Faith and Hope in Lancaster (The Amish of Lancaster County #1)

by Fields, Daisy

  Well, Miriam thought, aside from the lack of privacy, that part hadn’t been so bad. And the Roths were eager to entertain her. They’d brushed off her protests about being tired and fed her Indian takeout, something they called saag paneer and chana masala. The unfamiliar spices had overloaded her tongue, making her head reel, and the food burned her mouth. At first, she hated it, but she didn’t want to be impolite, so she kept eating.

  Oddly, the more she ate, the less she disliked it. She couldn’t say she loved Indian food, but she didn’t hate it, either. In fact, she was proud of herself for trying something so strange. She wasn’t sure the rest of her family could have done that.

  “Miriam?” her mamm asked, breaking into her thoughts. Miriam realized she hadn’t said anything for a few minutes. “Are you there, my girl?”

  “Oh, sorry! I was just thinking what to tell you about first.” Miriam quickly launched into a story about watching television with the Roths. They’d put on a movie, which Pamela claimed had won award after award. None of those names meant anything to Miriam, but she was entranced by the film itself. Her sister Annie had talked about movies, and Miriam had been delighted.

  But unlike Annie, she didn’t want to be an actress. “Mamm, it’s so exciting! This is where people write stories.”

  “Hmm,” said Hannah. “Well, be careful, and be certain you thank your host family for everything, all right?”

  “Of course not,” Miriam said. Now she didn’t feel so homesick anymore. “They’re taking me roller-skating today! On a real ice rink! And then we’re getting ice cream.”

  “That does sound wonderful,” her mother admitted. “Just . . . don’t forget your nightly prayers.”

  “Of course not,” Miriam said again, feeling impatient. “Mamm, they’re waiting for me. I’d better go, but I’ll call you again soon!”

  “Wait,” said her mother. “Here’s your daed. Let him hear your voice.”

  “We love you, daughter,” her daed said. He sounded far away, too far. “Be a good girl, okay? And let us know if you need anything.”

  Miriam felt her throat choking up. Before she could cry, she agreed and pressed the END CALL button. She could almost hear the connection between her family and her snap.

  A hand touched her arm. “Is everything okay?” Pamela asked gently. She held out a bright red mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

  Miriam blinked her tears away. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Weren’t you going to show me how to use the microwave?”

  * * *

  Annie had run off as soon as her parents took Miriam’s call. Her stomach roiled. What was Jacob doing at her house?

  She had to catch him before her parents got back. She was not about to let Jacob ruin things for her.

  Something told her he would still be waiting there for her. She ran faster, her heavy shoes sticking and making belching sounds in the mud.

  Her house came into sight, and sure enough, there he was, cockily sitting on her porch as if someone had invited him. All he needed, she thought wryly, was a cold glass of freshly pressed lemonade. Which she was not about to give him.

  “What do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded.

  Jacob leaped to his feet. “I could ask you the same thing. What do you think you’re doing?”

  A shiver ran through Annie at the sight of him. His bold green eyes pierced her, and though she tried to suppress the memory, she couldn’t keep from recalling the kiss they’d shared in vivid detail. His mouth had been so soft and warm, and she’d known in a way she couldn’t explain that it wasn’t just a kiss to him. It was . . . a promise?

  Her lips tingled with the ghost of his mouth against them, and she couldn’t help her involuntary intake of breath. He must have heard, because his eyes dropped to her mouth, and he swallowed hard.

  She dropped her gaze to her feet. This was too much. Much too much. “Jacob,” she whispered, her voice barely a whisper, “this—this is . . .”

  “What are you doing?” he burst out.

  Her head jerked up. “What am I doing?”

  “Yes,” he said, standing and taking her hands in his. “What are you doing? I have been waiting to talk to you, but you’ve been avoiding me since you returned from your rumspringa.”

  “Talk—talk to me?” Annie’s heart stuttered the same way her words were. She kept her head bowed, her eyes on their clasped hands, and tried not to think about how warm his hands were. Stephen’s palms were callused, but despite the work Jacob did with engines, his were delightfully smooth. “Why?”

  “Yes.” Jacob squeezed her hands, so Annie had no choice but to look up and meet his gaze. She forgot to breathe. She’d forgotten how handsome he was, how strong—the qualities that had drawn her to him beneath the tree that day . . .

  “You can’t marry Stephen.”

  The words, so frankly spoken, pulled Annie right out of her daze. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, yanking her hands out of his grasp. His smooth, warm, confident grasp, her mind pointed out.

  “Annie, it’s always been you and me. You know that.”

  “I do?” Annie’s head spun. Where was all this coming from?

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You watched me as much as I watched you. You told me your secrets, your dreams. Who else but me knew you wanted to be an actress?”

  “But . . . but you—” Annie didn’t know how to complete the sentence. She had told him that. She hadn’t thought it had meant anything. But Jacob had kept her secret, and even more surprisingly, he hadn’t laughed. He had just listened like she was the most interesting person in all the world.

  Dear God, she prayed, I’m so confused. Please guide me to understanding and the correct way forward.

  “But I’m not good enough for you, is that it?” Jacob’s voice was bitter. “Not after you ran off to the big city?”

  Annie whirled on him. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you be good enough for me?” Even as the words tumbled from her mouth, she wondered why she cared. She was engaged to be married to Stephen, after all.

  “I wanted to go with you to New York City,” he confessed. “But my daed needed me here to help out with the business. He didn’t want anyone to know he was ill.”

  Annie’s mouth fell open. “He was?”

  Jacob nodded soberly. “Yes. He’d been having terrible headaches and tummy trouble, and I think it was because he was trying to do too much himself. So I stayed behind and helped him.”

  “You never went on rumspringa,” Annie concluded, feeling stupid. She’d been so busy trying to avoid him, she hadn’t given any thought to what he’d done while she was away.

  “But I would have gone, Annie, if it had been anything else.” Jacob took his face in her hands. “Don’t you see? I would have gone anywhere you wanted. I still would.”

  Annie blinked rapidly. “I don’t—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Annie, if you still want to go to New York City and become an actress, I’ll come with you,” Jacob said in a rush. “I love you, Annie. I always have.”

  Goose bumps rose all over Annie’s body. A thrill ran through her. He loved her?

  Before she knew what was happening, she had leaned forward, and Jacob, who still held her face in his strong hands, also leaned forward, and their lips met. It was as sweet as it had been beneath the tree, and Annie’s heart pounded wildly, deliciously.

  “Annie!” a horrified voice called. “Annie, what are you doing? Stop that right now!”

  Annie and Jacob jumped apart, and time rushed back in to fill the void. Her heart now pounding painfully, Annie took a deep breath and met her mother’s disappointed eyes.

  * * *

  Hannah didn’t even look at Jacob. “Go home,” she told him, and he at least had the sense to do that much, departing without a word. Her attention was for her daughter, who stared at the porch floor with a defiant look on her face.

  Hannah pulled Annie i
nto the house and shut the door firmly behind them. She ran through and discarded three different approaches, all of them too angry to be of use.

  “Why?” Hannah asked finally. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are I was the one who found you and not one of the other ladies in the village? Or anyone at all?” Her hand flew to her mouth. “What if Stephen had caught you like this?”

  The color drained out of Annie’s face, leaving her frail and ghostly. Like a spirit, Hannah thought. “Oh, Mamm, I don’t know what I would have done!”

  “Well, be glad you didn’t have to find out,” Hannah said sharply. Fear for her daughter’s future left her breathless. “This is the kind of silly nonsense you might do during rumspringa, but you’re a woman now. Do you really want to be shunned for immoral behavior? For leading on a man any young woman would be lucky to have?”

  Annie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not leading anyone on!”

  Hannah threw up her hands. “Then what do you call it, daughter?”

  “I don’t know, Mamm, I swear! I just . . .” Annie abruptly dropped to the porch in a crouch, her hands covering her face.

  Hannah knelt beside her daughter and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You just what?” she encouraged.

  “I just . . .” Annie wrung her hands. “Part of me wants to marry Stephen, but—”

  “Yes?” Hannah squeezed Annie’s shoulder. “You can always confide in me, my daughter. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll figure it out together.”

  “Part of me thinks he’s so boring!” Annie gasped as the words left her mouth. “I didn’t mean that!”

  “Yes, you did.” Hannah sighed. “You did.” She took hold of Annie’s arm. “Into the kitchen. There’s a noontime meal to prepare yet.”

  Together, they assembled a chicken corn soup, sliced and roasted beets, and spread thick slices of fresh bread with apple butter. Hannah kept one eye on her daughter the entire time. Cooking seemed to help Annie ground herself; her color returned to normal, and she even smiled once or twice.

  When Hannah was satisfied Annie had fully collected herself, she asked her next question. “Are you sure Stephen is what you find so boring?” She swept an arm around the kitchen. “Or is it something else?”

  Annie’s tentative smile immediately disappeared. “What do you mean, Mamm?”

  Hannah washed her hands, then pulled the postcard Annie had given her out of her apron pocket. “Are you feeling envious that it’s Miriam’s turn to be out in the world, while you’re here, living a Plain life?”

  Annie’s mouth twisted into a strange expression, a cross between a smile and a frown, but she didn’t reply.

  Hannah put her arms around her daughter. “You don’t have to answer me right now. In fact, you don’t have to answer me at all. What I would like for you to do is to pray about this.”

  Annie’s lip turned down. “You won’t tell Daed, will you?”

  “No, I see no reason for Daed to know about this. Everyone makes mistakes. But can you promise me you will pray about it? Ask God to show you the way in your heart.”

  Annie nodded, her face alight with relief.

  “There is always an answer, my girl. You just have to get out of your own way and let God show you the path.”

  “All right, Mamm. I promise.”

  Hannah smiled. “Wonderful! Why don’t you call your brother and your daed in for lunch?”

  Once Annie was outside, Hannah allowed herself to slump against the counter. She’d barely held back all the worries swirling around inside her. She’d known something was wrong, that Annie’s heart hadn’t truly been in the engagement. But she hadn’t expected this.

  A lack of enthusiasm could be handled. With no distractions, Annie could come to love Stephen fully in time and to forget her fancies of an exciting, unpredictable life. A life full of drama. It was a prideful dream and a prideful way to live, but one she could quickly put behind her with a husband, chores, and babies to care for.

  This, though . . . this left Hannah’s stomach tied up in knots. She’d wanted so badly to forbid Annie from seeing Jacob, but she knew her daughter. Nothing was more certain to drive Annie directly into his arms. Hannah might still have to put her foot down in the future; that remained to be seen. First, however, she would try the loving and patient route. If Annie could open herself enough to hear God’s advice, she might well reach the right conclusion herself.

  Jacob’s sudden and frenzied appearance that morning threw all that into jeopardy. There’d been such fury in his face, such passion. These were dangerous qualities. Where had they come from? She’d had no inkling that he felt anything like that for Annie.

  Even less an inkling that Annie might reciprocate his feelings.

  The door opened then, and Hannah quickly squared her shoulders and curled her lips into a smile. Whatever happened, she would not let her daughter be harmed. The fewer people who knew what had happened, even within their family, the better.

  God, help me find a way to solve this mess without hurting anyone.

  Was that even possible?

  Voices sounded in the foyer. “Come and eat!” she called.

  * * *

  Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Aaron yawned. What a day. He’d had that awkward conversation with Mamm and Daed that morning, worked hard all day with Jacob and his daed, and handled the curious tourists who’d come by to see what quaint Amish wares were for sale in the King family’s store. They fingered quilts, sniffed candles, and commented over the little jars of preserves Jacob’s mother canned and readied for sale with a little bow tied around each.

  Some even bought things, which Aaron knew Jacob’s family really appreciated. Because the Kings couldn’t afford to lose a potential sale, they held their tongues while some of the Englischers made ignorant, condescending comments about the Amish lifestyle and marveled that anyone could get along without smartphones and sports cars. Those particular folks didn’t stop to ask themselves what reasons the Amish might have for their choices. And why would they, when they were so certain they were superior to the Amish?

  The funny thing was, thought Aaron, that it was exactly that overweening pride that not owning modern technological devices was meant to prevent. When he’d spent a year in Philadelphia, working in a mechanic’s garage, he’d seen the cockiness of guys who lived in what they called the real world. It seemed to be one big race to show everyone else up, a race no one could ever win.

  The Englischers lived in a disposable society, throwing away one perfectly good machine as soon as a newer model came out, just because they couldn’t stand not being able to brag that they owned the very latest version. It was so wasteful, Aaron couldn’t stand it. If they actually had to work for everything they had, the way his family did, they wouldn’t be so quick to toss things out.

  But not all Englischers were like that. Katie wasn’t like that. She’d been curious, sure, but she was also respectful and admitted feeling silly she didn’t know basic life skills like how to cook, let alone how to make a beautiful quilt, but wanted to learn. It was charming and refreshing to talk to someone who understood the Amish had worth, too.

  Aaron looked up at that moment to see Katie standing before him. She’d come without her daed this time. “Hi,” she said shyly. “I hope it’s okay I came back. I . . . I wanted to talk to you some more. About sustainable practices and conservation.”

  A thrill ran through Aaron. He fought to keep his face and his voice calm and cool, the “chill” Englischers talked about. “Ya, it’s fine.” There, he thought, that was plenty chill.

  He couldn’t help but notice how pretty Katie looked in her green dress. It went well with her green eyes and the sparkly flower clipped in her blonde hair. It wasn’t even very low-cut, the way girls seemed to dress these days. Though Aaron wouldn’t have minded horribly if it had been, it was nice to see she was a girl he could potentially bring home to his mother.

  Well, aside from the problem of her not being Amish. There was that.<
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  “So what can I do for you today?” he asked more formally, just as Jacob King and his daed walked in from the back room.

  Katie noticed, and picked up a jar of apple butter. “Can you tell me how this is made? Do you use organic apples?”

  Jacob’s daed smiled and took the jar from her. “My wife makes that. It’s a long but simple process of cooking apples into mush and adding cinnamon. And yes, we use no chemical pesticides or fertilizer for our crops. If they do not do well on their own, we accept that as the will of God.”

  “Fascinating!” Katie said, leaning forward. Aaron could tell she actually meant it, too, the way her eyes were shining. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your community doesn’t suffer from many of the same diseases we do from prolonged exposure to dangerous chemicals.”

  “Every community has its own problems,” Jacob’s daed said, “but yes, I do think that our ties to the earth in conjunction with our beliefs allow us to lead a simpler, cleaner life.”

  “My mother died from intestinal cancer,” Katie whispered, casting her eyes down. Aaron’s heart contracted in sympathy. “She’d been exposed to so many chemicals and radiation from her job . . . I just wish I’d known how to eat better back then. Maybe it would have helped.”

  Jacob looked uncomfortable and glanced at his daed, who bowed his head. “I’m mighty sorry to hear that, miss. A girl needs her mamm, no doubt about that.” He put the jar of apple butter on the counter and slid it toward her. “Why don’t you take this and try it? See what you think?”

  Katie wiped her eyes. “I’d love to! How much is it?”

  “Oh, no, no,” said Jacob’s daed. “This is a gift. If you like it, come back and buy some more.”

  “But I couldn’t!” said Katie, embarrassed.

  “Please do,” Aaron interjected. He was kicking himself for not having thought of that first. He could have purchased a jar of apple butter and given it to Katie with no one else watching. His mind raced. What could he do to top this gesture? “Take it, as a gift from all of us to you.”