Levi grabbed a plate and put four pieces of toast on it. “Thanks, but I’m not going.” Using a potholder, he removed the camp-stove toaster from the flame and set an iron skillet in its place.
Andy scrubbed his hands and arms up to his elbows, washing off caked-on mud. They usually avoided work as much as possible on Sundays, but one of them had to tend to their small herd of horses. “I think Daniel’s coming tomorrow, so I took time to get the horse barn in order.”
“He’s not going to pay us a penny more for those horses because our barn looks good. Still, I’m sure the horses appreciate it, especially since they’re spending so much time under the shade trees in this weather.” He dumped the raw eggs into the hot skillet, making it sizzle.
“The fine art of sarcasm. Think maybe it’s time to give it a rest?” Andy turned off the water and took a dishtowel off the hook.
“Not for a second.” Levi stirred the eggs with a wooden spoon.
Andy retrieved three glasses from a cabinet and the milk from the fridge. “You should go tonight.”
Levi wrapped a potholder around the handle of the cast-iron skillet and lifted the pan, deciding just how much sarcasm to fling back at his brother. “Are you confusing me with someone who cares what you think?”
Andy grinned. “I’d never do that.” He set three plates on the table. “You do know that’s why Mamm brought a stack of clean, well-pressed clothes for you yesterday? She’s hoping you’ll go tonight. I think it’s time you met someone.”
Levi dumped the steaming eggs into a bowl and set it on the table. “And I think it’s time you minded your own business.”
“Tobias, why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your hands?”
Levi wasn’t fooled. His brother had just washed up in the kitchen, so there was no reason Tobias couldn’t do the same. Andy wanted Tobias out of earshot. The boy scurried down the hall and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. His little-boy voice came through the closed door. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”
“Not a problem,” Andy hollered, then turned to Levi. “Look, we’ve covered this before. You can’t keep avoiding women because I got a bad shake.”
A bad shake? Andy’s life had been mutilated, and he’d bear the scars in plain sight for the rest of his days.
Levi set the toast and butter on the table. “I understand Mamm and Daed pushing me. But I thought you and I had this resolved.”
“I never said it was settled. I left you alone for a while, but you’ve had enough time.”
“Excuse me?” Levi focused on his brother, eyes wide. “Do I live under your roof for my sake?”
“No. You do it for mine.” Andy snapped at a fly with a kitchen towel. “And I appreciate it. But it’s a holiday weekend, and that’s when the best singings take place. New girls from the other districts will be here to visit family and meet available men. Go have some fun for a change.”
Levi wasn’t interested. He’d witnessed one too many women say they were in love, only to walk away later. He was five years younger than Andy, and he’d spent his childhood shadowing his big brother. If Andy had a good day, Levi did too. So when Andy fell in love and married Eva, Levi felt as if he could lasso the moon. Eva became a sister to Levi, and she’d loved Andy. Levi knew she had. So what caused Eva to break her vows and leave her family?
Something similar had happened to Daniel too. Andy had been in the thick of losing Eva during Daniel’s courtship and wedding plans, so Levi was sketchy on the details, but this much he knew: Daniel’s fiancée had left him. At least the woman walked out before they were married, if only a few hours before. Daniel said she had accused him of being in the arms of another woman, and he admitted he’d been in a room alone with her cousin. But he claimed he never laid a hand on the girl. The last Levi had heard about it, Daniel said his former fiancée had hightailed it somewhere. Maybe Illinois, Peoria, or Peru.
Eva’s departure was worse. It’d left Andy without a wife and Tobias without a mother. And they would stay that way since an Amish man could not remarry as long as his former spouse was alive. No exceptions.
“Kumm on, Levi.” Andy rubbed the center of his forehead. “Please go. I need a break from Mamm’s pleading eyes. She’s fretting over this. You know she is.”
Tobias ran back into the room, holding up his hands to his Daed. Andy pulled a chair out for his son. “You had hands under all that dirt, didn’t you?”
The boy nodded and took a seat. “I’ve been thinking ’bout all these singings everybody keeps telling Uncle Levi to go to. Maybe he doesn’t want to go there to meet girls.”
“Ya.” Levi sat. “I think he’s onto something, Andy.”
Tobias folded his little hands, preparing for the silent prayer. “Maybe he’d like the idea better if, instead of girls, you’d put a herd of horses in the barn where the singing takes place. He likes them just fine.”
Andy looked at Levi, trying not to laugh.
Levi sighed. “Tobias, you got this all wrong. I like girls.”
“You do?” Tobias’s big brown eyes were filled with innocence.
“I do.” Levi turned to his brother. “Fine. I’ll go.”
Still, he had to figure out a way to settle this issue for his family and his impressionable nephew. But how?
Sadie steadied her breathing. She’d tried to avoid angering her father. After her arrival yesterday, she’d tiptoed through all the conversational land mines, avoiding each potential explosion. Until now.
Daed wagged his finger at her. “Duh net schwetze.”
She pursed her lips, determined to obey him and not speak—not in English or Pennsylvania Dutch. She ached for the grief she had caused the man who had embraced her so warmly yesterday. The one who had spent a lifetime telling her to listen to God’s voice no matter what anyone else said. The one who had understood her need to get away from Brim. There was no doubt that he had a fierce, determined love for her. But now he was angry. And probably afraid. According to him, she had grown up as the sweetest-natured and most obedient daughter. But something in her broke the day she saw Daniel’s body entwined with Aquilla’s, and there was no going back, not even for her Daed’s sake.
Mammi Lee pursed her lips and shook her head. “Sadie.”
Her grandmother’s voice had never held such sorrow and disappointment. Her family’s reaction hurt. So much for being loving and respectful over the long weekend and for not stirring up any arguments. And today was only Sunday.
As soon as she’d arrived, her parents and grandmother had asked her a lot of questions. She’d tried to be honest without giving away her plans to return to Peru with the mission team after Christmas. She figured there would be an opportunity to ease into that conversation closer to December. But while dodging questions about the lease on the home she rented with her friends, her Daed had picked up on her reluctance and pressed her. Before she knew it, she had told everyone about South America. And she was talking about staying there for another year. Maybe two.
Daed focused on her. “Was iss letz with du?”
His accusing tone frustrated her. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Some of my earliest memories are of you holding my hands while we prayed. You taught me to pay attention to God’s leading. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
He shook his finger at her again. “I told you to be quiet.”
“And then you asked me a question.” Her voice went up a few decibels. Why was it easier nowadays to live with strangers than visit with her family?
“I’ve put up with more than enough since you and Daniel parted ways. I’ve allowed much more freedom than I should have, because I blame myself for having encouraged that relationship. But we both have to accept what happened and start fresh.” Daed studied her, then nodded as if answering a question he’d asked himself. “You need to work out your notice at that store and with your roommates. I want you home by Christmas, and I will not discuss this again.”
Sadie looked acro
ss the small kitchen to her mother and grandmother, beseeching them to defend her. Mammi Lee lowered her eyes, but disappointment and hurt clouded her mom’s face. Mamm wiped a stray tear, clearly distressed.
Her parents had come all this way to share some time with the Lee side of the family, and even though her mom and grandmother had been cooking all day for a family gathering tonight at an uncle’s place, no one would be in a mood to go after this heated argument.
The three stood there, staring at Sadie, wanting her to repent of her dreams. She swallowed hard, trying not to feel broken. “I tried to change the subject and not say anything to upset you. If you don’t want to know, please don’t make me answer your questions.”
“You’re our daughter and a baptized member of our community.” Mamm pulled a tissue from the hidden pocket of her black apron. “How can we not ask questions?” She wiped her eyes.
“It’s time for you to come home.” Daed crossed his arms. “A new Amish family has moved to Brim from Ohio. They have seven unmarried sons. Five are of marrying age. If you were home—”
“Daed, stop.” Her parents didn’t understand her any more than she understood them. All she wanted was to use her faith in Christ on the mission field. Was that so wrong?
Daed rubbed the back of his neck, breaking his stony stare. He turned and went into the next room.
Mamm cleared her throat and pulled a roll of aluminum foil out of a drawer. “Let’s line a cardboard box with this and put the food in it.” She sidestepped Sadie, speaking to Mammi Lee. “That way, if any of our dishes spill, it won’t leak onto our dresses.”
Mammi Lee left and returned with a large box. “It may take two this size to pack up all the food.”
They acted as if no one had just trampled over Sadie’s plans. Why couldn’t Mamm see past Daed’s fears and think for herself? Why did she have to agree with him every time?
A humid breeze drifted across the room, and the great outdoors called to Sadie. She longed to sneak away, saddle a horse, and ride across fields of green, with no one seeing her but God—an opportunity she didn’t have often in Stone Creek.
“Sadie,” Daed called.
She went through the tiny Daadi Haus and into the living room. He folded the newspaper in his hand and pointed at the couch. She sat and waited.
The balmy air carried the aroma of gardenias, and she could imagine all the wonderful fragrances she’d experience on a long horseback ride.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’ll warn you now that I’m losing patience with your stubbornness. And I should.” He tapped the newspaper on the arm of the chair. “You’ve got to stop running. Daniel hurt you deeply, and his lies have only made it worse. I understand that. But it’s time to come home and find someone else.”
She bit her bottom lip, wanting to correct him. Yes, Daniel had crushed her, and his lies humiliated her, but she’d quit pining over him years ago. What had happened between them had freed her in a way nothing else could. But if she told her Daed that, he’d be more determined that she return home.
His voice droned on and on.
During her three short visits to Brim since leaving, she’d been careful to say little, hoping not to stir up any trouble. She’d never shame her parents or siblings or community by leaving the Order, but she didn’t fit easily inside the church anymore. She was best on her own, listening closely for God’s voice. He hadn’t yet let her down. If He had, she would be married to a lying cheat. So until God gave her direction, she’d do her best to keep the peace with her family.
She took a deep breath and focused on the simple pleasure of being at her grandmother’s.
The smell of spices hung in the air, hinting at the promise of tonight’s feast at her uncle Jesse’s house, less than a mile away. The Amish didn’t celebrate the Fourth of July, because doing so would celebrate a war and the killing that comes with war. Still, it was a national holiday, so they often used it as a time to gather with family. Some Amish youth would attend the town’s show of fireworks.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Sadie’s thoughts jerked back to her father. The honest answer was no, so she shook her head.
He slung the newspaper onto the floor. “Whether three hundred miles from home or on a different continent or in the same room, you make talking with you ridiculously difficult. Which is the way you want it, right?”
“Okay.” Mamm walked into the room. “The food is packed up. It’s time to go.”
Daed stood. “Sadie will stay here. The family will ask her questions, and I don’t like any of her answers. It’s not a good influence for the younger ones.”
Mamm blinked. “After she came all this way to be with the family?”
It was Sadie’s turn to be shocked. Mamm never questioned Daed.
Her father tucked in a section of his shirt. “If she had been paying any attention to me, I’d have let her go. But since she’s determined to heed only her own thoughts, she won’t miss spending time with her cousins.”
Daed’s judgment was nearly her undoing, but she held her tongue. Without another word he went to the door and held it open while her mom and grandmother toted their baked goods from the house.
Sadie couldn’t believe he was leaving her here! She was a twenty-three-year-old woman, not a child. If her father insisted on grounding her from the festivities with her family, she’d be tempted to saddle up Mammi Lee’s horse Bay and enjoy a ride. It’d be nice to spend a few hours pretending that nothing owned her except freedom.
Mamm came back into the house and walked over to her. She lingered, looking as if she wanted to divulge a secret.
“I’m fine, Mamm. Go on before Daed gets angry with you too.”
Mamm smiled. “He’s not as bad as he sounds when he’s trying to reason with you. He could complain to the church leaders, and they’d pull you home by your apron strings. But he hasn’t. For the last two years he’s feared that if we didn’t get you home, we’d lose any chance of you returning to your roots.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I’ll visit when I can, but I don’t believe I’m meant to live in Brim.”
“You thought you were at one time.” Her mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Are you sure it’s God’s call you hear and not your own?”
Sadie looked out the window, praying for the right words. The emerald leaves on the gardenia bush swayed in the breeze, and a robin disappeared between the thick greenery, probably nesting. Did God want her in Peru, or did she simply long to be as far away as possible from the memory of her greatest pain?
“Sadie?”
She lifted her eyes, hating that tears had begun to well in them. “Can anyone be positive about such a thing?”
Mamm cupped Sadie’s face in her hands. “You’d like the Lantz men from Ohio. Two have already found wives.” She grinned. “But the one I think would be perfect for you isn’t seeing anyone.”
“Ya, and how do you know that? Because he says so … like Daniel did?” Taken aback by her own words, Sadie winced. Maybe she wasn’t over the pain as much as she’d thought.
“Child.” Mamm’s singular word was filled with compassion and dismay. She kissed Sadie’s forehead. “We’ll be home after midnight.”
“Give everyone my love.” She swallowed hard, unsure if she meant the words or if she was using them as a jab. It was absurd that she wouldn’t be at her uncle’s home to give them her love.
She flopped onto the couch and stared at the wall. The sunlight faded, and darkness began to deepen. The hands on the mantle clock marked the passing hours. Was everything she longed to do wrong? Or was her Daed overreaching his authority simply because he could? Well, he could as long as she honored him by obeying.
The desire to ride swept through her again, but when her Daed had left her behind, he’d intended for her to stay in the house.
A few fireworks popped and crackled in the distance. She sat up and lit a kerosene lantern. The dim yellow glow mad
e a large circle around her. She went to a table and picked up her grandmother’s German Bible. A tattered cloth bookmark stuck out of its pages, and she opened it to that spot—Hebrews, chapter 1. She returned to the couch and read, stopping from time to time to think and pray, hoping the words would speak to her.
Levi walked from the flaming bonfire in the Stoltzfuses’ backyard toward the barn. He’d known the evening would end like this, with him leaving alone while others watched.
“Levi?”
He turned to see Ruth Esh.
Even under the dark sky, her eighteen-year-old face glowed with pink hues, probably because of her forwardness at following him. “I wanted to wish you a happy Fourth.”
That’s not all she wanted, and he knew it. She’d like him to offer to take her home.
“I hope you enjoy your off day tomorrow, Ruth.” He tipped his hat. “G’night.”
She continued standing there, brushing off mosquitoes or rubbing spots where she already had been bitten.
He squelched the desire to walk off. “The insects are less likely to bother you if you’re near the fire.”
“It’s barely after nine. Don’t you want to stay a little longer? The Stoltzfuses have lawn chairs set up on the back hill facing the town. They said we’ll be able to see some fireworks … and afterward maybe you wouldn’t mind taking me home.”
His horseless carriage stood outside the barn, lined up with two dozen others. But all he wanted to do was leave the rig here and ride home bareback.
Levi admired her courage in asking him right out. “That’s really nice of you, but I need to go.” He tipped his hat again, hoping she’d walk back to the group. “Evening.”
“Bye.”
The moment she turned toward the house, he strode for the barn. Once in the dark building, he lit a lantern. Dust floated in the air, easily seen in the soft glow of the lamp. A long row of bridles hung on a dirty plank wall, held up by ten-penny nails. Horses lined the feed trough, grazing on hay while waiting for their owners to return and hitch them to their carriages.
The Dawn of Christmas: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country Page 2
