The River

by Beverly Lewis

Ruth, however, appeared almost nervous. Tilly wondered if her sister was already feeling homesick, realizing their visit was drawing to a close. Or was she simply tense due to this being their first meal together, the four of them? The latter seemed more likely.

  As Tilly had expected, Daed was aloof and only glanced at her now and then, not saying much. She recalled what Mamm had said about Daed’s being upset at God and shuddered a bit.

  Then, without warning, Ruth sat up straight in her chair and announced, “I’d like to stay the week and help Mamm sort things, Tilly.” Ruth looked at her, then at Daed. “If that’s all right.”

  “Why, sure ’tis,” Mamm was quick to say. “But how will you get home?”

  Shyly, Ruth replied, “I’ve thought it over. I’ll take a bus. No need to worry about me.”

  Tilly was baffled beyond words at this sudden news.

  “I’d planned to miss work on Monday anyway, and my boss told me before I left to take extra time if I wanted. I just need to let him know.”

  “Well, wasn’t that nice,” Mamm remarked.

  “You’re welcome to stay, too, Tilly.” Ruth’s eyes were pleading.

  Daed brusquely cleared his throat and looked toward the window.

  He’d rather I was on my way, Tilly thought.

  “Sure, you’re welcome, too, dear,” Mamm chimed in. “Why not sleep on it . . . decide tomorrow, on the Lord’s Day. Wunnerbaar-gut things can happen on His day, ya know.”

  Tilly had heard this plenty of times growing up, but she wasn’t so sure it would prove true in this case.

  “Please think about it.” Ruth reinforced her campaign.

  “Mamm’s right,” Tilly said at last. “I’ll sleep on it.”

  A smile blossomed on Ruth’s face.

  She thinks I’ve decided, Tilly thought, not so amused. Quickly, she changed the subject. “Guess who I ran into at Bird-in-Hand market this afternoon?”

  Mamm looked startled. “You went all the way there today?”

  “Must’ve been Edith Riehl,” Daed said, finally joining in the conversation.

  Tilly nodded. “Yes, and Edie happened to say you were moving soon. I expect that’s the reason for the sorting Ruthie wants to help with.”

  Mamm sighed loudly. “Well, for pity’s sake. The word’s out.” She began to unfold the plan to sort and pack up on Monday through Wednesday, then move to the attached Dawdi Haus on Thursday. “Lord willing, of course.”

  “Jah, if Gott’s hand’s in it, we’ll move just thataway,” Daed said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve cuff. His eyes squinted nearly shut as he looked Tilly’s direction.

  “Melvin’s offered some boxes he has sitting around in the cellar,” Mamm mentioned. “And muscle power, too.”

  “Just don’t walk to Melvin’s through the woodlot after dark,” Daed said, eyes serious as he glanced first at Ruth, then Tilly. “Or anytime, really.” He emphasized this with a deep frown.

  Usually, it was Mamm saying it wasn’t smart to cut through the woodlot. “Better to go out on the road, or around through the pasture,” she’d often advised.

  Tilly had ignored the admonition more times than she cared to disclose, knowing that both alternate routes took longer. She’d never seen anything to worry about in there. But what did she know? Maybe someone had gotten bitten by a woodchuck or a snake.

  “How much work can you really afford to miss, Ruth?” Tilly asked, wondering if her younger sister had money socked away somewhere.

  When Ruth didn’t reply, Tilly decided not to take it up at the table, not with their parents observing. She did intend to get to the bottom of Ruth’s sudden change of plans. It was hard to fathom that Ruth merely wanted to help Mamm and Daed move. There had to be more behind it.

  “Will Kauffman stopped by to return some tools,” Daed said then. “Forgot to mention that earlier.”

  Will was here?

  Tilly wondered if Ruth’s conniving former beau had cornered the poor, vulnerable girl and talked her into taking him back. And looking now at her sister’s blushing red face, Tilly guessed she might be on to something.

  I leave here for a couple of hours, and Ruth’s lured right back to the Plain life.

  Chapter 20

  Feeling out of sorts, Tilly retired early that night. She was so rattled, she didn’t even accept Aunt Naomi’s invitation to sit and have some decaffeinated tea before bedtime. Later, she fretted, unable to sleep, and finally wandered out into the front room and sat there in the dark.

  This can’t be happening. After everything, is Ruth willing to give up her wonderful modern life? Has she forgotten what Will did to her? Does she relish the thought of being totally submissive to someone like him?

  Tilly’s mind ran wild with all sorts of worrisome thoughts. Nighttime hours had a tendency to stir up such thinking.

  Yet truthfully, she was beginning to think her sister had never gotten over Will Kauffman, which was downright confusing. All those letters flying back and forth between her and Ruth, and all the many months of counseling her away from such a young man and his questionable leanings. Was it all for naught?

  Tired, she trudged back to her room and lifted the quilts to get into bed. She fought sleep, even though she was worn out, though more from the energy that went into the stress and frustration of such a day.

  Eventually an idea hit her like lightning, and she sat up in bed. I have to stay, too! To protect Ruthie. Yes, tomorrow she would call Kris and ask his opinion. Surely he won’t mind . . . and neither will his mother.

  “My mother-in-law will be happily running the ship by the time I get back,” Tilly whispered, smiling into the darkness. “But I’ll be here with Ruth, talking sense to her. Like always.”

  Ruth shed her covers and rose to light the small lantern, anxious to write a prayer in her small notebook, something she did when she was this keyed up. Although she had been quick to spout off her wishes, despite what she’d said, she had fears that her job might not still be waiting when she returned to Rockport. Yet staying to help her parents with this transition seemed important, especially now, and she prayed that Tilly might see the light and stay around, too. The extra days might give Tilly and Daed an opportunity to reconnect . . . before his health worsened. At supper, she’d witnessed anew the unspoken tension between her father and sister. Why has it always been that way?

  She began to pray about that, as well as the other things that slipped unbidden into her mind. O Lord, bless Will and his sweetheart . . . give them a good life together. And many little ones, she wrote.

  Then, wanting to do the right thing by her former beau, she decided to hear him out tomorrow after Preaching service and the shared meal. Yes, she would take the high road. It was the gracious thing to do, after all.

  The next morning, Tilly got up, washed, and dressed quickly so she could help Aunt Naomi prepare breakfast for Uncle Abner before the couple headed off to church. Tilly knew for certain she would not be attending the Preaching service up the road. She was far too sleepy to last through such a lengthy meeting.

  “Didn’t ya sleep so gut?” Aunt Naomi asked when she saw Tilly come into the kitchen.

  “Hardly at all.”

  “Guess you’ll be noddin’ off in church, then.”

  “Actually, I’m staying home to rest,” she told her aunt. “If you don’t mind.”

  Aunt Naomi smoothed her gray work dress and apron and gave her a nod. “Well, then you can keep your uncle company, maybe, since he didn’t sleep much either last night.”

  “Is he under the weather?”

  Her aunt explained that he sometimes had bad headaches, but she thought they were caused more by stress than anything. “Growin’ older ain’t so easy,” she told Tilly. “You’ll find out, in another few decades.”

  Tilly wasn’t looking forward to it. “Sure, I’ll be happy to keep him company, if we don’t both fall asleep in our coffee.”

  This brought a big smile to Aunt Naomi’s face. “You should
just go back to bed after breakfast. A full stomach should put you right out,” she said. “I know it does me.” She went on to say she’d been known to fall sound asleep during the sermons, but as far as she knew, folk thought she was just being pious, keeping her head down in prayer.

  “Mammi Lantz used to do the same thing,” Tilly mentioned.

  “Back when you were still Amish?” Naomi said out of the blue. And just as quickly, her dear face turned cherry red. “I didn’t mean . . .” she sputtered.

  “Don’t fret about it, Aendi.” Tilly cracked farm-fresh eggs into a bowl and stirred in some raw milk to make scrambled eggs, Uncle Abner’s favorite.

  “He likes a piece of cheese on top,” Aunt Naomi mentioned. “Guess I’ve spoiled him.”

  “It’s wonderful to be spoiled now and then,” Tilly thought out loud. “That’s something I never really experienced until I married Kris.”

  A peculiar look altered Aunt Naomi’s expression. “You weren’t made over much when you were little?”

  “By Mamm, sure.”

  “Not your Daed, too?”

  “If he did, I don’t remember.” The painful words spilled out.

  “Oh now, Tilly, how could that be?”

  It just was, she thought, recalling all the love Daed showered upon both Ruth and Anna and their brothers. Again, it was simply a fact . . . not something to fuss over. “No need to feel sorry for me,” she told Aunt Naomi.

  “Well, but I do.” Her aunt glanced back over her shoulder at her as she carried coffee to the table. “I truly do.”

  It was enough that someone believed her and didn’t assume that Tilly was sorely mistaken. Always wrong, she thought sadly.

  The church gathering was well attended, but Ruth felt strange sitting in the back row, dressed as she was, though quite modestly by English standards. On the opposite side, to her right, a row of young men in their late teens and early twenties sat together. Will Kauffman and Lloyd Blank were at the far end of the row.

  They must still be friends . . . and on the edge of the church, Ruth thought, aware of someone’s cologne. If Will planned to marry soon—and the girl in his courting buggy was certainly Old Order Amish—then he would be joining church somewhere. Whether or not it was Eden Valley, she had no way of knowing.

  During “Das Loblied”—the praise song and traditional second hymn—she looked about to see if she could spot the pretty young woman she’d seen with Will yesterday in his open carriage—surely a sign they were at least courting, if not engaged. Was she also attending church here today?

  Ruth looked for Tilly, as well, but didn’t see her sitting in back with the other Englishers. She looked up now toward the front to Mamm and two of Mamm’s older sisters. It was fascinating to see the large number of young women with babes in arms—girls she’d grown up with who’d already settled down and married. Are they happy? she wondered, then, chagrined, she realized she was not being reverent. She ought to rein in her thoughts at this holy hour. I’m like an unruly filly!

  After a good long rest, Tilly wandered back downstairs and found Uncle Abner sitting at the kitchen table with his German Biewel open next to his King James. He was practicing his English, and then his German, by doing so. He looked up when she came in, and she noticed he wore a white long-sleeved shirt and a black vest and trousers—his church clothes—in honor of the Lord’s Day even though he’d stayed home. He motioned for her to join him.

  She sat without speaking, feeling somewhat refreshed from the extra sleep following breakfast. She’d definitely eaten more than she was accustomed to at home with Kris and the twins.

  “You look bright-eyed now, Tilly.”

  “Did you rest, too?” she asked quickly.

  “Quite a bit, jah. Not sure what kept me awake last night.” He smiled. “Might’ve been the full moon. I tend to be more wakeful during that phase.”

  “I didn’t sleep that well, either,” she admitted. “Lots on my mind, I guess.”

  “Well, it must be a bit strange comin’ back here,” Abner suggested. “’Specially when there are some sad tokens from things long past.” His solemn look was gentle.

  She didn’t wish to rehash her past troubles relating to Daed. Just the awareness of his standoffishness toward her was difficult enough. And not much seemed to have changed, although he had been a bit more talkative than she’d expected.

  “If ya don’t mind, I’d like to tell you a story,” Uncle Abner said, folding his hands over his German Bible.

  She nodded, interested.

  “I was just a boy, oh, maybe nine or ten,” he began, a smile on his wrinkled face. “I happened to overhear my father talking to the preacher in the stable, and, lo and behold, if it didn’t sound like he was braggin’ on me. He said, ‘Well now, Preacher, I’d have to say my boy Abner’s a mighty hard worker. Dependable, too.’ And right then and there, the Preacher decided, based solely on Dat’s account of me, that he wanted to hire me to groom his road horses.”

  Uncle Abner sighed, the recollection clearly meaningful to him even now. “My father’s opinion of me gave me the determination to always take my work seriously and be responsible. His words changed my life that day, Tilly. I wanted to live up to his expectations. I honestly did. And I hope I have.”

  She wondered why he was telling her this when he must surely know about her own sour father-daughter relationship. “I’ve made it a point to say positive, affirming things to my children,” she told him. “My husband’s the same way with them.”

  “That’s important. Life-changing, really,” Abner said, nodding so his thick beard bumped his chest.

  She was at a loss, still not understanding what he’d intended for her to glean from the story.

  “Your Daed may not have said the kinds of things that made ya want to strive for certain higher qualities,” Abner said. “And for that, you must be willing to forgive him.”

  She hadn’t thought of it quite that way.

  “Your return here, ’specially at this feeble season in your Daed’s life, well . . . it might just be timely.”

  Tilly wasn’t ready yet to put all that aside and forget. But she found it remarkable that her uncle still had that way about him that could peer deep into her heart. “I hear what you’re saying.”

  “Jah, but hearin’ and doin’—are they the same?”

  She sighed. It would have been easier going to church this morning.

  He continued. “I daresay you oughta consider what I’ve told ya. You’ve got less than a day till ya leave for home,” he urged. “Better to make amends before someone passes on than to kick yourself for waitin’ and end up too late.”

  She folded her arms. “I think you know me nearly as well as I know myself.” Even so, she felt pressured.

  Uncle Abner cupped his hand to his ear as though he wanted her to repeat it, sporting that mischievous grin. “What’s that?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll think on it.”

  He reached over and patted her arm. “That’s my girl.”

  Tilly looked away quickly, concealing the start of tears. In spite of the fact that the Lord of heaven and earth never made errors, there had been days years ago when she’d secretly wished—even prayed—that somehow or other God had gotten her and her parents mixed up. That Uncle Abner was, in all truth, her father instead of Daed. In this moment, Tilly felt the same stirrings. “Denki,” she whispered, looking back at him. “I just don’t know how to go about it.”

  “Let me just say that, from what I’ve learned, offering forgiveness doesn’t have to go according to any plan.” He ran his fingers through his bushy beard. “I’d say it’s a matter of the heart.”

  Tilly let his words sink in.

  Later, when she returned to her room and opened her Bible, she was amazed to stumble onto one of the verses her grandmother Lantz had read to her many times when Tilly was little. “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: but if ye f
orgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

  How long will I harbor this bitterness against Daed? she thought forlornly.

  Chapter 21

  At the shared meal following Preaching, Ruth sat with Mamm and across from her grandmother, glad to see Mammi Lantz again. “Denki for the pretty hankies,” she said, pulling one from her purse. She showed it to her mother, pointing out the delicate embroidery.

  “Ach, it looks exactly like one I made for you,” Mamm said to her mother-in-law with a soft laugh.

  Ruth’s grandmother’s face turned nearly as red as a boiled beet. “Well now, I never intended to give away—”

  “Puh! Don’t fret,” Mamm said.

  Ruth was secretly glad for the mix-up. This way, she had something of her grandmother’s, and one that Mamm had made, as well. “I’m just ever so grateful.”

  “To be back in Eden Valley?” Mammi asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “Well, jah, and that, too,” Ruth admitted, holding up the handkerchief again. “I should brush up on my embroidery skills. The stitching on this is nearly perfect.”

  “It’s never too late to pick up where ya left off,” Mammi Lantz said.

  “Why not tomorrow?” Ruth’s mother suggested with a twinkle of a smile.

  “Thought we were going to begin sorting.” Ruth was puzzled.

  “I was teasin’ you,” Mamm said.

  Ruth giggled, happy to be with these two women once more, even for a short while. To think Tilly and I almost stayed away. . . .

  Much later, after apple pie was served, Ruth noticed Will heading for the back door without Lloyd, who was still talking with other young men his age at the end of one of the tables.

  This is my chance, Ruth thought, hoping it wouldn’t appear that she was running after him. In spite of that, she excused herself and nonchalantly slipped outside.

  ———

  Melvin was sipping his black coffee when he noticed Ruth leave by way of the back door. Oddly enough, it wasn’t but a few moments after Wilmer Kauffman had left, as well. There had been rumors some years back that Deacon Kauffman’s grandson was mighty sweet on Ruthie, but then Will quit going to church for the longest time and Ruth left Eden Valley. Melvin hadn’t thought much more about it other than to thank the Good Lord that his sister hadn’t gotten herself hitched up with Will, considering what he’d heard later.