With that, he forgot all about me, reverting back to his language as he walked with the men to the front door and out.
Despite feeling quite reserved and thoughtful from the encounter with the bishop, I still shouted a silent yippee in my mind. I’d survived. And I was on track to being with Noah.
Hopefully, I’d only be seeing the pompous Bishop Lambright on Sundays.
“Child, are you still so willing to turn Amish after all that?” Ruth Hershberger appeared out of nowhere, and I instantly knew that the old woman had been eavesdropping. Her hands were placed rigidly on her plump hips; her eyes, camouflaged by the thick glasses, told me that she was expecting me to be heading out the door.
I’d show her—and the bishop—that I was dead serious.
Martha was still sitting in the chair with keen interest emanating from her body. I remembered to keep my response subdued and not say the first caustic thing that popped into my mind. “Mrs. Hershberger, I know that this will be difficult, but I’m committed to being with Noah, and I’m ready to begin my new life in your community to do so.”
Ruth’s stance softened a bit, while Martha’s mouth spread into a broad grin.
Ruth said, “If you’ll be living under my roof, I’ll be having you call me Ruth. We best start on the potatoes. With all those young’uns of the Millers coming for dinner, we’ll need an extra pot.”
“I’ll help you get started on those, Ruth,” Martha chirped as she stood. She reached out and gave my hand a squeeze before she followed Ruth over to the pantry.
Potatoes—I could peel potatoes. I was abruptly very happy knowing that Noah and his family were coming back that evening. I followed the two women to the counter with extra lightness to my step.
* * *
Moodily, I scraped the remnants of dinner from the dishes into the pot. Sarah was alongside me working in the sudsy water, and Rachel was busy clearing the last of the water glasses from the table. We were the only inhabitants in the kitchen besides Ruth and Rebecca, who were sitting leisurely at the far end of the table chatting away like busy birds. At first, it struck me as odd that the older women weren’t helping with the cleanup, but then I realized that they had the teenagers well trained for the job. And, unlike their English counterparts, these girls didn’t even dream of arguing about the chores.
I had been blissfully happy the entire afternoon. Peeling and cutting up the potatoes was no big chore, and the time had gone quickly, helped along by a bombardment of nosy questions from Martha and Ruth about my pre-Amish life.
After Martha had made her exit, Ruth had given me the grand tour of the two-story farmhouse. It was so similar to the Millers’ house that I’d been hard-pressed to find many differences. The house was large and I could imagine a time, long ago, when its rooms were full of the stomping of little feet and the laughing of children’s voices.
Ruth had asked me to sweep the downstairs while she picked some tomatoes in the garden, and I’d perkily went about my work. I wanted to impress Ruth, show her that an English girl could work as well as any Amish girl.
Being alone in the house had given me the opportunity to gather my thoughts and recover from my earlier encounter with the Amish law. I thought I’d handled myself admirably, but I was pricked with lingering doubt about what I was doing among these people. Would I ever really be okay with all the subservient crap that these women had to put up with?
I didn’t know, but as I’d made my way around the house I’d curiously spied into the Hershbergers’ lives. Of course there weren’t any portraits displayed anywhere, but there were quite a few pretty framed pictures about the walls, most of them with Bible verses inscribed on them. Touching the blue-and-tan quilt that was draped over the back of the sofa, I’d admired its designs before I’d wandered to the corner of the family room to check out the books that lined the shelves of the bookcase there. Most of them were spiritual in nature, but there were also some cookbooks and a few books of fiction that had struck me as the Amish equivalent to romance novels, with their covers sporting women with white caps and buggies in the background. After flipping through the pages of one, I’d placed it back on the shelf, smiling at Ruth’s pastime.
Having the opportunity to spend the rest of the afternoon with Ruth had settled my nerves down a few notches. She was a “say it like it is” sort of person with a very down-to-earth vibe. And, unlike the bishop, she didn’t quote any scripture to me, which I was relieved about. I sensed that she wasn’t the type of granny you’d want to tick off, but she was definitely a fair woman. I was betting that the two of us would get along just fine once we got to know each other.
By the time Noah and his family had finally come up the drive in a collection of three buggies, my insides had been bubbling with excitement. I was going to spend the entire evening with my guy, and my heart had beat frantically at the sound of the clip-clops pounding up the gravel.
The floating-on-air feeling had lasted about ten minutes more until I’d realized that Noah wasn’t coming straight into the house to see me. Instead, he’d hung about outside with the men, while the ladies had gotten the food put on the counter and finished with the water glasses. Even that hadn’t irritated me too much. What had caused my insides to shrivel was that Noah hadn’t looked at me, not even once, during the dinner.
He’d appeared exactly the same as he had earlier in the day when he’d taken me for my first buggy ride ever. The bruises on his perfect face were shrinking away to the point where he now looked as if he’d gotten into a fistfight, instead of being hit by a semi. His hair was still gloriously thick and sexy, and even though he was getting around on a walking cast, he managed to look cool, with no hint of clumsiness.
Noah was the same guy on the outside that I adored, but it was as if his brain had been snatched by an alien; he seemed like a completely different person. For instance, instead of flirting with me as he’d done hours before when his mom had allowed us to sit beside each other on the buggy seat, he was now acting as if I wasn’t even in the same room as him. I recalled how he’d caught my eyes only briefly enough to flash a wink at me before he’d followed Jacob out the door after the meal, abandoning me for masculine companionship.
Now, as I attacked the little bits of food clinging to the plates, I boiled inwardly. The only way I would survive this situation was if Noah helped me. If I had to play love games with him, I’d go mental for sure. The worst part was that all the indecision from the days before came flooding back in. I wouldn’t exactly call it regret that I was feeling, for I was still happy that I’d been able to see the guy that I loved for a little while, which would have been impossible had I not chosen this path. No, it was more of a quiet panic spreading through me that this was what all my days would be like—that I’d forever be chasing after Noah, unable to catch him.
Sarah and Rachel worked silently yet efficiently, and mostly distracted from the chore, I hustled to keep up with them. I was actually glad for the lack of conversation. But I couldn’t help but listen to the older women behind us.
They seemed perfectly content to relax, speaking Pennsylvania Dutch—a dialect of German—for a while, then abruptly switching to English. It was odd to my ears the way the languages flowed into each other with hardly a break. I’d perk up when words burst forth that I actually could understand.
“Yes, I am a trifle worried about dear Emilene. She issued all her previous ten children in the home, but with these twins and her difficulties this time, I do believe it would be wise for her to plan on a hospital birth,” Ruth said, concern cushioning the words.
My gloomy thoughts were interrupted; ten—twelve kids?
I stopped the scraping, turning to the women swiftly. “Did you just say ten children and she’s pregnant?”
Ruth looked at me, and there was that oh, I had forgotten all about you expression on her face.
But she recovered. “Why, yes, that is what I said. Emilene is my only daughter and my oldest. She is due to have her el
eventh and twelfth in about a month now.”
Rebecca was watching me carefully, and even Sarah and Rachel had stalled their labors to listen.
“How old is your daughter?” My brain just couldn’t comprehend that many kids coming out of one woman. Mrs. Miller had blown my mind with eight kids.
“Oh, let’s see, Emy will be forty-three in a few months.”
“Does she live here in this community?”
“Our church split about a year ago. She’s part of our greater community, but she lives just a few miles away, over the line to the North Road Church community.”
I couldn’t stop myself, I was on a roll now, and after answering all of Ruth and Martha’s questions about my home life, I figured it was high time I got a few in myself. “Why would your church split?” I was envisioning all sorts of nastiness.
My question seemed to please Ruth, who smiled and motioned me to take the seat beside her. I glanced at Sarah, who nodded her head toward the chair, pushing me lightly with her free hand.
“When our churches are blessed, growing very large, they are split, usually separated by a boundary such as a road or small town,” Ruth said once I was seated.
Rebecca added, “You see, we don’t want to have too many families within one church since our services are held in our homes. Most Amish can only handle a gathering of about, oh, fifteen to twenty family groups, before it becomes too crowded.”
Crossing my arms on the table and leaning forward, I asked, “Does every family host the service at some point or do just a few families divvy it up?”
“Oh, each family within the church takes their turn,” Rebecca went on, seeming to enjoy the flow of the conversation. “In our community, there are sixteen...or is it seventeen families?”
Here, Rebecca looked to Ruth who quickly nodded firmly, and said, “Seventeen. But with Jacob and Katie marrying in a few months and Lester and Barbara shortly after, our numbers will jump to nineteen right quick.”
Oh, yeah, Ruth was proud of the fact that her community was successful.
“Ruth, you ought to know better than to be talking of the weddings,” Rebecca scolded in a harsh whisper.
I felt as if I’d missed something, and I glanced at Sarah who had taken the seat beside me. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly at my questioning eyes. Rachel was less subtle, barking out a short laugh before plopping down in the seat beside her mom.
Ruth raised her tone a bit louder than I would have expected. “Land sakes, Rebecca, I didn’t even think about it since Katie’s been spouting her mouth for weeks.”
Rebecca let out a huff, but nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, you’re right. Katie has been overly excited about the news.”
The remembrance that Katie, Ella’s older sister, was marrying Noah’s brother, Jacob, suddenly popped into my mind. I was definitely lost and couldn’t help butting in again. “Why is it a big deal if Katie’s been talking about her upcoming wedding?”
Ruth and Rebecca telepathically sized each other up as to who was going to answer me. Ruth won.
“Oh, my, there is so much for you to learn, my girl,” she informed me. “It is our tradition to keep our engagements and the date of our weddings secret until a couple of months before the union.”
“Why?”
Ruth stopped to think, then looked at Rebecca again who raised her shoulders lightly, but left the question to Ruth.
“It’s just our way. There are many things about us that might not make sense to you, but there’s no reason to question it if it can’t be changed anyhow.”
“Oh, Rose, our community is a lot better than some of the other churches where the bride and groom are given only a month to announce the big day,” Rachel threw out, with the scrunched-up expression of distaste.
Unlike Sarah, who’d become my instant friend upon our first meeting, Rachel acted aloof around me. On the outside, the two girls looked nearly identical, except that Rachel’s hair was a shade darker than Sarah’s and she was an inch taller than her sister. Inwardly, though, Noah’s sisters were very different. Sarah was shy, but when she did lift her face, it usually framed a wide smile. She was always helpful and polite to everyone. Rachel, on the other hand, was more reserved—or even grumpy. Thinking back on it, I couldn’t recall ever seeing the younger girl sporting anything but the same droopy frown she had on now.
“When I was married to your da that’s how it was. My poor mam was in such a state trying to keep my brothers and your papaw’s mouths tight.” Mrs. Miller shook her head, smiling when she added, “Right glad that we don’t have to wait to such a late date to make the announcement now.”
“It was so long ago I can’t remember, but I reckon I only had a few weeks to openly make plans myself,” Ruth said, turning her attention back to me. “Have you ever been to an Amish wedding, Rose?”
“Can’t say that I have,” I told her.
“Our weddings are huge events, sometimes with over five hundred guests attending. Rebecca, what about Katie and Jacob, how many do they intend to invite?”
“I think the list is at four hundred and fifty-five right now.”
“Four seventy-two,” Sarah piped up.
“Oh, my, Bessie will have her hands full,” Rebecca said.
As the conversation moved to the details of Katie’s choice of server gifts, dishware and pies, I decided that I couldn’t recall a time when I ever sat for so long with a group of women. Even when my mom was alive, and we’d be at Aunt Debbie’s for a visit or holiday gathering, there would always be a guy around or the TV would be on or we’d be driving somewhere. To actually sit down and talk like this was unique—and nice, in a way.
My mind drifted, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Mom would have thought about these new women in my life. Somehow, I knew that she’d like them both. But whether she’d be okay with me becoming one of them was another story altogether. When I thought too much about it, my heart tightened—Mom wouldn’t like it one bit.
A loud sniff at the doorway turned all our heads. Butterflies fluttered in my belly at the sight of Noah leaning against the door frame. He didn’t look at me, though, directing all his attention to his mom instead.
“Noah, you best wait outside,” Rebecca said flatly. Her quick look to Sarah and Rachel had them up in a hurry, heading for the door.
Noah lingered for a few seconds after his sisters had slid by him. His eyes finally met mine, and they were round with anticipation before he disappeared out the door.
“Rose, dear, I must tell you that Amos and I were unaware of Abram’s intended visit today. Else, I would have prepared you ahead of time.”
When my eyes skipped to Ruth inadvertently, she said quickly, “Or I, child. James was as surprised as the rest of us to see them heading up our drive. It was a shame that you had barely stepped a foot in the kitchen when that whole business was thrown at you.”
The tone of the women’s voices had lowered, probably unconsciously, as if they worried that they were being listened to. The change of atmosphere was tangible, and I straightened up in my chair, leaning in closer so they could drop their voices further.
After a deep breath, Rebecca said, “It was Amos’s and my intention that you would join the church swiftly, followed closely by your courtship to Noah.” Here she hesitated, looking to Ruth for support. Ruth’s nod and firm face gave Rebecca the courage to go on. “Ruth and James are also in support of you and Noah moving forward.”
Ruth interrupted, “I see no reason that the two of you should not claim each other now. Humph, it seems to me that having you unattached in our community is more trouble in the pot. But then again, nobody asked my opinion on the matter.”
Ruth was obviously irritated, showing more emotion than I’d seen from her all day as she continued to press the tablecloth flat under her fingers until the material looked a lighter shade of blue.
I waited, not wanting to do anything that would sidetrack the women from what they wanted to say to me. S
omehow, I knew it was important.
Rebecca was the one to continue. “Marcus Bontrager, although a kind man, lacks spirit and would not stand up to Abram on any count. And...Mervin Weaver is firmly on Abram’s side in the matter.” She didn’t need to clarify the reason on that one.
Ruth showed her impatient nature by cutting to the chase. “What Rebecca is saying is that the issue of you joining our church is not up to us. You must convince Abram...and the rest of the community to allow you to do so in order for it to happen. And frankly, my dear, you need to be quick about it.”
“How do I do that?”
“You must behave yourself, Rose. I’m sure it’s hard for your young eyes to imagine looking at my aged body now, but I was once soft and vibrant like you. And in those days I could hardly keep my hands off James.” Catching my widened eyes, Ruth laughed at my expression. “But of course, I did keep my hands off him...for the most part anyhow. What I’m trying to impress on you is that Rebecca and I understand how difficult it will be for you to sit back and watch Noah from afar. But if you are good, obedient and chaste, then Abram and the rest of our people will have no choice but to allow you to join with us and thus begin your life with Noah.”
“What about Mr. Weaver—will he accept me?” my body tensed, waiting.
“Oh, it won’t matter what he wants if you get Abram on your side. Along with my James and Amos, it will be settled. The other families will follow their lead...trust me on that.”
Ruth captured my eyes. Not letting me look away, she said severely, “But if you stir things up in any way, child, that will the end of it.” Then she breathed in deeply, and I could tell she was playing with some serious thoughts in her head. “And another bit of advice you’d best heed, my dear, is to be careful around Martha Lambright.”
My face must have lit with confusion if her hasty follow-up was any indication. “Now, Rose, this is not something you need be talking about to anyone, especially the other girls. It’s just a fair warning that a pretty smile isn’t always a sincere one.”