LITMIR.BIZ

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ran riot over his head. Windblown clusters of curls poked out from under the dirty straw work hat that he wore. Dried mud caked his boots up to his dark trouser cuffs.

      Solomon stopped in his tracks, taking a long, hard look at Leviticus. His blue eyes narrowed as he realized who stood by his father’s side.

      “What’s he doing here? Did you send for him?”

      Albert accepted the glass of tap water from his younger son’s hand and swallowed his pill. “Danki.” His eyes cut to his oldest son. “Now, how could I have sent for Leviticus? I didn’t know where he was any more than you did. Gott directed your bruder’s steps home.”

      Leviticus watched the exchange. Albert seemed calm and steady, but Solomon’s face reddened, ready to explode with fury.

      Leviticus stepped forward.

      Solomon turned toward him, ignored Leviticus’s outstretched hand. His finger jabbed toward the back door. “Get out! You’re not welkom here.”

      Albert swayed to his feet. His face flushed a ruby red. “I’m still alive and owner of this grove, Solomon Hilty. Leviticus is my youngest bu. He can stay as long as he chooses, and you have nee say in if he comes or goes.”

      Solomon banged his fist down hard on the wooden kitchen table, rattling their coffee mugs. “Where was your precious soh when the orange trees dropped fruit from fungus? Remember how we worked twelve-hour days to save that crop?”

      Solomon’s loudly spoken words echoed through the house, a verbal slap across Leviticus’s face. He’d earned that slap...and more.

      “Where was Leviticus when you almost died in the grove?” He pointed to his bruder. “Did he come and sit by your hospital bed for days? Nee. But I was there, Daed.” Solomon’s finger poked his own chest. His tone dropped, tears glistening in his eyes. “I was there the whole time.”

      “You were there and that was as it should be. But your bruder is home now. You should be happy Leviticus has come to make things right with Gott. Hasn’t that always been our prayer?”

      Looks were exchanged between brothers. Leviticus’s frayed nerves shouted at him to run, leave all the drama behind and just go. Solomon didn’t understand why he’d left, but now was not the time for explaining. He’d done enough damage to this family.

      Solomon has a right to want me gone. If the roles were reversed, I’d be saying the same to him.

      Two steps brought Solomon to his father’s side. “Is that what he told you? That he’s come home to give Gott and the Amish way of life a chance? Do his long hair, his Englisch clothes look like a mann ready to turn over a new leaf, Daed? Do they?”

      “This will end now!” Verity stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and spitting fire. “Your daed has no need of this foolishness. I will not have him made upset.”

      Solomon flashed a look at Leviticus that spoke volumes. He slammed his work hat back on his head. “This is not over, little bruder. Not by a long shot. The bishop and I will talk and then you’ll be gone.” He slammed out the door, the glass pane trembling in his wake.

      Barefoot, Clara entered the room from the hall and flashed past Leviticus, her advanced pregnancy evident by the round bulge pushing at the waistline of her plain blue dress. Tears ran down her face as she rushed out the back door behind Solomon.

      Leviticus took a sip of his water, swallowed hard and poured the rest of it down the sink. He’d expected Solomon to be relentless with anger and he hadn’t been far off the mark. Solomon’s forgiveness might come, but not today. Maybe not ever.

      Her face flushed, Verity patted Albert on the arm. “You’ll be all right while I gather the eggs?”

      “Ya, sure. Leviticus is here now. He can fetch and carry for me till you’re back in.”

      She nodded but paused a step away and turned back. “You took your pill?”

      “Ya. Just like you told me. One at lunch and the other at dinner.”

      “Gut.” Verity grabbed the egg basket and then hurried out of the room, but not before sending Leviticus a warning glance over her shoulder that told him she wouldn’t put up with any more foolishness from him around his father.

      Leviticus raked his fingers through his tangled hair and let his arm drop to his side. Verity wasn’t comfortable with him around, either. What had he expected? A happy homecoming? Like Solomon, she may never forgive him.

      Albert motioned for him to sit. “Your bruder’s angry now, but he’ll calm down. It may take time, but he’ll see the error of his ways and repent. I taught you both how to forgive, as Gott forgives us.” He smiled at his youngest soh, his eyes lighting up.

      “Your bruder missed you. He’s just bone tired and frustrated. The hurricane—it did terrible damage to the grove.” Albert rubbed at the base of his neck. “We’re not sure the grove can be saved. A big city buyer came round today, offering fifty cents on the dollar for the ground, but Solomon ran him off before I could.” The old man thrust his fist in the air. “I’ll die before I see this grove given away.” He laid his hand on his son’s arm. “Now that you are home, there is hope for the future of Hilty Groves.”

      “Don’t put your faith in me, Daed. Trust in Gott. I’ll disappoint you every time.” Humiliation ripped at his gut. He hadn’t earned his father’s trust yet, but he would, given time. He didn’t know if he had what it took to be the kind of soh his daed needed him to be, but he intended to try. Can I become a Plain man and please Gott?

      * * *

      Somewhere in the dark room, a baby was crying as if its heart were broken.

      Verity woke disoriented, her jumbled thoughts convincing her it was Faith’s lusty wails. She hurried out of bed, hoping she could calm the boppli before her cries woke Mark. He rose early each morning, before the sun’s first rays. The poor mann needs his rest.

      She frantically searched for her robe at the foot of the bed, then went on a hunt for her missing slipper. Kneeling, she found it just under the bed. Verity rushed to scoop the baby up, but the cot wasn’t where it should be by the back window. She turned, looking about in the darkness. The whole room seemed off-kilter, everything out of place. Why wasn’t the night-light glowing? She always left it on, so she could check the baby without disturbing Mark. Had the bulb burned out?

      She located a lamp on the dresser and switched it on. Its golden glow flooded the room.

      She glanced around. One side of the bed was rumpled. The other empty.

      Reality returned like the jab of a knife. She let out a loud sigh, all the while her heart pounding in her throat. Mark was with the Lord, his broken body deep under the soggy ground, along with their tiny soh, who’d been born much too early due to her shock and grief.

      The crying child was sweet Naomi, Leviticus’s child.

      Her house shoes made scuffing noises as she hurried across the hardwood floor and lifted the squirming child into her arms. Naomi was furious, her face red and splotched from crying. Her feet kicked the air in outrage. Verity cooed and softly talked to her, trying her best to calm the irate kind.

      She and Leviticus could have had their own dochder if he hadn’t walked away. But he had. Faith’s birth had filled her with a mother’s love, but what about Naomi? The child needed the care and love of a mamm. But could she care for Naomi and not feel resentment? A look into the baby’s shimmering dark eyes told Verity all she needed to know. She would love Leviticus’s child and show no grudge.

      She hugged the child closer, even though Naomi protested and pushed away. All kinner needed to feel wanted. Especially this bundle, whose mamm thought more of

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