She glanced in the mirror, wanting to look nice. We haven’t been alone with each other in quite a while. . . .
Then, stepping out of her room, she made her way down the hall. Just as she was turning toward the staircase, Mamma peeked her head out of her bedroom. “You goin’ out?”
“Jah, Titus is here.”
“Well, have a nice time,” Mamma said. “Maybe take along an umbrella, though. Dat says a storm’s comin’.”
“Oh, we won’t be out riding.” Sylvia headed down the stairs, thinking it kind of Mamma to wish her well.
At the bottom, she noticed Adeline’s door opening, and when she appeared, she looked concerned. “I heard a guy outside talking to you,” Adeline said with a tilt of her head.
“Jah, my fiancé, Titus Kauffman.”
Adeline nodded slowly, her eyes meeting Sylvia’s. “Are you seeing each other secretly? Why didn’t he just come to the door?”
Sylvia had to smile. “It’s tradition for an Amish fella to toss pebbles at his girl’s window to get her attention. Titus prob’ly doesn’t need to do that since we’re engaged, but so far only our parents and friends know.” She quickly explained that the rest of the community would officially learn the news two weeks before their November wedding day. “That’s when my father will announce it at the end of the Preaching service, to invite everyone.”
“I guess it could be nice to know exactly when and how to tell people,” Adeline said, as though trying to understand. “Well, I should let you go.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave.
As Sylvia hurried through the kitchen and into the hallway leading to the back door, it occurred to her that Adeline could sometimes be rather nosy.
Lightning flickered all around them as Sylvia ran with Titus to the shelter of the barn. The temperature was dropping quickly, and Sylvia knew that Adeline would be relieved at the cooler weather. One lightning strike seemed to take direct aim as they worked together to slide open the heavy barn door, and once safely inside, Titus quickly pulled it shut.
Rain began to pelt the barn roof as they climbed the ladder to the hayloft, still warm from the day and just light enough for Sylvia to see Titus’s face. The sweet, subtle scent of hay filled the area as they each found a seat on a square bale of hay.
“This rain’s a blessing,” Titus said as he removed his straw hat and shook it off, even though no moisture had fallen on them. His light brown hair looked freshly shampooed.
“Jah, farmers will be thankful,” she said, wondering more than ever why he had wanted to see her on such short notice.
Titus’s hazel eyes turned serious now. “I hope ya know how much I’ve missed seein’ you, Sylvie.”
She smiled. “I missed ya, too.”
He reached for her hand. “Ain’t so gut for us to be apart too long, jah?” he said, looking ever so thoughtful.
She nodded, glad to have this time with him in the privacy of the hayloft, where the wonderful smell of rain came in the open window.
Titus placed his straw hat between his knees. “As ya know, I saw you this mornin’ with the fancy young woman who’s visiting here. My father says she’s your half sister.”
Sylvia tensed and let go of his hand.
He cleared his throat. “I had no idea ’bout her. Just wonderin’ what this means. . . . Are there more surprises to come, Sylvie?”
She sighed. “I know what ya mean, but none of us knew ’bout Adeline, let alone expected her to show up here,” she said right out. “I’m doin’ my best to show her kindness, considerin’. She had no idea what she would find when she came searching for her father.”
For several seconds, Titus looked at her as though uncertain what to say. Then he went on, “I’m just concerned, coming so soon after your father’s shunning and all.”
So this is why he came.
A frown flickered across his brow. “You surely understand what I’m getting at.”
“Jah, you’re worried how all this looks to others. . . .”
He suggested that her acquaintance with Adeline could become close as time went by, exposing Sylvia to a worldly perspective that he and his family wouldn’t be comfortable with.
Ach, Sylvia thought. He’s already done a lot of thinking. Clenching her jaw, she said, “Just to be clear, I’m not close to Adeline. And she doesn’t mean to stir things up—she’s only here to get acquainted with Dat.” She paused. “Can ya think how you’d feel if you hadn’t known your father, and then suddenly, you found out who he was? Wouldn’t you want to get to know him, to spend time with him?” It stunned her that she was defending Adeline and the young woman’s time there.
Titus glanced down at his hat. “I hear what you’re sayin’, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s an Englischer. Even my Mamm was worried.”
Sylvie could hear the horses stomping in their stalls in the adjoining stable, one of them neighing loudly. She recalled how Titus’s mother, Eva, had made earlier demands on where she and Titus were going to stay the first weeks after the wedding and whatnot. And Sylvia suspected that Titus’s parents might be behind some of what Titus was saying just now.
Titus’s eyes searched hers. “I’m caught between wanting to go ahead with our plans to marry and my concerns for what might come next. After all, I have to consider my family, too, what with Dat bein’ an ordained minister. But it’s an awful spot to be in.”
At the mention of his father, Sylvia remembered the times she had been so impressed by Preacher Kauffman and his sermons—not necessarily idolizing him, but always looking up to him. If what she suspected was true, she no longer knew how to think of him, or of vivacious Eva, who had been so welcoming to Sylvia on the day Titus proposed beside the beautiful pond on their property. The most perfect day . . .
In that moment, Sylvia wanted Titus to long for her and to stand by what he’d lovingly declared months ago—that nothing would ever come between them. Most of all, she wanted him to trust her. But sadly, it was obvious he was waffling about marriage because he sought to protect his own image as a preacher’s son.
The rain was beginning to slow some, and Sylvia felt no need to talk this to death tonight. “I’d best be getting back to the house,” she said softly, wanting some time alone to process all of this.
Titus stood up, too, still clutching his hat like a buffer between them. “I care ’bout ya, Sylvie, I do.”
He leaned in awkwardly, as if to kiss her cheek. But not wanting him to reach for her and hold her now, she turned to climb down the haymow ladder and ran through the gentle rain to the house.
CHAPTER
ten
Adeline could hear bare feet padding through the sitting room and assumed it was Sylvia. While curious, she did not open her door to try to engage her in conversation. What a strange way to date, Adeline thought, turning over in bed, still thinking of the quaint way Sylvia’s fiancé had gotten her attention.
It had been difficult to relax tonight. Sylvia and Titus’s relationship, and all the unfamiliar traditions that surrounded it, reminded her yet again of how foreign this world was from her own.
She had texted a while with Brendon, who was full of questions about the Amish. There was much to learn and understand, she’d told him, both good and bad. I don’t know how my father made the transition!
Adeline closed her eyes and thought tenderly of her mother. One of the last, most vivid memories she had was of sitting on her hospital bed as Adeline squeezed her mother’s weak hand, careful not to disturb the IV and oxygen tube. They had been talking quietly about things that were important to Mom, things she needed to tell Adeline related to faith, making an attempt to put into words what she had only recently come to believe. “I’ve started keeping a journal,” she told Adeline that day. “Sometimes, I jot down random thoughts, and other days, I admit my stupidity. But I want you to wait to read it till after I’m gone. And please, try to read with an open heart. . . .”
At the time, Adeline had been uncomfortable with the direction o
f the conversation, but seeing how very frail her mother was, Adeline hadn’t questioned her. It still struck her as ridiculous for her mother to apply the word stupidity to someone like herself. Now and then, when this particular memory came to mind, Adeline would wonder when—or if—she would ever feel ready to see what Mom had written.
She sighed as tears slipped down her face and onto the pillow.
———
“I think I just heard someone come upstairs,” Earnest said as he and Rhoda sat in their chairs near the open bedroom windows. Even though the earlier downpour had been heavy, the wind was blowing from the opposite direction, so Earnest left the windows open to admit the cooler air. “Do you think it could be Sylvia?”
“Jah.” Rhoda glanced up from her devotional. “Maybe I’ll go an’ check on her.”
Earnest agreed. He remained there, recalling once more how wonderful it had felt to embrace his wife earlier and wondering if they were getting back what they had lost. Cautious not to assume anything, he decided to let Rhoda make the next move.
He returned to reading his paper, hoping all was well between Sylvia and Titus. For the longest time, he’d worried that word of his first marriage—and his decision to keep it secret—might cause problems for her with Titus and his prominent family. And now here we are. . . .
When Rhoda returned, she came over and dropped into her chair with a sigh. “I wondered if this might happen,” she said. “Adeline’s comin’ has caused a ruckus with Titus.”
“Sylvia said that?”
Rhoda nodded. “Sylvia argued that Adeline doesn’t mean to cause a stir or pose a threat. It’s not as if the poor girl’s to blame.”
Earnest found himself agreeing wholeheartedly. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me, he thought.
“Sylvia’s understandably upset at his reaction.”
“Our girl has a gut head on her shoulders.”
They talked more about this, but after a time, Rhoda asked, “By the way, how did my parents take the news about Adeline?”
Earnest frowned. “As I suspected, they’d already heard some rumblings yet didn’t believe it was anything but hearsay. So I came right out and told them how shocking it’s been for me to learn that I have another child. I didn’t hold anything back.”
“It’s best they heard it directly from you.”
He nodded and they returned to reading, not saying anything more on the topic.
As Earnest was closing his book, Rhoda said quietly, “All of us are really just tryin’ to adjust.”
He smiled at his wife, pretty in her soft pink nightgown and matching duster. “You, dear, are doing better than the rest of us.”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “Well, it’s not as easy as you may think.”
“Jah?”
Frowning slightly, she said, “I’ve tried to put myself in her shoes and honor the Golden Rule.” She turned to look at him. “And don’t sell yourself short, Earnest. I’ve noticed the kind attention you’ve given to the dear girl. It’s just what she needs.”
“She needs all of us. We’re her family,” he said, reaching for Rhoda’s hand.
“I doubt Adeline realizes that yet.”
“True.”
When they retired for the night, Rhoda asked, “Do ya think Titus and Sylvia’s relationship will survive?”
“I daresay we’re seeing that fella’s true colors. Much as I hate to say it, I wonder if she would be better off without him.” He hoped he wasn’t letting his temper get the best of him.
“We’ll just leave it with the Lord. What else can we do?”
Earnest didn’t reply, thinking there were things that could be done. For one, he could ride over and talk with Amos Kauffman, help him understand that Adeline had nothing to do with Sylvia and Titus’s relationship.
———
Sitting in bed in her summer nightgown, Sylvia understood why Adeline had complained nearly all day. Despite the falling temperature outside, the heat trapped in the house had risen to the upstairs, and for the first time since last August’s dog days, Sylvia coveted a fan. Or even air conditioning, she thought, remembering how she had actually shivered at the convenience store.
She went to the dresser drawer for Titus’s letter, picked it up, and reread it slowly yet again. Their conversation in the haymow had been distressing. Briefly, she thought of praying about it, but then again, what was the point? Her many prayers hadn’t seemed to make a bit of a difference when it came to Dat’s shunning earlier that summer. Why would things be any different now?
CHAPTER
eleven
The next day, a no-Preaching Sunday, Sylvia got up earlier than anyone else except Dat to shower and dress. She wanted to help make breakfast, enjoying having Mamma to herself in the kitchen early in the morning.
Together, she and her mother moved about the airy space, each knowing what to do without saying much. Mamma gathered ingredients to make buttermilk pancakes while Sylvia got the blackberry jam out of the pantry and made toast, expecting Adeline to wander in at any moment. She won’t be around forever, thought Sylvia. Then things will return to normal.
It was impossible to glance out the window toward the barn without nagging thoughts of last night’s meeting with Titus. Unsettled feelings continued to brew within her.
“Good morning,” Adeline announced when she entered the kitchen wearing her new cropped pants and the breezy sleeveless yellow top.
“Guder Mariye to you, too,” Mamma replied with a smile. “You look like a sunbeam, ever so bright.”
Adeline dipped her head before looking over at Sylvia. “How are you, Sylvie?”
Sylvie? she thought, surprised.
“I hope you don’t mind if I call you that,” Adeline said quickly. “I heard your brothers refer to you that way yesterday.”
Sylvia forced a smile. “It’s okay,” she said, catching Mamma’s eye. Her expression indicated, “Be nice.”
Adeline, who seemed to have read the temperature in the room, was already backtracking. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—”
“No, really . . . it’s fine.” Sylvia broadened her smile. “I like the nickname.”
“I do, too,” Adeline said a bit sheepishly.
“So do I,” Mamma added brightly, mixing the pancake batter by hand. “By the way, Sylvie, Dat will be stayin’ home with Adeline ’stead of goin’ visiting,” she said. “So if you’d like to stay, too, you may. Your brothers and I will go an’ see my parents and stay for the noon meal.” Mamma also mentioned taking along the two blueberry pies she’d baked yesterday while Sylvia and Adeline had gone shopping.
Dat surely wants more time with Adeline, Sylvia thought, figuring she would be in the way here. “Nee, I’ll go with ya to visit Dawdi and Mammi,” she said.
Mamma looked her way. “Well then, you and your brothers can go together,” she said. “And I’ll stay home.”
Now Sylvia felt bad about Mamma not getting to see her parents, something she so looked forward to, but Sylvia wasn’t going to argue in front of Adeline.
For her own part, she also hoped to visit Cousin Alma that afternoon. I’ll see how long we’re at Dawdi and Mammi’s, she mused, assuming Dat had told them yesterday about Adeline. Surely . . . otherwise Mamma wouldn’t send us kids over there alone.
———
Though Adeline had decided not to bring it up, she wanted to charge her phone in the car after breakfast and reach out to Brendon. She missed him and wanted to follow up on their conversation yesterday, when he had shown surprising interest in her sudden immersion into Amish culture. Eager for more details, she thought, glancing at Sylvia while the two of them set the table. He had also asked a series of questions about their beliefs, which was strange, considering his general indifference to religion.
She considered the peculiar interaction between Rhoda and Sylvia earlier, when Rhoda had suggested Sylvia stay home while Rhoda and the boys went to visit the grandparents. But Sylvia had immediat
ely shot it down. Is she upset with me? Adeline wondered, realizing that she had barged into their lives. Without an ounce of warning. And it wasn’t as if she found it easy to fit in around here.
The strangest thought occurred to her: Is Sylvia threatened by me?
The idea was laughable, and Adeline dismissed it as absurd as she poured orange juice into eight small glasses while Sylvia poured coffee for her parents and herself. Adeline had never enjoyed the taste of coffee, having been raised to drink herbal or green teas—hot or cold. Mom thought it was far healthier . . . better for the brain. “Drink it at breakfast and lunch,” Adeline remembered her saying.
Glancing at Sylvia, she noticed dark circles under her eyes and decided it must have been a restless night for her. She’s not quite herself, Adeline thought, wondering if Sylvia and her mother were close enough for heart-to-heart talks. Rhoda certainly seemed like someone who could be trusted.
When at last the family sat down to eat, Adeline’s gaze took in everyone there, all of them dressed in their Sunday best. Earnest and his wife and kids were the proverbial picture of a happy family, though a decidedly old-fashioned one. And devout, she thought as they bowed their heads simultaneously for the mealtime blessing.
While the prayer was taking place—today it seemed extra long—she mentally tallied up the things she wanted to tell Brendon the next time they were in touch. If only she dared to send him a photo of Earnest and his family . . . but she was reluctant to do that without their permission, and she certainly would not inquire.
Finally, the blessing was finished, although she still didn’t know exactly how that was determined. Why doesn’t Earnest just pray aloud? This and other questions filtered through her mind as she took a single pancake from the platter, noticing that each of the boys had taken at least two larger ones, including little Tommy.
Ernie and Adam were more talkative at this meal, and Adeline assumed they were more comfortable with her presence. There was the usual table talk between Earnest and Rhoda, niceties from Earnest about how delicious everything tasted, and Rhoda smiling in response and asking him about things around his clock shop.
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