Leah's Choice (13 page)

“And your Aunt Martha? Is she your mother’s sister?”

Leah shook her head. “My Dat was her only brother. She was older. He said she tried to always boss him when they were growing up. My
Grossmama—
you met her at our house—she is their mother. Aunt Martha takes after her, I think. My aunt watches what my sisters and I do, and she tells whoever will listen.”

He chuckled. “She’s judgmental?”

“Exactly.” Leah sighed. “My sister, Miriam, thinks Aunt Martha has a grudge against my mother. It’s true Aunt Martha never cared much for Mam, but I don’t believe she intends harm. Beneath her stern outside is a tender heart. I have to think Aunt Martha means well and is trying to guide us to live a
Plain
life.”

“So, in her eyes, us riding together is wrong.”

Leah nodded. “She definitely won’t approve, especially since we’re riding in this buggy, and you’re driving.” She flashed him a mischievous smile. “Aunt Martha will make a lot more of it than it is.”

“Why
this
buggy?”

“Because it isn’t closed. Anyone can see us—see what we’re doing. It’s called a courting buggy. If you were Amish, and I was with you, people would think we were
walking out
together.”

“By
walking out,
you mean dating?”

“Dating, yes, but a little more serious than that. If we were coming home from a young people’s frolic—a singing or a picnic—that would be one thing. But we’re together in the middle of the day, not part of a group, so other Amish would see us as getting serious about one another.”

“And they wouldn’t if we were together in a closed buggy?”

“If I’d been driving Mam’s closed buggy, I would have picked you up, but I would have worried some. I might even have offered to find you help or go for the gas, but not asked you to ride with me.”

“I’m not sure I understand the logic.”

She chuckled again. “It’s logical to me, but I’m Amish. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Pretend I was Amish. Would I be suitable to ride with you—in your Aunt Martha’s eyes?” The buggy bumped over a rough spot in the road. “Do you want to take the reins? Am I driving all right?”

“You’re doing fine.”

He glanced at the front left wheel. “That looks a little wobbly. The whole carriage seems small and light. Are you sure it’s safe to drive on this road?”

“It’s a solid buggy,” she assured him. “My Dat brought it with him from his home in Pennsylvania. He courted my mother in this buggy, and he always kept it in great shape.”

They reached the intersection of a busier road. “I’ll take over now,” she said. “Blackie gets a little skittish when the big trucks pass.” He handed over the reins and Leah guided the animal onto the blacktop and then onto the right shoulder. A car whizzed by them without slowing down. The horse flinched but kept trotting.

“If you were Amish, hmm.” Leah took a moment to consider his question. “First,” she said, “it might depend if you were from our church or one equally conservative. We’re very strict, compared to some communities. You see?” She pointed to the waistband on her dress. “No buttons. Our women use straight pins. In some churches, men are allowed to use buttons, but they must be small and not fancy. It’s because back in the old countries, in Germany and Switzerland, before we came to America, soldiers wore shiny buttons on their uniforms. We were driven from our homes, tortured and sometimes burned at the stake by soldiers because of our religion.”

He nodded. “I know the history of the persecutions. It was the same with the Mennonites. You know that the Amish, your Amish, were once members of the Mennonite church?”

“Of course. Jacob Amman broke away from the Swiss Mennonites because he felt that they weren’t strict enough. But we Amish still share many of the same customs with your church, such as foot washing after communion and believing in adult-only baptisms.”

“Okay.” Daniel ran a hand through his short hair. “Say that I am from your Amish church or one just as conservative. Then what would I have to do to satisfy your Aunt Martha?”

Leah turned her attention to a tractor-trailer coming down the road toward them. “Easy, boy,” she cooed to Blackie. “Steady.” And then to Daniel, she said, “It might depend on how well prepared you were to provide for a family. Are you a serious boy or one who has paid attention to lots of girls? Do you have a good trade? If you’re a farmer, do you own land or have hope of inheriting some?”

“So, if I’m poor, I don’t have a chance with you?”

“It depends. Do you own a good horse and buggy? Are you willing to work hard to learn new skills? How respectable is your family? Would your bishop or church elders speak for your character?”

“Sounds like your aunt is hard to please.”

“She would be right to take all those things into consideration. Marriage is more than just between a man and a woman,” Leah said. “It’s of great importance to the family and the community. It’s not a decision to take lightly.”

“I agree,” Daniel said. “But what if I didn’t own land and didn’t have a bishop to recommend me, but we really liked each other. Would you let me ride with you, then?”

Her pulse quickened. “I might,” she answered softly. “I
am
riding with you. Tomorrow? The food bank? Will you and Caroline pick me up at the house?”

“Yes, about twelve-thirty, if that’s all right.”

For the next quarter of an hour, Leah steered the conversation to safer topics: what her duties would be as a volunteer and how many clients they could expect to serve. As they approached a quieter side street, she guided the horse left past several new houses with well-kept front yards. “There’s a small convenience store at the next corner. They sell gas, and I’m sure they’ll let you borrow a gas can.”

“I’m glad you came along when you did and took pity on me,” Daniel teased. “It would have been a long walk.”

She laughed, then smiled shyly. “I want to thank you for listening…about Johanna.”

“I know you’re worried about her. I would be too. I wish I could do something to help.”

“You have,” she said sincerely. “Sometimes just talking to someone makes you feel better… But you won’t say anything to anyone else, right?”

“Absolutely not, not unless you want me to. You can count on me, Leah.”

A few minutes later, they reached the store with its two gas pumps outside. Daniel bought her a bottle of iced tea, and while she was waiting, a pickup pulled into the lot with Roland Byler sitting in the truck bed. By the time Daniel got his gas, Leah had invited Roland to ride home with them.

Leah quickly made the introductions. “Roland is Charley’s brother. His usual ride was sick today and his boss drove out from the job site to pick him up. It will be a tight squeeze, but we can all fit, and it will save Roland’s boss from driving him home.”

Having Roland in the buggy kept her and Daniel from continuing their discussions about Johanna and Aunt Martha. Luckily, the two men seemed to hit it off, and by the time they got back to Daniel’s van, the three of them were all laughing and joking as if they’d been long time friends.

“Thanks for the ride,” Daniel said, once he got the big van’s engine running. “See you tomorrow.”

“Twelve-thirty,” Leah replied.

As they drove away, she asked Roland how his wife was doing. A few weeks earlier, Pauline had suffered a miscarriage of twins. Due to juvenile diabetes, her health was unstable, and the pregnancy had been very stressful on her body. The community had rallied around the young family, helping out by bringing meals and taking care of two-year-old Jared so that Pauline could regain her strength. The medical bills were high, and Roland had taken a construction job for a few weeks to take up some of the slack.

“Better, by the grace of God,” Roland answered as she passed the reins to him so that he could drive. “So many praying for her had to help. But she mourns the two she lost.”

“That’s natural,” Leah said. “There can be nothing worse than the loss of a child for a mother.”

“I hate to see Pauline grieving. But if I’d lost her, I don’t know how I would have stood it. We’ve had so many close calls over the last few years. Having Jared is our miracle.”

“A fine little boy he is, too. A blessing to you both.”

Roland flicked the reins and Blackie crossed the intersection at a trot. “We were afraid he might be born with Pauline’s sugar, but he wasn’t. Not yet, at least. She worries over him day and night. Too much, I think.” He sighed deeply. “It’s good of the neighbors to watch him for her, and we appreciate it, but she’s so afraid something will happen to him when he’s away from her that I wonder if it’s worth it.”

Leah wasn’t sure what to say. Miriam had mentioned the same thing to Mam, and she wasn’t the only one. Other women in the congregation, including Aunt Martha, had noticed how obsessed Pauline had become with her son’s health since she’d lost the babies. However, Leah didn’t feel it was her place to add weight to Roland’s burden.

But he didn’t seem to notice that she hadn’t spoken and continued on. “Don’t get me wrong, Leah. I understand how much Pauline must be hurting, but Jared’s not sick. He’s strong, and it’s not good for him to be shut up in the house with her so much. She doesn’t trust me to take him in the buggy to church services or even to the barn anymore, for fear the cow will kick him or he’ll climb the hayloft ladder and fall.”

“We’ll keep praying for her—for all three of you,” Leah said. “And if there’s anything we can do to help, just ask. Anything.”

“Your family’s been good to us—all of you. I can’t thank you enough.”

A van full of Amish men, driven by an English woman, passed. The men waved, and Leah and Roland waved back. “People will be saying we’re courting, us being in your Dat’s courting buggy.”

It was good to see him smiling. Everyone in Seven Poplars liked Roland, and his name had been mentioned as a possible candidate for preacher the next time there was an opening. But, according to Charley, Pauline’s illness had been hard on Roland. Usually a jolly and good-natured person, he’d become much more serious and quiet.

“Ya,”
she teased. “Maybe they’ll say you’re turning to one of those religions where you can have two wives at one time.”

“Lord forbid! One wife is all I can manage. God gave me a good one, and I’ll not tempt fate by looking elsewhere, not for love nor money.” They came to Roland and Pauline’s lane and he brought Blackie to a stop. “This is fine,” he said. “I can walk up the drive.” He swung down and got his tools out of the back. “But I’m curious. Is there something going on between you and that Mennonite, Daniel?”

“He’s a friend. I found him with his van broke down. Was I to just drive by and leave him?”

Roland raised a brow suspiciously. “There’s bound to be talk, and not about me. You be careful, Leah. A good reputation is the finest thing a woman can own. You wouldn’t want to give people reason to think you’d stray from the path. Especially since your mother was born Mennonite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Roland,” she answered, trying to keep from showing how the question peeved her. “After all, you know I’m at the running-around time.” She lifted her brows. “No telling what I’ll get up to.”

“Amen to that.” He grinned. “So long as you come to the church, be baptized and put on the black. We all think too much of you and your family to have it any other way.”

“It’s a matter of choice,” she reminded him.

“It’s a matter of your soul.” He slung his tools over his back, turned, and strode up the lane. “Thanks for the ride,” he called. “I appreciate it.”

* * *

The next afternoon, Leah joined Daniel and Caroline at the food bank. Leslie was supposed to help as well, but she’d lost a filling and had to go to the dentist. That left the three of them to unload food donations, keep the boxes filled and wait on clients. Not only were they on their feet from the moment they’d walked into the building, but they barely had time to catch their breath.

Leah was busy dealing with all sorts of people, including several women who spoke only Spanish, an elderly man in a wheelchair with a hearing problem and a young mother with three small, shrieking children.

At first Leah filled cardboard boxes with rice, beans, canned fruit, powdered milk, pasta, jars of spaghetti sauce and an assortment of canned vegetables, while Daniel carried perishable goods in from a refrigerated truck and moved cases of food to the assembly tables. But soon Caroline had a line of waiting and sometimes impatient customers. Leah came to the front to assist her, and when the crowd thinned out to just a steady stream, Caroline traded jobs with her. Leah had rarely spoken to so many Englishers in one day, and she’d rarely had to deal with so many questions and different situations.

The problem for her wasn’t that she was overwhelmed by the task; rather it was that she had such a good time meeting new challenges. Most of the strangers she met were surprised to be waited on by an Amish woman, and the majority of them had questions about her clothing and her faith. She answered as simply and as clearly as possible while managing to retain her good humor. Many of the clients were facing hard times financially, and it was so rewarding to be able to help, if only in a small way.

Truly, Leah thought, she was getting more from volunteering than those who’d come to accept the donations. Ever since she could remember, her mother had kept in mind those in the community who were less fortunate. Leah and her sisters had helped prepare meals, can food to share with the elderly and the sick, and welcomed guests to their table at mealtime. But in her home, charity had always been offered within the Amish circle.

Mam had warned her that being among the English might tempt her to question her faith, but Leah was learning that it might not be in the way her mother thought it would be. Simply by taking part in assisting strangers who were having a difficult time feeding their children made Leah wonder why her church didn’t extend a hand to outsiders. She’d always been taught that her people were God’s chosen ones, that if they lived according to His word as revealed in the Bible and followed the rules of the
Ordnung
, they were living a good and proper life. But was it possible that God wanted something more from her? And had he meant for Daniel to cross her path and throw open a window to a larger world?