River of Mercy (17 page)

“Rachel, didn't the bishop instruct you and Gant not to be together?”

“Bishop Graber said we weren't to be alone together, that's true. But after supper, because of all the bad things that have been happening, Jeremiah—Captain Gant—insisted on seeing me safely home.” She cringed at the note of defensiveness in her voice.

Samuel shook his head, his expression one of disbelief. “You have always had a bent toward rebellion, Rachel, but this is too much.” He stopped, and his expression turned hard. “What were you thinking, deliberately disobeying your bishop?”

Rachel couldn't stop herself. “Bishop Graber is dead, Samuel.”

His mouth thinned. “You would do well to remember that there will be a new bishop, and he must be told of your disobedience. Your behavior cannot be ignored.”

A cold twist of unease coiled through Rachel as she was reminded that Samuel himself might be the next bishop. She knew as a certainty that if that should come about, her “behavior” would most definitely not be ignored. And in that jarring, unguarded moment, she finally put a name to the feeling Samuel Beiler had long evoked in her.

Dread.

She dreaded this man who for years had called himself a friend to her and her family, who had made numerous pronouncements of affection for her, even proposed marriage.

Her chair scraped against the floor as she shot to her feet. “I think you should leave now, Samuel.”

“Rachel—”

“I mean it. I want you to leave.”

He continued to study her, his stony silence oddly threatening. Rachel could almost sense him struggling to control his temper.

Finally, he released a long breath. “Your foolishness demeans you, Rachel. But I can see there's no reasoning with you right now, so I'll go.”

He started to turn but then hesitated. “It's my responsibility as one of the leaders in the church to remind you that there's always a penalty for disobedience to the
Ordnung.
Oftentimes a severe one. I hope you'll give some serious thought to what you may bring upon yourself if you continue on this course.”

Rachel didn't trust herself to respond, but merely stood waiting until he left, her hands clenched so painfully at her sides that her nails felt as if they would pierce her skin. The moment he stepped outside, she fairly threw herself at the door and locked it.

16

Deliver us from the evil one.

M
ATTHEW
6:13
NKJV

D
avid Sebastian took a break from restocking his medical case to stand at the kitchen window and gaze out at the storm battering the house. The temperature was dropping, turning the rain that had begun earlier to snow and icy pellets that slashed the windowpanes like shards of broken glass driven by the wind.

Susan and Fannie were upstairs, ensconced in the cozy sewing room, where they would no doubt stay until they completed the infant items they'd been creating for Waneta Fisher's new baby girl. Feeling somewhat at loose ends, David had spent much of the morning doing things that didn't really need to be done in an attempt to keep his mind off other matters that had been troubling him lately. Matters that had to do mostly with the winds of change he sensed stirring in the Riverhaven community.

There had been a time when few things seemed to change for the Plain People. From what he'd observed over the years, life among the Amish stayed fairly predictable and routine with little happening to interrupt or disturb their lifestyle.

Not so these days. A number of things seemed to be changing, and David harbored a measure of concern that at least some of the change wasn't for the better. Of course, his conversion to the Amish church and his marriage to Susan were recent enough that he could be mistaken, but he didn't believe that was the case. He'd been a physician and a friend to most of the Plain families for many years, so even though living Amish was fairly new to him, the people weren't.

Nor did he think he was mistaken about the source of at least some of the changes. David was convinced that much of what had transpired over the past few weeks could be traced to Samuel Beiler.

Perhaps that was to be expected. After the death of Bishop Graber, the People had naturally begun to seek out a leader within the community, albeit a temporary one, until a new bishop could be chosen.

The People had always looked after one another, but there were also those among them who required more than material necessities—folks who needed spiritual direction or advice in family problems or disciplinary matters. There were also the usual disputes and grievances to be settled. When it came to the young people, strong guidance from someone other than a parent was occasionally deemed necessary.

Sometimes, though rarely, a member deliberately disobeyed the
Ordnung
, evoking the
Bann.
Although shunning was applied to help the offending person see his sin for what it was and take the required steps to repent and be accepted back into the church, it could cause problems among family members and friends. It took a strong leader to deal with such situations.

With their former bishop of many years now gone, the People would naturally be feeling the absence of a spiritual leader. Both Malachi Esch and Abe Gingerich were growing more advanced in years, and Malachi was still grieving the death of his wife, so it was probably to be expected that some of the People would turn to their other preacher, Samuel Beiler, to be that leader.

Beiler was considerably younger than the other two preachers, physically strong and fit, and well experienced in matters of the church. David couldn't stop the somewhat cynical thought that the man also had a way of conveniently insinuating himself into a leadership position. It was almost as if he
wanted
to be recognized as the People's authority, although such a desire would defy the typical Amish man's nature. An Amish leader would never actually seek authority or power, although a bishop needed to exercise both.

More common by far was a feeling of dread when a man received the call to serve as bishop. The duties and responsibilities that accompanied the position—a lifetime appointment, entirely without pay or any other form of compensation—could become burdensome and nearly overwhelming for most ordinary men.

However, once struck by the lot, a man was expected to serve regardless of how he might feel about it. David knew from his long friendships among the People that many Amish men held serious doubts about their capability to serve as bishop, but none would shy away from what they considered a genuine call from God.

In Samuel Beiler's case though, David's instincts told him that this was a man who would not be reluctant to assume the role of bishop and might even be eager to do so. David admitted to himself that his thoughts bordered on cynicism—not a fitting emotion and certainly not a common one for an Amish man to harbor. But if truth be told, he had never trusted Beiler. He had long sensed that the man's disposition was prideful, his ambition probable, his character questionable and possibly bent.

At one time, Beiler had served as a deacon—a position that was often carried out less noticeably than that of a preacher. A deacon looked after the poor, saw to various needs of the community, assisted in baptisms and weddings, and sometimes investigated reports of transgressions, even carrying word about excommunication.

However, due to the departure from the community of another ordained deacon and a somewhat dubious transfer of duties by Bishop Graber, Beiler had quietly assumed many of the responsibilities of a preacher. When the time came to choose a man for the actual position, Beiler's name was somehow submitted for consideration, despite the fact that things had never been done quite that way before. As it turned out, he was chosen for the position—a position he seemed to revel in.

Isaac Graber had always seemed partial to Beiler, for reasons David had never quite understood. The two men couldn't have been more different in disposition. But he'd observed that Samuel Beiler had gradually made himself all but indispensable to the aging bishop, so perhaps that accounted for the way things turned out.

In any event, though David couldn't prove that the changes he found so unsettling could be traced back to Beiler, neither could he help but be troubled. He also knew that to some extent the recent changes bothered Susan as well, so at least his distrust of the man wasn't altogether personal. In fact, they had discussed their mutual concern only the night before.

Apparently, unlike some Amish communities David had heard of, the Riverhaven settlement had never been unreasonably strict in their rules and practices. At least not until recently. These days, however, there were rumors of more stringent regulations being enacted and less tolerance for those who broke those regulations either knowingly or unwittingly.

Not for the first time, one particular incident filtered its way into David's thoughts. Three weeks ago on Sunday, he and Susan had hosted the church service at their house and, later that evening, the young people's singing fest. When things were about to come to a close that night, Reuben Miller and Mary Yoder had been “caught” on their way to Reuben's buggy by Samuel Beiler.

According to Barbara Short, a friend of Susan's, Beiler had openly rebuked the two for “hanging around together” out of public view for quite some time. From what Barbara told Susan, Beiler had approached the couple as they were preparing to climb into Reuben's buggy and leave for home.

Just how long they had been out of view was uncertain, but the two young people had been seeing each other for months now, so it wasn't all that odd that they might have sought a few minutes of privacy when they could. Still, David acknowledged they probably should have reserved their time alone for the ride home.

He had to wonder, though, if Beiler must have kept an unreasonably close watch to have known about their movements and apprehended them as quickly as he had. In any event, from what Susan had been told, even though the two young people had admitted their indiscretion, Samuel Beiler had gone on to issue a harsh scolding in a loud enough voice that he could be heard at some distance.

David had known Mary and Reuben most of their lives. They were a fine young Amish couple, both of them trustworthy and obedient to the church. David seriously doubted that they'd been up to anything objectionable. They would have been humiliated by the experience.

He thought about how their former bishop, Isaac Graber, might have handled the situation and was pretty much convinced the older man would probably have rebuked the couple quietly and privately. Bishop Graber had never been one to make a scene or deliberately embarrass members of the church.

More than likely, he would have reminded the young people to live in such a way that would be pleasing to the Lord and in a manner that wouldn't make another stumble, and that would have been the end of it. Beiler, however, had not only embarrassed the couple but imposed a punishment on them, ordering them to confess their transgression to the entire congregation during the next church service. They were also to avoid each other for the next month. Even Susan, a staunch believer in discretion and wholesomeness among courting couples, thought the preacher's handling of the situation unnecessarily harsh and unreasonable.

There had been other changes as well. Rules had been tightened on how often courting couples could see each other, the time between dates being lengthened to three weeks instead of two.