“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve honestly forgotten?” Emmalyn glowered. “You were with Andrew at the springhouse pond.”
So she was there, too, snooping around!
Jenny refused to honor her accusing tone with a response. She glanced back at Rebecca, whose hands were moving rapidly as she talked in Deitsch.
“Don’t get too close to my brother” came the angry words.
Jenny shivered. What was wrong with this girl?
A young Amish mother with identical twin boys tucked into a double stroller rushed past them, apologizing as she went.
“Listen, Emmalyn, I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“I want nothin’, and the same goes for my brother. You’re not one of us, Jenny Burns. Just keep that in mind.” And Emmalyn turned away.
Jenny took that as her cue to return to Rebecca, quite aware of her pounding heart.
Despite the long day at market, Rebecca was determined that evening to make good on her latest note to Katie. She waited till Samuel was asleep to get out of bed and take her clothes downstairs. In the kitchen, she turned on the smallest gas lamp and tiptoed to the bathroom to change out of her nightgown.
She went to the utility room and reached for her warmest black coat and gray scarf, along with her waterproof mittens, which kept her hands cozier than the ones she’d knitted last winter.
Then, moving quietly out the back door, she was conscious of the shuffle of her shoes against the pavement. The air was brisk and a slight gust of wind made her shudder as she hurried down the lane, deciding to go on foot.
Oh, she ached for Katie and the little ones again. Her heart throbbed every single day, missing them. Allowing one or two weeks to pass between visits was becoming an unbearable situation, because each visit made her yearn for more, like someone with a sweet tooth needing more and more sugar.
She didn’t dare talk about this terrible loneliness with Samuel. But without saying their names, she alluded to them now and then. She suspected that making reference to their daughter and her family by name would hurt Samuel, and she refused to let him know just how much their shunned daughter occupied her thoughts. Rebecca’s elderly mother had once told her without blinking an eye that most folk will do what they believe is best for themselves, no matter what’s expected. “They just do what they think is right, when all’s said and done.”
In the shadows, Rebecca looked about her, hoping she could manage yet another furtive visit up the road. She dared not pray to that end, though, not when she was being disobedient. Oh, such a tear down the middle of her soul!
She sometimes wondered what her own sisters or mother would do in a similar place. Die Meinding had broken her heart, for certain. But the dreadful experience had also served to remind her how much she loved Katie.
Rebecca would do whatever it took to stay in touch with her daughter. If only the bishop could understand the very heart of her and kindly look the other way!
Jenny quickly realized it was cooler again tonight as she made her way to pray near the springhouse once more. As before, she walked the path that snaked away from the house, down an incline toward the wide stone steps. She crept toward the spot and then knelt and prayed silently, in case Andrew was concealed from view, bringing his own petitions before God. Praying for others . . . and for me.
Tonight Jenny was pleading for wisdom in dealing with Andrew’s own sister in addition to her usual plea for a humble heart. Despite Jenny’s attempt to focus on God, Emmalyn’s sharp words continued to resound in her mind. Nevertheless, Jenny asked the Lord to “tender her heart,” as Rebecca Lapp had once said.
The night was hushed and still, except for the sound of two hoot owls calling from the branches of distant trees, and the occasional tinkle of tack and traces as unseen courting buggies passed by. The sky was filled with sharp white stars. Embracing the tranquility, Jenny wished everyone might have the opportunity to know and absorb such peace, at least for a moment.
She eventually rose and headed toward the stone steps, noticing an amber light in the kitchen window as she stepped onto the driveway. Had someone gotten up and discovered she was missing from her room? She couldn’t imagine it, since she kept her bedroom door closed even when she was gone.
Jenny heard quick footsteps on the driveway and turned to look. Was Emmalyn spying again?
Something rose up in her in spite of her prayers for a peaceful, gentle spirit. Irritated, Jenny followed the footsteps of the figure, a woman hurrying along the roadside without even a flashlight. When Jenny was within perhaps a quarter block of her, she realized the silhouette was too matronly to be Emmalyn.
This must be Rebecca, decided Jenny, although she couldn’t know for sure. But why on earth would Rebecca Lapp get up after going to bed and rush off to parts unknown?
Jenny followed the mystery woman until she came to the crossroad that curved south, toward the house where Katie and her husband lived. She remembered Marnie’s pointing it out the day they’d gone to the Gordonville Book Store.
The woman picked up her pace as she approached the familiar house. Hanging back, Jenny watched as the woman gently patted the mailbox. What was that? From this distance, Jenny couldn’t be sure what she was seeing.
Then, suddenly, she felt a sneeze coming on and pinched her nose tightly shut. But try as she might, a wheeze slipped out, and the sound was magnified in the vacuum of night.
The woman stopped and turned in Jenny’s direction. “Who’s there?” she called.
Rebecca’s voice.
Jenny stepped gingerly behind a tree trunk, trying to avoid uneven roots protruding from the ground.
“Hullo?” Rebecca said, moving away from the walkway, the welcoming porch light behind her. “Is someone there?” She was not giving up.
Heart thrumming, Jenny struggled, unsure what to do. Rebecca’s gait was decisive as she approached the tree, not ten yards away. Rebecca would keep coming until she discovered Jenny’s hiding place.
At last, stepping out of the shadows into the soft, pale light of the moon, Jenny said softly, “Rebecca, it’s me—Jenny.”
The older woman inhaled sharply and seemed to grow a few inches.
“Why are you followin’ me?”
“I wasn’t—I mean . . .” Jenny was surprised at her sharp tone.
“Go back now, and erase this from your mind.”
Shaken, Jenny turned and began to walk toward Hickory Lane, confused by what she had just witnessed.
Chapter 25
Jenny had never felt so perplexed as she showered and washed her hair before bed. When she’d dried off, she slipped on one of three cotton nightgowns she had sewn with Rebecca’s help since the incident with her fancy one. Instead of discarding the problem nightie, however, she’d placed it in a zipped pocket of her suitcase, which lay beneath the bed.
She replayed the uncomfortable encounter with Rebecca in front of Katie’s house. Annoying thoughts kept her from sleeping, so she turned the gas lamp back on and sat up in bed with her devotional book.
What was Rebecca doing?
Jenny reviewed all that Rebecca had taught her regarding obedience and submission—the highest calling. Wasn’t Katie under the Bann, shunned for life? If so, wasn’t it disobedient for Rebecca to visit her daughter’s home?
Much later, as Jenny was dozing off, the lamp still on, she heard someone knock at her bedroom door. “Are you awake, Jenny?”
Quickly, she opened the door to Rebecca, who hurried inside and closed it behind her. “I’m glad you’re still up.” She sat on the edge of Jenny’s bed, cheeks cherry red from the cold. “As you know, it took great trust when Samuel and I opened our home to you.” Rebecca’s hazel eyes looked dark in the dim light. She bit her lip and continued, “Ach, if anyone happened to get wind of this, I’d be persecuted right along with Katie. The bishop would put his foot down, and I would no longer be able to correspond with my daughter and family, let alone risk seeing them face-to-f
ace.” She sighed heavily. “Staying away from them is something I can’t adhere to—not any longer. Of course, my family would never forgive me if I ended up shunned like Katie and Dan.”
Jenny’s heart broke for her. Yet Rebecca knew the rules. How could Jenny offer comfort?
“Other bishops might be more lenient to a parent in my position, but it’s hard to be sure,” Rebecca said. “Bishop John is mighty strict, so you must keep my secret. Will you, Jenny? Will you keep this to yourself?”
Jenny drew back, shocked. “What if the People were to find out, though, and discovered that I knew all along but didn’t say anything? What then?” she managed to say. “I don’t want you to be shunned, Rebecca. How could I live with myself, knowing I was party to that? But I—”
“You’re wonderin’ if you’re at risk, being a seeker ’n’ all.”
Jenny nodded, disheartened at the thought. And this after her few strides forward these past weeks. “The bishop wouldn’t give me much, or any, leeway.”
“Nee—none at all.” Rebecca lowered her head. “I won’t lie to ya. Keepin’ my secret and being found out will verfalle—put you to ruin.”
The two women stared sadly at each other. Rebecca looked away first. “But I have been careful. Ain’t been caught yet.”
I caught you, Jenny thought. “Not by the ministers, no.”
Rebecca nodded circumspectly. “I can’t keep my distance from my Katie-girl.” She went on to add in a whisper how she loved her grandchildren, Sammy and Kate Marie. “You just don’t know.” Her lower lip quivered as a single tear spilled down her cheek. “Please forget what you saw tonight. Promise me.”
Jenny trembled. “You’re asking me to defy the Ordnung.”
“Still, you’re not baptized yet, don’t ya see? You’re not under the ruling of the church.”
“But I’m striving to be. It’s everything I hope for.”
Rebecca rose, her shoulders stooped as she trudged to the door. Silently, she turned to look down at Jenny. Her face was solemn. “I beg you not to say a word.” Then she opened the door and left the room.
Jenny blew out the gas lamp and curled up in the warm bed. She made an effort to understand how a devout believer like Rebecca could justify violating the Bann. As honorable as the woman had appeared to be—and considering the attributes she’d repeatedly urged Jenny to follow as an Amish seeker—the thought was nearly profane.
Exhausted, Jenny prayed yet could find no peace. Everything she’d believed about Rebecca Lapp had come crashing to the ground.
The next morning, Rebecca awoke to the sound of Samuel whispering his prayers in Deitsch. When she opened her eyes, she saw him sitting next to her in bed, two pillows propped behind him. She listened, not letting on she was awake, and was shocked to hear that he knew of Dan and Katie’s home Bible studies. Of all things!
Samuel sounded distraught as his voice cracked when speaking to the Almighty about his excommunicated daughter and her husband. Rebecca couldn’t help wondering how on earth he’d heard about this.
She waited for his amen, then moved a bit, stretching. “You’re awake early, dear,” she said quietly.
He leaned down with a sigh and kissed her, then sat back up. “Lots to be in prayer ’bout this mornin’.”
“Oh?”
“Bishop John stopped over yesterday and shared some mighty surprising news. Seems lately our son-in-law has been the instigator of a house gathering.”
Now was not the time to share that she’d been invited to one of them by Katie herself.
“Bishop wants to find out if some of our young folk are goin’ over there . . . hearin’ Mennonite doctrine.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Declaring one’s salvation, which is only the Lord God’s to declare.”
“Jah . . . on the Judgment Day,” she agreed with him.
“We have the hope of salvation, sure, but it’s wrong to go round sayin’ you’re saved like Daniel Fisher’s teachin’.”
Rebecca had heard all this before, back when Katie up and left the Amish church. Even six years later, she and Dan were quite outspoken about their beliefs. “What’s the bishop plannin’ to do?” she asked.
“Well, for one, Preacher Yoder’s goin’ over there next time they meet, to spy things out.”
She bristled. “Makin’ a list of our folk?”
“Sure sounds like it.”
“Bishop must be desperate, then.” Not surprising, she thought.
“Now, Rebecca, watch what ya say,” Samuel reprimanded. “John Beiler’s the anointed minister of God.”
“Jah, Samuel. Ever so sorry.” She felt like a hypocrite down to her very bones—knew it as sure as she ought to be getting up right now and dressing for the day.
Yet this coming on the heels of the events of last evening nearly paralyzed her—how could she not have known this might happen? She realized she ought to be very thankful it wasn’t one of the People but rather Jenny Burns who had found her out. Rebecca yearned to cover up with the many quilts, burrowing down where she’d be safe from prying eyes.
Will Jenny keep mum? she wondered as Samuel rose and went to put on his old work trousers.
Rebecca hoped so, but she did not pray it. She knew better.
She also knew that if she was schmaert, she’d write her daughter a letter saying she must be more careful about her visits . . . or not go anymore at all.
The sun was concealed by a gray blanket of clouds as bleak as her spirit that morning. Jenny knelt on the cold wide-plank floor and poured out her heart. Even though the ministerial brethren were unaware, hadn’t she already broken the rules of the Proving? Yet coming clean to alleviate the guilt of her knowledge would cause even more pain. Not just for herself, but for Rebecca and her family, who’d already been through the wringer.
Jenny remained in a contrite position, asking for forgiveness, knowing she must trust in divine wisdom and not “unto her own understanding.”
Rebecca’s pleas for confidentiality plagued her, and Jenny prayed all the harder, filled with despair. What if she’d never heard any footsteps last evening . . . never followed them up Hickory Lane?
I must put it out of my mind like Rebecca urged. But can I live with myself?
Over the ensuing days, Jenny’s relationship with Rebecca continued to decline. Although they worked side by side in the kitchen when Jenny wasn’t helping the bishop’s wife, the once warm and inviting camaraderie had all but disappeared. Meanwhile, Rebecca seemed more weary than ever. Was it the love burden or the deceit she carried?
However unwilling, Jenny felt like an accomplice, a seeker with merely a righteous face. Yet when she pictured herself revealing Rebecca’s transgression to even Samuel, her knees locked and her back straightened. I am not humble, nor am I obedient.
Still, her silence was only part of the sin, and Jenny was stuck between an impenetrable wall and a boulder, with no breathing room.
Rebecca welcomed Jenny’s help washday morning, but she was relieved when Jenny left early to go baby-sit the bishop’s little girls. She needed a reprieve from the disappointed looks poor Jenny could no longer disguise. She felt just wretched, praying for forgiveness even as she willfully refused to comply with the Bann. She knew herself too well to change that, barring locking herself in the attic and crawling into the old wooden trunk. Where Katie’s pink satin baby gown was first discovered . . .
Rebecca leaned over the big basin in the cellar and let the tears fall. There was simply no place to turn.
Jenny was almost positive Rebecca was sobbing her eyes out somewhere in the house. She’d seemed despondent since their talk in Jenny’s bedroom. Katie’s room, thought Jenny, never quite able to forget.
When Jenny arrived at her neighbors’, Mary Beiler greeted her at the back door, saying she wanted to introduce Jenny to the bishop. The timing was unnerving. And when the tall, rather attractive bishop appeared out of the kitchen, holding little Anna, Jenny felt out of so
rts and didn’t know how to address the man she’d wanted to meet all this time.
“Our little ones enjoy having you baby-sit,” the man of God said as he extended his right hand. His eyes were discerning yet kind, and his voice did not thunder down the fiery brimstone she knew she deserved. “Denki, Jenny.”
She tried to work her facial muscles into what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I love taking care of your little girls.” She didn’t have to say it, but the words flowed freely. It was the only aspect of this delayed meeting that felt natural.
“I commend you for wanting to be one of the People,” the bishop surprised her by saying. “Not many succeed, you must know.”
This wasn’t exactly what she needed to hear, but Jenny found herself nodding. “The way of Gelassenheit is not easy.”
“Nee,” he whispered, bowing his head. “We must die daily to our wants and desires, as the Scriptures instruct.”
She was dying all right, with nearly every breath.
“Before I forget, there were two young ladies—Englischers in their twenties, I’d guess—lookin’ for you earlier.” The bishop shifted sweet Anna in his arms.
“This morning?”
“Jah. Said they’d gotten lost and needed the right address.”
Could it be Pamela and Dorie? Jenny wondered, a surge of excitement rising after the bishop left for the barn and Mary headed for the waiting horse and buggy. Seeing her dear friends again might help Jenny get her mind off herself, if only for a while.
Rebecca told the dolled-up Englischer sisters at her front door that Jenny was indeed staying there. “But I’m sorry she’s not home right now.” To think they’d already been over to the bishop’s place, and less than an hour ago, too. How on earth had they gotten lost in such a small area as Hickory Hollow?
“We drove to the end of West Cattail Road,” the older and shorter of the two sisters explained, seemingly flustered. She wore a dizzying display of colors—a salmon-hued sweater and a lime-green scarf showed beneath her rust-colored leather jacket.
The Secret Keeper Page 13
