CHAPTER THREE
Rachael cuddled her pillow, face-down, and sobbed like a boppli. How could he do this to her? They’d been through so much together, and now, he chose to give his mamm their love letters. Didn’t she mean anything to him?
“I hate him!” sobbed Rachael as she drew fists and pounded them onto her feather bed. “He’s so selfish, so mean.”
Had he found another woman, another possible fraa in Shipshewana? Maybe he found someone prettier or better yet, someone whose parents liked him.
She had to admit that the tension between grossdaedi and him had probably made him feel inferior, like he’d never be able to fit in.
If only grossdaedi hadn’t gotten so close to Elijah, Jeremiah would have had a chance. It wasn’t right to torment two adults that loved each other. Why, Jeremiah was doing very well in Shipshewana.
She remembered the bishop’s words. “Let’s hope that you don’t do what Jeremiah did; he just ran from his flock.”
Why would he run? Maybe he was coming down here to confront her grossdaedi? Maybe he wanted to plead for acceptance for the one that he loved? That sounded like Jeremiah. Being that she was shunned, it would make it hard to communicate with her parents while Jeremiah was there.
Wait a minute: Jeremiah was shunned too. How in the world would they be able to talk to her parents about what had happened? Were they really bringing the boppli? The boppli had been adopted out; Rachael knew that, for sure.
I have a dochder.
For once, it finally hit her: she had a three-year-old dochder, who she had deserted.
“Awful mamm, Rachael!” she scolded herself. Jeremiah had told her that she had delivered a healthy baby girl, and that his mamm had thought it best to give the boppli to the nurse since she had been praying for a baby for ten years.
If truth be told, Rachael had felt unworthy to be a mother since she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock. She felt bad for being drunk, too.
But we were in Rumspringa.
She was unable to defend herself this time. I brought a life into this world, and I need to take responsibility.
Responsibility wasn’t what she dreaded. It was the looks and stares and having to confess before the church. She’d be treated differently for the rest of her life, and she knew it.
Now, a pebble hit the back window, followed by another pebble. It must be Clara, her Englisch friend and neighbor. She’s the only one, other than Elijah, who would throw pebbles. Jeremiah had always knocked on the door, making his presence known throughout the haus. Who knows, maybe he should have thrown pebbles and stayed low?
Patting her face dry with the yoke of her dark cape dress, Rachael strode to the window and pulled the blue curtain up. Leaning against the cool window pane, she saw Jeremiah, his deep velvety eyes sparkling. His high cheek bones and thick, naturally-dark skin highlighted his handsome face. His gorgeous black hair was cut short, his bangs still perfectly framing his face. He looked a little taller than before, and his pocketless pants looked a little looser.
Working on the dairy farm must have been keeping him busy, burning calories quicker. Rachael bet that Maria’s sticky buns, with extra, gooey brown sugar and farm-fresh butter, had about two-thousand calories per heaping twin-pack. But she could eat two twin packs. Surely, Jeremiah was gobbling down at least three twin-packs of the delicious, mouth-watering rolls.
Rachael smiled and waved. He waved toward the road. He wanted to talk. Rachael crisscrossed the bedroom floor, grabbed her coat from the wooden peg, and quietly strode to the door, leaving it partly open. Carefully, she made her way down the staircase, holding onto the banister lightly to muffle her footsteps. The staircase was old and needed a new clear coating. One day, Earl had said that he and her bruders would make it like new. That day had never come.
Quietly crisscrossing the living area, she made her way to the front door. Carefully, the knob turned, and she was out the door to meet Jeremiah. Her legs couldn’t go fast enough as she strode through the front yard and down the steep hill, where he was standing along the roadside.
It was good that the steep hill partially shielded the road from the downstairs window-view.
Jeremiah’s six-foot statue looked just as strong as it had before he had gone to Shipshewana, despite his waist looking a couple inches thinner. His deep brown eyes twinkled, and his tanned face curved into a gentle smile. He said now, “How’s one of my girls?”
His words caused her to grimace. One of his girls? She was only girl. Sure, he had dated two other Amish girls, but they had left for Rumspringa and never returned, so they weren’t a threat to her. And that was when she’d been dating Elijah, so she hadn’t cared. Now, she did care.
Rachael asked, “What did you mean by “one of my girls?” She walked up to him and narrowed her brow. He better tell her now! Her hands flung upon her wide hips, and her blue eyes were glued to his brown eyes. “Speak up, Jeremiah!” she insisted as she stomped her left foot. The sun’s rays beamed down, glaring her view of him, and she was glad, because she felt like screaming in his face. She’d thought that she’d been the only one: the love of his life. Hesitation had always etched in the middle of her gut; she’d sensed that he hadn’t been truthful to her.
And he had not.
Three other women: all fooled; all taken advantage of by his charm.
In a defensive tone, he said, “I had been dating Rebecca Yoder and Hannah Bender, Rachael.”
The sun broke away just as she turned her mad gaze to him. He was being senseless. Of course, she knew that he had dated those two girls before she started dating him. She said, “I already knew that, so why get me so upset? You’ve already gotten me shunned by letting your mamm give our letters to Bishop Troyer! And about the boppli, too!”
“How do you think I feel, Rachael? I have been shunned too, but I had to come clean about our relationship. It was to protect you!” he yelled, his brow arching, his eyes persuasive.
She wasn’t buying it. “To protect me from your mamm? Why did she move up to Shipshewana abruptly anyway?” She was talking about his mamm’s sudden overnight move to Shipshewana, after the boppli was born and adopted out. She’d transferred her membership, and no one could figure out why. She and her husband had appeared to enjoy life in Sugarcreek.
“To care for the baby!” He said in a hesitant tone. He didn’t feel like getting beat up by a raging blonde-haired girl right now. He’d already been shunned, so that was enough. Having her mad at him because of disclosing their secret place and the fact that she’d gotten pregnant had been his plan. He didn’t want to break her heart by dumping her, so he wanted to make her hate him.
It was working. She got in his face and screamed, “The Englisch nurse and her husband have the baby, remember?”
“Mamm has the baby.” He hung his head, for that wasn’t the whole story, but he couldn’t tell her everything. If only they hadn’t stayed together overnight in the store the year that they’d been in Rumspringa, he wouldn’t have been in such a mess. She wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. Now, here he was, and he’d messed up again, with another girl, and an Englisch one at that, but he wouldn’t dare tell her.
Jeremiah’s tone rose as he backed away. “She is doing fine being a grossmammi, Rachael. Let’s let her stay up there, and I am staying down here.”
Rachael burst into tears. She remembered the deal was that the Englisch nurse would take the boppli and secretly raise her as her own. What had happened? Why had the nurse brought the boppli back?
Pity drew in Jeremiah’s saddle-brown eyes, and compassion lined his mouth. He reached down and wiped her tears away. “Listen, sweetheart, we could all go to jail if anyone finds out. In our eyes, because you were so young and unwed, what we did was a good thing, but in the eyes of the Englisch, it is wrong, and illegal.”
She looked up, he
r gut aching, as she thought about the boppli. Jeremiah was right: even today, she wouldn’t know how to care for a boppli. She had a lot of growing up to do.
He decided to come clean. He had to. She didn’t hate him yet. He didn’t know any other way to break off their relationship so that he could marry Rebecca Yoder. He’d promised his mamm that he would do the right thing this time. Rebecca was four months pregnant, but she had a rather large frame, so he thought that she might not show until her last trimester. Planning a spring wedding was unusual, but not unheard of by the Amish folk. He said now, “I am marrying Rebecca Yoder.”
“You double-life man!” screamed Rachael as she swung her right hand up and smacked him across the face. “I hate you!” The bright sun’s rays returned, blocking her view of him. She stomped her feet and yelled, “Elijah was better than you anyway! He will come back one day. He doesn’t lie like you!”
“Ask him who your boppli’s daed is, Rachael. I took the blame for your mistake. You were with him in the shop, not me. You were drunk and screaming for me to let you two be, so that you could talk things over, so in my lesser judgment, I let you be.” He ran his hand over his stinging face. She sure can hit good, he thought. He added, “I would never be able to stay in our close-knit community if the bishop knew that I allowed an Englischer to get you pregnant.”
Air bounced around her matted, lose blonde hair, somewhat drying the tears away. “I was with you. I was dating you. Elijah was the one that brought the beer in, remember?”
“Ja, but I left for the night, and he stayed there with you.” He announced, the sun moving over to his left. His deep brown eyes sparkled. His words shocking Rachael. She had just assumed that she had clung to him that night. Until now, she had thought that Jeremiah was the boppli’s father.
“Where is Elijah?” she asked, sweeping a gaze over him. Did Elijah know that he was the daed of her boppli? Would he have left if he had known?
Jeremiah walked closer, his tone gentle, “That is why he left, Rachael. He was shunned; that is true, but he decided to leave because he couldn’t handle being untruthful to you. I covered for him, and I am now regretting it.
“My familye loved Elijah, and they still do.” She uttered as wind blew loose strands of deep blonde hair from underneath her white prayer kapp.
“But would they still love him if they knew that he got you pregnant?” Jeremiah asked with hesitation. He doubted it. Poor Rachael, she seemed like she still had feelings for Elijah.
She pointed her finger in his face and said, “They still look for him, Jeremiah.” Tears flew down her reddened cheeks. A brisk winter chill blew the hem of her navy cape dress, spreading it amidst the asphalt. She blew hot air and shook her head. “They still think he’ll be back one day.”
“He is back. He’s meeting with the bishop tonight. I have to go.” He bluntly said, before turning and muttering, “You’re shunned. Remember that. You cannot speak to him!’
She yelled, “Where is he staying?”
He turned and said, “His aenti Ruth’s haus.”
Good, Ruth likes me, and she has been known to bend the rules, thought Rachael as she turned to walk up the steep brown-covered hill. Some stray birds flew above her head, not forming the usual group. They are lost, like me, broken, and not part of the group, she thought as she made her way to the front door. Would she ever be whole, like Gott had created her to be? She sent up a prayer through the cold, winter air. “Gott, please forgive me, and please bring my boppli back home.”