Eve took a deep, shuddering breath. It was warm inside the enormous dairy barn and smelled comfortingly of fresh hay, straw and well-cared-for animals. A black cat leaped up onto the bale of straw and rubbed against her. Eve stroked its back, and it purred, watching the chicken.
The chicken paid no attention to the cat and wandered off, still searching for a stray morsel of corn or grain on the swept concrete floor. The cat seemed to know that things wouldn’t end well if it pounced on the chicken. Alma Stolzfus wouldn’t have a cat on the property that harmed any animals but a rat or a mouse.
Eve glanced up at the closed barn doors. The larger of the two, meant to lead farm stock or equipment through, had a wide crack at the top that needed caulking. The late afternoon sun poured through the opening, and she watched the movement of dust motes. The way they were illuminated in the beams of sunlight, they seemed to twinkle, reminding her of the stars in the heavens.
Was her life truly over? Her dat had said it was if she didn’t do as he ordered. But how could it be over? She was only twenty-two. She had too many dreams to have reached the end so soon. She had imagined having a handsome husband, her own home, a house full of children. She had imagined being happy.
Would she ever find happiness now? Or at least contentment?
Eve pressed her lips together, fighting tears that brimmed in her eyes. There had to be an answer to her dilemma. There had to be.
Mari had said she could help. Mari was a cousin she didn’t often see because Eve’s father had had a disagreement with Mari’s father, his cousin, many years ago. And Eve and Mari didn’t belong to the same church district, so the only time they saw each other was at young people’s social events. There were plenty of chaperoned frolics for young men and women of marrying age in the county, but Eve didn’t get to go often because of her responsibilities at home.
As the eldest of six children and because their mother had died years ago, it fell to Eve to do the cooking and cleaning and other household chores in her father’s home. Her sister Annie, at nineteen, was a great help, but the burden of being in charge was still firmly balanced on Eve’s shoulders. With meals to cook, the house to clean, laundry to do and clothes to be sewn for her growing brothers and sisters, she didn’t get out often. That was at least partially how she’d ended up in this situation to begin with. She didn’t get to spend much time with other young women or men, and she had never been on a date. Not only had she never been on a date, but a young man had never even expressed any interest in her before. That was why, when Jemuel had paid attention to her at her father’s booth at the farmers market, she’d so quickly become enamored with him.
The sound of a door opening startled Eve, and she half rose from the bale of straw she was sitting on. The standard-sized door beside the larger sliding one swung open.
“Eve, it’s Mari,” her cousin called as she entered the barn. “I brought someone with me. Someone who can maybe help.”
“Ne,” Eve said miserably, now having second thoughts about having come to the Stolzfus farm. Her father would be so angry with her if he found out she’d told someone what happened with Jemuel. The only reason he had let her come to the singing was because he had assumed she would be meeting Jemuel there to discuss their impending wedding nuptials. An assumption she hadn’t corrected. She’d neither seen nor heard from Jemuel since she’d run from him, and she hoped she would never lay eyes on him again.
“I don’t want anyone to know,” Eve murmured. Then she saw him: Levi Miller. Though she didn’t know him, she knew of him. Mostly because every woman in the county, ages 2 to 102, thought he was as handsome as a man could be. They had once been introduced at a girls-against-boys softball game, but it had been a year ago and she doubted he remembered her. She wasn’t the kind of girl a boy remembered.
“I don’t know if you’ve met Levi, but—”
“Ne,” Eve interrupted Mari, mortified that Levi was whom she had brought. A boy? What was her cousin thinking? Did Mari really think she was going to talk to a boy about what Jemuel had done, what he had tried to do? She twisted her fingers in the skirt fabric of her threadbare green dress. “This isn’t a good idea. My father would be so angry if he found out I had told anyone. Even you,” she told Mari pointedly.
“Sounds to me like he’s already pretty angry.” Mari turned to wave Levi, who stood in the doorway backlit by sunlight, inside. “Come in and close the door,” she told him. “We don’t want Trudy to know we’re here. Otherwise she’ll be giving her opinion.”
Levi closed the door behind him. “I won’t let anyone in. Not anyone you don’t want here.” He was speaking to Eve.
Eve waited for her eyes to adjust so she could see him and her cousin better. She imagined their eyes were adjusting, too, after coming into the barn from the bright afternoon sunshine. Which was a good thing because it gave her a moment to gather her wits. When Mari had said she might know someone who could help, Eve had assumed she meant her aunt Alma or maybe one of the other women there chaperoning the frolic. Eve would never have agreed to let Mari bring Levi Miller. What could Mari possibly be thinking to believe Eve would tell this young man anything about what had happened to her? Why would Mari think he would care?
As her eyes adjusted, there was no doubt in Eve’s mind that Levi Miller was good-looking. He wasn’t overly tall, but he had broad shoulders and nice hands that were clean, his nails trimmed. His hair was a medium brown, shiny and a little long, the way unmarried boys sometimes let theirs get when they were away from their mothers’ watchful eyes. He had a strong chin, a long, straight nose and expressive blue-gray eyes, framed by heavy brows.
He was as handsome as she was plain.
Eve had always known she wasn’t a pretty girl. But she didn’t think she was ugly, either. She was just…plain. She was ordinary in looks with brown hair and brown eyes and a short, thick, round body. She was ordinary in the way a white dinner plate was ordinary. Nothing fancy, but well suited to the task. Eve’s appearance was suitable to who she was: a woman of God, Amish, a big sister to three brothers and two sisters, and a daughter to Amon Summy. In that order.
“Please go.” Eve lowered her gaze, unable to bear the two of them standing there looking at her.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” Levi said. He had a warm and steady tenor voice. “I came to see if I could help.”
Eve clasped her hands together and glanced down to where the chicken had scratched in the sawdust. There were lines and shapes. As she studied them at her feet, she thought she saw a heart, and she stared at it.
A sign from God?
Eve had never been one for looking for signs from God, not like her father. He never liked to make big decisions without first praying and then waiting for a sign. When he had decided he wanted to take her out of school after she had completed the sixth grade, he had told her he would make his decision in a few days. The fact that she didn’t want to quit school and stay home to work all day hadn’t mattered. He had prayed and then waited for a sign. It had come in the form of a single black-eyed Susan in her mother’s flower bed near the back door of their house. Her father said that was a sign from God that she was meant to be home alone during the day while the others were in school.
He had received the same sign when he decided that her sister Annie should leave school. However, their father had received no such sign from God concerning the boys in the family. Both older boys attended classes until they were sixteen, and Abiah would be in eighth grade in the fall. Eve and Annie had talked, wondering if their father would receive a sign that their sister Naomi, who had just completed the sixth grade, was to end her schooling.
“Please, Eve,” Mari fretted. “I don’t know how else to help you. Even though my mam said you might be able to stay with us for a little while, my dat said no. Your father and him being cousins, he said he didn’t think it was right for him to get involved in a family ma
tter. Especially since my father and yours are not on good terms.”
“I can’t promise you I can help, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I know I can’t,” Levi said. He spoke gently to her as if she were an animal that might bolt at any moment.
“Come on.” Mari sat down on the bale of straw and patted it. “Sit down and tell Levi what happened.” She caught the hem of Eve’s dress and tugged on it.
Eve dropped down. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Ne, of course not. I gave you my word. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone without your permission.” Mari took Eve’s hand in her own. “It’s better if you explain to him, in your own words. It’s your story to tell,” she said soberly.
Eve hung her head in shame. “I can’t,” she whispered. How could she tell Levi Miller, the most eligible bachelor in Lancaster County, how stupid she had been? How naive?
“I wish you would.” Levi walked away and came back with a milking stool. He set it an appropriate distance from the two young women and sat down, facing them. “I’m a pretty good listener. That’s what my sisters say.”
It took Eve a moment to find her voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she spoke. “You have sisters?”
“A bunch of them. My sister Mary is older than I am and married with children. She lives in New York, where we’re originally from. But my sisters back in Delaware—stepsisters technically—we talk all the time. There’s Lovey, who’s married and lives down the road, Ginger, who just wed in the spring to our neighbor Eli, and Bay, Nettie and Tara are still at home.” He spoke slowly, his voice growing on Eve.
But Eve still couldn’t look at him. It took her what seemed like an eternity to speak, but he waited patiently. She was embarrassed to tell him what had happened, but she was running out of choices. She had prayed and prayed to God to save her. What if He had sent Levi with a solution?
Eve swallowed hard, digging deep within herself to find the nerve to speak. “I did a foolish thing,” she blurted.
Levi threaded his fingers together, lowering his head thoughtfully before looking up at her again. “Haven’t we all?”
“Ne, this was really foolish. I didn’t think it through.” Once she started to speak, she couldn’t stop. It all tumbled out of her. “I met this boy named Jemuel. He’s the same age as me. He seemed so nice. He came every Friday for weeks. Stopped by at my father’s table at the farmers market. Jemuel and I talked, and we laughed. And one day, he brought me a turkey sandwich and an orange soda pop. He kept asking me if I wanted to go to a singing with him. I thought he was being nice, and not many boys—” Eve’s voice caught in her throat.
“It’s all right,” Mari assured her, taking her hand again and squeezing it.
“No one ever asks to take me to a singing, or offers a ride home,” Eve continued. “Not that I get to go to a lot of singings.”
“Her mother passed twelve years ago, having her youngest sister. Eve cares for three brothers and two sisters, all younger. And her father. She runs the house, cooks, cleans—she does it all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I lost my mother a few years ago. I understand how hard it is,” Levi said. “Did your father not remarry?”
“He did,” Eve murmured. “But she left.”
They were all quiet for a moment until Mari urged, “Tell Levi what happened with Jemuel.”
Eve exhaled. She was still shaky inside, but at least she didn’t feel as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment anymore. “Jemuel kept inviting me out. I asked my father and asked. And every time he said no. He said he didn’t know Jemuel or his family and that it wasn’t—” She hesitated and then went on. “He said it wasn’t safe for a young woman to ride in a buggy with a man she didn’t know.”
Eve was quiet long enough that Levi said, “Okay?” his tone pressing her to go on.
“I went anyway.” The words came out sounding more defiant than Eve intended. “I disobeyed my father, and a week ago Friday night, I sneaked out of the house and met Jemuel at the end of our lane. We were supposed to go to a singing. I wore my favorite dress. Blue. I love a blue dress.” She didn’t know why she told him that detail. What did men care about what a woman wore? But she had loved that dress that was now ruined, torn in shreds, and waiting in her sewing room to become something else. The dress had reminded her of her mother because her mother’s favorite color had been blue, and she had worn it all the time.
“You sneaked out of the house?” Levi pushed gently.
“Ya. It was after nine and dark when I left. Jemuel said the singing didn’t start until later, so it would be fine going that late. I didn’t use my head,” she admitted. “I didn’t think about the fact that singings don’t start at ten o’clock at night. I was just happy that Jemuel wanted to be with me. That he liked me.”
Eve took another deep breath. “So… I got into Jemuel’s buggy with him. And at first, everything was fine. We were talking and laughing. He told me a funny story about chasing a calf through his sister’s spinach patch. But the minute he took the beers out from under the seat, I should have been suspicious. I should have told him to turn around and take me home. Either that or I should have just gotten out of the buggy and walked home. Before it was too late.” She whispered her last words.
Mari wrapped her arm around Eve’s shoulders. “You’re doing great. Keep going.”
“I didn’t drink the beer, but he did. He drank the beers and threw the cans out of the buggy. Right on the road. I didn’t get suspicious, though, until I realized we were headed away from the direction where he said the singing was. But even then, I didn’t make him turn around.” She looked up to see Levi watching her, his face without judgment. It gave her the courage to go on.
“Instead of going to his aunt’s, he drove down a long lane to an abandoned farmhouse. I told him I didn’t want to go inside. That I wanted to go to the singing or home. Jemuel said we had to make a stop at the house to get something for his uncle, and then we’d go to the singing. He said the house belonged to them. He wanted me to go inside with him, and I didn’t—”
Her words caught in her throat, but this time she feared she wouldn’t be able to speak again.
“Take a breath,” Mari encouraged, rubbing Eve’s arm.
Eve inhaled deeply and went on. “I didn’t want to go, but I went anyway.” She spoke now in a voice barely above a whisper. She could hear the black-and-white chicken clucking in the far corner of the barn. “When we got inside, Jemuel, he…he tried to—” She felt her face grow hot and she couldn’t speak.
“He tried to push himself on her,” Mari finished for her.
“Push himself?” Levi didn’t seem to understand what Mari was saying. Then, suddenly, the expression on his face changed. “He tried to take advantage of her,” he said angrily. “Did he…harm you, Eve?”
Eve felt as if she were frozen. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She could barely hear. All she saw was Levi sitting there on the milk stool, handsome, smart Levi. And here she was, ugly and stupid.
“He didn’t.” Mari took over the explanation. “Eve hit him with a broken chair, and she ran. He chased her, but she was smart. She didn’t take the road. Instead, she ran through the woods. It took her all night long, but she found her way home.”
“I thought my father would go to Jemuel, to Jemuel’s father, to his bishop and tell them what happened. I thought my father would defend me. I thought he would see Jemuel punished. He didn’t.” Tears welled in Eve’s eyes. “He said it was all my fault.”
“Wait.” Levi came off the milk stool so quickly that he knocked it over. “Your father blamed you?” he asked, his hands on his hips as he stood before her.
Eve nodded, unable to verbally respond.
“Her father told her that she had shamed herself and the family, and the only way to make amends for her sin was to m
arry Jemuel,” Mari finished for her.
“What sin did you commit?” Levi asked, his eyes narrowing. “Being too trusting is not a sin, Eve.”
Eve pressed her lips together. “My only sin was not obeying my father, and for that, I confessed to our bishop, though I didn’t tell him the details. And I apologized to my father.”
“Let me make sure I have this right.” Levi began to pace. “A man took you for a buggy ride, making you think he was taking you somewhere he had no intention of taking you. And then he tried to take advantage of you?” he asked in disbelief.
Eve hung her head.
“And if she doesn’t marry Jemuel, this week, her father is putting her out of the house and having her shunned,” Mari explained. “I tried to convince my parents to let her stay with us, but I couldn’t.”
“It’s all right,” Eve assured her cousin, smiling feebly at her. “I understand. My father can be a difficult man. I wouldn’t bring those difficulties into your father’s home. You don’t deserve that. None of you do. But I cannot marry Jemuel,” she went on, her voice so strained that she barely recognized it. “I will not. But I don’t know where to go. What to do.” She finally felt brave enough to meet Levi’s gaze. “If I’m shunned, I’ll lose everything. I’ve already lost my family, but to lose my God…”
“You can’t lose God,” Levi insisted. “No one can lose God. He’s with us always.”
“I’ll lose everything,” Eve repeated. “And I cannot lose my faith. I cannot lose my church. I know that most people our age at least consider what it would be like to leave our homes, our Amish way of life, to be an Englisher, but I never have. I love our faith, our simple ways. I love God, and I will not abandon Him.” Her last words were fierce.
Mari rose, crossing her arms over her chest. “You see the problem here,” she told him. “If Eve doesn’t marry immediately, she’s out of her father’s house, out of the Amish community.”
Levi nodded, still pacing. “And you don’t think that your father said these things impulsively? You don’t think he’ll change his mind?”
Finding Her Courage Page 20