Second Chances (8 page)

That had been years ago.

Hannah glanced at her sister and a secretive look passed between them. “Leah heard
his name is Freman and he's quite handsome,” she went on, quickly dodging the hand
towel that was thrown in her direction.

“Why would you notice, with Caleb calling on you!”

Hannah flushed at the mention
of her second cousin, Caleb Wagler. While some Amish youth kept their courtships
private until such a time when the wedding was announced by a deacon right after
worship, apparently Caleb was not one of them. Not only did he bring Hannah home
from every youth singing, but he also had made clear to other potential suitors that
he had every intention of marrying Hannah. While she remained silent about her own
feelings on the matter, no one doubted that she shared Caleb's sentiments.

“I'm promised to no one!” Hannah retorted quickly but without credence. “I suppose
I still may ride home with any young man who asks me!” “Girls!” Salome chastised
them with her voice, but her eyes held a sparkle that clearly indicated that she
too hoped that the younger brother of Sara Coblentz might come calling on one of
her
dochders
. But wouldn't Freman be married by now?

Anna felt as if the walls were closing upon her. The lightness in her head was as
intense as the heaviness in her chest. Despite the continuation of the visit, including
two more invitations to supper which she declined, her
mind remained focused on one
realization: Freman was returning to Charm!

It wasn't until later that evening, as she sat upon the edge of her bed, staring
at the empty white wall before her, that she became aware of something even more
consequential: his physical absence had not lessened the emotional turmoil that
she felt, even after so many years, upon hearing his name.

Chapter Three

W
HEN HE WALKED
into the worship service, Anna Eicher had to catch her breath.

For the past week, she had tried to prepare herself for this moment, the moment when
her eyes would fall, once again, upon Freman Whittmore—for the first time in eight
years! She had thought herself ready, her inner discourse aimed at rehashing the
reasons why, despite herself, she had rejected his proposal:
Daed
thought him too
reproachable, and Lydia thought him not worth risking her
daed
's disapproval. And
Anna found their arguments too persuasive.

Yet, nothing could have properly prepared her for when she once again saw his face.
She recognized him immediately when his tall form followed the other Amish men walking
single file into the room, their Sunday hats casting shadows over their brows so
she couldn't see his eyes. It didn't matter. She knew that he wasn't glancing around
the room in order to catch her gaze. He probably didn't even know that she was watching
him moving through the line of empty pine benches, waiting until the men stopped
and sat down, sliding the length of the bench to make room for each other.

He looked the same, she thought, a flurry of emotions coursing through her veins.
For the briefest of seconds, she was no longer sitting on a hard, pine bench but
was transported through her memory to a time, eight years prior, when she had sat
beside him in his borrowed buggy. His strong hands held the reins and he smiled as
he talked to her. When he asked her a question and she responded, he nodded his head
with approval at her words. Respect. That was what he had offered her eight years
ago. Respect and his hand in marriage: two things that, with the deepest sense of
loyalty to her family, she had found herself rejecting.

Not a day had passed when she did not think back to that rejection and the ensuing
grief that she felt when he, caught off-guard with her denial, had slipped his hat
back upon his head and turned to leave. As his buggy pulled away, the dark canopy
shadowing his face, she hadn't called for him to return. Oh, how she had wanted to!
She had wanted nothing more than to run after him and stop the horse, to confess
that it was a mistake and that there was nothing she wanted more than to become his
wife.

But she hadn't.

Yes, not a day had passed without thoughts of Freman Whittmore infiltrating her mind.
As days turned to weeks, weeks into months, and months into years, she wondered of
his circumstances. Where had he gone? What was his occupation? Had he taken a wife?

Now, however, as she snuck another look at him, her heart beat rapidly, for she realized
he wore no beard. Was it possible, she wondered, that he had never married after
all that time?

As if on cue, once the rest of the unmarried men were seated, all of the men reached
up to remove their hats and slide them under their bench. The men in the back of
the room stood up and hung their hats on metal hooks that lined the wall near the
ceiling. Anna normally used this moment as her reminder to fix her attention on the
Ausbund
, the black chunky book that she held in her hands. It felt old, as she knew
very well that it was published some forty years ago. The cover was worn and spoke
of an uncounted number of hands that, over the years, had clutched the book during
just as many worship services. Today, however, she could not keep her eyes from
watching Freman Whittmore, sitting so proper and straight on the bench, his attention
fully turned to the front of the room where no one stood yet, but where the bishop
would eventually stand for his opening sermon.

The
vorsinger
, the young man who started singing the hymns, began the first syllable
of the song, his voice lifting in the air, following an ageless and unwritten tune.
When the rest of the worshippers began to sing with him, the bishop and the
g
'
may
's
three deacons stood up and left the room. Anna glanced at them, just for a second,
before returning her gaze toward Freman. To her surprise, his dark eyes now stared
in her direction, no emotion in his expression. While she felt certain that he knew
her, for it had been only eight years, he showed no sign of recognition. At least,
not on the surface.

“Anna!”

She caught her breath and glanced at the older woman seated beside her. Normally
Elizabeth sat beside her, as she was one of the oldest unmarried women in the church
district, second only to Kate Schwartzentruber, another
older woman known for being
overly righteous and rigid, her hopes of marrying gone with both her youth and her
reputation. Today, however, Anna sat next to Kate. Had Elizabeth not gone traveling,
she, not Anna, would have sat next to Kate, since the members of the
g
'
may
always
sat in order of their age.

“Pay attention!” Kate hissed at Anna, her steely gray eyes flitting in her direction
for just the briefest of moments.

Embarrassed, Anna lowered her gaze to the
Ausbund
and tried to find her place in
the hymn that everyone else sang. Even though she knew the words by heart, she continued
to follow the words in the book, her mouth moving and the words coming out while
her mind wandered back to Freman.

With his dark, curly hair and deep brown eyes, he looked exactly the same as he had
eight years ago. The only differences were subtle signs of aging on his face: wrinkles
by the corners of his eyes and furrows in his brow. He remained as handsome as she
remembered him, perhaps more so, if that were even possible. Of course she knew that
memories often took on a life of their own. Surely hers had exaggerated the depth
of his feelings, and despite the way her mind raced and her pulse quickened, she
tried to convince herself that it had been just a spring romance between them.

“Who is that?”

The soft voice in her ear startled Anna. Without looking, however, she knew who it
was: only Leah, who sat beside her, would dare to whisper during the opening hymn.

Not daring to respond, for surely Kate would have complained afterwards, and probably
directly to the bishop, Anna merely shook her head, just enough to silence Leah.
Yet from the corner of her eye, she saw the slight movement of the other, younger
unmarried women that sat to her left. Their attention was not focused on the bishop
but on the newcomer to their worship service. Anna knew she'd have to answer questions
afterwards if she indicated that she knew his name.

The last thing she wanted to do was to rehash the emotions and the hurt from so long
ago, especially since she had already convinced herself, in just those few minutes,
that his affection had been the fleeting fancy of a young man who, clearly, had not
been truly ready to settle down. Even Cris had taken her refusal in stride, quickly
shifting his attention from Anna to Mary since marriage had been his main intention.
For most Amish men love was not necessarily a precursor to proposals. It was more
important for both parties to have a good standing in the community, a reputation
for righteousness, and a hint of compatibility for the future.

Anna exhaled slowly through her mouth, willing her heart to stop beating so rapidly.

Their courtship had been so secretive. Few people had even suspected that Anna Eicher
rode home from the youth singings with Freman Whittmore. In public settings Freman
was always the last to voice his opinion, never quick to speak, and so when he did,
people listened. As for Anna, her propensity for remaining quiet in group settings
was as renowned as her kindness to individuals. Never one for gossip or judgment,
Anna was known to be the quintessential Amish woman.

Unfortunately, when she was sixteen, what caused the older members of the community
to observe her with respect was the very reason she walked home alone
from the singings
during those early months of her
Rumschpringe
: her reputation for shyness meant no
one offered her a ride home. So she walked alone. It wouldn't have been that way
if Elizabeth hadn't refused to attend the singings. She professed to being offended
by the fast pace of the chosen songs in the youth group. As for Mary, fifteen at
the time, she was too young to accompany Anna. Without either of her sisters, Anna
had no choice but to walk home alone, a fact that hadn't bothered her because she
was more than comfortable in her own thoughts.

And then, one night, Freman had asked her to ride home with him.

“Kneel, Anna!”

Snapping to attention, Anna looked over at Kate, stunned to realize that everyone
was kneeling before their benches, foreheads pressed into clasped hands as they began
to silently pray. Quickly, she slipped off the bench and knelt down, the color rising
to her cheeks as she anticipated quite the tongue scolding from Kate right after
the service. Had she truly been daydreaming for so long that she missed an entire
sermon and another hymn?

For the rest of the service, Anna focused her eyes on the
front of the room, forcing herself to pay attention to the second (and longer) sermon.
When the final hymn was sung, she sang along with the other members of the
g
'
may
,
ignoring the urge to glance in Freman's direction. There was no point in doing so,
she told herself. At almost twenty-five years of age, she had lost the beauty and
zest of her youth. Her skin was too tan and her hands too callused from working
in the gardens. Indeed, she worked so hard that, unlike her two sisters, her hollowed
cheeks
lacked the cheerful roundness that most of the older Amish women touted.

Nee
, like Elizabeth, her time for courting handsome young men was long expired. It
would be an older man, most likely a widower, who would come calling now. And Anna
knew what that meant: young children to raise and a rigid husband to mind. While
she much preferred being married to her memories, she knew that the day would come
when she'd have to make a decision to create new memories to replace the old.