Ben, too, reached forward to gently grasp Annie Mae’s arm. “None of the rest of us went with him, either, honey-girl,” he reminded her. “The important thing is that ya saw the problem and got your sibs back amongst folks who’ll take proper care of them. Ya did the right thing.”
Everyone in their tight circle nodded emphatically, yet tears dribbled down Annie Mae’s cheeks. “But when Dat gets back, he’ll—and they don’t have any clothes, or—”
As Bishop Tom stepped into their huddle, Adam could see the gears whirling in the bishop’s mind. “I’m thinkin’ the Zooks surely must have some pants, shirts, and dresses from when their youngest kids were this size.”
“We could stop over there after supper and find out,” Ben said.
“Fine idea,” Tom agreed with an emphatic nod. “We can see how Henry’s handlin’ the fact that he’s a preacher now—and this’ll be his first call to become Christ’s hands here on Earth.”
Annie Mae followed the men’s conversation as she swiped at her tears. “So . . . Miriam, this means I’d better quit waitin’ tables to take care of the kids, what with Nellie goin’ to school every day.”
“Ach, but I’d be so happy to look after the boys and Sara again,” Jerusalem cut in. “Leastaways, until I move to Cedar Creek with Vernon.”
“Ya can’t have any more time with them than I get, Sister!” Nazareth blurted. She smiled warmly at Annie Mae. “Seems to me you’ve been doin’ real gut for yourself, workin’ and settin’ by some money—”
“So, what if the kids stay at my place?” Bishop Tom’s face lit up as these new solutions took shape. “Adam’s just finished paintin’, and the rooms’re all cleaned out, so that means you two Hooley sisters could move back to my farm, too—to look after the kids and me, as well. Sounds like a dream come true!”
Jerusalem clapped her hands while Nazareth beamed at the bishop. “That surely sounds cozier than bunkin’ above Luke and Ira’s mill,” she replied. “Much as we love the nephews, comin’ back to your place would be a big improvement—”
“And we’d be right there to tend our goats, too!” Jerusalem pointed out.
Bishop Tom looked like a fellow who’d just solved all the problems of the world as he smiled at Annie Mae. “We’ve got lots of cleared-out guest rooms now, if you and Nellie want to be there with the kids. I think it’s real important for all you brothers and sisters to be together.”
Adam let out the breath he’d been holding during this rapid-fire exchange of ideas. Just that fast, on the spur of an unexpected moment, this circle of friends had accommodated the six Knepps—had rearranged their lives to help a family in need. This was what Adam missed . . . the homey aromas of supper on the stove, along with the chorus of voices and the smiles that filled this home to the rafters with love and goodwill. It seemed almost too good to be true—at least, considering the way things had worked out in his own life. “I should head home,” he murmured. “Matthias will be wondering—”
“Get your brother and bring him back here for supper,” Miriam insisted. “Always room here for you Waglers—and how could we not repay ya for takin’ care of our Annie Mae and the kids today?”
“Jah,” Ben agreed, “you’re the man who turned the page so the Knepps can start a whole new chapter.”
“I was just passing through Higher Ground out of curiosity,” Adam insisted, “after I’d delivered Tom’s boxes to the Mennonites’ missionary center—”
“Puh!” the bishop teased. “Humility’s a gut thing, Adam, but—your concern for Annie Mae aside—there’s no wrong in takin’ credit for doin’ what needed to be done.”
Before Adam could protest that idea or Tom’s hint about his feelings for Annie Mae, she stood square in front of him. She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, too, meeting his gaze head-on. “I was upset when ya barged into Yonnie’s apartment,” she murmured. “But ya had him figured right. And if ya hadn’t stuck around Higher Ground until I got outta there, the kids would still be walkin’ in the snow with no coats on, and I’d be a basket case tryin’ to get them home. Denki again for bein’ way smarter and more responsible than I was, Adam. You’re a gut man, ya know it?”
Adam couldn’t breathe, much less find the words to respond. Annie Mae’s blue eyes were gazing straight into his soul. But what did she see, really? She had no idea how her words terrified him even as they made him feel . . . respected. Cherished. Loved. And that was the scary part—not to mention that the Hooleys and Bishop Tom had witnessed her words. And now they were watching for his reaction, awaiting his response.
Adam cleared his throat. Annie Mae still had a grip on his shoulders, and she would not be denied as she kept gazing at him. He hoped whatever words came out of his mouth wouldn’t sound totally incoherent or ridiculous. “I—I was watching out for myself, mostly,” he admitted. “Couldn’t have handled my conscience if I’d driven away from Yonnie’s place and then later found out he’d—well—”
“I won’t be seein’ him ever again.” Annie Mae’s smile wobbled, but her words rang with unwavering commitment. “Even if he wasn’t workin’ for Dat, he’s gotten too big for his English britches and—well, he’s up to no gut in ways I don’t even want to think about.”
“Praise be to God,” the bishop murmured. “If you’ve seen the light about that Stoltzfus fella, Annie Mae, my day’s been made.”
“Amen to that,” Ben echoed.
Adam’s heart was racing, but this was no time to delve into what Annie Mae’s words might mean for him. From the hallway came the thundering of young feet.
“Let’s eat!” one of the twins crowed.
“Rebecca says we’re havin’ creamed chicken and homemade rolls!” his look-alike chimed in. “And macaroni and goat cheese—with bacon!”
“And Naz’reth’s lemon pudding cake!” Sara cried out ecstatically.
“Whoopie pies!” Timmy whooped. “Lotsa whoopie pies.”
No wonder the house smelled sooo good. Adam’s stomach rumbled at the kids’ roll call of the supper menu, while everyone around him laughed and opened their arms to greet the cleaned-up Knepps. Everyone except Annie Mae, who was still smiling at him.
“Please stay,” she whispered. “Get Matthias and come back, okay? It won’t be the same celebration without you here . . . Short Stack.”
Adam squelched the inner protest that had always protected him from getting too close when a girl appealed to him. After all, if he came back, he’d be in a roomful of people, and they’d be deciding the details of where the kids would stay. . . .
“All right, you talked me into it,” he replied as he returned her smile. “See you in a few.”
As he climbed into his wagon, Adam didn’t notice the cold seat or frown about how the snow was starting to accumulate on the roadway. What had just happened in the Hooley house? While he’d figured the good folks of Willow Ridge would find a place for the Knepp kids, he hadn’t anticipated being invited into this close-knit circle . . . sought after and commended. Annie Mae had reeled him in with her gentle insistence that she wanted nothing more to do with Yonnie, and that he, Adam Wagler, was a good man. She’d made it sound as though he mattered to her.
Hook, line, and sinker, his inner voice warned.
But—for this evening, anyway—he was okay with that.
Chapter Fifteen
What have I gone and done? Now Dat’s sure to come after me!
Annie Mae willed herself to lie still, because Nellie was fast asleep beside her in the bed they shared at Bishop Tom’s. Across the room in a crib the Zooks had loaned them, Sara’s deep, even breathing made her envy the little girl’s comfort and trust. With Ben and the bishop’s help, all six of them—plus the two Hooley sisters—had relocated to this home with surprising ease and lack of fuss after supper. In the next bedroom, the three little boys had fallen asleep nearly as soon as their heads had hit the pillows, delighted that Jerusalem and Nazareth were tucking them in again. From the bedroom on h
er other side came a duet of snoring that told her the Hooley sisters were sleeping peacefully, as well.
No one else seemed concerned about the consequences of her actions today, yet as the clock downstairs chimed midnight . . . one o’clock . . . two . . . Annie Mae wrestled with the decisions she’d made so impulsively. Although everyone at Miriam’s had reassured her she’d done exactly the right things—and while she wouldn’t have changed her behavior one iota, after the way Delilah had treated her siblings—her sense of doom felt like a fifty-pound bag of flour lying on her chest.
And because Tom Hostetler had taken them all in, Dat would wreak havoc on the new bishop, for certain. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if he barged in on Tom and Nazareth’s wedding ceremony this coming Thursday, just as he’d made a scene when Ben and Miriam had married. And it would surely be her, his errant eldest daughter, whom he snatched up off the pew bench as he hurled his accusations and angry words.
And if Yonnie Stoltzfus told Dat about their visit to his apartment, and Adam’s involvement with their escape from Higher Ground, poor Adam would suffer, as well.
Adam had been such a rock this afternoon. Was it her imagination, or had he let down his guard and warmed up to her? As she lay in the darkness, Annie Mae relived every touch of his sturdy, work-worn hands . . . every encouraging smile . . . the way he’d held her close after he’d wrapped the boys in a drop cloth to keep them warm.
Don’t get caught up with Adam, her thoughts warned as she turned onto her other side yet again. Why would he fall for ya now that four little kids and Nellie come as part of your package? Why would any fella court ya, now that you’re responsible for so many lives?
But she’d made her stand, as far as never seeing Yonnie again—with witnesses to hold her to it. Annie Mae sensed, however, that Yonnie wouldn’t accept her rejection at face value—because he’ll walk away or come back whenever it suits him. So where does that leave you?
Annie Mae frowned in the darkness. Why had she not seen this trait in Yonnie before? Years she’d known him, yet their times together had been carefree and adventurous and—
That’s because ya didn’t cross him. He said jump and ya always said how high?
Annie Mae rose from the bed to go to the window—anything to relieve the restlessness of her soul. Outside, the full moon shone with a lustrous beauty that made the fresh snow glimmer in the rolling pastures that stretched between here and the Kanagy place. The barns and silos stood peaceful watch over the countryside she knew so well, yet she felt she was seeing a different Willow Ridge.
Or was she seeing Willow Ridge with different eyes?
Lord, this is all so confusing and—and I don’t suppose Ya have any reason to listen to me, after all the years I’ve spent runnin’ the other way, not listenin’ to You, Annie Mae prayed in silent desperation. But so many gut folks could be hurt by my choices. So if Ya could steer me toward the right answers, I’ll listen closer now. I’ll pay attention, instead of lettin’ Yonnie and my wayward inclinations get the best of me.
Annie Mae stepped away from the window and then stopped. Her reflection in the dresser mirror across the room caught her by surprise: her white nightgown glowed in the moonlight, and with her black hair hanging to her waist, she resembled the angels Bishop Tom carved for his Nativity sets.
“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face-to-face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”
Annie Mae couldn’t name the chapter and verse that had just come to mind; at this breathtaking moment, she felt painfully aware of how little attention she’d paid to the Scriptures. But the goose bumps that prickled on her skin told her something astounding was happening. While gazing into mirrors was frowned upon because it fostered vanity, this moment felt holy . . . like a sign from God Himself. An answer to her prayer.
Her body relaxed and her pulse slowed. She gazed without blinking, searching for meaning in this vision, on this darkest night her soul had known since her mamm had died. Indeed, it could well be her mother gazing back at her from the glass, in the form of an angel come to bear an important message.
Annie Mae held her breath, unable to look away. As she recalled, folks in the Bible who’d been greeted by angels had been terrified, yet she felt peaceful . . . as serene as the snow-covered, rolling hills outside.
Is it you, Mamm? Are ya tryin’ to tell me something?
Oh, but she wished she could speak aloud to this vision and get the answers she’d yearned for since her mother had passed. She’d been a girl of eleven, so unprepared to take on the responsibility of watching over Nellie . . . and then for mothering the four wee ones when her stepmother Linda had died in childbirth, as well.
But you did it. And you’ll do what needs to be done again and again, my child, for it’s your purpose in life to care for others—especially those who are defenseless and have no one else to turn to. You are stronger than you know.
Annie Mae turned to be sure no one else had entered the room. She was the only one awake, yet she’d heard a voice as clearly as if Bishop Tom had come to the bedroom door to speak to her.
It was all in your head. Don’t go thinkin’ it’s real just because—
But the words had been real. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life. Annie Mae’s hand fluttered to her heart as she considered what this little episode might mean. Why would she be seeing angels that looked like Mamm and hearing voices . . . unless she was going crazy?
Not crazy. Committed. Committed to moving forward on the right path, come what may.
Annie Mae’s breath escaped slowly. She backed away, into the bedroom’s shadows, but she’d seen what she was supposed to see. And she’d heard a voice intended for her ears alone.
At that moment, she knew exactly what she must do.
Annie Mae slipped back into bed, yet she was so awake—so aware—she had to force herself to lie very still and just think. In a couple of hours, Tom would be rising to milk his dairy herd, and it was he she needed to speak with . . . to share the new direction she had received. He would understand and help her, as he always had. The bishop would defend her and her siblings against Yonnie or Dat or whoever tried to dishonor her, for he was a beacon of the Old Order faith. Like a lantern in her father’s darkness Tom would shine, and he would help her see the path she should take, too.
It was a Sunday when there was no church service in Willow Ridge, so Jerusalem and Nazareth would most likely devote their day to the children. The unhurried morning would be the perfect time to figure out who would sew clothes for them and what would happen if Dat came here to Tom’s house....
When she heard the bishop’s footsteps on the wooden stairs, Annie Mae rose and quickly dressed in the darkness. As she braided her hair. wound it into a bun, and then put on her kapp, Nellie slept on. And that was just as well. Annie Mae hoped for some time alone with the bishop . . . to be sure she hadn’t misinterpreted her vision.
When she reached the kitchen, Tom was lavishing apple butter on a slice of bread before he headed through the snow to the barn. His eyes widened when he saw she was up, but his smile was warm.
“Thought ya might sleep in, after yesterday bein’ so eventful,” he mused. “If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of—”
“I—I wanna talk to you,” Annie Mae said breathlessly. “Can I go to the barn with ya while ya milk?”
“Now there’s a request I don’t often hear,” he replied with a quiet chuckle. “I’d be glad to have ya, Annie Mae. Dress warm, now—there’s boots in the mudroom. Looks like we got several new inches of snow in the night.”
A few minutes later they were striding through fresh, fluffy snow that came up over her feet, yet Annie Mae felt warm . . . as calm as the blanketed countryside that surrounded them for as far as she could see in every direction. Once again she was struck by the beauty of Willow Ridge . . . rolling hills and tidy farmsteads where folks she’d known and loved all her life would soon be lig
hting their lamps to start their day. It was this unchanging sense of stability, this enduring ritual, that reassured her as she and Tom entered the earthy-smelling barn. For the past several years she’d rebelled against the routine of her life—the ever-necessary rules—as being dull and limiting. Yet now Annie Mae took immense comfort in knowing that the folks here stood firm in their beliefs and in the sense that their lives had meaning.
The black-and-white Holsteins shifted in their stalls, lowing and awaiting the bishop’s tending—they depended upon him as surely as the faithful all around town looked to him for guidance and assurance. When he’d turned on the generator, gotten the first round of cows sanitized, and then hooked them up to the milking machine, Tom turned to her. His face glowed in the light of the lantern hanging on the wall above them.
“What’s on your mind, Annie Mae? You’ve had an awful lot to deal with since your visit to Higher Ground,” he said in a low voice.
“I wanna join the church,” Annie Mae blurted. “Wanna start my instruction now! Or—or as soon as ya can do that for me,” she added in a less demanding tone.
The bishop’s smile was a sight to behold. “Praise be to God!” he cried as he grasped her shoulders. “Nobody’s happier than I am to hear that, honey-girl.”
Annie Mae had been holding her revelation inside long enough that it spewed forth now. “I—I saw a vision this morning,” she rasped. “Well, it was my own reflection in the mirror, really, yet it seemed like an angel—maybe even Mamm—was tellin’ me that I was to take my vow and look after the kids as my purpose in life. And even if I have to remain a maidel—on account of how fellas will most likely shy away from latchin’ on to all six of us—so be it. I’m ready to do that.”
The bishop’s swarthy face softened. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at her, contemplating what he’d say next. “That’s quite a stand you’re takin’, but an admirable one,” he murmured. “Truth be told, I believe the right fella will welcome ya into his heart and his home someday, no matter how many younger ones ya bring along. But meanwhile, can I ask ya what brought this on?” he said softly. “I don’t doubt your intentions for a minute. But this is a mighty sudden turnaround for ya, Annie Mae.”
Breath of Spring Page 14
