Accidentally Amish (42 page)

Barbara married Christian Yoder, and Anna was engaged to his brother. Anna was already staying at Barbara’s house most of the time because it was closer to the man she was engaged to—and whose family was planning her wedding.

Yoders. They arrived from Europe five years after Jakob. Already they were becoming a dominant family among the Amish settlers. The fact that their mother had been a distantly related Yoder made it easy for the Byler girls to gravitate toward Yoder sons.

Neither of the older girls even once wavered about remaining in the Amish faith. When an Amish bishop visited from another district, Barbara, Anna, and Christian were baptized. When he came again, Barbara married. The girls made their peace that Elizabeth would never join them and that their own father would be out of place in an Amish gathering. Christian, of course, held out hope that his father would return to the fold.

Elizabeth’s only regret was that Jakob felt out of place at his daughters’ weddings and chose not to attend. And someone else would host the celebrating families when Anna and Lisbetli married.

And Maria. What about Maria? At fifteen, she seemed in no hurry to join the Amish church, but Elizabeth did not want the teenager to make such a choice because of her.

At least there was Sarah. Perhaps by the time she was old enough to marry, there would be a proper church for her to marry in. Elizabeth did not even care if it were Lutheran or Presbyterian. Jakob would be there to see their daughter married.

Elizabeth smiled at what she saw from the window. Coming in from the vegetable garden, Lisbetli had Joseph by one hand and David by the other. Behind her, John and Sarah carried a basket of vegetables between them—most likely squash, Elizabeth thought. Not much was left in the garden at this point in the season. The cellar was well stocked for the winter.

“
Mamm
, I’m hungry!” David called out as soon as he spotted his mother in the window.

“You’re always hungry,” John responded.

It was true. At age four, David could keep up with Jakob or Christian at meals.

Elizabeth turned around and ran a rag over the table, wiping up the last evidence of lunch just before the children burst through the back door with their supper bounty. John and Sarah quickly disappeared into the other room, no doubt intending to be out of sight when Elizabeth vocalized the next chore.

“I thought Bar-bar would be here by now,” Lisbetli said. The little boys freed themselves of her hands and clambered on Elizabeth, who dropped into a chair for support against their weight.

“I’m sure she’ll come any minute.” Elizabeth snuggled her little boys.

“Where’s Maria?”

“Upstairs. She needed to put on a fresh apron.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind if I go?” Lisbetli asked. “The boys will be underfoot while you’re cooking if I’m not here.”

Elizabeth kissed both boys’ foreheads and nudged them off her lap. “Lisbetli, the question is whether you want to go to the quilting bee. You’re so helpful to me with the younger children, but you won’t be a child yourself much longer. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings.” Lisbetli moved her fingers nervously across the back of a chair her father had made.

“Lisbetli,” Elizabeth said softly. “You don’t have to worry that you’ll hurt my feelings if you decide to join the Amish church. Your father sacrificed something when he married me, but you are free to make your own choice.”

“What if Maria decides to be baptized when the bishop comes for Anna’s wedding?” Lisbetli said. “If I don’t join the church, I’ll be the only one.”

The only one of her mother’s children not to stay true. Lisbetli did not have to speak aloud. Elizabeth knew—had always known—that the toddler she loved, now becoming a woman, would face the question.

“You are twelve years old, and today is only a quilting bee.” Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet and examined the bounty the children had carried in. “You only have to decide what you’d like to do today.”

“I do love to quilt,” Lisbetli admitted. “I’m good enough that they’ll let me do more than thread needles now. I’d like to make a baby quilt all on my own.”

“A baby quilt?”

“For Anna. She’s getting married in a few weeks. Maybe she’ll need the baby quilt next year.”

“That’s a lovely thought. I have some scraps I can give you.”

“Thank you.” Lisbetli hesitated. “They have to be …”

“I know. Plain. They’re left over from the dresses I used to make for you and Maria.” As she spoke, Elizabeth adjusted the skirt of her own blue, flowered calico dress. Six-year-old Sarah was the only daughter she could dress in the prints and patterns she enjoyed. “I’m sure Anna would love to wrap a baby in a quilt made by Aunt Lisbetli.”

“I’ve been thinking that maybe I should just be Lisbet now,” the girl said. “It sounds more grown-up.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll try to remember.” She had to look harder and harder to glimpse the toddler who captured her heart.

“It’s okay if you forget sometimes.”

“Bar-bar’s here!” John’s enthusiasm rang from the other room.

Elizabeth heard the clatter of the buggy and went into the main room to look out the front door. Barbara wrapped the reins around a post and waved. A moment later she came through the door.

“Hello, everyone.”

“Where are the babies?” David wanted to know.

“Anna is looking after them.” Barbara looked at Lisbet. “She’ll meet us at the bee.”

Since Barbara hadn’t brought the babies, David lost interest and wandered away.

“Where’s Maria?” Barbara asked.

Clomping on the stairs answered the question. Maria appeared in a dark blue dress covered by a black apron that crisscrossed her back. She arranged her prayer
kapp
on her head.

“Where is your
kapp
, Lisbetli?” Barbara asked.

Lisbet’s hand went to her head. “It must be on my bed.”

“Then go get it. You can’t go out with a bare head.”

Lisbet dashed up the stairs.

The door swung open again, and Jakob came in with Christian.

“I thought the two of you went back to the wheat field after lunch.” Elizabeth raised her cheek, knowing Jakob would brush his hand across it.

“Not yet. We had some work to do in the barn.” Jakob obliged his wife with the gesture of affection. “One of the milk cows is acting strangely. If we’re not careful, she’ll dry up.”

Christian lifted his hat a couple of inches and wiped his hand across his forehead casually. “Are the Yoders coming to the bee?”

Elizabeth suppressed a smile, but Maria was less discreet.

“Christian is
en lieb
with Lizzie Yoder.” Maria grinned at her brother.

“Hush, Maria!” Jakob said sharply. But Elizabeth saw the twinkle in his eye. Anyone could see how Christian felt about Lizzie Yoder.

“It was an innocent question,” Christian said.

“I do believe the Yoder girls plan to be there,” Barbara said. “Perhaps I’ll have opportunity to speak to Lizzie.”

Lisbet thumped down the stairs, her black
kapp
askew on her head.

When his sisters were gone, Christian turned to his father. “
Daed
, on Sunday next week a visiting preacher is coming. We don’t get to have church very often.”

Jakob nodded. “I’ll make sure you’re free to spend the day.”

“Thank you.” Christian looked from Jakob to Elizabeth. “I would like to take Jacobli with me.”

In the fracture of silence, Elizabeth felt the eyes of her four youngest children lift and settle on their father. “John and Sarah,” she said to her two eldest, “please take the little ones to the table and help them learn to write their names.” She looked at them in that way that forbade argument, and they quietly complied.

Jakob took a log from the stack beside the fireplace and methodically adjusted its angle before returning it to the pile. “Jacobli would feel out of place in Amish worship.”

“He’s only eight,” Christian countered. “No one would hold your choice against one of your sons.”

Elizabeth was on her feet. “You seem to forget that Jacobli is my son as well. He will
not
go to church with you.”

“
Daed
, you’ve always said that all your children were free to make their own choices, each one according to his conscience.”

“That’s right.”

“How can Jacobli choose something he has not experienced? Would it really hurt him to go to church with his own sisters and brother?”

Elizabeth stepped across the room and positioned herself between father and son. “Jacobli is too young. Your father and I will decide when he is old enough to visit the Amish.”

“But there aren’t any other churches around here.” Christian gestured widely. “Isn’t it better that he go to church somewhere?”

“I include religious instruction as a regular part of schooling my children.” Elizabeth hated the feeling of heat creeping up her neck. “He is learning everything he needs to know about the love and mercy of God.”

“
Daed
,” Christian said, “this is your decision. You’re the man of this house.”

Jakob did not hesitate. “Elizabeth is right.”

“But
Daed—
”

“I have made my decision, Christian. Will you check on the cow again in about two hours?”

Elizabeth let out her breath. Jakob had made his choice nine years ago. Never once had he disappointed her when Christian pushed him. And the older Christian got, though, the harder he pushed. If he wanted Jacobli this year, would he want John next year? Would he put Sarah in a
kapp
and apron the year after that? Elizabeth did not require an elaborate life, but neither did she think a church rule book should dictate what color her dress could be or how long her husband’s hair must be. While she would never openly oppose them—for Jakob’s sake—it seemed to Elizabeth the Amish went to unnecessary extremes.

Christian pressed his lips together and sat in the rocker Jakob had crafted when Sarah was a baby.

The door opened yet again, and Jacobli entered. He looked around. “Why is it so quiet in here?”

“No reason.” Elizabeth turned to greet him by smoothing his dark red hair. “We were just having a discussion. Why is your face so sticky?”

He grinned. “I ran all the way up from the tannery. I have great news,
Daed.
Mr. Hochstetler and his boys have been out hunting. They got three deer and a bear, and they want to sell you the hides.”

Jakob nodded with pleasure. “Soft deerskin will bring a good price.”

“He’s going to bring them in a few days,” Jakobli said, “as soon as they get the meat off. Can I help you put them in the vats?”

“We’ll see.”

Elizabeth caught Jakob’s eye. He knew how she felt about having Jacobli so close to the lime solution. How could something that could take the hair off a hide be good for a little boy? Nevertheless, Elizabeth loved seeing the pleasure in Jakob’s eyes when their son grew excited.

“I think we should add some bark to the pit,
Daed.
But first we should take out the cattle hides from the Siebers. They’ve been in there three months already.”

“You might be right about that.” Jakob nodded.

Christian stood up and straightened his hat on his head. “Jacobli, you seem to know a great deal about tanning for an eight-year-old.”

“I’m going to be a tanner when I grow up.”

“It’s messy business,” Christian said. “Smelly and dangerous. Wouldn’t you rather be in the fresh air?”

Jacobli shook his head emphatically. “The tannery is the place for me.”

Christian sighed. “Give me the farm any day.”

Jakob smiled. “Christian, you were just like Jacobli at his age. Have you forgotten your maps and charts and planting schedules?”

“Farming is the way of our people,
Daed.
”

Jakob readjusted the same log again.

Elizabeth nudged Jacobli toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll help you clean up.”

R
uth loaded her backpack strategically. She did not want to lose valuable time shuttling back and forth between her dorm room and the library because of overlooked items. She had booked six hours of computer time. Her class schedule allowed her to work three eight-hour days back-to-back and have three days in a row to devote to her studies and still enjoy a Sabbath.

In the four days since Ruth left Rufus sitting on the front porch, tears spurted at unpredictable intervals. Mrs. Watson asked Ruth to read, but she had avoided the task because she was uncertain the lump in her throat would allow the formation of spoken words. She completely forgot the shower she promised to give Mrs. Bragg, and she mixed up dinner trays for several residents. Seeing Mrs. Renaldi on the wing reminded her of Tom Reynolds, which made her think of Rufus, and then her mother and the rest of the family.

Ruth braced herself for the weight of the backpack bulging with textbooks and notebooks for four courses. She had her hand on the doorknob when she thought to make a phone call. Lowering one shoulder, she slung her burden down long enough to find her cell phone tucked into the pocket of the strap.