“Maybe I can ship you and Gertrude to Montana,” Daniel said to Badger, chuckling. “I can build you two a nice barn all your own, and you can live with me.”
Yet he wondered if he had any reason to return to Montana. After the latest failed attempt to reach Aiden on his cell phone, he began to abandon any hope he and Aiden would patch things up.
One good thing about their relationship ending—Daniel could avoid the shunning.
Or so he assumed.
Either way, the notion provided scant comfort.
He noticed Gertrude and the other buggy horse, Adelaide, were missing from their stalls. Someone must’ve taken them out while he fiddled in the woodshop. His troubles had so absorbed him, he hadn’t even noticed the buggies pulling out of the driveway. A rustling from somewhere in the barn drew him away from Badger. Perhaps whoever had taken the horses had returned.
No surprise to find David toiling in the mule stall. Like Daniel, David had been keeping himself busy, hiding away from the family.
“Working hard again, I see,” Daniel said.
David, bent over the trough, tensed only a moment. Squaring his shoulders, he continued to empty the chow bag in silence.
Growing frustrated with his little brother’s orneriness—and everything else—Daniel edged behind him. “What’s eating you?”
“Nothing’s eating me.” David tossed the empty bag into a corner of the stall. He sounded equally gruff.
“You been acting like a bull at a rodeo since I got here,” Daniel said.
Standing rigid, David faced Daniel with his mouth puckered and a fierce burning in his gray eyes. “When you going back to Montana, anyway? Mark’s wedding is done with.”
“You eager to see me go?” David’s irksome silence egged Daniel on. “What’s going on with you? Tell me. I want to know.”
“You want to know? Okay, I’ll tell you.” David clenched his small hands into fists. “They’re going to shun us.”
“What? No one is going to shun you. What makes you say that?”
“Wayne Fisher’s sister ran off with that Englisher after she got baptized, and the family hasn’t seen her since. And hardly nobody speaks with the family after all these years. They’re the ones who have to suffer the shunning, not her, and she’s the one who went against the Ordnung.”
“I know the Fishers,” Daniel said, his heart near his throat. “I see them at the auctions and flea markets and at church. I see people talk to them. I talked to them before, near recent, last summer when I was here.”
“People say bad things behind their backs.”
“What do they say?”
“They say they’re bad people, and they didn’t do enough to keep her from running off. They’ll say the same bad things about Mom and Dad. About all of us.”
“That’s what’s been bothering you?”
David scrunched up his face. His eyes smoldered. “You’re going to be shunned,” he said. “And we’ll all have to live with it, all but you. You’ll be in Montana. Away from everything. Fishing or whatever you do there, while we suffer. And you don’t even care.”
Daniel swallowed. “You and the family are well regarded here,” he said. “It would take much more than me getting shunned for you to earn the wrath of the community. Besides, I haven’t been shunned. I may not be.”
“You caused too much trouble for everyone,” David went on. “I wish you hadn’t come back.”
“Don’t you see what you’re doing?” Daniel said to him, trying to be the steady eldest brother. “You’re behaving the exact way you worry everyone else might. You’re shunning me because you’re worried about being shunned. Is that fair?”
David scowled, locked his arms across his chest. “That’s a shussly thing to say.” He turned his back to Daniel. “Things would be much easier if that Aiden Cermak hadn’t come here in the first place.”
“You used to near idolize Aiden, if I recall.”
“He’s the reason you left, isn’t it? He tempted you with the modern ways. You don’t want to be plain no more.”
“I live very plainly in Montana.” Daniel labored to keep his poise.
“You got that cell phone and that big truck.”
“Those things don’t matter.”
“They took you away from us.”
“No matter what modern contraptions I have, you’re always going to be my bruder,” Daniel said, wanting to edge closer to David. To assure him some way. “You’re always welcome in my life, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing.” The pleading in his own voice almost alarmed him.
“I hate Aiden Cermak,” David blurted, facing Daniel again. Tears welled in his reddened eyes. “I hate him, and I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s gone forever. I don’t want to see him ever again. And I don’t care if I don’t see you no more, either.” David pushed past Daniel and darted from the barn.
Daniel started after him but halted at the barn door. No point chasing him. He watched his little brother cross the field and disappear into the grove of trees, where he would most likely sulk for a few hours. Seemed many people wanted to run from him lately. He could hardly blame any of them.
Chapter Twenty
ELISABETH was crocheting in the sitting room with the hiss of a lantern on the side table next to her. The gray clouds had already fully covered the sky, and the house had grown dim. She seemed focused on her task. Daniel hoped to sneak by her, but she must’ve seen him beeline for the staircase. She called to him. Sighing, he stopped and faced her. Was he to have a confrontation with Elisabeth too?
“Is everything okay?” she said without hesitation. “You seem upset over something.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Is it Aiden?”
Daniel jerked up. He hadn’t expected her to ask anything so direct. Maybe Aiden had been right. She understood more about their relationship than he was willing to confess. He couldn’t help but inwardly chuckle, looking at Elisabeth with her crocheting across her lap. What truly percolated inside his proper-looking sister’s head?
“I don’t know where he is,” he said, indifferent if his voice sounded heavy with fret. His row with David had exhausted him. He wanted to climb into bed and sleep the world away.
“I could tell you been worrying over something,” Elisabeth said. “Haven’t you been able to reach him on your cell phone?”
Flushing, Daniel shook his head without lifting his eyes.
“I don’t think Aiden would disappear without saying anything.”
He accepted his sister’s words and tried to build on them. But deep down, he harbored little doubt Aiden had left him.
Looking up, he suddenly noticed the house was painfully still. “Where is everyone?”
“They’re all gone,” Elisabeth said. “Mark and Heidi wanted to make more rounds to thank everyone for coming to their wedding. Mom, Dad, and the girls went to Uncle Peter’s for lunch. Mom and the girls are going to help Aunt Anna with her sewing, but Dad said he’d be back early to do some watch repair. Uncle Peter’s supposed to give the others a ride back.”
Daniel stared at the blank white wall behind his sister. He knew little else to say.
Laying aside her crocheting, Elisabeth made to get up from her rocking chair. “Let’s get some tea,” she said.
IN THE kitchen, Elisabeth poured them tea, brushing aside the strings from her kapp as she leaned over the table. Savoring the smell of the chamomile, Daniel sensed Elisabeth wanted to speak to him about something. Was it about him and Aiden? Would she finally tell him everything she had grasped about their relationship? He flushed, wondering. He’d never had an intimate conversation with his sister before, not really. Perhaps now was the time.
“Would you like some pie?” she asked.
“Nay, danke.” Daniel brought the warm teacup to his lips and blew into the hot liquid. Over the rim of the cup, he watched Elisabeth return the teapot to the stove and sit opposite him at the table. He wanted to say something to her but wa
s uncertain how to begin. He was glad when she spoke first.
“Nice to have some quiet,” she said.
“Ya, it is. Did Mom and Dad take Leah and the baby too?” In response to Elisabeth’s nod as she sipped her tea, he said, “That’s goot. You won’t have to worry over them for a while.”
They sipped in silence a moment longer. Finally, Daniel was compelled to say something more. “I spoke with David out in the barn,” he blurted, unsure where his words would carry them.
Elisabeth raised her eyes over her teacup. “For sure that musta been tough. He’s been giving you a hard time of it. We all could tell.”
“Ya.” Daniel paused, pondering what to add. “I found out what’s been bugging him. He thinks if I get shunned, you and everyone will be shunned too.”
Elisabeth set down her teacup and eyed Daniel across the table. Apprehension lined her gentle face. “Is it really that bad, Daniel? Will the ministers insist the community shun you?”
“I figure so, unless….”
“Unless what?”
“Ach, I don’t know.” Daniel shook his head. He lowered his eyes to the table, watched the steam rise from his teacup. The golden liquid of the chamomile reminded him of Aiden’s eyes. Fatigue unexpectedly sapped him of energy. Badly, he wanted to crawl into bed.
Silent a moment, Elisabeth seemed to sense his wanting to change the subject. Rounding her shoulders with her hands firm around her teacup, she said, “You probably always wondered why I never courted anyone, why I never married. I always wanted to tell you. I think now is the time.”
Daniel leveled his gaze at her. Why had she blurted out such a comment? She was right about his being curious. He had wondered for many years why his twenty-four-year-old sister, at about the age of eighteen, had suddenly stopped courting the many interested suitors in the community. With a flush coming over him, he almost wished she wouldn’t continue. He considered ushering in a new topic, but she clearly wanted to press on.
“Do you remember that May about six years ago?” Elisabeth said. “When the minister from that district in Indiana came to Henry for the weekend?”
Daniel nodded, yet his neck seemed made of lumber. He did not really remember. Many ministers visited the different Amish districts scattered across the United States. Henry had seen dozens of them come and go since Daniel was a boy. Tightening his mouth, he listened to what she had to say.
“I never told anyone before,” Elisabeth said, her eyes on her tea. “I figure I was ashamed, unsure how to handle everything. It was right after my eighteenth birthday.” She lingered, her lips parted. Daniel swallowed hard. He almost heard her thoughts. Cringing, he waited.
“Everyone was excited about the visiting minister,” she said finally, fingering the ear of her teacup. “He was handsome, and seemed kind. I didn’t think he even noticed me during church at the Rupp’s. They held services outside that day, remember? It was late May, and God had given us such a wunderbar goot day. Mom and Dad talked to him for a while afterward. He visited the farm after supper. Dad had invited him, I think. I had to excuse myself to milk Dottie. Remember that cow? She was always so stubborn, never liked milking her. I was about finished when Reverend Raber came in.
“No one else was around. Everyone was back in the house. I could hear Grace and Mark—they were mere kinner then—arguing over something shussly on their way back from the henhouse. The reverend walked around the barn a lot, looking at things. All the sudden he started asking me about our farm. I was kinda bashful but answered his questions the best I could. I didn’t want to disrespect a minister.
“He was real interested in the horses. I took him to their stalls and told him their names, how old each one was, and when we got them. Remember Dexter? I told him all about Dexter; how we got him when he was only a colt, from the Troyers, in exchange for our old corn seeder. I felt a little strange, but I figured it was my bashfulness. I always got a little uncomfortable around men. I started to curry brush Dexter to show him how fine his brown coat was. Reverend Raber seemed impressed. He stayed with me in the stall and watched me groom him.
“That’s when he raped me,” Elisabeth said flatly. “When he was finished, he fixed himself up and went back inside the house. He left town the next morning, so I never had to see him again.”
Startled by his sister’s frankness, Daniel gawked at her. His throat caught. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. A mere wisp of breath. Words seemed impossible, too remote for him to utter. How could he possibly respond to such a statement? He sipped more tea, his hand shaking, hoping the hot liquid would loosen his vocal cords. But before he tried to speak, Elisabeth had already continued with her disturbing story.
“I didn’t know what to do right after,” she said. “I stayed in the barn, scared and disbelieving. After a while, I wandered down the lane, too afraid to go back inside the house with him still there. I cut through the Miller farm and ended up at the creek. I fell to my knees. I prayed for God to explain to me what had happened. To make me feel better. I prayed till dark. When I came back, the reverend’s buggy was gone, so I knew it was safe to go inside.”
Daniel would’ve been twenty years old at the time. Still too busy with his selfish rumspringa to have noticed any changes in his sister’s behavior. His stomach smoldered like burning compost. He wanted to cry out, to beg her to forgive him for not being there when she had needed him. Yet her gentle smile perplexed him. He studied her from across the table, wondering how she could be so complacent, so peaceful, while recalling such a traumatic memory.
“I was legal age, according to the English laws,” she went on, “so I wasn’t sure how telling the police would matter. I mean, he didn’t physically hurt me, not too badly. I did what he told me. I didn’t fight back. I would never use violence against another human being for any reason. I upheld the Ordnung, like we been taught. I wasn’t sure the English officials would understand. So, all these years, I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to worry anyone over it. I figured it was God’s will, anyway. I know it sounds strange, even to us Amish, considering what the reverend did to me; but I truly believe. Da Hah willed what happened to guide me to my destiny.”
Daniel sat rigid. God’s will? God’s will to have his sister raped by a man, a man who traveled from different Amish communities throughout the United States, proclaiming to be a disciple of God? Abusing his authority, violating young girls. Daniel realized they were both adults now, no longer children. Seriousness sheathed their lives. No matter how much effort they used to block out the evils of the world, horrible things filtered through. He almost wanted to get sick. Elisabeth must’ve seen the astonishment in his eyes.
“Don’t you understand, Daniel?” she said, her voice soft. “If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be doing what brings me the most happiness today. I wouldn’t have discovered how much I love teaching, helping the kinner. Don’t you see?”
Elisabeth’s voice receded into the background. Daniel stared at the dapples of sunlight on the mahogany floor, only to watch them vanish as quickly as they’d appeared. Everything of value to him seemed to be disappearing before his eyes.
He looked to Elisabeth. Her face was in shadows from her downcast head, yet her blue eyes sparkled.
“I didn’t always feel that way, of course,” she said. “At first, I was angry. I thought that I was cheated out of a life. I wanted to court boys like the others, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried to, I couldn’t face any of them. I was angry how the minister had left me.
“Then I started to see the clues.” The semblance of a smile curved Elisabeth’s lips. “You know how you always talk about looking for God’s clues, Daniel? I tried to look for them, the way you say you do. That’s when I started to spend more time with the kinner in the community, helping whenever I could. I was never happier than when I was with the children. Then everything became clear. I decided to dedicate my life to them. God musta heard my prayers while at the creek. Daniel
, it’s so fine teaching at the schoolhouse. I never woulda learned how much I enjoy it if… if what happened never happened.”
The ensuing silence was too great. Words dribbled from Daniel’s mouth, slowly and painfully. His voice sounded hollow, artificial. “I… I suspect Mom and Dad might know about it. I mean, about what happened.”
Elisabeth lowered her eyes. “The night it happened, Mom and Dad never did ask me where I been after I got back from the creek praying. My dress was kinda a mess with straw and dirt. I figure Mom especially mighta known what happened. Months passed before she looked me in the face. I figure she was relieved I wasn’t with child. I’m not sure she even remembers now. In a way, I hope she doesn’t. I couldn’t imagine the pain of knowing something like that happened to your daughter, and there’s little you can do to change things.”
All Daniel muttered was, “I… I’m glad you were able to get it off your mind and… and make the best of things.”
“Ach, and I never been happier, Daniel.” Elisabeth slapped the tabletop with both hands. “It’s not so bad, being single. The family fulfills things for me a husband could, at least in part. And of course I have more children than I ever imagined.” She laughed. “I guess I coulda got married. But things just didn’t happen that way for me. I’m okay with it. I used to think of the shame I was bringing everyone, being an old maid. But now I realize they wouldn’t be able to get along much without me, especially now with little Leah so ill and baby Gretchen coming along. I think Mom and Dad look at me not getting married as a blessing, although they’d never admit it.”
His need to be alone overpowered him. The world weighed on his back. He had to get out. The tiredness from before had ripened into a dull prodding, like a hot breeze scratching his face. Elisabeth stood.
“There’s one other thing. Wait one moment, ya?” She left the kitchen. Daniel stirred on the bench, unsure what she was up to. A minute later she returned. She handed him a letter-sized piece of paper, folded in two. After she took her seat, Daniel questioned her with his eyes. She grinned, nodded toward the paper in his unsteady hand.
Between Two Promises Page 18
