?” Mattie Sue asked out of the blue. They had been sitting on Hen’s bed while Mattie Sue played with