A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

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A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 17

by Rosalind Lauer


  He was surrounded by girls. He leaned forward and pulled one into his arms. From here Sadie could see only her bright red fingernails as her hands gripped Frank’s back. The girl was hugging him and … and kissing him, right here in the middle of the room.

  The image stabbed through her.

  Isn’t he my boyfriend?

  Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, Sadie knew she had to get away. She pushed into the crowd, bouncing off people in the hot club, desperate to get away. He’s not your boyfriend, she told herself as she finally spotted the glowing red exit sign. Why did she feel so hurt when in her heart she knew that the Big Love had not come for the two of them?

  It didn’t make sense at all. But lately she had learned that a lot of feelings didn’t make sense.

  The back door of the club loomed ahead, open to the night. Escape. Taped to the wall beside the restroom signs were two more of the Amish Blues flyers. She paused to rip them both from the wall and crumple them in her hands. They landed in the trash as she stepped into the night air. Her emotions raw, she tugged open the back door of Frank’s van, which never locked properly. She folded her arms and sat on the ledge.

  Her world was coming apart … like an egg that had been cracked right through the middle. Frank was in there kissing another girl, a bunch of strangers had just taken her photograph, and Frank had officially named their band Amish Blues, which seemed to take a piece of her life and put it on display in front of Englishers who didn’t understand.

  Maybe that was why she felt so devastated, to see Amish traditions she’d grown up with torn without a care. That hurt, too. Whatever the truth, there was no denying the ache in her soul. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back tears as she stared down at the cobblestone street and two casual leather moccasins came into view. She knew those shoes. Lifting her chin, she locked eyes with him, relieved to see his familiar face and his warm smile.

  Mike Trueherz.

  EIGHTEEN

  It made him feel a little geeky to admit it, but Mike had never been to a club before. Sure, he hung out with his friends all the time. They went out to eat, watched ball games or movies. They played basketball in the park all summer, flag football in the fall. But he’d never had a reason to go into a club before, not until Sadie had mentioned she would be performing tonight. Knowing she would be in the city, he couldn’t let the chance to see her slip away.

  So he headed out after Gran was asleep. At the door he’d paid a five-dollar cover charge to get into the smoky club, and then he didn’t really have a place to sit, so he went to the bar and ordered a beer. Looking around the place, he realized he should have asked Daryl or Austin to come along, because he was sort of out of place on his own here. People came to clubs with their friends. Coming alone was a loser move.

  Still, Mike was trying to step out of his comfort zone these days. His friends had challenged him to look beyond his own concerns, and so far he liked the change in perspective he’d experienced.

  And when the lights came up on the band and Sadie started singing, Mike knew the trip to the tavern was definitely worth the discomfort. Sadie was amazing, and he suspected that she didn’t have a clue about the depth of her talent … or her beauty.

  Framed by her prayer kapp, her heart-shaped face seemed angelic. With prominent cheekbones, a wide, friendly mouth, and creamy skin that some people paid big bucks for, Sadie’s face could have sold magazines if she was to allow her photo to be on a cover. She wasn’t just beautiful; something about those amber eyes and that smile sparked interest. And from the way the shadows caught the curves of her body, it was clear that she was more substantial than most of the girls he knew—thin twigs who would be whisked away by a strong wind. Instead, Sadie seemed solid, inside and out.

  And her voice—he’d known she possessed a gift. But hearing her perform with these skilled musicians playing behind her had clarified the level of her abilities. Sadie King was an artist. He had no idea how she was going to continue to explore her gift and remain in the Amish community, but that, he figured, was a decision to be faced at the end of her rumspringa.

  He’d lost track of her when she disappeared in the crowd, and he was glad to find her out here, glad to find her alone. From their conversations, it had been hard to tell what the deal was between Sadie and the other guy in the band, Frank.

  His moccasins were silent on the pavement as he stopped a few feet in front of her. “Hey, songbird. That was an awesome performance!”

  As soon as she lifted her face he saw the tears shining in her eyes. Ooh. He hated seeing any girl cry, but it was especially difficult to see tough, confident Sadie having a bad moment. Should he ask her about it, or try to distract her?

  It dawned on him that maybe the reason for her tears was Frank. Hmm. “So … I thought it was a great show, but you don’t seem so happy about it.”

  She swiped at one cheek with the back of her hand. “It was a wonderful good show, I think. It’s just … some of the things with the band …” She pressed her lips together, as if clamping down on her emotions.

  Mike winced as more tears welled in her eyes. He sank onto the tailgate of the van beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay to cry,” he said. Yes, it tore at him to see it, but he understood how emotions could run like a wild river that couldn’t be dammed up. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I’m just … disappointed. My friend Frank turned out to be not such a good friend after all.” She sniffed. “Did you see that poster by the door? He put my picture on it, even though I explained so many times that it was wrong.”

  “I didn’t see it, but I know it’s something that’s not done in the Amish community.” Mike frowned. “Maybe he took it down.”

  “Not Frank. He’s probably giving them out at the door right now. And that name … I didn’t want our group to be named after the Amish. Amish Blues. It makes me feel like we’re trying to be something we’re not. Ya, I was born and raised Amish, but Frank doesn’t understand what that means, how it’s about family and customs and faith. About trying to live right by the rules of the Ordnung.” She pressed a hand to one cheek. “And would you listen to me talking about breaking rules? I haven’t been following the faith so closely myself.”

  “How’s that?” Mike asked.

  “You know that performing is not part of Amish life. Folks would think I have hochmut—a bad streak of pride.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what the leaders of our congregation would do if they found out that I was here singing in Englisher clothes. Being around alcohol and smokers. Tara said some of the people in the audience are full of drink.”

  “Alcohol is a real problem for some people.” Mike straightened, letting his arm slip off her shoulders now that Sadie had calmed down. He was glad to have the grace to help her weather the storm in her heart, even if just for the moment.

  “I’ve never had a drop of alcohol,” she said, “but I’ve been in enough clubs to make Bishop Samuel’s toes curl.”

  Mike laughed out loud, and Sadie joined him. It was good to see her smile again. “Well, then, it’s probably a good thing your bishop wasn’t here to see the show.”

  “Ya, but did you see all the photographs people were taking in there? If the bishop ever saw one … it would be the end of my singing, for sure.” She crossed her arms, rubbing her biceps.

  “Yeah. I guess it’s a good thing the bishop isn’t looking for you on YouTube.”

  She clamped her hands over her ears. “The Internet is such a crazy thing! Do you really think someone would put videos of me on YouTube?”

  He shrugged. “We can do a search sometime.”

  She glanced back toward the door of the club, frowning. “Do you remember how you told me you had a double life, between the city and the country? That’s happening to me, too. Sometimes I feel like I’m torn in half.” She ran her fingers down the middle of her forehead and over her face, as if drawing a line down the center of her body. “Half of
me is an Amish girl on the farm. Half of me is a singer in the city.”

  “Split right down the middle?” Mike nodded with understanding. “I get it.” He knew that devastating feeling.

  “Like a baby chick trying to hatch from its shell. The eggshell is splitting in half around me, and I don’t know which way to go.”

  “Sort of a heads-or-tails thing.” Mike rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Makes me think of that poster of a little chick walking with a shell on its head.”

  Sadie frowned. “Something like that. And I still don’t know what I’m to do about it. I keep praying to the Heavenly Father, but so far I don’t know His answer. What does He intend for me? In the Bible it says, ‘Every good and perfect gift is from above.’ God must have given me this voice for a reason, ya? I’m supposed to use it.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense to me.”

  “And, to be honest, I like the feeling of freedom. I don’t care much for the clubs and all, but I do enjoy sharing music with other people. That part of performing is wonderful good. But sometimes I know this music is just silliness. I should be in classes with the church leaders, preparing to be baptized into the faith.” She toyed with a loose string on her prayer kapp. “I don’t know what God wants me to do.”

  “Sometimes the right choice isn’t so clear at first. And you know that chick in the shell, it’s not a matter of choosing one side or the other. The chick has to shed the shell and stand on its own two feet. The time for the shell is over.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “ ‘To everything there is a season.…’ ”

  “ ‘And a time to every purpose under the heaven,’ ” he said, finishing the Bible verse for her. In that moment he realized how much alike they were; though they’d been raised in different cultures and worshipped differently, they believed in the same God, and their minds worked in similar ways.

  Sadie kneaded her hands together. “Well, I suppose it is time that I hatched, ya?”

  Mike liked the way the light of the streetlamp twinkled in her eyes as she stared off into the night. He wished there was more he could do to help her, but the matter was between Sadie and the Lord. “I’m going to pray for you, Sadie.”

  She turned to him, her eyes growing wide as if she’d just discovered something new. “Denki, Mike. I think it was a very good thing that you came here tonight.”

  “Yeah, I’m glad you told me about the gig.” He looked away from her, not wanting to be caught staring at her sparkling eyes, her wide, pink lips. Did she feel the attraction pulling them together, swirling around them like a dust devil? Mike wanted to ask, but it all seemed too new to give it a name, especially after Sadie had just revealed so much about herself to him.

  “I’m glad I got to see you sing,” he said, trying to keep things on level ground. “You really brought down the house with that hymn. It must have felt good.”

  She sucked in a deep breath of night air. “Oh, I had to push for ‘Amazing Grace.’ Frank didn’t want to add a hymn to our playlist, but Tara and Red were on my side. I’m so glad people liked it.”

  “Liked it? They loved it.”

  Staring off in the distance, she smiled. “I’m hoping we’ll get to do more hymns like that. I love singing with harmonies. And you’re the one who showed me the most beautiful harmonies. That day, when you and your friends came to move Remy’s things. When you sang in harmony, the music was so wonderful I felt sure God had given me a new set of ears!”

  Mike laughed softly. Talking with Sadie didn’t give him that tight-shoulder feeling he usually got around girls. He was always self-conscious around girls at school or church, especially when he could feel them watching him. But Sadie didn’t have that vibe. Maybe because she was not pretentious; there was something fresh about seeing the world through her eyes.

  A new perspective.

  And wasn’t that what he was supposed to be open to? A new point of view.

  Without thinking he took her hand, and she lifted her face to his, her eyes questioning, as if to ask what he was thinking. Something like joy bubbled inside him, and he wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed being with her.…

  But that seemed too corny.

  At a loss for a second, he looked down at her hand. “Look at that. Your hand fits in mine perfectly. It’s like finding a piece of a puzzle.”

  Her lips curved softly. “And that’s something I know all about. We always have a puzzle going at the table in our house.”

  He noticed that she hadn’t pulled her hand away. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he hoped that meant something. “You know, if you liked the way my friends sang, you’ll love hearing a real church choir. And at our church, when they add in piano and drums and guitar and bass … it’s awesome. The music just hits you, like a wave washing over you.”

  “It sounds wonderful good.”

  “You should come to my church one Sunday, check it out.”

  “I could never do that. It would be too hard to get from home to the church here in Philly. When I come with the band, Frank gives me a ride.”

  “We can figure that out. I’d be happy to give you a lift. I guess we’d have to leave early Sunday morning. We could have lunch afterward with my grandmother. Now that she’s recovering from the stroke, she could really use the company.” He paused, scratching his head. “Did I just say that? Wow. A hot date with a guy and his granny.”

  Sadie laughed, looking up at him shyly. “Sounds like a very exciting hot date,” she said. “I don’t know how I’d get away, but maybe on a Sunday when there’s no church? That’s every other weekend.”

  “Let’s do it,” Mike said enthusiastically.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  Her hand gave his a small squeeze—the tiniest gesture, but it made his pulse race like a jackhammer. It was all good.

  NINETEEN

  A dazzling reddish-orange dragonfly skittered close, then hovered in the hot, moist air a moment before looping over the water troughs and fence. So much beauty on God’s earth, Sadie thought as she turned back to her task of shoveling dung from the outdoor pen. Early June and this hot already! But Sadie didn’t mind the sweat rolling down her neck and the sun on her back. Sometimes she preferred the good, hard work outside over housework. Out here, no one cared if she sang a tune while she worked, so she belted out the chorus from “Hold Thou My Hand.”

  As she worked and sang, she thought about how Mike had surprised her in many ways.

  In the three days since that gig in Philadelphia, the night that started off so poorly with those mean girls, and losing her boyfriend, Sadie had thought of Mike an awful lot. And was that any wonder, after so many things had changed in a single night?

  When he’d first come upon her, crying out on that dark street, she’d known he was kind to listen to her problems. But as their conversation had gone on, something had sparked to life inside her, like a kerosene lamp lit by a match. By the time she had taken a seat in the van to head home that night, hope was a steady flame inside her. It felt right, knowing that things were over between Frank and her. And to think that bad night would end with finding a true friend like Mike. God had put her on a path that was full of surprises. Mamm used to say that when God closed a door, He always opened a window.

  “Hold thou my hand, and closer, closer draw me,” Sadie sang aloud, so glad God had thrown a window wide open for her. There were still many questions in her heart, but she felt grateful that the Heavenly Father was drawing her closer, like a good shepherd tending his sheep. Mike’s advice had made her feel better about the choice that still baffled her heart. She wasn’t sure where her singing would lead her, but she knew to trust in Gott.

  And Mike was praying for her. It warmed her heart to know he was thinking of her when they weren’t together, though they had talked on the phone every day since that night. She usually called him at night after band practice so that she could be sure her phone battery was charged.

  Sometimes she lingered
with her scooter just outside Red’s garage and talked with her face raised to soak up the beautiful stars in God’s sky. She knew those same stars glistened over Mike, though he’d told her that it was hard to see all the stars when you were in the city.

  She wiped sweat from her brow with the back of a glove as the horses whinnied and stirred—a warning sound. Sadie lifted her head over the butt of her shovel and glanced over the fence. The gray-covered carriage coming down the lane held two men in straw hats. Squinting, she recognized the bishop and one of the preachers, and her high spirits sank like a stone in the pond.

  Why were they here?

  Probably to talk with Remy about her education for baptism. Or maybe they had matters to discuss with Adam. It was her own guilt that made her worry at the sight of them approaching the house, guilt over her double life. Though she wasn’t sinning against God, she knew her activities would be scorned by the church leaders. When she was at home, she was a good Amish girl. She worked hard and helped take care of her family and bowed her head and thanked the Heavenly Father for every meal. But no amount of shoveling muck and scrubbing floors could make up for the places she was going under the cover of darkness. She could say it was all allowed during her rumspringa, but truth be told, she had pressed beyond the limits, venturing far from her family and her faith. And sometimes that made her feel bad inside, like a puckered apple rotting in the grass.

  Pushing down the bad feelings, she returned to her work, though she did notice the activity by the house. Remy came out from the kitchen to greet the men—only two men. Perhaps Deacon John Beiler had been too busy harvesting crops to drop everything at the last minute. Serving as a minister in an Amish community was a lifetime commitment, and all the men in the brethren had to work at least one other job. Gabriel unhitched the horses and led them off to the water trough. That meant that the men intended to stay a bit, which made Sadie that much more curious.

  Down at the house the screen door slammed and Ruthie emerged. “Sadie!” she called as she ran, the skirt of her turquoise dress flapping against her legs.

 

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