by Marta Perry
Obey. Accept the Lord’s will. That was the church’s teaching. She believed it. But sometimes it was so hard.
With the boys off to school and Anna upstairs dressing, Mattie looked at Rachel, trying to find the right way to tell her.
“Mammi? Was ist letz?” Rachel’s eyes widened as she caught her mother’s expression.
“Komm. Sit.” Mattie led her to the table, and they sat down next to each other. “You know that Mrs. Graham came to see me last night.”
Rachel nodded. “She’s the wife of the school board president, ain’t so?”
So Rachel knew that much, which would make it easier. “She is.” She paused. “She is a gut customer. And a kind woman, I think. She seems willing to listen to what we believe about the school anyway, even if she doesn’t entirely agree.”
Some of the apprehension faded from her daughter’s face. “I’m glad of it. I don’t like feeling as if everyone is against us.”
“I know.” Mattie put her hand over Rachel’s. “She came last night because she found out something, and she thought it was right that I be told.” She couldn’t help clinging a little tighter to her daughter’s hand. “Mrs. Graham learned that I will be served the order today to send you to school tomorrow or be arrested.”
Tears formed in Rachel’s eyes. “No, Mammi.” She shook her head. “I thought . . . I prayed and prayed that they wouldn’t come for you.”
“I’m not different from any of the others.” Her voice surprised her by its calmness. “We knew that all of us would face this at some time. For me, it’s come.”
Rachel swallowed, as if fighting back sobs. “Aren’t you afraid?”
She owed Rachel the truth, she thought. “Ja, I am afraid, a little. But we have to trust that God is with us everywhere. Even in jail. Remember how Paul and Silas praised the Lord when they were shut up in prison?”
Rachel was silent for a long moment—long enough that Mattie began to have doubts. Had she said the right things? Was she handling this badly?
Finally Rachel met her eyes, her face very serious. “God delivered Paul and Silas,” she said. “We will pray that God will deliver you, too.”
“Ja, that’s a gut prayer, for sure.” If Rachel could keep from crying, she could as well.
There was a clatter outside, and then the back door swung open, revealing Mamm Becky carrying a large basket. Beyond her, Mattie glimpsed Adam turning the cows and the buggy horse into the pasture beyond the barn, while Daad Jonah leaned on the fence.
“Here I am,” Mamm Becky announced, bustling into the kitchen and surrendering her basket to Mattie. She took off the black bonnet she’d worn to come across from her house and patted her hair to be sure it was still smooth under the kapp. “I thought we could do some baking together today.”
“We’re wonderful happy to see you.” Mattie set the basket on the table. Clearly the family had decided that she shouldn’t be alone today.
Rachel, turning from hugging her grandmother, walked quickly toward the stairs. “I’ll make sure Anna is dressed before she comes down. When she hears you’re here, she won’t bother to finish.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Mamm Becky clasped Mattie in a warm hug. “Adam told us. We wanted to be sure you aren’t alone in case the officer comes to serve the papers today.”
“Denke. I’m sehr glad. I think it will happen. Mrs. Graham said my name was on the list with today’s date.”
“Ja, Adam said.” Mamm Becky eyed her. “Are you sure you can trust this woman? After all, her own husband is the one who is causing all the trouble.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “At least, I’m sure she believed she was telling me the truth. We understood each other, I think, the times we talked. She is a mother, too.”
Her mother-in-law shrugged. “Best to be ready, anyway. Adam said you were still up when he came by last night. Did you get any sleep?” She was busy unloading things from her basket as she talked—a big bag of the apples from the McIntosh tree that were so good for pies, a tin of cinnamon, a bag of flour, and one of sugar.
“A little,” she admitted. Mattie had to smile at the provisions Mamm Becky was unloading. As if she wouldn’t have those basic ingredients. But her mother-in-law always liked to come prepared for anything.
“You guessed Adam’s idea to check on your place at night, ain’t so? He and Jonah weren’t as quiet at slipping around as they thought they were.”
“No, I knew all along that they were there. But it did make me feel better, and Rachel, too. Adam is always kind.”
“Kind.” Mamm Becky snorted. “It is what Adam would do because he cares about you. You must know it. He would gladly go to jail in your place if allowed.”
It was Mattie’s turn to study her mother-in-law’s face. “Did he tell you that he wants me to marry him so that he can take my place?”
“He didn’t tell me anything, but I can see as well as anyone which way the wind is blowing. Why didn’t you tell him yes?”
Mattie should have known that Mamm Becky would ask the tough question. “I can’t. I can’t marry him just to let him protect me. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Ach, Mattie, that’s no reason at all.”
“I won’t have him spend the rest of our lives thinking we got married because I needed help.”
“Adam loves you,” Mamm Becky said flatly. “I see it, Jonah sees it, now even Adam sees it. Everyone but you.”
Mattie shook her head, discovering that her eyes had filled with tears. Why was it so hard for others to understand her feelings? It would be different if she could be sure . . .
Wait, what was she thinking? Sure of what? Sure he loved her? Or sure she loved him?
Before she could face the questions her heart asked, she heard the thump of Anna’s feet on the stairs.
“Ach, how one light little girl can make such a racket I don’t know.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “We won’t talk about it anymore now. Rachel knows about the papers,” she added quickly. “Anna doesn’t. She wouldn’t understand.”
There wasn’t time to say more about it, because Anna hurled herself at her grandmother as if she hadn’t seen her for months instead of a day.
“Grossmammi! I tied my shoes all by myself. See?”
Anna stuck out one black shoe. The laces were looped in a very lopsided bow, but they were tied.
“Gut. You’re a big girl now, ain’t so?” Mamm Becky hugged her. “Do you want to help us bake?”
“I do! I can bake, can’t I, Rachel?” Anna appealed to her big sister.
“That’s certain-sure,” Rachel said quickly. “What are we making?”
“How about a big batch of apple dumplings?” their grandmother asked. “Some for now and some for later.”
In the midst of Anna’s noisy response, Adam and Daad Jonah appeared on the back porch. One look at Adam’s face was enough to tell Mattie. It was happening now.
She swallowed, feeling as if her throat was too tight for speech. “Will you keep the girls inside, Mamm Becky?”
Her mother-in-law nodded. She reached for Anna, pulling the child against her.
“Not me,” Rachel said, her young voice firm and decided. “I belong with you, Mamm.”
Mattie wanted to argue, but Rachel was right. If her daughter was indeed old enough to leave school, she was old enough to join her mother in standing for what they believed.
“Ja,” she said. She clasped Rachel’s hand, and together they stepped out onto the porch, watching as the police car made its way down the lane.
Adam and Daad Jonah moved close so that the four of them stood together. Adam touched her arm lightly. “It’s not too late,” he murmured. “If I tell them . . .”
He let the words die out when she shook her head.
It wasn’t too late to do somethin
g to keep from going to jail. She could agree to marry Adam for all the wrong reasons. Or she could agree to send her daughter for an education she didn’t believe in.
The car came to a halt near the porch. The officer seemed to wait for a moment, as if expecting them to make a move. Then he opened the door and stepped out, settling his cap squarely on his head.
The officer was an older man. With his graying hair and lean, weathered face, he looked more like a farmer than her idea of a police officer. But the weapon in a holster on his hip would convince her if she needed convincing. This was the real thing.
He came to the bottom of the steps and stopped, unfolding a sheet of paper and consulting it. Then he looked from one face to another. “Mrs. Benjamin Lapp?” he asked, though it must be obvious that she was the person he was after.
“I am Mattie Lapp.” Her voice didn’t seem to be attached to her at all.
“Mrs. Lapp, I’m required by law to serve you with this summons. It requires you to send your underage daughter, Rachel Elizabeth Lapp, to the consolidated high school to which she has been assigned. If she is not there tomorrow morning when school begins, you will be in violation of the law and subject to arrest.” He rattled that off in an expressionless voice. Then he stopped and looked at her, and she thought some emotion moved in his eyes. Pity, maybe. “Do you understand what I have said to you?”
She felt the warmth of Adam’s arm brushing against hers and imagined he was trying to send her strength.
“Yes.”
The officer looked embarrassed all at once, and it seemed to make him more human. “Are you sure? Maybe you have questions. If there’s anything . . .”
Mattie shook her head. What was there to say?
“Okay, then.” He handed the paper to her, started to turn away, and then swung back toward her. “You know, if you told me you intended to obey the order, you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”
He was trying to be kind, she realized. “Thank you. But I can’t do that.”
He nodded, as if it was what he expected. “Sorry,” he muttered, and then turned and went quickly to the police car. They stood where they were, not speaking, until he’d turned the vehicle and driven back down the lane.
Mamm Becky erupted onto the porch as Rachel put her arm around her mother’s waist, holding her tight.
“It’s wicked,” Mamm Becky said. She was scolding, probably as a way of holding back tears. “I’ve never heard of anything so wicked. Threatening a widow that way.”
“Hush, Becky. The man was only doing his job.” Daad Jonah put a hand awkwardly on Mattie’s shoulder. “You did real good, Mattie.”
She nodded, holding on to Rachel, trying to think calmly. But her mind seemed to be tumbling ideas around and around until she felt as if they were clanging against her temples. She appreciated their support, really she did. But she needed to think. To absorb everything that was going to happen. If only—
Her gaze touched Adam’s face, and his expression pierced her heart, nearly making her gasp with the strength of it. Pain filled his eyes and tightened his face into a mask. He was suffering more than she’d imagined possible.
Mamm Becky must surely be right. Why would he look that way unless he loved her?
And what did it say about her, that she hurt so much at his pain?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Adam hadn’t slept at all—how could he? He could only hope Mattie had gotten some rest. On his frequent trips around her property during the night, all had been dark and quiet. Even the dog, used to his smell, hadn’t made a sound, but just padded along after him. He and Onkel Jonah had passed each other several times, probably neither of them willing to stay away, even though there had been no disturbances.
Disturbances. He repeated the word bitterly in his mind. What was happening to Mattie today was a far bigger thing than a few smashed vegetables on the road.
He’d come over again at first light to milk the cows and turn them out into the pasture. No sooner had Adam finished than he spotted Onkel Jonah walking toward him, his shoulders stooped as if the weight he carried had become too much for him. Adam stayed where he was until his uncle came up to him.
“You’re here early,” he said, unnecessarily.
Onkel Jonah nodded. “And you. Well, what else would we do on a day like today?”
They stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun make its way over the hills to the east. There wasn’t much to say, just as there was little they could do. No point in saying they’d both take Mattie’s place if they could. They both knew it, and that answer was impossible.
Had their opponents come after Mattie so soon deliberately? Maybe they reasoned that arresting a young widow would show the world that they were serious. Or even frighten the rest of the Leit into obedience, even though they should know better by now, he would think.
“Bishop Thomas should be along soon.” His uncle gazed absently down the lane toward the blacktop road. “He’s bringing the ministers with him. Your aunt and your cousin Emma are coming along behind me from the house.”
“I didn’t know Emma was already here.” His married cousin lived far enough away that she had to bring the buggy on her frequent visits to her folks.
“Ja, she drove over yesterday before dark. Said she couldn’t just sit home while all this was happening, and this way she didn’t have to drive this morning before it was light. She’ll take Anna home with her. We thought it was best. Until . . . well, until Mattie is back again.”
Adam’s heart clenched at the words. How long would it be? How long would they keep Mattie shut up in a cell for following her church’s teaching?
Onkel Jonah seemed to expect a response, so Adam nodded and tried to speak normally. “Emma’s kinder will keep Anna too busy to fret, ain’t so?” His cousin had four younger than six, two of them lively four-year-old twins.
“Ja, I expect so. And some of Mattie’s kin have a driver bringing them over from Littleton.”
“Gut. Maybe it’ll help Mattie to know so many are here with her.”
His uncle surprised him by resting a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “We would do more if we could, ain’t so?”
That went without saying. The trouble was that there was little they could do. Just stand by and try to take the worries of the family off Mattie’s heart.
Light appeared in the kitchen window, and Adam’s heart seemed to jump. “Mattie’s up,” he said, not that he needed to. Jonah would see it as quickly as he did.
“You go on inside,” Onkel Jonah said. “I see Becky and Emma coming. I’ll wait for them.”
His uncle was giving him a last opportunity to be alone with Mattie, he realized, not that it would do any good. He’d certain-sure argue with her if he thought there was a chance of changing her mind, but he knew his Mattie, through and through. She was a gentle soul, but she had decided that this was her trial to bear. She wouldn’t waver now.
When Adam reached the door, he found she’d already unlocked it, obviously knowing he was there and would come in. Mattie turned from putting the coffeepot on the stove as he stepped inside. “You’ll have coffee, ain’t so?”
“Denke.” He wiped his feet thoroughly on the mat, scanning her face. Mattie looked pale, but she seemed composed, as if ready for whatever would come. “Have you spoken to the kinder yet?”
She nodded, setting out mugs and spoons, milk and sugar. “I did. Rachel helped, and the younger ones listen to her. Anna doesn’t grasp much except that Mammi will be away for a few days and she gets to stay with Aunt Emma and her cousins. She’s already packed her bag.”
He managed to produce the smile she seemed to expect. “And what about the boys?”
Mattie shrugged, staring at the coffeepot as if willing it to perk faster. “It’s difficult for them, but I think they understand as well as they can at their age.”
A wave of bitter anger nearly swamped him. “How could any child be expected to understand it? I’m a grown-up, and I certain-sure don’t.”
She swung around as if propelled by his tone. “Adam, you must not feel anger or bitterness. It’s not right. Please, promise me.”
Mattie had made her way to acceptance, he realized. Even confidence. He shouldn’t act in a way that disturbed her. “I’ll try,” he said.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Gut. I knew I could count on you. And anyway, maybe we don’t need to understand. It is enough for unser Leit that we be content in what God sends us.”
The longing to argue surprised him. He couldn’t. He, like Mattie, like the rest of their people, had only to obey and trust, even when they couldn’t see the way. God’s word was the only light they needed for their path.
He wasn’t sure what he’d have said, but he heard the sound of the kinder coming down the stairs. Anna was chattering to Rachel a mile a minute as they entered the kitchen. Rachel, like her mother, was wan but calm, even managing to laugh a little at Anna’s excitement.
A look at the boys told him they weren’t doing as well, especially Nate. His small face was pinched. Even as Adam started toward him, he burst out at his little sister. “Stop talking so much. Don’t you know—”
Adam reached him, put a hand on each boy’s shoulder, and steered them back into the living room. “Komm,” he said. “It’s going to be all right.”
“It’s not.” Nate’s fists clenched. “They are going to take Mammi away and put her in a jail. They—”
“Hush.” Adam squatted, drawing both of the boys close. “Mammi will be home in a few days. She’s going to be fine. No one will harm her there. And you will be taken care of, you know that, don’t you? You have all of us who love you and will take care of you while she’s away.”
Toby, pale and solemn, nodded gravely, but Nate’s face twisted. “I hate it.” He said the words defiantly, and then looked abashed, clearly expecting a reprimand.
Adam held Nate so that he could look into his eyes. “I hate it, too. It’s right to hate injustice, so long as we don’t hate the people, too, ain’t so?”
