Jethro nodded stiffly, something closely resembling a smile on his normally solemn face. “Gut.” Was that almost a twinkle in his eyes?
Hannah swallowed hard as she watched him pivot and rejoin a group of men, who along with all others in the room, were curiously observing the interaction. The expressions on the surrounding faces were intrigued. Positive. Supportive? Just as Jethro had probably anticipated when he’d fairly leaped out of his comfort zone to offer his support. The man who had the most to lose if she succeeded in keeping Gabe in town had just revitalized the project that could keep him there.
Hannah felt... She didn’t know what she felt.
She’d just asked Gott to help her love the man she would marry. Was this the beginning of His plan? She’d respected Jethro, or what she’d known of him from her minimal acquaintance, but his actions today showed her more of his qualities.
She may never feel for him the way she did about Gabe, but this solemn man certainly now had her admiration. Surely love could grow from that? Hannah had seen relationships develop into good marriages that had started with less.
Gott was answering her prayer. Showing her how to love another man. The revelation was reason to be elated. But if this was elation, why was she so close to crying?
Hannah was concentrating on blinking back threatening tears when Samuel Schrock kept her the center of attention, calling out, “Hannah, I’ll be bringing a horse to the auction. I suppose you’d rather I keep him at home until that day rather than leave him on your porch?” Her brother-in-law’s comment drew chuckles from around the room.
“Is that the one that’s blind in one eye and has three lame legs?” Someone wasted no time in teasing the local horse trader.
“Nee, Freeman Hershberger, I sold that one to you for a hefty profit.” The chuckles grew to outright laughs.
Hannah started when someone touched her on the arm. Susannah Mast, Rachel and Rebecca’s mother, smiled as she took the pitcher from Hannah’s hands. “That reminds me, I have several jars of honey and some goat milk soap I’ll be bringing to the auction. Would it be helpful if I just brought them straight in that day? I’ll be there. Especially now that I know Jethro is bringing in walnuts. Although—” raising her voice, Susannah turned toward the women still working in the kitchen “—I’ll probably have to bid against Naomi for them.”
One of the older women drying dishes responded with a nod of her head. “Ach, for certain you will. But at least I know what to do with them once I bring them home.”
“You may be right,” quipped Susannah over the corresponding giggles. “I’ve never been known for my baking. Maybe I’ll just go for one of the birdhouses.” With a hand on Hannah’s shoulder, she led her into the kitchen. While some women still hung back, watching dubiously, the pair was stopped by a procession of others, advising Hannah on what they planned to bring to the auction and asking further questions about the project.
By the time everyone had eaten and the dishes were done, Hannah had lost track of all the items being donated and the people who’d assured her they’d be at the auction. Overwhelmed by the abrupt shift of the day and needing a moment to herself during a lull, Hannah grabbed a chore jacket from a peg on the wall and slipped out the back door. Sliding her arms into the oversize sleeves, she was enveloped with the familiar scents of hay and livestock. Knowing the men would be congregating in the barn to visit, she headed instead to a side yard, her objective a picnic table beyond the clothesline that stretched over the snow-tramped ground.
Brushing the snow from the wooden seat, she sank down onto it, tucking the encompassing jacket under her. Although there’d been a few frowns and suspicious gazes, Hannah was humbled by the outpouring of support. Tipping back her head, she considered the winter blue sky overhead. This is why she loved the Plain community. This is why she needed to stay. They took care of each other. Beyond love and obedience to Gott, the bands of family, friendship and unity were the foundation of the community.
She squeezed her eyes tight against the prickle of tears. One escaped to slip down her temple into her hairline. If she married Gabe, she’d miss that. Would she eventually resent him for pulling her away? Could she adjust to their new existence? Who would be their community? Her role in the Plain world was so much a part of her identity. Hannah knew her place in it. At least, she knew who she was supposed to be in it. Who would she be without it?
Hannah’s lips trembled. She stilled them with chilled fingers.
Oh, but those happy few days with Gabe before Aaron Raber left, when the community had buzzed with gratitude that Bishop Weaver had been saved and it seemed anything was possible.
To the surprise and delight of the congregation, Bishop Weaver was in attendance today. He didn’t preach, but had remained seated in the one upholstered chair remaining in the room. She’d caught him watching her speculatively a few times. If he had an opinion on the auction, Hannah hadn’t spoken with anyone who’d heard it.
She smiled faintly. She might think one thing in regard to interactions with her future mother-in-law. But whenever she thought of her future father-in-law, she’d be thinking of the man who’d shown her how to save Bishop Weaver’s life. Noticeably absent today in expressing any support was Ruby Weaver. If Hannah had caught the bishop’s eyes on her, his wife’s gaze had seemed to burn a hole through Hannah’s kapp. She and Gabe may have saved her husband’s heart, but the action certainly hadn’t warmed his wife’s any.
Hannah tried to shrug off her dismay. She’d find a way of making a marriage with Jethro work. She had to. Still, the prospect of being daughter-in-law to Ruby Weaver filled her mouth with the taste of milk gone sour. But, she drew in a long breath, feeling the cold air as it raced through her nose, it was apparently Gott’s plan.
The soft crunching of feet on snow announced someone’s presence in the yard. Shifting on the bench, Hannah turned to see her mamm crossing the yard. Willa Lapp wore a gentle smile as she approached.
“Is this a private gathering?”
“There’s always room for you, Mamm.” Hannah brushed snow off the seat beside her.
Tucking her black cloak about her, Willa sat. “Sounds like your auction will be a success.”
“Ach, it’s not my auction. But if Gott wills it, I certainly hope so. I’ll work to make it so.” Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It seems it’s also His will that I marry Jethro.”
Willa nodded. “Jethro is a gut man.” She put her hand over where Hannah’s rested in her lap. “But what is your will?”
Hannah looked at her mamm in surprise. “My will doesn’t matter. Gelassenheit is abandoning my will in favor of following divine will, as Christ has done.”
“Ja. That is so. You will think me a poor influence today. It’s wrong to be hochmut as well, but I am so proud of the way you have obeyed throughout your life. I couldn’t have asked for a better dochder. And now, because I am your mamm and love you, I have a question for you. Does the thought of marrying Jethro make you happy?”
She apparently had her answer when Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. Willa squeezed her hand. “I rejoice and give thanks to Gott that your sister was returned to us. I rejoice more that she is happy. Have you ever wondered if marriage to Jethro is Gott’s will, or the bishop’s?”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Wouldn’t the bishop be implementing Gott’s will?”
Her mamm smiled. “We would like to think so. And sometimes it is so. But we are all still human and can be selfish in different ways.” Her smile ebbed and her eyes softened with compassion. “Large families are a blessing from Gott. Bishop Weaver and his wife have suffered many losses. Jethro is their only living child. They want to see him settled with a family of his own. Perhaps the bishop is a bit biased on what he sees as Gott’s will, in this case. According to James in the Biewel, wisdom from above is many things, including impartial.
“B
esides, sometimes Gott softly whispers his instructions instead of shouting them from the hayloft. Pray that your heart and mind are open to the subtlety of his direction. His ways are mysterious.”
Pausing, Willa sighed. “Jethro recently lost his wife and unborn child. Our faith believes it isn’t right to grieve overmuch when a loved one dies, as that is to question Gott’s will. I’m sure Jethro wants to be a gut son to his parents and do as they wish, but it might be soon for him to be thinking of marrying again. Has he given you any reason to believe he wants this match as much as his parents do?”
Thinking back over the painfully silent meals with Jethro, Hannah realized he’d never given an indication he was interested in a match between them. So why the public support of the auction today? Was it an effort to tilt her toward Gabe and away from himself? Her heart rate accelerated at the possibility.
“If I’d married the man my bishop wanted me to, I’d be in Indiana working in a nursery now. I like animals better than plants. I guess I’d rather help make the fertilizer than sell it.”
Hannah’s jaw dropped at her mamm’s admission.
“The bishop wanted me to marry his nephew. It took me prompting, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so subtly, to get Zebulun Lapp to give me a ride home from a singing before the bishop’s choice could ask me. I’ve never regretted it. The way Gott has blessed me since, if following my heart was wrong, He has more than forgiven me, He has blessed me abundantly indeed.”
“Mamm!” They shared an amused glance.
“Your daed still takes a little bit of prompting now and then. He loves you and is also proud of you, even though he isn’t one for saying it. Ja, he was surprised the other day. We were desperately worried about you. Your daed’s reaction was more his version of relief than of judgment.”
“He looked so disheartened. And when Gail left...”
Her mamm reached out to wipe tears Hannah wasn’t aware of running down her cheek. “The reason we were so upset when Abigail left is that we were worried about her surviving in the Englisch world. Not for whatever was happening to us in the community. Ja, there was gossip—” Willa raised an eyebrow “—which Gott says is a sin, as well. But not from the ones who matter to us, and there were many of those. And Gail is not you. She’s a little more...impetuous.” Willa lowered her hands to gently encase Hannah’s clenched ones. “Sometimes you think too much.”
After a light squeeze, her mamm released Hannah’s hands. “Gabriel Bartel seems like a gut man. He must be, or my dochder wouldn’t care for him so. Your daed and I will survive whatever you decide to do. And, as long as you make your choice prior to baptism, you will not truly leave us. Only members baptized into the church risk being shunned.
“Marriage is for life. I milk cows twice a day for three hundred and sixty-five days, because I like who I’m doing it with. You will sit across from your husband for breakfast and supper every day. For many years. If the face across the table isn’t dear to you, those years can be very lonely.”
They both turned their heads when a voice called her mamm’s name. Hannah’s daed stood at the yard’s white fence. “Willa, the cows are waiting on us. The older boys are staying for the singing.” Hannah inhaled sharply when he turned his attention to her. It hitched further when his normally reserved expression eased into a gentle smile. “Will you be staying, as well?”
Hannah wanted to leap from the bench and race to her daed for a hug. Although her legs tensed for activity, she remained seated, knowing the action would embarrass them both. Just his smile of acceptance was enough to know she was loved. Besides, she had much to think about. For the moment, the quiet yard seemed a good place in which to do so. Sharing her father’s smile, she gave a hesitant nod.
Pushing to her feet, Willa brushed the snow from the back of her black cloak. Zebulun Lapp opened the gate and extended a hand to help his wife over an icy patch. Hannah barely heard her daed’s words and her mamm’s reply.
“Like a singing long ago, I’ll be with the prettiest girl in the room.”
“I must’ve aged well then. I’ve progressed to the prettiest one in the barn. I think Gott will forgive me for being hochmut that I’m better looking than a herd of Holsteins.”
Watching them leave, Hannah’s heart warmed at their obvious devotion so many years into marriage. It was the relationship she’d hoped for. One she knew she could have...with Gabe. She mulled over her mamm’s words. Over the events of the afternoon. Had not Gott renewed the possibility of the fundraiser? And with it, the possibility of Gabe staying? Had not Gott had Gabe show Hannah how to do CPR, and because of that knowledge, they’d been able to save the bishop’s life? Which in turn had earned latent goodwill for Gabe in the community and displayed the need for the EMS service? And the storm, and the accident? If not for them, nothing would have changed and she’d have remained floundering in her decision, or lack thereof. What else might Gott be whispering, if she’d only listen?
Had she herself asked what path Gott wanted for her, or had she just assumed others knew best? Hannah pressed her lips together. Much was lost for want of asking. Her breathing shallow, she bowed her head.
“Gott, please help me to do Your will. Help me to be open to know what it is. Direct me to Your path forward.” Hannah stared unseeing at the snowy yard beyond her seat. Even motionless, her heart was racing and her breathing shallow. She closed her eyes. “Gott, if there is any way that Your will for me could include Gabe, please shout it from the hayloft, as I certainly don’t want to risk missing Your gentle whisper on that. Because...because that would be my choice.”
Opening her eyes with a deep exhalation, she rose from the wooden seat. Hannah paused when two men, one coming from the house, the other from the direction of the barn, stopped to talk in the middle of the farmyard. From the looks Bishop Weaver and Jethro sent her at interludes, a tight feeling in her stomach told Hannah the discussion involved her.
After a moment, Bishop Weaver turned and headed back to the house, leaving his son in the middle of the farmyard. Jethro hesitated, casting a longing look toward the field where his rig was parked, before heading for the yard gate. Shutting it behind him, he crunched through the snow to where Hannah stood.
He stopped a short distance away, his expression solemn. When he didn’t immediately speak, Hannah shifted, feeling the cold seep through her feet for the first time since she’d come out.
Jethro sighed. “Hannah. You are a f-fine woman. I know you will m-make a g-gut wife. B-but not for m-me right now.” He frowned. “It’s t-too soon after...”
Hannah held up her hand, sparing him further words as excitement grew within her. This sounded like more than a whisper. “It’s all right. I understand.”
Seeming encouraged by her response, he continued. “I understand if you are n-not available after some t-time p-passes.” A smile rose, more in his eyes than in the slight curve of his mouth. “I’ll l-look around. See if I can f-find more things f-for the auction. I think this auction w-will be successful f-for you. That it will b-bring in everything you hope.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. Was the cancelation of this relationship Gott’s endorsement for another?
Nodding, Jethro left the yard, with a lighter step than when he’d come in, but no more buoyant than Hannah’s as she dashed for the house.
She flew in the back door, her heart thumping in her chest. Hanging the borrowed coat on a nearby peg, she felt eyes on her. Turning, Hannah found Bishop Weaver in the mudroom, his frown accented by the ravages of his recent illness on his gaunt face.
“Hannah Lapp. I...”
Hannah stood tensely as the bishop studied her, her heart in her throat. Hadn’t Gott been displaying His will? And it matched hers, not the bishop’s. Hoping she wasn’t going to provoke the man into another heart attack, Hannah opened her mouth to tell him so.
Bishop Weaver spoke first. “Martha Edigers
came to talk with me in the hospital. She said it’s time for her to think about retirement. She knows our community needs a midwife. There’s not a large population of Mennonites in the area, but they’ve always gotten on well with Plain folks. But none of her people are interested.” His gaze pinned Hannah as he frowned. “She said you have the touch. She said if you wanted to apprentice with her, she would work with you to become certified.” His brows lowered as if Hannah had challenged him. “You do understand that something else might need to be arranged while you have young children.”
Hannah held her breath as she waited for his next words. Surely Gott was raising His voice to the barn rafters? If she was allowed, no, instructed to take more training for the community, a rarity for an Amish woman, perhaps she wasn’t to stay in the church?
The bishop swallowed, his rawboned throat bobbing. “I have some hens that haven’t been laying well. No sense in feeding them if they’re not earning their keep. They’d make gut fryers for someone. I will have them there for the auction. I...I hope it’s a success and...and will get you what you want. It’s...it’s gut to have such fast medical care in the district.”
Bishop Weaver’s unblinking eyes, huge in his thin face, studied Hannah. “Will you be staying in the community with this Mennonite man?”
Hannah’s heart was pounding. “If he’ll have me.” Her palms sweating, she straightened her shoulders and met his intent gaze.
“All right then. I will inform Mrs. Edigers that you will be contacting her about the apprenticeship.”
* * *
Grabbing her cloak and bonnet, Hannah nodded hastily to those remaining in the house as she hurried outside. She skidded to a halt at the end of the sidewalk. Her parents had left, and she had no transportation. But she had brothers and a brother-in-law in the barn who did. She started picking her way over the frozen rutted ground of the farmyard.
Her Forbidden Amish Love Page 17