by Sarah Price
For the first time in weeks, she felt truly at peace with herself. Yes, she thought, indeed everything would work itself out. Her parents would accept her decision, she would live a happy life, and Jake would be a good farmer.
She took the canned goods into the pantry that was under the stairs to set the jars on the shelves. She hadn’t been in there but once before when Jake had taken her to the market right after they were married. The shelves were basically bare but she was quick to organize the glass containers on them. Before she was done, she felt a sense of accomplishment. After Friday, she would certainly have enough jars of applesauce to carry them through the winter and spring. And their own garden was growing some nice beanstalks. She would be able to can those vegetables before long. Soon, the pantry would be filled with food from their own land.
Yes, she thought. Everything was working itself out, indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When the seasons began to change, it was time to plow the fields for planting the winter wheat. Since the field hadn’t been plowed in years, the field had to be mowed first. Jake had purchased a larger mower and a plow for the mules to pull through the fields. Sylvia helped him with the task, walking ahead of him to clear any branches or rocks from the path of the mower. After the field was mowed, they had to collect the clippings, some of which could be used for bedding for the animals. Then it was time to begin plowing. Since Jake hadn’t done this alone before, Sylvia was able to work alongside, helping to direct him and move the mules through the unbroken soil. By the end of September, the field was layered in pretty rows, waiting patiently for the seeds to be planted.
Their days had fallen into a predictable routine that gave Sylvia great comfort. Once a week, they would ride together to the market to pick up supplies. Sometimes they would stop at her parents on the way back. The visits were short but kept Sylvia grounded. She knew that her mother was still not fully accepting of her youngest daughter’s decision but the tension had diminished a little more with each visit. And, despite the disappointment in Sylvia’s decision, Jonas seemed to get along well with Jake, genuinely enjoying his company as did Steve and Daniel. It seemed that they all laughed easier when Jake was around.
The first week of October, when Sylvia and Jake stopped by the visit, Katie and Lillian were sitting around the kitchen table with a pen and paper. Apparently, Steve had finally shared his plans to have the church publish the announcement about betrothal to Emma. The wedding would be held at the Lapp farm during the first week of November on a Thursday afternoon. While Katie had suspected his upcoming wedding for many months and had grown extra food in the family garden, there still was a lot to do in preparation.
Sylvia found herself eager to help, especially since she had not had the benefit of a proper Amish celebration to welcome her own marriage to Jake. It would be wonderful gut to finally get to properly introduce her husband to her community, even if she was never going to officially be a part of it again.
It was about this time when a letter arrived at the farm. Sylvia had picked up the mail from the mailbox. It was usually bills that were addressed to Jake. During their two-month marriage, Jake handled the finances and Sylvia never questioned him about it. Despite his large acquisitions, he never complained about money or the expense of running the farm. Sylvia never even thought to ask. Growing up Amish, her parents had never discussed finances in front of the children and Sylvia always presumed that her father handled that aspect of the family. So it was natural that she merely left the small piles of bills on the counter to let Jake respond as needed.
But this letter was different. It was handwritten and addressed directly to Jake. There was a return address from Connecticut but she couldn’t make out the name. She held the letter in her hands, examining it with curiosity. The handwriting looked like a female might have written it, with the letters having such fancy curves. Who would have written to Jake? Well, she thought to herself, if it’s important, Jake will share it. She tried not to think twice about the letter and left it on the counter where she always left Jake’s mail and went about the day.
It was laundry day so she carried the basket of dirty linens, towels, and clothes out to the barn to use the washing facility. The air was cooler than it had been in weeks passed. She found that she enjoyed the autumn much better than the summer. The leaves were just beginning to turn colors and the air had a crisp feel to it in the mornings. A perfect day for hanging laundry to dry in the sun.
“Sylvia.”
She turned around, startled by Jake standing behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach. It wasn’t unusual for him to sneak up on her. Sometimes he would catch her unaware in his arms, nuzzling her neck and whispering his never-ending love into her ear. Other times, she would find him watching her and, once the familiar blush covered her cheeks, he would laugh at her, teasing her with his eyes.
This time, he stood on the edge of the porch, leaning against the post and staring at her. His lithe body was stretched out, his one boot crossed over the other. His arms were crossed over his chest and he held the letter in one of his hands. Whenever she looked at him, it always caused her a moment of breathlessness. The power of his presence never ceased to overwhelm her. Yet, something was different. The expression on his face was taunt and serious.
“Jake? Is everything OK?”
He pursed his lips for a moment, his eyes falling onto the letter. He seemed to re-read the letter before clearing his throat to answer her. “I have to go home.”
The word struck her as if he had raised a hand to her. Home? she thought. The word had rolled effortlessly off of his lips. He hadn’t thought twice about using the word. She frowned. “What do you mean? This is your home,” she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt.
He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “I mean to Connecticut.”
“Whatever for?” She had never thought about his past beyond what little he had shared with her. She had never asked questions…had never thought to ask questions. In her world, Jake was living in Leola, Pennsylvania and he was her husband. Any world or life from before his move to Leola simply did not exist. But suddenly, she realized that she had been mistaken. She began to feel her pulse race.
“I have some unfinished business that needs my attention, Sylvia.”
“Unfinished business?” The words rolled off of her lips but she didn’t understanding what he meant. She felt light-headed and faint.
“In Connecticut and in New York,” he replied. His voice was strained and she could see the muscles tensing in his jaw.
What type of business could he possibly have back in Connecticut or New York? He had said that he had left his business behind. Now he was telling her that he still had ties to his old life? Business ties meant the possibility of Jake needing to leave Pennsylvania and the cozy life that they were slowly creating. Business ties in another state severed the strength of his roots to Leola. Business ties created a cause for alarm. Suddenly, the past two months of tranquility and peace evaporated.
“I’m going to have to leave you here to tend to the farm,” he said, his voice very matter-of-fact. There was no room to question his directive.
Sylvia chewed on her lower lip. Alone on the farm? To tend to the cows and the horses? She had never been alone before. There was always someone around…her parents, her brothers, her sisters. Alone had meant a long walk through a field but not for days on end. “For how long, Jake?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t say. A week, I suppose. Maybe just a few days. Can’t tell until I get there.”
A week? Sylvia steadied herself against the clothesline. “I see,” she managed to say.
He walked down the porch steps and came to her side. “Are you alright, Sylvia? You look pale.”
She nodded but let him help her toward the porch and into the kitchen. When she was seated at the table, he stood next to her. Beads of sweat were on her forehead, despite the cool temperature of the day. He hurried to the
sink to get her a glass of cool water. When she took it from him, she looked up with concern in her face.
“You never spoke of having ties back there, Jake,” she said softly.
“You never really asked, did you?” he replied, his tone more abrupt and short than she was used to hearing. There was a hard look on his face when he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down. “Look, Sylvia, there are some things that I haven’t shared with you, things that I just can’t talk about yet.”
“I see.” She digested what he had said as quickly as she could. Then, when it dawned on her what it meant, she frowned. “Do you not trust me?”
He shook his head and reached for her hand. “That’s not it, Sylvia.”
“How can you not speak to me if something is bothering you?”
A dark cloud passed over his face. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. “I can’t bring that part of my former life into our world, Sylvia. I told you that it is an ugly world out there. I meant it.”
“Does this have to do with your first wife?”
“Partially, yes.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Don’t fret. I’ll return in no time, dear Sylvia.”
Knowing that he was not going to share any more information with her, she obediently acquiesced. No point in being argumentative, she thought to herself. “Everything will be fine here, Jake. I’m sure that I can handle the chores. If it gets to be too much, I can always ask Steve or Daniel for help, ja?”
Even as the words slipped past her lips, she wasn’t certain that she believed it. How would she ever be able to survive alone? But that was what good Amish wives did…supported decisions made by their husbands. Only she knew that, technically, she was no longer Amish and Jake certainly never had been. She only knew that she had to do what she had been raised to do.
He pressed his hand against her cheek and the softness returned to his expression. “If anyone can handle it, you can, dear Sylvia.”
“When will you leave?”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Tomorrow morning. Right after chores.” He stood up and reached his hand down to help Sylvia to her feet. “You just take it easy while I’m gone. Don’t try to do too much.” He kissed her forehead as if she were a child. “Now, let me go see what needs tending to in the barn before I leave. I want to make certain that you have everything that you need until I return.”
Sylvia hesitated. It was all well and good to tell her to take it easy but that didn’t get the cows milked, animals fed and watered, and stalls cleaned. And, just as important, if he left tomorrow, how would they get the wheat planted? Was that something she should attempt to do? But she didn’t ask. They had some time to plant the seed but, if the window began to shrink, she would have to attempt to do it herself. She just prayed that Jake would return within the week timeframe. In fact, she prayed that Jake would not be enticed by the world he had abandoned.
She had never considered that he would leave her alone on the farm, that he would return to Connecticut or New York. She had taken it for granted that, once married, he would stay with her in Leola, never seeking to leave the comfort of Lancaster County. She fought the empty feeling that grew in her core. She had to believe in God that he would return and their lives would continue as they had for the past few months.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sylvia sat on the front porch, watching the sunset behind the barn. She was exhausted and she was thankful that the evening chores were finished. All she wanted to do was to crawl into bed and sleep. Her body ached, her hands were callused, and she felt weak from all of the work that she had done in the past days. Every day, she had risen at five to take care of the animals. It took her much longer since she had to do it by herself. By the time she was finished with milking, feeding, and cleaning, it was almost nine o’clock. There were mornings when she was too weary to make herself a decent breakfast. It didn’t make sense to cook for one, she reasoned. So, a simple piece of toast and cup of black coffee satisfied her until noon.
After breakfast, she would tidy up the house. But, being that it was just her living there, she didn’t have as much to clean. It was amazing how much cleaner the house was when only one person lived in it. She tried to keep to the same schedule that she had before Jake had left. She did laundry on Tuesday and Friday, baked bread on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. The only difference was that on that Sunday, she stayed by herself in the house, reading the Bible and resting as much as she could.
By the time that the first week rolled into the second week, she was in despair. She had not received any letters from Jake and, without a telephone, there was no way to get in touch with him. Even if she could, she wouldn’t know where to call. The isolation concerned her, especially as each night rolled into a new day without any word from her husband.
She was embarrassed to visit with her parents. They would be alarmed if they knew that Jake had left her alone with so much responsibility. They might even insist that she return to their farm. It was unheard of for an Amish woman to be left alone on a farm for such a long period of time. But Sylvia didn’t want to stay with her parents. She had promised Jake that she would hold the farm together, take care of the animals, and be there when he returned. But the days dragged on and the nights were increasingly lonely. She even cried herself to sleep one night and woke up, ashamed of herself for being so selfish for wishing that Jake had never left.
By the middle of the second week, she knew that she would have to visit her parents’ farm. She had promised to help with the preparation for Steve’s wedding. And she needed help with the wheat planting. She was afraid to wait much longer and needed advice from her father. So, knowing that she could no longer avoid visiting her parents, she finished her morning chores on Wednesday before setting out on the road, walking toward her parents’ farm.
The air was crisp and cool. She was glad that she had worn a heavier shawl as the dark clouds in the sky promised no Indian summer for that day. The weather matched her mood. She had hoped Jake might return early. To tell her parents would be very hard for Sylvia. She could imagine their reaction and it pained her. To be newly married and have her husband leave her alone? It was shameful. Perhaps she should have insisted on going with him.
“Well hullo Sylvia!” Steve called out from the mule shed. He jogged a few paces to catch up with her. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Thought you and Jake might stop down last week.”
She bit her lip but didn’t say anything about Jake. “Promised Mamm that I’d help with your wedding.”
“A week from Thursday, ja!” he said, smiling proudly. He accompanied her to the house and opened the door for her. “Sure am glad you came over. Mamm needs the help,” he said.
Inside, Lillian and Katie were sitting at the table, making long lists of what was needed for Steve’s wedding celebration the following week. They looked up and saw Sylvia. For a moment, they seemed relieved. But, as Katie stood and approached Sylvia, drying her hands on her apron, her expression changed.
“You ill, Sylvia?”
She shook her head. “No, Mamm. Just tired.”
Katie took her arm and moved her toward the sofa that was in the back of the large kitchen. “I can see that. Sit for a spell. Where’s Jake?”
Sylvia tried to avoid the question. “I walked over. While the weather’s so nice,” she explained.
“I see,” Katie said but her voice didn’t sound convincing.
Lillian came over and sat next to Sylvia. She, too, had a concerned look on her face. “Well, we can always use the help. But you can relax for a few minutes. You look winded.”
“And pale,” Steve added.
Katie shooed him out of the kitchen, telling him to leave the women to the women’s work. Begrudgingly, he did as he was told. Once he was gone, Katie turned her attention back to her daughter. “Been busy on the farm, ja? Planting that wheat?”
Sylvia tried to smile. “I need to speak
to Daed about that. But that can wait. I wanted to find out how I could help with the preparations for Steve’s wedding celebration.” She took a deep breath. “Just let me know where to start.”
It felt good to spend time at her mother’s. Lillian was always cheerful and good-natured. She seemed to have countless amounts of energy. And her stories about the children were entertaining and helped to distract Sylvia from her troubles and concerns. She was amazed that Linda had just started her first year of school. It seemed like just yesterday she was running around barefoot in the yard as she chased the spring kittens. But she was almost seven now and that meant school. Lillian’s other children were napping so that had given her time to help her mother-in-law.
When it was time for dinner, Jonas came into the kitchen, stomping his feet as usual. He greeted his daughter with a friendly smile. “I heard the wind blew in a little bird from down the lane,” he teased. He went to the sink to wash his hands. As he dried his hands, he turned around and saw Sylvia for the first time. A look of concern crossed his face. “You looking tired, Sylvia. You getting ill?”