Читать книгу An Amish Courtship - Jan Drexler - Страница 13

Chapter Four

The narrow seat on the buggy provided no opportunity for Mary to put any distance between her elbow and Samuel’s. She finally gave up, resigning herself to the occasional bumps in the road that jostled her against his warm, strong arm. His muscles were tense as he handled the reins, so maybe he didn’t notice when they made contact.

Sadie kept the conversation going with news about the neighbors as they made their way south.

“There’s the Miller farm,” she said as they passed a lovely shaded farmyard. Flowers lined the edge of the garden and some children were busy picking strawberries from the field next to the house. “They’re Mennonite, and good neighbors.” She went on without a pause. “And up ahead is the Jefferson place. They’re Englischers and their family has lived here as long as ours.” Sadie laid her hand on Mary’s arm as she turned toward her. “My daed never understood Thomas Jefferson. Ach, ja, that was his name. No relation to the famous president, though. The man was a go-getter, never leaving things be. Now his son, Phillip, has the farm. You won’t believe the bee he has in his hat.”

Sadie fell silent and Mary exchanged glances with Samuel.

He grinned. “You’re talking about the road paving he wants the county to do?”

Sadie nodded and set off again. “That’s right! Pavement in the country! What trotting along on that hard surface will do to our poor horses, I don’t know.” She huffed as she settled back in her seat. “He just wants a smooth road for his fancy automobile, and wants the county to pay for it.”

Samuel chirruped to the horse. “He says it will keep the dust down.” His words were mild, but Mary could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to keep from laughing.

Sadie crossed her arms. “There’s nothing wrong with a little dust.”

Samuel kept his voice calm, not letting the laughter emerge. “You just don’t like to see progress.”

“Of course not. Progress without wisdom isn’t good for anyone. People like Phillip Jefferson can’t see past the end of their own noses, and he has no thought of what unintended consequences this road of his might bring.” Sadie sat up, her attention on the next farm. “There’s the Zook farm. Good Amish folks, and now we’re in Eden Township.”

“Is that Levi Zook? I met him at a barn raising last summer,” Samuel said.

Sadie shook her head. “Ne, his cousin, Caleb. Levi lives a few miles east of here.” She leaned forward. “Matthew Beachey’s place is just past this crossroad. Up there on the right.”

Mary felt Samuel’s body stiffen at Sadie’s words. What must it be like for him to see Annie again after so long?

The other girls had been visiting in the back seat, but when Sadie pointed out their destination, Esther and Judith leaned forward to get a look.

“What a pretty place,” Judith said.

“Look at all of the flowers. Annie always said gladiolus was her favorite, and she has planted a whole row of them.”

Esther’s voice sounded strained and Mary turned around as well as she could.

“Are you all right, Esther?”

She nodded. “I’m just so happy to see Annie again.” She pointed, her arm extending between Mary and Sadie. “Look, there she is! Samuel, stop the buggy so we can get out.”

“You can wait until I turn in the drive.” Samuel’s voice held a growl. His face was tense as he drove the horse toward Annie, who was waiting for them next to the gravel lane.

When he drew the buggy to a stop, Judith and Esther jumped out and into Annie’s arms. The three sisters held each other close, none of them saying a word, until Annie pushed away from the embrace to look at the girls.

“You’ve both changed so much!” Annie’s happy smile made Mary want to smile back.

As the girls launched into the story of everything that had happened since they had last been together, Annie looked toward the buggy, then back at her sisters. Samuel remained in his seat, watching the girls, but making no move to get out.

Sadie reached across Mary to poke his arm. “Samuel, it’s time for you to say hello to Annie.”

Samuel swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ja.” He sighed and secured the reins, but he didn’t make a move to get out of the buggy.

Mary laid her hand on his arm. There must be some way she could help. The poor man looked like he was about to meet his doom.

“She’s waiting for you.”

Samuel looked past Mary and Sadie. Annie had glanced his way again, and had pulled her lower lip in between her teeth.

“Go on,” Mary said. She pushed at his arm. “It’s time.”

His eyes met hers then, pleading with them as one of her younger brothers would do, but he climbed down from the buggy. Mary followed him and helped Sadie to the ground as she watched him greet his sister.

“Hello, Annie.”

He stood back, but his sister reached toward him and grasped his hand.

“I’m so glad you came.” Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I’ve missed you. All of you.”

Sadie pulled on Mary’s arm, and she led the way into the house with Ida Mae following.

“We’ll let the four of them get acquainted again without us interfering.”

Other buggies had already arrived, and as Mary stepped onto the porch, she could hear the hum of voices from inside the house. She swallowed down the thickness in her throat at the thought of all the strangers on the other side of that door, but she didn’t have time to be nervous as Sadie walked in. They laid their bonnets with the others on a bed in the room off the kitchen, then followed the sound of women visiting.

The front room was filled with a quilt on a frame, and ten or twelve women sat around it, needles in their hands and all talking at once. Sadie led Ida Mae to three empty chairs on the far side of the quilt, stopping to greet the women they passed on the way.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.” She grasped an older woman’s shoulder. “These are my nieces from Ohio, Mary and Ida Mae.” She went on to the next woman, a younger image of the first one. “And Ellie, I’m so glad you’re here. Meet my nieces.”

Mary had hardly had a chance to greet Elizabeth when she met Ellie’s blue eyes. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Ellie Lapp.”

“Lapp? Are you related to Esther and Judith?”

“Ja, for sure.” Ellie’s smile was relaxed and welcoming. “Their brother Bram is my husband, but I’ve never met the girls.” She stuck her needle in the quilt and half rose from her seat. “Did they come with you? Are they outside?”

“They’re talking with Annie. Samuel is there, too.”

Ellie sat back in her chair. “Samuel came?”

“He said he had some business here in Eden Township, so he drove us down here this morning.”

A little boy, about two years old, crawled out from under the quilting frame and pulled on Ellie’s skirt. “Memmie, I’m thirsty.”

Ellie cupped his head in her hand, a worried frown on her face. “Ja, Danny. We’ll go to the kitchen and get a drink.” She smiled at Mary, her brows still knit. “I’m so glad to meet you, Mary, and I hope we’ll be able to get to know each other better.”

She took the little boy by the hand and led him into the kitchen as Mary made her way to the chair next to Sadie and Ida Mae. For the first time, she wondered what business Samuel had in Eden Township. Whatever it was, it had Ellie worried.

* * *

Samuel let Tilly choose her own pace as he set off down the road toward Bram’s farm. Annie’s welcome had bolstered his courage enough to ask for directions to their brother’s home, but when he saw Bram’s wife peering at them through Annie’s kitchen window, doubts began to crowd in again.

Meeting Bram wouldn’t be as easy as seeing Annie again. His sister had always been quick to forgive and easy to talk to. Bram had never been easy to deal with.

Samuel stopped at a crossroad. Annie had said he would turn right after he passed over the creek, and he could see the wandering line of trees and bushes that marked the creek’s progress through the fields ahead. Only one more mile before he turned onto Bram’s road. When he clucked to Tilly, she shook her head and started off at a brisk trot.

He and Bram had never enjoyed the kind of brotherly love he saw in other families. Daed had pushed at them, and Samuel could hear his voice now. “Bram can do it. Why can’t you?”

And then Bram would look at him with his superior, big-brother look that would spike Samuel’s temper.

Whether it was pitching hay down from the loft or hauling buckets of slop for the hogs, Bram had always done it better, faster, easier.

Even after Bram had abandoned the family, Daed had kept goading at Samuel, pushing him to be the man Bram was.

But he wasn’t Bram. He didn’t leave. He had stayed and absorbed the brunt of Daed’s anger right until the end.

Samuel fingered the reins. Why hadn’t he left? He could have followed Bram, but he shied away from the accusing voice in his head that said he had been too cowardly to strike out on his own. His eyes stung and he rubbed at them. He wasn’t a coward. He was the good son. The one who had stayed home. But Mamm had still died.

Tilly trotted across the culvert over the stream and the next crossroad was in sight. A quarter mile west, Annie had said. His stomach churned with something. Anger? Resentment? Or was he only nervous?

Samuel pulled Tilly to a stop at the corner. He didn’t have to turn. He could continue down this road, find a spot to rest until it was time to pick up the girls again and face Bram another day.

But he was done with putting things off. That’s the way Daed would have handled this. He would have ignored Bram, pretended he didn’t exist to punish him for taking off to Chicago all those years ago. If he was going to come out from his daed’s shadow, he needed to face Bram.

Make amends.

He turned the corner and headed west, keeping Tilly’s pace to a slow trot, even though she shook her head in protest. Samuel kept the reins tight, holding her in. He wanted time.

The farm was on the left after he crossed another little creek. A Dawdi Haus nestled in the grass near the creek, with a flower garden in the front. The main house stood on a rise near it, and a white barn sat at the back of the lane. A field next to the lane was planted with corn, and the stalks stood nearly a foot high. A team of four matching Belgian horses grazed in the pasture beyond the barn.

Samuel pulled Tilly to a halt in the road. The horses in the pasture meant that Bram was at home, not out in the fields. He fought the urge to keep driving down the road and turned Tilly into the lane. Someone had seen him coming. An old man watched him from the porch of the Dawdi Haus, but Samuel followed the sound of metal hammering on metal that rang from the barn.

He halted Tilly near the barn door and climbed out of the buggy. The ringing continued. He tied the horse to the rail alongside the barn. No break in the rhythmic hammering from inside.

Looking around, Samuel spied the old man, who had walked up to the main house and stood on the front porch. He lifted his hand in a wave and Samuel returned the gesture. There was no alternative now except to face Bram. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he walked into the barn.

Just inside the door, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Bram was at the end of the main bay, working on a plow, his back to the door. A boy stood next to him. The seven-year-old held his hands over his ears to block out the noise, but leaned as close to Bram as he could, fascinated by the work.

Bram stopped hammering and bent down to inspect his work. “You see here, Johnny,” he said as he pointed, “that was the piece that had come loose. But now it’s fastened in good and tight and should work fine.”

Samuel walked toward them and the boy saw him.

“Daed, someone’s here.”

Bram straightened and turned, a welcoming smile on his face until he saw who it was.

“Samuel.” His voice held a note of surprise.

“Hello, Bram.”

Bram pulled off his gloves and laid one hand on the boy’s shoulder without taking his gaze away from Samuel. “Johnny, we’re done here. Why don’t you go see if your grossdawdi needs any help?”

Johnny ran out the back door of the barn and Bram stepped closer.

“I didn’t expect to see you.”

Samuel tried to smile. “Annie told me where you live.”

“You’ve been to Annie’s?”

“I brought Judith and Esther to her house for the quilting this morning, and I thought I’d stop and see how you were doing.”

Bram stared at him. “If I remember right, when I stopped by the farm last year you told me that I didn’t belong there, and you didn’t want to see me again.”

Samuel took a step back. Ja, for sure, he remembered that day. Bram had been all slicked up in a gabardine suit. An Englischer through and through.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to stay.”

Bram stepped closer. “You didn’t even let me go to the house to see the girls.”

Samuel looked him in the eyes. “You weren’t our brother anymore. You were some fancy Englischer. How did I know what you wanted from us?”

His brother looked down. “You were probably right.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was hoping to hide out at home, but when you sent me on my way, I had to make other plans.” He smiled then, looking at Samuel again. “I should probably thank you for that. If you hadn’t forced me to move on to Annie and Matthew’s, I would never have met Ellie.”

“But the last time we spoke, at the barn raising, you threatened me.”

“Ja, well, I did, didn’t I? You must understand, there were some dangerous men around and I didn’t want you to get mixed up with them. I was hoping to scare you off.”

Samuel felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “More dangerous than you?”

Bram’s mouth widened in a wry grin. “Dangerous enough. But that’s in the past. My life is different now. Better. Much better.”

Samuel nodded, looking around at the neat, clean barn. “Life has been good to you.”

“God has been good to me.” Bram grabbed Samuel’s shoulder and squeezed it. “What about you? How are things going for you?”

Samuel scratched at his chin, missing the whiskers. “Not as good.”

“When I stopped by last year, it looked like the farm was doing all right.”

He shrugged. “As well as when Daed ran it. The hogs sell, and that brings in cash when we need it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Mamm died. How did Daed take it?”

“You don’t know how she died? Annie didn’t tell you?”

Bram shot him a look. “What do you mean?”

“Daed was drunk. He and Mamm were arguing.” Samuel shut his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the shouts, Mamm’s cries. “She fell down the stairs and died three days later.”

“Annie never told me any of this.” Bram ran his hand over his face. “What do you think happened?”

“You know what Daed was like when he lost his temper.”

Bram nodded. “Especially when he was drunk.” He paused and their eyes met. “Do you think that had anything to do with the accident?”

Samuel shook his head. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t an accident. I’ve gone over it in my head again and again. All I know is if he hadn’t been drinking, he wouldn’t have been fighting with her. But he drank all the time back then.”

They stood in silence as Samuel relived the memories again, and felt the release of having someone to share his suspicions with. Whether or not Daed had shoved Mamm, causing her fall, or if she lost her balance, he would never know. He had never told anyone about what he had witnessed that day.

Finally, Bram sighed. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I left home because I couldn’t take Daed and his temper anymore, but I left you alone with him. I shouldn’t have done that. We should have faced him together.”

Samuel shrugged. “You know Daed. He kept us working against each other so that we wouldn’t work against him.” Samuel stared at the barn floor as he realized just how strong their father’s influence had been. “We were never friends, were we?”

Bram shook his head. “Daed always picked at me, asking me why I couldn’t be more like you. He always did like you the best, you know.”

Samuel stared. “What do you mean? He always told me that I should be more like you.”

Bram stared back at him, then his laugh came out as a short bark. “That old rascal.”

“It isn’t funny. I’ve spent my life hating you.”

“Same here.” One corner of Bram’s mouth still held a grin. “Ach, then, what do we do about it now?”

Samuel’s thoughts whirled. What did he want? Could he be friends with this man when so many painful memories crowded in?

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure we can ever be brothers.”

Bram had bent his head down, and now looked at him from under the brim of his hat. “Could we be friends?”

Samuel shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s start with a truce, and then go on from there.”

Bram stuck his hand out and Samuel looked at it. Calloused, strong, tanned by the sun. The mirror image of his own as he slowly took the offered hand. Bram’s grip was sure. Firm. Samuel tightened his fingers and Bram’s grip grew firmer. Samuel felt a grin starting as he met Bram’s eyes.

“Truce.”

* * *

Mary sat at the kitchen table while Ida Mae helped Sadie get ready for bed. They had quickly discovered that Sadie became confused easily at night, and more than once had gone to bed with her dress still on, or neglecting a final trip to the outhouse, so the two of them took turns keeping Sadie focused on her bedtime routine until she was finally settled and asleep.

But only half of Mary’s mind was on Sadie and Ida Mae. She drummed her fingers on the table, echoing the rolling thunder of an approaching storm. The rain would be welcome, if they got any. Last year’s drought was one for the history books, Daed had said often enough. But the thunder was outdone by the rising bubble of guilt that pricked at her conscience.

After the quilting today, Annie had sent some jars of canned asparagus and a loaf of bread home with Sadie. Mary hadn’t thought much about it until this evening. While she had been washing up after supper, she had realized that Sadie’s cellar was full of canned goods, and the kitchen cupboards held sacks of flour. Even baking powder and cinnamon. All items that were hard to come by at home.

The entire community was supporting Sadie, not only here in Shipshewana but even folks in Eden Township. They made sure she had enough food in her cupboards and plenty of staples to keep her comfortable. Even Samuel helped with her chores.

Ida Mae came into the kitchen, stifling a yawn. “It’s been a long day, and I’m going to go to bed.”

“Sit down for a minute, first.” Mary used her foot to push a chair out from the table. “We need to talk.”

Her sister yawned again, but sat down. “What about?”

“You know people give food and other things to Sadie. And the Yoders across the road bring a gallon of milk every day.”

“Of course they do. Our church at home does the same for older people and others who can’t work for themselves.”

Mary nodded. “And that is the right thing to do, except that we’re here now. Have you noticed that the Yoders used to send a quart of milk for Sadie, but now it’s a gallon? Everyone has sent more food for Sadie since we came. They aren’t only making sure Sadie has enough, but they’re sending extra for us.”

Ida Mae lifted an eyebrow.

“We can and should work for ourselves, and support Sadie, too. We should be helping to support the community, not taking aid that another family might need more than we do.”