The Atonement Read Free Page B

holding the lantern when one of the cows was birthing. Always at my side, Christian remembered, before Travis Goodwin came along.
    The honey-colored wood planks shone in the light of the gas lamp. Sarah and the twins had scrubbed away the dirt that morning after breakfast, and he reminded himself yet again how blessed they all were. Lucy, as usual, had been off somewhere, probably volunteering. Neither he nor Sarah could complain, since she and the twins pulled their weight with domestic chores, making Sarah’s load less heavy. Once they marry, Sarah will want us to move next door to the Dawdi Haus. He pondered how that might work when his mother was already settled over there. Perhaps they’d have to build another addition onto the main house like his older brother had just last year.
    Christian was glad to sit there and fold his hands at the table he’d made for sweet Sarah decades ago. The most beautiful bride ever. He remembered his first glimpse of her that long-ago November morning as she took her place on the first row of benches, there in her father’s farmhouse, a picture of loveliness and virtue in her newly made royal blue dress and sheer white apron. His bride for life, handpicked by the Lord God above.
    Christian rose from the table, drifting out to the white wraparound porch, where the hickory rockers still sat even this late in the season. Last fall, he’d created a meandering walkway through Sarah’s flower beds with large, flat fieldstones as a surprise for her while she was over in Williamsport visiting a cousin. He’d filled in the gaps with low-growing moss to make it extra nice. Well, Sarah could hardly believe it when she returned, calling it the prettiest garden path she’d ever seen.
    Smiling at the memory, he drew in the night air. The griefmeeting was something he really didn’t want to think about . . . there’d been such a burden of sorrow in that room. The porch seemed to sigh under the weight of his thoughts.
    Christian looked south toward the dark fields, and in the distance, the windows of farmhouses flickered gold. Crickets pulsed in rhythmic chorus, and one of the barn toms wandered over and rubbed up against his leg, meowing loudly. “It’s nearly bedtime, Ol’ Thomas,” he said with a glance down.
    He thought of Dale Wyeth, his assigned partner for the duration of the sessions, and looked forward to seeing him again next Thursday at the group. For certain, the world would be a better place if everyone yearned for a less complicated life.
    â€”——
    Upstairs, Christian reached for the flashlight he and Sarah kept on a low shelf near the bed and made his way to the bureau for his pajamas. After pulling them on, he found Sarah asleep, her waist-length hair spilling over one shoulder. She had taken to putting her graying light brown locks into a thick ponytail at night, and he rather liked it.
    In the dimness, Sarah moved in her sleep. “Just now home?” she murmured.
    â€œ Nee, was downstairs sittin’ a spell.” He moved to her bedside and perched there, reaching to stroke her soft face.
    She raised her head slightly. “Wanna light the lamp?”
    He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Just rest, love . . . we’ll talk in the mornin’.” Switching off the flashlight, he wished he felt up to telling Sarah about the surprising things he’d learned this strange yet enlightening night. Especially that grief can last for years, he thought. All the same, where does my grief fit with the group?
    Christian shook his head. “Maybe nowhere at all . . .” he whispered.
    â€”——
    â€œGonna stay up all hours?” Lucy asked, standing in the doorway of her twin sisters’ shared room. They had been whispering and attempted to squelch their merriment the moment Lucy made her presence known.
    â€œWe might,” Lettie giggled, her wheat-colored