A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (48 page)

“Because …” Sadie had stammered, not sure how to explain the hundreds and thousands of songs to be learned and enjoyed in the world beyond their Amish faith. “Because they’re not in the Ausbund,” she had told him.

Sam seemed satisfied with her answer, but it shifted Sadie’s thoughts to the Ausbund, a book published over four hundred years ago. There was no music printed in the book, only words, but the melodies had been passed down over generations. Was that the reason music seemed to be part of her very soul?” Even as a little baby, she had been brought by Mamm and Dat to Sunday services, where
vorsingers
led the congegation in song. Over time, the German songs were carved into each person’s heart.

Amish songs were very different from music in the Englisher world. Sung without an organ or piano accompanying it, an Amish
song was slow and haunting. Sometimes it took more than fifteen minutes just to do three stanzas. Most of the songs in the Ausbund had been written by Anabaptists while they were prisoners in the dungeons of Passau Castle so very long ago, back in the 1500s. Amish songs were the music of her childhood, part of her heritage. Sadie believed they had unlocked the voice inside her and opened the door to her curiosity about music.

All music.

She had met Frank because of music. They both worked at the Halfway Hotel, Sadie as a housekeeper and Frank on the maintenance staff. One day, Frank had heard Sadie singing as she pushed her cleaning cart down the hotel corridor. She’d been singing a popular hymn that teens might do in youth groups. She couldn’t remember what exactly, but she did remember how he came tromping down the corridor with a rake in his hand.

With his dark hair that stood up straight from his head and the little triangle of a beard on his chin, Frank had frightened her at first. He was just a bit taller than her, but his shoulders were broad and he reminded her of an angry bull as he stomped toward her. Oh, he’d scared her.

“Is that you singing?” he demanded, leaning the rake over one shoulder. “What’s a church girl like you doing with a voice like that?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth. She had already stopped singing.

“What’s the matter?” He squinted, studying her. “Are you shy?”

“I … I thought you were mad.”

“I’ll only be mad if you let a voice like that go to waste. Do you do any singing professionally? Choir? Band? The shower?”

She laughed aloud, and that eased things between them. Although Sadie wasn’t comfortable talking when she was supposed to be working for her boss, Mr. Decker, she agreed to meet Frank
after work. They went across the street to the pizza place, and Frank had bought two slices of cheese pizza, one for each of them to eat while they chatted.

The whole thing still made Sadie’s heart race when she recalled how she had gone on her first date with an Englisher, just like that. They had talked and laughed, and before they parted she agreed to sing for him—just one verse of “Silent Night” in the parking lot.

Oh, the courage she’d had that night! And foolishness, too. Dates with strangers in town and performances in dark parking lots were not the sort of activities Amish girls engaged in. Even Amish girls in rumspringa, their “running around” time as a teenager.

But Sadie knew she was no ordinary Amish girl. It wasn’t about hochmut or pride. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she was different. But there was something driving her from inside, something in her heart, and she believed it was Gott pushing her to use the gift he’d given her—her voice. All good things came from the Lord in heaven, and she was grateful to have music in her heart.

Soon after she met Frank, he brought his friend Red to meet her after work. And a few days later the three of them, along with a girl named Tara, were “hanging out” in Red’s garage, making music. Real music! Red had a drum set and a deep voice, thick as molasses. Tara played bass guitar, which Sadie was convinced was music from the belly of the earth. And Frank’s fingers danced over his guitar, finding melodies or strumming to make a field of sound that surrounded Sadie’s voice, broader and bolder than any field she had ever worked.

The band had been rehearsing at least once a week ever since, and they’d even taken some trips in Frank’s van to Philadelphia to perform some songs at clubs. These clubs allowed groups to come up to the microphone and give it a try. “Open mike night,” Frank called it. So far Sadie enjoyed performing with her band, but she hated having to sneak away from home to do it. She had never lied
about what she was doing—not exactly—but she suspected that their bishop would not approve if he ever found out.

Phew! It made her heart heavy to worry about such things … especially on such a beautiful spring day. And she had much to look forward to today. After she finished her chores here, she would scooter into Halfway and work a shift at the hotel, cleaning rooms and pushing the big, growling electric vacuum over the rugs. She wasn’t sure if Frank was working tonight, but the band would surely be practicing at Red’s house in the evening, and that was the part of her day that truly warmed her heart.

She pushed the load of dirty hay into the compost heap. It would make good fertilizer for the vegetable garden.

Having finished with the feed, Katie squatted down with a stick in hand, scratching in the dirt. Katie loved her crayons and was always drawing something.

Sadie and Sam made quick work of putting fresh straw in the henhouse.

“Can I carry the eggs?” Sam asked. He was a good boy, always wanting to take on more grown-up jobs on the farm.

She tested the bucket—not too heavy. “Ya, you can carry it.”

As they walked down the lane, little sparrows chirped and jumped in the dense bushes, while a handful of blackbirds soared overhead, heading toward the barns and silos, then circling to the right, down toward the fields and pond.

“Look at those birds, so happy to be flying over God’s land,” Sadie told the little ones. “Our dat used to take care of them, putting out seed and making sure they had a safe place to live.”

“And now he watches them from heaven,” Sam said.

Sadie smiled. “Ya.” Sometimes, when she was singing, Sadie felt like those birds, gliding on the wave of a breeze. The music could lift her right out of these old sneakers. She couldn’t wait for tonight’s rehearsal. She was already dressed and ready to leave the
farm, with her blue jeans on under her dress, the cuffs rolled up over her knees so no one in the family would notice.

Sam moved the bucket to his other hand and hitched up his straw hat. “Adam’s coming.”

Sadie raised one hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Ya, Adam was heading this way, moving like a ram with his head lowered. Something was wrong, and Sadie had a feeling it had something to do with her. Now that their oldest brother was the head of the household, they seemed to butt heads often. Although he understood that rumspringa permitted her certain freedoms, he wasn’t as generous as Dat had been about letting her make her own choices and mistakes.

Although Sadie adored the small freedoms of rumspringa, she did her best to respect Adam and the church leaders. She had taken on the henhouse chore this morning because she wanted to stay out of the way of her brothers and the visiting men, who were bustling around the farm with the excitement of change. After months of preparation, pouring cement for stanchions and erecting a milking barn, they were expecting the arrival of new milking equipment today. It would be powered by a generator, so they would be following all the rules of the Ordnung, but once it was all set up, what an easy task milking would be! Adam said that there would be hoses with clamps that you hooked onto the cow’s teats. Hook it up and it milks the cow, one, two, three! Just like that! Sadie was glad that milking would be easier, though in her mind any amount of time spent milking cows was too much. She didn’t mind hard work, but sometimes she felt overwhelmed when chores filled every minute of the day with no time to escape to Frank and her music.

As Adam came down the lane, a straw hat covering his dark hair, she wondered what his chin would look like with a marriage beard. Although Adam and Remy wouldn’t be published until the fall, there was no doubt in Sadie’s mind that her brother would marry
come wedding season. And that was wonderful good. Adam seemed to have a lighter heart since his soon-to-be wife, Remy McCallister, had come along.

When Adam reached them, they were just passing the Doddy house, where their grandmother had lived alone in the years since their doddy had passed away.

“We got the eggs.” Sam held up the smaller bucket with authority.

“We got eggs!” Katie repeated, still holding on to her drawing stick.

“Gut. You and Katie take them to Mary. She’ll show you how to clean them.”

“I know how to do that,” Sam said.

“Then go,” Adam said. “Ask Mary to prepare a cooler with lunch for Sadie and Susie.”

Sadie was already shaking her head as the little ones turned toward the house. “What’s wrong? Is Susie sick?” Their sister Susie suffered from glutaric aciduria, a disease that might have killed her if it weren’t for the help of their doctor.

“She’s fine, but she has an appointment with Dr. Trueherz today.” Adam tipped his hat back, his body rigid. At times like this, Sadie could see responsibility sitting heavy on her brother’s shoulders. “You know I usually take her, but I have to be here when the milking machines arrive. You need to take her to see the doctor.”

Sadie blinked. “All the way to Paradise?” By horse and buggy, the trip would take an hour each way. “That will take the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, too.”

“Ya. We’ll handle the rest of your chores here,” Adam said.

“What about the hotel? I’m due there by eleven.”

“Call Mr. Decker from the phone shanty. Tell him you can’t make it today, or that you’ll be late.”

“Why can’t someone else take her?” Sadie’s throat grew tight as the prospect of her wonderful day began to slip away. “Why can’t you ask Mary? Or Remy? I’ll scooter over to Uncle Nate’s and see if she can come immediately.” Adam’s beau, Remy, an Englisher girl, had moved in with their uncle Nate and aunt Betsy when the bishop advised that she needed to live Plain if she was serious about joining the Amish community.

Stepping closer, Adam put his hands on his hips, his tall frame suddenly blocking the sun. “You are to do as you’re told and don’t ask so many questions.”

“But it’s not fair when I have a job to do, and—”

“Don’t question my decision,” he growled.

“What’s all this chatter about?” Mammi Nell appeared at the white fence by the Doddy house.

Sadie’s breath caught in her throat, and Adam turned to their grandmother, dropping his hands to his side.

“I could hear you from the vegetable garden, cawing like two angry jays.” Their grandmother stepped through the gate, her eyes stern behind her spectacles. “What’s the matter?”

“Susie needs someone to take her for a checkup,” Adam explained. “Jonah, Gabe, and I are tied up with the new equipment that should be here any minute. Nate and his sons are on their way, and Mary and Remy have their hands full preparing lunch for all the men who’ve come to help out.”

Sadie frowned, wishing Adam had explained all that to her instead of just trying to order her around. Still, she hated to miss work … as well as band practice.

“And you are supposed to be at your job?” Mammi Nell asked Sadie, who nodded. Creases formed around the older woman’s mouth as she mulled it over. “And this is what the two of you are snapping about on this beautiful morning?”

Sadie and Adam both looked at the ground.

“Adam, you are the head of this family now, but sometimes a parent forgets what it’s like to be a young person.”

Sadie couldn’t resist a peek as he lifted his face. Adam had left home when he was eighteen, and only the deaths of their parents had brought him back. Sadie knew that he regretted leaving, but he didn’t speak of his adventures in the world.

“Do you remember your own rumspringa?” their grandmother asked him.

His brown eyes were warm with regret beneath the brim of his straw hat. “I do, Mammi.”

“Don’t forget it. And Sadie, your brother Adam is a good man, and a family must follow the man at the head of the table. You must listen to Adam and try to help.” Sunlight flashed on Mammi’s glasses as she looked from Sadie to Adam. “Now, the two of you can work this out in peace, ya? If Sadie cannot get out of work at the hotel, maybe you’ll find a driver to take you to Dr. Trueherz’s clinic. It’s too late to hire anyone, but you might try a friend. Maybe Lucy Kraybill or Nancy Briggs. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take Susie myself.”

Sadie’s eyes went wide at the thought of her grandmother driving a buggy to Paradise. Although she was moved by Mammi’s offer of help and glad to have her grandmother on her side, she worried about the older woman driving an open buggy for nearly thirty miles. With local farmers working their fields, there was much traffic on the roads these days, and Mammi got tired easily.

“The appointment is at ten,” Adam said hesitantly, and Sadie sensed that he shared her concern about their grandmother’s driving. “But Sadie can go to the phone shanty and see if she can contact someone to drive.”

“Gut.” Mammi wiped crumbs of soil from her gloves. “You work it out, and don’t let me hear angry voices again.” She turned toward the garden to go back to her weeding.

“I’ll ride my scooter to the phone shanty. I’ll try to find a driver,” Sadie said as she and Adam headed toward the farmhouse. Once she was out of sight of the house she could stop and try her cell phone, but she usually didn’t get a strong signal out here in “the boondocks,” as Frank called it.

“You can try. But if you can’t find anyone, this is your responsibility, Sadie. I don’t want the chore passed on to Mammi.”

Sadie bit back an angry answer. She wanted to point out that her brother could have explained the circumstances better, that he could have told her Mary and Remy were busy. Sadie also would have agreed that Mammi wasn’t fit to make this trip. But she kept mum. It wouldn’t be right to argue. Adam was in charge.