A Heart Made New (21 page)

“Nothing, nothing, Mayor Haag.” Sarah rushed over to the cabinet, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. “David was thirsty. It’s sure hot out there, isn’t it?”

“In here too.” Mayor Haag smiled. “Fine, but get busy. I’ve got four dozen guests coming this evening, and I want this house spotless. The caterer will be here from Wichita any second. Run along—start in the living room and don’t forget the guest bathroom.”

Sarah cast a last pleading glance at David and disappeared down the hallway. He picked up the money the mayor had tossed on the counter while she lifted the lid of the cake box. “Oh, it’s gorgeous.” She dipped a finger with a red nail on it in the frosting on one corner and lifted it to her lips. Her eyes rolled and she sighed. “Ecstasy. Absolute ecstasy. Nobody does frosting better than Sadie Plank. You can tell her I said so.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tucked the money in the deposit bag and started for the door.

“David, wait.”

He closed his eyes for a split second. Almost made the getaway, but he hadn’t been quite fast enough. He turned to face her. “Was there something else you needed? I didn’t see anything else on the order.”

“No, I had Lou pick up the dinner rolls and cookies this morning.” She dropped the lid on the cake box. “You know, I can barely stand to go into the bakery since the armed robbery. That’s why I want you to convince your mother and those two other girls to testify in that man’s trial.”

David backed toward the door, inch by inch. “I can’t do that, ma’am.”

“Don’t ma’am me. I’ve known you since your mother used to bring you into my sister’s shoe store every year before school started. Same pair of boots for each one of you boys.”

“I know that.”

“It’s wrong for a thief to go free. He broke the rules. You people are big on following rules.”

Those rules included not judging others. They included forgiving. “Our rules.”

“You read the Bible, don’t you.”

“Yes.”

“So you know about the part where it says thou shalt not steal.”

“Yes. We also know about the part that says we are to keep ourselves apart from the world.” David didn’t want to get into a debate with an Englischer over the Ordnung. She wouldn’t understand and it wasn’t his place to try to convince her. “We also consider the part where it says to forgive not seven times but seventy times seven times.”

“Don’t get smart with me. I’m the mayor of this town.” Mayor Haag pulled paper plates and plastic forks from her bag and slapped them on the counter. “The safety of the people here is paramount to me. That’s why you’ll do as I ask.”

“No, ma’am.”

“What did I say about ma’am-ing me?”

“I can’t do it. The Ordnung doesn’t allow it.”

“Don’t you want them to be safe?”

“I’ll keep them safe. Annie’s family will keep her safe. So will Miriam’s. Our community is small and united.”

“Your mother has a business in my town. Your friends work in my town.”

“If you insist they testify neither of those things will be true for long.”

She dabbed at smudged lipstick with a napkin, her lips pulled down in a deep frown. “Your father would never have talked to me like that.”

Truer words were never spoken. David tried to imagine his father talking to the mayor at all. He was a man of few words who spent most days in the field. He had been content to stay as far from town as possible. This world where they could no longer support their families by farming had forced many changes. “My father would never have delivered a cake to an Englischer’s house.”

“What are you saying?”

“The world is different now. We work in town because it’s necessary to support our families. I’m only asking that you think about what Bliss Creek would be like without the Plain people.”

“Pardon me?”

“The Plain people own half the businesses in this town. And the tourists flock here not to see you, but to see us. We understand that and we tolerate it in order to be able to continue to live here.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say…” David hesitated. It sounded prideful, but he didn’t mean it that way. It was a simple statement of fact. “Try as we might, we cannot stay totally separate. We need to work in order to support our families. But Bliss Creek needs us too.”

“So we have to work together. That’s what I’ve been trying to say.” Mayor Haag marched around the counter and stood in David’s space. Hands on her hips, she glared up at him. “Work together to keep the town safe, for instance.”

“Work side by side. Separately, but side by side.” David refused to back down. The bishop might not approve of him arguing with this Englischer, but his mudder, Annie, and Miriam had to be shielded from her. The bishop wouldn’t allow them to participate in the trial. “That is what is best for our families. Otherwise, we’ll be forced to move to a place where we can protect our way of life.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No.”

Mayor Haag folded her arms, her stare icy. “Are you sure?”

David stared right back. “It’s a fact.”

Josiah raised a hand to knock on Bishop Kelp’s door. He hesitated, still trying to work out the words. How could a heart be so torn in two? The door opened before he could knock. Bishop Kelp peered out.

“Josiah. Come in.” He sounded as if he’d been waiting for the visit. “There’s coffee on the stove. Would you like a cup? Or maybe cold tea would be better in this heat. It’s fresh brewed and Susana has ice.”

Feeling like a fool, Josiah dropped his hand and followed the bishop into the living room. Despite a parched throat, he declined. Better to get this over quickly. “I needed to speak with you—”

“About Sarah.” Bishop Kelp sank into a hickory rocking chair and waved at a second one that faced his. “She was here earlier.”

“I didn’t know.” He perched on the edge of the chair. Hands clasped tightly in front of him, he gathered his thoughts. “I wanted your permission to talk to her.”

“I realize you don’t need my permission. You’ve not been baptized yet. You’ve been running around longer than most.” His deep voice gave the words a pall that reminded Josiah of the many funeral services the bishop had led. “With your parents gone, I’m only concerned for your welfare. You went through a bad time last year, but you returned to us. I don’t want to see you lose your way again.”

His tone was soft, kind, not one Josiah expected or had heard before. He’d misjudged Micah Kelp. He always thought of him as the bishop, but here sat one man concerned for another. Almost like a grandfather. That realization made it all the harder to look him in the eye. “I know that. Danki.” He ducked his head. “I don’t seem to be able to make a clearheaded decision. It’s all muddled.”

“Women.” Bishop Kelp chuckled deep in his chest, making his beard shake. “They’ve been known to make men do crazy things.”

“Plain men?”

“All men.”

Josiah pushed his hat back and gazed at the bishop, hoping for a bit of direction. “I want to talk to Sarah. I need to tell her she shouldn’t go through with this. Not on my account.”

“I’ve talked to the girl. I’m fairly certain she’s sincere.”

Sincere? Josiah tried to rearrange his expression before the bishop saw his disbelief. “She really wants to join the faith?”

“So she says. She has stripped away the worldly things that stand in her way. She’s cleaning an Englisch house. She tells me her cousin is teaching her to bake and sew. I’m satisfied with her expressions of faith. Sarah has given this a lot of thought. She’s acted on her conviction.”

“I know that.”

“As she said to me, ‘It’s not all about Josiah.’” The bishop’s grave expression belied the note of humor in his voice. “Sometimes it’s not, you know. All about you.”

“You think this is best for her?”

“If it brings her closer to God, then yes, it is best, but only God knows. He has a plan for young Sarah Kauffman. Just as He has one for you. Just as He has one for Miriam Yonkers.”

The bishop knew too much, saw too much. Josiah stared at the floor, willing the heat on his face to subside.

The sound of Bishop Kelp’s chair creaking made him look up. The bishop fixed him with a stern stare. “Never lose your humility. Spend some time on your knees. Listen.”

He heaved himself from the chair and plodded toward the door. Josiah’s time was up. He followed.

At the door, Bishop Kelp smoothed his beard with a callused hand. He stared at a spot behind Josiah’s shoulder, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. At last, he opened the door and stood back so Josiah could pass. “Josiah.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

“You might be right. A visit is in order. Talk to her. Maybe then you will have a clearer understanding of what you must do. You, not her.
She will do what is right for her. You will do what is right for you. That is not necessarily the same thing. When you know, you will tell me.”

It was all Josiah could do to keep from breaking into a run to the buggy. Aware of the bishop’s keen gaze on his back, he forced himself to stride forward, every step firm. Once in the buggy he looked back, but the door was already shut.

The bishop thought Sarah was sincere. He might grant her request to join the community. A new start for Sarah. The same old problem for Josiah. It would mean making a decision between two women who were part of his community. No escaping.

I
still don’t see why I couldn’t just drive my van.”

Annie ignored the pique in Charisma’s voice. She’d been complaining for over an hour now. Luke had been adamant. Annie could go to Wakefield to find Charisma’s mother only if David went, and only if they hired Luke’s Englisch friend, Michael Baldwin, to drive them. Michael did most of the driving for the Shirack family. Josiah needed to work or Luke would’ve sent him. Annie suspected Luke wanted Michael along to serve as a chaperone in her brother’s stead. And because he didn’t trust an Englisch girl’s driving. Either way, she didn’t argue. They needed to find a home for Charisma quickly, before the baby came and Leah had a meltdown.

“Annie, are you ignoring me?” Charisma’s voice rose over the sound of the car’s engine. Gracie, who’d fallen asleep the moment they pulled off the dirt road onto the highway, shifted in her car seat and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Charisma sniffed. “I still don’t see why I can’t drive.”

Annie exchanged looks with David, who sat in the front seat with Michael. She’d already answered Charisma’s questions several times. She leaned against the smooth seat and peered out the window. Everything whooshed by so fast. No time to admire the countryside. With the windows up and the air conditioner on, she could almost imagine summer had ended and the cooler temperatures of fall had arrived. The
familiar odors of outdoors couldn’t penetrate. Instead the smell of artificial pine wafted from a cardboard tree swinging from the mirror, mingling with Charisma’s sweaty feet and the gingersnaps Gracie crushed in her chubby fingers. Was this what it was like in Englischers’ houses?

“Annie! Are you ignoring me?”

“Because Luke thought it would be better for you to relax and rest on the drive.” She brushed crumbs from the sleeping baby’s face with a light touch. “Don’t you want to take a quick nap like Gracie?”

Charisma shook her head so hard her ponytail swung in Gracie’s face. The girl whimpered.

“Sorry.” Charisma patted her daughter’s bare leg. Annie would’ve liked to see Gracie wear a dress for this important visit, but Charisma had chosen a faded pair of shorts and a sleeveless top that read Mommy’s Princess for her daughter’s first visit to her grandma’s house. The outfit matched Charisma’s shorts and shirt almost exactly, except Charisma’s shirt said: I L
OVE THE
L
ONE
S
TAR
S
TATE
. “Do you really think I can sleep at a time like this?”

“We’ve got another hour left before we get there.”

“Not nearly long enough.” Charisma rooted around in her denim bag. After a few seconds she pulled out a small bottle that she proceeded to squirt on her neck and arms. The overpowering scent of flowers billowed through the enclosed car. The two men in the front seat looked at each other. David cracked his window so the air made a whistling sound.