Authors: Beverly Lewis
Tags: #FIC042000, #FIC053000, #FIC026000, #Amish—Fiction, #Sisters—Fiction, #Lancaster County (Pa.)—Fiction, #Christian fiction
“For everything, a time and season,” Edie agreed. “Such a shame when old age creeps up, ya know. Next thing, health begins to slide, too.”
Tilly pursed her lips. Despite Daed’s heart, it was hard to think of her parents growing old.
“Don’t be a stranger, all right?” Edie said and gave a wave when Tilly mentioned she ought to get going.
Tilly thanked her, but there was no changing her stranger status this late in the game. “Tell Josie I saw you, all right?” Tilly added.
“That I will.” Edie walked with her partway down the busy aisle. “Awful nice seein’ you again.”
On the way back toward Strasburg, it wasn’t running into Josie’s mother that occupied Tilly’s thoughts. Her parents’ upcoming move took precedence, and Tilly couldn’t help thinking this was partly why Melvin had urged her and Ruth home.
W
ill Kauffman’s open buggy was parked halfway into Daed’s driveway, black and sparkling with polish in the early evening light. Just a few short minutes before, Ruth had seen Will dart across the back lawn, then open the barn door and disappear inside. Curious, she walked downstairs to peer out the back door window, wondering what on earth Will was doing there. Since he hadn’t come to the door and knocked, she guessed he wasn’t there to see her.
A
relief
.
“Must be returning something to Daed,” she murmured, not wanting to snoop.
She’d heard her father’s heavy footsteps on the stairs not long ago, so she assumed he was more rested now and out in the barn.
Where Will is . . .
Ruth refused to stand there and wait for very long. She had other things to occupy her time, didn’t she? Things like preparing supper and setting the table. Mamm would be back down to join her in the kitchen any moment—things were running behind this busy day.
She wouldn’t let herself think of stepping outside and
calling to Will, if she happened to see him coming this way. No, that was the farthest thing from her mind.
Melvin came across the cold remains of a cigar out near the outhouse. He headed back to the barn and went to the stable, wondering where Caleb and Benny were getting their cigars. Somewhere in Strasburg or Lancaster, no doubt. Of course, there was always the possibility they were rolling their own. One of his uncles had done the selfsame thing when he was a teenager. It wasn’t so much Caleb and Benny’s smoking behind the trees that irked Melvin, but rather where their sneaking around might lead them. He prayed that, in the long run, it wouldn’t lead them out of the church.
Like Tilly and Ruth.
On a happier note, just knowing his sisters were home, even for this short visit, was something of a comfort. And now with word out that Daed and Mamm planned to scale back immediately, and that Sam was definitely taking over the dairy, Melvin couldn’t help but think it was nothing short of providential that he’d contacted Tilly and Ruth. The fact that they had actually returned after initially digging in their heels, well, it just seemed mighty surprising, as he thought about it. “Even miraculous,” he whispered to himself as he worked to refresh the bedding straw.
Thank the Good Lord.
Potatoes were boiling in Mamm’s big black pot as Ruth carried four plates over to the table and glanced outside. Her breath caught in her throat. There, just outside the window,
a young woman was sitting in Will’s courting carriage. For the life of her, Ruth didn’t know how she’d missed this.
So he
is
seeing someone!
she decided. No wonder he’d asked to talk to her earlier. “He must want to tell me he’s engaged,” Ruth said right out.
In her mind, she played back the conversation—if she could even call it that—out on the road earlier today.
Will said it was important. . . .
But did she really want to hear about the pretty girl with strawberry-blond hair just out the window? Ruth turned away with half a notion to pull the blind down so she wasn’t tempted to gawk.
Puh!
Why should he have to tell her of his engagement? There was simply no need!
Tilly returned just in time for supper. Daed nodded at her as he came indoors for the meal, and Tilly did her best to greet him cordially, though the words sounded stilted even to her. She was uncertain what to do and was relieved when it was time for all of them to take a place at the table, followed by the silent prayer.
When the blessing was finished, Tilly passed the mashed potatoes to Mamm, who in turn handed them to Daed. The thick chicken gravy followed.
The first part of the meal passed mostly in silence until they’d eaten their fill, and Tilly was encouraged by her father’s appetite after his earlier sick spell. The color in his face had returned somewhat, and he seemed to be feeling better.
An
answer to prayer.
Ruth, however, appeared almost nervous. Tilly wondered
if her sister was already feeling homesick, realizing their visit was drawing to a close. Or was she simply tense due to this being their first meal together, the four of them? The latter seemed more likely.
As Tilly had expected, Daed was aloof and only glanced at her now and then, not saying much. She recalled what Mamm had said about Daed’s being upset at God and shuddered a bit.
Then, without warning, Ruth sat up straight in her chair and announced, “I’d like to stay the week and help Mamm sort things, Tilly.” Ruth looked at her, then at Daed. “If that’s all right.”
“Why, sure ’tis,” Mamm was quick to say. “But how will you get home?”
Shyly, Ruth replied, “I’ve thought it over. I’ll take a bus. No need to worry about me.”
Tilly was baffled beyond words at this sudden news.
“I’d planned to miss work on Monday anyway, and my boss told me before I left to take extra time if I wanted. I just need to let him know.”
“Well, wasn’t that nice,” Mamm remarked.
“You’re welcome to stay, too, Tilly.” Ruth’s eyes were pleading.
Daed brusquely cleared his throat and looked toward the window.
He’d rather I was on my way,
Tilly thought.
“Sure, you’re welcome, too, dear,” Mamm chimed in. “Why not sleep on it . . . decide tomorrow, on the Lord’s Day.
Wunnerbaar
-gut
things can happen on His day, ya know.”
Tilly had heard this plenty of times growing up, but she wasn’t so sure it would prove true in this case.
“Please think about it.” Ruth reinforced her campaign.
“Mamm’s right,” Tilly said at last. “I’ll sleep on it.”
A smile blossomed on Ruth’s face.
She thinks I’ve decided,
Tilly thought, not so amused. Quickly, she changed the subject. “Guess who I ran into at Bird-in-Hand market this afternoon?”
Mamm looked startled. “You went all the way there today?”
“Must’ve been Edith Riehl,” Daed said, finally joining in the conversation.
Tilly nodded. “Yes, and Edie happened to say you were moving soon. I expect that’s the reason for the sorting Ruthie wants to help with.”
Mamm sighed loudly. “Well, for pity’s sake. The word’s out.” She began to unfold the plan to sort and pack up on Monday through Wednesday, then move to the attached
Dawdi
Haus
on Thursday. “Lord willing, of course.”
“
Jah
, if
Gott’
s
hand’s in it, we’ll move just thataway,” Daed said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve cuff. His eyes squinted nearly shut as he looked Tilly’s direction.
“Melvin’s offered some boxes he has sitting around in the cellar,” Mamm mentioned. “And muscle power, too.”
“Just don’t walk to Melvin’s through the woodlot after dark,” Daed said, eyes serious as he glanced first at Ruth, then Tilly. “Or anytime, really.” He emphasized this with a deep frown.
Usually, it was Mamm saying it wasn’t smart to cut through the woodlot.
“Better to go out
on the road, or around through the pasture,”
she’d often advised.
Tilly had ignored the admonition more times than she cared to disclose, knowing that both alternate routes took longer. She’d never seen anything to worry about in there. But what did she know? Maybe someone had gotten bitten by a woodchuck or a snake.
“How much work can you really afford to miss, Ruth?”
Tilly asked, wondering if her younger sister had money socked away somewhere.
When Ruth didn’t reply, Tilly decided not to take it up at the table, not with their parents observing. She did intend to get to the bottom of Ruth’s sudden change of plans. It was hard to fathom that Ruth merely wanted to help Mamm and Daed move. There had to be more behind it.
“Will Kauffman stopped by to return some tools,” Daed said then. “Forgot to mention that earlier.”
Will was here?
Tilly wondered if Ruth’s conniving former beau had cornered the poor, vulnerable girl and talked her into taking him back. And looking now at her sister’s blushing red face, Tilly guessed she might be on to something.
I leave here for
a couple of hours, and Ruth’s lured right back
to the Plain life
.
F
eeling out of sorts, Tilly retired early that night. She was so rattled, she didn’t even accept Aunt Naomi’s invitation to sit and have some decaffeinated tea before bedtime. Later, she fretted, unable to sleep, and finally wandered out into the front room and sat there in the dark.
This can’t
be happening. After everything, is Ruth willing to give up
her wonderful modern life? Has she forgotten what Will did
to her? Does she relish the thought of being totally
submissive to someone like him?
Tilly’s mind ran wild with all sorts of worrisome thoughts. Nighttime hours had a tendency to stir up such thinking.
Yet truthfully, she was beginning to think her sister had never gotten over Will Kauffman, which was downright confusing. All those letters flying back and forth between her and Ruth, and all the many months of counseling her away from such a young man and his questionable leanings. Was it all for naught?
Tired, she trudged back to her room and lifted the quilts to get into bed. She fought sleep, even though she was worn
out, though more from the energy that went into the stress and frustration of such a day.
Eventually an idea hit her like lightning, and she sat up in bed.
I have to stay, too! To protect
Ruthie.
Yes, tomorrow she would call Kris and ask his opinion.
Surely he won’t mind . . . and neither will his
mother.
“My mother-in-law will be happily running the ship by the time I get back,” Tilly whispered, smiling into the darkness. “But I’ll be
here
with Ruth, talking sense to her. Like always.”
Ruth shed her covers and rose to light the small lantern, anxious to write a prayer in her small notebook, something she did when she was this keyed up. Although she had been quick to spout off her wishes, despite what she’d said, she had fears that her job might not still be waiting when she returned to Rockport. Yet staying to help her parents with this transition seemed important, especially now, and she prayed that Tilly might see the light and stay around, too. The extra days might give Tilly and Daed an opportunity to reconnect . . . before his health worsened. At supper, she’d witnessed anew the unspoken tension between her father and sister.
Why has it always been that
way?
She began to pray about that, as well as the other things that slipped unbidden into her mind.
O
Lord, bless Will and his sweetheart . . . give them a good
life together. And many little ones,
she wrote.
Then, wanting to do the right thing by her former beau, she decided to hear him out tomorrow after Preaching service and the shared meal. Yes, she would take the high road. It was the gracious thing to do, after all.
The next morning, Tilly got up, washed, and dressed quickly so she could help Aunt Naomi prepare breakfast for Uncle Abner before the couple headed off to church. Tilly knew for certain she would not be attending the Preaching service up the road. She was far too sleepy to last through such a lengthy meeting.
“Didn’t ya sleep so
gut
?” Aunt Naomi asked when she saw Tilly come into the kitchen.
“Hardly at all.”
“Guess you’ll be noddin’ off in church, then.”
“Actually, I’m staying home to rest,” she told her aunt. “If you don’t mind.”
Aunt Naomi smoothed her gray work dress and apron and gave her a nod. “Well, then you can keep your uncle company, maybe, since he didn’t sleep much either last night.”
“Is he under the weather?”
Her aunt explained that he sometimes had bad headaches, but she thought they were caused more by stress than anything. “Growin’ older ain’t so easy,” she told Tilly. “You’ll find out, in another few decades.”
Tilly wasn’t looking forward to it. “Sure, I’ll be happy to keep him company, if we don’t both fall asleep in our coffee.”
This brought a big smile to Aunt Naomi’s face. “You should just go back to bed after breakfast. A full stomach should put you right out,” she said. “I know it does me.” She went on to say she’d been known to fall sound asleep during the sermons, but as far as she knew, folk thought she was just being pious, keeping her head down in prayer.
“Mammi Lantz used to do the same thing,” Tilly mentioned.
“Back when you were still Amish?” Naomi said out of the blue. And just as quickly, her dear face turned cherry red. “I didn’t mean . . .” she sputtered.
“Don’t fret about it, Aendi.” Tilly cracked farm-fresh eggs into a bowl and stirred in some raw milk to make scrambled eggs, Uncle Abner’s favorite.
“He likes a piece of cheese on top,” Aunt Naomi mentioned. “Guess I’ve spoiled him.”
“It’s wonderful to be spoiled now and then,” Tilly thought out loud. “That’s something I never really experienced until I married Kris.”
A peculiar look altered Aunt Naomi’s expression. “You weren’t made over much when you were little?”
“By Mamm, sure.”
“Not your Daed, too?”
“If he did, I don’t remember.” The painful words spilled out.
“Oh now, Tilly, how could that be?”
It just was,
she thought, recalling all the love Daed showered upon both Ruth and Anna and their brothers. Again, it was simply a fact . . . not something to fuss over. “No need to feel sorry for me,” she told Aunt Naomi.
“Well, but I do.” Her aunt glanced back over her shoulder at her as she carried coffee to the table. “I truly do.”
It was enough that someone believed her and didn’t assume that Tilly was sorely mistaken.
Always wrong,
she thought sadly.
The church gathering was well attended, but Ruth felt strange sitting in the back row, dressed as she was, though quite modestly by English standards. On the opposite side,
to her right, a row of young men in their late teens and early twenties sat together. Will Kauffman and Lloyd Blank were at the far end of the row.
They must still be friends . . . and
on the edge of the church,
Ruth thought, aware of someone’s cologne. If Will planned to marry soon—and the girl in his courting buggy was certainly Old Order Amish—then he would be joining church somewhere. Whether or not it was Eden Valley, she had no way of knowing.
During “
Das Loblied
”
—
the praise song and traditional second hymn—she looked about to see if she could spot the pretty young woman she’d seen with Will yesterday in his open carriage—surely a sign they were at least courting, if not engaged. Was she also attending church here today?
Ruth looked for Tilly, as well, but didn’t see her sitting in back with the other Englishers. She looked up now toward the front to Mamm and two of Mamm’s older sisters. It was fascinating to see the large number of young women with babes in arms—girls she’d grown up with who’d already settled down and married.
Are they happy?
she wondered, then, chagrined, she realized she was not being reverent. She ought to rein in her thoughts at this holy hour.
I’m
like an unruly filly!
After a good long rest, Tilly wandered back downstairs and found Uncle Abner sitting at the kitchen table with his German
Biewel
open next to his King James. He was practicing his English, and then his German, by doing so. He looked up when she came in, and she noticed he wore a white long-sleeved shirt and a black vest and trousers—his church clothes—in
honor of the Lord’s Day even though he’d stayed home. He motioned for her to join him.
She sat without speaking, feeling somewhat refreshed from the extra sleep following breakfast. She’d definitely eaten more than she was accustomed to at home with Kris and the twins.
“You look bright-eyed now, Tilly.”
“Did you rest, too?” she asked quickly.
“Quite a bit,
jah
. Not sure what kept me awake last night.” He smiled. “Might’ve been the full moon. I tend to be more wakeful during that phase.”
“I didn’t sleep that well, either,” she admitted. “Lots on my mind, I guess.”
“Well, it must be a bit strange comin’ back here,” Abner suggested. “’Specially when there are some sad tokens from things long past.” His solemn look was gentle.
She didn’t wish to rehash her past troubles relating to Daed. Just the awareness of his standoffishness toward her was difficult enough. And not much seemed to have changed, although he had been a bit more talkative than she’d expected.
“If ya don’t mind, I’d like to tell you a story,” Uncle Abner said, folding his hands over his German Bible.
She nodded, interested.
“I was just a boy, oh, maybe nine or ten,” he began, a smile on his wrinkled face. “I happened to overhear my father talking to the preacher in the stable, and, lo and behold, if it didn’t sound like he was braggin’ on me. He said, ‘Well now, Preacher, I’d have to say my boy Abner’s a mighty hard worker. Dependable, too.’ And right then and there, the Preacher decided, based solely on
Dat’s
account of me, that he wanted to hire me to groom his road horses.”
Uncle Abner sighed, the recollection clearly meaningful to
him even now. “My father’s opinion of me gave me the determination to always take my work seriously and be responsible. His words changed my life that day, Tilly. I wanted to live up to his expectations. I honestly did. And I hope I have.”
She wondered why he was telling her this when he must surely know about her own sour father-daughter relationship. “I’ve made it a point to say positive, affirming things to my children,” she told him. “My husband’s the same way with them.”
“That’s important. Life-changing, really,” Abner said, nodding so his thick beard bumped his chest.
She was at a loss, still not understanding what he’d intended for her to glean from the story.
“Your Daed may not have said the kinds of things that made ya want to strive for certain higher qualities,” Abner said. “And for that, you must be willing to forgive him.”
She hadn’t thought of it quite that way.
“Your return here, ’specially at this feeble season in your Daed’s life, well . . . it might just be timely.”