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

by Ruth Price

  In an ideal world, Isaac would find his brother, bring him home and insist that the two work out their problems. But Isaac wasn't strong enough for that. He'd always had his brother to fight his battles, and his daed to show them the proper way to live. Now, lacking the first, he allowed himself to be dragged along by the second, no matter his own wishes. So instead of stating his interest in Judith, Isaac simply busied himself with taking off his boots as his daed went down the hall.

  Better to wait. Better to be silent. Alone in the room, the hollowness of his compromise stifled, but it was the path he'd always followed.

  Chapter 5

  Exhausted, Judith was asleep well before her mamm returned home. The rooster woke her before dawn, as usual. She rubbed her eyes, her mouth dry and tasting terrible. It was prideful, but she didn't want Isaac to see her in this state, so she made an effort to smooth her hair, and then peeked out the door in order to check and see if the guests had awakened yet. Only Mary was out. She turned when Judith's door creaked upon opening and whispered loudly with delight. “You're awake!”

  Had Judith been this energetic in the mornings at Mary's age? Judith smiled, and joined her sister. “I'm no good before coffee,” Judith said.

  “Ja. Ja. You and mamm. And it tastes so awful!”

  Judith couldn't argue with that. She always had to dump in a lot of cream and sugar just to take the edge off, still, better that than sleepy.

  “Well, take care to bring in the eggs so we can make a good breakfast,” Judith told Mary, when her sister finished brushing her teeth. “I'll be frying.”

  Judith had just finished getting dressed, perhaps taking a bit too much care with her braids than was necessary, when the guests began to stir. It was Miriam's day for the milking, which Judith would generally help out with but since her mamm had come in very late, Judith doubted she was awake yet this morning to do the cooking, so Judith decided to start that instead. The sun had begun to rise, an orange glow touching the horizon when Judith took a breath to steady herself and went to the kitchen to start heating up the breakfast.

  Mary skipped in as Judith turned on the oven to warm the bread, a basket hanging from her elbow. “I got fifteen eggs!”

  Judith smiled and ruffled her sister's hair. “That's wonderful! Put them up here, gently, so they don't crack. We'll have plenty for the guests.” Once Mary had done this, and Judith checked the eggs to make sure none were cracked, she said, “Now run and check on Miriam. She's going to need a hand with the milk.”

  Mary nodded vigorously and dashed back outside.

  Judith took out a large metal bowl and a whisk. She liked cooking. There was a precision to doing it efficiently, for using the right spices to call the taste from the food. The measuring and mixing reminded her of the science labs she occasionally had in her high-school equivalency classes. Mary and Miriam came a bit later, hauling jugs of fresh milk. Judith took a small amount to put in the eggs to make them fluffy as well as some for the coffee, and directed them to put the rest in the ice-box they kept in the back shed attachment to the house.

  Two pans were sizzling with eggs and scrapple when Esther came down the stairs. “Judith, dear, this smells lovely.”

  Judith smiled. “How was the police station?”

  “Loud,” Esther said, “But we've got Sofia sorted. Crying shame she has a fiancé though. Abram was crushed, though he was trying not to show it in that way he has.”

  “Sofia is engaged!” Judith was shocked, and sorely disappointed. It had seemed obvious to her that there was affection and regard between the Englischer girl and Abram, though of course Sofia couldn't be faulted for what attachments she might have formed when she'd lost her memories.

  “And our guests?” Esther asked. “How was the Sing?”

  “Good,” Judith said. “It was kind of Mr. Graber to supervise.”

  “Well, I'm sure he found it a fine opportunity for his son to meet young people his own age. The Deacon is here for the week to speak with the Bishop about...well to be honest, I don't know what about, but I expect young Isaac will be at somewhat loose ends.”

  “I'll help as I can,” Judith volunteered. “Though I will be working tonight and have classes in the afternoon.”

  “Can't you skip the classes, considering?”

  “I must go to the CPR training on Tuesday. I'll learn the Englischer way of keeping a person alive until they can be seen by a doctor.”

  Mr. Graber and Isaac walked in, dressed in yesterday's clothing. “Good morning, Mrs. Hershberger,” the deacon said. Isaac smiled at her, and Judith lost the train of her thought for a moment.

  Esther returned the greeting, and then said to Judith, “It seems like a lot of Englischer concerns. Is it right to hold a person to this life if God has determined it’s their time to go?”

  “This isn't like keeping a person alive on machines after their soul has passed on,” Judith explained, her voice rising in her enthusiasm. “It's just to keep the heart and blood moving so that they can be treated at a hospital. Something anyone can do, if trained properly. Imagine if--” she cut herself off, not wanting to remind her mamm of daed's death, and the helplessness they'd both felt as they lost him, especially not in front of company. “It's useful to know, that's all.”

  “I would love to learn how to do that,” Isaac said. “It sounds remarkable.”

  Overjoyed at Isaac's enthusiasm, Judith clapped her hands together. “Why don't you come with me? I can talk to my teacher today and see if there's room. Even if you can only watch, it would still be--”

  “Son, are you sure this is wise?” Mr. Graber said. “I was also hoping to introduce you to Amos, a local carpenter, so you could learn some of his techniques for crafting chair legs.”

  “Oh, Amos is never in on Tuesdays,” Judith said. “He's helping his wife at the market, since she's so far along with child. I think he'd rather her stay home, but she refuses, and knows better than to argue.”

  The deacon's expression grew more closed off, and he pressed his lips together.

  “Please daed,” Isaac asked. “If there's room for me in the class?”

  “A boy's Rumspringa is his own business,” Esther said. “My Judith with see to it that he comes to no harm. She's a good and godly girl.”

  From the tension in Mr. Graber's face, Judith wondered if the older man agreed that Judith was such a paragon of virtue, but he gave a curt nod, “Provided you are able to manage your other responsibilities,” he said. “And for the sake of propriety--”

  Esther interrupted, her expression closed off as she stared up at Mr. Graber. “Annie Yoder always contracts a car for the market on Mondays and Tuesdays. My Judith travels with her and her family. There should also be room for your son, and Judith, since you're not working at the hospital tonight.”

  “Ja!” Judith exclaimed, unable to keep herself from bouncing on her toes, just once, in her delight. She was acting like Samuel, she realized, and tried to calm herself down. She was hardly projecting an aura of Godly virtue, prancing about like a child. “Mamm,” Judith said, looking over to Esther. “Shall I get the plates and set the table for breakfast?”

  Esther nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Why don't you help our guests get settled?” She turned her attention to the two men, “When will the Deacon be coming with his buggy to retrieve the both of you, did he say?”

  “At some point this morning,” Mr. Graber said. “Of course, if there's any help my son or I can offer while we await them, you've only to ask. It must be difficult, having no men in the house.”

  “We manage,” Esther said.

  Judith let their conversation wash over her as she set the plates and silver. Mary ran in when she was halfway done with stack of napkins. If it wasn't for the guests, they'd probably be having breakfast standing in the kitchen, before breaking off into their separate tasks, Esther training Miriam in how to run the household, Judith helping around the house before she had to gather her school supplies in order to join An
nie's group, stopping in Lancaster proper to drop her off for her classes before heading onwards to Philadelphia.

  They each took their places at the table, the two men opposite the women as best they could manage with the limited chairs. Isaac's daed sat at Esther's right hand, Isaac at his other side. Ideally, Judith would have seated herself next to Isaac, but Mary slipped herself in at the empty chair, so Judith sat herself across from him, Miriam across from Isaac's daed. They prayed, and then began to eat. Judith took care to pour coffee for all who wanted it at first, leaving her cup for last. Because Miriam had made it, the coffee was too strong, and Judith dosed it liberally with cream and sugar before she took her first, jarring, sip.

  Isaac swallowed his coffee, quickly following it with a large forkful of scrapple, and Judith did her best to hide her amusement as he glanced at her, his lips twitching at her apparent mirth. “This scrapple is delicious,” Isaac said. “It's spiced about as well as mamm's, isn't it daed?”

  “It's not polite to make such comparisons, son,” Jacob said, but he did take a second slice.

  “Judith made it,” Esther said. “She's a wonderful cook, though she has little attention for sewing beyond the basics.”

  Judith shot her mamm a glare, but Esther's expression was so bland as to have the ire soak in, as the fields drank in the rain.

  As they slowed in their eating, Mary started asking Isaac questions about Ephrata. Judith listened, grateful for her little sister's gregariousness, and pleased at the way Isaac handled it, responding to each question with kindness and respect.

  He will make an excellent daed, Judith thought, but instead of bringing joy, the thought left her empty. By the time she had finished her Englischer high-school classes and returned from her Englischer college, Isaac would be married and have kinner of his own. She'd always thought of this in the abstract. She would simply postpone her life for a while, as Samuel had done, and when she returned, she'd be able to continue on as an Amish woman. But it wasn't as though men and women her age would simply remain as they were, in stasis, while she went off and pursued her dreams. No, they too would move forward, growing proficient in their own trades, marrying and having kinner, and building their own lives.

  No matter what path Judith chose, she would lose something. Until this moment, she hadn't truly understood. When the food had been served and eaten, silver scraping empty plates as Sweet Potato mopped her egg-drippings up with a hunk of warmed bread and butter as she did every morning, Judith's former excitement at having Isaac along had settled into melancholy.

  Dear God, she prayed, staring at the yellow line running the rim her empty plate, what do you want of me?

  Isaac's daed set his fork down. “You have a lovely home,” he said.

  “Danki,” Esther nodded.

  “But what of your son? I've heard, troubling things, about his absence.”

  “He is on Rumspringa,” Esther said, her tone ice. “He will return.”

  “I see.”

  “Is there anything else we can offer you to eat?” Esther asked, and while she smiled, the question seemed more like a statement than an offer of hospitality.

  Isaac looked at his daed, Judith, and then Esther before settling his gaze on his plate again. “I'm fine,” he said. “It was wonderful!”

  “Ja,” Jacob said.

  “Miriam, why don't you gather the plates? The other girls can help you.”

  Judith nodded. As the three of them cleared the table, Esther guided the two men to the living room. When they'd gone, Miriam whispered, “The nerve of him, insulting Samuel like that.”

  Judith nodded. “I think Isaac's daed is very strict.”

  “Well, I'll be happy to see the back of him.” Miriam gathered the stack of plates, and putting the forks atop with more gusto than was necessary, carried them to the kitchen. Judith followed with the used napkins, depositing them in the trash. She was glad she hadn't mentioned Mr. Graber's suspicions from the night before. While Samuel's actions had been ill-advised, he'd done nothing wrong, and it wasn't Mr. Graber's business anyway. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't be excited to spend more time with Isaac, or that Isaac was actually interested in learning CPR.

  Tuesday couldn't come soon enough. Once Judith had finished putting the dishes away, she allowed herself the chance to check in on the guests in the living room. Isaac's daed was on the couch, a Bible in his lap, reading. Isaac sat beside him. Cupped in his hands was a small, brown volume. Walt Whitman’s, “Leaves on Grass.” Judith's breath caught at the seeing her daed's favorite book of poems in Isaac's hands. Judith had thumbed through the book so many times, the corners were black with smudged ink, and the words settled in her mind as deeply as her favorite psalms. She swallowed, her throat large and sore, like she'd caught a cold.

  Judith must have moved, squeaked her foot over the floor or something, because Isaac looked up. “Is this yours?” he asked.

  “It was my daed's.”

  “Oh! I'm sorry--” He closed the book, looking flustered, and held it out to her.

  “No, please,” Judith said. “You should read it. I mean, I'm happy you are.”

  Jacob looked up. His gaze rested on the pair of them, and the lines around his mouth deepened as his lips turned downwards.

  “Is there anything I can get for you?” Judith asked quickly. “Something to drink?”

  “We're fine,” Jacob said. “No need to mind us. You surely have work with which to occupy yourself.”

  “Yes, sir,” Judith said. With one last glance at Isaac, she left.

  Chapter 6

  Jacob kept Isaac busy the next afternoon, first helping their host family in the fields and then the next day securing time for Isaac to work with Amos, acknowledged as the most skilled hand carpenter in the district.

  Amos was a large, cheerful man with a bulbous nose and wide hazel eyes with thick brown lashes a woman would envy. He had a bit of a belly, but with his sleeves rolled up, his arms were massive trunks of corded muscle. He greeted Jacob and Isaac with a smile, towering half a head taller even than Jacob with a wide grin as he extended his massive hand to shake. His grip was well controlled, leaving no doubt of the strength of his hands while at the same time making it clear that he had chosen not to use the slightest hint more than necessary.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  Jacob and Isaac returned the greeting, Jacob following up with, “If you don't mind taking care of my son, I have business with the Bishop. Deacon Hilty's going to give me a ride over on his buggy. I should be back before dark.”

  “Ja, sounds good. I look forward to working with your son. I read the letter you gave me from Mark, whose been teaching him the past two years.” Amos directed his gaze towards Isaac. “He says you’re an earnest boy with lots of talent.”

  “Danki,” Isaac said. He'd never thought of himself talented or not, though he did try to work the wood with the seriousness is warranted. He'd come to love working with wood, the feel of it beneath his fingers, the attention to detail in measuring and fitting pieces together, and the creativity of implementing his own ideas, albeit within the strict framework of Mark's designs. “I hope I'm soon trusted to make my own pieces,” he said.

  “I expect you will be, soon enough,” Amos said. “Come with me.”

  Amos led him through the house to an attachment at the back where he had his own workshop. It had been built with coolness in mind with large doors at the north and south sides that swung out to capture any breeze that might pass through the workshop. It was sunny, and Amos had two partially finished chairs outside, which he lead Isaac to look at while at the same time giving the younger boy a thorough quizzing of what he had already been taught. Isaac had always had an excellent memory as well as facility with his hands, so he had little problem answering Amos's questions, and soon the older man had put him to some light sanding work while he discussed the intricacies of function and design.

  After about half an hour, his oldest daughter, a
girl of sixteen with large brown eyes and a quiet demeanor which Jacob had praised mightily came in. “Mamm asked me to ask you if you wanted something to drink?”

  “Some of your mamm's lemonade would go down a right treat,” Amos said with a booming laugh.

  “Ja,” Isaac seconded. He'd been so absorbed in his work, he hadn't recognized the dryness in his mouth or how the sweat had blossomed from his skin, staining the front of his shirt.

  Fawn smiled at them both, and bustled out of the room.

  “So, son,” Amos said, gesturing Isaac towards one of the workman's benches. “Your daed seems to think you've got eyes for some of the young ladies here.”

  “Young--young ladies.” It was like Isaac's face had caught fire, he was so embarrassed. He stared down at his boots. “I haven't--I mean--”

  Amos burst out laughing again. “It's fine, young man.” He clapped Isaac on the shoulder firmly enough to make the younger man cough. “I just wanted to let you know, if you're thinking to look to my Fawn, she's only got eyes for Hezekiah's Jacob, who everyone calls Beanie because we've got about six too many Jacobs in this crop of kinner.”

  “I haven't...I mean your daughter is lovely but--”

  “Oh-ho, who is the lucky lady then?”

  “I don't...”