A Sister's Secret

by Brunstetter, Wanda E. ;

  Cleon stared straight ahead as he clucked to the horse.

  “My daed’s whole family was hurt by this—Dad most of all. I don’t think he’s ever really forgiven her for leaving.”

  “I can understand why he would be hurt. The fact that his sister went English and left the faith would be hard to take.”

  Grace’s pulse pounded in her temples, and she turned her head away so Cleon wouldn’t see her tears.

  They rode along quietly for a while, the only sounds being the steady clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and an occasional whirr of an engine as a car whizzed past. Grace hated keeping her secret from Cleon, but if he felt the way Dad did about an Amish woman marrying an Englisher, no good could come from telling him the truth. He would probably call off the wedding, and Grace loved Cleon too much to jeopardize their relationship. The best thing she could see to do was to continue keeping the painful secret to herself. She could only hope it wouldn’t be revealed by someone else.

  Chapter 16

  Grace could hardly believe her wedding day had finally arrived. Sitting at the kitchen table and drinking a cup of tea, she reflected on the day before. Several of their Amish friends and relatives, some of whom would be table waiters during the wedding meal, had showed up early to help out. The bench wagons from both their home church district and from a neighboring district were brought over to the Hostettlers’ because they would need more seating at the wedding than during a regular Sunday church service. Much of the furniture had been removed from their house and stored in clean outbuildings, while smaller items were placed in the bench wagons after the men had unloaded the benches, unfolded the legs, and arranged them in the house.

  Many hands had prepared the chickens that would be served at the wedding meal as well as mounds of other food items. The four couples assigned as “roast cooks” had divided up the dressed chickens and taken them home to roast in their ovens. Aunt Clara, Mom’s oldest sister, was an excellent baker and had made several batches of doughnuts. Some of the other women had made a variety of cookies, and there were three large, decorated cakes, one of which had been purchased at the bakeshop where Ruth worked.

  “Guder mariye, bride-to-be,” Ruth said as she stepped into the kitchen wearing a smile that stretched ear to ear. “You look like you’re a hundred miles away.”

  “Good morning,” Grace said. “I was just thinking about yesterday and all the help we had getting ready for today.”

  “We sure did.” Ruth moved across the room and pulled out a chair at the table. “How are you feeling this morning? Are you naerfich?”

  “I am a little nervous,” Grace admitted.

  “I’m sure I’ll be nervous when I get married someday, too.” Ruth took a seat beside Grace and reached for the teapot sitting in the middle of the table. “Cleon’s a good man, and I’m glad the two of you will be living here until your house is finished.”

  Grace nodded. “At least our new home is close by so it will be easier for Cleon to work on it when he’s not busy with his bees or helping his daed.”

  “It’s obvious that he loves you, and I think you two will have a good marriage.”

  “I hope we can be as happy as Mom and Dad have been all these years.”

  “I think one of the reasons they have such a good marriage is because they see eye to eye on so many things.” Ruth reached for one of the empty mugs sitting near the teapot and poured herself some tea. “Mom told me once that she believes the most important ingredient in marriage, besides loving the person you’re married to, is honesty.”

  “Honesty?” Grace repeated as a sinking feeling made her stomach feel tied in knots. Years of regret tugged at her heart, and a twinge of guilt whispered to her that she wasn’t worthy to marry Cleon—wasn’t worthy to bear his children.

  “Mom said from the moment she and Dad started courting, she made a promise to herself that she would never intentionally lie or keep secrets from him.”

  Grace inwardly groaned. She was about to begin her marriage to Cleon with a secret between them—one that could change the way he felt about her and could destroy her relationships with her parents and sisters, as well.

  She set her empty mug in the sink and glanced out the kitchen window. It was a cold, crisp day in early December, but at least no snow covered the ground. Her stomach flew up when she noticed several buggies were already lined up in the yard. She knew some of their English friends and neighbors had also arrived because a couple of vans and several cars were parked outside. It wouldn’t be long before the bishop and other ministers arrived, and soon after that, the wedding service would begin. It was too late to tell Cleon her secret. That would have to wait until sometime after they were married, if at all.

  Feeling the need to think about something else, Grace focused on the six teenage boys, known as the “hostlers,” whose job it was to lead the horses into the barn and tie them up. For the next hour or so, those young fellows would be kept plenty busy, and during the afternoon, they would see to it that all the horses were fed.

  “What are you doing in here?” Dad asked, stepping up beside Grace and placing his hand on her shoulder.

  “Oh, just watching the goings-on outside.”

  He chuckled. “There’s a lot of activity out there, all right. I imagine the bishop will be here most any time, so it might be good if you headed to the other room and got ready for the service, don’t you think?”

  Grace nodded and smiled, even though her stomach was still doing little flip-flops. She wanted so much to become Cleon’s wife, yet she was full of apprehension and misgivings.

  “I’m glad you and Cleon will be living nearby,” Dad said. “It would be hard on your mamm if you were to move too far away.”

  Grace wondered if her father was referring to the time she’d been gone during her rumschpringe. She knew how much it had hurt her parents when she’d moved to Cincinnati and not kept in touch. When she returned home two years later without a word of explanation, they hadn’t asked any questions, just welcomed her with open arms. From that day on, Grace had tried to be the perfect daughter, helping out at home without question and adhering to the church rules. Now all she had to do was be a good wife to Cleon, and everything should be fine.

  Glancing down at her dark blue dress draped with a white cape and apron, Grace grew more anxious by the moment as she sat rigidly in her seat. Most of their guests had arrived, including two other ministers, but Bishop King was late, and she was getting worried. What if something had happened to him? What if someone had tried to detain the bishop and his family along the way?

  Her thoughts went to Gary. Would he stoop so low as to try and stop her from marrying Cleon? Did he even know that this was her wedding day? Since he was a reporter, he might have finagled that information from someone in the community.

  “I think I’d better get my horse and buggy and go looking for the bishop,” Deacon Byler announced as he headed for the door.

  “I’ll go with you,” Mose Troyer, one of the ministers, said.

  Grace glanced across the room to where Cleon sat straight and tall, wearing a white shirt, black trousers, and a matching vest and jacket. Did he feel as nervous as she? Was he having second thoughts? His stoic expression gave no indication of what he might be thinking.

  If she’d told him about her previous marriage and everything that had transpired after that, would he have forgiven her for keeping the truth from him? She loved Cleon, but did it really matter if only she knew the details of her rumschpringe days? After all, that was in the past. Shouldn’t it stay that way?

  Grace clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She wished she could quit thinking about this. She had to get ahold of herself, or the entire day would be ruined.

  Since the wedding wouldn’t start until the bishop arrived, everyone left their seats. Some of the women went to the kitchen, some sat in groups around the living room, and most of the men went outside to mill around and visit.

  Half an hour l
ater, the bishop and his family showed up. He offered his apologies for being late, explaining that one of his carriage wheels had fallen off.

  Grace breathed a sigh of relief. At last, the wedding could begin.

  The ceremony, which was similar to a regular Sunday preaching service, began with a song from the Amish hymnal, the Ausbund. Grace did fine during the first part of the song, but as the time drew closer for her and Cleon to meet with the bishop and other ministers for counseling, she became more apprehensive.

  As the people began the third line of the hymn, the ministers stood and made their way up the stairs to a room on the second floor. Grace and Cleon followed, but their attendants—Grace’s sisters and two of Cleon’s brothers—waited downstairs with the others.

  Upstairs in the bedroom that had been set aside for the counseling session, Grace sat in a straight-backed chair, fidgeting with a corner of her apron as she listened to the bishop’s admonitions and instructions on marriage.

  The counseling session consisted of several scripture references and a long dissertation from Bishop King on the importance of good communication, trust, and respect in all areas of marriage. He reminded the couple that divorce was not an acceptable option among those of their faith, and he emphasized the need to work through any problems that might arise in their marriage.

  When Cleon and Grace returned to the main room a short time later, they took their seats again, and the congregation sang another song. The ministers reentered the room during the final verse and also sat down. Next, a message was given by Mose Troyer, followed by a period of silent prayer and the reading of scripture. The bishop rose and began the main sermon.

  Grace glanced over at Cleon, and he flashed her a grin, which helped calm her nerves and offered her the assurance she so desperately needed.

  The bishop called for the bride and groom to stand before him, and Grace joined Cleon at the front of the room. “Brother,” Bishop King said, looking at Cleon, “can you confess that you accept this, our sister, as your wife, and that you will not leave her until death separates you? And do you believe that this is from the Lord and that you have come thus far by your faith and prayers?”

  With no hesitation, Cleon smiled at Grace and answered, “Jah.”

  The bishop then directed his words to Grace. “Can you confess, sister, that you accept this, our brother, as your husband, and that you will not leave him until death separates you? And do you believe that this is from the Lord and that you have come thus far by your faith and prayers?”

  “Jah.”

  The bishop spoke to Cleon again. “Because you have confessed that you want to take this, our sister, for your wife, do you promise to be loyal to her and care for her if she may have adversity, affliction, sickness, or weakness, as is appropriate for a Christian, God-fearing husband?”

  “Jah.”

  The bishop addressed the same question to Grace, and she, too, replied affirmatively. He then took Grace’s hand and placed it in Cleon’s hand, putting his own hands above and beneath theirs. “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you together and give His rich blessing upon you and be merciful to you. To this I wish you the blessings of God for a good beginning, and may you hold out until a blessed end. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.”

  At the end of the blessing, Grace, Cleon, and Bishop King bowed their knees in prayer. “Go forth in the name of the Lord. You are now man and wife,” the bishop said when the prayer was done.

  Grace and Cleon returned to their seats, and one of the ministers gave a testimony, followed by two other ministers expressing agreement with the sermon and wishing Cleon and Grace God’s blessings. When that was done, the bishop made a few closing comments and asked the congregation to kneel, at which time he read a prayer from the prayer book. Then the congregation rose to their feet, and the meeting was closed with a final hymn.

  Grace drew in a deep breath and blinked back tears of joy. In a short time, the wedding feast would begin, and so would her new life as Mrs. Cleon Schrock. Maybe now she could finally leave her past behind.

  As several of the men set up tables for the wedding meal, Cleon reflected on the somber expression he’d seen on his bride’s face as they’d responded to the bishop’s questions during their wedding vows. Grace had taken her vows seriously, which reassured him that everything was as it should be between them.

  Once the tables had been put in place and covered with tablecloths, the eating utensils were set out. Foot traffic was heavy and continuous from the temporary kitchen that had been set up in the basement to the eating areas, which included the living room and upstairs kitchen. Food for all courses was soon placed on the table, beginning with the main course, which included roasted chicken, bread filling, and mashed potatoes. They were also served creamed celery—a traditional wedding dish—coleslaw, applesauce, pies, doughnuts, fruit salad, pudding, bread, butter, jelly, and coffee.

  As soon as everything was ready for the meal, the bridal party made its entrance, beginning with the bride and groom, followed by Ruth, Martha, Ivan, and Willard, entering single file.

  As Cleon and Grace took their seats, she commented about the jars of select celery that had been spaced at regular intervals on each of the tables so the leaves formed a kind of flowerlike arrangement. There were also several bouquets of flowers Ruth had put together.

  “Everything looks real nice,” Cleon said, leaning close to her as they sat at the corner table known as the “Eck.” “You and your family did a fine job decorating for our special day.”

  “Your mamm and sister did well with the candles, too.” Grace touched the tablecloth adorning their corner table where the bride and groom traditionally sat. “This is from my hope chest, and two of the three decorated cakes were contributed by friends.”

  He smiled and licked his lips. “They look real tasty.”

  “The most elaborate cake, we bought from the bakeshop where Ruth works,” she said. “Did you notice what’s written in the center of that cake?”

  Cleon read the words out loud. “Bescht winsche—best wishes, Cleon and Grace.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope we’ll always be this happy.”

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Jah, me, too.”

  Chapter 17

  Grace couldn’t believe she and Cleon had been married a little over two months already, and as she stood in front of the sink one Saturday afternoon, peeling potatoes for the stew they would have for supper, she reflected on how things had been since their wedding day. She and Cleon were enjoying married life and getting along well at her folks’ place, although Grace looked forward to the day when their own house would be done and they could move into it.

  During December and January, they’d had several days of snow, and Cleon had taken time out from his honey deliveries and working on the house in order for them to do some fun things together. They had frolicked in the snow, taken a sleigh ride, sat by the fire sipping hot chocolate, and played board games with the rest of her family.

  Grace felt happier than she had ever dreamed possible, and she was grateful there had been no more attacks on her family. She was certain this was because Gary Walker had left Holmes County. Esther had told her that Gary had come into the restaurant where Grace used to work and mentioned that he was leaving for Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to do some stories on the Amish who lived there. Grace hoped Gary never returned to Ohio.

  Now, if they could just get their house finished, things would be nearly perfect. It wasn’t that she minded living with her folks, but it wasn’t the same as having a place of their own. Grace was anxious to set out her wedding gifts, as well as the things she had in her hope chest. Cleon had said the other day that he hoped the house would be finished in a few months, but since he’d gotten so busy with new honey orders, he’d spent less time working on it.

  Grace had wanted to do some work on the house herself since she’d quit her job at the restaurant as
soon as they were married, but she didn’t know a lot about carpentry. Even if Grace had, Cleon made it clear that building the house was his job, and with the help he got from other family members, including Grace’s father, Grace knew their home would be finished in due time, so she needed to be patient.

  She glanced out the kitchen window and noticed the dismal-looking gray sky. Between that and the drop in temperature, they were sure to have more snow.

  Grace had just finished with the potatoes when she heard a knock on the front door. That’s strange. Hardly anyone we know uses the front door.

  She left the kitchen, hurried through the hall, and opened the door. A tall, middle-aged man wearing a dark green jacket and a pair of earmuffs stood on the porch. He held the hand of a petite little girl whose dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The child wore blue jeans and a puffy pink jacket with a hood, and as she looked up at Grace with a quizzical expression, her clear blue eyes blinked rapidly.

  “Can I help you?” Grace asked, thinking the man had probably stopped to ask for directions like other English tourists did when they got lost.

  He cleared his throat. Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other. “Grace Davis?”

  Her mouth went dry, and she glanced around, relieved that she was alone. She hadn’t been called by that name since—

  “Is this the Hostettler home?”

  She could only nod in reply. Who was this man, and how did he know her previous married name?

  “Are you Grace?”

  She nodded again as she studied him closer. They might have met before, but she couldn’t be sure. Could he have been one of her customers at the restaurant or maybe someone from one of the English-owned stores in town? But if that were so, how did he know her last name used to be Davis?

  Grace glanced at the little girl again. She was certain she’d never met her, yet there was something familiar about the child. “Have … have we met before?” she asked, returning her gaze to the man.