Because of the late hour he was able to find a spot right in front of the nearly empty train station. He jogged into the building, searching for Sadie.
She sat on a wooden bench, under an old-fashioned globe that cast a halo of light around her white prayer kapp. As she spotted him and arose, she resembled an angel. A fierce, earnest angel.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s get you where you need to be.”
As he stowed her backpack in the backseat, he could see that she was on edge. Tired and a little shaky.
“I’m sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night,” she said.
“Hey, I’m glad you called. I want to be your go-to guy.”
The breath caught in her throat, and suddenly her amber eyes filled with tears.
Something ground deep inside him. He liked to see himself as a fixer, but some things were beyond his control.
“It was a big mistake, trusting Frank. You know I wanted to help the band, and that’s why I agreed to stay. But Frank … he let me down. I should have known.”
“Hey, how could you know?” She was too kind to see that Frank Marconi was a complete and utter jerk, Mike thought. He had smelled a rat when Frank had pushed to extend the tour, but he had let Sadie make her own decisions. Long ago he had realized that she wanted it that way. She had left her Amish life because she needed her independence, and Mike could respect that. He could give her space and freedom because he loved her.
“And now … now I’m going to be late for the birthday song! Just because of my own stupid decisions! I made a promise and … I …”
“Easy.” Mike cradled her and rocked her gently, overcome by the love he felt for the woman in his arms. If he had his way, he would never let her go … but right now she had a promise to keep.
“There was nothing stupid about your decision. You are one of the most thoughtful, caring people I know. You’re also one of the bravest, to leave your family and the only life you’ve ever known to explore the wonderful talent that God blessed you with. That took a lot of guts.”
“I don’t feel very brave now.” She sniffed. “I’m afraid to face my own family.”
He had sensed that. Sadie carried a lot of guilt over leaving her family, abandoning them and their lifestyle, and after sunrise she would come face-to-face with those feelings.
“You did the right thing, calling me.” As her sobs began to calm, Mike let his arms slip away, then shifted in his seat and started the engine. “I’ll get you there in a flash. Warp nine.”
She sniffed. “What’s warp nine?”
“Never mind. It’s just my geeky past slipping out.”
As they drove west, Sadie plugged her cell phone into the charger that worked off the car battery. “But I must remember to turn it off when I get there,” she said. “My cell phone was one of the things that made Adam mad when I lived at home.”
He reassured her that they would make it to Halfway before sunrise. “And how long are you planning to stay? Do you need a ride back to the city?”
“I can take a bus. I would like to stay a few days, but maybe they’ll kick me out today. I’m not sure I’ll be welcomed by everyone.”
“You’re talking about Adam,” he said. “I wish you two could straighten things out.”
“A wonderful wish, but it can’t come true. Adam is the head of the family. It’s his place to steer me toward baptism. He’s responsible for me joining the congregation.”
“And that’s not happening, so Adam’s doing a bad job. Is that how the logic goes?”
“Something like that.”
Mike gave her a quick look. The lights of the dashboard glowed over the ridges of her swollen lips and high cheekbones. He hated to see her looking so sad and vulnerable.
“Hey, do you want to switch on the radio? Find a good song.”
She shook her head. “I’ve got no mind for music now. I’m worried sick about what’s to come at the farm.”
“Relax. I told you, we’ll be there in plenty of time.”
“It’s not about being late. This has been eating at my heart since I left the farm. I want to go home, but it will be bittersweet now, knowing I don’t belong there. I’ll never be a baptized member of the faith. I’ll never be truly Amish.”
He nodded slowly. “Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot this summer. You’ve made some really hard choices, choices a lot of people don’t make in their entire lives.”
And she had grown. He had seen it in the way she related to Katherine, the way she had decided to teach herself piano, cook for the band, and start a quilt. Even in her budding realization that life issues weren’t polarized, black-and-white matters as the Amish ministers preached. Sadie had begun to see that there were many gray areas in life. Room for compromise.
Sadie had stepped out of her culture—a huge step for anyone.
“How could a person not make choices?” she asked. “That would be like turning around at a fork in the road because you can’t decide which way to go.”
“You’re right.” He loved her common sense, her wisdom and fortitude. Who else would scramble through two cities and the Pennsylvania countryside to make it home because of a promise?
Only Sadie.
When he pulled up and cut the engine at the end of the lane to the King farm, the sky was still the pitch blue of night. He checked the digital clock on the dash. “According to that, you’ve got twenty minutes or so to sunrise.”
“Parting at the end of the lane.” She looked out the window, toward the farm. “This is just like a rumspringa courtship.”
When she leaned close, he pressed a kiss to her lips. A short kiss, with a promise of more to come.
“Thank you. You are a very good Samaritan.”
His smile belied the ache in his heart as he watched her hitch her backpack onto one shoulder. Then slowly her form receded and she disappeared into the darkness.
THIRTY-SIX
As Sadie walked down the lane, her old home awakened around her. Cows mooed in the barn and birds began to trill in the trees and bushes. She loved the sensation of dew on the grass, the smell of the haymow and the rough feel of the weathered fence under her fingertips as she said hello to the horses stirring in the paddock.
It would have been a wondrous homecoming, if it weren’t for the storm churning inside her. Although she had kept her promise to come home in time for the birthday song, she was returning only as a visitor. Her real life was behind her, with Mike and Katherine and the music that flowed straight from her heart.
A baby rabbit leaped onto the grass of the nearby lawn, then went stiff when it saw Sadie. Frozen in fear.
Sadie paused. “I know how you feel,” she whispered to the quivering rabbit. Sadie had run from her safe Amish home to the greener grass of the Englisher world, and though she knew in her heart that God wanted her to be forging her own path far from this Amish community, the thought of the future could still catch her in a panic.
The rabbit eyed her coolly, pounced to the side, then darted down the lane. Probably headed off to nibble some cabbage in Mammi Nell’s garden.
“I see that you make choices much faster than I do,” she called after the creature, then continued walking down the lane toward the plain white two-story house that was still cloaked in sleep.
When Clive the rooster crowed for all the farm to wake up, she knew it was time to go inside and face her family.
It seemed so simple when the back door opened to her touch. She slipped her shoes off on the mud porch and headed inside.
The wooden stairs were smooth underfoot as she climbed, then paused at the top. The old house seemed small, but still cozy and rich with memories. She stepped lightly toward her old bedroom, her arms aching to hug her sisters.
The creak of a door stopped her. “Sadie?” Mary came toward her, her eyes still bleary from sleep. “You made it!” Her voice was hushed, but full of glee.
“It wasn’t easy,” Sadie admitted as
they exchanged a quick hug.
Then Mary leaned back and studied her, squinting in the moonlight. “Look at you, all grown up. A woman now.”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Gone but a few weeks. I couldn’t have changed so much.”
“Mmm.” Mary pressed a hand to the center of her chest. “Sometimes the change is in here.”
She was right.… How did Mary have such wisdom when she had never left the farm, never traveled out of Lancaster County?
Sadie longed to talk, but there was no time now. The sun would pop over the hills soon; it was time for the birthday song.
“I’ll go get the boys,” Mary said. “Why don’t you wake Katie?”
In the nursery, Katie was already standing in her crib. “Out!” She held her arms up, then grinned when she recognized Sadie. “Sadie! Sadie home.”
With a heartfelt sigh Sadie picked up the toddler and pressed her face to the little girl’s smooth cheek, downy hair, and sweet baby scent. “I missed you.”
Katie patted her back, then stiffened. “Down!”
“You’re right.” Sadie lowered her to the floor. “We have to sing the birthday song. It’s Leah and Susie’s birthday.”
“Leah and Susie? Okay. Time to sing the song,” Katie said as she toddled down the hall.
They ran into the boys coming from the other direction, and though Adam didn’t seem to see Sadie, Jonah clapped her on the shoulder and winked.
She smiled, trying to keep her emotions from brimming over as Gabe nodded and Sam blinked in delight.
When Sadie stepped into the room, Ruthie wore a glum expression, waiting alone in the space between the twin girls’ beds. Steeling herself with a breath, Ruthie looked up as the family filed in … and she spotted Sadie.
Joy sparked in her eyes as she gasped. “Sadie!”
“Shh!” Sam warned. “We must sing the song first.”
Sadie moved close to Ruthie and hugged her from behind as they all surrounded Leah’s bed. She always got the song first, since she had been born six minutes before her twin. Her hands on Ruthie’s shoulders, Sadie asked, “Are we ready?”
The family seemed to take a breath together, and Sadie began. “Rise and shine and give Gott your glory. Today is Leah’s birthday and this is her story.…”
Afterward, Sam and the girls congregated in the kitchen, where Mary brewed coffee and doled out pieces of cinnamon buns that she’d made the day before.
“Mind you don’t fill up on these,” Mary said as she poured Sam a cup of milk. “Leave room for real breakfast after the milking.”
Simon, Adam, Jonah, and Gabe were tending to that, much to Sadie’s relief. With Adam out in the milking barn, there were no barriers between her and her siblings, who were thrilled to have her home.
Ruthie wiggled onto the daybed between Susie and Sadie, and wrapped herself around Sadie’s arm. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you come into the bedroom! I had given up. I thought you’d surely forgotten us.”
“I didn’t want to break a promise to you,” Sadie said. She wouldn’t mention the fright she’d had about almost not making it here in time.
“After all this time, I wasn’t sure you remembered the promise.” Ruthie pressed her head to Sadie’s shoulder. “I was afraid we’d never see you again.”
“I could never stay away for long.” Sadie looked from one to another, so happy to see their smiling faces. “I missed you all, very much.”
“And we missed you,” Leah said, popping a piece of cinnamon bun into her mouth. “We got your letters. I can’t believe you saw the ocean! Is it wondrous beautiful?”
“More than I can say.”
“And now that the tour is over, are you home for good?” Ruthie asked, squeezing Sadie’s arm. “Say that you’re here to stay!”
“Oh, honey girl, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have to go back to the city.” Sadie braced herself for an argument, but there were only downturned frowns of disappointment.
“I don’t want you to go,” Ruthie said.
Sam slapped his notepad onto the table. “I don’t like the city.”
“Lucky for you that you live on a farm,” Mary said, trying to keep things positive as she wiped down the counter.
“So many things happened while you were gone,” Susie said. “Do you know that we bought ten new milking cows?”
“Really?” Sadie had known they planned for new cows once the milking machines were in, but this was news.
“And lightning struck the Stoltzfus’ house and set it on fire,” Leah added. “Jonah has been over there, helping them fix it.”
As Leah and Susie filled Sadie in on what she had missed in Halfway, Katie crawled into her lap with her dolly.
Then Sam wanted to show her the letters that Leah had taught him. He could write his name and knew the full alphabet. Numbers, too. “Did you know that two plus five is seven?” Sam asked as he showed her how to make a plus sign.
“Arithmetic already? You’re growing up before my eyes,” Sadie told him.
Sadie felt warmed from head to toe when the family sat around the big table for breakfast. They talked of making hay and canning peaches, and Sadie relaxed in her old spot at the table … until she noticed that Adam did not look at her or speak to her. She stared at him, studying his dark, furrowed brow as she wondered if he was still angry at her for leaving.
Quickly, she looked away from him, deciding that it was best to avoid him for now. It wouldn’t do to draw out fury at the family table. But as the day went on and she pitched in weeding the garden and cleaning the milkhouse, she was struck by how it hurt to be ignored.
While Sadie was scrubbing the long hallway between the row of milking stalls, Jonah came in wheeling a bale of hay.
“Spic-and-span,” he said. “The milk inspector would give you a high rating. Nobody cleans a place the way you do, Sadie.”
She took a break to wipe sweat from her forehead. It had been hard work scrubbing everything from the bulk tank to the milkhouse walls and windows. “Do you think that’s why Adam is letting me stay a few days?”
“I think you’re welcome to stay whether you clean or not.”
“I’m not so sure.” She told him how Adam had been avoiding her.
“Bishop Samuel is mighty concerned about you leaving the way you did. Ya, you’re in rumspringa, but no one expects an Amish girl to leave her family like that. There’s a lot of disappointment among the church leaders. The bishop expects you to come back to us, the way Adam did. But Adam and I know how bullheaded you can be. You’re not going to be baptized, are you?”
She shook her head. “I am sorry for that.” Sadie swabbed the floor with a passion. “It was the right thing for me to leave. The Lord in heaven didn’t make me to live Plain; I’m sure of that now. But I felt terrible leaving our family. It still tears at me. I need to go, but when I’m away my heart aches from missing all of you.”
Jonah left his wheelbarrow and came closer to lean against a stanchion. “Adam has different responsibilities, being head of the family. Me, I’m allowed to say that we all missed you while you were gone. But if you have to go again, just remember this: You’ll always be my sister,” he told her. “You can travel a thousand miles from home, but you’ll always have family here at the farm.”
His words were reassuring, but it didn’t break down the wall forming between Adam and her. Would he ever look her in the eye again?
That night, the family gathered round an outdoor fire to talk and catch fireflies and enjoy the cooler night air. Ruthie had fallen ill with a fever that afternoon—probably a flu. Mary explained that some folk had complained of a summer fever last Sunday at church. Mary had taken her to an empty room in the Doddy house. Mammi didn’t mind tending her, and it was best to keep the germs from spreading to the rest of the family, especially Susie, whose special condition made even the smallest illness a problem.
Adam was also missing, and Sadie wondered what excuse he had used. Was he visiti
ng Remy or working the wood in the little workshop behind the horse barn?
She tried to tell herself that she didn’t care, but it wasn’t true. She cared about Adam, and she longed to tell him of her adventures in the Englisher world. Wouldn’t he be happy to know that she had met someone who suited her perfectly? She glanced over at Sam and Simon chasing fireflies. How she wished Mike could be here to share this with her, to get to know her family this way.
Adam didn’t approve of Mike; Sadie knew that. But surely he could reach deep in his heart for some understanding. During his own rumspringa, Adam had left home on a search. Wouldn’t he understand that God had called her away, to a different kind of life?
As Leah and Susie begged to hear the birthday song one more time before it was all over, Sadie pushed her thoughts aside and brought herself back to the night with a blanket of stars above and crisp grass beneath her. “One more time,” she told the girls. “And then we put the song away for you … until next year.”
The next morning, Sadie rose early to help with the milking. Working beside Jonah, Simon, and Gabe with the new machinery, the task was quicker than ever, even with the additional cows to milk.
“I think the cows missed you, Sadie,” Gabe teased. “Or at least they missed your singing. They’re usually not this quiet.”
“I like to think they missed my beautiful music,” Sadie said.
“But Gert and Meadow are new cows,” Simon pointed out. “They never heard you singing before.”
They all laughed as they sent the cows out to pasture and went back to the house to wash up for breakfast.
In the kitchen, Mary cut egg casserole into pieces while Leah and Susie, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, set the table.
“I see Mary let you two sleep in this morning,” Adam said, coming in from the front room.
“They were sleeping like rocks,” Mary said. “It was hard waking them. Not even Clive the rooster made them stir.”
“I was up late reading,” Leah said as she placed a pitcher of milk on the table.
A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 30