“At least I had enough sense to leave that Englisha stuff out there,” Lydia snapped. “If you two get too silly, you’ll never make your way back into the faith.”
“Maybe we don’t want to,” Emma said with a glare. “Look how we work ourselves to the bone when a little electricity in the house would save so much labor. Benny Coon’s sister, Avery, had us in her house for a party last weekend, and you should have seen all the fancy things she has. Even the clothes dryer is inside the house and runs on electricity.”
“You should be ashamed of yourselves with such talk!” Lydia said, trying to keep the tension out of her voice. “You’re supposed to taste the things of the world and get them out of your system, not get used to them or bring them home with you.”
“Speak for yourself.” Rhoda gave Lydia a rebellious look. “Be thankful we made supper so you can work on that new dress to impress Ezra Wagler with tomorrow.”
Lydia winced but kept the confidence in her voice. “Yah, and maybe I’ll be sewing his shirts soon—if the two of you don’t destroy the family’s reputation first.”
The two girls were silent, and Lydia refrained from any further protest. Where was Mamm? Without Mamm around, Lydia always seemed to stoop to silly arguments with her younger sisters. If her two older sisters, Lucy and Betty, were still at home instead of married, they’d know how to handle Emma and Rhoda. Lucy was wise beyond her years and a true asset to the family’s standing in the community. And Betty had married Bishop Henry’s son, Lonnie. Lydia could never match the reputations of her older sisters, but that didn’t mean she had to descend to Emma and Rhoda’s level.
“I’m going to find Mamm,” Lydia mumbled. The two girls giggled as Lydia walked off. Clearly Emma and Rhoda thought they held the high ground. More like the low ground, Lydia told herself. But she had other concerns at the moment. Why was Deacon Schrock there? That question still wasn’t answered. Her sisters acted too confident. They obviously hadn’t done anything wrong—at least that they knew of.
Lydia peeked out of the living room window again as she passed. Daett had his head bowed, and Deacon Schrock appeared to be in the middle of a lecture. Could Daett have done something wrong after all? Fear stabbed at Lydia. But what could that be? Daett didn’t bend the ordnung in any way, and both of her parents gave the community their full support. Betty couldn’t have married Bishop Henry’s son under any other circumstances.
Lydia opened the stair door and glanced up the steps. Only silence greeted her, so Mamm must have finished the Saturday cleaning and was no longer upstairs. Had Mamm gone outside? Maybe she was in the garden? But that was unlike her on a Saturday evening. Lydia closed the door but paused to listen. She had heard something—a faint sob coming from the first-floor bedroom. Lydia held her breath as she tiptoed in that direction. Did Mamm know why Deacon Schrock was there?
The bedroom door was ajar, and Lydia entered to find Mamm seated on the edge of the bed, her face in her hands.
“Mamm, what’s wrong?” Lydia sat down beside her.
“We’re ruined,” Mamm whispered.
“Ruined?” Lydia tried to breathe. “Why are we ruined?”
“We just are. That’s why Deacon Schrock is here.” Mamm stifled a sob.
Lydia gripped Mamm’s arm. “How can we be ruined?”
Mamm stared blankly across the room. “Daett made some bad business investments and all our savings are gone. He still owes much more than we can ever pay back.” Mamm placed her head back in her hands, but the sobs had ceased.
“But Mamm.” Lydia slipped her arm around Mamm’s shoulder. “Deacon Schrock is here to help in our time of trouble. You mustn’t let this shame overcome you. Others in the community have had financial problems. It’s not like this is—”
Mamm stopped Lydia with a shake of her head. “Deacon Schrock isn’t here to help, not after Daett tells him everything.”
“There’s shame, yah,” Lydia allowed. “But you shouldn’t take this so hard. Money isn’t everything. You know this.”
Mamm lifted her face and sat up straight on the bed. “The shame is too great. Daett is telling the deacon because he must. I didn’t want him to, but I know that’s not possible. Not if we’re to get support from the church, which we must. We can’t go bankrupt. That would bring an even greater shame on the community.”
“I still don’t understand,” Lydia said. “But then what do I know about money?”
“Thank the Lord you don’t,” Mamm whispered. “I have learned so many things the past few weeks that I think my hair must have all turned white.”
Lydia glanced over at Mamm’s hair. “Your hair is not white,” she said as she reached over to hug Mamm. “It will turn out okay, I’m sure.”
Mamm didn’t look convinced as she got up from the bed, wiped her eyes, and headed toward the kitchen with Lydia following her. Thankfully Emma had begun to hum the Sunday morning praise song by the time they walked in, and Mamm joined in the supper preparations as if nothing was wrong.
Lydia returned to working on the new dress she had started that morning. She focused on the pieces of cloth as the foot-pedaled sewing machine hummed under her. Emma and Rhoda had been correct about her interest in Ezra. Her failure to keep Ezra’s attention at the youth gathering this week troubled her more than her family’s financial problems. Ezra couldn’t go on forever in his undecided state. If she wore a new dress this Sunday at the services, it might push him in her direction. Of course, Sandra likely had the same idea. They thought alike in most areas—maddeningly so.
The sewing machine hummed again. This competition was so silly and beneath both of them, Lydia told herself. Maybe the seriousness of Deacon Schrock’s visit would stop some of this foolishness. Sandra would certainly find out about her family’s problems—eventually, at least. Maybe she should have a talk with Sandra on Sunday to settle the matter of Ezra between them. But how would they do such a thing? They had never been able to settle even the simplest matter before. Now their competition involved love. You couldn’t divide a man’s heart, or your own, for that matter. They both couldn’t marry Ezra, so one of them would have to back down. But who? She wasn’t ready to give in, and she was sure the same was true of Sandra. They both wanted Ezra’s hand in marriage. A King Solomon was needed to decide between them, but King Solomon had long ago passed from the earth.
Behind Lydia, Emma and Rhoda burst out of the kitchen and raced upstairs. Moments later they came back with carry-on bags in their hands.
“Have fun tonight working on that dress,” Emma chirped. “’Cause we’re sure going to have fun!”
“Behave yourselves,” Lydia chided, but both of them were already out the door. Her sisters had some nerve to set out in their open buggy right in front of Deacon Schrock. She would have waited until Deacon Schrock had left before dashing outside, broadcasting her intentions for the evening. Not that Deacon Schrock disapproved of a rumspringa time, but a little discretion was called for. That was a lesson her younger sisters had obviously failed to learn. Lydia laid down the dress with a sigh. She would finish after supper when things had calmed down. Whatever the extent of the problem Daett was discussing with Deacon Schrock, his mood wouldn’t be improved by his two youngest daughters spiritedly bursting out of the house to set out for a night on the town.
Lydia peeked out of the drapes again. Sure enough, Daett still stood with his head bowed as Deacon Schrock glared in the direction of her sisters. Daett made no effort to help Emma and Rhoda as they giggled and hitched Archer, the oldest driving horse, to the open buggy. Emma and Rhoda soon climbed in and drove off, without a backward glance.
Chapter Three
On Sunday Sandra Troyer stood with the long line of single girls near the kitchen doorway. Bishop Henry had walked in the front door moments earlier, and the church service was about to begin. Sandra smiled across the room to where the unmarried men were seated. Ezra Wagler returned her smile at once. He appeared extra handsome in his black sui
t pants and vest this morning. She had noticed Ezra in his new suit several Sundays ago at the fall communion.
Ezra’s mamm had a firm conviction on how her men should be dressed, and a new suit every year was on her list of family traditions. Today, Ezra’s suit had lost none of its shine. And neither had Ezra. Yah, she would marry the man someday, Sandra vowed. And why couldn’t she? The competition with Lydia had always been a fifty-fifty chance, but she would try her best. Her very best!
Sandra gave Ezra another warm smile as she took her seat with the other girls. Not a crease was out of place on her dark green dress, which she had sewn together yesterday. She had taken extra care this morning on the way to church. Mark, her older brother, had expected her to help hitch his driving horse, Dixie, to the buggy, and she had obliged him. Thankfully Dixie wasn’t like some horses who shed hair for no reason, and Sandra’s shawl had served as protection on the drive to church.
“You look pretty this morning,” Mark had commented.
“Thanks. I’m surprised you noticed,” Sandra answered.
“You don’t have to wear a new dress every Sunday,” Mark grumbled. “You’re goot-looking enough in your own right.”
She had beamed at him. “This Sunday is important.”
Mark appeared befuddled, but asked no further questions about why this Sunday was special. But it was. Something big would happen today. How she knew, she wasn’t certain. Maybe the humiliation she had suffered last week at the youth workday with her hands all dirt-smeared and her face streaked with mud brought on the feeling.
On the bright side, Ezra hadn’t seemed to mind. He had been as friendly as ever, and had spent more time with her than with Lydia, who worked all evening on a fencerow with Rosemary. Maybe her time had arrived, and Ezra would make up his mind.
And even if he didn’t, Ezra deserved extra smiles for his consideration last week, and she had given them to him this morning. Ezra had seen her at her worst, and now Ezra was seeing her at her best. The only fly in the ointment was that Lydia must have had the same idea.
As Sandra made herself comfortable on the hard bench, she noticed Lydia sitting half a bench down in a new dark blue dress that appeared as beautiful and well-made as hers. Which wasn’t a surprise. They were well-matched in most things. She had the sunny disposition and the gift of gab, while Lydia had the hidden graces, as Mamm said. Sandra was impatient, but Lydia seemed to take Ezra’s indecision in stride.
Maybe this afternoon Ezra would ask to take her home from the hymn singing tonight. Sandra clasped and unclasped her hands as the service began. Maybe this final competition with Lydia would even be solved by evening. Lydia would be disappointed, but that couldn’t be helped. She, Sandra, was the best match for Ezra. They were the perfect couple. Totally perfect!
Sandra tried to catch Ezra’s gaze again, but he was lost in the sea of men seated across the room. Not until she stood at the conclusion of the service did Ezra’s smile find hers again. Ezra had smiled at her first this time, Sandra assured herself. Yah, something special would happen today. She took a deep breath as the group of girls entered the crowded kitchen, where everyone chattered as they received their assignments on where to help with lunch.
Sandra slipped up to Bishop Henry’s frau, Lena, and whispered, “I’ll take the unmarried men’s table.”
Lena smiled but didn’t object. She handed Sandra two peanut butter bowls. “That should get you started.”
“Thanks.” Sandra gave Lena a quick smile.
Her interest in Ezra wasn’t shameful, Sandra assured herself. Nor was her offer to serve the unmarried men’s table. This would give her a chance to speak with Ezra—and the other unmarried men. It couldn’t hurt if Ezra was reminded that she had other chances, even if she didn’t take them. The newcomer, Clyde from Holmes County, was handsome enough. His daett was a widower and had recently moved into the community. Clyde had sent glances her way several times already—glances she had ignored.
Sandra held the peanut butter bowls high as several smaller children looked up hungrily.
“Go find where your daett’s sitting.” Sandra paused long enough to whisper to them. “He might take you with him to the first table.” Several of them scurried off to follow Sandra’s suggestion.
The unmarried men’s table was set up in the back bedroom, and Sandra paused near the door when Bishop Henry’s voice called for the first prayer. She bowed her head along with everyone else. When the “Amen” came, Sandra bounced into the room. Several of the men looked up, and one hollered out, “Howdy there, Sandra. At least we have a server today. I thought they’d forgotten about us.”
“You know no one forgets about you, James,” Sandra teased back. “And they wouldn’t leave a table full of such handsome young men to suffer hunger.”
Laughter filled the table, and Ezra looked up with a twinkle in his eye. “And to think that we have one of the prettiest girls to serve our table. What an honor.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” Sandra beamed in Ezra’s direction.
Loud throat-clearing came from several of the men, and protests of, “Please do your courting tonight after the hymn singing.”
Sandra joined in the laughter. “Don’t eat too much while I’m gone,” she chided. “I’ll be right back.”
Two other girls came into the bedroom when Sandra stepped through the doorway. Thankfully Lydia wasn’t among them. Lydia wasn’t bold like Sandra was, but Lydia had other charms that she had no compunction to deploy. Likely Lydia would try to sneak out early once Ezra went out to hitch up his horse and engage him in conversation—all under some innocent pretext, of course. They both had their different ways to attract Ezra’s attentions. But surely Ezra would soon see that Sandra’s way was the best. She would make the man happy as his frau. And even before that, she was sure they would be the bubbliest couple in the community—if only Ezra could be brought to his senses. Surely he enjoyed her conversation and light banter. Wasn’t that a goot enough reason to see more of each other? What better way to spend this winter’s cold Sunday evenings than to gather around the pot-bellied stove in the living room of their place on Madrid Road and play backgammon and Monopoly? Ezra was goot at all those board games. She had played with him often enough at the youth gatherings to know. And once married they could laugh and tell each other stories as their kinner grew up around them.
Sandra hurried past the married men’s table on her way back to the kitchen, but a low whisper stopped her. Sandra turned to see her daett motioning for her to come closer. As she approached and bent over with a warm smile, he whispered, “Get your mamm. Tell her I have to leave for home right now.”
Sandra stood up and stared at daett. His face appeared pale under his lengthy beard and his hands were shaking. “Daett, what’s wrong?” Sandra reached down to hold his arm.
He attempted to smile. “I’d best be going home. I don’t feel well.”
But this is unthinkable, Sandra almost said, but caught herself.
Daett must have read her thoughts. “I know,” he said. He dropped his fork and groaned. “The meal isn’t done, but I must go home.”
Several other men must have overheard the conversation and now turned toward Daett with concerned looks. Daett groaned again and held onto the edge of the table with both hands. Sandra left them to hurry over to the women’s table. Mamm was in the middle of a conversation with Lena, Bishop Henry’s frau.
Sandra interrupted. “Mamm, you must come. Daett is ill.”
Alarm filled Mamm’s face. “Acht!” she exclaimed. “We should have stayed home today. Emil hasn’t been feeling well all morning.”
“Is it something serious?” Lena glanced back across the room toward the men’s table, where at least five men had gathered around Daett. “You had best go, Edna.” Lena prodded Mamm with her hand.
Mamm stood and hurried toward Daett with Sandra following, but Mamm was quickly swallowed from sight amongst the gathered circle of men. As Sandra waited
a hand came around her shoulder, and Lydia’s voice whispered in Sandra’s ear. “What’s going on?”
“Daett is sick. We need to go home,” Sandra said.
“We should pray,” Lydia said firmly.
Sandra lowered her head and listened to Lydia’s whispered prayer. She couldn’t understand the words, but thankfulness and peace crept over her. They might be rivals in everything from schoolwork to boyfriends, but when trouble showed up, they were still cousins who lived on the same road and stood by each other.
Sandra slipped her hand around Lydia’s shoulder and pulled her close. Lydia finished her prayer and met Sandra’s glance with a soft smile. “My daett has some problems too. The deacon stopped by to talk with him last night about financial things, but they wouldn’t tell me the details.”
Sandra nodded. They understood each other well. This was how it always had been. She leaned over to whisper, “You have a nice dress on this morning. It looks goot.”
“And so do you,” Lydia whispered back.
Sandra smiled but the smile faded seconds later. The circle of men around Daett had parted to reveal his form lying on the bench, supported on each side by three of the men. Mamm was on her knees in front of him, with Daett’s head cupped in both of her hands.
“Move back, everyone,” someone ordered. “Emil needs air.”
Bishop Henry hurried to the front door and swung it open. He grabbed a hat off the floor and fanned the room. The other men lifted Daett, and the bench was pulled out from under him.
“Someone bring a blanket,” the same voice ordered. A blanket appeared at once from the bedroom and was slid under Daett. The men lowered him to the floor.
Sandra stared. Daett was more than a little ill. This was serious. Lydia’s hand tightened on Sandra’s arm, which only made things worse. Lydia had come to the same conclusion.
“Someone should call for the Englisha doctor,” the authoritative man’s voice spoke again.
Bishop Henry hesitated only a moment before he motioned to one of the younger men. Mose Graber hurried out the open front door and ran once he was in the yard.
A Heart Once Broken Page 2
