Lancaster Hearts (Out of Darkness - Amish Connections (An Amish of Lancaster County Saga))

by Ruth Price

  When the call came for the young men to eat, the boys went chattering amongst each other cheerfully. Caleb was quiet, walking just outside the group. When Isaac met his gaze and smiled, the boy nodded, but his eyes were narrowed and his lips were set in a tight line.

  Chapter 3

  After putting Mary and Miriam to bed, with the full knowledge that both girls would be immediately sneak out to sit at the top of the stairs and listen to what was going on the singing circle as best as they could, Judith joined the others who had already gathered in the living room. She and Esther had already prepared the food, the leftover pastries kept in the oven on the lowest heat setting to be kept warm. Bowls of macaroni and potato salad were stored in the refrigerator. Judith had spent a half hour with Rachel and the other girls washing and drying the dishes, which were now stacked on the dining room table for the fellowship that would happen after the sing.

  There was an excitement in the air. It was rare to host an impromptu sing like this, especially with two guests from faraway. Rachel and Fawn talked of little but Isaac, though Fawn only echoed Rachel's words and dried the dishes with an intensity that spoke to discomfort rather than a lighthearted crush. Judith was content to let the conversation go along without her, holding the two conversations she'd shared with Isaac as jewels in her heart.

  But as the final dishes were being stacked, Rachel turned to Judith, her eyes wide, flaring out the fingers of her right hand in a dramatic sweep. “You spoke with Isaac, didn't you?”

  “What?”

  For a moment, Judith feared that Rachel had overheard her conversation with Isaac as she was helping organize the loading of the benches after the church service, but then Rachel said, “With the horses. You must have said something to him?”

  “Nothing exceptional,” Judith said, truthfully. “I mainly walked his daed to see the Bishop.”

  “Well, yes, of course. You would do that,” Rachel said, dismissively. “So you didn't get any impression of him? His habits or interests?”

  “We barely spoke.” And later, they'd spoken little of shared interests. “I wouldn't have wanted to do something improper.”

  “No, you wouldn't. You may as well become a teacher,” Rachel said. “You've the mind for it, and no interest in being married”

  “I never said I didn't have interest in being married!” Judith snapped, and immediately regretted losing her temper, because Rachel's full attention now focused on her.

  “You've never shown any interests in the other boys. Just your Englischer job and classes.”

  “That doesn't mean I don't want to be married. Maybe I'm simply waiting for the right man.”

  “An Englischer, I guess.”

  “Or an Amish man. There's no reason I can't.”

  Rachel gave Judith a long, calculating look. Judith had always been a bit too tall, but unlike Rachel, whose skin was often dusted with acne, Judith's skin had a clear, creamy complexion, a bit pale lately due to her night job and daytime classes. Judith had always been described as having a serious face, strong bones, a straight, no-nonsense nose, and hair with just the slightest wave on the rare occasions she let it out of her severe braids or bun. Judith knew she was no competition to Rachel's vivacious cheer and her soft curves that were complimented by the simple, plain clothing they all wore. But Judith wasn't ugly. She had just as much of a chance of any of them of acquiring a husband.

  “You like Isaac, don't you?” Rachel declared.

  “I--”

  “Well ultimately, it's neither of our decision. It's about what best suits him,” Rachel's words were as generous and reasonable as one could expect, but there was a smugness to her tone that put Judith on edge. “We'll simply have to see who best suits him.”

  Fawn stole a glance at Judith, her expression tight with concern. Then she returned to drying her plate.

  There was an awkward silence, and then one of the other girls started chattering about one of her family's goats who had gone off its food last week, but thanks to God's grace and the devotion of her eight-year-old sister, was beginning to recover.

  Putting the last plate away, and making sure the counters were as clean as her mamm would expect to serve a guest, Judith realized that Rachel now saw her as a rival. It was a heady revelation. While Judith certainly didn't consider herself inferior to Rachel, most of the boys clearly fancied the other girl, who had an artful way of looking over her shoulder, the slightest curl escaping her bright blonde braids, as she looked up with eyes as clear and blue as a summer's sky. At school, Rachel had been nicknamed Summer, as much for her sunny disposition as the tempers that flared from her like thunderstorms over the fields.

  Rachel had always been generous, so long as the generosity was acknowledged with liberal praise. In many ways, she'd always seemed a bit unsuitable for plain life, but she clearly flourished within the warm arms of the community, loved and admired by all for her beauty, piety, and cheerful energy. Judith generally found little fault with her. They were simply very different people. But from the moment Rachel had begun to develop, she'd caught all of the boys' eyes. While Judith kept her nose first to her studies, and then to her training at home, Rachel had always found excuses to socialize: delivering her mamm's baking or quilting to all of the local residences with a smile and a cheerful word. Rachel was a favorite, and Judith didn't begrudge the other girl for that. Still, it was odd to be placed, at least for this, in the same category.

  When Judith entered the living room, most of the other youths had already gathered. Isaac's daed was also there. His gaze seemed especially severe when it rested on Judith, an uncharitable thought that Judith immediately tried to suppress. Isaac sat in the middle of the group of boys, laughing and talking. Judith joined the girls, who were whispering amongst themselves. Judith usually sat on the outskirts of these groups, occasionally interjecting a comment when she felt the situation warranted it, which wasn't often. Rachel of course lit up the group. She had an aura that drew everyone to her as she spoke with animation, her fingers punctuating her points with tiny flicks in the air. Though they'd heard it many times before, most of the girls, and at least half of the boys were grinning and laughing at Rachel's anecdote about the recalcitrant sheep that she and her younger sister had been forced to drag in from pasture last year when summer storms had lit the sky and made the air boom and the ground shake.

  Judith stole a glance at Isaac. He was laughing along with the rest, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way Judith found endearing. Annoyed, she wrenched her attention away, instead turning towards Isaac's daed, who was chatting with Caleb. When Caleb caught her gaze, he smiled. Judith returned it, not wanting to be rude.

  After another minute, Isaac's daed stood. In Pennsylvania German he began, “Thank you all for coming tonight, and on such short notice to welcome me and my son. We're grateful to how you have opened your community to us, and I'm looking forward to hearing all of your beautiful voices raised in joyful praise of the Lord.”

  “Amen,” Judith, and a number of the other youths said.

  The sing began. Unlike her brother Samuel, Judith was capable of carrying a tune and often was complimented on her musical ability. She joined her voice with the other girls, singing intensely if not loudly. Rachel, as usual, belted the music out. Her voice was passably pretty, but in her enthusiasm she often drifted from singing to yelling.

  They went through the first set, one person starting a new song when the previous one ended. Judith soon relaxed into the music, her eyes drifting shut as the familiar songs to wash over her. When the first set finished, there was a rush of conversation.

  Judith stood, “Would anyone like something to drink? We have lemonade, cold coffee, and water.”

  Hands raised as the group made requests, and Judith and some of the other girls went to fill them. The sing continued as such for the next hour or so, until the setting sun cast orange glow through the open windows, after which the group broke for dinner fellowship. At this point, th
e rigid segregation of the church service and sing proper began to loosen, as boys and girls, still in their groups, chatted around the table.

  Isaac's daed stayed close at hand, his severe gaze subduing the proceedings to some extent. He had his favorites, though didn't state this explicitly. Instead he steered the conversation towards certain women. Surprisingly, Rachel was no more popular with Jacob than Judith. Instead, it was Fawn and another, plain faced girl named Eve who had a large, rust-red birthmark staining her right cheek.

  Judith tried not to be jealous of the attention that the others were receiving. Judith had been foolish enough to allow herself the hope that when Isaac had said he looked forward to the sing earlier, that he had also meant he looked forward to seeing her.

  It was only as the others began to leave, Judith seeing to the horses and buggies that remained, that Isaac spoke to her at all. “Your mamm hasn't yet returned,” he said in a low voice. They were nominally in clear view of the other young men and women who were leaving, but Judith recognized that Isaac was adhering more to the letter than the spirit of the convention.

  Judith nodded. “She'll be back soon enough, I figure. She needs to describe the men who came to our farm last night to the Englischer police.”

  “Police?”

  “Sofia, the Englischer who was staying with us, was kidnapped by two men. She escaped, but they followed. They're gone now.”

  “Aren't you afraid they'll come back? You shouldn't be here alone.”

  “They were after Sofia,” Judith explained. “And since we're all sworn to nonviolence, the best we can do is lock our doors and pray nothing unfortunate comes to pass.”

  “I'm amazed.”

  “It was a pretty remarkable situation,” Judith said.

  “Nee,” Isaac said. “I'm amazed at you. How can you be so brave?”

  “Brave?” Judith's face heated, and she was grateful that the darkness hid her blush. “[I didn't really do anything.] Besides, it was the rooster that really finished them off. Crotchety old thing.”

  “But you're here now, and you are willing to stay alone, knowing there might be danger out there. You could be killed.”

  “I could die picking corn in a field,” Judith said, pragmatically. “It's not something I try to worry about for too long.”

  “I'll ask my daed, if you don't mind, maybe we can stay in your guest room tonight. You do have a guest room, don't you?”

  “Ja.”

  “You and your sisters shouldn't be alone.”

  It was an incredibly kind gesture. Judith found herself warming to Isaac even more. “Are you sure it's okay? I know your stuff is with the Deacon. I mean, I can lend you some of my brother's clothes.”

  “Danki,” he said. “My daed may not like the impropriety, but it makes more sense to keep you safe.”

  Considering Isaac's daed had sworn an oath under the Ordnung not to commit physical violence against another human being, Judith wasn't so sure how helpful it would be to have him around, but she was eager to have the chance to spend more time with Isaac before he returned to Ephrata. She liked Isaac too well for the short time they'd been acquainted. While she'd always entertained the notion of a husband and children in the abstract, she'd always felt more concrete dedication to her path of education. God had called her to learn, to heal, and when she became a part of the community, she would be able to use the skills of Englischer medicine to help people. By doing that, her daed's death would not have been in vain. Maybe it was pride that gave her this conviction that she was meant for different things than an ordinary marriage and family, but that was what she wanted. And yet, if she was going to be honest with herself, she wanted Isaac too.

  Thankfully, she had enough work facilitating the horses and buggies that she didn't have too much time to wallow in her dilemma. Isaac, however fascinating he might be, would be gone in the morning. She had her own path, and he, his. Still, there wasn't any harm in enjoying his company or conversation, was there?

  Chapter 4

  Judith had set Isaac and her daed up in their second room. There were two narrow beds, one on each wall, with yellow and green quilts atop each. The room had been recently aired, but Judith bustled through, opening the window anyway. Isaac let his gaze linger on her, admiring her calm, determined movements, so different from the overly vivacious cheer of Rachel, the blonde most of the other youths had admired most.

  “I hope you're comfortable here,” Judith said, handing them each a towel, nightshirt and extra toothbrush. “The clothes are my brothers, so they'll be a bit short on you, deacon. I apologize.”

  “Danki,” Jacob said. He smiled as he took the clothes, but beyond that he was silent, leaving Isaac to fill in the gap of conversation.

  Isaac said, “I'm glad you've allowed us to stay, but maybe one of us should sleep downstairs in the living room, just in case.”

  Judith waved that consideration away. “I really don't see any danger. They don't even know Samuel--”

  “Samuel? That is your brother, isn't it?” Jacob latched onto her word. “I thought your mamm said he was away. Surely he hadn't had anything to do with those criminals.”

  Judith's expression froze, and then her lips widened in a smile that didn't touch her eyes. “He left last night.”

  “Leaving you, your mamm and sisters alone?”

  “The danger had passed,” Judith said. “We were fine. My brother didn't do anything wrong.”

  “I didn't claim he had,” Jacob said. “It does seem a bit irresponsible, that's all. Though from what I've heard of your brother, that's not unusual.”

  Judith gripped the clothing tightly. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes narrowed as she looked down at Jacob seated on the bed. “Samuel has many faults,” she said, “But he's never been irresponsible.”

  “I see,” Jacob said. “I had no intention of insulting your brother.”

  Judith took a breath through her nose, and she rolled her shoulders back in a deliberate motion. “Of course not. You're our guests, Mr. Graber. Isaac.” Did her gaze linger a shade longer on his face before she continued? Had her expression softened just the slightest bit? “I didn't mean to snap at you.” She smiled, the expression a shade too tight to be genuine. “My brother is prone to quick actions, and it's often seen as flighty by most. But he's a good man.”

  “Of course,” Jacob said.

  Judith handed him the bundle of clothing and then with a brief good evening, left. When the sound of her footsteps had faded down the hallway, Jacob said, “There's something odd going on in this house.”

  “Odd?” Isaac didn't like the suspicion that rested in his daed's expression. “I mean, the story of the kidnappers is pretty fantastic, but everyone seemed to agree it was truth.”

  “Truth yes,” Jacob nodded. He looked down at the pile of nightclothes and toiletries on his lap. “But is what we've heard the whole of it?”

  Isaac took his toothbrush and nightclothes and walked to the other bed, placing the pile atop his quilt. Once his daed had a suspicion, he'd be at it like a dog with a bone. Isaac hoped that Judith and her family weren't hiding anything, though a family had a right to keep to their own business.

  “I mean, you don't think it odd that her mamm's never remarried?”

  Isaac shrugged.

  “Well, there's something here, something that the Lord must have brought us here to bring to light.” Jacob took a breath and he rested his gaze upon Isaac as though his son had just reentered the room after a long absence. “But enough of these troubling thoughts. What do you think of the young ladies here? There are some I thought quite suitable.”

  Isaac's mouth was dry. The only one he'd had any interest in had been Judith, and he knew better than to mention the girl as a prospect when it was so obvious his daed was both suspicious and a bit scornful of the family. “I think--I hardly had time to speak with anyone.”

  “Yes, speaking is important. But you can tell a lot of a woman's character by her demeanor
and how she presents herself. Like that blonde, the one with the too-loud laugh--”

  “Rachel?”

  “Yes, that is her name. I can't say I'm sure she'd make a suitable wife.”

  Jacob went through the other girls, pointing out their positive qualities in the same dry way one might list the attributes of a horse or cow.

  “Is this how you chose mamm?” Isaac asked when his daed had finished.

  Jacob hesitated. “Your mamm has all of the virtues a man would wish from his wife. I believe God led me to her, ultimately.”

  Isaac smiled. “So you chose with your heart.”

  “Of course--I mean--is there a woman you have your heart set on? I just don't want you to be distracted by a pretty face or flirting eyes. A wife should not be chosen merely for her beauty, but for her faith and dedication to her home, family, and God.”

  Isaac nodded. Yes, he wanted all of those things in a wife. Was it foolish, or too quick, to say that he saw those things in Judith: in the quick and furious way she'd defended her brother, in her dedication to her home, and her desire to better herself, though Isaac didn't really understand what drove her to study in an Englischer school? If that was even what she was doing? He hardly knew her.

  “Think on it son,” Jacob stood. “It's important to me to give you the best opportunity to find a wife that suits you. You should have a chance to experience the wider world, without falling into the Godless, heathen ways of the Englischers.” The fire was back in his eyes. He clutched the bundle of clothing in his arm to his chest. “I may have failed your brother, but I will not fail you.”

  It was rare anymore for Jacob to speak of his eldest son at all. It was like the boy had died, and the family dared not whisper his name even for fear of what damage the ghost of his betrayal might wreak. Isaac wanted to say that Jacob hadn't failed [], that [] had simply chosen a different path, and Jacob was too rigid to understand that or even give the woman that his eldest son had chosen a chance. It wasn't the Amish way to shun someone simply for finding love and a life elsewhere. But Isaac didn't have the strength to confront his daed directly in this way. Isaac had taken after his mamm, preferring compromise, to bend rather than break himself against the iron of his daed's will. In that way, he'd always admired his older brother more. The arguments him and Jacob would get into would have the entire house shaking sometimes with their yelling, but in the end, they'd shared a bond that Isaac had never managed with his daed. Until his older brother had broken away from the family all together.