As the King family left the gathering, she pushed back her own ache to talk with her sisters, who shared the backseat of the buggy driven by Jacob. Rose was concerned because she didn’t know how to tell if a boy liked her from the way he acted.
“He clams up when his friends are around,” Rose explained. “But when we were pouring lemonade, he was a chatterbox. He said he could come to our house for dinner sometime.”
“If he wants to come by for dinner, then I’d say Eli Esh fancies you,” Rachel said.
“That’s what I thought.” Rose folded her arms as she sat back in the buggy seat. “But Ben said he’s probably just coming around for Mamm’s pie.”
“Ben is pulling your leg. Such a joker.”
“Hmph.” Rose’s eyes narrowed. “I have half a mind to tell him that Hannah Stoltzfus is only spending time with him because of the music system in his buggy.”
“Now, don’t go tit for tat. Be happy that Eli wants to come to dinner. Maybe Mamm will make her fried chicken when he comes ’round.”
“Maybe.”
“Does Eli like fried chicken?” Molly piped in.
“Everybody likes Mamm’s fried chicken,” Rose assured her.
The smiles of Rachel’s sisters and the clip-clop patter of Pansy’s hooves helped to soothe that cold knot as they headed down the road to cousin Adam King’s farm, where they would be visiting this afternoon. This was a part of the family they were very close to, on account of working together in the cheese business and being just a few miles down the road from each other. A terrible sadness had swept through their family a couple years back when Rachel’s aunt and uncle, Esther and Levi King, had been killed so suddenly in the dead of winter. Those were long days of heartache, but Gott was there to give the family strength for every hill they had to climb.
Cousin Adam and his wife, Remy, were now the heads of the house, though they had plenty of help with the farm and the little ones from older cousins like twenty-three-year-old Jonah; Gabe, who was eighteen; and fifteen-year-old twins Leah and Susie.
As Pansy turned down the lane to the Kings’ farm, Rachel felt her worries ease a bit more at the prospect of seeing her cousin Sadie, her good friend who was back from Philadelphia for a visit. Nineteen-year-old Sadie had left home last summer, and Rachel feared that Sadie might never come back from that different fork in the road.
Mamm and Dat’s buggy was ahead of theirs, and already cousin Simon was patting their horse, getting ready to unhitch and give Banjo a break. Off to the right, Mammi Nell, cousin Mary, and Remy sat at a picnic table, watching as a vigorous game of kickball was being played on the gently sloping green lawn. Rachel searched her cousins for the dear girl who was like a sister to her.
“Sadie!” There she was, running in from third base, her Plain dress flapping to reveal black jeans cuffed to just below her knees.
Sadie glanced up as she stepped on the piece of wood that was home plate. Her face lit up as she spotted her female cousins waving. “Halloo!” Sadie’s call was half a yodel as her arms shot up in a broad wave.
The sight of Rachel’s cousin, running to the barn to meet their buggy, chiseled away at the ache of tension caused by James. Oh, dear James! She didn’t know what she was going to do about him and she feared she had handled things badly today. She couldn’t wait to tell Sadie everything.
There were lots of big smiles and much hugging as Rachel’s family greeted Sadie. Although the rest of Adam’s family had attended church, Sadie didn’t dare, knowing that she was walking a thin line with the ministers. On the one hand, since Sadie wasn’t baptized, there would be no ban—no shunning. But the church leaders were still putting pressure on Adam and Jonah to bring their younger sister back into the fold. Mamm always said that Plain folk were like good shepherds; they never gave up on one of their own.
There was a good amount of commotion and noise as the buggies were unloaded. This was one of the parts of having a big family that Rachel so enjoyed. There were always enough players to make a team, plenty of helping hands in the kitchen, and somehow there was always someone nearby to pick you up when you stumbled.
Taking advantage of the sunshine, everyone stayed outside for a few rounds of kickball, badminton, and Wiffle ball, Rachel’s favorite. As she lined up at the plate, facing her brother Jacob, the pitcher, she recalled how James had taught her to bat. From him, she learned batting stance and follow-through. And she had come to love the satisfying crack of the ball against the bat, even if they were both plastic.
In between games everyone munched on popcorn and hard-boiled Easter eggs and homemade grape juice. Ruthie and Rose prodded Sadie to teach them one of the new church songs she had learned in the Englisher choir, and within minutes, Sadie had the family singing along to a hymn about how Jesus had died on Calvary “just for me.”
When Rachel noticed that Mammi Nell wasn’t singing, she turned to her grandmother. “Don’t you like the new song?”
“I like it just fine,” Nell said, the lenses of her glasses magnifying the creases at the outer edges of her eyes. “But it’s the family singing together—all to the glory of Gott—now, that’s something I want to hear. And I can’t hear you if I’m singing myself.”
Rachel smiled, and Mammi patted her hand. “Go on. Keep singing. It’s a good Easter song.”
Sadie had been blessed with a magnificent voice. With her leading the group, voices rang from hill to dale.
After a few songs, some of the kids decided to hide Easter eggs, and Rachel caught Sadie’s eye across the picnic table. This was their chance to get away for a little talk.
They linked arms and headed off around the house.
“Where you going, Sadie?” asked Sam, Sadie’s youngest brother.
“Down to the pond for a little bit,” Sadie said.
Sam smiled, revealing two missing teeth. “Can we go fishing? Davey and me?”
“I don’t know about fishing,” Sadie said, “but you two can come along.”
Fed by a spring that ran through the corner of the King farm, the pond was actually a wide creek that flowed on to the neighboring property. Rachel sat on a patch of grass and shielded her eyes from the diamonds of light bouncing from the water’s surface. She could see clear through the water to the amber, gold, and gray stones on the bottom, and now and again a dark fish darted away from the shadowed banks. The air smelled of lilac and manure and frozen soil that was softening in the warmth of spring. The sundrenched landscape seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that winter was truly over.
“Fish!” Davey pointed at the water. “The fish are out.” He clapped his hands over his ears. “And we forgot to bring fishing rods!”
Sam put his hands on his knees and leaned closer to the water, curious. “I see them. We need something to catch them. A net.”
Davey removed his black hat. “How about we use this?”
“A fish in a hat?” Sam chuckled.
“We can make a fishing rod out of a stick.”
While the boys remained busy by the water, Rachel told Sadie about her terrible talk with James at the Beilers’. “I’ve been sick about it ever since. I don’t think he really means it, but it’s not my place to talk him out of it.”
“Sounds like you stood up to him, though. Did you really tell him you wouldn’t let him break it off?” Sadie asked.
“Ya, I did. And in front of most of the church members, too.” Rachel groaned. “I was definitely feeling my oats.”
“You were trying to protect something important,” Sadie said. “James may not see it now, but he’ll have a fine wife in you.”
“Right now, marriage is not on his mind.”
“Well, sure. He’s suffered a lot.” Sadie picked at a blade of grass, then snorted. “Did you really tell him three strikes and he was out?”
“Something like that.” Rachel smiled, and then chuckled at the whole situation. Before she knew it, Sadie was laughing along.
“And I thought I was the one th
at gave the folks around here plenty to talk about.”
Rachel slung an arm around her cousin. “Now, you know gossip is forbidden.”
“Ya, but everyone talks.”
“I missed you so!” Rachel rested her head on Sadie’s shoulder, and her cousin gave her a squeeze. “It would be wonderful good to have you visit more often.”
“It’s hard to get away with school and church and my job, taking care of Katherine.” Living among the English, Sadie had a full life, too. When she wasn’t going to school or studying music, she took care of her boyfriend’s grandmother. “And if I visit too much, the bishop will surely come calling on Adam.”
“I know, but I wish you could live closer.”
“Me, too. It’s hard not having family around. And it’s strange, living like an Englisher. With cars and cabs and buses and frozen pasta that cooks in minutes at the touch of a button. Everyone’s in such a hurry, and so many folks won’t even look you in the eye. There’s not a lot of comfort there.”
Rachel turned toward her cousin. Despite the slash of Sadie’s mouth, there was a glimmer of peace in her amber eyes. “But you’re staying in Philly,” Rachel said, guessing. “Because of Mike.”
“Mike is a big part of the reason.” Sadie let out her breath in a sigh. “I feel so very alive when I’m with him. Gott has blessed us with His love, and who could turn their back on that? Ya, I miss the comforts of home, but I am quilting and baking. I taught Katherine, Mike’s grandma, how to knit, and she has quick hands. Mike and I will make a comfortable home. He asked me to marry him as soon as I finish school, and I said yes.”
“Oh, Sadie.” Rachel hugged her. “I’m so happy for you, but sad, too. Joy and tears, all at the same time.”
“I know what that’s about. Some days I wake up and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Sometimes I look around and all the students in my class have their heads down, lost in their cell phones. I think they’re missing life! But there are many things that are easier when you don’t live Plain. Laundry and dishes are a snap. And there’s no milking the cows or building fires.”
“I don’t think I would miss those things,” Rachel said. “You know me. I always try to help in the house so I can miss the milking.”
“Some things never change,” Sadie said.
But as Sadie talked about living in a fancy house with heat and electricity, Rachel realized she could never live that way. Ya, she would like fewer chores and more time to paint. A house closer to town would take away the farming chores, but she had no desire to leave her community or her family. That much, she knew. Even if she sold dozens of paintings and her art blossomed into a profitable business, she would live Plain, under the laws of the Ordnung.
“It’s hard to believe that it was just a year ago when we colored eggs and talked by the woodshed,” Sadie said. “So many things have changed. There’ll be babies born soon, God willing. Our family will be growing.”
“Last Easter, I thought I’d be the one planning to wed this year,” Rachel said. “But the accident changed all that. Sometimes James isn’t himself. A different person.”
“He’s still healing from the accident.” Sadie’s eyes shone with sympathy. “Something like that leaves scars inside and out. But Gott will carry us through our troubles.”
Rachel tucked her dress over her knees and hugged herself as a breeze stirred the strings of her kapp. “One thing I’m sure of: I’m not giving up on him. And I’m done with rumspringa.” She would talk to the bishop about getting ready for baptism. All the doubts that had gnawed at her last year were gone now. “I can see a clear path. There’s no other fella I want to be courting. My heart belongs to James.”
“Well, it’s good to have that much settled.” Sadie patted her arm. “Sooner or later, he’ll come around.”
Rachel hoped and prayed that Sadie was right.
“Look here!” cried a cheery voice from the pond.
Little Sam was holding a fishing pole with both hands, tugging it up and down as if he were wrangling a fat fish at the end of the line. “I caught a whopper!”
Behind Sam, Davey laughed so hard, he hugged his sides.
“Where did he get the fishing pole?” Sadie asked as the girls jumped to their feet.
“Looks like he made it.” As she got a closer look, Rachel realized the makeshift pole was just a long stick with a string of stripped ivy attached. The little ones were so creative.
“That’s quite a catch,” Sadie said, eyeing the bundle of fat leaves that flopped around on the ground whenever Sam gave the stick a tug. “I’m looking forward to frying that one up for dinner.”
Davey giggled again. “You don’t want to eat leaves!”
“He’s right,” Rachel teased. “The stems stick in your teeth.”
The sky beyond the barn was ablaze with orange and red, a sunset that made James stop and thank Gott for this beautiful orchard. Inside the barn, his brothers were selecting horses to hitch up to three individual buggies. It was a rite of passage for a young man to bring his own buggy to a singing. If the night worked out good, a fella used his buggy to drive a young woman home. With that tradition in mind, James had turned down his brothers’ offer to drive him to the singing, strapping his wheelchair to the back of the buggy.
“It’s about time you came to a singing,” Matt had said. “Everybody asks about you, and you’ve been out of the rehab center for a while now.”
“Come with us, James.” Luke’s youthful face had been earnest. “You can ride in my buggy.”
“Alongside you and Deb? That would really cramp your style,” James had insisted. “I’m happy here, where I can move around on my own without relying on anybody.”
“We don’t mind lifting you in and out of the buggy,” Peter said. “That’s what brothers are for.”
“You go on. I’m better off here.” And before they could argue further, James had wheeled himself out of the barn to the path.
Since he hadn’t the time to make his daily trip that morning, James decided to head to the sugar shack now. It would be dark by the time he returned, but he enjoyed the stillness amid the neat rows of trees in the orchard at night.
It took a good twenty minutes for him to reach the back acres of the orchard, but the doctors and therapists agreed that a trip like this was a good thing to build upper body strength and stamina. As he approached the small shack, he thought of the many hours he had spent there over the years. During the maple-sugaring season, there were always buckets to clean, sap to filter. And then there was the most time-consuming process of cooking the maple sap down to sweet syrup.
James was sorry Dat had decided not to collect the sap this year. Surely, Luke or Peter could have figured out which of the trees in the woods were silver maples. And drilling into the trees to insert the taps was a simple process. If his brothers had gotten the spiles in back in February, the family would be having fresh maple syrup on their pancakes, with enough spare syrup to sell it by the bottle.
But there was no use longing for something that was not to be. James, of all people, should know that by now.
As James rolled close to the shack, its dried wood silvery in the low light of dusk, he realized that he had miscalculated. Night was falling fast. He was about to turn back when he saw that the door to the shack was open and light glowed inside. Were some of the younger kids playing in here?
“Who’s there?” he called, moving toward the rectangle of light.
Although there was no answer, the figure of a person sitting on the wooden bench was clear as he rolled up to the door. The glow of the lantern illuminated the girl’s face and cast a silvery glow around her dark head. A halo.
For a moment he thought of the angels mentioned in the Bible. Today was Easter Sunday, and the picture of Jesus rising from the tomb was fresh in his mind.
But unless angels now wore blue jeans and jackets, this was just an Englisher girl. Ya, it was just a girl … a young woman. The halo was actually the
circle of light from the lamp, along with gems sparkling from her ears. Her arms were wrapped tight around her knees, and her eyes were round with fear.
“Hi,” she said. “How’s it going?”
What kind of question was that? She had a young face: the round, innocent eyes of a baby deer, a button nose, thick lips that puckered in worry.
He paused in the doorway and squinted into the shadows, looking for others. He didn’t want trouble. Sometimes kids and wanderers came through these parts. His parents usually offered them some food and sent them on their way. This one seemed to be alone.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“To be honest, I stayed here last night.” Her voice held a calm that didn’t come through in her eyes. “It was late, and I needed to sleep.” She shrugged. “Sorry if I’m trespassing. I was planning to sleep outside, like camping, but when I saw this place, I couldn’t resist. Is this your house?”
He shook his head. “This is my family’s orchard. Most years, we use this building for sugaring maple syrup.”
“I thought it was something like that, seeing all the buckets and all the burners on the stove.” She spoke lightly, as if they were two old friends who’d met in town.
He took in the room as she talked. The floor and walls had been swept. Red coals glowed in the stove. She sat on a dark red sleeping bag that had been spread out on the wide bench. From the bucket of water heating on the stove, it was clear that she’d found the pump. There was no harm done here. In fact, she had made the shack good and tidy. But she had to go. Dat would not abide any more Englishers at the orchard.
“Why aren’t you making maple syrup this year?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Is there something wrong with the trees?”
“The trees are fine,” he said. “How did you find the sugar shack?” It was at the back of the property, well secluded.
“That, I think, was luck, or else God took mercy on me and led me here. I needed a place to hole up, a place to hide, really, and for some reason, I turned off the main road in the dark last night, and I landed here.” She brushed her dark hair back off her face and cocked her head to one side. When she looked him in the eye, he could see that she wasn’t quite a woman. A teen, older than his sister Verena, but not old enough to be wandering the countryside alone. “I’m Shandell, by the way. Shandell Darby.”
A Simple Hope Page 10
