“Perhaps,” Deacon Ray admitted. “But you cannot require this of her.”
Yost went back to scratching his beard.
“It’s not like she will have much of a wedding anyway,” Yost finally said. “She has no parents in the community to give her one. So I think it would be worth asking her if she will do this. Would that not ease your mind greatly?”
“Yah, it would,” Deacon Ray said. “This is a grave matter of concern to the church. And if this causes further disunity amongst us, then you know where that could lead.”
Yost’s face brightened. “Then I may speak with Menno? You are agreeing to this?”
“Yah,” Deacon Ray allowed. “And may Da Hah give you an answer of peace. Perhaps if all goes well, this may bring peace for all of us.”
“I will go then.” Yost turned to walk toward his buggy. He untied his horse, climbing into the buggy even as he slapped the reins against his horse’s back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Teresa was holding baby Samuel on the couch, tracing her finger across his cheek until a broad smile broke over his face. Mamm watched from her rocker, finally laying aside the weekly copy of The Budget she was reading to get to her feet.
“I’ll hold him for a bit,” Mamm offered. “That is, if you want to do something yet before bedtime. We’ve worked you pretty hard today, and now the baby wants your attention.”
“I feel all tired and happy at the same time, so don’t worry about the work,” Teresa said as she handed over Samuel. “But perhaps I could walk outside. The stars are so beautiful. We don’t get much of a chance to see them this way in the city.”
“I’ll come with you,” Susan said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. She took their coats out of the front closet, slipped hers on, and handed the other one to Teresa.
As they stepped outside, Susan took in the sweep of the sky. “It’s so beautiful.”
“The stars are so bright and twinkling,” Teresa said. “Can we see them even better away from the house?”
“You can see more of them, but they don’t get much brighter,” Susan said, following Teresa across the lawn.
“Is that a star over there toward the road?” Teresa asked, pointing.
Susan laughed. “That’s a buggy coming. Probably some boy out snooping around where he shouldn’t.”
“Perhaps it’s that boyfriend of yours coming to see you,” Teresa suggested. “Should I go back inside so you can speak with him in private?”
“Stay right where you are!” Susan ordered. “Thomas doesn’t have that much nerve. And if he does, I want you with me to help throw cold water on his plans.”
“I can’t do that.” Teresa giggled. “I don’t know how to speak with Amish men.”
“They talk like everyone else,” Susan said. “So don’t worry about that. They can understand you.”
Standing still in the yard, the two watched the approaching lights. Soon the sound of horse hooves in the gravel reached their ears. Susan took Teresa’s hand and pulled her toward the barn. “Let’s hide in case the buggy pulls in here.”
“I’m not hiding,” Teresa said, standing firm. “You think it’s about me, don’t you? Well, if it is, there’s no sense in making it worse by hiding.”
“The buggy is coming to our house. There’s no time to hide anyway.”
“Then we’ll meet what comes out in the open,” Teresa said.
They waited as the buggy clattered into the lane and came to a stop near them. The door slid open. The interior was too dark to see the occupant. The horse snorted. “It’s not Thomas or Deacon Ray,” Susan whispered. “I don’t recognize the horse.”
“Gut evening,” a man’s voice said from the buggy.
“Gut evening,” Susan replied.
Teresa said nothing but pulled her coat tightly around herself.
A man’s pant leg came out of the buggy, followed by the rest of him, his back turned to them while he climbed down the steps. He turned, his bearded face now visible in the dim buggy lights.
“Yost Byler! What brings you here this late?” Susan asked in surprise.
Yost blinked several times. “I wish to speak with your daett,” he said. “Would he be in the house?”
“Yah,” Susan said. “Shall I tell him you’re here?”
“That would be gut,” he said. “I will wait for him here.”
“Come on, Teresa.” Susan turned to go and pulled on Teresa’s hand.
“He wouldn’t even look at me,” Teresa whispered on the way to the house. “He must be very ashamed of me.”
“That’s Yost for you,” Susan said. “He doesn’t know his way around women. He barely speaks to me, let alone to an Englisha. You probably scare him half to death.”
“He didn’t look scared,” Teresa said. “I thought you said the other day this fellow was old.”
“Well, he is old.”
“He didn’t look that old,” Teresa protested.
“That’s because it’s dark, and you can’t see anything well,” Susan said.
“So how old is he?” Teresa asked.
“Oh, about forty or so. I don’t know for sure. Just old.”
Teresa laughed. “I guess that is old for us young women. What do you think he wants?”
“I have no idea,” Susan said, holding the front door open until Teresa was inside.
“Who’s out there?” Mamm asked, looking up from the rocker.
“Yost Byler,” Susan said. “He wants to speak with Daett.”
“Yost?” Daett looked puzzled, but he got to his feet, dropping The Budget he was reading on the floor.
“He’s outside waiting for you,” Susan said.
“I’ll go see what he wants then,” Daett said. “I can’t imagine what it could be.”
Susan opened the door for her daett after he pulled on his work coat. She shut it behind him, glancing out the living room window after him. Turning toward Teresa, she shook her head and went into the kitchen. Moments later she was back, standing in front of Mamm with her hands on her hips. “I don’t like this one bit!” she announced.
“Like what?” Mamm asked, not looking up.
“Yost Byler out there talking with Daett,” Susan said.
“I’m sure it’s nothing serious, Susan,” Mamm said. “Maybe he wants to borrow something.”
“At this hour of the night? I don’t think so,” Susan said. “I’m afraid it has something to do with Teresa.”
“With me? The man wouldn’t even look at me. I’m sure he’s glad I didn’t say anything to him so he wouldn’t have to lower himself to talk with the likes of me,” Teresa stated.
“Teresa, please!” Mamm said. “I know people are being hard on you, but it’s our way of dealing with problems. It’s not meant to harm you.”
“I know that’s what I am—a problem,” Teresa said. “And I’m sorry for the way I’ve lived my life, but I didn’t know any better. I really am trying to live right now. That should make a difference.”
“We know that,” Mamm assured her. “And somehow it will work out. It always does in Da Hah’s own gut time.”
“I still don’t like it,” Susan said. “Look how long they’re out there talking. Yost can’t have that much to say.”
Mamm got to her feet and looked out of the window. “It does seem a little strange,” she admitted.
“Daett’s coming in now,” Susan announced moments later. She opened the front door and paused to watch Yost’s buggy go past, its dim lights moving toward the road.
“So what did he want?” Mamm asked as soon as Menno appeared in the doorway and pulled off his coat.
“Perhaps we should speak in private,” Menno said, his face troubled.
“It’s about Teresa, isn’t it?” Susan asked.
“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Mamm reprimanded. “We all want what is best for Teresa.”
Teresa got to her feet with Samuel in her arms. She spoke in a choked voice. “Apparently the man
has some complaint about me, and I’m very sorry about this. I certainly didn’t plan to cause so much trouble for you folks. I’m going up to my room now, and if there is anything I can make right, please let me know.”
“You had better stay,” Menno said, choosing to sit in his rocker. “The man has no complaint against you.”
“Then what did he want?” Susan asked.
“Susan!” Mamm said. “I don’t like that tone of voice. He may be Yost Byler, but you will still speak respectfully of him and be respectful of your daett.”
“He wanted to ask for Teresa’s hand in marriage,” Menno said. “After she is baptized, of course. He has already spoken with Deacon Ray. It seems the ministers would allow Teresa to attend church if they knew there was such an arrangement. And Yost is suggesting the wedding be the same day as the baptism. That is, if Teresa agrees. Yost is willing to wait a bit for an answer.”
“Yost Byler!” Susan shrieked. “The nerve of that man!”
“Susan!” Mamm said again. “Please. Your daett is not finished speaking.”
“Surely you don’t approve of this plan, Daett?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know what to think,” her daett said. “And it really isn’t up to me. I’m only passing on the offer. Teresa will have to decide.”
“Teresa has already decided,” Susan said. “She’s having nothing to do with Yost. That man’s house is a disaster. He hasn’t worn a washed pair of pants for years. He can’t find an Amish wife high or low, and now he wants to pick up a helpless Englisha who can’t do anything about her situation.”
“Susan!” Mamm scolded. “Teresa is not helpless. She can speak for herself.”
“So what do you say?” Susan asked, turning toward a white-faced Teresa, who was staring wide-eyed at the wall. “Please tell them you will have nothing to do with this.”
“Teresa,” Mamm said gently, jumping to her feet and taking Samuel from Teresa’s arms with one hand. With the other she helped Teresa to the couch. “Oh my, we have scared the poor girl half to death with this talk. I’m so sorry, Teresa. I should have spoken with Menno alone as he suggested.”
“The man is willing to marry me?” Teresa squeaked.
“It’s not going to happen,” Susan insisted, sitting down and taking Teresa’s hand in hers. “Believe me, it’s not going to happen. This is the sick idea of a sick old man who has nothing to think about but sick thoughts.”
“He wants to marry me?” Teresa broke into hysterical laughter.
Mamm quickly placed Samuel on the blanket on the floor, grabbed Teresa’s other hand, and felt her forehead.
“Teresa,” Susan whispered, “he’s not going to marry you.”
“The shock has driven the girl out of her mind,” Mamm said.
Susan stroked Teresa’s hand as Mamm rushed into the kitchen, coming back with a cold cloth that she immediately pressed to Teresa’s forehead.
“It’s the perfect solution!” Teresa muttered, little streams of water from the cloth running down her cheeks. “Samuel would have a father, and the Amish community would accept me.”
“You’re not doing it,” Susan whispered. “Never!”
“I will do it!” Teresa sat up straight. “Of course I’ll do it. This is the only chance I’ll ever get, and I can’t pass it up.”
“Menno! Please help us here,” Mamm said.
Menno shook his head and spoke, his voice strained. “I haven’t seen such a thing in all my life,” he said. “The people aren’t understanding Teresa at all or considering what she wants to do. And there seems no way to convince them.”
“See?” Teresa said to Susan. “He agrees with me.”
“I didn’t say that,” Menno corrected.
“But this is all I deserve,” Teresa said. “He’s a man and I’m a woman, so what difference does it make if we marry? Samuel will have an Amish father. This Yost man isn’t mean, is he? He won’t abuse me?”
“Nee,” Mamm said. “I doubt if he would do that.”
“Please, Teresa,” Susan pleaded. “Think about this for a while. You don’t even know him.”
“I’ve seen him outside this evening, haven’t I?” Teresa asked.
“But that was in the dark,” Susan said. “You haven’t seen him in the daylight.”
“But… he wasn’t awful,” Teresa said. “And he’ll make a good father for Samuel, right?”
“Oh, this is awful!” Susan moaned. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Look,” Teresa said, “remember how wrong you were in Asbury Park about me wanting to join the Amish? You never thought it would come this far, did you? And remember how ignorant I was of all the problems ahead of me? And yet God placed a great desire in my heart to join your people and find peace among them. Now here I am, and God is again supplying a way through the hard times. Sure, I don’t love the man yet, but I can learn to love him. Look, Susan. I’ll clean his house. I’ll cook for him. Oh, I know I’m not as good at it as Amish women are, but it sounds as if he doesn’t have much now anyway. So what is there to lose?”
“There’s more to marriage than cooking and cleaning,” Susan said.
“I already know something about that,” Teresa said, looking over to Samuel.
“You deserve better than Yost,” Susan said. “Much better.”
Mamm cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should allow Teresa to make her own choice on this matter,” she said. “If Teresa does agree to this, she can attend church and start the instruction class for baptism. If she changes her mind before her baptism, she is free to leave.”
“I like that plan,” Teresa said. “Can you give this Yost my answer at once?” she asked, looking at Anna and then at Menno.
Mamm shrugged and looked over at her husband. “You will tell Deacon Ray about Teresa’s answer?” she asked.
He nodded.
A flood of relief crossed Teresa’s face. “Does that mean I get to go to church on Sunday?”
“Does it?” Mamm looked to Menno again.
“I believe it does,” he replied. “Yost can then come over for a proper introduction to Teresa whenever he wishes.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The late Saturday night snowstorm blew squalls against the window of the old farmhouse, driving in through the cracks between the windowpanes and dusting the sill with a coating of white. Menno stirred in bed, still wide awake, listening to the steady, even breathing of Anna beside him. Cautiously he swung his stocking-clad feet out from under the covers. He pulled his pants on over his long johns. Who would have thought things with Teresa would take such a turn? he mused.
Tiptoeing into the living room with his flashlight, he held a hand over the lens to keep the light dim. He found the basement stairs and made his way down, the treads creaking at each step. At the bottom, he took his hands off the flashlight lens, opened the furnace door, and added a fresh supply of wood.
When he was done, he stood erect, listening. The soft swish of snow against the basement window drew his attention. He walked over to check the latch. It turned a little tighter under the steady pressure of his fingers. Moving back up the stairs, he closed the basement door, and turned off the flashlight. With his hand held out in front of him, he found his way into the living room and sat on the couch.
Menno’s eyes followed the shadowy movements of the snow squalls racing across the front window glass. This was Yost Byler’s fault really. If he had kept his wild, harebrained idea to himself, things would never have come to this. But then how long would the community have tolerated the presence of Teresa?
It was hard to tell, because already whispers had begun here and there. Little suggestions that perhaps the ministers were being too harsh. So now thankfully Teresa would be in church this Sunday and the matter would be resolved as far as the community was concerned. Word would move among the people about the agreement between Yost Byler and the Englisha girl. Some would be concerned, others would perhaps wish it wasn’t so, but when th
ey heard that Teresa had agreed on her own free will, hopefully they would see the wisdom of the matter.
Menno sighed, moving to the other end of the couch closer to the warm heat rising from the floor register. Why was he so troubled then? Standing to his feet, he paced the floor in the darkness. Because it wasn’t right somehow.
He shivered and sat down on the couch again. This pacing had to stop, before his foot hit a piece of furniture, and he awakened the whole house.
What if Teresa really didn’t want to marry Yost? That was what bothered him. And who deserved Yost? Certainly not a young Englisha girl who figured she had no other options.
Hadn’t he been given another chance by Da Hah after his great sin? Were there not decent children in the community who called him Daett? Were there not grandchildren who sat on his lap, enjoying his attention? Why should he be so blessed and yet now help others in condemning another who had sinned like he had to a marriage with Yost Byler?
Should he speak up and object? And even if he did, it still wouldn’t bring a halt to this. He would only cause trouble for himself. And was this marriage a bad thing, really? Perhaps Teresa would have a happy life with Yost. He was after all a gut man at heart, and would take care of her.
Menno stood and began to pace again. In his mind’s eye he saw the face from his past and dug his fingers into his hands. Why was there to be no peace on this matter? And how much worse would this be if she hadn’t lost the child? He would have been a father of an Englisha child, and there would have been no hiding the sin.
He thought of how it would have been. No returning to the community, no fresh start, no young, blushing bride named Anna standing at his side, no children to raise in the faith, and no hope of returning to farm the land he loved. He shuddered. His past must remain buried. It must never be known to anyone. How could he continue living the life he now had if his sin got out? He couldn’t. No mere church confession would repair the damage. Even on his knees in front of the church, his sin would not be forgotten. There might even be excommunication.
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