Faith and Trust in Lancaster (The Amish of Lancaster County #2)

by Daisy Fields

  Annie was shaking by the time he finished his tirade. “Don’t you lecture me about right and wrong,” she thundered.

  “Aaron,” said Katie firmly, putting a hand on his arm, “stop.” He was so shocked, he did. Katie then looked at Annie. “Are you okay?”

  “I . . . I think so,” Annie said slowly, wonder dawning in her. After her horrible experience in New York City, she had never thought an Englischer would stand by her in anything. Maybe she was wrong to suspect Katie’s intentions. Maybe the girl really did want to learn about their ways. “Denki for asking.”

  Katie released Aaron and approached Annie. “You really seem to care for this Jacob. What’s in your heart? Have you prayed about it? God will guide us if we open ourselves to receive His message.”

  “I have, but possibly not enough,” Annie said. She closed her eyes. Dear God, please tell me what I should do.

  “Who is in your heart right now?” Katie asked softly. “What face do you see there?”

  Annie’s lips still tingled with the memory of Jacob’s kiss. In fact, her whole body was awash with the experience. She felt for her heart and realized it was still thudding, thudding, thudding in her chest. Jacob, she thought. Jacob is in my heart. Of course! Why wouldn’t I see it before?

  Stephen was a kind, gentle man with a steady, reliable temperament and an equally predictable future. She would be content with hm.

  But Jacob—Jacob had fire. Jacob had ambition. Jacob understood that part of Annie which no one else did. Jacob made her feel things. Surely that was the sign from God she needed.

  She opened her eyes to find both Katie and Aaron staring anxiously at her. “Jacob,” she whispered, then cleared her throat and said it loudly. “Jacob. Jacob is in my heart.”

  * * *

  Miri couldn’t stop staring and laughing as Mikey led her through the three-level toy store. More of the colors, lights, noise, and general dazzle she’d come to associate with Manhattan, plus giant stuffed animals for her to hug! She donned a tiara studded with plastic gems, did a wild dance on a blinking keypad, made a doll say it wanted chocolate in Persian, and posed for the pictures Mikey kept snapping with his cell phone.

  She was too embarrassed to tell him what her favorite toy was, though: the escalator. Stairs that moved you up and down without you having to do anything! But you could walk along them if you wanted—and she’d even spotted one person purposely going the wrong way. It was just such a lazy, indulgent invention, and Miri was coming to develop quite a taste for lazy, indulgent things.

  Her heart scolded her, pointing out that her mamm would be so disappointed. Ya, she probably would.

  But her mamm wasn’t here, her newfound sense of adventure countered. And she was here to try new things.

  So Miri pushed her conscience aside and didn’t pull away when Mikey slipped his hand into hers and led her out of the store. His eyes were so soft and admiring when they gazed into hers, but contrary to everything she’d heard about English boys, he didn’t do anything more than that.

  Miri squeezed back and grinned at him. She felt so free! Dear God, she prayed, I’m learning so much on this journey! It’s clear You want me to try many things, so I want to thank You for ice cream, for the Roth family and their amazing apartment so filled with electronic goodies, and for Mikey. He’s dashing! And I think he thinks I’m quite lovely, too.

  Well, she had outdone herself with the makeup and hairstyles. She hadn’t thought she would be able to pick up the art of glamour at all, but to her surprise, she had a knack for it. Even Pamela had exclaimed gleefully that Miri was a natural. It was enough to make her wonder what life would have been like if she’d been raised English.

  Miri chased that thought away. That veered much too close to blasphemy for her liking. She did love her parents, and she did respect the Ordnung, even if she was wearing a sleek dress that ended mid-thigh and sky-blue glitter on her eyelids. Even if she was out with the handsome black son of wealthy stockbrokers, someone who had never lifted a hand to hard labor in his life.

  It wasn’t fair! Why did she have to choose?

  Suddenly her joy in everything dissipated, smashed by the realization that she’d have to make a choice soon. Rumspringa wouldn’t last forever . . .

  “Hey, hey, what’s this?” Mikey asked, shaking her hand to get her attention. “Are you missing home?”

  Miriam started. Had she been that transparent? “In a manner of speaking.”

  Mikey flashed his beautiful smile. “Well, I know just the cure for the blues. Gelato!”

  “Oh, ya!” Miri exclaimed. “Weren’t we to go for a stroll in a park? Whatever happened to that?”

  “That’s still on,” Mikey said, “but we had to make a quick detour, because I wanted to get you this.” With a flourish, he took a small plush dragon from behind his back and handed it to her. “I already paid, so you can’t say no.”

  Miri blinked rapidly, unable to believe it. The dragon was beautiful, and so very purple, as though someone had molded it from a bunch of grapes. “But—but why?” she managed.

  “Because I like you,” he said simply. Pretending not to see her lip trembling, he took the dragon from her and fitted it on her shoulder. “See? She’s made to go wherever you do. A constant companion for when you’re lonely.”

  On an impulse, Miri threw her arms around him. “That’s the nicest thing you could have done for me.” Her voice quavered, and she dropped her head so he wouldn’t see her cry.

  He stiffened, then hugged her close. “It’s okay,” he murmured, not caring that they were in the middle of a crowded street, or that a girl he barely knew was sobbing on his shoulder. “I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. If I had to leave everything I knew, I don’t even know what I’d do. I really don’t.”

  And Miri had to admit that she did miss home. She was so mad at herself! This is ridiculous. One second, I’m so excited to take on the Big Apple, and the next, I’m crying like a simmi. How could a sophisticated man like Mikey like me?

  “Come, cupcake,” Mikey said, letting go and gently dabbing at her cheeks with a tissue. “Let’s go get that gelato and go for a walk in the park. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

  Avoiding his eyes, Miri nodded, and they melted back into the flow of pedestrians. “All this . . . can be really overwhelming,” she admitted.

  Mikey nodded. “I can see that. And you should know, we all think you’re really brave. All of us. The Roths, my parents, my friends, and me.”

  “You do?” Miriam’s heart leaped in her chest.

  “You bet.”

  She felt a lot better as they made their way to Mikey’s favorite gelateria. She was learning all kinds of new words, too. Mikey explained that gelato was Italian ice cream, and you bought it in a gelateria. Miri repeated the words until she sounded like Mikey when she said them.

  Inside the gelateria, she gazed in awe at the glass case full of tubs. Each tub had a unique flavor, ranging from something called stracciatella to basil goat cheese to lobster!

  “I’m going to get plain old chocolate,” Mikey announced. “What about you?”

  Miriam randomly pointed to a tub labeled ROSEMARY HONEY. “This one.”

  Mikey made a sound of admiration and ordered for both of them. Then he led her across the street to a vast green space. “Welcome to Central Park!”

  Miriam’s lips curled into a smile of recognition. The enormous expanse of grass made her think of her fields at home. The sun was so bright, she pulled on the fancy sunglasses Pamela had gotten her. Prada something. They tinted the world a sepia brown.

  They wandered along, taking small bites of their gelato. The flavor of Miri’s was intense and strange, but once she got used to it, absolutely delicious. And the milk used was so creamy, it made her tongue sing with pleasure.

  A disc whirled by in the air, and Mikey quickly moved to shield her with his body. “That’s just a Frisbee,” he explained. “People throw them as far as they can.
It’s a game. But trust me when I say it’s no fun to get smacked by one.”

  Miri just laughed happily. She couldn’t believe how natural it felt to be there with him, there in the middle of this oddly lush green respite in the middle of this weird concrete wonderland.

  “Mikey,” she whispered, her voice a whisper. “Will you remember me when I’m gone?”

  He frowned. “Why, are you planning a trip somewhere?”

  She nudged him playfully in the side. “Silly! I have to go home when my rumspringa is over.”

  Mikey turned a serious face on her. “Do you? Do you really?”

  Miri looked around, taking in the green hills of the park, the popcorn seller with her red cart, the pretzel seller with his blue one, the people strolling along and chatting and just enjoying themselves. The “yes” died on her tongue.

  “You could stay here, you know,” Mikey said, staring off into the distance.

  Miri let herself imagine what that would be like. A beautiful life full of lunch dates like Pamela had, a husband as wonderful as Mikey, close enough to home to be able to visit, all the restaurants and movie theaters and museums she could ever hope to explore. There was a whole world, and she wanted to know everything about it.

  “But you don’t have to decide right now,” Mikey rushed to say. “Let’s just have fun right now. There’s a party tonight at my friend Jenny’s place. Want to come?”

  A party. Miriam had never been to a real party that didn’t involve prayer or quilting. The closest her community came to a party was the Meetings, and somehow she didn’t think that Jenny’s party would be anything similar. “Sure! I’d love to!”

  “Great,” Mikey said, sounding relieved. Miri was confused. Had he actually thought she might say no? There was still so much she didn’t understand about Englischers!

  Something trilled, and Miri looked around for the bird making the sound until Mikey whipped out his phone. “Sorry,” he said, “I have to take this.”

  Miri was so busy pretending she hadn’t been looking for a bird, it took her a minute to realize Mikey had slipped out of earshot. He looked odd, his face closed, as he spoke into his phone. For a second, Miri wished she could hear what he was saying, but then she chastised herself. That was rude! She knew better. She knew that everyone was entitled to privacy, and if Mikey wanted to talk to someone alone, that was his right.

  She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, though. It felt weird and awkward to be standing alone. Suddenly she couldn’t help but be aware of just how much she didn’t know. If Mikey weren’t there, how would she get home? She hadn’t even written down her host family’s address! She didn’t have a cell phone yet, and most of her money was safely tucked away beneath her mattress at the Roths’. Fear shot through her.

  Her gelato had stopped tasting good somewhere in the middle of all that, but Miri forced herself to finish it just for something to do. Then she threw the cup and tiny spoon into the nearest garbage can. She felt a little heady from the sugar. Why wasn’t Mikey back yet?

  An old woman with a hunchback limped past. Miri reflexively started to ask the woman if she could help her, but stopped just before the words came out of her mouth. This was the big city, she reminded herself. People just didn’t do things like that. It made her a little sad, but if she did approach the old woman, the old woman would be offended. Aaron had given her that piece of advice, after he’d offered to help an old man across the street and had been whacked with the old man’s cane.

  A man with a black hat pulled down over his face came racing past, grabbed the old woman’s purse, and ran. Miri and the old woman screamed at the same time. “Help! Help! He stole my purse!” the old woman cried. Bystanders stopped to stare, but no one moved. “Help,” the old woman pleaded.

  Miri stood frozen. The man was already gone, and so was the woman’s purse, but she couldn’t hold back the rush of guilt that insisted she should have done more. She started shaking.

  Mikey raced back to her side. “Are you okay?” he demanded, searching her face. She managed to nod. He touched her cheek. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  A police officer strode toward the old woman, so at least Miri wasn’t leaving her completely alone. Still, she felt terrible, shaken to her core.

  Suddenly all she wanted was to be back in her parents’ house, snug in her mamm’s kitchen. She knew exactly what her mamm would do, too. She would heat water in the kettle and pour it over a mug of fragrant tea leaves. It would be a calming brew, a tonic for the nerves. Then she would cut a thick slice of bread fresh out of the oven and slather it with homemade mixed berry preserves and would put it on a saucer for Miri. She’d stroke Miri’s hand and remind her nothing was too big for God to handle, and this was why they lived the life they did. With the Ordnung, the world came a little more into control.

  Much more control than people seemed to have in New York City. Miri couldn’t tear her gaze from the old woman and the police officer. She craned her neck to watch as Mikey guided her away.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Mikey said when they were what Miri guessed had to be halfway across the park. They sat down on a big rock, and he took her hand again. “Unfortunately, not everyone here is as honest as you are.” With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, “Welcome to New York!”

  Despite herself, Miri chuckled. It came out weak and uncertain, but it was a laugh, nonetheless. Mikey grinned. “That’s what I want to see!” He squeezed her hand. “We’re going to have such a good time tonight. My friends will love you, and I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

  Miri had a feeling that if she weren’t left so drained by what had just happened, she would be nervous. Probably she’d be nervous later that night, when it was time for the party. But for now, she was just tired. She even allowed herself to relax against Mikey’s side. Dear God, she prayed, please take care of that woman. And of Mikey.

  And of me.

  * * *

  Hannah smiled at her friends Karen and Melinda. “It’s so nice to have you here.” She reached out across the table and pressed both their hands. The three of them sat at Hannah’s kitchen table, drinking cups of hot, fragrant tea and nibbling on freshly baked lemon bars.

  Karen had just been commenting on the box of Englischer lemon bars someone had brought her the day before from outside and how absolutely terrible they were. They tasted nothing like lemons, and the few bites she’d managed to force down out of politeness had made her sick to her stomach. She was only just now feeling like herself again. “These,” she said dramatically, holding one of Hannah’s cookies aloft, “now these taste like lemons. Real lemons for real cookies. Imagine!”

  “If that’s how Englischers eat,” Hannah observed, “I don’t know how they aren’t suffering from every disease under God’s great sun. None of that is food!” One of the things that had made her return early from her rumspringa was the toxic waste that passed as nourishment among the Englischers. What amazed her was how they relished in it, gorging on way more than a body needed or should.

  “You said it!” Melinda shook her head. “Well, though your lemon bars are almost sinfully good, that’s actually not why we paid you a visit on this fine day.”

  “Oh?” asked Hannah, mildly intrigued. She helped herself to another sip of tea and another bite of cookie. Truly, English chemicals had nothing on the fruits grown from God’s earth and sunlight. On some level, the Englischers must have known it, too, because her goods always sold out early at the Saturday market, week after week. She almost couldn’t bake fast enough to keep up with demand. On some level, everyone knew they needed a direct connection to nature, not something trumped up in a lab.

  Dear God, please let all my children realize this, too, and come home where they belong.

  “That’s right,” Karen said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “We came to find out your plans for this year’s quilting bee! You’re not going to let that uppity Janet King win, are you?”

  Ja
net King. Hannah’s hackles rose. She tried hard not to be prideful, to live in accordance with the Ordnung and its principles, but she simply could not stand that woman. Jacob King’s aunt—one more reason Annie had better be smart and not stir up trouble with that boy—was the most arrogant Plain person Hannah had ever encountered. She was an extremely gifted quilter, and she knew it, holding her nose high in the air and letting the fact that she’d won the last five quilting bee competitions drop in every single conversation she ever had. Hannah didn’t begrudge her the wins—she knew she herself was quite the fine quilter, yet her true skill lay in baking—but she could not abide the self-satisfaction. They were to live humbly, but Janet King didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word.

  She was also an incurable gossip. Keeping her face calm, Hannah prayed that no one else knew about Annie’s tryst with Jacob. If Janet caught wind of it, the whole community would know within an hour, and Annie’s reputation would be shattered forever. Never mind her engagement to Stephen.

  “That’s a thought, let her win.” Hannah laughed. “I’d certainly like to make winning a little more of a challenge for her, if you catch my meaning.”

  Both Karen and Melinda grinned. “That sounds reasonable enough,” Melinda said. “She’s been walking around boasting what a catch her beloved nephew is, how he’s handsome and skilled enough to make the best of matches, how no one is good enough for him. I’m really surprised the deacon hasn’t spoken to her about it yet.”

  Hannah froze. Her beloved nephew. What would Janet do if she found out Jacob and Annie had kissed?

  “I know, so prideful!” said Karen, misreading Hannah’s expression.

  “Well,” Hannah forced herself to say, “while we can hope the deacon approaches her about it, ultimately her arrogance is a matter between God and her.” Karen and Melinda looked disappointed. “In the meantime, however, no one can stop me from finishing my quilt and entering it in the competition!”

  “The quilt?” Karen asked, her voice hushed.

  “The quilt,” Hannah agreed. She’d been working on her masterpiece for five years now, which was why she had never entered it in the quilting bee before. No one but her two best friends had been allowed to see it until now. But another couple days of work to apply the final stitches, and it would be done. “It should be ready by Friday.”