Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) (79 page)

“Samuel, we have known each other since we were kids, and I just think that it is so good that we don’t grow tired of each other,” said Mary. She was hoping to probe Samuel’s mind more. To see how much he really liked her.

“I have thought long and hard about that,” replied Samuel. Mary held her breath.
Thinking
was not always the best thing to do while courting. “But I think we should lay down first before talking.” They both got into bed, with the short bundling board between them. “I like you a lot, and I have been thinking that we need to talk to each other in a more serious fashion. We have always been great friends, but we always seemed to just have fun and mess around with each other. Shouldn’t we talk about life, and what we want? Our dreams for the future?”

This is what Sarah feared. She didn’t want to talk about serious matters, because serious matters depressed her. And she realized that such things didn’t come easily with her and Samuel. “I think that I can see your point. I just know that I want to be a good wife one day who supports her husband. What more could a girl want?”

“I know you want those things, and they are commendable and I love you for that. But I don’t think that you are telling me everything about what is going on with your family.” Mary could tell that it was hard for Samuel to talk about these things.

“The truth is, ever since father passed, we are having trouble paying all of our bills. We might not be able to keep the house and the farm. Mama and I are very scared. I know it is not what you want to hear. I know you want me to be happy and carefree. But that is the truth of the matter. I am sorry that I have to tell you these things.” Mary’s voice was filled with sorrow as she fought back tears. But she told the truth, even though she knew she was disappointing the person she cared for most.

“Mary, you know that my feelings for you cannot be dampened by financial problems. What are you worried about?” Samuel was trying to encourage her.

“I don’t know how I can leave mama with all of this going on. Am I supposed to expect you to just live with me and mama? Is that the kind of life you want? I couldn’t hope that for you. I care for you too much. I hear you talk. I know your dreams. You want to own a lot of land one day, to have a large family and to see your children run free. You want good things Samuel. I want those things too. But I feel that if you are with me, you won’t be able to have them.”

Samuel was beginning to understand the situation more. “We could work hard now and help your mama out and then one day we could be on our own.”

“Samuel, you don’t understand the type of debt that we are in. It is the type of debt that makes one a slave, a prisoner in your own house. That is what my family is facing. It is not as easy as you think, trust me.” Sarah began to cry. She wanted more than anything for the situation to not be so. She wished that her father was still alive, or that he had already paid off the farm and the house. She wished that Samuel was wealthy and could help somehow. But the truth was none of these things.

“Mary, we will figure something out. God always provides for those who love him, right?” Samuel said, hoping to offer some comfort.

“Right,” whispered Mary. She wasn’t sure if she believed it.

*****

John kept waiting for a response, but none came. He turned around to leave when suddenly the door opened. “Who are you,” asked an old lady. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have never seen you before, stranger.” The lady sounded kind enough. But why wasn’t it his family?

“My name is John Schrock. I grew up in this house. I was expecting my family to still be here. Who are you?” asked John.

“My name is Sarah, Sarah Yoder,” she said. “The Schrock’s haven’t lived here in years. How is it that you grew up here but you did not know that they are no longer here? Wait, you must be…” Sarah stopped in mid-sentence. “The prodigal son...returned.”

“I gather that is how I am known around these parts,” replied John. He hadn’t figured out if that was a good or bad thing yet.

“After you left, your family history has not been so good. You better come in. I don’t want you to hear about all of this while you are standing up. Be seated.” She offered him a seat in a rocking chair. “Parents always know that there is a chance that one of their children will leave. You don’t know what it is like for a mother to see her son go off on rumspringa. It is a painful time, filled with worry and prayer. But, you came back from rumspringa, didn’t you.”

John nodded. Rumspringa usually happens in the mid teenage years he remembered.

“So when you came back, your mother was thrilled. She thought that you had returned for good, that you would remain a good and true and loyal Amish son for the rest of her days. But something happened. I wasn’t here, and I don’t know why you left. But I knew your mother and I know that you left, suddenly, even before your 21st birthday.” The old lady got up to get a glass of water. “Here drink this.You look like you have had a long day.”

The water was good. “I did leave. Looking back I don’t know why. I regret it now, but I can’t take it back.” John was beginning to fear the worst. “So what happened to my mother and father and the rest of my family? You never got to that part yet.”

The old lady continued. “Your mother was stricken with grief the likes of which I had never seen before. You were her oldest, and she loved you more than you know. I don’t think that any son could possibly
understand
how much he is loved by his mother. I have had sons myself, I should know. Your father did not take it well either. He blamed himself. Eventually your mother fell into such a deep depression that she was bedridden. She was that way for years and years. It was around five years ago when she passed away. So you must have been gone for four years by that point.”

“My mother is dead?” John looked incredulous and then nearly hysterical. He had come home to face his problems, but not this. “My mother is dead? And what happened to the rest of my family?” He was near tears now.

“Your father, Jeremiah, was filled with great sorrow over your loss and then your mother’s death. He couldn’t maintain his duties on the farm because of it. He would wander outside at night, seeking you or his wife, or for God to send an Angel. Anything besides the loneliness of his own home. He had to sell the farm and the house to pay off his debts. Now he lives a few miles from here in a small cabin. I believe that his children still stay with him, helping him cope with day to day life.”

John wanted to run. He wanted to call the cab to pick him up and take him back to the city. He would go back and get a nice hotel room and go online and look at his bank account. He had accumulated a lot of money while he was gone. He wanted to spend it on nights on the town and going to movies and shows. He wanted to do anything that would numb his mind to what he had just heard. But he knew he couldn’t. He was in this situation because he had done what he wanted to do. He knew the only way to break the cycle was to do what he should do.

“You must take me to my family. I must see them, I can still help them,” said John.

The old lady shook her head. “It has been almost a decade since they have seen you. Long ago your father swore you off. I don’t think that he would just welcome you back.”

“But I must try,” demanded John.

“Suit yourself,” she said. I am too old to take you there. But I can tell you how to get there.”

The old lady explained the way. It was only a few miles down the road and then a few miles over a clearing near the woods. He would walk all night if he had to.

“You know we don’t see much of them nowadays. Even at the community gatherings, they rarely show up. Maybe you can change things for them.”

“I owe them at least that much, to try,” said John. He thanked the old lady and was on his way. The pain of guilt for what he had done was acute. He walked faster. John was determined to do the right thing from now on.
Was this God’s way of shaping his character?

*****

The next morning after breakfast, Mary said goodbye to Samuel. He had to return home to attend to his chores. They had enjoyed their time together. But the morning was filled with an overarching sadness that permeated and tinted everything. Mary knew that she was a slave to the debt that her father had left her. Samuel knew that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life paying off a debt that wasn’t his own. Deborah wished her husband was still around and could
make
things right.

“He is a good man,” said Deborah. “I wish that you would be with him. He will make you a happy wife and you will have a good life.”

“But Mama, what about you and Ruth and the farm? I told Samuel our situation, mama. I don’t think that he is going to be proposing to me anytime soon,” said Mary.

Deborah looked full of sadness. “You know you didn’t have to, Mary. This is not your debt. It is my debt. I was your father’s wife, not you. This is my reality, and my life’s problems, not yours. You didn’t have to tell him anything.”

“And was I supposed to get married and live in a nice house while I see you suffering? I couldn’t bear it Mama. I had to tell him. I don’t care if he doesn’t want any part of me now. Mama, a true man will find a way to fix this if he really cares,” cried Mary, now with tears streaming down her face. She embraced her mother.

“Child, you are much too sweet for your own good. A man’s measure is not just in his ability to provide, but it is important. If you want someone who can provide and take care of all of us, then you are free to want that. I just want you to be happy,” explained her mother.

“Mama, you have always been there for me, and now I want to be there for you. I am confident that there will be a way out of this. We probably can’t even imagine what it is yet.”

Mama smiled. “You know, Mary, in life there are always trials. But you can’t let that constantly make you unhappy. For if you do, you will never have a chance to be happy. Now, about that gathering tonight. I think that we should focus on that.”

“Yes, we will get our chores done as quickly as we can and then get dressed and ready to go.” Mary had at least a semblance of happiness now, even if she had to fake it. They both knew that they could not possibly hope to get all of their chores done. Not by themselves.

*****

John knew that the Amish were a loving people. But they could be austere as they were a very rule abiding people. When he knocked on his father’s door, he gulped, nervous about what he would say and how he would react. The door opened.

“Father,” John said. He looked older, his face more wizened. There was a sadness to him that was different from what John remembered.

“My son, you have come back.” He was startled, seemingly taken aback. “You were gone for a long time…” John’s father looked almost dazed. He looked like he could be happy to see his son or angry. There was no way to tell. John hugged his father. His father embraced him, but then slowly pulled away. “Much has changed since you left. We have a new bishop now…”

John sensed something was wrong. “A new bishop? And what does that have to do with anything?”

“The new bishop is not as forgiving of those who leave as the last one. You know the rules, John. You have caused so much pain to our family and this community. Do you know what happened to your mother?”

John knew. He nodded. This was the reaction that he feared he would get. “But father, I want to come back. I want to build a relationship with God, and with you. There is nothing for me in the outside world. I know that now. There has to be a way.”

Jeremiah shook his head. “I don’t know if that is possible. You can come in, and stay the night, but you will not be welcomed in this community. I know that for sure.” Jeremiah hugged his son again. But it was filled with the sadness that it could not last.

Father and son sat at the table and talked. John’s siblings joined in. They were much older, now grown, but had to stay to look after their father. “Is the bishop so determined in his mind that there is no way I could ever be welcomed back?” asked John.

“Son, you know the history of our church. You know that when a person is excommunicated, it is a strong and nearly permanent severance from the community. I would never say there is no hope though. There have been instances when a person has been welcomed back in.”

“And under what circumstances? What did the person have to do to be welcomed back?” asked John. He wondered if he had made the wrong decision in coming here.

“You know what we believe, my son. You know that we value work and contributing to the community. We are not allowed to have insurance, even, because we are to depend on each other for help. That is our way of life; it will never change.” Jeremiah got a glass of water. “Think of the negative impact you have had. How doesthe bishop know that you are not going to continue in your destructive ways? How do I know that you have changed?” Jeremiah lowered his head in sadness. “Our austere life makes us who we are. We are simple folk, and we do not question much. If we did, we would not be who we are. I think that tomorrow you should go to the bishop and talk with him. I do not know what he will say, but there is always a chance.”

“I will do that,” said John. “But for now, let us have one more night like old times. It
will
do me
more good
than you can imagine.”