“Oh, didja now?”
“She and I stuck right close to each other for a long time.” She wouldn’t go so far as to say that Gid’s sister had ended up riding home with a boy other than her brother. That was all she best be saying. Who a girl paired up with was supposed to be kept quiet. Besides, Dat knew better than to ask.
“Didja happen to talk to Smithy Gid at the singing, then?”
Dat’s question startled her. “Dat . . . I—”
“Oversteppin’ my bounds, I ’spose. You know, Leah, I have such high hopes for you and the Peachey boy.”
She thought on that. “You’ve been sayin’ this for as long as I can remember. But . . . truth is, I like someone else. Always have.”
Dat snorted a bit from the underside of his cow.
“Does it matter that I’m awful happy?” she asked. “Happy as you and Mamma?”
Silence.
“Dat?”
“Leah, I just don’t know . . .”
“Are you put out with me, then?”
Dat stopped milking and leaned back on his stool, catching her eye behind the cow. “Just try to be choosin’ wisely, won’tcha?”
“Which means I don’t have a choice at all, jah?”
“You’ve got your mamma’s tongue!”
“Sorry, Dat.”
“Well, then?”
“Best not talk about this anymore,” she said softly.
Dat’s dear face disappeared behind ol’ Rosie.
Ach, her father was sorely hurt. She wished she could see his face again, see around the cow, see just how disappointed he must be.
Finally Dat spoke. “Still, as long as you ain’t a married woman, I won’t stop hopin’.”
Sighing, Leah didn’t know what to say. Looked as though there was no way to change Dat’s mind. Not just yet. But someday she would. She and Jonas Mast would.
Truth be known, Sadie was pleased that Mamma was in the family way. The news had jolted her at first, but now that she’d had time to think, she realized it was wonderful-gut timing. This way all the fuss would be made over Mamma and her midlife baby, not Sadie’s sad and sinful situation. She could hide behind Mamma’s skirt tail, so to speak.
Meanwhile, she was beginning to feel a tender bond with the little one inside her, though no life flutters had occurred just yet. She wanted to shield her baby from the likes of Derry Schwartz. Such hateful remarks he’d made. How a young man could be so unlike his father—the village doctor, a man who helped folk get well—was beyond her. Sadie recalled the smiling, polite faces of Derry’s parents. Such nice folk. Why, they’d even invited her inside, though they’d never laid eyes on her before. She could scarcely believe it still, when she thought back to that dreadful night.
Now her turn at the produce stand was over. Gladly she left things to Hannah, who never truly complained, just made it known by the way her nose twitched, eyes blinking, too, that she didn’t so much care for being out here alone with English customers. “Remember what Mamma said,” Sadie called over her shoulder. “If ya sell out everything, that’ll be it till next spring.”
“I heard what she said” came Hannah’s gloomy reply.
“Well, I’m goin’ for a walk . . . over to Blackbird Pond, if anyone wants to know.” This she said because the last time she’d upped and disappeared, both Dat and Mamma had given her a scolding. None of her sisters had been privy to it. She’d endured the severe tongue-lashing, though at the time she wouldn’t have traded those stolen hours with Derry for anything. Now . . . she would do most everything differently if she could, starting with sneaking off Friday nights with Naomi Kauffman. The two of them had spelled trouble all along, and there was no telling what would happen to Naomi if she didn’t hurry up and join church.
“Best go in and help Mamma cook,” Hannah called back to her.
But Sadie had no intention of heading straight indoors, where she was expected. Taking her time, she took the road down to the Peacheys’ long dirt lane, then turned and headed toward their farmhouse, aware of the sun on her back. There was a coolness in the breeze, the first sigh of autumn. She breathed deeply, swinging her arms as she made her way past the smithy’s house, through the barnyard, and out into the pastureland toward the pond.
She didn’t expect to find anyone out there this afternoon. Both Adah and Dorcas were indoors cooking food ahead for Sunday, no doubt, same as Mary Ruth, Leah, and Mamma. Smithy Gid, more than likely, was helping his father in the blacksmith shop in the barn. She didn’t care so much about farm work, or shodding horses, either. Maybe that was the reason she’d gone off to Strasburg, flirting with English boys come Friday nights. For as long as she could remember, she’d had no interest in marrying a farmer. Clear back to grade school days. Being Amish, though, what other choice did she have?
The area surrounding Blackbird Pond was deserted, and she was glad. She sat down in the shade of the twisted willow, the ground beneath her lumpy and cold. She remembered playing in this spot more times than she could count when she and Leah were little, watching Smithy Gid dive into the pond, catching tadpoles with his bare hands.
Just now, staring at the murky water, she wondered what it was—if anything—she could hope for. Besides being the best mamma a child could have, there wasn’t much else to look forward to in her future. She had truly lost her way in the dark woods. All her own doing, too.
Leaning her head down on her knees, she gritted her teeth, knowing she ought to be sorry for all that had gone wrong in her life. But she was more angry than repentant. She wanted nothing to do with Derry, would never again darken the door of that wretched lean-to where they’d spent their late-night hours. She wished the turkey hunters, next month, would go and tear the place down, such an old shanty it was, really. Thinking back to the vast woods made her shudder. What had Derry warned her about the dangers lurking there? Yet he’d said she could trust him. Why had she been so gullible? So completely foolish?
She wished she could cry and release some of the tension inside. Might make more room for her baby to grow. Then she realized how awful silly that was. Getting better rest at night and eating her fruits and vegetables would assure her of a healthy son or daughter. Knowing so little about what she ought to do between now and when the baby was to be birthed, she’d hurried to the Strasburg library this past Wednesday and checked out a book on such things while Miriam Peachey chose dress material. Then, so Miriam wouldn’t know where she’d gone after making her own purchase of yard goods for her sisters’ dresses, Sadie had hidden the book away under the backseat of the buggy. Suddenly it dawned on her. She could observe Mamma—eat what she ate, do what she did to have a healthy child. Come to think of it, her baby and Mamma’s would grow up like siblings. Now, wasn’t that peculiar?
She stood and walked the whole length of the side of the pond, seeing Gid’s German shepherd, Fritzi, bounding toward her. “Here, girl,” she called, happy for some company now. When the dog caught up with her, she knelt and rubbed its neck on both sides, where Gideon said she loved to be stroked. “Are you supposed to be out here, away from your new pups?” she whispered. “Whatcha doin’ so far from the whelping box?”
Docile-eyed Fritzi looked up at her as if to say, I needed to run free for a bit.
“Jah, that’s all right. Come along with me.” So Sadie strolled clear round the opposite side of the pond, Fritzi at her side, a silent companion.
Looking up at the sky, she wondered how almighty God might choose to punish her for her transgressions. There were times when she remembered the Scripture Dat often read from the book of Romans—“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
She hadn’t been devoted to God the way she should’ve, not in the least, otherwise she wouldn’t be in this sad predicament. Having been called “according to his purpose,” she’d willfully sinned . . . even after her baptism. Preacher Yoder, if he knew, would counsel her to m
ake things right, and mighty soon. Well, repenting to the preacher and the deacons was one thing. Their going home and sharing the news of her immorality with their wives so they could spread the shameful word through the community at upcoming quilting bees . . . well, that was another thing altogether. Such potential gossip would not only hurt her chances of ever being courted again, but Leah’s and the twins’ reputations would be tainted, too. Yet once she became great with child, would it matter if she’d confessed to the brethren? The awful truth would be evident.
Oh, she hardly knew what to do these days. Didn’t know what she believed in, either.
Chapter Nineteen
Jonas hurried the horse just a bit, eager to see Leah again. Her hazel eyes—the specks of gold in them— had brightened when he’d asked her, back on the night of their first singing, if he could come calling. “Jah, that’d be fine,” she’d said, and he had walked back to the horse and open buggy with an extra spring in his heels.
Now, coming up over the hill, he spied Abram’s flourishing acres of corn in the distance. Nearly half of it was harvested, he could see in the fading light. He might’ve offered to lend a hand if it wasn’t that his own father needed him for the fall pruning of the apple orchard, some trees twenty feet high. The rigorous thinning process took hours of daily work, but it was best to press on and finish before the snow began to fly.
When he reached the spot where the long Ebersol lane met the road, he slowed the horse and pulled over onto the right shoulder. He glanced at the new dashboard, speedometer, and glove compartment he had installed just this week, hoping Leah would find his courting buggy to her liking and not too fancy. Truth be told, he took more than a little pleasure in knowing just how fast his horse pulled the open carriage. And the glove compartment, well, it was right nice for seeing Leah home from singings and whatnot, if she had any particular need of it.
Jumping down from his shiny black buggy, he stood near the horse, watching for Leah. Originally he had offered to come by much later in the evening—after Abram’s house was dark—but she’d said she could easily meet him out here earlier, at the end of the lane. Being out late seemed to be of concern to her—just why, he hadn’t the slightest notion. After all, tomorrow was the “off-Sunday,” so courting couples could sleep in a bit. Had Abram spoken to her about not staying out too long? Jonas wanted to start things out on the right foot— wouldn’t think of offending his dear girl’s father, that is, if Leah had even revealed just who it was she planned to meet tonight. More than likely, she’d kept Jonas’s name out of any conversation altogether.
He whispered to his horse, looking out over the golden serenity of the fall evening, his gaze wandering all the way round Abram’s rolling front lawn, then over to the adjoining field. He’d heard the rumors about Abram’s hopes of Leah and Smithy Gid uniting in marriage someday, though he dismissed them as mere tittle-tattle. Abram was a reasonable man. Surely he’d want Leah’s say in the matter of a husband.
Tonight Jonas hoped to find out just how well he and Leah got along together. He had a nice surprise in store for her. They were going to drive over and visit his married cousin on his mother’s side. Later on, Anna and her soon-to-be-husband were joining them there for pie and ice cream.
The gentle rustle of a breeze in the bushes made him watch even more keenly for Leah, hoping she might appear at any minute. He started to walk down the lane to meet her halfway, and then there she was . . . he spied the white prayer cap atop her brown hair, and—if he wasn’t mistaken—she wore a cheerful smile. “That you, Leah?” he called.
“Jah, ’tis. Hullo, Jonas.”
He offered his hand as they walked across the road to the parked buggy. Giving her a slight boost, he waited till she was settled on the left side of the driver’s seat, then, hurrying round to the other side, leaped into the carriage.
They rode down Georgetown Road a ways, talking all the while. He was struck yet again at how much he enjoyed the lively conversation. When there was a lull, he asked, “Does your dat know who you’re out with tonight?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
He wanted to bring up the amount of time she expected them to be gone. “Didja want to return early, say before midnight?”
“Maybe closer to eleven,” she replied. “Will that be all right with you?”
Jonas hated the thought of cutting their time short, because they wouldn’t see each other again till next Sunday night at the singing, if Leah agreed to ride home with him again. “I’ll have you back home early enough,” he agreed.
When they got closer to his cousins’ farm, he played a little game with Leah. “Can ya guess where we might be goin’?”
“To somebody’s house?”
“Jah.”
“Anyone I know?”
“You met ’em at the big family reunion several summers back,” he said, enjoying his clever pastime. “ ’Twas when Mamma’s distant cousins from Hickory Hollow came, too.”
“Oh, now I remember. Let’s see.” She paused to think. “Is it a newly married couple?”
“Tied the knot just two years ago.” He was sure she’d know from this additional tidbit.
“I think I know. Must be Bennie and Amanda Zook.”
“That’s right, and there’s something else exciting.” He lowered his voice, sounding even more mysterious. “Another couple is coming, too. Can you guess?”
“A courtin’ couple or married?”
He was impressed with how sharp she was. “Courtin’, that’s all I best say.”
She began naming off one young girl and boy after another. “Becky Lapp and John Esh? Mary Ann Glick and Jesse Stoltzfus?”
“Wouldja like another hint?” he asked at last.
“Just one clue, but a little one, jah?”
He leaned closer, a gut excuse to do so. “Their married name will rhyme with ‘sing.’ ”
She thought for only a few seconds, then said, “Now I know. We’re meeting your sister, Anna, and her beau, Nathaniel King!”
This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He slipped his arm around her and drew her near. “You’re correct, my dear Leah.” And with that, he kissed her cheek.
The harvest moon, yellow and full, rose slowly over the eastern horizon. Leah pointed and said the sight of it nearly took her breath away. Jonas was ever so glad, for he’d hoped she might think so . . . have some wonderful-gut memories of this, their first night as a courting couple, something special to tell their grandchildren in years to come.
The evening visit was filled with laughter, telling jokes and a few stories mixed in, but it was the chocolate-mocha pie and homemade vanilla ice cream that topped off the night. Both Leah and Anna decided it was the tastiest pie they’d ever had. Jonas was especially pleased to observe his sister and Leah getting along so agreeably.
At one point Nathaniel King whispered to him out of the girls’ hearing that perhaps the two couples ought to have themselves a double wedding. Jonas was taken aback by the suggestion, though he assumed a casual attitude. “In less than three weeks? No, we’ve just started courtin’,” he replied.
So the subject was dropped, since he was fairly sure the abrupt idea might scare off Leah. And if not her, then Abram, for sure and for certain. Jonas must prove himself over time, show himself to be deserving of Abram’s daughter—his pick of the crop, far as Jonas could tell.
He took the long drive home, aware of the time, though it was only quarter of ten. Plenty of time for just the two of them. “Didja enjoy yourself?” he asked.
“Oh my, ever so much. Denki, Jonas.”
“Anna and Nathaniel did, too, I think.”
“Jah, they did. And I was glad to get better acquainted with your sister.”
“Anna said to tell you it would be fun to do something else, the four of us . . . sometime.”
“How does Nathaniel feel ’bout that?”
Jonas shook his head. “He’s eager to have gut fellowship with us, too.” Then he
had the daring to ask her, right there and then, if she’d consent to riding home with him at the next singing.
“Why, sure, Jonas.”
Right pleased with her response, he had to hold himself back a bit from moving too quickly, revealing the depths of his feelings for lovely Leah. After all, this was only their first time courting.
Enjoying the stillness, a trace of cinnamon in the fresh night air, he reached for Leah’s hand and held it all the way home as they talked and laughed. Truly, they were so happy together!
Leah wished she’d never said a thing about Jonas having her home by eleven o’clock. Goodness’ sakes, she was having the best time. And here they were, riding under a full moon, her hand in Jonas’s, talking as comfortably as you please. She had built this night up in her mind, during the days between the last singing and now, yet how could she have known she’d feel almost sad to say good-bye?
Dat’s cornfield was fast coming into view as the horse and buggy approached the Ebersol Cottage from the Peachey side. If only Dat could know how happy she was this night.
“I’ll be countin’ the days till I see ya again,” said Jonas.
“A week and a day, jah?” She felt him squeeze her hand gently.
“My brothers and I will be workin’ in the orchard ’tween now and then. Such a busy time it’ll be.”
“And I’ll be helpin’ Mamma finish up the canning and doin’ my outside chores for Dat, too.” She didn’t mention that her mother was in the family way, same as his mamma was. She just left that be. It was up to Mamma to share her news.
“We’ll both be busy . . . so time’ll fly, jah?” he said.
She nodded but didn’t believe it for a second, knowing how the days had crawled along waiting for this night. And what if they both felt so strongly about missing each other? Just how many years would Jonas want to wait before they were married?
When it was time to say good-bye, he gave her a quick, awkward sort of hug. Oh, she wouldn’t have minded letting him kiss her full on the lips, the way she felt just now . . . and the way he was looking at her, too. But she knew better. Mamma had taught her, “Save your lip-kissin’ for marriage.”
The Covenant Page 18
