The Brethren (25 page)

She should have seen it coming, and she quickly objected, knowing to agree would send the wrong message.

Later, when they were between courses, enjoying the

294 palate refresher of a rounded dab of mint sherbet, Michael took her totally off guard and pulled out a ring-sized box from his sports coat. “Louisa, I’d like to return something of yours.”

She blinked, not sure what he meant.

He flicked the box open, just like in the movies. “Remember this?”

Her lips parted when she saw her extravagant engagement ring a two-carat diamond in the exquisite setting she had chosen when they’d first looked at rings together. When we were naively in love.

“Oh, Michael …”

“You can make me the happiest guy on the planet if you’ll consent to be my bride.”

She could not believe he was ready to ask her again. She also could not believe she wasn’t leaning forward, removing the ring, and putting it back where she’d worn it for so long. The sight of the glamorous rock made her think of the ringless weddings in Amish country.

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Michael’s feelings. Surely it had taken plenty of guts to dig out this ring she’d not so graciously returned to him last fall when she’d abandoned her engagement promise.

“I’m asking you to marry me, Louisa. This time, like the last, because I love you . . and for no other reason.”

He does care for me… . He really, really does.

She could not look into his passionate eyes for a single minute longer. She needed air, but now their entrees were coming. She could see the wait staff heading their way, bringing the celebration dinner.

Oh, what should I say?

295

Annie’s eyes had been pink and teary all day, and even little John seemed to notice. He’d crawled up onto her lap while she sat in Essie’s front room, staring sadly out the window.

Ben’s going to make his vow to God and the church … if the brethren feel he’s ready.

John nestled himself in the crook of her arm, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “I think someone’s ever so sleepy, jah?”

The little boy shook his head quickly. “No … no, Auntie Annie.”

“Well, when Mamma says so, you must go up for your nap.” She kissed the top of his head.

And there she sat, thinking about Ben and the fine meal they’d shared several nights ago. She felt guilty for not giving her answer to such an adoring beau. Yet she had withheld it out of sheer necessity, all the while seeing the hurt of rejection in his eyes… something she’d not been present to witness the day he’d received her letter.

Essie called sweetly for John to head upstairs, and Zach came in and stood in the doorway, waiting for his younger

296 brother. “It’s that time,” Essie said, appearing with her hand on Zach’s small shoulder. “If yous promise not to talk the afternoon away up yonder, I’ll let you have your naps together.”

Annie chuckled at trusting Essie. She knew, and so did Annie, that there was no possible way to get these two settled down if they shared the same bed. Even so, Essie shooed them off, following them on the stairs.

Leaning her head back, Annie thought she ought to be ashamed of herself. Holding tight to her passion for drawing her treasured paints and brushes, her precious easel and canvas while such a wonderful young man as Ben wanted to spend his life with her.

What’s wrong with me?

In her memory, she flew back to the years Rudy Esh had courted her. He had also declared his love … had shown

her, too, by putting up with her procrastination. She’d hurt him terribly, but once she had set him free, in a short time, he had found a new love.

Was that to happen again? Would she be so foolish as to give up the chance to belong to Isaac Hochstetler.7 All the People knew who he was, now that word had spread rapidly of Daniel’s verification that Ben was his own. The man who

could always identify trees! She had to laugh at that.

Essie strolled into the room. “We’ll see how long the boys talk, won’t we?”

Annie smiled. “Laura’s playing in her room?”

“Actually, she’s asleep, and so’s the baby.”

“You should quick take a good rest yourself,” Annie suggested.

297 But Essie sat herself down on the chair near the window and folded her hands, looking so peaceful. “I think you need a listenin’ ear, Annie. Am I right?”

Annie sighed. “Jah, ain’t that the truth.”

“Something awful happened. It’s printed on your face.”

Annie nodded. “You know how fond I am of Ben.”

“I assumed as much.”

“It might seem peculiar if I told you I could marry him, but only if he remains English.” She explained how Ben planned to join church, while she didn’t know how she could stay Amish when her heart was so tuned to painting. Truth be told, she had been longing to share her work with the English world like Louisa had when she had been there.

Essie smiled suddenly. “Well, if you did marry Ben, we’d be sisters-in-law now, what about that?”

“My goodness,” Annie said, but she knew that was not a good enough reason to give Ben the answer he desired. “But how can I not follow my heart to the outside?”

“There is such a thing as giving up your will… . Remember what we talked about before? About being willing to give up the thing we love?”

Not expecting this, Annie listened, surprised at how strongly Essie felt. “Laying down your desires may be hard, but asking the Lord for His guidance, His will, is a good way to live, I daresay.”

Annie pondered that, even long after Essie got up and headed back to the kitchen to check on several baking pies. Annie was sure Cousin Julia would have said something similar were she to ask.

Sighing and wanting to walk after being inside much of

298 the day, Annie headed outdoors, miserable at the thought of living her life without Ben and nearly as sad at the idea of turning her back on art, too.

No matter what choice I make, I lose dearly.

Louisa wished she could fly out to be with Annie, who was in a catch-22 over Ben’s intention to join her father’s church. When Annie had called from Julia’s to explain her painful dilemma, Louisa felt terrible and had racked her brain, trying to think of some way to help. But really, what could she do? What could anyone do?

Sighing, she put the finishing touches on her oil painting. She was pleased at her realistic interpretation of Muffin. “Fantabulous,” she said, eager for it to dry and be framed. She had not made arrangements to mail the large painting, because now that the final brushstrokes had been made, she wondered if she could even part with it.

But she’d set out to give it to Annie, and that was still her plan. She realized that the painting would make a fine wedding gift, if ever Annie were to bring herself to marry. Louisa hoped so, for Ben’s sake Annie’s, too but knowing her Amish friend, that sort of commitment was rather up in the air for now, much as Annie’s reluctance to make the lifelong kneeling vow to the Amish church had nagged her all this time.

“What will it take for Annie to take the plunge?”

She laughed, hugging herself. What will it take for me?

299 Zeke had not ceased talking about his father and his “newfound” brother to anyone who would listen, especially the folks in his therapy group. He knew he was jabbering on and on as he clapped his hands and paced the floor, describing yet again the impromptu family reunion. Ach, such a day it had been! The nurses smiled and listened, no doubt assuming he was obsessing on something new … something other than his dead brother.

But he knew he wasn’t obsessing. Not, at least, to the degree he had been. After all, hadn’t Irvin talked of miracles? And Zeke had witnessed one firsthand that day at the work frolic. “Isaac is alive,” he said repeatedly. “My brother was never dead.”

And when the nurse came in to check his blood pressure and take his temperature several times a day, he would simply shake his head. He was growing weary of being here. “I want to go home, and as soon as possible,” he told one of his doctors. That afternoon, he said the same to his group leader, too. He was whole now no need to be here when his family needed him at home.

More tests were administered under the advisement of the doctors. Zeke was terribly frustrated but kept his story straight he knew to do that much when telling about Isaac’s return.

After additional tests and many further discussions, it was decided that indeed Zeke was much improved. So much so that when both Irvin and Preacher Jesse showed up together, they agreed to look after Zeke for a few days before allowing him to live at home. Jesse and the doctors believed he might be ready to take this next step toward resuming his

300 life. But he must continue his medication. That was imperative.

The nights were taking their toll on Annie. Each night she was unable to fall asleep for hours and lay awake on her side, staring out the window at the night sky … or flat on her back, staring at the dark ceiling. In her dreams, her father’s house had vanished and Yonie was nowhere to be seen, nor were Daed and Mamm. Ben, too, was out of reach. Often, she found herself falling, arms flung wide, feeling the air billow out her long Plain skirts before landing hard on her bare feet, the grass poking against the callouses on her toes. Annie dreamed of wandering up and down Pequea Creek, seeing it bone dry and grieving the loss of it. Her heart was always pounding as she awakened. Soon Annie began to dread going to bed, let alone falling asleep.

Tormented, Annie asked to read Essie’s Bible. Not knowing where to begin, she opened to the book of Proverbs, reading each pithy verse from the beginning forward.

When she came to chapter twelve, verse fifteen, she read the words aloud: ” ‘The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise.’”

Who wants to be foolish? In the sight of God, is that what I am?

She didn’t wish to follow after her own heart, her own way, as she long had. She knew that much. But she did want to paint again, more than nearly anything, though she was losing interest in the hectic worldly ways of the English. If being fancy had anything at all to do with the emptiness,

301 even despair, she’d felt in her dreams, then perhaps she was being foolish as the Scriptures stated. Were the nightmares the Lord God’s way of guiding her, as Essie liked to say? Was it the will of the heavenly Father for her to join church and marry Ben Martin?

She contemplated how God achieved His will amongst the People. The most familiar was the drawing of lots, their custom for filling the offices of bishop, preacher, and deacon. The idea struck her that she was on the right track, somehow, in considering this.

She continued her reading and was spurred on when she spotted the verse in chapter sixteen, verse thirty-three “The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.”

“What’s that mean disposing thereof?” she said aloud, wondering whom she might ask.

Marking her place, she headed outdoors to feed the hogs, wishing she were on better terms with her father. It bothered her that they had been barely on speaking terms for all this time. What could she do to bridge that gap?

Thinking about whom to approach regarding the Scrip’ ture, she remembered that Ichabod was back in town. He’d refused the lot once, long ago, according to Mamm. Mayhe she would know. Jah, sure she would! Perhaps later in the day she could get her Mamm alone to ask.

Knowing they would not be invited to any canning frolics this summer, she and Essie put up several dozen jars of strawberry preserves on their own. When they were finished, Annie set out to walk to her father’s house. Past the towering white pine tree she walked, where Ben had often parked

302 to meet her last winter. Now the sun was a lone fireball in the sky, and she felt glum. She recalled hearing Cousin Julia describe to her children how to know God’s will by listening to His still, small voice that knowing in one’s heart. It had to do with opening doors and walking through them as guided by a divine and loving hand, just as Abram of old had trusted God to lead him when the path ahead had seemed so uncertain.

All that aside, Annie understood in part why the People chose to adhere to the age-old tradition of drawing lots, as illustrated in Scripture. She hadn’t known that verses pertaining to the lot were embedded in the Proverbs, as well as the New Testament, where she was most familiar with them. In the Acts of the Apostles, drawing lots was the process by which the Lord God had chosen the successor to Judas.

“What if I were to cast lots between my love for art and my love for Ben?” she whispered as she made her way along the narrow road toward her childhood home. Of course, she realized her passion for color and texture on paper or canvas was a very different kind of love than giving one’s life away for another. Truly, she believed that was what marriage with Ben would be giving up her singleness for the sake of joining her heart with his, birthing their children and establishing their place in the family tree.

She had to smile, thinking there were two branches to Ben’s “tree” and wondering how she might ever do a counted cross-stitch sampler for their front room if ever she were to give him a yes to his dear question. He deserves an answer ever so soon.

Hurrying along the grassy area beside the road, she saw

303 several buggies coming her way. She considered what it might be like coming here to walk as an Englischer, many years from now. No doubt, she would be wearing her hair this short, though free and swinging against her cheek instead of pulled back into its present low, tight bun. And she would be wearing shoes possibly some stylish sandals her toenails painted a pretty, deep pink. Where would her husband and children be? Who would they be?

She waved at her older brothers Christian and Abner, and they waved back, their faces turning to flabbergasted frowns. No doubt there were strands of her hair too short to stay in the schtruppich bun, but she kept going, mussed up or not, and so did they. “Soon all the People will know.” Yet she felt no sadness for what she had done.

When her mother laid eyes on her, there was fire in her eyes. “Oh, my daughter … my only girl. What on earth has possessed you to cut your hair?”