An Amish Husband for Tillie

by Amy Lillard

  “I just want to stay here till dawn,” she said.

  “There’s a blanket in the tack room,” he grumbled after a few moments of thought. The last person he wanted in his barn was Tillie Gingerich. The fact that he didn’t want anybody in his barn was irrelevant. She was by far the worst person to be there at all. She constantly reminded him of everything he had lost. She constantly reminded him that Christmas was just around the corner. Somehow just by looking into her hazel eyes, he remembered how alone he was.

  But he couldn’t turn her out in the cold. He couldn’t do that to anyone. Even his dog was sleeping in the house. He turned to go back that way. He could feel her eyes on him as he approached the door.

  Even his dog was sleeping in the house.

  Can you really do it?

  Could he let his pregnant dog sleep in the house and leave a pregnant woman out in the barn just because she reminded him of the things that he loved and lost?

  His feet stopped at the door. He didn’t tell them to; they just did it on their own. One more step and he would have been out of the barn. But there he stood. He sucked in a deep breath. Let it out. Turned to face her. “You can sleep in the spare room,” he grunted. His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. One of those cavemen he had heard the English talk about. It was gruff and coarse, more guttural than anything. But that was only because his throat was clogged with so many emotions.

  If the last thing he wanted was Tillie Gingerich in his barn, then the very last thing he wanted was Tillie Gingerich in his house. But it seemed he had no choice in the matter.

  “Come on.” He motioned for her to follow him and didn’t look back to see if she did.

  He couldn’t. He didn’t want to be inhospitable. He didn’t want to be unchristian-like, but he wasn’t sure his heart could take it.

  Oh, Lord, why are you testing me? What have I done? But even as he said that small little prayer, he knew he would have no reply. God just simply wasn’t answering him these days. It was as if he was leaving Levi to fend for himself, like a sink-or-swim kind of thing. Sink or swim in life’s tragedies.

  Up the porch steps, across the wooden planks of the porch itself, into the front door, and there he stopped. He sensed rather than heard her behind him. Even with the ungainly belly she was carrying around, she seemed to glide wherever she went. Graceful, at least all the times he had seen her before. He sucked in a deep breath and turned to face her once again. “The spare bedroom is upstairs. First door on the right. I’ll get some sheets. Maybe something for you to wear.”

  What was she going to wear? One of Mary’s dresses? It should have been an easy yes, but it wasn’t. How could he look at her in Mary’s dress? He hadn’t even been in Mary’s closet since she died.

  Lord, lord, why are you testing me?

  “Danki,” she murmured. Then she turned and started toward the staircase. Gone was the grace he had seen earlier. She was limping. Had she hurt herself on her walk there? She must have. He had never seen her like that before. He supposed it wasn’t easy navigating back roads in the dark. So what was she doing out here at this time of night? What was she doing sneaking into his barn? And now that she was here, what was he going to do about it?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “She’s got to be somewhere,” Eunice said. As the words left her mouth, she sent up a silent prayer that they were true. Tillie had to be somewhere; didn’t mean she still had to be at home. And the thought was becoming more and more obvious the longer they searched for her: she was gone.

  Eunice just didn’t understand it. One minute, Tillie had been there eating and drinking alongside everyone. And then the next she was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if she had vanished into thin air. It was an impossibility, of course, but Eunice had no better ideas as to what had happened to her youngest daughter.

  “I’ll go up to my house and make sure she didn’t sneak off and go up there,” David said.

  “Me too.” Anna nodded.

  The two of them left to check their houses.

  “What about the cabin?” Jamie asked.

  “Good idea,” Leah added. “I’ll go with you.”

  Leah and Jamie grabbed their coats as well and headed out the door.

  Eunice ran through her mental checklist. They had checked Mammi’s room, in the kitchen, the back porch, the sewing room, the front porch, even the outhouse. And there was no sign of Tillie.

  “She’s just been acting so funny lately,” Eunice said.

  Hannah sidled up next to her and ran one arm around her shoulders. “I know.”

  They all knew. Tillie had been going through so much, and there was not anything anyone could do for her.

  “The bishop came by this week,” Eunice said.

  Hannah drew away in surprise. “Jah?”

  Eunice nodded, and tears started welling in her eyes. “Her situation is impossible.”

  Hannah seemed to think about it for a moment. Then she nodded. “I understand. But there’s always a way.”

  Was there? Eunice hoped. But all signs were pointing to Tillie going back to the English world.

  “It’s starting to rain,” Jim said.

  Eunice looked at her oldest. Rain and sleet clung to his coat.

  A sob escaped her. She knew she was overreacting, just as she knew Tillie was gone. Out there somewhere in the dark, in the bad weather, pregnant and most likely upset. As her mother, Eunice needed to do something.

  Hannah turned to her son. “Brandon?”

  The young man nodded. “I’m on it.” He pulled out his cell phone and called the police. Eunice barely registered what he was saying. All she could think about was Tillie and the baby.

  “It’s starting to get bad out there,” Matthew said. “Before long we won’t be able to get the horses out in this.”

  “Horses?” Eunice hated the sound of her voice. It was no longer a word that she had said, but rather a screech. Her daughter was out there alone and they were worried about the horses?

  “Mamm, breathe.” Hannah rubbed her shoulders. “Tillie is a smart girl. If it has started to rain or sleet or whatever it’s doing out there, she’s found shelter.”

  Gracie nodded and took a step toward Eunice. “Hannah’s right. And we don’t know which direction she went. Or even if she truly left the property.”

  The front door opened and Abner came back into the house. His hat and coat were glittering with rain and sleet. He stamped off his boots and hung his hat on the peg. “She’s not in the barn.”

  Eunice walked slowly to the couch and sank down into the cushions. The barn had been her last hope. There was a new litter of kittens out there, and the horses, of course. Tillie had always loved animals. Eunice had hoped she had gone out there seeking solace in the touch of their fur. And now that hope was shattered.

  Lord, please take care of my baby girl, Eunice silently prayed. Take care of my girl and bring her home.

  * * *

  Tillie sat on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes. She peeled the wet stockings from her legs and hung them over the back of the chair to dry. The room was small, and the lantern she had carried up the stairs with her only illuminated a small part of it. Just enough that she could see the bed wasn’t made and there were no clothes in the closet. She wasn’t sure what she was going to wear, but one thing was certain: she couldn’t stay in her own wet clothes. She would be much warmer naked and under the covers than she would in frozen clothing. But there were no covers. Not yet, anyway. She ran her hands up and down her arms, but it created no warmth for her.

  A light knock sounded at the door, just seconds before it opened. Slowly Levi Yoder poked his head inside. “I have bedding. You can make the bed.” He spoke the last sentence more like a question. So Tillie nodded.

  She wanted to tell him that this was the last place she wanted to be as much as it was the last place he wanted her, but she kept her peace.

  He cleared his throat. “And a dress,” he said
. “I have a dress.” He didn’t say whose dress it was, and she didn’t have the words to ask.

  His hands trembled as he set the clothes on the desk just inside the room. He was reluctant to leave the items. Most likely the dress. His late wife’s dress. Tillie wished there was something else she could put on. She could see that giving her the frack to wear was taking a toll on him.

  It seemed he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He just backed away, out into the hall, and shut the door behind him.

  Tillie stood there for a moment, then pulled her dress over her head. She hung it on the hook to dry, then stepped out of her underwear and placed it next to her stockings. Hopefully both would be dry in the morning and she would be able to wear them home.

  The dress he had brought her was blue. Just the simple navy blue that was so common in their district. It slipped easily over her head and fell softly around her calves. The sleeves were too long and the hem almost reached her ankles, but it was dry, and that counted for a lot.

  Tillie took off her prayer kapp. The rain had practically destroyed it, but she sat it on the desk in hopes that it would at least dry by the morning.

  Though Levi hadn’t mentioned it, he had brought her a towel as well. She unpinned her hair and patted it dry as best she could. Then she went about the task of making the bed. She had never made a bed in a place she never wanted to stay. It was odd to need to do that chore and hate it at the same time. But she knew Levi didn’t want her there, and that knowledge sat like a lump of clay in her belly. Unmoving, indigestible, just taking up space and making her even more uncomfortable than she already was.

  She was reaching across the mattress to tuck in the fitted sheet when a twinge caught in her side. She rubbed the spot, the same spot where she had cramped up on the way there. She had heard the ladies talking about cramps like these. False labor, most the Amish said; Braxton Hicks or something like that was what the English called them, but basically it was just the baby getting ready to be born. She still had three weeks to go. But it seemed this new life was gearing up.

  And then what are you going to do?

  She pushed that voice away and shook out the flat sheet. It was hard smoothing it across the mattress. Her belly kept bumping the edge, and the twinge in her side tweaked every time she stretched too far. But she finally accomplished the task, as well as spreading the blankets on top. Levi had also brought her a thick afghan that wasn’t as big as the bed, so she placed it over the spot where she thought she would lay. It would add extra warmth, and right now she could use all the heat she could get.

  She moved the lantern over close to the bed and pulled back the covers so she could get under them. She was loath to turn out the lamp. It was one thing to be in total darkness at home and another in the home of a man who wished she were anywhere but there. But she couldn’t leave it on all night. She doused the flame and laid her head on the soft pillow. She was tired, exhausted, but she couldn’t seem to close her eyes. The room was so dark she couldn’t tell if they were open anyway. So she made herself close them. She could do this. She would go to sleep tonight, and in the morning everything would look different. Surely the rain would stop by then. Surely her dress would be dry. She could change and walk home first thing.

  Except her side still hurt. She hadn’t been paying attention to her steps and looking at where she was going. She hadn’t thought about how far she was walking. It was surprising that she made it all the way to Levi Yoder’s house. How far would she have walked had the rain not started? There was no way of knowing that now.

  Tillie turned onto her right side and rubbed the aching spot on her left. That’s all she needed, a good night’s sleep, and she would be right back to her old self, which meant of course worrying about what she was going to do next, all the while knowing what had to be done. It didn’t matter about her good intentions. It didn’t matter about the fact that she didn’t consider her child a mistake. All that mattered was she wasn’t married to her father’s baby, and that man was Melvin Yoder.

  * * *

  Levi sighed and stared out into the darkness. Part of him wanted to sneak back up the stairs to check and see if she was really here. That was as childish as closing his eyes and pretending he wasn’t visible. Tillie Gingerich was upstairs in his guest bedroom sleeping in one of his late wife’s dresses while he lay awake and thought about it all.

  So much craziness was stirring around inside his head. Thoughts of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus. Thoughts of his Mary and their baby, a baby boy who would have been born very, very soon had the Lord not seen fit to take them away. And thoughts of Tillie and the baby she carried. He wasn’t one for gossip, though he knew men who were. And he heard them talk. Not about Tillie and the baby, but about Melvin. How they could understand why a man with his talents for engines would want to live among the English and work where the repairs were numerous. What Levi couldn’t understand was why Melvin couldn’t remain Amish and still work on engines. Levi himself loved leatherwork, and he made things for the English. It was all a trade. As an Amish man, all his life he had lived a bit separately from the English who surrounded them. They all did. And yet they couldn’t live without them. They couldn’t completely seclude themselves. Most of the people who came into Mary’s store, her little shop where she sold jellies and necklaces made out of buttons, were English. The Amish made their own pot holders, their own jelly, and they grew their own tomatoes. They didn’t shop at each other’s stores. Those were strictly for the English, and it was a good relationship they had. For the most part. The English kept their distance and the Amish kept theirs. They could live together, side by side. So why did Melvin Yoder seem so bent on living English? The only answer he could come up with was that there was another draw to that world, more than just plentiful engines that needed his touch.

  Maybe it was freedoms; maybe he had lost his faith in God—Levi had no idea, though there had to be something. But he couldn’t think of anything that would make him leave his wife and child.

  Not when he would do anything to have them back.

  He flipped to the other side, but in the darkness the view was no different, and it wasn’t any more comfortable. It had nothing to do with the bed, his pillow, or the sound of the tiny ice pellets hitting the glass panes of the window next to his bed. It had everything to do with the woman upstairs.

  He wasn’t being fair to her. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. But his feelings were powerful. It cost him dearly to give her one of Mary’s dresses to wear. And it shouldn’t have. Mary was gone. She couldn’t wear it anymore. Tillie was here and she needed it. But offering it to her was like pouring salt in the wound.

  Lord, give me strength. Stand with me. Amen.

  He said the prayer even though it had been a while since God had answered any of his requests. Maybe that was the problem. He was asking too much. Or maybe it was just that he was asking. Every man knew there was a time when you gave, you gave to the Lord. And there were times when you received. Apparently this was one of his giving times.

  That’s not what he wanted this to be about. He didn’t want his life to feel like a chore, like a sacrifice to God.

  Lord, give me strength, he prayed again.

  Maybe if he asked for time . . .

  Levi closed his eyes, only then aware that he had opened them again. Every little sound disturbed him. Puddles was in the kitchen next to the potbellied stove, where she had been sleeping these last few days. She was warm, and her puppies were still safe inside. And if she went to whelp in the house, it would just be another mess to clean. But the little cattle dog puppies would be warm and safe. The woman upstairs had a dry dress. She had a warm blanket, a soft bed, and a pillow to cushion her head. He had provided her a roof over her head and shelter from the storm. There was nothing more he could give her.

  His animals in the barn were stabled. They had hay and water and everything they needed as the ice fell outside. So why did he feel like there was so
mething more? Why did he feel like there was something he had forgotten?

  * * *

  Tillie woke in the middle of the night with a start. Somehow she had drifted off to sleep without being aware of doing so. But the thought that had awakened her was of her family. She had just walked out. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. At the time she hadn’t known. And she certainly hadn’t predicted ending up at Levi Yoder’s house. She had simply started walking. But no one at her house knew where she was. As if her mother didn’t have enough to worry about. Truth be known, Eunice Gingerich was something of a worrywart. But Tillie knew her mother just loved her children. She wanted them safe—wanted her children and her grandchildren safe from harm.

  They had been in the middle of the Christmas celebration. The middle of the family party filled with games and laughter. And Tillie had walked out. She was certain they knew she was gone now just as she was certain that the ice falling here was falling there. No one would find her until tomorrow. No one would know where she was. Her mother would worry unnecessarily. And there was no one to blame but Tillie.

  She had always been impulsive. The nature of impulse had led her to where she was today. Impulsively she had left her family behind. Impulsively she had thought her relationship with Melvin was secure enough to break the rules she’d been taught her entire life. Impulsively she had left him and come home. And impulsively she was now stranded at Levi Yoder’s.

  She could feel the anxiety building in her chest. She’d never meant to worry her family. And she hoped and prayed that they weren’t beside themselves wondering where she was. But she knew that wasn’t the case. She hoped no one got out in the messy weather to look for her. Surely they would figure out that she had found shelter. But even with that thought, the anxiety built until she felt like there were bricks on her chest. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic inside her.