Free The Revealing by Suzanne Woods Fisher

Galen had more demand for trained horses than he could fulfill. Last year, as Jimmy apprenticed for Galen, he had developed skills that proved his mettle. It wasn’t easy to change Galen King’s mind about anything or anybody, but he had grown impressed enough with Jimmy’s way with horses that he called him a partner.
    David Stoltzfus had just said in Sunday’s sermon that God didn’t give a desire without planning to fulfill it. Would the Lord give her the desire to marry and have a family if he didn’t intend on fulfilling it? Would the Lord give Jimmy a desire to raise horses if he didn’t plan to fulfill that?
    There were many things about being Amish that frustrated Bethany to no end. What was good for the group was considered good for the individual . . . even if it wasn’t. But then, to be fair, there were also many things about being Amish that made life worthwhile.
    Have a little faith, Jimmy told her. Where was she putting her faith, anyhow? It had grown leaps and bounds in the last year since she had moved back to Eagle Hill. In many ways, she was a different person than she was a year or two ago.
    But her main question wouldn’t be silenced, and once again she was asking God: Would you give us desires if you didn’t plan to fulfill them? She didn’t receive an answer, but she didn’t feel wrong about asking either. The silence that surrounded her was gentle, not accusing. Perhaps that wasenough of an answer. To accept her desires, and Jimmy’s, as a mystery.
    For now, anyway.

    The sun was cresting the hills that framed the back of the farmhouse as Brooke woke. The smoky scent of crisping bacon floated down from the kitchen and in through the open window of the guest flat. Brooke’s stomach started to rumble. She threw on a bathrobe when a knock came on the door and there stood Mim, holding a tray that was covered with a red-checkered napkin.
    Brooke was relieved whenever she opened the door and found it was someone else besides Vera Schrock, who always looked as if something had displeased her and she was about to issue a complaint. Vera had a tight, drawn look, a near permanent frown, solid and glum-looking. Brooke had expected a similar countenance from the innkeeper, Rose Schrock, and was pleasantly surprised to find Rose to be lovely, warm, and kind, dressed in soft, cheerful colors: turquoise or pink. Vera dressed in drab brown or olive green. No spark, no life. Brooke didn’t know how the family abided Vera.
    Mim’s gaze was fixed on the sky. “The eagles are out.” She lifted her chin toward an eagle, soaring above the creek. “They have an aerie in a tree on our property.”
    Brooke opened the door wide to let Mim cross the threshold. “What’s an aerie?”
    “It’s an eagle’s nest. It’s huge. Made of sticks and lined with grass and moss. The eagles have been here two years now. Last year, they had one eglet but it died. We’re hoping they’ll have better luck this year.” Mim set the tray on thetable in the small living area. “That’s why there’s yellow tape around that far section of the farm. The Game Commissioner doesn’t want bird-watchers bothering the eagles.”
    “Do they?”
    “Yup. Bird-watchers are pretty intense around here. As soon as some eggs are spotted in the aerie, they’ll be camped out across the street with their telescopes, day and night.”
    Brooke smiled. That was the longest speech she had heard come out of Mim Schrock. It pleased her. She was hoping someone, anyone, on this farm would slow down and talk to her a little. She was always noticing them darting around the farm, but rarely still. Especially not those two young boys with the black felt hats—they were in constant motion. Like a blur.
    She lifted the large fabric napkin and found a bowl of baked oatmeal, toast with raspberry jam, four strips of thick-sliced bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, and a thermos of coffee. “Why, thank you. I thought I smelled bacon frying. It’s