Softly Blows the Bugle

by Jan Drexler

  Elise slipped past Casper and into the house, but before she disappeared, she gave him a smile. “Denki, Levi. I enjoyed our talk.”

  “I did too.”

  Levi craned his neck to watch her as she continued into the house, but Casper stepped into his line of sight.

  “I hear you’re a fine young man,” Casper said. “A scholar.” He came out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. “Do you have something you want to ask me?”

  Did he have . . . ? Levi swallowed. “Elise and I are just getting to know each other, but . . . I don’t know how to say this.” He looked at Casper. “I think she is the woman I’m going to marry.”

  Casper chuckled. “That wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t the question I had in mind. I thought you’d want to ask if you could spend time with our family some evening.”

  “Ja, for sure.”

  The older man squeezed his shoulder. “There is nothing like spending time together to know if two young people are right for each other.”

  Levi nodded.

  “Why don’t you come over tomorrow night after supper. Spend some time with Elise’s brother Tobias and her mother. Let them get to know you.”

  Levi nodded again.

  Casper opened the door and stepped halfway in. “Good night, Levi.”

  “Good night.” He smiled, but his feet didn’t move.

  “Your house is that way, son.” Casper pointed toward the road.

  “Ja.” Levi’s mind started to work again. “Ja, for sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, after supper.”

  “We’ll see you then.”

  Levi walked down the farm lane, past the harness shop, and down the road toward home. The moon hung in the western sky, just past the last quarter and on its way to full. He went over every detail of his conversation with Elise.

  “I should have told her,” he said aloud, kicking at the step as he climbed the porch steps at home.

  “Told her what?” Mother asked.

  He hadn’t seen her sitting on the porch in the dark. He sat on the chair next to hers and watched the moon.

  “I walked Elise Beachy home.”

  Mother started tapping her toe on the wooden porch floor. “She seems like a nice girl.”

  “I’m going to marry her, Mother.”

  “Perhaps someday, after we have learned to know her parents better. The family has just recently moved into our district, and Casper Zook is only her stepfather. We must find out what her real father was like.”

  “No, Mother, we don’t need to do anything. And I’m not going to marry her someday. I’m going to marry her soon.”

  The toe tapping increased. He had never contradicted Mother before.

  “Please understand. I have been looking for the right girl to marry for a long time. Elise is the one.”

  “You thought Katie Stuckey was the one.”

  “I was young and foolish.”

  “And what are you now?” Mother’s voice had taken on that waspish tone he hated.

  “I am older and wiser now. And if I am making a foolish mistake, then it’s mine to make. You need to trust my judgment.”

  The tapping stopped and Levi looked at her. The moonlight shone on her face as a tear traced its way down her cheek. He grasped her hand.

  “What is wrong?”

  “First Millie goes off and marries that boy. And now you want to leave me too.”

  “Millie lives in our district and has given you twin grandbabies. And I’m not leaving. I’ll live somewhere close by. I don’t know where yet, but I’ll be in our district.”

  Mother’s voice turned wheedling. “You could live here with us. Married children often share a house with their parents.”

  Levi stood. “That is not going to happen.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “I love you, but I am not bringing my wife home to live with you.”

  Mother sighed.

  “I’m going upstairs to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Mother sighed again. “I suppose I could ask Elise if she would like to live here.”

  Levi stopped partway into the house. “No, Mother, you won’t. You’re not going to do anything to interfere in our lives or we will move to . . . to Indiana.” He let the screen door slam closed behind him.

  15

  By Thursday, Elizabeth knew what she had to do.

  Solomon had her marriage certificate, the only proof that she had been legally married to Reuben and was his heir. She had to get it back or she would never be free of Reuben or Solomon.

  She tossed a forkful of soiled straw from Pie’s stall out the door and thrust the fork into the bedding for another load. If only she could throw all men out of her life as easily as mucking out the barn.

  Well, maybe not all men. Warring with the memory of Solomon’s sneering face was the prickling warmth on her skin where Aaron had held her so lightly, so gently.

  She shook her head and threw another forkful of straw out the door.

  Why did she ever consider marrying Solomon? Tears gathered in her eyes as the answer echoed in her mind. To achieve her dream. Solomon’s lies had led her to believe that he held the same dream, but his only goal was his own greedy lust for land. All he wanted was the farm.

  And her dream of a home and family would never come true. She didn’t deserve for it to happen. No Amishman would consider marrying her with the stain of her marriage to Reuben in her past. And without the certificate stating that it was a legal marriage? No one would marry her. Perhaps another Englischer might take the chance, but she would never make the mistake of marrying outside the church again.

  The only thing she could do to keep her dream alive was to find that certificate.

  She tossed another forkful of soiled straw.

  To find that certificate, she would have to go to Solomon’s house.

  Trading the fork for the broom, she swept the last of the chaff and dirt out of the stall and onto the manure pile outside.

  But if she confronted Solomon, she would lose. She would have to appeal to his better nature to hand it over to her, but after listening to him berate her on Sunday evening at the fire, she didn’t think he had a better nature.

  As she scattered fresh straw throughout Pie’s stall, she remembered that Solomon often went to Millersburg on Thursdays. Perhaps he would be going today, also.

  Changing her plans to spend the afternoon helping Margaret with her wedding quilt, she told Katie she would be going to visit Ruby, then hitched Pie to the pony cart. The drive to the burned-out cabin was quick, and she left Pie tied in the shade of the tree by the garden. She hauled a pail of water from the old well and made sure he could reach the grass. Elizabeth stopped at the end of the farm lane and glanced down the road toward Ruby’s place. She would have to remember to stop for a quick visit on the way home.

  Setting out on foot, she watched for any sign that Solomon was at home as she approached the house. His big black horse wasn’t in the pasture. She kept walking until she could see into the open doors of the barn—no buggy.

  Elizabeth stepped off the road and into the woods opposite Solomon’s house and barn. Smoke trickled from the kitchen chimney. Dulcey came out the back door and hung some dish towels on the clothesline. Before she went back into the house, she stood by the clothesline, her arms crossed at her waist, looking toward the south, across the road and Reuben’s woodlot. Would she indulge in those few minutes if Solomon was at home?

  After Dulcey disappeared back into the house, Elizabeth took another look at the house and barn. No sign of Solomon anywhere. She crossed the road, hurried around the side of the house and up the back steps. Dulcey was at the stove, stirring something. Elizabeth rapped on the screen door.

  “Is that you, Miss Elizabeth?” Dulcey moved the pot to the side of the stove and pushed the door open. “You shouldn’t be here. Masta Solomon, he told me specially that you aren’t to be here when he isn’t.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed a silent pr
ayer of thanks. Solomon wasn’t in the house.

  “When do you expect him home?”

  “He usually comes home on Thursday in time for supper, around six o’clock.”

  “Then we have plenty of time. I need to look in his study.”

  Dulcey shook her head. “If he catches you in there, you’d sure to be getting a whipping, and me too.”

  “He won’t be home for several hours. I just need to find a paper that he stole from me. It has to be somewhere in his study.”

  “I don’t want us to get in trouble.” Dulcey turned back to the stove.

  “If you’re not going to help me, at least keep watch for me and let me know if he comes home early.”

  “That room is locked. Masta Solomon don’t let anyone in there without him being there.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration. Of course, Solomon would lock the door. But . . .

  “You know where he keeps the key, don’t you?”

  Dulcey opened the oven door, letting a blast of heat into the already sweltering kitchen. “I know where he keeps the key.” She poured gravy from the pan on the stove over a beef roast, then slid the roast back into the oven. “You got to promise me he won’t find out I let you in there.”

  “He will never learn it from me, and I won’t tell anyone else.” Elizabeth’s heart beat fast and she gulped for air as if she had been running for miles.

  “All right, I trust you.” Dulcey went to the kitchen door and beckoned for Elizabeth to follow her. “And I think Masta Solomon is the kind of man no woman should marry.” She looked at her as she stretched as tall as she could to reach above the doorframe over the study door. “You’ve gotten that idea out of your head, I hope?”

  “I was blinded by my dreams for a little while, but I know better than to marry a man like him.”

  “I need your help getting the key.” Dulcey stopped in front of the study door. “Can you give me a boost?”

  Elizabeth laced her fingers together and Dulcey stepped into her hands to reach the top of the doorframe. When she hopped back down, the key was in her hand.

  Dulcey unlocked the door and peered into the dusky room. Elizabeth walked to the desk, then turned in a circle. A fireplace dominated one wall and a closed and curtained window was opposite the door. In the center of the room was the desk with a large leather-covered chair facing her. Papers were stacked in neat piles on the desk.

  As she started looking through the piles of papers, Dulcey took a step into the room. “Careful you don’t muss up them papers. He’s particular about how they lay on his desk.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Elizabeth straightened the letters she had browsed through and went to another pile on the opposite side of the desk.

  The top letter was from a bank in Charleston, Virginia. Underneath that was a familiar-looking envelope. It was from the same lawyer that had written to her, but the envelope was addressed to Solomon. She lifted the flap. The letter inside looked very similar to the one she had received, written in the fancy script she couldn’t read. She put the letter back in the envelope. Then directly below that was another letter, this one from Solomon and addressed to Harlan Hoben, the lawyer in Vicksburg. She was about to put it aside with the others when she saw her name. Picking up the letter, she sank into the leather chair to read it.

  “You find it?” Dulcey asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “Not yet, but this is a copy of a letter that he sent to the lawyer in Vicksburg. It says that I am no longer considered to be Reuben’s heir, so the land passes on to Reuben’s next of kin, which is his son. It appears that Reuben’s wife in Mississippi has passed away.” Elizabeth read through the letter again. “Solomon has asked to be named the guardian of the child. He said the lawyer should bring the boy here as soon as he can.”

  She leaned back in the chair. What did it all mean? Why would Solomon want the child to come here?

  A terrible idea passed through her mind. “Dulcey, you don’t think he would hurt a child, would he?”

  Dulcey sniffed as if an unpleasant odor had just entered the room. “If that boy has something he wants, and he could get it, ain’t nothing would stop him.”

  “Then I have to find that marriage certificate. If I can prove I’m the owner of the land, then there will be no reason for Solomon to hurt the boy.”

  She riffled through that pile of letters and found nothing. Then she opened the center drawer of the desk, then the left-hand drawers, then the right-hand drawers. No certificate.

  Dulcey looked into the fireplace. “You think he burned it?”

  “I hope not.”

  Then Elizabeth remembered what she and Ruby used to do when they left notes for each other. They would stick the note under one of their dresser drawers. She pulled out the top right drawer and felt underneath. Pulling out the paper she found there, she unfolded it. It was the marriage certificate. Solomon had hidden it where he thought no one would ever find it.

  She held it up for Dulcey to see. “Now Solomon doesn’t have a chance to get that land.”

  “He won’t be happy about that.” Dulcey shook her head.

  Elizabeth scanned the copy of Solomon’s letter again, then noticed the date. “He has probably already mailed this letter, which means the lawyer could be on his way here with Reuben’s son.”

  Dulcey motioned for her to hurry. Elizabeth straightened the piles of papers she had looked through and made sure the desk drawer was closed tightly. Then she followed Dulcey out of the room.

  “Help me put the key away,” Dulcey said.

  Elizabeth laced her fingers together again and Dulcey slipped the key back onto the doorframe.

  Gideon examined the harness Aaron had just delivered.

  “What do you think? If there’s something that isn’t right, I can take it back to the harness shop and fix it right away.”

  His friend grinned. “This is good work. It should last for years with care.”

  Satisfaction in a job well done. Aaron could get used to this feeling. He grinned back at Gideon. “I’m happy you like it. I’ll pass on the word to Casper.”

  Gideon hung the harness on the pegs set for it on the barn wall. The sound of a cart entering the barnyard drew their attention outside. Elizabeth pulled her pony to a stop and climbed out of the cart.

  “Ruby will be glad of your company,” Gideon said as he went to take the pony’s lead rope. “I hope you’ll be able to stay for a while.”

  Her face was flushed, her eyes bright as she glanced at Aaron.

  “I can stay for an hour or so. Could you keep Pie in a shady place? It’s a hot day again.”

  “For sure. I’ll take good care of him.”

  “And can I talk to you before I go in, Gideon? I have something to tell you.”

  Aaron could take a hint. “I’ll be getting back to the shop, then. Let me know if you run across anything you need done on that harness, Gideon, and I’ll make it right.”

  “Don’t go, Aaron.” Elizabeth held out her hand to stop him. “I want you to hear this too.” She took a breath, glancing at each of them. “I found out that Aaron was right to warn me about Solomon.”

  A cold, sinking feeling ran to Aaron’s toes.

  “Solomon Mast?” Gideon asked. “What about him?”

  “Aaron told me that Solomon might not be who he was trying to appear to be. I know he is a liar and can be cruel. I think he might not be Amish, like he claims he is.”

  “This is a serious accusation. Do you know this for a fact? You didn’t hear it from someone else?”

  She pulled a paper out of her waistband. “Solomon told me he had never seen this paper, yet he lied to me. I found it at his house.”

  Gideon took the paper and unfolded it. “It’s your marriage certificate from when you married Reuben.” He folded the paper again and paced to the back of the barn, then returned. “I had heard that you were never legally married to Reuben. Was that just a rumor started by Solomon? W
hy would he do that?”

  “I think I have figured it out.” She glanced at Aaron and he nodded, hoping to reassure her. “Solomon asked me to marry him, although I couldn’t understand why. But I think it’s because he wants Reuben’s farm for himself.”

  “He isn’t happy with the Patterson place?” Gideon asked.

  “He . . . he gets a look in his eye when he talks about land. A greedy look. I don’t think he would stop at anything to get his hands on more land.”

  Gideon tapped the folded certificate against his pursed lips. Aaron’s mind raced to an unsavory possibility.

  “By marrying you, he would be part of the Weaver family. If things happened in the right way, he could eventually own all of Abraham’s land.”

  “But to do that, he would have to swindle his way through legalities,” Gideon said.

  “Or position himself correctly and wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For Datt to pass away,” Elizabeth said, breaking into their speculations. “He could write a new will, forge Datt’s signature, then just wait for the end.”

  “Or make sure the end happened sooner than anyone would expect.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Aaron realized what he had said.

  “You’re talking about murder.” Gideon’s face grew hard.

  Aaron pulled his hat from his head and ran a hand through his hair. “If Solomon is the man I think he is, that could be exactly what he has planned.”

  Gideon turned to Elizabeth. “But now that you’ve found your marriage certificate, he can’t do that, can he?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t see how he could. But there’s something else. Reuben had a son, a little boy who is now an orphan. I saw a copy of a letter Solomon wrote to a lawyer in Mississippi, requesting that he be made the boy’s guardian. If he went to court, he could find a judge who would say that Reuben’s son actually owns the land instead of me, couldn’t he?”

  “Do you think he would steal the land from you, using this child?” Gideon’s eyebrows were raised.

  “I do. I can’t see how he could gain control of Datt’s land after that, but he might have some scheme brewing.”