The River (17 page)

W
hy’d I come here tonight, you ask?” Joseph mocked Tilly as they stood out near the stable. “After all I’ve just told ya, ain’t it obvious?”

She’d had enough of his accusations. “You’ve made your point,” she said, giving him that much. “I’m going inside now.” She moved in the direction of the house, recalling Mamm’s mournful look as she’d followed Joseph out there earlier.

“You’ve forgotten that you’re not in the English world here, Tilly,” he called after her. “On the outside, womenfolk do as they please, disregarding their men . . . their sacred covering under
Gott
.”

His voice was becoming fierce, like Daed’s could be. And his words were inflexible . . . demanding.

She kept walking. “I’ve chosen a different way, brother,” she said over her shoulder.

“But you
will
have to answer for your actions . . . at the Judgment,” her brother declared. “Remember this day—this very moment, Tilly. Remember it and you will weep later.”

She turned just then, stopping to wait for him to start reciting something from a recent sermon; he sounded that
fired up. But nothing came. Tilly looked at him, his mouth pressed into a firm line, his sharp eyes narrowed to near slits. “Christ Jesus has set me free,” she told Joseph. “And while I didn’t leave here in search of a strong faith, I certainly have found it. I’ve found love and acceptance in my Lord and Savior. And I have a husband and children who share that faith.”

Joseph stared at her, openmouthed. “Given all of that, don’t you feel the need to repent? Return to the Old Ways—not be so prideful?”

“Actually, I don’t. I was never a member of the church here. I haven’t broken any vows.”

“But ya stole Ruthie away.”

“It was her idea from the start. There was no coercion from me,” she insisted. “None.”

Slowly he shook his head, eyes holding hers. “I don’t believe you.”

“Joseph, do you really think you know Ruthie? Do you?” Tilly tried to keep her voice calm, to not let her emotion get the better of her. “You never were one to spend much time with her. When our sister’s heart was breaking, did you ever try to understand her? That’s what loving siblings do.”

“So you think you’re the perfect sister because she wrote to you, is that it?”

“Ruthie sought my counsel.”

Joseph spat on the ground. “And just what constitutes a good counselor?”

He was egging her on, enjoying the battle too much.
Daed’s son
.

“The fact remains, Ruth needed someone and she chose me. She asked for a one-way ticket out of here, and I cared
enough to help. End of story.” Tilly turned boldly and kept walking this time, not interested in hearing more.

He’d left one thing unsaid and untouched: Joseph hadn’t brought up the topic of their little sister’s drowning. But it was there all the same—she’d seen it in his pained eyes. Surely he blamed her for that, as well.

Not saying good-bye, she hurried to the house. There, she restrained herself and closed the back door quietly, even though everything within her wanted to slam it.

The evening star looked like a tiny white spotlight in the darkening sky, and Ruth pointed it out to Will as they wandered down the grassy slope, making their way toward the road.

“I’d like to walk ya home,” Will said suddenly. “If that’s all right.”

Ruth didn’t want to say no, not as connected to him as she felt just now. Strangely, it was as if they’d never parted. “My family won’t understand if we’re seen together,” she said, hoping he’d respect her desire for caution.

“You’re prob’ly right. I’ll walk ya just to the end of the driveway.” He was quiet awhile, then reached for her hand. “It’s time I did better by you, Ruthie . . . did things the right way.”

“I’m settled in my new life, a long ways from here,” she reminded him.

He squeezed her hand gently. “What would ya think if we talked about that?”

Her heart started to leap again, nearly out of control. “What do you mean?”
Do I even want
to know?

“Just simply this—I love ya and would like to have the
chance to court you properly, Ruthie Lantz, now that I’m back on a straight path here.”

After all the heartache, this was so much to take in, so fast. “I’m an Englisher now, Will. I go to a community church, have a job, and live in a house with every modern convenience.” Ruth held her breath, their fingers intertwined. “And something else.”

“Jah?”

“Can you tell me what’s become of Arie?” It was impossible to forget Will’s happy reaction to seeing the gregarious young woman on Sunday after Preaching.

“I’m glad you asked that,” he said quickly. “I want everything to be out in the open between us, from now on. My friendship with Arie is strictly that. She’s not my girlfriend.”

Will went on to say that Arie had come to visit her uncle and aunt for a few weeks, during which time Will had befriended her. “I heard she was struggling in her Old Order church back in Ohio, longing for more freedoms. She had some leanings toward a faster group, one kind of like the Jamborees.” Will looked mildly embarrassed at the reference to his former buddy group. “But because I experienced a conversion—or so the bishop calls it—someone thought I might be able to help Arie. That’s all there is to it,” he insisted. “No romance at all.”

“Maybe the interest is more on her side?” Ruth suggested, unsure why she was pushing so.

Will acknowledged that it might be possible. “I haven’t led her on, if you’re wondering.”

Should Ruth believe him, in light of his supposed change of heart? Will had never been deceitful about other girls before, though he’d let Lloyd Blank lead him off track. But that was over and done with, wasn’t it? And, by the looks of it, Will
had brought Lloyd back to the Eden Valley church, too. Ruth recalled seeing them together yesterday at Preaching, their expressions solemn—no smirks like from some of the younger unbaptized fellows.

“Have you joined church, then?”

“I’ve been in touch with my Dawdi Kauffman, the deacon, ya know, and Bishop Isaac, too, lookin’ ahead to my baptism next fall, after the instruction classes.” Then, stopping on the road, he asked, “What ’bout you, Ruthie? Has there been anyone for you up there in Massachusetts?”

She didn’t know why, but she was pleased he’d asked. She told him about the singles group she attended once a month. “I’ve gone out with a couple of nice young men, yes. And more recently, one in particular.” She thought of Jim Montgomery. How would he feel if he’d seen Ruth so snug in Will’s arms this evening? She felt sad . . . maybe even a little guilty.

“I worried ’bout that,” Will said quietly while the moon peeked its white face over the eastern horizon. “You’re so pretty, Ruthie, and kind, too. I thought for sure I’d lost ya forever.”

Speechless, she felt the same wonderful-good emotions again, knowing his gentle look and words were for her. Oh, her poor mind was so mixed up!

“Would ya ever consider joining church back here, Ruthie? In due time, maybe?”

Her heart pounded in her ears. He must really care for her, to want an Amish-turned-English girl for his sweetheart. “It would mean giving up a lot,” she replied, feeling tentative. “That’s not something I can decide overnight. It would take some serious thought.”

“I’d do my best to make sure you were never sorry. I can promise ya that.”

Ruth’s head was filled with the things Tilly, especially, would be saying. Oh, she needed to slow things down, didn’t she? She must, somehow. Without a doubt, there would surely be a big discussion about this with her close sister.
No one knows
me better.
“I’m not ready to make a decision, Will. Please understand.”

“Take your time, then, dear.”

It surprised her greatly, knowing Will as she had, that he did not press for an answer.
So unlike him.

“I know the idea of us as a couple could take some gettin’ used to,” he said boldly.

People would think
I don’t know my own mind if I come
back here to live,
she thought. But Ruth knew the bigger question was where God wanted her to be. She pondered all of this as she glanced toward her father’s house. “It’s so complicated,” she said before they parted.

“Will ya think ’bout it—pray, too?” he asked.

She agreed, albeit reluctantly, and turned to hurry up the driveway.

Tilly was getting settled in Anna’s room and decided to utilize some of the space in the second drawer for her few items, knowing it was more an excuse than a need. She opened the drawer and caught her breath.

The wooden box was gone. Was she mistaken about which drawer?

Breathing faster, Tilly pulled open the third drawer and found nothing.

Did Mamm move it
?

She was stumped. At the sound of Ruth’s footsteps in the hallway, she quickly rose to stand in the doorway, wanting to
greet her. “You were gone so long. Are you okay?” She noticed Ruth’s very rosy cheeks . . . too red to be from just the evening’s relatively mild air.

“I ran into Will Kauffman near the cemetery.” Ruth shrugged, looking sheepish. “I know, an unlikely place to meet.” Then she reached for Tilly’s hand. “I need to talk to you, sister.”

Tilly had a peculiar feeling, dreading what might be coming. “Sure, Ruthie, come in.” She stepped away from the door to let Ruth pass.

For as long as Tilly could remember, Ruth had been plainspoken about most everything in her life. Tonight was no exception as she began to lay out the matter regarding Will Kauffman. “He says he’s never stopped loving me.”

Tilly pulled the only chair in the room over next to the bed where Ruth sat, her long legs dangling off the edge. “Well, I guess one of the questions you must ask yourself is, Do you still care for
him
?”

Ruth listened, apparently receptive.

“And furthermore, do you care enough to return to Amish life?”

“How can I possibly know that?”

“About loving him or about returning?”

“It’s always been a bit hard for me to think of marrying anyone other than Will. Maybe because he was my first love, you know.”

“But?” Tilly prodded.

Ruth sighed and pushed herself up toward the head of the bed. “He’s not interested in going fancy—he made that pretty clear—so I’d have to give up everything back in Rockport.”

“Including your church friends . . . and living near me,” Tilly pointed out to see what she’d say.

“And many other things I’ve come to appreciate and enjoy.” Ruth’s face was solemn.
And wonderful Jim . . .

“You’ll have to count the cost, I guess.”

Ruth was quiet for a moment. She leaned her cheek against her hand. “This has come up so fast, Tilly. I just don’t know what to tell Will. It’s not that he’s putting pressure on me, though. Not really.”

“That’s a good thing. I’d hate to see him push you into something you’re not sure of.” She didn’t want to add to Ruthie’s strain, either.

“I said I’d pray about it.”

Tilly smiled, touching her sister’s knee. “Do you really need to, Ruthie?”

“You must think I already know my heart.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me these past few years, I think you probably do know. You’ve moved in a different direction from the Plain life.”

Ruth slid off the bed and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Tilly. You’re the best sister ever.”

Tilly watched Ruthie shuffle across to her room, still concerned.
If she’s not careful and
spends more time with Will, she’ll likely become even
more confused.

———

Feeling all wound up, Ruth sat in her room long after she’d put out the lantern. She pinched herself twice to make sure she hadn’t dreamed the meeting with Will. “He says he loves me,” she whispered.

Her mind was turning. What should she do first? Or should she do anything? After all, this was the very man who had broken her heart before. Could she really trust that he had
changed his ways . . . and that his interest in her now was for the good of both of them?

Should I confide further in Tilly
? Or Mamm?
Oh, to think Will wants to court
me!