Authors: Jerry S. Eicher
Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Amish, #Christian, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Religious, #Love Stories
Mose laughed, “You read too much, Jake, but I suppose it’s true. Our forefathers were Swiss farmers, willing to stand up to the religious people of their day. That took some natural stubbornness.”
“Their issues were much clearer than this situation,” Jake said, pulling into Bishop John’s lane. “That would be easier than excommunicating widows who fall in love.”
“The world and the flesh haven’t changed, Jake,” Mose said, climbing down the buggy step. “They have just taken different forms to tempt us. Falling in love doesn’t change that.”
Jake tied his horse and followed Mose up the walk to the front door. Bishop John opened the door before they arrived, his head framed in the lantern light, his face and beard hidden in the dark.
“You must have bad news,” Bishop John said, his voice soft in the late night air.
“
Jah,
” Mose said. “Will and Rebecca are leaving for sure, and Mary is already well along in her relationship with Mr. Brunson. She had him visiting tonight before we got there, and they both plan to join the Mennonites.”
“Did Mr. Brunson come to this solution at Mary’s invitation?” Bishop John asked.
“She’s claims he didn’t,” Mose said. “Rather Mary said it was
Da Hah
who led them both to attend the meetings on the first night. She took it as some sort of a sign.”
“Then things are worse than we thought,” Bishop John said. “And, Jake, where do you stand after your visits? Surely you see what must be done.”
Jake cleared his throat, “Nothing I heard tonight has caused me to change my mind.”
“I think we need to talk about where we go from here,” Mose said.
“Perhaps,” Bishop John said. “But the night is late already and the mind of man can only handle so much bad news. My heart is stirred deeply, and I don’t wish my emotions to cloud my spirit.
Da Hah
says in His Scriptures that the wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God. Let us sleep and pray on this. We can speak of it tomorrow morning at church.”
“Good night then,” Mose said, stepping back down the porch steps. Jake followed him back to the buggy and they climbed in.
“It was
gut
that we told him,” Jake said, as he let the lines out. “And I’m glad Bishop John didn’t want to discuss it tonight. I really need to get back to Hannah. She will be worried enough the way it is.”
Mose laughed. “It’s funny that you’re agreeing with the Bishop for once. I hope you feel the same way tomorrow. You know that John could really use your support for the vote.”
“Bishop John is a wise man, but I haven’t changed my mind.”
Mose sighed deeply. “I can still remember not that long ago, Jake, when you came to us from working up in those mountains. I guess we could have made a lot of trouble for you. Think about that. You know that one word from Bishop John back to your bishop in Iowa would have stirred up a hornet’s nest, as they say. Don’t you think it’s time you returned the favor?”
“These are matters of the heart,” Jake said, turning the buggy into Mose’s lane. “How can I say I agree when I don’t? You can see already how much trouble this has stirred up. We will be the laughingstock of all the Mennonite world if we excommunicate Ben and Sylvia. They will know why we’ve done so, and they will use it against us. I can hear Ben running his mouth already.”
“I guess that’s not for us to decide,” Mose said, climbing down from the buggy. “But I still think you should support John tomorrow.”
“I’ll support him,” Jake said, keeping a firm grip on the reins.
“That may not be enough,” Mose said. “People are going to see through that. At least that’s my opinion. What we need is a firm and united front. So think about it, Jake. Okay?”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
Mose forced a laugh. “You
are
a stubborn one. Well, good night then. I hope Hannah isn’t too worried.”
“Good night,” Jake said, turning the buggy around. He avoided the ditch and turned on his buggy lights once he was on the main road. In the stillness of the night he rode, thinking and listening to the horse’s hooves on the pavement.
Would Hannah be in tears when he arrived back at the cabin? There had been plenty of reason for her feeling of apprehension. Who would have thought that Mary Keim and Mr. Brunson were up to the things they were? Technically neither had done anything wrong yet, but that would all change tomorrow when Bishop John excommunicated Ben and Sylvia. That action would send an unmistakable signal to the rest of the community.
Jake held the lines in one hand and wiped his face with the other. Should he perhaps support Bishop John fully, lest a real split in the church happen if the members found out there was disagreement in the ministry?
The horse’s pace quickened as Jake turned up the graveled lane. He leaned out of the buggy at the first incline, looking toward the cabin, but he could see nothing. Had Hannah given up on him and gone to bed? Perhaps that would be best instead of waiting up and worrying.
Faint clouds scurried across the moonless sky, and the dark outlines of the mountains on the horizon were drawn by the twinkling stars. Jake settled wearily back into the buggy seat. Would Hannah want him to wake her with the heavy news he had to share? Or should he wait until morning? Hopefully he could unhitch the horse, quietly slip into the house, and crawl into bed without waking her. She needed her rest now more than ever with the
bobli
coming. This church stress certainly wasn’t needed. Yet neither of them had asked for this burden, nor could they control its outcome.
A light from the cabin window caught his eye. Hannah was still up—or perhaps she had fallen asleep on the couch. Still, she would be there when he walked in the front door.
Quickly Jake unhitched, leading Joel into the barn. He whinnied loudly at the sight of Mosey. Jake closed the stall door behind him, shoveling a small scoop of oats into the feed box. The horse had done its duty tonight and deserved a little extra. Had he done
his
duty? That was the question. Mostly he had ridden along in the buggy and listened to Mose.
He pushed the barn door shut behind him, glancing briefly at the starry sky. From the looks of things, the weather would clear off overnight. Now if this church trouble would only blow away this easily. But church troubles rarely do.
Hannah opened the cabin door when Jake walked up onto the porch. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Oh, Jake,” she said. “You didn’t come back for so long. I was worried. And I made your favorite chocolate cake.”
“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Jake whispered. “You need your sleep, and I can eat the cake tomorrow.”
“But I wanted to wait up. And I want to know how things went.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Jake said, leading Hannah inside with one hand and shutting the cabin door with the other. The kerosene lamp burned on the desk, throwing soft shadows on her face. Jake gently ran his fingers over her lips.
“It must be awful news then,” Hannah said, grabbing his fingers in hers. “And it won’t go away by not talking about it.”
“I suppose not,” Jake said, allowing Hannah to pull him down on the couch.
“So what happened?”
Jake spoke in measured tones, tracing the evening’s events and conversations.
“I’m afraid I didn’t do very well,” he said, staring at the lamp on the desk. “Mostly I just listened and rode along.”
“But you’re the younger minister. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t know, but something just doesn’t seem right. And I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“But it’s wonderful news that Mary and Mr. Brunson are getting together. Don’t you think so?”
“I guess that’s the problem. I
do
think so, but I don’t think we’re supposed to feel that way.”
“Lot’s of Amish people join the Mennonites in Indiana. They do so all the time, and no one says much about it.”
“Do you want to join them?” Jake asked, finding Hannah’s face in the semidarkness.
“Jake, of course not. You’re an Amish minister. We can’t leave.”
“What if I weren’t? Would you want to join then?”
“Jake, I can’t believe you’re asking this. Is it because
you
want to join?”
Jake stared into the flickering flame of the kerosene lamp.
“Jake,” Hannah said, pulling on his arm, “surely you don’t want to join, do you?”
“No,” Jake replied, still staring at the lamp. “I just want to get away from the trouble we’re in.” He stood and paced the floor. “Tomorrow I will have to make a decision. There can be no more riding on the fence. I’ll either have to give my full support to Bishop John or hold it back. I can’t do it halfway. The people will figure out we’re not in unity and the situation will get worse.”
“But you can’t go against Bishop John. Not on something like this.”
“Then what am I supposed to do, Hannah? I can’t support what he is doing. He’s only making the conflict worse, but he can’t see it—and I can’t change his mind.”
“But if Will and Rebecca leave and Mary leaves, and nothing is done, we’re likely to lose more members. If they’re not disciplined for attending these meetings, others might attend and we’d lose even more people. That’s what Bishop John must think and, Jake, he’s probably right.”
“
Jah,
but such a vote as drastic as excommunication is likely to drive a wedge between all of us, splitting the church for sure. That will be a whole lot worse than losing a few members.”
“But you’re not the bishop, Jake. John is. This probably weighs more on him than it does on you. He doesn’t want to be responsible for losing members because he didn’t do what he could, when he could.”
“Maybe so,” Jake said, sitting back down. “But I can’t bring myself to give my word to what Bishop John is doing tomorrow.”
“And if you don’t support him, you know what could happen, don’t you? He could call in other bishops to discipline
you.
”
“I know,” Jake said, taking Hannah’s hands in his. “And if I stick by my conscience and that should happen, will you still love me?”
“You know I will,” Hannah said, wrapping her arms around Jake. “I will always love you.”
Hannah tossed in bed. It had to be a dream. The whole world was moving about. Gasping for breath, she was running in the dim moonlight with looming mountains surrounding her. Tall forms of trees raced past her like watchmen in the night. Had they found some wrong in her? Was she being judged for sins yet unknown?
Heart pounding, Hannah came to a halt. Running was getting her nowhere. Panic mounted in her chest. The cabin had to be somewhere close by. It was only a moment ago that Jake had fallen asleep beside her. Had she stepped outside the cabin for some reason and gotten lost?
Dimly through the trees Hannah saw the log walls of a cabin appearing ghostly in the moonlight. Ah, the first sign of home and Jake’s comforting arms. Running again, she approached the wall and reached out for the rough texture of the logs. She leaned against them, absorbing their comforting sturdiness. Slowly Hannah moved to the corner of the cabin, searching in the darkness for the familiar front door and for signs of Jake. But would he be outside looking for her?
But there was no front porch. This was not their cabin. Who lived here? Would they rush out at any moment and confront her? Taking a deep breath Hannah pushed away from the cabin walls, catching a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of her eye. She had been here before, but when?
In silence, Hannah made her way slowly to the front door. This was the cabin where Jake used to live when he worked for the Forest Service spotting fires. Did someone else live here now? Surely she would be able to explain her presence to whoever might be inside. Jake used to say lost people were helped by the men who worked in the mountains.
Carefully Hannah approached the front door of the cabin. It stood open, the slight wind off the mountains blowing freely inside.
“Jake!” she whispered. “Are you here?”
Hannah peered inside. There was nothing to see, and she had no light. Was this a dream? Touching the side of the doorframe, Hannah felt the rough wood. It sure had the feel of a real log cabin.
Perhaps if she went inside and waited Jake would find her in the morning. He would know, wouldn’t he—where she was? This had been his cabin, and somehow he would make the connection. Yet how strange this is. She shouldn’t be here, let alone be lost in the mountains. Stepping inside, Hannah paused as movement came from the shadows. Someone else was here.
“Hello…” she whispered. “I’m lost.”
The answer was a low growl that filled the room. With dread Hannah turned and rushed outside. She stumbled as her dress caught on something. With a cry, she fell forward, breaking her fall with her hands, feeling the slap of bushes on her face as she slid.
A loud rumble rose from the cabin door, and Hannah rolled over to hide her face in her hands. It would be better not to look. Perhaps if she played dead the pursuing animal would leave her alone. Shuffling paws came across the ground, and Hannah peeked through her fingers. The moonlight played on the huge creature’s fur as it approached, his drooling jaw moving slightly.