Second Chances: An Amish Tale of Jane Austen's Persuasion (The Amish Classics Book 3)

by Sarah Price

  The church leaders entered the room, evidence of rain on the brims of their black hats. Still bristling at what she had just learned from Lydia, Anna quietly reassumed her place in line, once again between the stern Kate Schwartzentruber and the love-struck Hannah Musser. The bishop and preachers greeted the women with strong handshakes before they took their places in the middle of the room. Only when they sat did the women begin to file to their places on the far side of the room.

  Hannah seemed antsy, barely able to stop herself from glancing in the direction where the men were gathered, just outside of the side door to the house. “Oh,” she gasped softly, tugging at Anna’s sleeve. “I think I just saw him.”

  In front of Anna, Kate gave a quick glance of disapproval toward Hannah. The room was supposed to be quiet while everyone found their places on the benches.

  Hannah’s comment, however, had reminded Anna that somewhere outside in the crowd of men, all dressed in black with their hats properly positioned upon their heads, stood Willis Eicher. With a tightness forming in her chest, Anna remembered that he had asked her about attending the singing. Surely he meant to escort her home, and that would signal to the others his intentions. She knew that she could not —must not —attend that singing.

  The women had just been seated when the men began to file into the room. Anna stared at the ground, refusing to look up for fear of catching Willis’s eyes upon her. She had a decision to make: to court Willis in order to marry or to risk remaining alone, left only with a fading memory of her dreams of what might have been. If only she could speak to Freman just one more time and with the freedom to apologize for the hurt, both old and new.

  Her thoughts were so deep that, when Hannah nudged her, Anna startled.

  “My word!” Hannah whispered. “I didn’t know Freman had returned.”

  Immediately, Anna lifted her head, her eyes scanning the sea of black hats crowding into the room as the men assumed their positions against the back wall in the section of the room opposite the women. The indiscretion of her desperation to find him was not unnoticed, and she ignored the scowl that Kate cast in her direction. Instead Anna continued blatantly searching for the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Freman Whittmore.

  She caught her breath when she finally saw him, seated on the farthest row with his back against the wall. For a moment, she heard nothing, a sense of peaceful stillness silencing the soft noises surrounding her: people fidgeting as they tried to get comfortable or the whisper of thin pages being turned in the chunky black hymn book. Her mouth opened, just enough that her surprise upon seeing him was visibly noticeable to anyone who might have observed her.

  But Anna did not look elsewhere.

  Her eyes remained upon Freman, stunned to see him at worship, and even more astounded to see him returning the look, his eyes meeting hers with a fierceness and intensity that confounded her. She could barely turn away.

  “Why, I had heard he returned to Indiana!” Hannah risked whispering once again. “I wonder what brings him back . . . ”

  At this last statement, Kate reached over, her arm brushing against Anna’s back, and poked at Hannah’s arm. “Shh!”

  With a slight rolling of her eyes, Hannah returned her attention to the middle of the room where the bishop and deacons sat, waiting for the singing of the first hymn to begin.

  While the rest of the congregation sang, Anna merely moved her lips, no sound coming from her mouth. Indeed, she wondered, why would Freman return? Was it possible that he had not heard of Leah’s engagement to his cousin, Benjamin? She doubted that was likely. Certainly Sara or even George Coblentz would have notified him, if not his aunt in Lancaster. And, numerous times during the hymn singing, she glanced in his direction only to find that he too was often looking in her direction.

  For the first time, the worship service that Anna usually enjoyed so much seemed to drag on for days, not hours.

  Immediately after the final prayer, she lost sight of him. The men hurried to convert the benches into tables, fitting the legs of each handmade bench into a truss so that the members could eat. Meanwhile, the young boys made a game of collecting the Ausbunds, their arms laden with the hymnals as they tried not to run back and forth to the empty crates used to transport them.

  Anna barely had time to search for Freman. Immediately the bishop’s wife put her to work slicing bread in the kitchen. With her back to the eating area, she couldn’t look for him without the risk of embarrassing herself further.

  “Can you believe it?” Hannah whispered into her ear, bumping up against her as she took two plates of bread from the counter. “I wonder that he’s returned so soon!”

  Anna bit her lower lip and acted as if she wasn’t following Hannah’s train of thought.

  “Freman, you goose!” Hannah clarified. “He was sweet on Leah, you know!” Then, as if in afterthought, Hannah gasped and stared at Anna. “Oh, help! You don’t think that . . . ” She paused and looked around, making certain no one could overhear her. “I saw him staring during the service. Mayhaps it wasn’t Leah after all . . . ”

  From Hannah’s expression, Anna read her mind.

  “Oh, help!” Hannah whispered as she took the plates of bread and started to walk away. Hesitating, she looked back at Anna. “You’ll tend to the men, ja? I don’t want Freman thinking . . . I mean, I am engaged to Caleb now . . . ”

  During the fellowship meal, Anna made certain to position herself so that she was responsible for refilling water cups for the men. She lingered behind Freman, the pitcher of water heavy in her hands, as she waited. Her heart beat and she felt weak in the knees. She needed to speak to him, but she was uncertain how to approach him.

  When she finally noticed that he lifted the cup to his lips, she took a step forward and ever so softly touched his shoulder. When he glanced up, she saw a different look upon his face. Gone was the harsh looks from his initial days in Sugarcreek. In its place was one of warmth and—dare she breathe the word—hope.

  “More water?” she said softly, averting her eyes.

  “Danke, Anna.”

  With a trembling hand, she reached for his cup at the same moment that he too stretched out his arm to retrieve it. For a split second, their hands brushed against each other, and when he glanced at her, she blushed.

  Holding the cup, she tilted the pitcher so that it was filled once again and handed it back to him. And then, she hesitated, just long enough to realize that she might not have such an opportunity again. “Mayhaps we shall see you at the singing tonight.” Her words were uttered so softly that she wondered if he had heard her, for he had turned his attention back to the man seated to his left. She could only hope that he had and pray that he did.

  “Anna?” someone called out from the other side of the table. She looked up and saw Willis staring at her. He cleared his throat and glanced down at his own glass, indicating that he too needed a refill. Then, with a smile, he lifted his wide eyes back to meet hers. Several men seated around him noticed and she saw them nudge each other as if they shared a newly found secret. Willis continued to smile at her, not seeming to care if others were paying attention. She wondered if he had overheard her words to Freman; it wasn’t like Willis to call attention to himself, or others, like that. With a heaviness filling her chest, Anna returned to her duties and tried not to cast sideways glances in Freman’s direction while she attended to the demands of the other men.

  With so many people to feed and only so much space at the tables, the g’may always had at least two seatings. At some worship services, when guests came visiting or a special preacher stopped by, they might have even more attendees so they had to serve three meals. The unmarried men and women always ate last while the older men, visitors, or the men with smaller children usually congregated outside, or in the case of inclement weather, in the barn. Freman had eaten with the first seating, so she suspected that he now stood outside, perhaps talking with the other men or eager to harness his horse and leave, for
she saw no sign of him when she sat at the table.

  Almost an hour passed before the second seating finished their meal. Anna barely ate anything, just picking at some pretzels and cup of cheese. Only Lydia noticed Anna’s lack of appetite.

  “Not nourishing your body won’t nourish your soul,” Lydia said softly to Anna as she carried her plate and cup to the waiting wash tub in the kitchen.

  Anna tried to smile but couldn’t. “I’m just feeling . . . ” She couldn’t finish her sentence. She wasn’t certain what she felt.

  Lydia nodded her head and took a deep breath. “I understand, Anna. There’s a lot weighing heavily on your mind.” Gesturing toward the kitchen door, open to let in fresh air for the room had grown warm with so many people crowded inside, Lydia added, “Mayhaps you might walk on home before Mary finds you and has you watching her kinner again.”

  The scowl on Lydia’s face almost made Anna smile, knowing full well that the comment was not out of line. Despite having been away for so long, Mary would undoubtedly seek out her sister so that she could sit and visit without having her sons tugging at her apron. “That’s a gut idea, Lydia,” Anna said quietly. “Danke.”

  Once outside, she glanced at the sky. The heaviest of the rain seemed to have passed by, leaving puddles in the road and a sheen of glistening raindrops on the grass. Anna walked alone, grateful to have the quiet and solitude to sort through her thoughts.

  Between Willis’s unwanted determination and Freman’s unexpected appearance, she felt torn: How could she thwart the one’s attention while trying to attract the other? She knew that to achieve the former, she’d hurt someone’s feelings, while in order to attain the latter, she risked embarrassing herself and possibly others.

  Oh! she thought. What to do!

  No sooner had she paused at the stop sign, looking both ways to ensure that neither car nor buggy approached before crossing, than Anna heard someone calling her name. At first she thought she had heard incorrectly, but when she heard a male voice shout, “Anna!” a second time, she turned around and squinted as she looked down the road from the direction she had just walked. Barely could she make out the tall, dark figure walking toward her from the bishop’s driveway. But as soon as she did, she inhaled sharply: it was Freman, and he had called her name. To her further surprise, he beckoned for her to pause so that he might catch up.

  Standing beside him, she felt small in his shadow. She had forgotten how tall he was, especially as he stood before her, his hands behind his back. He looked so proper in his black suit and hat. Unlike some of the younger men, he chose to wear a black vest under his coat, which added to both the austerity and the attractiveness of his person.

  She could scarcely meet his gaze, and she wondered if he would reproach her for having commented about the singing, a gathering intended for the youth, not someone of his age.

  “You are walking?”

  His question, asking something that required no answer because of its obvious nature, caused her a moment of pause. That was not like Freman.

  “I am,” she admitted and glanced up at his face.

  “But it’s raining.”

  Looking upward, she gave her head just a slight shake. “Nee, I think it has passed. It’s just a drizzle and I wanted the exercise.”

  While the air felt damp, the clouds were not as dark as before the church service had started. After realizing that she was correct, which made him not quite certain how to respond, Freman hesitated and stumbled over his words. “Ja, vell. . . then mayhaps I shall walk with you?” He brought forth his hand and lifted it, just slightly, so that she could see what he held. “I’ve brought an umbrella,” he said. “I’ve come prepared today.”

  The sincerity with which he spoke those words caused Anna to smile as she remembered Mary’s fuss over not having an umbrella on a walk prior to their Lancaster adventure.

  Silently, they fell into step, walking side by side down the road.

  “I have just yesterday returned from Indiana,” he said, opening up the conversation as they rounded a bend near a small farm. He seemed quick to add, “When we returned from Lancaster, there was a letter waiting for me at Sara’s haus. . . your daed’s haus, I reckon . . . I needed to return to sort through a business issue.”

  Uncertain how to respond, she settled with a simple “Oh?” Anna knew it would appear too inquisitive if she questioned him further.

  “Ja. . . and I received a phone call at my shop from Benjamin while I was there,” he added. “He wanted to tell me the news.”

  At this statement, she remained quiet.

  “He inquired after everyone, you in particular.” Freman cleared his throat. “He wanted to know if the news had reached you and if you would be altered by it.”

  “Me?”

  Freman quickly added, “I told him that I was not certain regarding your knowledge, but I was convinced that nothing could alter you, at least not in my eyes.”

  Anne hid a smile at his last statement, remembering how it contradicted his first observation of her when he returned to Sugarcreek, when Mary reported that he had found her greatly altered. She was, however, curious why anyone would have worried about her. For the moment she chose not to think about it, enjoying this light side of Freman, so reminiscent of the man she had known eight years prior.

  “And . . . and what brings you back to Sugarcreek?” she dared to ask.

  He lifted his head and stared straight ahead, a blank expression on his face. “Unfinished business” was his simple reply.

  “Anna!”

  They both turned to look in the direction of her name being called. A buggy drove up alongside them, and to Anna’s mortification, she saw Willis slowing down on the side of the road. He smiled at her, sparing only a quick but polite nod in Freman’s direction. “Your schwester asked me to find you. They’re going to visit with the Troyers, and the boys wanted to return home.”

  Anna’s eyes flickered to the back of the buggy, and to her surprise, little Cris and Walter grinned at her. “Oh . . . ”

  Willis gestured to the seat beside him. “Come now,” he said cheerfully. “Mayhaps we might take them for a walk down that lane behind your haus.”

  Unable to speak, she felt Freman take a step away from her, his hands behind his back and his chin jutting forward. She thought for a moment of arguing, of telling Willis that she was not able to watch the two boys. Immediately she knew that she couldn’t do that. Not to the boys.

  “Enjoy your afternoon,” Freman said as a parting remark, an edge of curtness the only clue that he might be resentful or (dare she hope?) jealous of Willis’s attention. Anna climbed into the buggy beside Willis, prepared to send Freman a look of regret, but he had turned away, headed toward the Troyers’ farm, and did not look back. To her dismay, he had disappeared once again, and along with him any hopes that she had of reconciliation or even reunion.

  Chapter Nineteen

  BY THE TIME that Mary and Cris returned, Anna had fed the two boys an early supper. After cleaning up the few dishes, she sat with them on the sofa, looking through a book about Daniel in the lion’s den, another favorite book that kept them entertained. She took her time reading it, pausing on each page to ask them questions and awaiting their response with the utmost of patience.

  The afternoon hadn’t progressed quickly, despite the energy level of both boys. After sitting for three hours at the Troyers’ house for the worship service, one that they barely understood, for both the hymns and sermons were conducted in High German, they wanted to run outside, even though the damp grass made the hems of their pants wet.

  Willis hadn’t left right away. True to his suggestion, he walked alongside her as little Cris and Walter chased each other down the lane. When they came to a puddle, he was quick to offer his arm so that she could step over it without muddying her Sunday shoes. They walked in silence for a while, Willis occasionally commenting about the changing seasons or laughing at the antics of the boys.

 
; Anna would smile in response, but her silence indicated just how distracted she truly was. To her relief, Willis did not seem bothered in the slightest by her lack of contribution to the discussion. If anything, he appeared to feel encouraged, rather than repelled, by it.

  When they returned to the house, he lingered by the door as if anticipating an invitation to stay longer. Of course, without anyone else home, Anna couldn’t invite him inside, but he seemed surprised when she didn’t even offer him a refreshment.

  “I best go see what the kinner are doing,” she said, her hand on the doorknob as she anxiously waited for him to leave. She needed to be alone, just for a few minutes, to try to understand what Freman’s appearance at worship, coupled with his gesture of walking her home, might mean.

  His disappointment was more than apparent. To his credit, he hid it behind a smile. “Ja, best rest up too,” he said as he headed down the porch steps. “We’ve a big night ahead of us.”

  She wondered at his choice of words, for she certainly would not consider a singing to be a big night. But as soon as the sound of his buggy disappeared in the distance, she leaned against the door and shut her eyes, thankful for just a moment of peace.

  Freman’s eyes, she thought. There was something in his eyes when he had looked at her, his solemn expression masking the true nature of his remark about the umbrella. He had thought ahead and intended to seek out her company, a premeditated action that suggested more than she dared to hope.

  Is it possible, she wondered again, that his unfinished business had something to do with her?

  “Oh, heavens!” Mary exclaimed when she entered the kitchen, pausing to set her basket on the counter. “Where did you have the boys this afternoon? Their shoes are covered in mud, Anna!”

  “They’ll clean up fine.”

  “True enough, I reckon.” To Anna’s surprise, Mary didn’t argue. Instead, she crossed the room and sat in the rocking chair beside the sofa. With a loud sigh, she leaned her head back as she watched the boys beside her sister, pointing at the pictures in the book. Pushing against the floor with her feet, she rocked back and forth, the gentle motion seeming to relax her. “What a long day, ja?” She didn’t wait for Anna to answer. “Hannah disappeared after the meal, I expect with Caleb. Why, I’m surprised at how open they are! In my day, everything was kept so hush-hush until the bishop made the announcement!”