Free Brush of Angel's Wings by Ruth Reid Page B

closer. He longed to administer compassion and dry Jordan’s watery eyes, but some tears will cleanse the soul for those who recognize their spirit’s cry. When Jordan closed his eyes, Nathaniel pumped his wings, creating a gentle wind that lifted the pages of the book lying next to him.
    Tangus crept along the room’s crown molding. A filmy brume dispersed from his mouth. “Nathaniel, you keep revealing your perceived truth to someone who refuses to heed your call.” Tangus edged closer and flitted above Jordan. “He listens to me. Don’t you, Jordan?”
    Jordan shot off the chair and twisted around, sure someone had spoken. No one was there, but the room didn’t feel empty. The planked floor creaked as he walked over to the wooden-sash window. Sprigs of green buds on the maple tree filled the branches with life. A strange heaviness caused him to turn. Yet no one had entered the room. His gaze locked on the lamp’s flickering orange flame and how its shadows licked the wall.
    Jordan returned to the side table and picked up the Bible. Scanning the open page, his eyes caught on the verse, “Cast all your cares . . .” He stopped reading when he heard footsteps tapping down the wooden stairs. He had just set the Bible back on the table when Rachel appeared. His breath unexpectedly caught in his chest, causing him to cough. With her prayer kapp set back from her forehead, her wheat-colored hair looked vibrant against her plum-colored dress, and she looked even more beautiful. His hands moistened and he wiped them down his pants to dry them.
    Rachel darted into the kitchen. A moment later she reappeared holding a covered dish, her mother at her side.
    â€œLet me carry that for you,” he said and reached for the food container. Something inside the warm dish smelled good. He hoped it would be tasty too.
    The door opened and Micah stepped inside and wiped his feet on the rug. “I asked Jordan to bring you home early.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Jordan reinforced his promise with a stiff nod.
    â€œGut ,” Rachel said sharply.
    Miriam placed her arm around her daughter’s slender waist. “Be gracious to your host.”
    â€œ Jah , I’ll be sure to.” Rachel removed her cape from the wall peg and put on her bonnet, tying the strings in a bow under her chin.
    Miriam escorted them out to the porch. “Enjoy the fellowship.”
    â€œYes, Mamm .” Rachel glanced at Jordan, her eyes mirroring his reservations.
    He waited until Rachel climbed into the buggy, then handed her the dish. This night might prove more challenging than he expected.

    If it wasn’t the first time Naomi was hosting, Rachel would have continued her avoidance of all singings. But how could she disappoint her closest friend? So with a mixture of excitement for Naomi and dread for herself, she settled into Jordan’s buggy.
    Rachel touched her neck. She hoped her dry throat, partly from the dread, and somewhat raw from the cool breeze, wouldn’t affect her singing. With Jordan attending, she didn’t want to sound froggy.
    Jordan climbed on the bench beside her and released the buggy brake. Once they were on the road, he tapped the container she held. “What’s in the dish?”
    â€œBabrag boi.”
    His brows crinkled.
    â€œRhubarb crisp.”
    â€œWith sugar?”
    She almost smiled but managed to hold it in check. “I didn’t make it. Mei mamm did.”
    â€œThen it’s safe to eat, I suppose.” He looked at her, his eyes full of laughter.
    For some reason this time she didn’t mind his teasing. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve learned my cooking secrets from Mamm .”
    Jordan burst out laughing. Rachel liked the sound of it. It made her insides swell with a different kind of joy than she was used to.
    After that, they grew silent. Rachel had so many things to ask him, most of which would be prying. It was