A Seat by the Hearth

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A Seat by the Hearth Page 6

by Amy Clipston


  “It’s none of my business.” He picked up another chip and tossed it into his mouth.

  “Did you tell your family I’m back?”

  He shook his head as he swallowed. “Only Laura.”

  She blinked. Her vision of Mark gossiping about her was entirely wrong, unless he wasn’t telling her the truth. But she didn’t find any evidence of a lie on his face or in his eyes.

  “She’s really excited that you’re back. She can’t wait to see you.”

  “I can’t wait to see her,” she admitted, ashamed she’d even considered Laura and Cindy gossiping about her. She ran her finger over the wood-grain tabletop as she felt the urge to share more with him. “I didn’t come straight home today after I met with the bishop.” The words seemed to leap from her mouth as if they craved someone’s understanding ear. “I asked mei dat’s driver to take me to a coffee shop so I could just sit alone and figure out what I’m doing.”

  “What do you mean?” He leaned forward, his expression pensive.

  “I just keep wondering if coming back here and rejoining the church is the right decision for Ethan. He needs a safe and stable home.”

  “Why would coming here be wrong, then?”

  “What if the community rejects me? Sure, the bishop will tell them I’m a member of the church after I complete the classes, but what if people still treat me like I’m a sinner?”

  “That won’t happen. You know the entire community will forgive you. Besides, look around you.” He gestured around the kitchen. “Your parents are gut Christian people. Ethan will have love and guidance here.”

  “Ya, you’re right.” She nodded, but doubt continued to taunt her. Still, this was too personal of a conversation for her to share with Mark. He wasn’t her friend. Why did she feel the need to trust him?

  She stood and started picking up their dishes. “I have chores to do, and I’m sure mei dat needs you outside. Danki for having lunch with me.” She carried the dishes to the sink and set them in the water she’d drawn earlier.

  When she turned, she almost collided with Mark’s chest as he came to stand beside her.

  “Here you go.” He smiled as he set the utensils and their glasses on the counter. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Danki.” She looked up at him and took in his attractive face. Too bad he was a known flirt in her community. Not that she was remotely interested in another relationship.

  “Don’t doubt your decision to come home. People are going to be froh that you’re back,” he said. “Just wait and see when you go to church this Sunday.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You know I am.” Then he winked before heading to the mudroom.

  Priscilla rolled her eyes as she leaned back against the counter. Why would she ever consider Mark Riehl a friend? He had to be the most conceited man and worst flirt she’d ever known.

  FIVE

  PRISCILLA’S HEART POUNDED AS SHE WALKED WITH her parents and Ethan toward the Zook family’s house.

  “So I have to sit with Daadi during church because I’m a bu?” Ethan asked.

  Priscilla looked down at him. Despite his short haircut, he looked Amish clad in his black trousers, white shirt, and black vest, the Sunday suit all male members of the community wore. “Ya, that’s right.”

  Ethan touched Dat’s arm. “Where do we sit?”

  “In the barn.” Dat nodded toward the structure. “I’ll show you.”

  Priscilla looked at her father, and when their eyes met, he immediately turned away. She swallowed a sigh. When would he look at her and talk to her as if she were a valuable human being? She turned back to Ethan. Did he notice how her father acted toward her? Was it harmful for Ethan to witness how poorly her father treated her? Would Dat’s example influence him to turn out like Trent?

  As her thoughts turned to Trent, a shiver danced down her spine despite the humid air, and she absently rubbed her right bicep. She’d tailored two more long-sleeved dresses to give them three-quarter sleeves. Her mother asked why she didn’t give them short sleeves, and she’d told her she’d learned to like longer sleeves best. She was relieved when Mamm let the subject drop.

  She tried to dispel her doubt about moving back home as she smiled at Ethan and rubbed his cheek. “I’ll see you after the service. Remember to be quiet and respectful.”

  “I will.”

  She squeezed his hand before he and her father took off toward the barn. Then she continued with her mother toward the Zook family’s house. She stood up straighter as they approached the back porch.

  “You have no reason to be naerfich,” Mamm said as if reading her thoughts. “You have every right to visit with the women before the service.”

  “I have only a few minutes before I need to meet with the bishop.” She fingered the skirt of her dress as she walked behind her mother up the steps.

  “You have enough time to see your freinden.” Mamm opened the back door.

  Pressure clamped down on Priscilla’s lungs as she followed her mother into the mudroom, where voices sounded from the kitchen. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together for a moment before walking inside with shaking hands. The women in her congregation stood in a circle greeting one another, and she saw a sea of faces, most of them familiar.

  “Priscilla!”

  She spun as Laura came up behind her and then wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “Oh, Priscilla.” Laura’s voice sounded thick. “Mark told me you were back, and I prayed you’d come to church today.”

  “Laura.” Wetness gathered under her eyes. “It’s been too long.”

  “Ya, it has.” Laura touched her cheek. “You look great.”

  “You do too.” It had always astounded her that Laura shared coloring more like her older brother, Jamie, than her twin’s. Laura had dark-brown hair, and Mark’s hair was a lighter shade of brown. But all the Riehl siblings shared the same striking, bright-blue eyes.

  “This is mei dochder, Mollie. Her mutter was Savilla.” Laura nodded at the little blonde standing next to her holding a picture book.

  Priscilla clicked her tongue as her eyes stung with more tears. “Mark told me what happened. I can’t believe it.”

  “I know. I miss her so much.” She touched Mollie’s arm. “Mollie, this is mei freind Priscilla. Can you say hello?”

  “Hi.” Mollie waved at her and then hid behind the skirt of Laura’s blue dress.

  Laura laughed. “She’s pretending to be shy.”

  “She’s beautiful.” Priscilla smiled at the girl, taking in her baby-blue eyes. She recalled Savilla’s chocolate-colored eyes and surmised that Mollie’s father must have blue eyes. Priscilla’s eyes moved down Laura’s body and stopped at her middle.

  “I know Mark told you we’re expecting.” Laura touched her little belly and smiled. “I want to meet your sohn. Mark said he’s a chatterbox and a gut helper.”

  “Danki.” Priscilla’s gaze moved to a group of women approaching them.

  “You must be Priscilla.” A woman with golden-blond hair and blue eyes, and who looked about her age, stepped toward her. She was holding a toddler. “I’m Kayla, and this is mei sohn, Calvin.”

  “Kayla is Jamie’s fraa,” Laura explained before turning to a middle-aged woman. “This is my stepmother, Florence.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Priscilla said, shaking her hand and taking in Kayla’s belly too.

  When Priscilla felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned. A young woman smiled at her. “Cindy? Is that you?”

  “Ya, it’s gut to see you.” Cindy hugged her.

  “Oh my goodness. You’re taller than I am!”

  “Imagine how I feel,” Laura quipped. “She’s my little schweschder, and she towers over me.”

  “Laura!” Mamm joined them. “It’s so gut to see you.”

  “Edna,” Florence said. “We need to get together to sew again soon. It’s been too long.”

  “Ya, it has,” Ma
mm said, agreeing. “Did you finish that wedding ring quilt you were working on for that one customer?”

  “I did.”

  As her mother and Florence continued to talk, Priscilla turned back to Laura. “I’m so sorry about your mamm and Savilla. If only I’d been here to help you through your grief. I feel terrible for not contacting you.”

  “I missed you so much, but it was even worse after I lost mei mamm and then Savilla.” Laura touched Priscilla’s hand. “I still can’t believe they’re both gone.” She glanced down at Mollie, who was sitting on the floor and flipping through the pages of her book. “She reminds me of Savilla all the time. She has her smile. When I look in Mollie’s eyes, I see Savilla, and it helps me cope with not having her.”

  Priscilla nodded. “She has her schee hair too. I think it’s wunderbaar that Mollie has you.”

  “Danki.” Laura smiled at her. “We have a lot of catching up to do. We need to get together soon.”

  “Ya, we do.”

  Laura’s eyes glimmered. “It’s so gut to have you back.”

  Priscilla swallowed against a lump swelling in her throat.

  When the clock began to chime, announcing it was nine, Priscilla gestured toward the door. “I have to go meet with the bishop, but I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay.” Laura gave her another quick hug and then whispered in her ear, “Promise me I’ll see you soon.”

  “You will,” Priscilla said.

  Mark scanned the congregation as he sat on a backless bench next to Roy in the unmarried men’s section of the barn and fingered his hymnal. He spotted Ethan sitting beside Yonnie. When Ethan met his gaze, the boy waved, and Mark grinned in response.

  “What are you looking at?” Roy asked.

  “Ethan is here.” He nodded toward the boy.

  “Ethan?” Roy’s brown eyebrows shot up.

  “He’s Yonnie and Edna’s grandson. He and his mamm, Priscilla, came to live with them this week. I went to school with Priscilla.” He explained that Priscilla was best friends with Laura.

  “Oh. You haven’t mentioned that at home.”

  No, he hadn’t. Mark had shared the news of Priscilla’s homecoming with only one person—Laura. Her return seemed so personal, and for some odd reason, he felt the need to shield her from any community gossip.

  That was crazy. He and Priscilla had never been good friends. He’d always considered her standoffish and unapproachable. The conversation he’d shared with her on Friday during lunch was the first meaningful discussion they’d ever shared.

  The service began, and Mark joined in as the congregation slowly sang the opening hymn. A young man sitting two rows behind him served as the song leader. He began the first syllable of each line, and then the rest of the congregation joined him to finish each line.

  Mark tried to concentrate on the hymn, but his thoughts kept turning to Priscilla. He imagined her meeting with the bishop and ministers in one of the upstairs rooms in the Zook house as they reminded her of their beliefs and the history of the Amish church. He remembered her story about visiting the coffee shop and what she’d told him about her doubts. Did she still think the community would reject her and Ethan?

  During the last verse of the second hymn, he turned and moved his eyes to the back of the barn just as Priscilla stepped inside and walked up the aisle toward the front. She wore a red dress that had three-quarter sleeves, just like the dress she’d worn on Friday, and it puzzled him. It was a sweltering day, so why hadn’t she put on a short-sleeved dress like the rest of the women in the community?

  Priscilla kept her eyes focused on the floor of the barn as she made her way to the front row, where she sank onto the bench and then bent forward, her hands covering her face. A lump swelled in his throat. Why did he feel such a deep empathy for her?

  The ministers entered the barn and placed their hats on two hay bales, indicating that the service was about to begin. They made their way to the front of the barn and sat in front of Priscilla. The chosen minister began the first sermon, and Mark did his best to concentrate on the words, but his eyes kept finding their way back to Priscilla. She remained frozen in place, her head bent and her hands covering her face as if she were pleading with God to forgive her transgressions. While it was tradition for a shunned member of the church to sit like that, it bothered him to see her that way.

  The first sermon ended, and Mark knelt in silent prayer. After the prayers, the deacon read from the Scriptures, and then the hour-long main sermon began. During the second sermon Priscilla sat up, her back ramrod straight as if someone had poured steel down her spine. She kept her focus on the minister.

  His gaze wandered toward the unmarried women, and he found Franey Herschberger’s hazel eyes focused on him. A sweet smile turned up the corners of her lips. He returned the greeting with a nod. Beside her Ruthann King studied the lap of her pink dress.

  While his siblings joked that he was dating them both, he didn’t consider his relationship with either of them serious. They were like special friends, with no promises of a future. The time they spent together was fun. They played board games and ate the delicious food they made for him. They talked for hours, but he’d never kissed either of them or even held their hands.

  The arrangement didn’t seem to bother Ruthann and Franey. They seemed to enjoy spending time with him and laughing at his jokes. Still, Laura insisted his relationships with them would someday lead to one of the young ladies nursing a broken heart. Mark disagreed. What was wrong with having a little fun?

  When it was time for the fifteen-minute prayer, Mark knelt and focused on God. He opened his heart and began to pray.

  Lord, danki for all the blessings in my life. Please keep my family healthy and safe. Danki for bringing Priscilla back to the community. I can tell she’s struggling with her decision to rejoin the church. Please lead her and guide her heart. Protect her and Ethan and help her rebuild her relationships with her family and freinden.

  After the prayer, the congregation stood for the benediction and sang the closing hymn. Mark’s eyes moved back to Priscilla as she sang along with the hymn. Did she still feel like an outcast? If so, could he somehow help her find her way back into the community? Hopefully she would feel God’s love wrapped around her like a cozy blanket, helping her feel welcomed back into the church, even if certain individuals should make her feel otherwise.

  When the hymn ended, seventy-year-old John Smucker, his church district’s bishop, stood and faced the congregation. “And now I invite all the nonmembers of the congregation to please exit and the baptized members to stay for a special meeting.”

  A murmur spread throughout the congregation as the young, unbaptized members filed out through the barn door, gathering the children as they went.

  Priscilla walked to her father and whispered something to him before taking Ethan’s hand and leading him toward the barn exit. When she walked past Mark, she met his gaze with a solemn expression. He nodded at her as Ethan gave him another little wave.

  After all the nonmembers had left, Mark turned his attention back to the bishop.

  “We’re having a members-only meeting because one of our schweschdere has fallen into sin,” John announced to open the meeting. “Priscilla Allgyer left the community eight years ago to live in Baltimore like an Englisher. She returned to her family this past Thursday and met with me on Friday. She’s repentant, and she wants to return to the church. After her time under the Meiding, she can be received back into the church.”

  John paused a moment, and a soft murmur moved through the congregation once again.

  Mark turned to the unmarried women’s section and spotted Franey and Ruthann whispering. He pressed his lips together, and his shoulders tightened. He hoped his friends weren’t gossiping about Priscilla.

  His eyes moved to the married women’s section, and when he spotted Edna wiping her eyes, an invisible fist seemed to punch his heart. He could almost feel Edna’s joy over her daughter�
�s return. He turned to the married men’s section, where Yonnie sat stoically, his expression grave. Was he hiding his feelings? Or was he truly not overjoyed to have his daughter back in his life? He hoped Yonnie was simply talented at masking his emotions.

  “The meeting is over,” John said, and conversations broke out around the barn.

  “Let’s set up for lunch,” Roy said, patting Mark on the shoulder.

  “Ya, I’m hungry.” Mark smiled as he picked up a bench and helped Roy set it into a stand so it could be used as a table.

  “Mark!” Franey appeared beside him and fingered the tie of her prayer covering as she smiled up at him. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over and visit this afternoon. I made a couple of strawberry pies yesterday, and I know you like them a lot.” She touched his bicep and tilted her head as her eyes pleaded for a positive response.

  Although the strawberry pie was tempting, Mark wanted to spend the afternoon resting. He just wasn’t in the mood for company outside of his immediate family.

  “Danki for the invitation, but I think I’m going to just rest at home,” he said with his best smile. “I’d love a rain check, though.”

  Franey groaned and stuck out her lower lip, an expression Laura referred to as Franey’s “wounded puppy dog look “when she’d once witnessed it. Mark bit back a grin at the memory of his twin’s comment. Although Franey was the same age as Mark and Laura, she sometimes acted a few years younger. But Franey was pretty with her bright-hazel eyes and medium-blond hair.

  “We could set something up for next week.” Mark hoped the vague offer of another time would suffice.

  “Okay.” Franey’s smile was back. “I’ll see you later.” She turned and headed toward the barn exit.

  “Why did you turn her down?” Roy asked as he sidled up to him.

  Mark shrugged. “I’m just not in the mood.”

  “You could’ve told her I’m free this afternoon.”

  Mark gave a bark of laughter. “She’s two years older than you.”

  “So?” Roy challenged him. “I like strawberry pie.”

 

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