Arms of Love (16 page)

“Reliance on the other peacekeeping sects must be stopped. We must build an Amish community with Amish hearts in Amish homes. You should go and fetch her back.”

Abel shook his head. “I kept too light a hand with her; it is too late. Do you know when the bishop is to come through?”

“
Nee
, but it must be soon. He visited with us last spring, about this time. I will ride about to investigate this idea of a meetinghouse. Needless to say, the matter must be resolved before the bishop should arrive and hear of such doings.”

Abel looked worried yet. Joseph chafed inwardly at his fellow deacon’s seeming lack of confidence, but he reassured him once more and hurried his guest on his way. As he waved Abel off, he noticed Isaac leading a horse to the foundry.

“Isaac! Come inside. I would speak with you.”

His elder son was as tall as Adam but did not present the same taut strength. Instead he always seemed lost in thought, somewhere far from the moment at hand. Joseph sighed to himself as the boy approached.

“
Ya, Fater?
” Isaac asked, climbing onto the porch, his dark eyes passive.

Joseph held open the door to the farmhouse. “Inside, my
sohn
. It is an issue of some importance that will require the gifts of both your mind and body.”

They sat at the dining table alone; Ellen was working in the garden. Joseph cleared his throat. “I would speak to you of the ways of women, Isaac.”

Joseph saw the gleam of interest in the dark eyes opposite him with some relief. At least the boy was present . . .

“You mean the wiles of women,
Fater
? In the Bible, it reads—”

Joseph held up a hand and shook his head. “Nee, not a study of women, Isaac. The reality of them . . . the reality of Lena Yoder and your doings with her.”

The boy looked shocked. “My doings, Father? I have not done—”

Joseph slapped a hand on the table. “Isaac . . . you have told your mother and me of Adam’s decision to leave Lena behind. Do you not think this leaves a place for you to possibly wed the girl and aid her, as the Lord would see fit?”

The boy dropped his
gaze
. “Ya, if she would have me. But she is bent upon a selfish purpose, Father. A desire to run the farm alone, with the Lord’s help, of course. I told her I would offer her counsel, but I do not know how I would make an offer of marriage. She is strong of will, though I believe that she could be brought to submit as is proper.”

Submit, my right eye . . . The mawd is as wild-tempered as a colt and would lead Isaac a merry chase all of his days, should he be able to win her from Adam’s hold . . .

Joseph let none of his thoughts show on his face, but simply nodded. “I see. It is very wise of you to give her time, my
sohn
. But she may need some persuasion of the
hartz
, some wooing as it were. Her feelings for your
bruder
will not disappear in a moment.”

Isaac waved a languid hand. “She was still barely more than a child when she thought of a future with Adam; she did not know her own mind. The war, Adam’s behavior, her
mamm’s
death, and her
fater’s
imprisonment have all worked, no doubt, to bring about a settled mien to both her person and spirit. Once she gets over this notion of managing things herself, she will see things differently.”

Joseph longed to shake the casual attitude of the boy and opted for the obvious ploy. “You do realize, Isaac, that by engaging her to marry, you may well secure the sanctity of her soul by keeping her from any darker desires that might arise.”

“You mean Adam again,
Fater
?”

Joseph spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “It is true that she may have changed, but I think your
bruder’s
heart is still engaged with the past, and he might lead her down a path to some unrighteousness— even if she were unaware of that leading.”

Isaac’s dark eyes narrowed. “You are right, Fater. I should have thought of it thus before.”

Joseph smiled. “It is not too late for such a revelation. But I wonder how you plan to go about pursuing young Lena . . . to win her to your cause.”

“I will simply tell her outright, of course, what the Bible says.”

“Do you know that I had to pursue your mother with great diligence?” Joseph leaned back in his chair. “ ’Tis true. She would not have my suit at the first, despite her father’s approval. And I did try a rather forthright approach, only to be lost in my attempts at matching the Bible to the mind of a maid.”

Isaac leaned forward. “You are saying that I should use cunning,

Fater?”

Joseph shook his head. “
Cunning
seems a bit harsh in its meaning, my sohn. As I said before, a maid wants wooing before she will make her choice—gentle words, kind overtures. She has, after all, lost her
mamm
. There may be an emptiness in her heart and mind.”

“Which I could fill!” Isaac exclaimed. “And in doing so, secure a sure soul for heaven’s gates in her submission to my rule as husband.”

Joseph leaned forward to clasp his son’s shoulder. “You may be onto something gut in your thinking, my
sohn
. I will pray on it for ye, with proper intercession. Upon my word, I will pray.”

“Thank ye,
Fater
!”

Joseph’s eyes gleamed cold gray, and he rested with more ease against the back of his chair.

Adam tried to count the pulse of the hoofbeats of the horse beneath him, tried seeing glimpses of shapes in the clouds above, then gave in to simply reciting the multiplication facts as he attempted desperately to concentrate on anything but the feel of Lena’s touch about his waist. Why had he behaved as he did at the spring? He had dishonored his promise to Mary and sent Lena confusing signs of his true feelings. The sooner he enlisted and began this so-called new life the better, for he knew that he could not control himself any longer where Lena was concerned.

Chapter 13

L
ancaster’s bustle always stirred Lena’s sensibilities until she found it difficult to concentrate on anything else—even the sting of her mouth from Adam’s kiss. She had to remind herself not to hold him tighter as they entered the busy streets. She much preferred the country and was glad not to make the trek to town very often, even to fall festivals as some Amish did to sell handicrafts and wares.

“I would walk now, Adam. It is unseemly to ride astride, and with a man.”

“And with me in particular?” He tossed her a smile as he drew rein to ease her off the horse. “Agreed. Please make a more ladylike entrance to your
fater
’s trial alone.”

There was a faint irony in his tone, and she realized that she did not want to be alone in the midst of the crowds, especially at the trial. She looked up at Adam to find him smiling down at her, waiting and obviously not going anywhere.
How well he knows me
, she thought with mixed ire and relief.

She stepped aside, nearly knocking into a buckskin-clad trapper with a coon cap, which he swept off with a flourish.

“My apologies, madam.” His eyes twinkled with good humor, and Lena allowed him a brief smile before looking away. Adam now stood beside her, and she sensed a change in his stance.

“What’s the trouble here?” Adam asked, his voice distant and hoarse.

Lena turned to look up at him and saw that he was livid with anger.

“No need for jealousy, my friend,” the trapper said with a smile.

“Simply a greeting for a beautiful maid.”

“Beautiful, yes, but not yours to greet.”

“I’ll greet whom I like,” Lena snapped before she could think, then regretted her words as the grin spread on the trapper’s face. Clearly, the man thought he was interrupting a jealous husband and a flirting wife. She pulled on Adam’s stiff arm with a gentle tug. “Come, Adam. We must hurry.”

“Yes, Adam, hurry along,” the trapper singsonged.

Lena felt as though she could touch the anger emanating from Adam’s arm. What was this about, that he seemed ready to fight with a simple stranger over nothing? It was not the Amish way, nor was it normal for Adam. And she did not like his proprietary air, even if she gained some comfort by it. Finally Adam seemed to come to himself and allowed her to lead them some distance from the other man.

“What were you doing?” she asked under her breath.

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong. Let’s get Tim stabled safely and go to the trial. The sun is nearly overhead.” He gently removed her hand from his arm to place it more formally in the bend of his elbow, and they walked on. They stopped only to pay what Lena considered a huge sum to have Tim stabled by a “reputable horseman”—as was advertised on a painted wooden sign.

Lena decided to dismiss the incident with the trapper and concentrated on not getting the hem of her skirt tangled against the press of other women as she and Adam moved on. She could not help but admire the color of some of the dresses, each so clearly defining a station in society. The crowd was like a moving patchwork quilt, and she realized how much the war had swelled the town’s populace beyond the previously predominate Quaker settlers.

Indeed, Lena’s eye was caught by the applied decorations of dress for both men and women—the ribbons, plumes, braids, ornate buttons, and laces stood in such contrast to the stark brown of her simple homespun gown. But then, she quickly reminded herself, dress wasn’t what mattered. Outward adornment was not what was necessary in life, even if it was attractive to look upon.

Adam seemed to know the town well and led her with sure silence past a bakery that she had never seen before to turn the corner to the center of town. A mass of soldiers was gathered about, and a heavily decorated officer of the Pennsylvania Regiment sat at a simple table with a quill in hand and a stack of papers before him. A line of drablooking prisoners stood nearby, their physical frailness apparent. No chains were necessary to hold them in their miserable stance.

“That is Major George,” Adam whispered in her ear, nodding toward the seated officer.

Lena recognized her father as fourth in the line; his normally tall, lean form looked even thinner as he shielded his eyes against the sunshine. He was ill kempt and haggard, and she longed to burst through the crowd and run to him. Adam kept a steadying hand on her shoulder. She knew she might offer a plea on behalf of her father when it was his turn, but until then she must wait in silence. She studied the clothing of the prisoners more carefully and saw that her father was the only Plain-dressed man, clearly of a peacekeeping faith, even though dirt and filth had reduced his clothing to near rags. The others wore clothes of similar condition and appeared downtrodden and weak.