The Crossroad (6 page)

“That’s right.”

“But does that mean you can’t marry somebody else?”

Annie’s childish question took her off guard. “Well, I guess I
could
marry again, if the Lord saw fit.”

“Why don’tcha, Mamma? Then you can have some brothers and sisters for me—and some more cousins for Joshua, too.”

Rachel had to smile at her darling girl. “It’s not as easy as just sayin’ it.”

“What do you mean, Mamma?”

She sighed, wondering how on earth to explain that one person couldn’t just decide to up and marry. “It takes
two
people—a man and a woman—who love each other very much.”

“So … all’s we need is one more—the man—right?” Annie was giggling now. “I think I know where the other
one
can be found.”

“Where’s that?” Rachel asked absentmindedly.

“New York City.”

Rachel’s heart leaped at the mention of Philip Bradley’s hometown. “What in the world gave you such an idea?”

“Mister Philip did,” Annie replied.

Rachel was flustered beyond all words. “What … whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, I almost forgot you couldn’t see what I saw, Mamma.”

She wasn’t clear on what her daughter was saying. And she was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her father sitting just around the corner at the end of the sunroom. “We best keep our voices down,” she whispered.

“Nobody’s near,” Annie volunteered.

Rachel grinned at her girl’s insight—another one of those traits passed down through the family. Only this wasn’t a questionable one, like some of the “gifts” on her mother’s side, beginning as far back as Gabe’s greatgrandfather, ol’ Gabriel Esh, a powerful conjurer in the area. No, God was going to use Annie for His glory and honor. Rachel honestly believed that and had begun to pray blessings over her daughter, till such time as Annie herself could give her heart and life fully to Jesus.

“I saw something in Mister Philip’s eyes, Mamma … the way he looked at you. There was something wonderfulgut ’bout it.”

Rachel felt the heat rising into her cheeks. “Well, I don’t know how that could be.”

“
I
do, Mamma. He must’ve seen in you what Dat saw a long time ago.”

She leaned down and wrapped her arms around Annie. “You’re sayin’ the silliest things, I daresay.”

“No … no, I ain’t makin’ it up. I saw what I saw!”

Sitting down, Rachel held Annie on her lap. “Listen to me, honey-pie. Mr. Bradley is an
Englischer
. So there’s just no way in the world Mamma could marry him.” She couldn’t bring herself to speak further of romance or whatever it was her darling girl had in her little head. “I believe it’s time we stopped talking ’bout this and got something to eat. What do you say?”

But Annie didn’t budge. She leaned against Rachel and began to whimper into the bodice of her apron.

“What is it, little one?” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head, holding her close.

“I miss him, Mamma. Mister Philip …”

’Course, she couldn’t openly agree. She couldn’t tell her precious girl that for some reason or other, she, too, felt the selfsame way about Philip Bradley of New York City.

Five

The weatherman hit the nail on the head ’bout the snowstorm, turned out. Susanna was mighty glad the quilting at Leah’s wasn’t till tomorrow morning, ’cause the sky was awful heavy with the grayest-looking clouds she’d ever seen. And the snow! Goodness’ sakes, it was comin’ down!

So for today, she and Rachel would keep the kitchen cozy and warm with plenty of pie-bakin’ and cookiemakin’. Rachel had asked if she could take one of the pies to a friend of hers, though she hadn’t said just who or where. Fact was, her daughter was too quiet most the morning, Susanna thought, but she decided not to press for reasons. No, she’d bide her time.

Annie entertained Dawdi Ben in the not-so-sunny sunroom, where the B&B guests always took their breakfast of a morning. Now that it was deep December, the Zooks were without a speck of overnight folk. Susanna was honestly enjoying the break from her hectic schedule of cleaning up after one guest or another, making sure every room in the house was ready at all times. And they
were
ready, but it was nigh unthinkable that anybody in his right mind—especially an out-of-towner—would attempt to make his way up Gibbons Road and on over to Olde Mill Road to their secluded property nestled along Mill Creek.

Annie came into the kitchen just then. “Dawdi Ben says he’s awful thirsty,” she announced.

“Well, let’s get him a nice cold drink.” Susanna moved to the sink and let the water run a bit.

“He’s mighty hungry, too,” Annie said, her blue eyes shining mischievously.

“Well, now, I wonder what he’s hungry for,” Rachel chimed in. “Go ask him.”

The child turned and scampered out of the kitchen.

“Aw, he’s playin’ with her,” Susanna whispered to Rachel. “She’ll come back wantin’ a piece of pie, you watch.”

A right curious look came over Rachel’s face, and Susanna caught herself gazing in wonderment at her grown daughter. It was an honest-to-goodness glow! Susanna couldn’t quite remember seeing Rachel look so radiant. Well, no she
did
recall, now that she thought ’bout it. Back when Rachel was sixteen and had first met up with Jacob Yoder. Jah, that’s when it was… .

Annie soon returned to tell them just what Susanna had predicted. “Dawdi Ben wants to have the first taste of apple pie, if that’s all right with Mammi Susanna, he says.”

The two women burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” asked Annie, eyes wide.

“Aw, honey, we’re not makin’ fun of you, not a’tall.” Susanna waved her hand, still laughing so hard the tears were coming. “I think it’s ’bout lunchtime here perty soon.”

Annie, bless her heart, looking ever so perplexed, turned and went to report to her grandfather.

Rachel stooped to pet Copper, and while she did, Susanna heard her whisper something ’bout it snowing so hard the puppy would hafta stay in the house all day. “Just like all the rest of us.”

“‘Tis awful cold out,” Susanna ventured, hoping to draw her daughter into conversation.

“Jah, and from what Lavina says, we’ll prob’ly hafta hitch up a sleigh to the horse so we can get to Leah’s tomorrow.”

Susanna peered out the window. “Well, if it keeps a-comin’ down like it is, we’ll have us a white Christmas this year.”

“Would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Nodding, Susanna caught herself, realizing anew that her daughter could not see even the slightest movement. “It’s
wunnerbaar
—wonderful—to see you wearing colors again,” she said softly. “And green suits you right fine.”

Rachel’s face broke into a smile. “
Denki
… it’s gut of you to say so.”

It was then that Susanna wondered if the color of the dress had been the reason for Rachel’s radiance. Or was it that she’d gotten so used to the drab grays and blacks that she’d forgotten how rosy-cheeked Rachel could be in blues and greens?

“I daresay you’ll be the talk of the frolic tomorrow,” she said. “The womenfolk ain’t seen anything but mourning clothes on you for so long.”

Rachel didn’t say a word, just sat quietly at the table, still stroking Copper’s back.

“This is an awful nice change for you.” Pausing for a moment, she was eager to press on. “Does this mean you’re movin’ past your grief?”

Blinking self-consciously, Rachel replied, “I doubt anyone ever gets over the grief of losin’ a beloved husband and child, Mam. I just don’t see how.”

So Rachel’s choice of colors didn’t mean what Susanna thought … hoped, really.

“I get ever so weary of folks starin’ hard at me,” Rachel blurted out. “I can
feel
their stares.”

Susanna was somewhat surprised at this admission. But she needn’t have been, now that she thought on it, for she herself had witnessed some of the womenfolk lookin’ on Jacob Yoder’s widow with eyes full of pity.

“Lavina’s one of the few who doesn’t,” Rachel remarked. “She may not be very smart ’bout book learning, but in other ways she’s wiser than us all.”

Susanna was disturbed to hear that assessment of her husband’s rattlebrained cousin. Just how wise Lavina was, well, that was perty obvious after all these years. “She oughta know better’n to push the bishop’s hand on the probationary shunning, really. Attending the Beachy church and all.”

Rachel exhaled audibly. “Lavina wants to follow the Lord just like the rest of us. Maybe more so.”

“Well, whatever does
that
mean?” Susanna was feeling a bit put out.

“She’s searching for truth in the Scriptures … just like Esther and Levi and I. Lavina’s as hungry for the gospel as Dat is for the first piece of your apple pie.”

Susanna didn’t quite know what to say to that. So she kept quiet, waiting—ear tuned—for the oven timer to ding and interrupt the flow of this nonsense talk.

Rachel was happy to have a chance to finish her taped letter later in the afternoon before supper preparations. She waited till Annie fell asleep for a nap, then reached for the tape recorder, beginning where she’d left off.

I’m back again, Esther. I had to stop a bit and do some baking with Mam, and before that Annie and I got into quite a long conversation, but now I’ll take up where I left off.

I’ve been meaning to ask: Do either you or Levi know anything ’bout how Gabe Esh died? The reason I ask is Lavina said something right startling to me the other day—about Bishop Seth Fisher and Gabe’s death. Don’t know if I oughta say it on tape and all, but some folk ’round here evidently were suspicious of the reason for my great-uncle’s death back then. If you happen to know something, will ya tell me? I’ll leave it up to you if you wanna put your answer on tape or not … or you could tell me sometime when you’re visitin’ here, which just got me thinking how nice it would be if you and Levi and the children could come to Lancaster for Christmas. Will you think about it, at least?

Well, the Lord bless and keep you and your little ones. I miss you, Esther. Really, I do! I best sign off for now.

Your Pennsylvania cousin,

Rachel

Leah Stoltzfus found
great
pleasure in telling her youngest daughters, Molly and Sadie Mae, the news that their widowed cousin, Rachel Yoder, had “turned a corner” on her grieving.

“What’s it mean, then?” Sadie Mae asked, brown eyes wide with wonder. “Surely she won’t start showin’ up at the singings on Sunday nights. She’s too old for such things!”

“Well, no, but it does mean you and your sister can start spreadin’ the word on her behalf,” Leah was quick to say, enjoying the flurry her news had caused.

“So now there’s
another
woman lookin’ for a husband?” Molly’s mouth dropped open. “I’d say we’d best keep it quiet.”

Sadie Mae pulled up a chair near the wood stove. She looked more than a mite worried, her forehead creased with concern. “Ain’t even enough fellas for us girls of courtin’ age. You know it’s true, Mamma.”

Her Sadie had a point, but that didn’t stop Leah. “I heard tell of a Paradise widower eager to marry.”

“How old is he?” asked Molly.

“A farmer?” asked Sadie Mae. “Most all the young women wanna marry a farmer.”

“Who’s got plenty of land,” added Molly.

The girls burst into laughter.

“He’s not so old. Not a farmer, neither.” Leah sighed, wondering if she should continue. After all, the thirty-year-old blacksmith was a distant cousin to Gabriel Esh, her own uncle, though the blood lines were thinned way out, even enough for one of her own daughters to consider John for a possible husband. Thing was, John Lapp was known to have an occasional temper flare-up, wanted things done just so; Leah wouldn’t have wished that type of fella on either of her darlings. Besides, he was too old for her girls, prob’ly.

But now, Rachel Yoder was another story altogether. Leah wondered if someone like the smithy Lapp might not be a gut idea for her widowed niece, the way Rachel seemed so awful unsettled and all. ’Course if it was
her
, there would’ve been no getting her into a courtin’ buggy with the likes of one John Lapp.

“Just ain’t that many widowers ’round here, Mamma,” Molly spoke up again. “Rachel’s twenty-six now, ain’t so?”

“Close to twenty-seven … birthday’s a-comin’ in February.”

“Maybe she’s too old to get married again,” Sadie Mae offered. “After all, look at Lavina. She never seemed to mind being an alt Maedel.”

“Some mind more than others,” she said, keeping an eye on her girls’ faces.

“The older men get snatched up the minute a wife dies, you know,” offered Sadie Mae. “But I’m thinkin’ that maybe Rachel ain’t much interested in marrying again. After all, she’s blind.”

Molly nodded her head. “But Rachel can perty much do what any of us can.”

“And to think we used to say she was touched in the head,” said Sadie.

“Seems to me a woman who’s grieved so awful hard for her first husband might just not be able to let herself love another.” This from Molly.

“Jah, but think of poor little Annie,” said Sadie. “Can you imagine goin’ through life without even
one
brother or sister?”

Molly snickered. “Bein’ the only child of the family? Jah, I’d like to know what that’d be like.”

The girls exchanged snooty glances.

“Now, girls,” Leah scolded, “quit your bickerin’, for pity’s sake.”

Sadie Mae rose and hurried out to the utility room off the kitchen. Molly, in turn, headed upstairs, her feet much too heavy on the steps.

“Well, now, the word’s out about Rachel,” Leah muttered, turning her attention to finishing a cross-stitch pattern on a pillowcase. “Won’t be long till Paradise comes a-callin’.”