by Emma Miller
He sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead. “Ne, I don’t care about what others think. God knows what I have or have not done. But—” His voice cracked. “I... I overheard the men talking about it after services. My father was among them and he spoke up.”
“For you?”
“Ne, wife. Not for me. For the tradition. For the way we choose our preachers and deacons. He said that they should trust in the process because God would not choose me because of my sin.”
Eve’s breath caught and it took her a moment to find her voice. “Oh, Levi,” she murmured. She glanced at the window that reflected the light from the oil lamp beside the bed. She looked back at him. “This is all because of me. Because I disobeyed my father and got myself into trouble.”
He lifted his hand in a tired gesture. “See, that’s why I didn’t tell you. Because you’d say it was your fault.”
“Because it is!” she responded in frustration. “I made a terrible mistake with terrible costs, and you offered to marry me to protect me. You saved me, Levi.”
He lowered his gaze to the floor again.
She sighed. “You have to tell him,” she said, her voice calm again. “You have to tell your father and Rosemary what happened to me. Why you married me. And you have to tell our bishop, too. He’ll know what to do about the gossip.”
“Ne, ne, Eve.” Levi shook his head again and again. “I told you I would never speak to anyone of how we came to be husband and wife. I will not speak a word of this to our bishop. As to my father, if he doesn’t know me better than this, then—” He exhaled sharply. “Ne,” he repeated again. “I will not do it.” Then he reached around her and grabbed the pillow, blanket and sheet he’d been using for his pallet on the floor from the end of the bed.
Before Eve could protest, he was out the door, closing it behind him.
Eve brought her hands to her face, near to bursting into tears. Instead, she took a couple of deep breaths and lowered herself to her knees. Clasping her hands together, she rested her elbows on the bed, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed fervently to God. Because if she didn’t do something, she feared the marriage she thought could be possible would never come to be.
“Dear Gott, what do I do?” she whispered. “How do I make this right for my husband? How do I save my marriage?”
And God’s response came to her as loud and clear in her head as if He had been in the room.
* * *
Levi did not return to their bedroom, but Eve slept surprisingly well that night. In the morning, she rose before anyone else in the family, just as the sun was washing the day in all of its glory. Wearing her favorite blue dress, her hair tucked neatly in a bun under her kapp, she went down to the kitchen and put two large percolators of coffee on the gas stove. When it was ready, she poured a cup black, the way Levi liked it, and went in search of him.
Eve located her husband in a tiny bedroom on the second floor that was used for storage. When she pushed open the door, she found him asleep in his clothes, curled up on some old sleeping bags on the floor.
“Levi?” she whispered. When he didn’t respond, she leaned over and touched his shoulder gently. “Levi, wake up. It’s morning.”
He rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. He looked at her, then the single window where sunlight poured in, then at her again.
“Best you get up before anyone else finds you here,” she said. Then she set his cup of coffee beside him on the floor and walked out of the room before he had a chance to respond.
By the time Tara arrived downstairs, Eve had three baking sheets of bacon in the oven and was mixing up ingredients for blueberry muffins. Lovey had sent an entire bucket of blueberries over the day before, and while most would be frozen for use later, there was nothing better than fresh blueberries in a muffin.
“You’re up early,” Tara said, going to the dish cabinet to begin setting the table. “Are you all right?”
Standing at the kitchen counter, Eve took a deep breath. Was she all right?
She was.
Because her prayer had been answered. Because she knew what she had to do. And she knew it was the right thing.
“Ya, I’m goot.” Eve smiled at Tara and shrugged. “I woke early, so I thought I’d get a start on breakfast.”
“Sorry I slept in,” Tara said. Then she whispered, “I was up late reading a book Chloe gave me. It’s a romance.” She grinned.
Eve cut her eyes at Tara but said nothing. Whether Tara’s parents would approve of her reading choice wasn’t her concern. At least it wasn’t today. As her mother had always said, she had bigger fish to fry.
Eve returned to the task at hand, adding baking powder to the dry ingredients. Once the flour, salt and leavening were properly mixed, she would fold in the wet ingredients. She would mix it just until the flour and such were wet, paying no attention to a few lumps. Then she would add the blueberries, continuing to gently stir so as not to make the muffins tough. Once they were in greased tins, they would have fresh blueberry muffins in half an hour.
Levi managed to arrive at the breakfast table just in time for the silent prayer of thanks. He sat beside Eve the entire meal, not looking at her or anyone else. If anybody noticed, they didn’t speak up.
The family laughed and teased as they ate, often talking over one another. Eve tried to keep up with every conversation, but as usual, it was near impossible. Bay went on about a new type of poinsettia plant that was growing well in the greenhouse. Benjamin complained about the cost of shipping for items he had to order for the harness shop, and Jesse told a long story about a goat that seemed to go nowhere and arrived at no conclusion. James and Josiah managed to each spill their milk not once, but twice over the course of the meal. It was a typical breakfast.
Levi spoke to Eve a couple of times during the meal, and not unkindly. She could tell he was upset with himself about their disagreement the night before, but he didn’t say anything more than to ask her to pass the butter or another blueberry muffin. When everyone scattered after breakfast, Levi lingered in the mudroom, fussing with his hat. It seemed as if he wanted to speak with Eve privately, but she gave him no mind. She knew she had to take matters into her own hands, and that was what she intended to do.
When everyone had set off on their day’s business, including Levi, who would be working in his shop today, Eve helped Tara clean up. Tara chattered as they went about their familiar tasks, talking about plans to go with her friend Chloe to pick sunflowers in a neighbor’s field that afternoon.
When the kitchen was at last ret up, Eve hung the damp dish towels on the handles of the stove and asked Tara, “Do you know where your mam is?”
Tara was moving food around in the open refrigerator, taking stock to be sure everything was on the grocery list for shopping the following day. “In her sewing room, I think. James tore the knees out of another pair of pants.” She rolled her eyes.
Eve chuckled and walked out of the kitchen. She followed a long hallway to the open door of Rosemary’s sewing room. She heard the steady sound of a treadle sewing machine coming from inside, and she took a deep breath. If she was going to do this, now was the time. She took a deep breath, said a silent prayer and knocked on the doorframe. “Rosemary?”
The sound of the sewing machine paused. “Ya! Come in.”
Eve walked into the room to see Rosemary seated at her Singer sewing machine. The sound began again as Levi’s stepmother used both feet to pump the treadle and eased the seam of a small pair of navy trousers through the needle.
“Almost done. Just two more seams,” Rosemary said above the click, click sound measured out by the rhythm of her feet.
“No hurry,” Eve answered, gazing around. Rosemary had invited her to use the sewing machine anytime and, on several occasions, she’d spent a comfortable afternoon here. Besides the blue dress she had made, she’d also sewn h
erself a second nightgown and a pale green work shirt for Levi. She was presently working on a black wool coat for her husband to wear to church when it grew colder. The one currently hanging on a hook in their bedroom was threadbare at the cuffs and missing a hook and eye, and he had admitted sheepishly that he had been wearing it since before his family moved to Hickory Grove.
Nearly square, the sewing room was painted a pale blue with two large windows with a blue, white and yellow rag rug in the middle of the floor. There were two rocking chairs placed side by side where sisters, or mother and daughter, or mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, could sit and knit. One wall boasted an oversize walnut cabinet that looked like it had come from an old millinery shop. Eve recognized the style from one she had seen displayed in a Lancaster fabric store once. Open drawers in Rosemary’s cabinet revealed various sizes of thread, needles, scissors and paper patterns. A small knotty pine table with turned legs stood between the windows, and in its center was a big terra-cotta planter filled with flowers.
Tara had told Eve that her mother changed the flowers with the seasons. While there were multicolored zinnias blooming in it now, this fall, there would be white or gold chrysanthemums. In December, Rosemary would replace the mums with poinsettias, and after Epiphany, it would be filled with herbs like rosemary and tarragon to be used in winter soups and stews. When Tara had told Eve this, she had giggled. Her mother’s naming of her daughters had been unusual for an Amish woman, she had admitted. And then she had gone on to explain. Tara was named after the herb tarragon. Her sister Nettie’s name was actually Nettle, Bay’s was Bay Laurel and her oldest sister, Lovey, was Lovage.
“Ach,” Rosemary cried as she ceased pumping the treadle. “One seam left to go, and the thread breaks in the needle.” She raised her hands as if in surrender. “Always happens, doesn’t it?” She turned on the bench where she sat to look at Eve and fell silent for a moment. “What’s troubling you, Eve? I can see it on your face.”
Eve clasped her hands and looked down at her clean, bare feet. Suddenly, she was unsure of herself. Was this a mistake to come to Rosemary? Was it wrong to go against her husband’s wishes? The husband was the head of the family. Some believed that as his wife, she was required to obey him.
“Let me guess. This has something to do with that dejected look on Levi’s face that we saw at the breakfast table.” Rosemary got to her feet. “And my stubborn husband.”
Eve slowly lifted her gaze, steeling herself so that she wouldn’t cry. “Ya.”
“Then tell me, but first, I think you need a hug. Then you should sit down and unburden yourself.” Rosemary smiled kindly. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you feel you can come to me, Eve.”
Eve’s voice trembled a little when she spoke. “Levi wouldn’t like it if he knew I was here. He... He thinks this is between him and Benjamin.”
“Ya.” Rosemary planted her hands on her hips. “But we’ve left it up to those two for the hind part of two months, haven’t we? And have they settled it? They have not. So it’s time we women had a hand it.” She opened her arms. “Come on. Let me give you a hug, Dochter. You look as if you need it.”
Eve hesitated, then stepped closer and allowed Rosemary to hug her. “This is all my fault,” she told Rosemary, fighting against tears again. Her mother-in-law’s arms felt good around her and she hugged her back. “Levi is such a good man and I’ve ruined his life.”
Rosemary clasped Eve’s shoulders and leaned back to look into her eyes. “Ne, you have made his life. And life has its hills and valleys. Now come and sit with me and tell me what’s weighing on your heart. Because I have to tell you, I’ve about had enough of this quarrel with these men of ours. They’re bringing disharmony to our home and heartburn to Benjamin’s stomach.”
Rosemary smiled with amusement and Eve couldn’t help but smile back.
So she and Rosemary sat side by side and Eve told her story. She started with the charming Jemuel Yoder at the market and barely took a breath until she finished with her and Levi’s wedding day. Throughout the story, Rosemary listened patiently, asking questions occasionally and patting Eve’s knee when her voice trembled.
When she was done, Eve took a deep breath and slid farther into the rocking chair. She was so short that only her toes touched the floor when she sat all the way back.
“Oh, my poor dear,” Rosemary said when Eve fell silent. “I’m so sad about everything you’ve been through.” She reached out and squeezed Eve’s hand. “And thankful that God brought you to us. You’re truly a blessing to this family.”
Eve took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think Levi feels that way right now.”
“And why do you say that?” Rosemary asked pointedly. “Has Levi said that to you?”
Eve thought before she answered. “He has not. He... He promised to protect my secret. He said he would never tell anyone about Jemuel. About my father.”
Rosemary smiled kindly. “That’s our Levi. A kind, admirable man. A good man.”
“He is a good man,” Eve said, twisting a bit of her apron between her fingers. “I don’t deserve him.”
“Nonsense,” Rosemary responded. “Do you love him?” Her question was pointed. “Or at least do you think you can love him in time? I’m not talking about the girlish, giggling kind of love. I’m talking about the deep love that binds us all of our days.”
“He doesn’t love me.”
Rosemary gave a little laugh. “I suspect he does. Whether he knows it or not, that’s why this has been so hard for him. That’s why he can’t ask you to let him tell his father why you married.” She took Eve’s hand. “And you didn’t answer my question. Do you love Levi?”
The warmth of Rosemary’s hand gave Eve the strength to respond with honesty. “I do love him. And that’s why I have to make this right.” She went on faster. “I can’t stand having his father think he committed a sin he didn’t commit. Nor his community. And I can’t have our bishop and our congregation believing that, either,” she added firmly.
Both women were silent for a moment. Then Eve said, “I want to talk to Bishop Simon. I want to tell him everything. Will you take me?”
Rosemary squeezed Eve’s hand and got up from her rocking chair. She paced one way across the sewing room and then the other. “Are you certain about this?” she asked. “You have the right—you and Levi have the right—to keep this to yourselves.”
Eve set her jaw. “I’m certain.”
“And are you certain this isn’t because you want Levi to be a preacher? Some women, especially young women, think it makes them more important in the community. To have a husband who serves as preacher or deacon.”
Eve drew back in horror. “Why would I want my husband to spend long hours away from me, planning his sermons, making visits with the bishop and deacon, always having the responsibility of the church on his shoulders? I don’t know if Levi is supposed to be a preacher.” She got to her feet. “That’s up to God. But I want Bishop Simon to know that Levi Miller is a Godly man. And I want Benjamin to know the truth about his son.”
Rosemary came to a rest in front of Eve. “And you’ve really thought this through?” she asked, looking into Eve’s eyes.
“Ya. I’ve thought for weeks that it was the right thing to do, and then when Levi’s name came up at church, I knew...” She glanced away and then back to Rosemary. “I prayed on it and God answered me,” she said, half-afraid Rosemary wouldn’t believe her. Who was she, a plain little wren of a woman, to hear God’s voice?
Rosemary took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose a trip to Bishop Simon’s place is in order,” she declared, walking to the sewing room door.
Eve felt a moment of panic. “What? Now?”
“Ya, now. No time like the present, and if we go now, we can still be back in time to get dinner on the table.”
And so they did. Eve was surprised
how easy Bishop Simon was to talk to. Over a glass of lemonade on his front porch, in Rosemary’s presence, she spilled out the whole story, and with it her tears of regret as well as hope.
The bishop thanked Eve for coming to him and told her again and again what a fine wife she was and what a good life God had in store for her and Levi. Then he instructed her to say nothing to Levi or Benjamin. To leave the matter to him. He told Eve and Rosemary that he needed to pray on the matter and that he would be by their farm in the next couple of days.
So Eve waited, busying herself with canning tomatoes and beets and making pickles with Tara, and trying not to dream of a life with Levi and a houseful of little ones.
Chapter Twelve
Levi was giving a piece of trim work for the dashboard a final sanding when, from the window in his shop, he spotted the bishop’s buggy pulling in. His first thought, childishly, was to slip into the warren of halls and rooms his father had constructed in the old barn and hide until Bishop Simon gave up looking for him and went home.
But even if he avoided Simon today, Levi couldn’t hide from him forever. And he couldn’t hide from the decision he had made when he offered to marry Eve and promised to never tell anyone why. So if the bishop asked Levi his side of the story, Levi would tell him nothing. He would not sacrifice his vow to his wife, not even to defend his own morality. And that would be that. The bishop would say Levi left him no choice but to remove his name from the list of preacher candidates. And that would be that.
Levi didn’t really want to be a preacher anyway. It was a lot of work that took a man away from family and work, often causing financial consequences. And being a preacher, responsible for speaking God’s word to His people, was a heavy burden on a man’s soul. Levi didn’t feel he had a calling to stand up in front of a congregation and preach God’s word. He had been as surprised as anyone when his name had come up, not once but three times.