Naomi's Hope

by Jan Drexler

  “I’ll show you Jethro.” Davey bounced a little when he saw which direction they were headed. “He’s my very own lamb. Have you seen him?”

  Cap shook his head. “I don’t think I have.”

  “He’s the best ram lamb ever, Jacob says. And he’ll be the datti of all of our flock. Memmi—” He stopped and looked up at Cap. “Can I talk about Memmi?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “You frown when I talk about her.”

  Cap rubbed at the creases on his forehead. “I didn’t know I did. It’s nothing.”

  Davey let go of his hand and ran to the sheep pen by the barn. “There he is. There’s Jethro.”

  By the time Cap caught up to him, the boy was in the pen, trying to wrap his arms around the lamb. Jethro butted him and pranced around, as if he recognized Davey and was happy to see him.

  “He does look like he thinks you’re someone special.”

  Davey grinned, his legs wobbling as the lamb rubbed against them. “He’s mine. My very own lamb.”

  “For sure, he is.” Cap leaned on the upper rail of the fence and Davey joined him as Jethro went to his mother and butted at her until she let him feed.

  “I’ve never had something of my very own. Not like him.”

  “You have your memmi, and the rest of your family.”

  “It isn’t the same. Jethro likes me, but he doesn’t have to.”

  Cap tousled his hair. “I like you and I don’t have to.”

  “Ja, but you’re a person. An animal is different.”

  Too late, Cap remembered the pony he had planned to get for Davey. Naomi wouldn’t welcome the gift now. When he and Naomi disagreed yesterday, a rift had opened between them and he didn’t see a possibility of it closing. This was what the Good Book meant when it said that the followers of Christ must leave all behind. If Naomi wasn’t a true believer in Christ, then he must leave her behind, along with his dreams of their future together.

  Davey jiggled his elbow. “Are you and Memmi going to get married?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “Mose and Menno said that their memmi said that you should get married.”

  Mose and Menno. Naomi’s ten- and eight-year-old nephews were too smart for their own good. “Getting married isn’t as simple as that.”

  “But if you married Memmi, then you would be my daed. My real daed, not just pretend.”

  Cap swallowed down the lump in his throat. What he wouldn’t give to have Davey for his son. “Like I said, it isn’t that easy.”

  Davey stared at him, his face solemn. “Once William and I had a fight. He wanted to look for tadpoles in the spring ponds in the woods, but I wanted to look for crayfish chimneys. He yelled at me and I went home. We didn’t talk to each other for three whole days.”

  “I saw you playing with him today.”

  The boy nodded. “That’s what I mean. We had a fight, but we made up, and we’re friends again. That’s what you need to do with Memmi.”

  Cap couldn’t face Davey’s hopeful gaze. “It isn’t that easy.”

  “You keep saying that. But if you don’t, you’ll never be my daed.”

  A glance told Cap that Davey was about to cry. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his face was mottled pink. “It is important to you, isn’t it?”

  Davey blinked fast and hard to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks, but one escaped and ran down to cling to the end of his nose. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Ever since . . .” He swallowed and wiped his sleeve across his face. “Ever since Pa told me to hide in the fireplace.”

  Cap could imagine Davey’s pa, knowing that the storm was bearing down and desperate to save his family, shoving his little son into the only safe place he could find. Had he hoped that Davey’s mother and the baby would join him? He must not have had time to save them before the tornado hit and destroyed the cabin, leaving only the chimney intact . . . with Davey crouched in the fireplace. What had gone through Davey’s head during the hour or so before the Amish families had found the cabin and rescued him?

  Davey took his hand and tugged. “I want my family back. I want Ma and Pa. But I know they aren’t coming back. If you and Memmi get married, then we could be a new family, couldn’t we?” Cap looked away again. “Couldn’t we?”

  Cap put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and drew him close. “I wish I could promise that, but I can’t.”

  20

  After the noon dinner of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh green beans from the various gardens in the neighborhood, Cap rested on the shady porch with Christian, Eli, and the rest of the men. Jacob sat a little apart, but if Cap hadn’t known his sorrow, he would not have guessed anything was amiss other than the usual Sunday afternoon rest.

  Mose Schrock ran up to his father, Isaac. “Yost Bontrager is coming up the road. And he’s in an awful hurry.”

  His brother, Menno, on his brother’s heels as usual, echoed the end of the sentence. “He’s in an awful hurry.”

  The porchful of men turned their faces toward the road as the boys, joined by Davey and the others, ran to meet Yost. Christian struggled to his feet, using a cane to steady his balance.

  “What could bring Yost all the way over here on a non-church Sunday, and without his family?”

  Eli joined him at the edge of the porch. “We’ll soon know.”

  Cap stood, too, and watched Yost’s progress. The tall man was all angles and swinging hair as he strode up to the porch from the road. With the Bontragers living in Clinton Township, Cap hadn’t spent much time with Yost, but knew he had been in the same party with the Schrocks and Yoders when they came from Pennsylvania.

  “Good afternoon, Yost,” Christian said.

  Yost stopped in front of the group of men, breathing hard. “Good . . . afternoon.”

  Annalise brought him a glass of water and he made his way onto the porch, sitting in the chair Cap had vacated. Yost took a large handkerchief out of his coat and wiped his face. He took another drink and sat back as the group of men gathered around him. The women at the other end of the porch stopped their conversation and looked his way.

  “Is anything wrong?” Christian eased into a chair next to his friend.

  “I’ll say.” Yost drained his glass and Annalise filled it again. “You won’t believe what happened in Clinton Township this morning.” He shook his head. “They didn’t give any warning at all. They just did it.”

  “Did what?” Eli pressed closer.

  “Voted to form their own church district, that’s what.”

  “How?” Christian leaned toward Yost. “Why? Did they say?”

  Cap shook his head. It couldn’t be true. Yost must have misunderstood.

  “Since today is a non-church Sunday, we were having a quiet time together, just our family.”

  The men gathered around nodded. They had all started their Sunday mornings in the same way.

  “But then at midmorning, Peter Gingerich, the boy, came by and said the community was meeting in his father’s barn, and we were to come along. By the time we got there, they had already voted to form their own district. They said they were waiting for our votes to make it official, but I could tell which way the wind blew.”

  Stunned silence filled the porch.

  “Was Shem Fischer there?” Cap knew the self-proclaimed preacher must be at the bottom of this.

  Yost shook his head. “I thought that was strange. He’s always in the middle of things. But his wife was there, and said she spoke for him.”

  Cap rubbed at the back of his neck. He had seen Priscilla Fischer at church last Sunday. She certainly seemed to be willing to speak for Shem, although the man had never had any problem making his own views heard.

  Jonas Plank, Solomon Plank’s twenty-four-year-old son, looked from Christian’s face to Preacher Abraham’s. “Can they do that? Vote to form their own district like that?”

  Isaac Schrock’s face was red. “We can’t let t
hem. We must stay together.”

  “What can we do to stop them? They’ve been working to destroy the church, and they have. I say we let them go their own way.” Elias Hertzler crossed his arms and turned away from the group.

  Then Josef Bender stood, his fists clenched. “I say we go talk to them. They are trying to make a mark of division where there should never be one.”

  Solomon Plank shook his head. “Let them go. If they don’t want us, then we don’t want them either. Let them go their own way and leave us be.”

  “Brothers. Friends.” Christian looked tired. “It is the Sabbath, but ill will is working its insidious way into our hearts. This is a time to mourn, not fight.”

  Preacher Abraham nodded his agreement. “It is a sad day. We are torn in two.”

  Christian looked from face to face as the tension eased, and then back at Yost. “Did they say why they would take a step like this?”

  “They said they live too far from LaGrange County, and that, well . . . ,” Yost looked at the group gathered around him, “they said you were all stuck in the old ways. ‘Afraid of progress’ is how Tall Peter said it.”

  Christian tapped his cane on the floor in an absent motion, and Preacher Abraham stroked his beard just as absently, both deep in thought. The rest of the group waited for their response.

  Finally, Abraham spoke. “If they want to remove themselves from our fellowship, there isn’t much we can do or say to stop them.”

  Christian turned toward him. “But if there is a way to repair the breach, we must look for it and do what we can.”

  “I agree.” Abraham settled back in his chair. “I will go to talk to the leaders, to Tall Peter and Preacher Elam. Will you go with me, Preacher Christian?”

  “I will. But I ask that we pray for guidance and direction.”

  Preacher Abraham went to his knees, and all of the group who were able followed him. Cap dared to glance at Naomi, but she knelt in prayer with the rest of them just as she always had. Perhaps, he prayed, he had been mistaken. Perhaps her faith was as strong as his. Perhaps there was a way to span this rift between them and between the two halves of the church district.

  The discussion about the threatened church split continued through the rest of the noon meal. Cap listened as he gathered plates from the men and took them to the shady table that had been set up for the women to do dishes. Naomi was helping, scraping the plates and stacking them, ready to be washed. She kept her gaze on her work, even when he set his pile of dishes at her elbow.

  “I’d like to talk to you.”

  He kept his voice soft, hoping to avoid the notice of the other women, but the conversation around them slowed. Every ear waited for Naomi’s answer.

  Magdalena Hertzler took the spatula from Naomi’s hand and shooed her away. “Go on, Naomi. Don’t worry about the dishes.”

  Naomi still didn’t look at him as she surrendered her job to Magdalena and followed Cap away from the crowd. He led her to the other side of Annalise’s garden where the trees of the woods on the west side of the clearing cast afternoon shade in the still air.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Naomi plucked a leaf from a sassafras branch and tore one of the three lobes from it with a careful motion.

  “I hoped we could . . .” His voice faltered at her icy demeanor. He glanced across the big clearing to the group of boys playing near the barn. He could face her for Davey’s sake. He started again. “I hoped we could go back to being friends. I spoke without thinking yesterday, and I’m sorry.”

  Naomi tore another strip off the leaf. “I know that would make Davey happy.”

  Cap suppressed a sigh. She would mend their friendship for Davey, but not for him. And not because it would please God, not because it was the right thing to do.

  “He thinks we’re having a fight, like he had with William. He wants us to make up.” Cap plucked his own fragrant leaf from the shrub and twirled the woody stem between his fingers.

  “We didn’t fight, did we?”

  Cap shrugged. “That’s how he sees it.” He dared to look at her. “There’s more.” He waited for her to meet his eyes before he continued. “He longs for a family.”

  She threw the shredded leaf to the ground. “He has a family.”

  “He wants a mamm and daed. He wants what his friends and cousins have.” Naomi bit her bottom lip, but Cap went on. “Now that he remembers his first family, his ma and pa, he longs to have that life again.” He stepped closer to Naomi and grasped her shoulders. They were hard and tight with tension. “And he thinks if we get married, he’ll have that.”

  She looked at him then, both eyes focused on his. “Married? What gave him that idea?”

  Cap tried to smile as he felt the tension drain from her arms. “It isn’t such a bad thought, is it?”

  Her face grew pink and she turned away from him, out of his grasp. The children’s laughter drifted toward them in the sultry air. Her back was straight, and her skirt hung in gentle curves that moved as her body shook. He reached one hand toward her shoulder, but thought better of it. He had made her cry, just by suggesting they might marry.

  “Naomi, don’t cry.” He waited for the shaking to stop, but she sunk to the ground, sobbing . . . or was she laughing?

  He grasped both of her shoulders again and turned her toward him. She was laughing, with tears streaming down her face.

  “I’ve never—” She gasped and wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron. “I’ve never seen such a look on a man’s face.” She knelt in the grass, trying to catch her breath, but burst out laughing again.

  He should be insulted, the way she was giggling at him, but instead, he found himself smiling, and then laughing with her. He sat in the grass beside her.

  “I’m not really that funny.”

  She looked at him and snorted with laughter all over again. “You . . . you looked like you were afraid I would think you were serious.” She got her laughter under control. “You looked like a startled deer, afraid you had been caught by the hunter.”

  Cap pulled a grass stem and stuck the soft end between his teeth. He chewed it slowly while her giggles faded. “I meant what I said.” He threw the grass away and took her hand. “We could get married.”

  Her smile faded. “Yesterday . . .”

  “Yesterday I was worried about Jacob and Mattie. I was worried about your casual attitude toward God.” He looked at their hands entwined together. “Later, I realized that if I ever have to go through something like Jacob is going through again, I’d want you to be there with me.” He looked into her eyes. “You are part of my life, Naomi. I want you to think about marrying me. Just think about it. We can talk about what it will mean for us, and for Davey.”

  Naomi gave a slow nod. “I’ll think about it.”

  A shout went up from the house. A covered wagon was coming along the narrow road, dust in its wake. As it stopped by the house, folks poured off of the porch, and Cap and Naomi went to join them.

  Shem Fischer jumped off the wagon seat and faced the group. His gaze swept the crowd and stopped when he met Cap’s eyes. He smiled the smile Cap had dreaded as a boy. Shem was planning something.

  “Is Davey Schrock—” Shem stopped himself and grinned. “Is Davey Muller here?”

  Davey was pulled and pushed through the group until he faced Shem. Naomi threaded through the crowd until she stood behind him and Cap followed.

  Cap’s teeth ground together. He kept his voice low so that it wouldn’t carry. “What are you doing, Shem?”

  Shem ignored him and stepped aside as two strangers jumped down from the wagon seat, a man and a woman. Then a tumble of children spilled out of the back of the covered wagon, each of them as blond and blue-eyed as Davey. They stood in a silent line and stared at Davey. The woman wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

  “This is Wilhelm and Greta Hinklemann. I met them and their family when I was on my way to Fort Wayne to get supplies. They said they were looking fo
r their lost nephew—”

  Naomi gasped and Cap gripped her shoulder.

  Shem grinned, looking from the strangers to Davey. “They said his name was Davey Muller. So I told them they should come and see if our Davey was the same boy they have been searching for.”

  Davey took a step forward, staring at the couple. “You have been looking for me?”

  The man dropped to one knee in front of the boy, searching his face. “Ja, for months now. Ever since we reached the Muller place in Steuben County and found the grave markers, and saw that yours was missing.” The man gestured toward his wife. “Your mama was my wife’s sister, rest her soul.”

  Shem beckoned to the smallest child in the family, a boy about Davey’s age, and stood him next to Davey. The man shook his head in disbelief. “Would you look at that. They could be twins.”

  Shem turned the boys to face Naomi and the community grouped behind her. Cap’s jaw ached from clenching it. The boys looked as alike as if they were brothers.

  Naomi’s shock had turned to anger as quickly as it took for Daed to invite the strangers to camp at their farm. As if that woman could really be Davey’s aunt . . . but there was no denying the resemblance between the boys.

  Cap’s hand rested on her shoulder and she leaned into it as Daed gave the strange man—Hinklemann—directions to their farm. “I’ll be coming along behind you and show you where you can set up your camp.”

  Mattie found her way to Naomi’s side and clasped her hand. “Are you all right?”

  Ne, she wasn’t. She would never be all right again. But she nodded, even though her head felt like it was wrapped in wool batting.

  “I never thought that Davey might have relatives,” Mattie said. “Do you think they only want to get to know him, or—”

  “Don’t.” Naomi forced the word out through clenched jaws. “Don’t say it. They will stay for a day and then leave, and we’ll never have to worry about them again.”

  Cap’s hand on her shoulder tightened. Beyond Mattie was Davey, climbing onto the wagon seat with the Hinklemann family.