“Wake up, Caleb! Wake up, I say!”
Someone was shaking him, and when he opened his eyes, Caleb looked into the glowering face of his grandfather.
“
Du muscht mir here!
Hearken to me!”
Gradually he became aware of his surroundings—the Dawdi Haus . . . and Nellie Mae asleep on his shoulder. And his grandfather, who was staring at Nellie, too, with her lovely hair strewn over her shoulders.
Caleb sat up quickly.
“I’ll be havin’ a word with ya, son. Upstairs.”
Caleb rose without speaking, first releasing Nellie, who must also have slept through much of the night on the settee. The old stove was now as cold as it had been warm earlier. Nervously he followed up the narrow steps. Without a doubt, he would catch what for.
Were the private hours alone with his beloved worth the tongue-lashing he was sure to receive? As Dawdi closed the door to the front bedroom, Caleb was suddenly concerned for Nellie Mae, who was all alone now. Would Mammi go in and speak straight to her, too?
Her hair being down is an abomination.
He recalled how responsive Nellie had been last evening.
How, once he’d assured her there was nothing to fear, she had seemingly enjoyed his touch, leaning toward him as they kissed. But there was plenty to fear, he knew.
What
have I done?
Wide awake now, he sat down on the cane chair as Dawdi instructed. “Listen here, Caleb, if I were your father, I’d be out and out
angscht
—concerned.”
Eyes cast down, he nodded. He knew better than to speak too soon, if at all. He must wait till Dawdi had his say and only then offer an apology. He had to do something to keep this mum, though.
What a foolish thing . . . not count-
ing the cost beforehand.
Nellie was far more prudent than he—she’d asked repeatedly if they were taking unnecessary risks, and her fears had been proven true. For putting her in such a bad light, he was most sorry.
“You ain’t turning out to be like your big brother Abe, are ya?” Dawdi bellowed.
At the mention of Abe’s name, Caleb blanched. Abe was the family’s black sheep, as his father had called him for a full year following—that and so much worse. No, Caleb was nothing like that brother.
“I’m waitin’ for your answer, Caleb.” Dawdi’s eyes were black as stones.
“My intentions toward Nellie Mae have nothin’ to do with Abe’s mistake.” Caleb swallowed his dread and considered how shallow his defense would sound. After all, his grandfather had found the two of them asleep together.
“Well, my guess is that you’ll be marryin’ this girl, jah?”
“This year.”
“The sooner the better, ain’t that right?” Dawdi’s eyes narrowed, growing more solemn. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Caleb. What you feel for Nellie Mae has nothin’ at all to do with marriage or a future together. Not commitment, neither.”
Inwardly, Caleb disagreed. He loved holding Nellie in his arms, kissing her—he’d scarcely been able to stop. She was to be his bride, after all.
Dawdi rose and stood in the window, his outline dark in the predawn light. “You like this girl a lot, that’s apparent. But if you love her, you’ll make sure she’s pure on your weddin’ night.”
Caleb cringed. This Dawdi was more plainspoken than his own father, who had never talked about the birds and the bees or suchlike. “We did not sin as you believe,” he spoke up.
Dawdi made a vague gesture in the dim light. “I don’t mean to run this into the ground, but hear me out. The first kiss opens the door. You begin to crave more kissin’ and whatnot, and soon you yearn to have all of her.” His brow furrowed as he pulled on his long gray beard.
Dawdi walked toward him, paused, frowning, and sat down again. “There’s more, Caleb.”
He shifted in his seat. When would this stream of criticism cease?
“That’s Reuben Fisher’s daughter downstairs, jah?”
Caleb felt goose bumps down his back. “Jah, Nellie Mae is Reuben’s.”
A deafening silence, then—“I think you know your father’s stand on courting a girl from Preacher Manny’s bunch.”
“Jah, I do.”
“Yet you deliberately spent the night with her?” Dawdi harrumphed. “How do you think your father will react to this?”
My father?
He stood up to protest. “I promise you, Dawdi, this will never happen again.”
His grandfather rose, eyes glaring. “That is for certain, and your father will see to it.”
Caleb groaned. “But, Dawdi . . .”
“How could you risk your land for a girl from the Fisher family? Haven’t you heard the stories—how Suzy died in the arms of an Englischer?”
Caleb dropped his gaze.
“Your inheritance hangs in the balance. Don’t be a fool.”
Dawdi eyed him, his meaning all too clear to Caleb.
Too stunned to speak, Caleb left the room.
Downstairs, he found Nellie weeping, her hair wound up in a makeshift bun, eyes red and swollen. Mammi sat erect in a wooden chair.
Because he’d brought all of this upon her, Caleb fought the lump in his throat as he helped her into her long woolen coat. Mammi gave them both a sour look as he ushered Nellie Mae out of the front room and toward the back door without another word.
Nellie could not speak for her embarrassment, not only for herself but for the dreadful things Caleb’s grandfather had presumed of them. Pressing her lips together to keep from crying, she shivered in the morning cold as she recalled the shouting concerning Abe Yoder, Caleb’s oldest married brother. Had Abe pushed the sacred boundaries as a youth? If so, to think David Yoder and his family had kept that secret till now.
Her thoughts whirled as Caleb hurried the horse, recalling how he’d shown such grave concern over Suzy’s sowing wild oats . . . over
her
suspected indiscretions—mere hearsay at the time. Yet, all the while, he’d been privy to his own brother’s very real sin.
It appeared no one was good enough. No matter how hard she strived, it was impossible to completely measure up. Preacher Manny had said so quite clearly the time she’d gone to the New Order church, adding that God’s Son did for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves.
With the way she’d longed for Caleb last night, Nellie was a sinner, too. She’d wanted him enough to prematurely push past the courtship boundaries, letting down her hair.
Even so, she mustn’t fret over what might come of her and Caleb’s recklessness. She’d made a poor choice, and now she must live with the consequences. She and Caleb had set themselves up for being found out, and that’s exactly what had transpired.
She shouldn’t have allowed her jealousy over Susannah Lapp to fuel her vulnerability. Yet she had no excuse. Nellie knew that she, and not Susannah, was responsible for her actions.
Knowing the truth as she did, she could easily let herself be disgusted with Caleb and his family. She thought of Caleb’s brother Abe and found herself grinding her teeth.
The Yoders were the biggest hypocrites she’d ever known!
Presently Caleb’s breathing was rapid, as fast as when suddenly they’d pushed apart last night, ceasing their kissing. But he also wore a look of both determination and frustration, one she had not witnessed before.
Truly, they were equally at fault. After all, hadn’t she encouraged his affection . . . giving hers so gladly?
Her emotions flew back and forth between love and sheer disappointment—with Caleb and with herself. She sat straight as a board as the horse galloped all the way back to Beaver Dam Road, coming to a halt at the end of her lane.
“When the dust settles, we must talk.” Caleb jumped out of the buggy and came around to help her down.
She needed no help and wished to go inside quickly.
Nonetheless, he pulled her up close and, before she could object, kissed her soundly on the lips. Nothing like the sweet yet passionate kisses earlier, this kiss felt reckless, even possessive. Slipping free, she stepped back and appraised her beau. “It was impossible not to hear what your Dawdi said ’bout your brother Abe.”
He looked her square in the eyes. “This doesn’t change anything for us, does it?”
She stared past him to the pale horizon. There was precious little time before her father would make his way to the barn. Mamma would be getting up, too, setting the table for breakfast.
I spent all night with Caleb, and now it is the Lord’s
Day.
“Next time, we’ll play it smart and stay at the millstream,” he said quietly.
She looked back at the house, relieved the windows were still dark. “Next time?
What
next time? Didn’t you hear your Dawdi?”
“Oh, Nellie, have I wronged you so?” He reached for her hand.
“We can’t take back what we’ve already given.” She felt as guilty as if she’d lost her virtue. “Our first kisses will never be new again.” She whimpered in his arms, her face pressed against the harsh weave of his wool coat.
“No matter what Dawdi said, I can’t be sorry for what we’ve shared, Nellie Mae. I just can’t.”
She understood that. Oh, how she did! She loved him desperately, yet she was more afraid than ever for their future.
“I best be goin’.” Nellie made a move toward the door, but Caleb quickly seized her shoulders, turning her around.
“Nellie, wait . . .” He sighed loudly. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry for that.”
“So am I.” She turned and walked toward the house.
“This doesn’t change my love for you.” Caleb’s words hung in the air like frost clinging hard to a tree.
Nellie whispered his name with each snowy step . . . as guilt engulfed her.
Nellie plodded out to the carriage bright and early to squeeze in along with Dat, Mamma, Nan, and Rebekah. This day she would be counted among those missing from the old church.
As dreadful as she felt over last night, she tried to dismiss Caleb from her thoughts while the buggy headed into the sun. All down the shimmering road, she wondered if the remorse she carried in her heart showed on her face. She’d peered into the small hand mirror in her room, searching for the slightest hint, fearing the People would suspect what she’d done.
A single moment had the power to alter one’s life, Mama had once told her. She’d thought the same of Suzy’s reckless living—her sister had learned of the perils of first love the hard way. Sometimes such affection was as short-lived as the morning dew. Mamma had always said it was old love—
long
love—that was best in the end.
Presently Mamma was commenting on how much warmer it was today than it had been for weeks.
Dat spoke up. “Months, it seems.”
Sitting behind her parents, Nellie tuned out the occasional remarks from Nan and Rebekah next to her, wishing for solitude. She was nearly too tired to sit up.
The fields were dazzling white as far as she could see.
Thanks to the unexpected sunshine, the day was brighter in all respects—a welcome change from the many gray weeks.
Nan and Rebekah continued their pleasant prattle, and Nellie went deep within herself, where the truth hurt most.
She’d thought more highly of herself than she ought. She was all puffed up, as Dat would say—filled with the pride of life,
her
life . . . thinking she could withstand temptation and putting herself right in the middle of it last night. She had tempted Caleb and herself, believing she was invulnerable to sin. According to Suzy’s diary—which she’d opened and read part of again this morning—it was far better to be repentant than to continually try to be good enough . . . on her own strength.
Nellie in that moment realized why she’d attempted to be good and failed: She’d wanted to do things her way.
That’s pride, pure and simple,
Suzy had scrawled across the top of one diary page, when considering her desire to forge her own path.
Nellie and her younger sister had quite a lot in common.
Caleb stood outside the preacher’s farmhouse, dog tired. He looked around, aware that Nellie Mae was not present. Had he offended her beyond her ability to forgive him? Certainly she’d not been herself when he’d taken her home before dawn—and no wonder. He could kick himself now for setting them up for his grandfather’s accusations.
Today, following the common meal, Dawdi would seek out Daed and the hammer would drop. It was not possible to brace himself for a calamitous response from his father, but he would not hesitate to say that Nellie and he were actually innocent, no matter how things may have looked to Dawdi.
Looking now at Abe, where his brother stood in the lineup of men waiting to go into the house for worship, he noticed the set of his jaw. Was Abe always this solemn on the Lord’s Day? Or was he merely reverent, and nothing more? Not till today had Caleb paid much mind to Abe, who already had five children and another on the way. Was he content with his lot in life, without an inheritance?
I must get Daed to hear me out,
he thought.
If only I
can get him to see the light . . . that Nellie Mae is still Old
Order through and through.
It was foolish, perhaps, to hope, but after last night, Caleb was convinced he must have Nellie Mae for his bride at any cost.