“What I’m tryin’ to say, Judah, is ever so hard,” she said, her heart breaking. “You see, I had Samuel’s baby in Ohio. Mamm and I went to Kidron for the birth... and to give the baby away.”
His mouth dropped open, and he let go of her hand.
“My parents thought it best... that no one should know.” Her lip trembled. “In so many ways, I was deceitful, goin’ along with it.”
His ruddy face had turned white, devoid of color. “You had a child together?” He looked like someone had struck him square in the face.
“It’s nagged at me all this time. Oh, Judah, I’m ever so sorry for keeping it from you!”
He shook his head. “I suspected things... that you’d made a mistake.”
She nodded, understanding what he implied.
“But I never suspected you’d had Samuel’s baby.” He turned slightly, facing toward the road. “I never dreamed this, Lettie.”
“Daed and Mamm advised me against telling you for this very reason.”
His ashen face filled with misery.
“I was young, Judah. Ever so young and foolish.”
“But you knew better. You know what the Good Book says.”
I’ve wounded him.
He tugged at his suspenders and stared at her, his feet firmly planted in the soil before her. His eyes were like coals of fire. “Who else knows?”
“The doctor who placed the baby... and the midwife.” She told how she’d found midwife Minnie Keim in Baltic, that she’d only then discovered she had birthed a daughter. “I selfishly went in search of Minnie. I felt I had to do it, but I was wrong to leave you as I did.”
“Did ya search for Samuel, too?” His eyes were moist, but not, she thought, with sadness. His resentment formed his tears.
Lettie admitted how sorry she’d felt for Samuel after encountering his twin sister at the spring barn raising in Bart. “It was the first I knew that Samuel’s wife had left him a widower... and childless. I thought it might ease his pain to know of our child.” Weeping now, she covered her eyes.
“He left Bird-in-Hand – he and his family – before knowing?”
She looked into the pain-ridden face of her husband, stunned at how his words seemed to pour out. Stunned, too, that he still stood before her. “Samuel never knew about the baby. Not till I told him a little more than three weeks ago in Ohio.”
Judah folded his arms across his burly chest.
“I asked Samuel’s forgiveness for what I’d done – for not bein’ forthright.” She struggled to go on. “I wanted to make things right with him, just as I want to make amends now with you.”
“Samuel’s held first place in your heart for too long.” He said it so quietly, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard clearly. Yet, seeing him this distraught, she didn’t have the heart to ask her husband to repeat himself.
“I was wrong, Judah.” She wanted to add, If I could do it all again, I’d do things differently. But her tongue remained locked in place.
“I wish I didn’t know this, Lettie.” He shook his head repeatedly.
“I’m askin’ for your forgiveness, Judah.” She almost sobbed the words. “If you can find it in your heart somehow...”
His eyes held hers for a long, awkward moment. “I don’t know what to say.” Then he turned his back to her and waved his right hand absently before walking forward in a daze toward the road.
She wouldn’t call after him. No, she deserved exactly this... just as she’d known deep within herself on their wedding day.
With a sigh, Lettie walked back toward the Smuckers’ house, knowing full well that the bishop and all the ministers had the power to dole out the harshest discipline possible. It was the kneeling confession she feared most. If required, she’d be expected to disclose her many sins before the entire membership of the People.
But Judah’s response, and the pain she had carried for too many years, were entirely different matters. Judah was clearly displeased with her. Bewildered too. She had no guarantee he’d ever extend the forgiveness she longed for... just as her parents had predicted so long ago.
What right do I have to expect it?
Lettie reached for the screen door and heard the happy sounds of Sally and Josiah with their children – a toddler’s soft whimper and the giggle of a youngster, maybe bouncing on someone’s knee. The door made a creak, announcing her entry. And the house fell suddenly still.
While Grace waited for the next batch of clothes to dry – and while her hotdish was baking – she wandered out to the stable to see Willow. Yonnie had been walking the recovering mare little by little, back and forth in the barnyard. Yonnie grinned when he saw her, waving her over. “Come help me,” he said.
As cheerful as Yonnie always was, she was glad to comply. “Looks like she’s not favoring her hurt leg anymore.” She touched Willow’s shoulder, and Yonnie covered her hand with his own.
“Willow’s goin’ to be all right,” he said. “Like I told ya all along.”
She laughed softly and slipped her hand out from beneath his. “Did you hear my mother’s back – over at Preacher Smucker’s house?”
“Jah. Preacher told Adam and Joe before he left for home.”
“Ach, I’m so happy, Yonnie.” She smiled up at him. “I wish I could go over there this minute.”
He pushed his straw hat firmly down on his head. “If you’re happy, then I am, too,” he said more seriously.
“I see you’re wearin’ a broader hat brim than before.”
“Wondered when you’d notice.” He winked at her.
“When did ya change it?”
“My father and I decided it was time.”
“The ministers didn’t prompt you, then?” Her smile was wide; she couldn’t help it.
“ Nee – no. We just finally got around to it.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. Yonnie was the kind of fellow who brought life into any room – or any barnyard. He had an uncanny way of making her feel like he was paying close attention when she talked, too. Like right now. There was no getting around it: Yonnie made her want to be around him.
Even so, what she’d told him last night remained true – with so much about Mamma still up in the air, now was not a good time to begin courting.
Judah walked, stunned, for a half mile before his brother-in-law Ike Peachey happened along in his hay wagon. He accepted the ride without saying why he was heading home on foot from the direction of Preacher Josiah’s farm.
“You gettin’ your lambs all fattened up?” Ike asked.
“Some.”
“Des gut.” Ike eyed him askance. “You look like you just lost your best horse.”
Judah shrugged. Ike was a friendly sort, but he had no idea of the pit Judah was in.
“Wonder if Adam and Joe could come over and give me a hand with haying this week, maybe.”
“Don’t see why not.”
Ike went on. “Heard that a bunch of fellas are getting together tonight, over at Andy’s.”
Judah knew all about it. “Bring your sharpest ax.”
“Think they can clear out that kudzu vine?”
“We’ll sure try.”
Ike clicked his tongue, urging the horse to go faster. “Heard any more from your wife?”
“Jah.” No need to check his words. “She’s stayin’ over at Josiah’s for the time bein’.”
Ike’s eyebrows rose. “Well, now... so she’s back.” He smiled. “Grace must be mighty glad, ’specially after her recent trip.”
“Grace hasn’t seen her yet.”
“Well, for pity’s sake.”
“She’ll go and see her mother soon,” Judah muttered.
“So, then, Lettie’s not goin’ home just yet?”
“It’s up to the ministers.”
Ike looked serious. “Any idea why she left?”
Judah leaned forward. “Wanted to make peace with her past.”
“Well, jah, that’s a mighty smart thing to do,” Ik
e said. “But only if it don’t cause more trouble in the doin’.”
Ain’t that the truth....
Lettie had looked awful vulnerable standing there before him at Josiah’s springhouse. He wished he’d never let her talk so much – just pulled her near and held her for dear life. Because the way he felt now, his love for her seemed mighty desperate... even out of place. Lettie had opened her mouth and destroyed his heart with her talk of Samuel and their baby.
Another man’s baby? How could she have kept such a terrible secret for so long?
Samuel Graber. The mere thought of his name made Judah’s legs feel stiff as boards. Lettie’d gone all that way to ask him to forgive her? Judah was still so jealous, he couldn’t shake off the animosity that plagued him. She chose to comfort Samuel with the news of their child... never caring enough to tell me anything at all!
This was not the time to think again of those maddening frogs that had tormented him last night! They would surely besiege him again tonight, only it would be far worse, knowing what he knew now. And Lettie would sleep in the Smuckers’ house, waiting for the next Preaching service to confess her rebellious ways.
Hopefully, the People will forgive her....
eighteen
The ministers want to meet with you in a day or so,” Preacher Josiah told Lettie after she had admitted her grave misdeeds to him later that morning. “At that time, we’ll decide on the type of confession you must offer the church.”
There were four kinds of disciplinary actions, including the kneeling confession, as well as the Bann, which could last as long as six weeks. Members who were in rebellion and not attempting to adhere to the Ordnung could be shunned for life if they refused to repent and come under the authority of the church.
“Will I be allowed to return home in the meantime... see my children?” Lettie asked tearfully as she leaned against the side of the corncrib, where they talked privately. She knew that, because of the gravity of her sin and the years of covering it up, there would be dire consequences.
Josiah frowned thoughtfully and removed his straw hat. He ran his long fingers through his matted hair. “For now, that’s up to your husband.”
She nodded slowly. Everything was being decided by others – her husband, the ministers, and the membership as a whole.
“Sally’ll help you move to our smallest Dawdi Haus, since it’s vacant,” Josiah said. “Just till the bishop makes a ruling.”
Deciding my fate. She wondered how long it might be before Judah received her back – if he would at all. She couldn’t help but think they might be apart for a long time, given his response to her confession. Maybe for the rest of my life.
As for the church vote, if a wayward person sincerely repented and turned from his or her wickedness, the bishop would offer the hand of fellowship within two to three weeks. But Josiah hadn’t mentioned any of that.
“Denki, preacher, but I don’t have to stay here if it’s too awkward,” she offered, not knowing where else she’d go.
“We don’t mind.” Josiah put his hat back on and excused himself to the barn.
Lettie stood there, facing the wooden slats of the corncrib, and leaned her head on its sun-drenched side. Oh, she needed the comfort of Judah’s arms... and time spent reading the Good Book, especially the more soothing psalms.
But she must not think too far ahead; she must simply manage to live this day without fretting or borrowing trouble. As Proverbs 27:1 said, thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. Preacher Josiah had said she was welcome here, with him and kindhearted Sally. Perhaps, in due time, Judah’s heart would soften. If not, Lettie must keep her chin up – with God’s help.
Still shaken, Judah bent low to pull a weed near the edge of his property where the road and the driveway made a T, and the sheep fence edged the grazing land. He stood back up with a groan and looked toward the house, rubbing his soiled hands together. Adah was up there leaning on the porch railing, staring across the road, evidently lost in thought. He dusted his hands against his trousers.
I must speak to Jakob. He wondered if he shouldn’t sit Adah down, too. Sure seemed like the two of them needed to hear what was on his mind. Did he dare to let out all the pent-up frustration he’d experienced since seeing Lettie? Her shocking admission still pounded in his head. His sense of reasoning was askew. Truth was, he had little regard for his wife’s efforts to soften the blow of her confession. If she’d just confided all this business about having Samuel’s baby before I ever asked her to marry me... Well... no. Now that he considered that, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve gone ahead with it, even though he’d loved Lettie then. He loved her even now.
Knowing she’d carried and birthed another man’s child – and that she’d conspired with her parents to hide that fact – gnawed at his core. He could not shake it, particularly when he thought back to Lettie’s shining joy at the births of their four children.
Looking again at Adah, he stiffened. To think Lettie – and Jakob and Adah, too – had succeeded in keeping their wretched secret from him. He muttered in Deitsch as he walked to the backyard, then made his way to the Dawdi Haus. There, he saw Jakob puffing on his old pipe while sitting on a wicker chair in the screened-in porch. “Guder Mariye,” Judah said, wishing he’d had more time to contemplate what he might say to Lettie’s father. But he was here now and so was Jakob. He’d have to make the best of it.
“Mornin’,” Jakob said, his pipe wobbly between his white teeth. His hair was combed and he wore his tattered work hat, the straw sticking out in places.
“Got your cane nearby, Jakob?” He thought they might mosey out to the woodshed, maybe – someplace out of hearing, away from the house.
“Right here.” Jakob reached to tap on the crook of his cane.
“Time we talk man-to-man.” Again...
Jakob’s eyes locked with his. “If it’s about Lettie, then Adah ought to be privy, too.” No sooner had Jakob uttered this than here came Adah, pushing open the screen door. By the look of concern on her face, Judah knew his father-in-law was right.
“So be it.” Judah pulled over another porch chair for Adah and pushed it next to Jakob’s. He perched on the porch rail and waited for her to sit, all the while sorting out his thoughts.
“There,” Adah said, reaching behind her to situate the yellow-checkered pillow on her chair.
“Lettie will be stayin’ on at Josiah’s,” he began, “till the ministers put their heads together.” And I decide what to do about her living arrangements....
Adah nodded ever so slowly, her gray eyes serious. But, surprisingly, the more he told them what he knew about Lettie’s time as a teenager in Kidron, Ohio, the more relaxed her face became. “I never thought I’d say it, but I’m relieved someone else knows Lettie’s secret now... ’specially you , Judah.”
“Oh jah,” Jakob piped up. “Adah and I never should’ve asked Lettie to keep this quiet... never should’ve interfered ’tween you and her. For that, I’m most sorry.”
Adah’s mouth twitched. She looked at her husband and tears spilled down her face. “It’s been just awful livin’ with this... for so long. And for Lettie, too.”
“What’ll happen, do ya think?” Jakob asked Judah.
“For now, we’ll just have to wait ’n’ see,” Judah said finally, knowing he was also a big part of the decision-making process, at least when it came to Lettie’s relationship with him. Because if he’d wanted her to come, Lettie would already be home.
“Can we visit her?” Adah asked. “And Adam and Grace – won’t all the children want to see her?”
“They can go.” Nothing like this had ever happened in this church district – not that he knew of, anyhow.
The fresh, pungent smell of late spring drifted lazily through the morning air. A cluster of birds flew out of a stand of bushes over yonder, near the property line of Andy’s pastureland. The grazing land literally shone in the shifting light.
“So, then, did Lettie fin
d what she went lookin’ for in Ohio?” Jakob had extinguished his pipe and was gripping his cane with his bony hands.
“Never even thought to ask that.”
Adah’s brow knotted into a deep frown. “Well, either she found her child or she didn’t.” She turned to Jakob and looked at him for the longest time before she continued. “I have information – had it all these years – if you... or Lettie want it. About the private adoption.” She sighed heavily, as if an enormous weight was slowly lifting from her.
Jakob’s eyes lit up; he was obviously as surprised as Judah was. So there were more secrets hidden away from view than even Lettie knew!
Judah glanced again in the direction of Andy’s cow pasture, marked with dozens of dairy cattle. In certain patches the meadow grasses were already knee-high. Ach, too much has happened too quickly for a single morning. He was a man who preferred order and predictability. All this personal information seeping out first from Lettie... and now Adah, was more than he cared to hear.
“Will she balk at makin’ a public confession if it’s required?” asked Jakob.
“That may be why she came home.” Judah felt as if someone else were saying the words.
Adah let out a little wheeze and reached under her sleeve for a handkerchief, which she pushed hard against her mouth. Her face wrinkled up beneath it, quivering, but she said no more.
From the barn, there rose a piercing wail – the sound of one of the last ewes delivering her young. Judah slid off the railing and mumbled that he must see to the keening ewe. With that, he hurried to the barn, relieved to put the tense moment behind him.
O dear Lord, this just cannot be! Grace prayed silently. Her stomach felt cold, and panic bubbled up as she carried the heavy basket of clothes inside from the line. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d overheard some of Dat’s conversation with her grandparents.
Mamma had a baby before she married Dat!
She didn’t want to believe it. And oh, goodness, Mamma might have to confess it in front of the entire congregation!
The Telling Page 11
