by Beth Shriver
“You seem better.” Rachel turned her head to let Elsie see her smile. “He’s a gut man.”
Elsie sighed at hearing the familiar compliment. “Jah, I know. I only wish I could live up to him. I felt more comfortable with Jake for that reason.”
“Then you were selling yourself short.” Rachel turned down the dusty road leading to Omar’s house. “You need to stop that way of thinking.”
“And you need to stop making us a couple, or people will think we are.” When they got to the house, Elsie jumped down off Charles and frowned at Rachel. She loved her friend, but she was full of advice at times. Elsie expected it came from raising all those boys, but she didn’t always appreciate it when it fell on her.
Rachel grinned. “Okay, whatever makes you feel better.” She turned Charles and started back toward the road.
“We need to work on our quilt.” Elsie was glad she thought of an excuse for her friend to spend time with her. It was good medicine to sit together and quilt; finishing their quilt was long overdue. It was one Katie started with Elsie before she left, but Elsie couldn’t bear to leave it undone.
Rachel raised a hand to her forehead. “I’d almost forgotten.”
Elsie waved and eagerly walked the rest of the way to the white house with black trim. She was anxious to find out what Gideon wanted to share with her. Omar’s home was large for his many children, but some of them moved away to start their own families, leaving a couple of rooms for he and Gideon to study. Services were held in the parishioners’ homes, but Omar opened his home for meetings with the deacons and ministers.
Elsie knocked on the door, and Minister Zeke answered. He was a squatty, egg-shaped man, with a ring of dark hair around his head, and always in a sweat. His squinty eyes peered into hers.
“Elsie, Gideon mentioned you’d be coming. Come in.” He opened the door wider, and Elsie stepped inside. A long staircase led upstairs, and a large dining room was to the right next to the kitchen. To her left were the meeting rooms. “So you’re here to see Gideon.”
“Jah, he’s studying something he wants me to see.” Elsie wanted as little assumptions made as possible. She had too much on her mind to have anything else to worry about.
“I see.” A smile stretched across Zeke’s face. “It’s not usual for a young woman to study here at Bishop Omar’s home. Is there something I should know about?”
Elsie leaned back, wanting to create a distance between them. “Nee, he wants to show me something is all.”
He rubbed his hands together and hummed. “How is your family coping with everything that’s gone on?”
“We’re fine, Zeke. Danke.” Elsie was tired of his nosy questions and tried to pass by him. “Which room?”
He smiled and pointed to the open door to her left. “Keep the door open.”
“Danke.” Elsie was already walking to the door, not wanting to have to answer any questions.
Elsie peeked in and searched for him. It was silent, so she walked to the back room where the ceremonial pieces were kept. Gideon sat at a small desk, reading a thick book with paper and pen at his side. His eyes moved across the page, and he scribbled something in a notebook. This was why she felt she wasn’t worthy of him. His desire for knowledge and serving the people seemed to come so naturally for him. She felt compassion for others, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
Elsie stepped closer. “What are you reading?”
He started and slowly turned to her. He smiled his greeting and pointed to the black book. “This is what I wanted to show you.” The hardback appeared to be ancient. Chips were missing from the cover, and the title’s gold stenciling showed wear from age and heavy use. The Martyrs Mirror was something she’d heard about in Sunday services, but she didn’t know any of the stories specifically.
Elsie sat on the chair next to him that he obviously prepared before she came. “I’ve never seen a book this large.” She felt Gideon’s eyes on her, enjoying her fascination. “We have the book at home, but I’ve never read it myself.”
“There are over twelve hundred pages from the years 1562 to 1660 describing the accounts of martyrdoms in the Christian faith.” He stopped only long enough to see if she was with him, which she definitely was. “The book was created in an era when the Anabaptists were being imprisoned for their beliefs.”
Elsie cringed. “This may sound disrespectful, but I really don’t want to read about Christians dying.”
“It’s their final messages from jail that will not only explain the roots of your faith but tell you about our history. You’ve read of the disciples and how they met their fate due to their faith.” He tapped the cover. “This is their story, and many more.”
Elsie still wasn’t sure she wanted the details, but she was intrigued simply because of Gideon’s enthusiasm. “How were they able to record all of this?”
“Various sources. Some are memoirs, others written records never before made public. There is information from examinations, death sentences, and letters. Also documents obtained from magistrates, criminal authorities, and clerks. The list is long and substantial.”
She smiled. “You know a lot about this.”
He glimpsed at her, to the book, and back again. “These examples have strengthened my belief in more ways than I thought possible. Backed up with Scripture and the history found in the Old Testament, I’ve found it to be second only to the Bible for learning our place in this world.”
Gideon knew her diligence for the Bible. Comparing any book to it caught her attention. “If it’s that relevant to all Christians, why is it partial to the Amish and Mennonites?”
“The persecution told in this book is what drove the Amish from England to North America.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s a well-known fact.”
“But this explains our heritage from four hundred fifty years ago.”
Elsie’s brow lifted. “Can I see it?” She didn’t look away and began reading before he could answer.
The Martyrs Mirror is about Christians who discovered God wanted more for His people than they ever imagined. Because their transformed lives set them apart, they were criticized and persecuted, meeting in secret, anticipating arrest, but often winning the respect of their neighbors, winning converts who saw them sacrifice their lives.
“This is interesting.” She sat back, and Gideon read more to her.
“Those memorialized in this book wanted to restore the glory of God’s original plan for His Church. They laid the plumb line of the Gospel to their lives, and as best they could, sought to adjust their lives to match Christ’s example, instead of reinterpreting Christ’s example to fit their lives.”
They talked, exchanging questions that neither could answer. Their curiosities led to more questions that led to the foundation of their faith. Though Elsie had reservations about a book full of strife, she was intrigued by what they’d discussed. When the clock chimed, it didn’t seem possible that an hour could have passed by.
“You know so much about the history of our faith. I can see why you are thought to be a minister.” Elsie was almost jealous. Her fervor for the Word was so great she wished she could have a place among the men who studied and knew the Bible well. But that couldn’t happen in the Amish community. “I wish I had the opportunity you do.”
His dark eyes flashed. “You’re always welcome to study with me. I know you spend time in the Bible and have a passion to learn more.” He tilted his head. “I definitely know that much about you.”
She laughed. “Do you think you know everything about me?”
“Jah,” he responded soberly. “Pretty much anyway.”
This made her pause. “Perhaps you’re right.”
They sat in silence until Elsie broke through the quiet by glancing away. “I should be getting back to help my mamm.” She stood, and Gideon followed her out.
“If there is anything you want to share with me, you know I’ll hold it in confidence.”
E
lsie stared down at her black leather boots and brushed off a chunk of mud with her toe. “Sometimes I think you can read my mind.”
“There are times I wish you could read mine.” He smiled gently and watched her go. Elsie turned once to see him still standing in the doorway, but she knew he continued to watch her until she was out of sight.
As she made her way along the road, she heard the creaking of a wagon behind her. She turned around to see Mose’s blond hair blowing in his eyes and a smile growing across his face. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the day?” He pulled on the reins, and the horses slowed to a halt.
“I don’t want to be late for the noon meal.” She looked around hesitantly then lifted a hand to cover her eyes. “Would you mind giving me a ride home?” She didn’t know if she should make the request. It might be frowned upon that they were together alone, but she didn’t want to be late in helping her mamm with the meal.
“Sure, hop in.” He helped her with a hand up and waited for her to get settled. “Are you feeling better these days?” His blue eyes rested on hers as he waited for her answer.
“Jah, I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me that day.” She looked away, knowing exactly why. Being there again without Jake, the heat of the day, and sitting there with Mose created a combination of both emotional and physical anxiety.
“I was glad to see you again, Elsie.” Mose glanced at the horses but then gave his attention back to her. “I’m not sure why, but I feel better when I’m with you.” He studied her, but she didn’t know what he surmised.
“We have a common bond. It gives a body comfort to know someone else is going through the same hardship as they are.” She didn’t believe her words and hoped he didn’t see her as downplaying the way he felt. “I do know what you mean though. It’s gut to be able to talk about them.” She didn’t want to say Jake’s and Katie’s names. That would open up a conversation she didn’t want to have. Right now she felt comfortable and relaxed.
They were quiet for a while, and Elsie enjoyed the common silence between them. Then Mose pursed his lips and talked but kept his head forward. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel awkward, but I’d like it if we spent time together every now and again. Just to talk about them.” He turned to her then with question in his eyes. “Does that sound okay, or would it make you uncomfortable?” His crystal blue eyes were intense as he waited for her answer.
She wasn’t exactly sure of what he meant. It seemed innocent enough, but she didn’t think it was such a good idea. “You mean to support each other?”
He paused, soaking in what she said. “Jah, it would be gut to have someone to talk to.”
Elsie questioned how much it would help. And in the end she decided that some companionship between them might do them some good, but she’d rather not be reminded of Jake in any way, even if it meant keeping her distance from Mose.
Chapter Five
THE MILKING WENT slowly. If Gideon wore a watch, he’d be checking it every few minutes as he observed the tourists doing in town. He couldn’t get to the fields fast enough, knowing Elsie would be there. Not used to this rushed feeling, he felt an unfamiliar anxiety. He paced down the row of Holsteins and watched as the machines pumped.
It seemed that something was different about Elsie this last time he saw her. Less pain in her eyes? A willingness to press forward? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was there that wasn’t before.
When the machines quieted, he went from one to the next, removing the suction cups and wiping them down. Once the milk was pasteurized, it was distributed into containers. Gideon took the bottles to the cooler and placed them on the shelves.
Studying Martyrs Mirror gave him and Elsie a common interest and, Gideon had to admit, also an excuse to spend time with her. Her parents’ complete trust in him made him appreciative, but he also felt a great deal of pressure. His attraction for her was not only emotional but physical as well. He kept his thoughts pure in order to stay focused on creating a friendship in hopes it would eventually grow into more.
When he finished feeding the livestock, Gideon made his way to the first home where a number of men were gathering to help with spring planting. They proceeded from one farm to another until every one from the group had their crop seeded for fall harvest.
When he arrived at the Stolzfus home, a group of a dozen men stood on and around the porch talking and taking in the weather. A few dark clouds threatened rain, but they would work through it unless it became unbearable.
“Gideon, my friend. We need your solid arms to steady the plow.” Benjamin Stolzfus made the experience as much of a social gathering as a day of labor.
“You put me to work before I got a chance to say hello.” Gideon stepped lively into the circle of men and exchanged their banter. With greetings aside, they each began their part in the process. Gideon found the horses and harnessed them. After hitching the plow, he was ready. Each horse team required two people, so Gideon readily grabbed his friend Yonnie to assist him. He didn’t bother to slow down, teasing his friend by making him run.
Yonnie ran up and pulled himself onto the bench. “Thanks for stopping to let me get on.” He grinned and brushed the blond hair from his eyes. “So how are things at the Yoders?” He rested his arms on his muscled thighs and waited for Gideon to answer.
“Why would you ask about another family other than my own?” Gideon played along, not knowing if he wanted to bare his soul to his inquisitive friend.
“I’ve heard you’ve been spending time there.” Yonnie fed on others’ relationships because he couldn’t seem to have one of his own. His forward and brash ways weren’t appreciated by most girls, and even more so their parents. He meant well but had a big personality.
“I spend time at many different homes, just not yours lately.” Gideon laughed. “Do you miss me, old friend?”
“Not so much. I’ve been busy with a girl of my own.” Yonnie turned to see his reaction. Gideon all but dropped the reins hearing the news.
“Who?” was all Gideon could manage to say.
“Beverly Zook.” He waited for only a second then had to ask, “You don’t approve, or are you jealous?”
Gideon didn’t fall for the bait. He knew too well Yonnie’s struggle with women, and he hoped he found someone who suited him. He just couldn’t picture him with a bishop’s daughter. “Neither; she’s a nice girl.”
Yonnie’s face became somber. “How are the Yoders? Letting go, I hope.”
Gideon paused at the words. “That’s a gut way to put it. All but Elsie, but even she is coming along.” If his prayers were answered, that would come to fruition. In the meantime, all he could do was hope.
“Did you hear about the Kings’ fence line getting cut?” Yonnie winced as if it pained him to say it.
“Jah; did they lose any livestock?” Gideon usually knew first-hand when these incidents happened, but he had been preoccupied with the Yoders and studying Martyrs Mirror. It was worth it. He was sure the study was helping Elsie through her own time of trial. She seemed to be getting a grasp what their forefathers went through to create a peaceful and forgiving people.
“Found ’em wandering about. Thought this nonsense would stop.” Yonnie sat up and tightened the reins.
“You don’t think it was an accident?”
“Nee.” He quickly answered then turned to look at Gideon. “Why, don’t you?”
Gideon chose his words carefully. Spreading rumors without the facts would lead to more problems. “I’d like to think so.”
Yonnie scoffed. “Always the optimist.”
They dropped the plow and started refining the rows of soil. They were followed by those dropping the seed. Cotton and wheat grew best down south, unlike the tobacco they planted up north. Gideon’s community taught the men who moved here how the crops differed. The newcomers from Virginia settled farther south on land that butted up against the land of the Texans, who also grew crops and raised l
ivestock. That’s where most of the trouble occurred, according to the authorities, but they could do little about it unless the Amish pressed charges. But they wouldn’t, so it was futile.
They took a break at noon when the women brought sandwiches and drinks. Gideon kept an eye out for Elsie but stopped when Yonnie noticed his distraction. Gideon watched as Mose walked up beside her and they began to talk. He supposed it was only appropriate considering they both felt the loss of a sibling. Elsie caught a glimpse of Gideon and made her way over.
“I thought I might find you here when I saw Yonnie.” Elsie’s voice broke into his thoughts as he turned to greet her.
“Elsie, I was looking for you.” Gideon knew his face was beaming, but he couldn’t curb his emotions.
“The boys wanted to help me milk this morning.” That’s all she needed to say. The boys added time to the chore that took awhile to begin with.
Yonnie shook his head. “My sisters won’t set foot in the barn if there’s milking to tend to. You’re fortunate to have a girl who doesn’t mind helping with the Holsteins.”
Elsie and Gideon stared at one another. No one referred to Elsie as being his. He snapped back into the conversation and groaned thinking about when he had to be patient with his younger brothers as they learned the routine. “The cows are never in a hurry, and I’m sure Adam and Aaron aren’t either.”
Elsie nodded her agreement. “Once Will left, it became my chore. I don’t mind it though. Gets me out of the house for a while, doing something different. When the boys are old enough, they’ll take over.”
Elsie dealt with a lot of the people in her life leaving, moving on while her own life hadn’t changed. Will left first and then Jake and Katie soon after. Gideon hadn’t thought about how close together their departures were.
She walked closer and glanced over the field he was working. “Looks like you’re almost finished.”
“This soil is better than most, much like your daed’s.” Gideon knew Solomon missed the fertile soil that didn’t need the extra season of soybean or clover to replenish. The red clay of Texas had to be treated, or it wouldn’t hold the water needed to grow healthy crops. The men worked together until they found a mix of acceptable fertilizer. Solomon continued searching for new ideas, hoping for results like he had in the fields up north.
