The Bishop's Daughter

by Patricia Johns

  That concession wouldn’t have been easy on his father, and Elijah could see his point. They did need the money. Elijah swallowed a bite of bread before answering.

  “We’ll figure it out, Daet. One of the things the Englishers say is that nothing stays the same. Even the bishop’s influence. You can always count on change.”

  “They can also count on hellfire,” Daet retorted, and Elijah shook his head. Arguing religion with his father was about as effective as arguing the bishop’s undue influence. His father saw things the way he saw them, and he could not be swayed.

  “What I’m trying to say is—”

  “Don’t tell me what the Englishers think.” His father’s expression was tight, and he pushed back from the table with a noisy scrape.

  His parents were glad he was back, but there was still the scent of bitterness surrounding anything to do with the Englisher world. His daet wanted him to sink back into place here as if he’d never left, but Elijah was no teenager anymore, and while there were aspects of the Amish life he missed on a bone-deep level, he wasn’t about to be smoothed over and put into his place like his father had been.

  “Eat,” his mother murmured. “Do you want some milk?”

  Elijah nodded. “Thanks, yah.”

  She rose to her feet again and headed for the gas-fueled refrigerator.

  “Have you been speaking to Absolom?” his father asked after a moment.

  Elijah shook his head. “No.”

  “He wrote you a letter.” Mamm’s voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension and Elijah stopped chewing, tucking the food into his cheek.

  “What?”

  “Eat, dear.” She poured a glass of frothy milk and slid it across the table toward him. He took a gulp of milk to wash down the rest of the food, but it felt like it stuck halfway down, a painful lump in his chest.

  “He wrote to me? Where is the letter?”

  Mamm pulled it out of her apron pocket and put the envelope face down on the table, then turned away.

  Elijah picked up the envelope. It was still sealed, and his name and address had been printed in those childish block letters Absolom always used when he was trying to write neatly. Elijah tore open the envelope and scanned the contents of the letter. It was short and to the point, his friend’s voice coming through the words.

  Dear Elijah,

  It isn’t the same around here without you, and Sharon says to tell you that you’re missing out on the best season yet of Mystery Hunters—that show you were watching with her on TV. . . .

  Already, the flickering commercials and the heavy-handed stories from the television felt like a thousand miles away. They’d had a numbing effect on him, though, and let him forget his feelings for a little while. It was easier to center his emotions around fiction than it was to face reality most times. In that respect, he couldn’t really judge the Englishers. He was no better. And sitting with Absolom’s girlfriend on the sofa, he used to think about how he’d explain all of this to Sadie . . .

  “What does it say?” Mamm asked impatiently.

  Elijah scanned the last of the letter.

  “Absolom is a daet now.” Elijah scrubbed his hand through his hair. “His girlfriend had her baby.”

  “Oh . . .” His mother didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, and she didn’t say anything more.

  “Girlfriend,” his father muttered. “Those Englishers. Not even a wife, and he’s having children with her. Backwards. All of it.”

  Elijah scanned the words again from beginning to end. A father . . . his friend. It seemed so impossible, even though he’d seen Sharon large with child. Nothing would be the same for Absolom ever again.

  “Was it a boy or a girl?” his mother asked at last.

  “A girl.” And as the words came out, he heard the tremble in his own voice. Absolom now had a daughter. Elijah didn’t know what that would feel like, but he could imagine the swell of paternal protectiveness that Absolom would be feeling as his emotions grew into this new responsibility.

  “He also wants me to hurry back,” Elijah said. “He’s eager to get started on the new business.”

  “A new business,” his daet said bitterly. “There’s a business right here that needs you!”

  “Daet, I don’t mean to offend you,” Elijah said. “But I want more than this. I can’t do it. You know that.”

  His parents fell into silence for a few beats, and then his father said, “You’ll have to tell the bishop.”

  “My business doesn’t concern the bishop anymore,” Elijah said curtly.

  “His son does, though,” Daet replied. “You’ll have to tell him about his granddaughter.”

  Elijah looked up, then heaved a sigh. He’d rather tell Sadie, and let her pass the news along.

  “I’m sure Absolom will tell his family,” Elijah replied. “They likely received their own letter. Or will soon.”

  “Still—you have to tell him what you know,” his mother agreed. “We can’t keep Absolom’s secrets. What would the bishop think?”

  “I’ll—” Elijah cast about, looking for a solution. He’d promised the bishop he’d tell him if he had any news, but marching up and announcing this . . . he wasn’t even thinking of the bishop’s health. He was thinking of Absolom and his duty to his friend. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’ll tell him, though,” his mother clarified. “Yourself.”

  “Nettie, let him be. He’s a grown man now. He knows what needs to be done.”

  Elijah was grateful for his father’s support, and he rose from the table and tucked the letter into his pocket. He’d had more autonomy living his life with the Englishers. There was less at stake in his choices, fewer people who cared either way. It was the soaring freedom of a sparrow in a hurricane.

  “I’ll go to bed now,” Elijah said.

  “Have you had enough to eat?” his mother asked.

  “I’m fine, Mamm. I need to think. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, son.” His father picked up his mug and took a sip of tea.

  Once Elijah’s foot hit the creaky stairs, he could hear the murmur of their voices starting up again. He couldn’t make out the words, and he climbed the stairs that led to his bedroom. Even his younger sisters had all married and moved on. It was awkward to be here—the last remaining child under his parents’ roof at this age. But he was their only son—their last hope.

  He touched the letter in his pocket, and his mind went back to the room he’d rented in a Chicago apartment—four people living together with as much polite distance as possible. That’s where Absolom had met Sharon—they’d been housemates. And while Absolom crept into Sharon’s room at night, Elijah had been so desperately lonely that he’d lain in bed thinking about the only girl he’d ever loved. The rope swing and the little silver fish that flashed through the slow-moving water—he and Sadie used to try to catch them together—Sadie with her dress tucked up to keep dry, biting her bottom lip in concentration. Absolom would laugh at them and make jokes. Elijah always hid how he felt about his buddy’s sister when Absolom was around, because otherwise it would have been awkward between them. And Elijah would imagine what it would be like to see her again once he was successful. Even if she never loved him again, for her to see he’d done well for himself... that was the fantasy.

  But Sadie hadn’t slipped into the past quite so easily. Seeing her again, he’d hoped that he’d feel differently about her, recognize how very young they’d been back when she’d made his breath catch in his throat at the very sight of her. She was harder to rinse out of his heart than he’d thought, but that didn’t make it impossible, either.

  He’d leave Morinville again, and when he did, he’d have to leave Sadie’s memory firmly in the past. He couldn’t carry her with him anymore—his heart couldn’t take it.

  Tomorrow he’d give this letter to Sadie, and maybe it would comfort her, too. Because while Elijah had thought of Sadie for the last nine ye
ars, she hadn’t been thinking of him. She needed her brother, and this letter would be a connection to him.

  Elijah had never been her answer.

  * * *

  Sadie worked hard all that day, and the next. Her in-laws would arrive the very next day, and there was still so much to do. They’d baked since sunup, whipping up pies, bread, and racks filled with thimble cookies. The food wasn’t just for Mamm and Daet Hochstetler, but for the people who would come to visit them here at the house, too.

  Rosmanda was currently scrubbing every square inch of the upstairs, and Mamm had been called away by an elderly neighbor who’d hurt her leg and needed Mamm to help get some cooking done to feed them for a few days. That’s what neighbors were for. Here at home, Sadie had finally gotten Sammie down for his naptime this afternoon so that she could hang up the laundry before lunch. Her son would be dressed in crisp, clean clothes when he saw his grandparents, or she would collapse in the attempt.

  Sadie put down the hamper, overflowing with wet clothes, on the hallway floor while she glanced into the sitting room where Daet dozed in his rocking chair. He was fully asleep, his hands limp on top of the Bible in his lap. Was he really going to try to preach that Sunday?

  Sadie sighed and hoisted the hamper again. It was heavy, and her arms trembled under the weight of it. She angled her steps out the side door, bumping the screen door open with her hip on her way through. She dropped the hamper onto the porch with a grunt, then straightened, putting her hands into the small of her back. As she did so, she caught herself scanning the yard, her gaze trailing over the familiar places she normally saw Elijah working.

  What was she doing? She felt her face heat at the realization of her thoughts. But she’d been noticing things about him lately—his muscular arms, that direct dark gaze, the way his lips turned up when he was about to say something smart-alecky. Maybe it was because he was young, and her husband had not been. She’d been willing to adjust her marital expectations for Mervin, knowing that he was twenty-odd years her senior, but she was no longer married, was she? And for all of Elijah’s many faults, he was still an attractive man. Too attractive, maybe.

  Last night, she’d dreamed an uncomfortable dream where she and Elijah were back at the creek, except they were no longer children, and Elijah had been standing on a rock midstream, holding his hand out to her, saying, “Jump! I’ll catch you!” He’d been so handsome, the sun shining on his hair where his hat had fallen off, and his sparkling gaze had met hers so directly that it took her breath away. She’d hesitated, and the moment she’d made up her mind to jump and let those strong arms catch her, he suddenly turned away and walked off—although it made no sense to think of it now. Walked where? He was in the middle of the stream. How? But he’d left her perched on the edge of the bank, her heart aching with emptiness. She’d awoken feeling frustrated, and she’d started her day an hour early just to escape that clinging dream feeling.

  And here she was, scanning the yard for him.

  It was funny what the mind did when it was resting at night. Untangling memories. But it was more than that. She’d been attracted to him in that dream, and she’d wanted to feel his arms pulling her close so desperately that when he walked away from her, she’d nearly cried. She was no naïve girl—she’d been married, after all. She knew exactly what she was missing, and it was the physical connection. To be held close in strong arms, to be desired . . .

  Sadie picked up the first item of clothing—one of Samuel’s shirts—and shook it out. Then she pinned it to the line and reached for another shirt, her hands doing the work automatically.

  One aunt had given her some very sage advice the day before her wedding. Sadie, she’d said. When the lamp is turned off and the sun is set, the arms around you feel the same, whether he’s young and strapping, or older, like Mervin. In the dark, a man is a man. Her aunt had been trying to tell her not to let her eyes wander as the years went by, and Sadie had taken that advice to heart. But now, standing in the sunlight with a pile of wet laundry at her feet, she was thinking about strong arms and long nights.... Was she missing a man’s touch that badly, that she’d inserted Elijah Fisher into her dreams?

  The side door to the buggy stable opened, and a wheelbarrow came out first, followed by Elijah. He rolled the load of manure over to the dump pile, then tipped the barrow forward, giving it a clanking shake before he turned back again. It was then that he saw her, and gave her a nod. He left the wheelbarrow beside the barn and headed in her direction. Sadie didn’t slow in her work, but she watched him cross the grass, trying to calm the flutter in her stomach.

  He didn’t know about her dream, so she had no reason to be uncomfortable . . . and yet that dream had made her look at him a little differently today, noticing the way he walked and the way his shirt clung to his muscular biceps, much as she tried not to.

  “Sadie.” Elijah pulled off his hat and wiped his forehead, then replaced it, squinting up at her from where she stood a couple of feet above him on the porch.

  “Good morning, Elijah.” Prim and proper was probably the best approach.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine.” She bent to grab another item of clothing and came up with her own dress. She shook it out twice, the wet fabric snapping.

  “You upset about something?” He frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She softened her tone. “I’m busy, is all. My in-laws arrive tomorrow.”

  And truthfully, she wasn’t looking forward to this visit. Her in-laws hadn’t loved her quite so well as she’d implied. They’d thought she was too young of a choice, and they’d never hidden it well.

  “Ah.” Elijah nodded a couple of times. “I’ve been waiting to catch you alone.”

  Sadie’s breath caught, images of her dream slipping in past her defenses, and she shot him a cautious look. “Why?”

  “Have you gotten the mail yet today?” he asked instead.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you gotten anything from Absolom lately?”

  Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips. “No. Have you?”

  “Yes. Yesterday, a letter arrived. I only got it last night when I got home.”

  Sadie’s heart sped up at those words. There was news. The baby? It had to be. She’d been hoping that his child’s birth would make him write again . . . but he hadn’t written to them. He’d written to Elijah.

  “What did he say?”

  “I’ve got it here.” He fished around in his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She finished pinning her dress to the clothesline, then trotted down the steps and came around to where he stood. He held out the paper to her, and she eagerly snatched it up and opened it.

  Dear Elijah,

  It isn’t the same around here without you, and Sharon says to tell you that you’re missing out on the best season yet of Mystery Hunters—that show you were watching with her on TV. She wants to know when you’re coming back.

  She’s had the baby. A girl. She’s a healthy little thing—lots of squirming and crying and diapers and such. We named her Sarah—after Mamm. She’s a beautiful baby, Eli. I don’t even know how to explain it, but when that baby is your own kinner, you see it differently. And that cry sounds different, too. It makes you want to fix the problem right quick.

  “He named the baby after Mamm,” Sadie said with a misty smile. “That will mean the world to her.”

  Mamm was convinced her son had forgotten her, but this was proof that he hadn’t, and never would. Elijah was silent, staring down at his boots, so she kept reading.

  Sharon’s cooped up in the apartment, and it isn’t like at home where the women all help each other out. She’s by herself a lot, and she’s been getting sadder and sadder. You know how she always struggled with that, and with the baby it’s a lot worse. Chase helps his mamm out the best he can, but with me working all the time, it isn’t easy. . . . When I get home, Sharon and Chase are already asleep, so I
sit on the couch and hold my daughter. Sarah looks me in the face, and I’m sure she knows me.

  “Who’s Chase?” Sadie asked, looking up again.

  “That’s Sharon’s son from another relationship,” Elijah said. “He’s about four now.”

  “Oh . . .” There was another child in that home? She hadn’t realized that her brother was a stepfather, too. And the boy was only a little older than her Sammie. There was so much they didn’t know.

  I’m waiting on you to start up our company. I’m sick of this job, man. I can’t wait to quit and be my own boss. Don’t take too long. I have three customers lined up for lawn care, and I can’t start without you.

  Absolom

  Sadie folded the page again, her mind working over her brother’s words. Would there be a letter for them in a few days? Or had he decided not to tell them about his child at all? She licked her lips and looked down at the folded page in her hand.

  “May I keep it?” Her voice was choked, and she cleared her throat.

  “Yes,” Elijah said. “It’s fine.”

  “Mamm will want to see it.” She tried to smile, but it fell short, and she looked away again.

  “I’m sure he’ll write to you,” Elijah said, but she could hear the lie in his voice. He couldn’t be any surer of that than she could be.

  “I didn’t know he had a stepchild,” she said.

  “Yeah, Chase is a sweet kid. Your brother is good with him, but he’s not exactly a daet to him. He’s more a buddy, I guess. The mother’s boyfriend. It’s different.”

  Different . . . that was an understatement.

  “What does the boy call him?” she asked.

  “He just calls him Abe.” Elijah leaned against the side of the porch next to Sadie, and the warmth from his arm next to hers emanated against her comfortingly.

  “I can’t talk about my brother here in Morinville,” she murmured.