“Say, how did you get that blood on your dress?” Mom asked suddenly, as she stared at the spot on Rachel’s skirt where she’d injured her knee.
“Oh, just scraped my leg a bit,” Rachel replied with a shrug. No point in explaining how it had happened. Mom would probably lecture her about it being unladylike and dangerous to go climbing around in trees.
“Want me to take a look-see?”
“No, it’s nothing. I’m ready to go up and see Anna now.”
“Go on ahead. Maybe you can talk some sense into her about courting Silas.”
Rachel winced, feeling like she’d had a glass of cold water thrown in her face. Surely Mom didn’t mean for her to actually try and convince Anna to let Silas court her. If she did that and was successful in getting Anna to agree to do what Silas wanted, then Rachel knew the chance of him ever deciding to court her would be slim to none.
***
Anna lay on her bed, staring at the plaster ceiling and tumbling things over in her mind. She thought about her encounter with Silas and wondered if somehow Rachel could have been nearby and overheard what they’d said. She wondered, too, why Silas kept pressuring her to let him court her and couldn’t seem to take no for an answer.
Her mind went over the conversation that had gone on at the table during supper, and she realized that her folks would have a conniption if they knew the thoughts that had been going through her head of late.
A soft knock at the door roused Anna from her musings, and she rolled onto her side. “Come in.”
Rachel poked her head into the room. “Mind if I join you for a while?”
Anna motioned her sister into the room. “Why’s Dad have to be so stubborn?” she asked after Rachel had taken a seat on the bed beside her. “Can’t he see there’s a place for some modern things? He’s the reason I got so upset at supper, you know.” A stream of tears trickled down her cheeks, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand.
“People often blame things on the previous generation because there’s only one other choice,” Rachel said in a near whisper.
Anna sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The other choice would be to put the blame on yourself.”
Anna sucked in her protruding lip and blinked several times. “How dare you speak to me that way!”
“It’s true.”
Anna jerked off her head covering and pulled out the pins that held her hair in place; then she began to pace the room with quick, nervous steps.
“Are you unhappy being Amish? Is that the reason you’ve been acting so strange lately?”
Anna released a sigh. “Not unhappy, really, but if I weren’t Amish—”
“But you are Amish, and you should be happy being such.”
“Shouldn’t I have the right to choose how I want to live and with whom?”
Rachel nodded. “Of course you should, but you’re already baptized into the church, and if you were to go against the Ordnung now, you’d be shunned, and that’s a fact.”
Anna sniffed. “Don’t you think I know that, Rachel?” She moved over to the window and stood looking out at the darkening sky. “What’d you come in here for, anyway—to pummel me with a bunch of questions?”
“Of course not. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you alone then.”
“Danki.” Anna released a sigh of relief when she heard the bedroom door click shut. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone her secret yet—not even Rachel, whom she knew she could trust.
***
Silas shielded his eyes from the glare of the morning sun as he strolled through the small village of Bird-in-Hand. He’d come in early today with the intent of speaking to his friend Reuben, who was supposed to be painting a new grocery store in town.
He found Reuben around the back of the supermarket, holding a paintbrush in one hand and a giant oatmeal cookie in the other.
“I see you’re hard at work,” Silas said with a grin.
Reuben chuckled and popped the cookie into his mouth. “I do need to keep up my strength, you know.”
“Jah, I’m sure.”
“What brings you to town so early?” Reuben asked, as he applied a glob of paint to the side of the wooden building.
“I came to see you.”
“So now that you see me, what do you think?”
Silas shook his head. “Always kidding around, aren’t you?”
Reuben’s blue eyes fairly sparkled, and he pulled his fingers through the back of his thick, blond hair, which was growing much too long for any self-respecting Amish man. Silas had to wonder how come his friend wasn’t wearing his straw hat, especially on a day when the sun was already hot as fire. He was about to voice that question when Reuben asked a question of his own.
“You heard any good jokes lately?”
Silas shook his head. “Nope. Have you?”
Reuben nodded but kept right on painting. “My boss told me a real funny one the other day, but I can’t remember it now.”
“How come you don’t give up this painting job and go back to helping your daed on the farm? I’m sure he could use the extra pair of hands.”
“I don’t like farming so much anymore. In fact, I’m thinking about starting a whole new life for myself.”
Silas rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to think of the right thing to say. He had been helping his dad work the land ever since he’d finished his eighth-grade education. That was nine years ago and he was still happy staying at home on the farm. It was hard for him to understand why an Amish man, born and raised on a farm, preferred painting to working the land. But then he guessed everyone had different likes and dislikes.
“So, what’s new with you?”
“Not so much.” Silas shifted from one foot to the other. “Deacon Shemly was at our place yesterday. Said he’d heard some things, and he seemed to be kind of concerned.”
Reuben stopped painting and turned to face Silas. “Things about me?”
Silas nodded. “Are they true?”
“Are what true?”
“Have you been running around with some English fellows?”
Reuben’s brows furrowed. “You planning on telling anyone what I say to you?”
Silas shook his head. “Thought I’d ask, that’s all.”
Reuben grunted. “I haven’t done anything wrong—just going through rumschpringe, same as you did before joining the church. I’m smart enough to know what I’m doing.”
Silas shook his head. “One thing I’ve learned is never to mistake knowledge for wisdom. One might help you make a living, but the other helps you make a life.”
Reuben flicked a fly off the end of his paintbrush. “Let’s just say I’ve learned that we only live once, and until I’m ready to settle down, I aim to have me some fun. I plan on keeping my truck for as long as I can, too.”
Hearing the way his friend was talking put an ache in Silas’s heart, the same way it had when he’d spoken with Anna yesterday. He didn’t understand why some of the young people he knew seemed dissatisfied with the old ways. Well, he might not be able to do much about Reuben, but Anna was another matter. If he could figure out a way to get her thinking straight again, he was determined to do it.
CHAPTER 3
The following morning, Rachel awoke to the soothing sound of roosters crowing in the barnyard. She loved that noise—loved everything about their farm, in fact. She yawned, stretched, and squinted at the ray of sun peeking through a hole in her window shade. Today the family planned to go to the outdoor farmers’ market, where they would sell some of their garden produce as well as a bunch of plants and flowers from Mom and Dad’s greenhouse.
Before Rachel headed down the stairs to help with breakfast, she looked out her bedroom window and saw Dad, Joseph, and Perry out by the buggy shed, getting their larger market buggy ready to go.
; The sweet smell of maple syrup greeted Rachel as she entered the kitchen a few minutes later, and she noticed right away that Mom sat in her wheelchair in front of one of the lower counters, mixing pancake batter. Anna stood in front of the stove, frying sausages and eggs, while Elizabeth was busy setting the table, which held a huge pitcher of fresh maple syrup.
“Guder mariye,” Rachel said cheerfully. “What can I do to help?”
“Good morning to you.” Mom glanced up at Rachel, then back to the pancake batter. “You can go outside and tell the men we’ll be ready with breakfast in about ten minutes.”
Rachel nodded, then made a hasty exit out the kitchen door. Dad and Perry were still busy loading the back of the buggy, while Joseph hitched the brawny horse that would pull it.
“Mom says breakfast will be ready in ten minutes,” Rachel announced.
“You can go get washed up,” Dad said with a nod at Perry.
Rachel’s freckle-faced brother pointed to the boxes of green beans sitting on the grass. “What about those?”
“You stay,” Dad said, nodding toward Rachel, “and you go,” he instructed Perry. “I’ll see to the boxes.”
Perry straightened his twisted suspenders and took off in a run. Looking at his long legs from the back side, Rachel thought he appeared much older than a boy of twelve. From the front, however, Perry’s impish grin and sparkling blue eyes made him look like a child full of life, laughter, and mischief.
Rachel stood quietly beside her father, waiting for him to speak. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and she marveled at how quickly his strong arms loaded the remaining boxes of beans. When the last box was put in place, Dad straightened and faced her. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”
Rachel twisted one corner of her apron and stared at the ground. Her father’s favors usually meant some kind of hard work. “I—I suppose so. What did you have in mind?”
Dad bent down so he was eye level with Rachel. “Well now, I know how close you and Anna have always been. I was hoping you might let your mamm and me know what’s going on with her these days.”
Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. “Fact of the matter is Anna’s been acting mighty strange lately, and we need your help finding out what’s up.”
Rachel wrinkled her nose. Was Dad saying what she thought he was saying? Did he actually want her to spy on her sister? If Dad thought she and Anna were still close, he was sorely mistaken. Here of late, Rachel and Anna didn’t see eye-to-eye on much of anything. Rachel knew if Anna’s talk about learning more of the English ways ever reached Mom and Dad, they would be very concerned. That was obvious by the way Dad had reacted last night when Anna suggested they should modernize some. Rachel didn’t want to be the one to tell them what was going on inside Anna’s stubborn head. Not that she knew all that much. Fact was she wouldn’t have known anything at all if she hadn’t overheard Anna and Silas’s conversation while she was hiding in the tree.
“So what do you say?” Dad asked, scattering Rachel’s thoughts.
She flicked her tongue across her lower lip. “What exactly am I expected to do?”
“To begin with, your mamm’s told me that Anna has a suitor, yet she’s not the least bit interested in being courted by that nice fellow.”
“You must mean Silas Swartley. He’s sweet as molasses on Anna, but she won’t give him the time of day.”
Dad glanced toward the front of the market buggy, where Joseph stood fiddling with the horse’s harness. “Kind of reminds me of your mamm when I was tryin’ to show her how much I cared.”
Rachel listened politely as her father continued. “Sometimes a man shows his feelings in a strange sort of way.” He nodded toward Joseph and chuckled softly. “Now take that big brother of yours—we all know that he’s sweet on Pauline Hostetler, but do you think he’ll do a thing about it? No way! Ever since Pauline returned from Ohio, Joseph’s been making eyes at her, but he won’t make a move to ask her out. That boy’s gonna fool around, and soon some other fellow’s bound to come along and win Pauline’s heart. Then it’ll be too late for my bleed son.”
Rachel knew all about Joseph’s crush on Pauline, as well as his bashful ways. He had been carrying a torch for Pauline ever since Eli Yoder had dropped her flat to marry Laura, the fancy English woman from Minnesota. The fact that Pauline was three years older than Joseph didn’t help things, either. Rachel had to wonder if the age difference bothered Pauline the way it did her brother. It seemed rather strange that the twenty-four-year-old woman still wasn’t married. Either she’d never gotten over Eli, or Pauline simply wasn’t interested in Joseph. He sure wasn’t going to take the initiative; Rachel was sure of that.
“Well, I’m thinkin’ that if anyone can talk to Anna about giving Silas a chance, it would be you,” Dad said, cutting into Rachel’s contemplations one more time. “She needs to know that she’s being foolish for snubbing someone as nice as Silas.”
She swallowed hard. If her father only knew what he was asking of her. It was hard enough to see Silas hanging around Anna all the time. How in the world could Rachel be expected to talk Anna into something she really didn’t want to do? Truth be told, Rachel would just as soon slop the hogs every day for the rest of her life as to tell Anna how stupid she was for snubbing Silas. But she knew her father probably wouldn’t let up until she had agreed to his request.
Rachel let her gaze travel over their orderly farmyard for a few seconds as she thought things through. “Jah, okay. I’ll have a little talk with Anna about Silas,” she finally agreed.
“And you’ll tell us if anything strange is going on with your sister?”
Rachel nodded, feeling worse than the thick scum that would no doubt be covering much of their pond by late August. “Okay, Dad. I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
***
Joseph cringed as Rachel walked away. He hadn’t eavesdropped on purpose, but he couldn’t help hearing part of Dad’s conversation with Rachel. Should he say anything about it—maybe give his thoughts on the whole thing?
He approached his father cautiously, his mind searching for just the right words. “Say, Dad, I caught some of what you were saying to Rachel, and I was wondering if it’s such a good idea for her to be meddling in Anna’s life.”
Dad whirled around. “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”
“Sorry, I just thought—”
“How much of our conversation did you hear, anyway?”
“Just that you were hoping she could talk to Anna about giving Silas the chance to court her.”
Dad nodded. “I said that all right.”
Was that a look of relief he saw on his father’s face? Had he said some things to Rachel that he didn’t want Joseph to hear? If so, what had he said? Could it have been about him?
“I like Silas. He’s a hard worker, and I think he would make Anna a fine husband, don’t you?”
Joseph shrugged. “I suppose. I just don’t think—”
Dad gave his stomach a couple of pats. “I don’t know about you, but my belly’s sure starting to rumble. Let’s go eat, shall we?”
“Jah, okay.” As Joseph followed his father to the house, he wished it had been he who’d been asked to speak with Anna. Rachel and Anna had always been close, and if Rachel started butting into Anna’s business, she might not take so kindly to it. Besides, Joseph and Anna were closer in age, so she might be more apt to listen to him.
***
The farmers’ market where Rachel and her family were heading was eight miles from their farm. Today the trip seemed even longer than usual, and the cramped quarters in the buggy combined with the hot, sticky weather didn’t help much, either. Rachel had felt a bit cross all morning, and now she was even more agitated.
Dad and Mom rode in the front of the buggy, with Elizabeth sitting between them. Two benches in back provided seating for Rachel, Anna, Joseph, and Perry. Behind them, they’d stashed the boxes filled with prod
uce, plants, and fresh-cut flowers. Mom’s wheelchair was scrunched in back, as well.
The temperature was in the nineties, with humidity so high Rachel felt her dress and underclothes sticking to her body like flypaper. When they finally pulled into the parking lot, she was the first one to jump down from the buggy.
Perry tended to the horse, while Joseph and Dad unloaded the boxes and carried them to the spot where they set up their tables. Elizabeth and Rachel followed, with Anna a few feet behind, pushing Mom’s wheelchair over the bumpy terrain.
Everyone scurried around to help set up their tables, and soon the Beachys were open for business. People started buying right away, and whenever they were between customers, Rachel and her siblings were allowed to take turns wandering around the market.
Rachel took a break around noontime and headed for a stand advertising cold cherry cider. A tall, gangly Amish fellow waited on her. Freckles covered his nose, and he looked to be about nineteen or twenty. Rachel didn’t recognize him and figured he must be from another district.
“It’s a mighty hot day, isn’t it?” he asked, giving her a wide grin.
“Jah, it surely is warm.” She handed him some money. “I’d like a glass of cherry cider, please.”
He bent down and removed a jug from the ice chest underneath the table, then poured some of the cider into a paper cup and handed it to Rachel. “Here you go.”
“Danki.”
Rachel drank the cool beverage quickly, then moved on to another table where Nancy Frey, the Amish schoolteacher in their district, sold a variety of pies.
Nancy smiled up at Rachel. “Are you here with your family?”
“Jah. We’re selling produce and lots of flowers and plants from my folks’ greenhouse.” Rachel pointed across the way. “Our tables are over there.”
“I sure hope business is better for you than it has been here. Pies aren’t doing so well today.”
Rachel licked her lips as she studied the pies on Nancy’s table. “Apple-crumb, shoofly, and lemon sponge are all my favorite.”
The Hope Chest Page 3
