by Marta Perry
“Come on, Sally, it’s fun.” Ryder gave her a big smile.
“I reckon I can crack more than you can. I know I won’t eat as many.” She took a seat across from Ryder and tried not to look at Ben. He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her. She wished she were dressed Amish. It didn’t feel right to be wearing jeans at an Amish table. It didn’t feel right to have her head uncovered.
She sat working in uncomfortable silence while Ryder and Ben kept up a constant flow of friendly chatter. After a few minutes, Ben addressed her. “Do you like living in the city, Sally?”
“It’s okay.”
“You must miss your home and your family,” Granny said.
“Sure I do. You must miss yours, too, Ben. Do you get home often?” The McIntyre farm was twenty miles from Hope Springs.
“Fairly often. I get back for church services every other week.”
“So you get to some of the singings?” Would he mention if he were seeing someone regularly? How could she ask without sounding nosy?
“What’s a singing?” Kimi asked from the foot of the stairs.
Sally kept her surge of joy hidden. Maybe her words had made an impression on the girl after all.
Granny answered before Sally could. “It’s when Amish young people get together for a good time. We call it a singing, because they sing songs, but there is always food and games.”
“Kimi, can you crack this one? I can’t get it.” Ryder held out his pecan.
“I guess.” She took it from him, broke the shell easily and handed it back.
“Thanks. Can I play games on your phone since you aren’t using it?”
“No.” Kimi sat beside Sally. “So what kind of games do Amish kids play?”
“Volleyball is a game that we like in the summer,” Sally said.
Kimi gave her a sidelong glance. “You play volleyball?”
“Kimi wants to make the volleyball team at school, but she isn’t good enough,” Ryder said.
Sally shook her head. “It isn’t because she isn’t good enough. She’s just younger than the other players on the team are. They’re all eighth graders. When she’s older, she’ll make the team. She has skills.”
Kimi’s chin came up. “I do have skills.”
Sally grinned. “Amish kids play baseball, all kinds of board games and lawn games.”
“I like chess,” Ryder said.
“Me, too,” Ben said, looking surprised.
“He isn’t very good,” Sally winked at Ryder. “You should play him a game.”
“What kind of songs do you sing, Ben?” Ryder asked, dropping his chin on his hands.
“All kinds of songs.”
“Even rap?” Kimi asked with a sly grin.
Ben began to pound a rhythm on the table. “Do you know my face/I teach horses to race/I hate to roam/but I’m a long way from home. Do you like it? I just made it up.”
Sally giggled at the looks on both the kid’s faces. “No, we don’t sing rap songs. Ben has been listening to the radio too much.”
Kimi frowned at him. “I thought you couldn’t do that?”
He said, “From the time we reach our sixteenth birthday until the day we become baptized in our faith, we are free to do the same things non-Amish people do. It’s called our rumspringa. It’s a time when we get to decide if we want to remain Amish.”
“Being Amish is not an easy life, but we live it to remain close to God and to each other,” Granny said.
Ryder turned in his chair. “Did you have a rumspringa, Granny?”
“I did. But the temptations of the world were not so great in my time as they are now. Young people now have a much harder decision to make.”
“Were you mad at Grandma McIntyre when she left the Amish?” Kimi asked.
“Nee, I was not mad. Her father and I were very sad. It was her choice, we accepted that, but we worried that we would not be as close to her children and grandchildren as we would be to our others. In that, we were right. I see my other grandchildren all the time, but I don’t see you enough.”
Ryder stared at the pecan shells on the table and stirred them around. “Mom and Dad are always too busy to bring us here.”
“I know, but I miss you nonetheless. I miss your mother, too. I think she is ashamed of her relatives who live without electricity and drive buggies.”
Ryder looked up with a kind expression. “We’re not ashamed of you, grossmammi. Are we, Kimi?”
Kimi looked at Ben. “You never said what kind of songs you sing.”
“Most of them are from our songbooks. German songs and church hymns,” Sally said quickly to cover the awkward moment.
Ben said, “We do sing some English songs. ‘Amazing Grace’ is one of my favorites. This time of year we sing Christmas carols but not modern ones.”
“Let’s have a little song while we wait for our supper to finish cooking,” Granny said.
“Do you have a favorite, Granny?” Sally asked.
The elderly woman sat down beside Kimi and laid a hand on her shoulder. Sally knew it was a sign that she forgave Kimi for being ashamed of her, too. “I reckon my favorite Christmas carol will always be ‘Stille Nacht.’ Ben, you start us off. The German version first, and then the Englisch so the children can sing, too.”
With Ben’s hearty baritone voice leading the way, Sally was soon singing along with many of the Christmas songs she knew and loved. For the first time since meeting Ben again, she felt at ease in his company. This was something they had shared in the past. It was part of the fabric of her Amish life and she missed it.
After twenty minutes of songs, Granny said, “I reckon the stew is done.”
Sally rose. “I’ll set the table.”
Before long, they were enjoying Granny’s wonderful beef stew with hot, flaky biscuits and apple pie for dessert. Only Kimi picked at her food. It wasn’t the fare she was used to. When the meal was done, Granny said, “Our singing has truly put me in the Christmas spirit. I have been remiss in not setting out my candles. Kimi, would you help me? Ben, can you bring in some greenery? There are some evergreens beside the barn. They donate branches each year to help celebrate our Lord’s birth.”
Kimi got up and headed for the stairs. “I should check my messages.”
Sally’s heart sank. She knew what was wrong with Kimi. The girl was afraid to admit she cared about others. She was trying to be as unconnected as her mother.
“I’ll be happy to get some greenery.” Ben rose from the table and went to put on his coat and boots. “I have to check on Dandy, anyway.”
Ryder jumped down from his chair. “Can I come? I want to visit Dandy. He might be lonely out there by himself.”
“Not right now.”
Ryder accepted Ben’s pronouncement with nothing more than a slight frown. “Okay.” He headed for the stairs. “Kimi, can I play a game on your phone? Please? It’s my turn now.”
Sally began to clear the table. She heard Ben go out, but less than a minute later, the door opened and he came back in. She looked up in surprise. Snow was plastered on his clothing. “Did you forget something?”
“No, but I can’t find the barn.”
“Are you serious?” Sally and Granny grabbed their coats and stepped out onto the porch. The house offered some shelter from the fierce wind, but it was bitterly cold. There was nothing visible beyond the porch steps but a curtain of white. The snow was blowing sideways. It was so thick nothing could be seen beyond the end of the steps.
“I’ve never seen a whiteout like this before.” Ben had to shout to be heard over the wind.
Granny wrapped her arms around her middle. “You were smart not to try to make it to the barn.”
“Dandy needs the wrapping on his leg checked to mak
e sure it’s not too tight if it has started swelling.”
Sally remembered something she had read. “We can string a rope between the house and the barn so you can find your way.”
The elderly woman started back into the house. “I have several lengths of clothesline in the cellar we can use. I’ll get them.”
Sally met Ben’s gaze. “I’m not sure my idea is the best.”
“It’s a pretty good one. Tie one end to the porch and the other end to me. I’ll head to where the barn should be. When I find it, I’ll tie the rope to the door handle and come back once I check on Dandy. If I can’t reach the barn, I follow the line back to the house.”
“Are you sure you have to do this?”
“Dandy’s my responsibility.”
Granny returned with the thin white plastic coated rope. Ben measured off how much he thought he would need and then added another ten feet. He secured the rope and tugged on the knot “This should do.”
Sally grasped his arm. “Be careful. Don’t make me come after you.”
“If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, you might have to do just that.”
“Don’t think for a minute that I won’t, Ben Lapp.”
“There’s the bossy Sally I used to know. I wondered what had happened to her.” He stepped off the porch and was gone from sight before she could think of what to say.
Chapter Seven
Waiting for Ben to reappear turned into the longest fifteen minutes of Sally’s life. She and Granny huddled together out of the wind while they watched and prayed for his safety. Sally strained her ears trying to hear a cry for help over the wind if he should need her.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, his dark figure emerged from the blizzard at the foot of the steps. In that instant, she realized how deeply she loved him and how foolish she had been. Foolish to turn aside his offer of friendship.
Just because he didn’t love her the way she loved him was no reason to spurn him. On the wall at the small community church where she took Ryder on Sundays was a poster. She knew the meaning of the words came from Corinthians. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. Nowhere did it mention that love had to be returned. She hadn’t truly understood that until now.
It was childish and shallow to think Ben’s friendship was a burden to her or that she couldn’t return that friendship. She would treasure the love she held for him, but she would never turn her back on him again. She stood aside so that he could come up on the porch. “I was about to come get you.”
He pulled off his hat and shook the snow from it. “I ended up in the evergreens, but once I realized what they were, I was able to find my way to the barn door. The rope is secure, Dandy’s doing well, and I have your greenery and two more eggs for you, Granny.” He pulled them from his pocket and handed them to her.
Granny chuckled. “Danki.”
They followed her inside and left their coats and boots near the door. Granny put the eggs in the refrigerator and carried the evergreen boughs to the windowsill in the living room, where she arranged them around a thick red candle. The spicy smell of cedar filled the room. After lighting the candle, Granny stepped back. “This light will remind all who see it that Christ is the Light of the world as we celebrate his birth in this holy season.”
The warm glow of the flame reflected on the frosty glass of the window and made the panes sparkle with multicolored points of light. Sally felt a deep peace settle in her heart.
Granny sighed heavily. “I think I’ll go to bed now. It’s been a long day for me. I’ll bring in some wood from the back porch if you can stoke the small stove, Sally.”
Ben said, “I’ll bring in the firewood and take care of the stoves. You head to bed.”
“All right, I will. Bless you both for looking after the kinder and for helping an old woman. Gott will reward your kindness.” She walked with shuffling steps across the living room and entered a bedroom beyond.
Ben started down the hall that led to the rear of the house. Sally followed him. If he was surprised by her company, he didn’t show it. The back porch was a small enclosed space with a large wood rack along the wall. Cut logs were stacked nearly five feet high. A ringer washing machine and storage cabinets lined the other wall.
Sally grabbed several logs from the high stack. Ben held out his arms. She began loading him down with wood. It took until his arms were full before she found the courage to speak. “I would like to talk to you, Ben. I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For a remark I made earlier, among other things.”
“When you said we couldn’t be friends?”
She nodded. He said, “Can we talk inside where it’s warm? My feet are freezing.”
She glanced at his stocking feet and held open the door for him. “Oh! Of course.”
After he deposited the logs in the wood box and added one to the stove, he sat in a recliner and leaned back with a weary sigh. “I hope we don’t have any more excitement on this adventure, because I’m beat.”
“I know what you mean. We can talk tomorrow.” She welcomed the reprieve and started to walk past him.
He reached out and caught her hand. “Nee, I’m not too tired to talk.”
His hand was work-roughened, warm and strong and he held her slender fingers perfectly. As if he had been fashioned for that single purpose.
She withdrew her hand and missed his touch intensely. She took a seat on the sofa and clasped her hands together. “I’m sorry I said we couldn’t be friends. We can. I would like that, but you may not feel the same when I tell you that my pursuit of you for the last few years was just a ruse. I wasn’t madly in love with you.”
Not like she was now.
“Why were you dogging me if you weren’t interested in me?” Ben asked in amazement.
It was hard and painful to explain, but he deserved to know the truth. “I knew that you would never ask a girl like me to marry you.”
“You aren’t making sense, Sally.”
“I made a fool of myself over you to discourage other boys from asking me out. It kept my parents and friends from pushing me to settle down and marry. I used you to avoid getting into any serious relationship.”
“But why?”
“What does that matter? I didn’t realize I was making your life miserable. I’m sorry for that.”
“Sally, it does matter why. It matters to me. Not because you owe me an explanation, but because, odd as it sounds, I do care about you.”
She stared at her hands. “You’re just being kind.”
“Isn’t that what friends do?” he asked softly.
Her throat closed and she couldn’t speak for the tears that threatened.
“I thought you meant you were leaving the Amish for good and that’s why we couldn’t be friends. Is that the case?”
She sniffed. “I truly don’t know if I can come back.”
“It isn’t an easy decision, because it isn’t an easy life.”
Looking up, she asked, “Have you made your decision?”
“I always knew I would follow in the faith of my father.”
“I wish I had your certainty. One way or the other.”
“A man can easily straddle a fence, but he’ll never get anywhere until he gets off. What’s stopping you, Sally? I once thought of you as flighty and wild, but you are wonderful with the kids. You were a good friend to those close to you. Give me one reason why you should leave our faith?”
“I’m not meek.”
He chuckled. “No, you aren’t.”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry. That was wrong. I see meekness as accepting what God wills.”
She rose and crossed
to the window. Folding her arms tightly, she said, “I see it as a weakness that others can take advantage of.”
“Who took advantage of you, Sally?”
She closed her eyes against the shame. She wasn’t ready to speak of it. Turning around, she forced a smile to her stiff lips. “I meant our people in general. I didn’t mean me in particular.”
“You aren’t a very good liar.”
“I’ve fooled a lot of people for a long time.”
He crossed the room to stand in front of her. He was so close she could feel his warmth. More than anything, she wanted to lean into his embrace. “You aren’t fooling me anymore, Sally.”
She gazed into his eyes, stunned by the compassion she saw there. “I’ve never told anyone.”
“I’ll never tell anyone, either.”
Could she trust him? When she started to speak, all the words came out in a rush. “I was seventeen. I was driving home from a friend’s house in my little open cart instead of the family buggy. It was a pretty Indian summer evening and I wasn’t in a hurry. I was passing by the gas station outside Hope Springs when a man stepped out from behind a truck and held up a hand to stop me. I thought he needed help. The moment I slowed down, he grabbed my horse and a second man got out of the truck. They started laughing. The one holding my horse said I was prettier than the last few had been. The one from the truck came up and grabbed my wrist. He was so strong. I was scared.” She pressed a hand to her lips and turned away from Ben.
She could see her reflection in the window and the way the light of the candle shone all around her. She could see Ben, too. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He simply waited.
“I knew what was going to happen when the one holding me leered and said he liked Amish girls the best because they didn’t fight back. None of us saw the third man. He came from around the back of the station and told them to stop. The one holding me let go and they fought. I couldn’t accept my fate or wait to see who won. I grabbed my buggy whip and I struck the one holding my horse over and over again until he let go. Then, I whipped my poor horse until we reached home.”
“I’m so sorry. Something like that should never happen. God will punish them.”
