“No problem,” Leah said, her teeth chattering. “I’m glad you told me.”
Ethan slid open the glass door and a blast of heated, smoky air rushed out at them. Leah wasn’t sure what was worse—freezing on the balcony or suffocating in the apartment. She stepped inside and immediately saw Jonah. He was leaning against a wall, smoking, holding a beer can and watching the dancing couples with brooding, heavy-lidded eyes.
When he caught sight of Ethan and Leah, he shoved away from the wall and sauntered over. “Hello, Leah,” he said without warmth.
“Back to you,” she said with more cheeriness than she felt.
“I’ll get us sodas,” Ethan said, and made his way toward the kitchen.
Alone with Jonah, Leah wasn’t sure what to say. Jonah had never been happy about her friendship with Ethan. “Looks like this is the place to come for Amish or English,” she said, trying to sound friendly.
Jonah shrugged. “My friends know they can come here whenever they like.”
“And do whatever they want?”
“Yes, until the police show up. Or until the elders ban everyone from being friends with me.” He sounded bitter.
“I went to see Charity yesterday,” Leah said, offering the name like bait. She watched Jonah’s expression harden.
“She is a silly girl—not person enough to think for herself.”
“She’s lonely and confused,” Leah corrected. “And for reasons I can’t begin to figure out, she cares about you.”
Jonah took a long swig of his beer. “Well, I no longer care for her.”
“Too bad. She misses you.”
Jonah turned and brought his face close to Leah’s. “Do not involve yourself, English. You do not know what it means to be separate.”
“Separate” was how the Amish referred to themselves. They kept themselves separated from the rest of the world, following the Bible’s mandate to be in the world but not of the world. Leah felt a surge of anger because Jonah had no idea where she was coming from. If he thought Amishness made a person separate, he should try having cancer. Now, that was separation. Leah squared her jaw. “You don’t look very separate to me, Jonah. You look just like some kids I used to know in Dallas. All they did was drink and party, too. What’s so separate about that?”
Jonah straightened. “If you do not like my party, Leah, then leave.” He jiggled his beer can. “Empty.” He crushed it in his fist. “I need a refill.”
Leah watched him swagger away and felt pity for him. Jonah was caught between two ways of life. He had a foot in both, but he seemed stuck, unable to make up his mind where he wanted to stand. It scared her that Ethan might get caught in the same web of confusion.
As the week dwindled, Leah and Ethan became inseparable. Kathy’s mother even invited him for dinner one night, and later Leah heard Kathy’s mother tell Kathy, “What a nice boy. You should date a boy like him.”
Leah heard Kathy say, “He’s Amish, Mother. How many of them mingle with us in the first place?”
“Amish! I’ll bet his parents are fit to be tied.”
“Leah knows what she’s doing,” Kathy said. “She’s not an idiot.”
Leah was glad that Kathy had defended her, but she wasn’t so sure about Kathy’s conclusion. Maybe she was an idiot. Loving Ethan was risky. What could really ever become of it? And now that he’d asked her to help locate Eli, she felt a greater turmoil. She didn’t want to let him down.
The thought of returning to school, to boring classes, was even less appealing. She could not get Neil’s or her own health problems off her mind. What if Neil had a relapse? What if she had one? How could her mother handle both of them being sick? How could Leah turn to Ethan for support when he was hundreds of miles away? And if he lived with Jonah, would he turn into a Jonah clone? Leah could hardly stand to think about any of it.
Ethan took Leah to their favorite pizza parlor after they’d spent the afternoon ice skating. The parlor had Happy New Year banners hanging along the walls, reminding Leah that she had only two days left before she’d have to return home. She thought of Neil and her mother on their way to Detroit for the upcoming round of holiday parties with Neil’s old friends.
She and Ethan both were in low moods as they nibbled halfheartedly on the food. “I don’t want you to leave,” Ethan said.
“And I don’t want to leave,” Leah confessed.
“Then don’t.”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “Where would I stay? In my car?”
He stared morosely out the window. “What can we do, Leah?”
Suddenly she sat up straighter. Like a bolt of lightning, an idea struck her. “You know what, Ethan? I just had the craziest idea. I can’t stay here, but you can come home with me. Why don’t you?”
NINE
Ethan asked, “Go home with you? What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Why should you stay here? You told me you wanted to get a job. Why not get one where I live? A job’s a job.” Leah’s excitement mounted as she tossed out possibilities.
“Where would I live?”
“With me—us,” she corrected. “Me, Mom and Neil. The house is huge. Why, there’s a whole other house in the basement—bedroom, bath, family room. We never even go down there. Mom hates basements.” Leah waved her hand dismissively. “We have the space, and you could live in it.”
“My father would not allow—”
“You’re eighteen, aren’t you?” Leah interrupted him. He’d had his eighteenth birthday in October. “When you’re eighteen, you don’t need your father’s permission. You can just leave.”
“That is what Eli did.” Ethan looked concerned. “It hurt Pa deeply.”
“And that’s another thing. If you want to find Eli, it will be easier if we look for him together. No telling where he is or how hard it’s going to be to find him. But this way you can get the information more quickly because you’ll be right there when Neil gets it. You won’t lose days waiting for my letters.”
Leah could tell that Ethan was pondering her suggestion. Having him close by her again was just what she’d dreamed about all these long months.
“What will your mother say?” Ethan asked.
Leah knew it would be a tough sell, but if Ethan was already there, it would be harder for her mother and Neil to say no. “Look, Ethan, let me worry about my family.”
“I don’t know, Leah.” His brow puckered.
She suddenly remembered Neil’s barn full of antique autos. Perhaps Ethan could help Neil maintain them. “Neil can’t handle even simple chores around the house anymore. Maybe you could help out. There’s lots of stuff for you to do.”
Ethan nodded slowly. “Yes. I would have to help somehow.”
“I’ll be in school all day. And once you get a job, you’ll be working, so it’s not like we’d be in each other’s way or anything. We’ll be apart but still together.” Leah shot him a broad smile.
“And if we cannot find Eli?”
“Don’t give up before we even start,” Leah chided.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, hooking his hands behind his head. He stared out the window for a long time. Leah’s heart thudded. She knew he did nothing in haste. But the more she considered her plan, the more sense it made. They could search for Eli without the frustration of distance between them. And she could have Ethan in her world. She had lived among the Amish. Now it was Ethan’s turn to live among the English.
“When would we leave?” Ethan asked quietly.
Leah licked her dry lips. “The sooner, the better, I think. I have to start school the day after New Year’s, and you need to get settled in. You know, adjusted.” She didn’t add that she really wanted to get home before her mom and Neil returned from Detroit. If Ethan was already moved in by the time they returned, it would be harder to throw him out. It was urgent that she get to her mother first thing, before she had time to blow a fuse.
“I want to go with you, Leah.”
Et
han’s simple acceptance startled her. She had expected more resistance. “Well. Okay then. You’ll drive home with me. If we leave tomorrow, we can spend New Year’s Eve at the house. We can watch the ball drop on TV.”
He looked puzzled. “What ball?”
While she was growing up, Leah had sometimes stayed up until midnight to watch the Times Square crowds in New York welcome in the New Year. Of course, Ethan didn’t know about the yearly ritual. “I’ll tell you about it on the drive home.”
Ethan stood. “Come.”
“Where to?”
“To go tell my parents.”
Leah felt a jolt as reality hit. “Ethan, I don’t know if you should tell them.”
“I cannot just sneak away.”
“But they may get angry and try to stop you. Maybe you could just write them after you get home with me.”
“I cannot. I must tell them to their faces. And you must go with me.”
She swallowed hard. “I could wait in the car. Keep the motor running.”
He gave her a little smile. “No, Leah. You must be by my side. And you must tell them of your offer of a place to stay.”
“But not about Eli?”
“No. That will be our secret.”
Nervously Leah stood. “Are you sure you want to go tell them right now?”
“They are together tonight. It is best to go now.”
With her heart thudding like thunder in her ears, Leah followed Ethan out into the cold, dark night.
Leah fought an intense internal battle as she and Ethan drove out to the farm. Now that she was about to get her way, she was scared. Was she being selfish? Would Tillie hate her? She’d come into Ethan’s tidy little world and turned it on its edge. She was English, everything the Amish held in low regard. Now she was luring Ethan away from his family and the only way of life he’d known.
By the time they arrived at the farmhouse, Leah felt sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t turn back now. She’d made Ethan promises, and she had to keep them.
They found his parents alone in their kitchen beside the woodstove. Jacob Longacre had the big German Bible open on his lap, and Tillie was sitting in an old rocker doing cross-stitch by the light of an oil lamp. Startled by Ethan and Leah’s appearance, Jacob asked, “Has something happened?”
“Nothing bad, Pa,” Ethan said. He glanced around the shadowed room. “Where are the others?”
“Oma and Opa have retired. The children are visiting Sarah,” Tillie answered.
Leah held on to the edge of the countertop, certain her knees would give way if she didn’t. She saw Jacob scrutinize his son and realized that Ethan was dressed English.
Without preamble, Ethan announced to his parents, “I have decided to go away.”
The room was silent except for the wood crackling in the stove.
“Where will you go?” asked his father.
“Leah has asked me to her place. I am going.”
Leah expected an explosion of temper, but she was surprised. Mr. Longacre simply studied his son with resigned, contemplative eyes.
“Neil and my mother will take good care of him,” Leah offered in a breathy voice.
“And who will care for his soul, Leah?” Mr. Longacre leveled a blue-eyed gaze at her.
“We’re not heathens, you know. He’ll be all right with us.”
“Do you know for how long you will be gone?” Jacob asked, ignoring her outburst.
“I cannot say.”
Jacob stood, folded his reading glasses, closed the Bible and placed it under his arm. “Do what you must do, Ethan. I cannot stop you.”
“As for my work”—Ethan gestured to his surroundings—“Simeon is young and strong. He is good help. Do not let Opa work too hard.”
Mr. Longacre nodded. “We will manage.”
“I love you, Papa.” Ethan’s voice was firm.
Jacob sighed deeply. Wearily he walked over to stand in front of Ethan. Leah was close enough to see that his eyes glistened with tears. His hands were big, work-worn, covered with calluses. A lump of emotion clogged her throat.
Jacob placed his free hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “And I love you, Ethan. Be careful among the English.”
Jacob turned and left the room. Ethan followed his father with his gaze.
Tillie rose from her chair and set her sewing on the counter. Leah remembered summer days when they canned fruit and vegetables together, of a kitchen alive with laughter and women’s voices. She saw Rebekah’s sweet face reflected in Tillie’s features.
Ethan reached for his mother’s hand. “I will be fine, Ma.”
She came closer, touched his cheek lovingly. “You are a man, my son. You must make your own way in the world. But do not forget your youth and all that we have taught you.”
“I will not forget.”
“Remember the words of our Lord,” she said. “ ‘You are the salt of the earth, but if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.’ ” Tillie smiled wistfully. “It is God who calls each man whom he wants for his own. You must know if you, Ethan Longacre, have been called by God to be separate.”
Tillie turned to look into Leah’s eyes. “You were touched by an angel, Leah. You were blessed. But my Ethan must search his heart and discover what it is that God requires of him. Do you understand?”
Leah nodded, unable to speak.
“I will not be cut off from you, Ma,” Ethan said. “I will not allow us to become strangers.”
Leah heard his words as a veiled reference to Eli. She thought it extraordinary that even now, neither could speak the name aloud.
“I will always hold you in my heart,” his mother said. “Just as I hold all my children there.”
“I love you, Ma.”
She cupped Ethan’s chin. “You are my beloved son. I have lost two of my children already. I do not want to lose another.”
“Ma.” The word sounded strangled in Ethan’s throat.
“Take good care of yourself, Ethan.” Tillie picked up the oil lamp. It lit her face with an ethereal light. The ties of her prayer cap trailed to her shoulders. In her dark Amish dress, with only the lamp’s light on her face, she reminded Leah of a dark ghost.
For a trembling minute, Leah thought Ethan was going to turn and tell her to go away without him, but slowly he squared his shoulders. “I must get some things from my room.”
“Of course.” Tillie stepped aside. Ethan bolted out of the kitchen.
Left alone with Ethan’s mother, Leah almost fell apart. “I’ll watch after him,” she whispered hoarsely. “I promise.”
“I know you will, Leah, for I know you love him too.”
Leah nodded mutely, stunned by this serene woman’s ability to calmly embrace whatever adversity life gave her. So unlike my mother, Leah thought.
In minutes Ethan was back, a homespun sack over his shoulder. “Tell Simeon and Charity and Elizabeth I am sorry I did not get to see them. Tell them I will write to them.”
“I will tell them.”
He took Leah’s elbow and started toward the back door.
“Son,” Tillie called. They turned and she held up the lamp. “Each night you are gone, I will set this in the window of your room. It will burn for you, a light to show you the way back home if you want to come.”
Ethan nodded and led Leah into the night.
In the car, Leah laid her head against the headrest and allowed the bottled-up tears to flow unchecked.
TEN
Early the next morning, Leah told Kathy’s family she was leaving for home. She had the perfect excuse. Bad weather had been forecast, and she thought it best to beat it home before New Year’s Eve. She thanked them for allowing her to stay and gave them the small gifts she’d bought for them. She hugged Kathy goodbye, then drove straight to Jonah’s, where Ethan was waiting for her.
“Is that all you’re going to take?” Leah asked in
credulously.
All Ethan held was a small duffel bag, a battered suitcase, and the sack he’d carried from home the night before.
“It is all I own,” Ethan told her. “Too many possessions make a person prideful. And material things are not what is important in life.”
“Wait till you meet my mother,” Leah said, half under her breath. Leah’s mother was a collector of beautiful things—clothes, furniture, jewelry.
Ethan tossed his belongings into the car and got in. He looked tired. Leah felt sorry for him. Ethan was leaving behind him all he had ever known. It was a huge step. But she was excited, too. Ethan was coming home with her. They could be together whenever they wanted.
Ethan did not sleep during the trip but stared broodingly out the window as the miles slipped away. Icy cold rain fell in globs, smacking the windshield with squishy sounds, slowing them down and making the trip twice as long as usual.
By the time Leah turned into the long driveway leading to her house, it was dark and the sleet had turned into heavy, wet snow. She pulled into the garage and exhaled with relief. “Let me turn off the security alarm.” She quickly punched in the code and led Ethan inside the house. “Wow, it’s cold in here.”
Ethan followed her tentatively. She flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. “Oh no! The electricity’s out.”
“Really,” Ethan said. “How will we manage?”
The silliness of the problem made Leah giggle. The Amish didn’t use electricity. “Okay, I get your point. But with no electricity, there’s no heat.” Without power, Leah felt marooned. Outside, the winds had picked up. Driving snow pelted the house. “This blizzard could last a while,” she said.
“Would that be so terrible?”
“I guess not.” Her mother and Neil wouldn’t be home until late on New Year’s Day—or later, if the roads became impassable. Still, they wouldn’t be worried about her because they thought she was at Kathy’s. Two days alone with Ethan. Leah was certain she could handle it.