by Jan Drexler
Adam got down and turned to grasp Hannah around the waist, lifting her down and over the muddy gutter in one swinging motion. He led the way up the stairs and knocked on the door.
When the door opened a couple inches, Hannah got a glimpse of Liesbet’s face in the darkened room.
“Hannah? What are you doing here?” Her voice was a whisper.
“I’ve come to take you home. Mamm and Daed are worried about you.”
Liesbet shook her head and started to close the door. “I can’t, Hannah. Go home and leave me alone.”
Adam stuck his foot over the threshold to keep the door from closing all the way.
“Why, Liesbet? You know they’ll welcome you back home.”
A mumbled curse sounded from inside the room. “Lizzy! Close that door.”
Liesbet glanced over her shoulder, and then stepped out on the stair landing. Hannah couldn’t keep a gasp from escaping when she saw her sister in full light. Her thin face was gray tinged, her hair unwashed and limp. Liesbet didn’t look Hannah in the eye, but shuffled out far enough to close the door behind her. Adam stepped away from them, a couple steps down the stairs.
“What has happened, Liesbet? Are you ill?”
Liesbet shook her head, coughing a little. “Ne, Hannah. You need to go home. Leave me.”
“You need to come home. You need some good food and a warm house. You need Mamm to take care of you.” She took a step toward her sister and Liesbet’s shawl fell open, revealing a swollen stomach.
Hannah froze. Liesbet turned back and grasped Hannah’s hand with her own cold, rough one. “I can’t come home. I’m married, and soon there will be a baby.” She coughed again.
Liesbet was ill. Hannah recognized the shadowed eyes, the hollow cough. She reached up a hand to Liesbet’s cheek. Ja, and feverish too.
“You may be married, but you’re sick. You need someone to take care of you.”
Another curse sounded from behind the closed door, and the heavy footsteps came toward it. Liesbet cringed from the sound. The door was wrenched open and George McIvey filled it.
“What’s going on out here?” Stench rose from his body, clothed only in a shirt and breeches.
“It’s all right, George.” Liesbet reached out a hand to block him from Hannah and Adam. “My sister just came for a visit, but she’s leaving now.”
George stared at Hannah, his eyes bleary. He grimaced. “More Amish.” He stumbled back into the room and Liesbet closed the door behind him.
“You have to go.”
“I can’t leave you here.”
“He isn’t always like this. It’s just . . . last night was a bad night. But he works hard, and supports us.”
Adam made a sound behind Hannah that matched her thoughts.
“Come home with me, Liesbet.”
“And leave my husband?”
Hannah glanced at Adam. What should she do?
“Come home until the baby is born. Just until summer.”
Liesbet shook her head and turned the doorknob. “I can’t, Hannah.” She looked over her shoulder as another curse sounded from inside. “He isn’t always like this. He does love me, I know he does.” She slipped inside the door before Hannah could reach out for her. “Go home. I’m fine.” She closed the door.
Hannah stood outside the door. The inside latch fell with a click.
“Hannah, come away.”
Adam’s voice penetrated the roaring in her head. She let him lead her down the stairway and up into the wagon seat. He untied the horses and headed them toward the center of town.
Hannah kept the tears in until they were past the town houses and heading back home, but then they fell silently until she sniffed and Adam looked her way. Without a word he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I wouldn’t have let you come if I had known how she was living.”
“It’s too late, isn’t it?”
Adam drove in silence for a few minutes, and then put one arm around her, drawing her head to his shoulder.
“It’s never too late for anyone, but they have to want to change. Unless Liesbet decides to come home, there isn’t anything you can do.”
Hannah let Adam’s arms comfort her. The only stable, sure part of her world. With Liesbet gone forever, her family was torn asunder again. What would she tell Mamm and Daed?
27
You have to tell them, Hannah. You can’t keep this a secret.”
Adam had driven the empty wagon to Hannah’s house, arriving just as the sun disappeared below the edge of the surrounding forest, leaving bare tree branches looking like black lace against a fiery background.
“It will devastate them. It’s one thing for Liesbet to be gone, to think she’s making a life for herself in the Englischer world, but if they knew . . .”
“They need to know. Your pa will want to do something—bring her home somehow.”
Hannah shook her head. “He won’t unless she asks for forgiveness. She’s already as good as dead to them. This would just cause them more pain.”
“If Liesbet was our daughter, I’d want to know.”
Adam’s words, spoken softly, clenched at Hannah’s heart. If she and Adam married, they would have children together—children he would love and protect. He would be a wonderful father.
“Do you want me to come inside with you? I could tell them, and perhaps it wouldn’t be as hard for them to hear.”
“Ne, they wouldn’t want an outsider . . . someone from outside the family to be part of this.” Hannah took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Daed and Jacob were still working in the barn. Light spilled from the partly open door across the yard to the house. Mamm would be fixing supper, waiting for her return. It was getting late and she would be worried.
She turned to Adam. “Denki, Adam. I appreciate the ride into town and all your help.”
Adam pulled her close and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “I will help you any time you need it, Hannah. You know that.”
Hannah nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Adam had been a true friend today. She walked to the house as he drove away, dreading the questions she would need to answer as soon as she opened the door.
Jacob and Daed caught up with her as she stepped onto the porch.
“Ach, Hannah, are you just getting home now?” Daed sat on the bench to take his boots off before going in.
“I took longer than I thought. Adam brought me home in the wagon.”
Jacob glanced at her as he rose from the bench, boots in his hands. “That was handy.” He grinned at her and then held the door open as she walked in.
Hannah hung her cape and bonnet on the hooks in the entry while Daed and Jacob put their boots away. The kitchen smelled like home. Hannah stopped to take in the sight of the three little ones sitting at the table, Margli intent on cutting a pan of corn pone.
Mamm turned from the fireplace and saw Hannah. A relieved smile burst through as she dropped her spoon onto the table and came to give Hannah a hug. It was the first smile Hannah had seen since Liesbet had disappeared.
“I’m so glad you’re home.”
Hannah hugged her back, although she would rather cling to her and let her tears flow. “I’m sorry. I stayed out longer than I should have.”
“Never mind now. Come sit down. Supper is ready.”
Hannah helped finish putting the stew on the table along with the plates and bread. She waited for Daed to lead the blessing, and for the little ones to be fed. She waited until William and Peter had finished their stew. The longer she waited, the more her stomach twisted and turned.
“I have to tell you something.”
Daed glanced at her, then at Mamm.
“Ja, daughter?” Daed took another bite of stew.
“I went to Lancaster today.”
“Not to the Metzlers’?” Mamm looked at Daed, and then at the children. “Margli, take your brothers into the bedroom and play a qui
et game. Hannah and I will clear up supper.”
Once Margli had taken Peter and William into the other room and closed the door, Mamm nodded to Daed.
“Tell us about it.” Daed pushed his plate away and brushed crumbs from his beard. Jacob took another piece of corn pone.
“I . . . I asked Adam to take me to town. I wanted to see Liesbet.”
Mamm choked back a sob at Liesbet’s name.
“Why would you do that?” Daed’s brows nearly covered his eyes, they were lowered so far.
“I thought I could convince her to come home.”
“She will come home when she’s ready.”
“Ja, but she’s so thoughtless at times . . . I thought if I told her how serious her actions were, she might come back.”
“Did you see her? What did she say?” Mamm grabbed Hannah’s hand and clung to it. What would her next words do to her?
“Ja, I saw her.” Hannah stopped. She must go on. “She won’t be coming home.”
“Not at all? You’re sure?” Daed looked as devastated as Mamm.
“Ja, I’m sure.” Hannah swallowed. Hard. “She . . . she’s married.”
Daed stood and walked to the fireplace, his hand running through his hair, clutching at it. Mamm sat back, leaning heavily against her chair. Jacob stared at Hannah. She had never seen him so angry.
“She’s married?” He spit the words out, his voice rising.
“How did this happen?” Mamm turned to Daed standing behind her. She clutched at his sleeve. “How did she meet a man who would do this to her? Someone who would take her away from her family without even approaching us, letting us meet him?”
“He is an Englischer.” Jacob’s words were hard, unyielding. “He knew Daed would never give him permission to marry Liesbet, so he stole her. We have to get her back before it’s too late.”
Silence followed Jacob’s words. He turned to Hannah.
“Unless it’s too late already.”
Hannah nodded. “Liesbet is expecting a little one.”
Mamm leaned forward. “She told you this?”
“I could tell when I saw her.”
Jacob heaved himself from his seat, the bench crashing to the floor as he strode out the door.
Mamm looked at Daed, then back at Hannah. “She’s only been away a few weeks. If you can already tell . . . that means she knew when she left . . .”
Hannah nodded, squeezing her eyes closed on the tears that threatened. Neither Mamm nor Daed said anything.
Daed finally moved from the fireplace, his steps slow and heavy. He leaned his hand on Mamm’s shoulder as he passed, on his way to the door, following Jacob’s steps. He turned before leaving, his eyes meeting Mamm’s.
“I blame myself for this. I should have acted sooner, when I first knew of Liesbet’s ways. We will leave for Indiana in the spring as we planned. I will not risk losing another one of our children to the world.”
As January turned to February, one snowstorm after another kept Hannah inside the house. She longed to visit Johanna, or even help Daed and Jacob with the wagon building in the barn, but Mamm grew increasingly tired as the weeks went on and her stomach grew rounder. She needed Hannah’s help.
Every day it didn’t storm, Hannah bundled up the children and took them outside to play for an hour, giving Mamm a chance to nap with William inside the quiet house. She taught Margli and Peter how to make snow angels and how to play ducks and geese by tromping down paths in the snow for the playing field. After their time outdoors, the children were content to play quietly in the house while she helped Mamm prepare supper.
One evening, as Daed read from the Martyr’s Mirror, Hannah listened, absorbed in the stories. Each one was short, but gave an account of men and women who would not renounce their faith, even in the face of imprisonment and torture. Some accounts ended with miraculous deliverance from their persecution, others with the gradual weakening and death of the martyr.
Tonight Daed ended with the most heartbreaking story to listen to. It was the account of Hans Meyli and his wife, whose children were sent out to live with strangers when their parents were imprisoned. Hannah sat with her knitting in her lap, her hands still, as she stared at the fire. Had those children followed the faith of their parents, or were they lost forever? What a terrible choice it must have been for the mother, to either deny her faith or keep her children with her.
Even Peter sat quietly when Daed finished reading. William slept on the floor in front of the fire, snoring softly in the stillness.
Margli broke the silence. “Why did they do it, Daed?” She turned around and laid her hand on his knee, searching his firelit face. “Why didn’t they just do what the evil men wanted them to do?”
“Because to do so would have been denying their Lord, who refused to deny them as he hung on the cross.” Daed patted Margli’s hand absently as he stared into the fire. “Can we do any less?”
“But we aren’t being imprisoned or killed.” Jacob leaned forward in his chair.
“Ne, but we are hemmed in on all sides, beset with temptations from strangers who would pull us from our family and way.”
Then he turned to look at Hannah. “We must hold to our faith through any threat of persecution or temptation from the world.”
Hannah met his eyes but couldn’t bear the intense look he gave her. She dropped her gaze to the forgotten knitting in her lap and picked it up again. She realized that Daed’s reading was for her. He was afraid they would lose her to Adam and his faith. She would be as dead to them as Liesbet if she married their neighbor and friend, because as faithful as he might be, he wasn’t Amish.
Adam was a man of faith. He was strong, courageous, a willing worker, and would be a good provider. But he wasn’t Amish. After he had attended the tent meetings last summer, Hannah wasn’t even sure he could still be called Mennonite. His thinking was changed—full of ideas that he said followed Christ’s teachings. Were his ideas from man, not God?
Hannah went back to pick up a stitch she had dropped in her knitting.
What did Adam believe? He had compassion and risked his life for the well-being of others. But where did his actions fit in with his beliefs?
A knock sounded at the door. Mamm and Daed exchanged glances, and then Daed went to the kitchen to answer it. Hannah followed him.
Wind pushed their visitor into the room, and he stood, unwrapping a woolen scarf from around his head.
“Josef Bender?” Daed shook his head in disbelief and helped him with his snowy coat and hat and then led him into the parlor. “We didn’t expect to see you until spring.”
“Ja, ja, ja.” Josef chaffed his hands in a brisk rub and took Daed’s chair when it was offered.
He glanced at Hannah, his eyes reflecting the smile he gave her. It had been so long since she had seen him, and so much had happened, that she had nearly forgotten how warm his smiles were.
“I’ve reached the end of my redemption, and even though I had thought I would continue helping the Nafsingers prepare for their move to Ohio, Daniel suggested I come to see you. He said they had very little for me to do, but you might want an extra hand.”
“He’s right about that. It was a thoughtful thing for him to think of us.” Daed winked at Hannah and her face burned. “How long can you stay?”
“I can stay as long as you need me, all the way until our departure next month, if it’s all right with you.”
Daed combed through his beard with his fingers and glanced at Mamm. She gave him a quick nod. “We’ll be glad to have you.”
“I’ll fix myself a place in the barn, if that’s all right.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind.” Mamm rose to her feet. “You’re one of the family, not a hired hand. Peter and Jacob have room.”
“Denki.” Josef nodded at Mamm and Daed, and then looked at Jacob. “I hope you won’t mind company.”
Jacob grinned from his seat on the bench next to Hannah. “I welcome it. We can get to
know each other better.”
“Ja, we can.” Josef’s gaze slid over to Hannah. She bent her head to her knitting. To have Josef here, every day? A wonderful-gut thing, to be sure.
“Well then,” Daed said, “let’s get you settled. We won’t need to leave so early in the morning for Sabbath meeting. Tomorrow we meet at the Hertzlers’.” Daed picked up William, still sleepy, from the floor. “You know where the boys’ room is, and Jacob can show you where to put your things.”
Josef started to get up from his seat, but Daed pushed him back again with a hand on his shoulder. “But don’t be in a hurry. After your journey today, I’m sure you’ll want to rest. You young folks sit and visit for a while. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Silence filled the room after Mamm took the little ones out and up to bed. Soon she heard Mamm come back down the stairs and into her room. The door closed, leaving Hannah alone with Jacob and Josef.
She put her knitting away. “I had better be off to bed also.”
Josef stood as she rose. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
Jacob looked from her to Josef and back again. He stretched and rose to his feet. “It’s been a long day and I need my sleep. Good night.” He winked at Hannah as he left the room, and she was alone with Josef.
“I’ve never known the folks to go to bed so early.”
“Perhaps they wanted to leave us alone, so we could visit.” Josef stepped closer to her.
“We could visit with them here, couldn’t we?”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Not the way I’d like to. Some things just can’t be discussed when little brothers and sisters are around.”
His hand was still icy from his long walk. “You must be cold after coming all that way.” She sat in Mamm’s chair and he took Daed’s.
“Ja, for sure. But once Daniel said I could go, I couldn’t wait to get here. My only worry was that I’d arrive too late in the evening, and everyone would be in bed.”
“What would you have done then?”
“The barn would have been comfortable enough, except I would have had to wait until morning to see you.”
“Why the hurry?”
Josef leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “The last time we talked, you said you needed to know me better. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”
