by Mary Ellis
She tightened the cloak around her shoulders against the wind. “No, only to the co-op. They arranged transportation for me. We found out that a bus goes upstate to Bangor every Tuesday. From there it’s only a twenty-minute taxi ride to Chestnut.” They stopped walking at the goat enclosure.
“On a whim you’re tracking down a shunned district member who might not even live in Chestnut by yourself?”
“Yes. Nora doesn’t wish to travel with me, so I bought only one bus ticket.”
“Nora wouldn’t be much help anyway if you ran into trouble.” John shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Amy huffed out her breath. “Be that as it may, I’m going to find her. She’s not just a garden variety shunned district member, John. She’s my beloved aunt. I have little other family here in Maine.”
He stepped closer and softened his voice. “I am your family now, Amy, and Thomas and Sally and the boys. What do you hope to accomplish if you do find her? She’s not coming back to Harmony, and we’re not moving up north. Let her remain a pleasant memory from your childhood.”
For a moment, Amy watched a nanny goat chewing grass with her comical, green-stained teeth. Then she turned to face him. “No,” she replied, without elaboration.
“What do you mean by no? What if I forbid you?” He removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“You wouldn’t forbid me, John Detweiler, because that would be a stupid thing to do. And you are not a stupid man. I want to make sure Prudence understands when Leon died so if she ever wants to return to Harmony, she knows she could start over.”
He stared at her, stunned. “Do you no longer love me, Amy? Have you changed your mind about marrying me? If so, tell me now so I will stop pestering you like a pet dog.” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt to loosen his collar. “Is that why you’ve refused to look at properties for sale with me?”
“No, John, I’ve not fallen out of love with you. And I do want to look at farms with you, but it seems Sally always needs me to help with housework. I hate leaving her to manage with only Nora. I promise to visit possible properties as soon as I return from Chestnut…or from wherever Prudence happens to be. Please don’t worry about me—I am a grown woman.” Amy began to shake violently. “Right now, I’m cold, so I’m going inside. I will leave on Tuesday, but I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Amy turned on her heel and marched to the house. She knew if she remained he would continue to argue or attempt to reason with her. And, frankly, she’d had enough reasonable behavior to last a lifetime.
“Please don’t spy on them, fraa,” said Thomas from the doorway. “You cannot hear what John and Amy are saying, and you shouldn’t speculate.”
Sally dropped the kitchen curtain back in place, only mildly flustered she’d been discovered. “I’m concerned for Amy’s sake. You know how fond I’ve grown of her.” She picked up a plate to wash.
Thomas carried his Bible to the table, deciding he would prepare for Sunday school here instead of in the living room. He was curious too, but it was John’s actions that had him worried. “If there’s something Amy wishes you to know, I’m sure she’ll tell you tomorrow. How about fixing me a cup of tea with honey? If you join me, you won’t look nearly so obvious.” He patted the chair beside him.
“A wonderful idea!” Sally filled the kettle with water and then set out two mugs and the honey pot.
Before the water came to a boil, Amy pushed open the door. She looked pale, her teeth chattered, and her fingers were bright red. “If you don’t need me anymore tonight, Sally, I think I’ll read in my room.” She dabbed her nose with a tissue.
“The dishes are almost done. How about I bring you a cup of tea later?” asked Sally.
“Please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll probably go to bed early.” Amy disappeared up the stairs without another word.
Sally perched her hands on her hips. “Your brother upset her and that’s not right.”
Thomas closed his Bible without jotting down a single verse of Scripture. “Let me handle this. It’s part of my job as minister.”
“Do you need the wooden spoon?” she asked. “Your mamm said it worked on you and your bruders.”
“No, and please leave the curtain closed. We don’t want you getting chilled from pressing your face to the glass.” Thomas shrugged into his coat. “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”
Sally snorted as she grabbed the next bowl to wash. “Your tea will be on the table. I’ll add an extra teaspoon of honey. It’ll sweeten you up.” She flashed a grin over her shoulder.
It would be the last smile Thomas would see that night.
He found John in the barn, brushing burrs from his horse’s mane. A sole kerosene lamp burned from a hook on the post. Although his strokes were slow and methodical, the set of his jaw revealed a sour mood. “I’d like a word with you,” said Thomas.
John glanced up and then resumed grooming the Morgan. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I didn’t like how you raised your voice at the supper table tonight. You know better than that.”
“Mir leid. It won’t happen again.” The brothers locked gazes before John turned back to the horse. “Amy’s harebrained idea to go traipsing upstate pulled the rug out from under me.”
“It shouldn’t have.” Thomas leaned against the stall wall.
“What do you mean?” John sounded suspicious.
“She’s been obsessed with Prudence Summerton since the day she bought that quilt in town. After her grossmammi’s letters, finding her aunt seems like a logical progression.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t.” John brushed with renewed vigor.
“That’s because you don’t like Prudence. And perhaps you’re judging her for her past actions. That’s not your place.”
“It’s hard not to, Thomas. She behaved selfishly without regard for anyone but herself. And I fear Amy might follow in her footsteps. She knows my feelings and yet plans to travel to Chestnut anyway.”
“You cannot and should not bully her.”
“I don’t want to bully anybody, but maybe if you told her not to go she would listen. You are her minister, and Prudence is shunned.”
Thomas couldn’t deny that John’s request contained some logic, but he still couldn’t comply. “Perhaps she would listen, but I won’t tell her what to do—not as her pastor and not as her future brother-in-law. I want Amy to accept our Ordnung and our ways of her own choosing. I won’t order her around just to make you happy.”
“No, of course not. You won’t lift a finger to help me, yet you let Elam come and go as he pleases with your blessings.”
The accusation stung. “Not with my blessing, I assure you. The matter of Elam will be resolved in due time.” Thomas heard the brittle edge to his tone, so he took several deep breaths. “And it wouldn’t be helping you if I ordered Amy to cancel the trip. I fear it would only drive her further away. You must let her make her own choices or she’ll not be happy as your wife.”
John pressed the brush against the gelding’s shiny coat. “A wife should mind her husband.”
“But she will never become your wife until you grow up. You’re not ready for marriage and neither is she. A marriage is a partnership based on love and respect, not an authoritative dictatorship. You must first surrender your own will to God if you want Amy to surrender hers.”
John’s eyes flashed with anger and then unexpectedly filled with tears. “Daed was always in charge of the Detweiler household. What other example do I have? Mamm seemed content in her role as his wife and our mother. I want my home to be as happy.”
Thomas’s heart rose into his throat hearing his brother’s pain. “We have no idea how mamm and daed were during their courting days. I can only advise you regarding here and now.” He reached for John’s shoulder.
“Danki. I’ll think on what you have said.” John shook away his tears and his brother’s touch and continued to brush.
Tho
mas could do nothing more than return to the house, praying those thoughts would lead John in the right direction.
ELEVEN
Naked, come to Thee for dress
Helpless, look to Thee for grace
Be sure to watch for moose,” had been Nora’s instructions.
“Don’t set your purse down in the bus station and walk away from it,” had been Sally’s sage advice.
“Those batteries in your new cell phone will only hold a charge for so long, so you’d better come back as soon as possible,” had been John’s last-minute warning.
“Turn to the Lord for strength and guidance during the trip.” Amy had appreciated Thomas’s words best of all. Who else did she need as long as she had God? But in the taxi from Bangor to the last known address of Prudence Summerton, Amy lost most of her confidence. The town of Chestnut was little more than a crossroads, with one blinking traffic light; a small grocery store; one bank; a combination town hall, post office, and library in one building; and a gas station that also sold Subway sandwiches. Apparently, they also served ice cream in warm weather, but that window had been shuttered. Picnic tables used to enjoy summertime snacks were stacked on their sides in preparation for winter.
Amy saw no evidence of anyone Amish living in the area—no hitching posts or water troughs. Electric wires ran to every farm or modest ranch house she passed. She began to doubt the wisdom of her rash decision. What had seemed a bold and independent idea in Sally’s warm house now felt foolish and reckless in the backseat of a car careening down narrow country roads at breakneck speed. If she hadn’t been both tired and hungry, maybe she could have enjoyed the grandest adventure of her life.
The day had started at dawn when John drove her to the bus stop in Harmony. He cautioned her about every possible danger, from an early snowstorm to a bout of food poisoning. He’d purchased a prepaid cell phone at the hardware store and taught her how to use it, even though she fully understood the device thanks to English neighbors in Lancaster. The bus ride from Harmony to Bangor took several jarring, stomach-churning hours. Then she had to find a cab to take her to her aunt’s address. She planned on using the new phone to arrange a ride back to Bangor.
She should have had more than a hot dog to eat.
She wished she’d brought some kind of hostess gift.
And she should have figured out what to say to an aunt she’d not seen in a decade.
“Here we are, miss,” said the driver, turning into a rutted lane.
“Please don’t leave right away. I’m not sure if the Summertons still live here, and I don’t wish to be stranded.” Amy leaned forward to peer out the windshield.
“It said ‘W. Summerton’ on the mailbox.” The driver smiled into the rearview mirror. “Besides, I don’t see any power lines to the house. You might have found the right place.” He stopped the vehicle with a spray of gravel.
Amy squirmed on the seat. “I don’t think my relatives are still Amish, so that doesn’t mean anything. You could take my bag from the trunk, but please don’t leave. I’ll pay you what I owe you now, but I may need you to take me back to Bangor.” Her voice cracked and sputtered out, exposing her insecurity.
He opened the back door for her. “I understand. Try to relax. Things will probably turn out okay.” He flashed a grin as she stepped out. In front of her stood a white two-story house, very simple without shutters or porches, but late-blooming mums flanked both sides of the walkway.
Amy counted out the fare while the driver retrieved her bag, and then she climbed stone slabs to the front door. No one answered her first knock or her second or her fifth. She glanced over her shoulder. “No one seems to be home,” she called, trudging down the steps.
“Try over there.” The driver, who had been leaning against the taxi with crossed arms, pointed his finger toward the side of the house.
In the distance Amy spotted someone working in the garden. The stooped-over woman was shrouded in a heavy cloak and bonnet. Could it possibly be? A fist-sized lump rose up in Amy’s throat as she took several mincing steps toward her. She hesitated and looked back again with childlike shyness.
“Go on,” he encouraged. “I’ll wait right here till you tell me otherwise.”
“Turn to the Lord for your strength.” Remembering Thomas’s words, Amy forced her stiff legs toward the cabbage and squash patch. “Hello?” she said meekly while still fifteen feet away. “Prudence Summerton?”
The woman arched her neck to peer at Amy. Then she slowly straightened her back and dropped long-stemmed beets into a basket. “Amy? Amy King?” she asked. Breaking into a grin from one ear to the other, she opened her arms wide. “Goodness, I can’t believe you’ve come all this way.”
Amy dropped her purse in the tall grass as she ran. “You recognized me after all these years? I can’t believe I haven’t changed.”
“Who else could it be?” Prudence dragged her across a garden row.
“Dear me, Aunt, I’m trampling your pumpkin runners.” Amy allowed herself to be enfolded as her heart swelled to near bursting.
“Don’t worry about them. I have tons of squash but few nieces who come to visit.” Prudence held Amy against her wool cloak for a moment and then drew her back to arms’ length. “My, you have indeed changed. You were in school the last time I saw you and as skinny as a reed. I don’t think I would have known you if you hadn’t written.” She lifted Amy’s chin with one finger to study her face.
“You got my letters? How many?” Amy tugged off her outer bonnet as her scalp started to perspire.
“Two. And I wrote back the next day both times.” Prudence slipped an arm around Amy’s waist. “Let’s get you something to drink. Are you hungry? Wait until my Will gets back. He’s cutting up deadfall in the hills for firewood.”
Amy scooped up her purse as they walked by and then remembered the taxi. “I’ll be right back.” She took off running for the driveway. “It’s her!” she shouted to him. “I found my family!”
“That big hug told me as much.” His grin was almost as wide as her aunt’s. He climbed back into the car. “Enjoy your visit. Call me when you’re ready to return to the bus station.”
“Danki—I mean, thank you.” Amy waved her hand.
Prudence waited on the threshold, holding open the front door. “I can’t believe you traveled alone. Your mamm would be proud. We would have met you in Bangor had we known you were coming.”
Amy followed her inside, down a hallway, and into a large airy kitchen at the back of the house. Everything was tidy but austere. Judging by her aunt’s appearance and the sparse furnishings, the Summertons were still Plain. “When I received no replies to my letters, I took a chance on finding you. I didn’t want you to tell me not to come.”
Prudence pointed at a chair. “I can’t imagine why my letters never reached Harmony, but I wouldn’t try to keep you away. Tell me about your trip.”
Over two cups of coffee, a bowl of vegetable soup, and a tuna sandwich, Amy described the bus ride and her life at the Detweilers, minimizing but not avoiding John’s reluctance for her to come.
“John is wisely being cautious. He wishes nothing to impede your acceptance in your new district. I’m banned, Amy. Nothing will ever change that.”
“But that’s why I had to see you. If you got my letters, then you saw the death certificate of your first husband. You didn’t marry Mr. Summerton until after Uncle Leon had died. You’re no adultress.” Amy had spoken the harsh word without thinking. “I beg your pardon. I don’t mean to be offensive.”
Prudence set a pot of steeping tea on the table. “You didn’t offend me, child. No one can call me anything I haven’t called myself.” Her face paled from the unpleasant memory.
“Well, I’m here to set things right.”
She patted Amy’s hand. “Everything is all right, so your work is done. Now you can relax and enjoy yourself.”
At that moment a tall bear of a man entered through the back door. He hung
up his hat and raked a calloused hand through thinning grey hair. “Who is this, fraa?” He studied Amy curiously.
“My sister Edna’s oldest girl has come to see how I’m faring.”
“That’s what I supposed.” He nodded at Amy while taking the seat across the table. “Supper ’bout ready?”
Prudence laughed hard enough to set her kapp ribbons swinging. “Supper? I just reheated soup for Amy and fixed her a sandwich. I’ve been nibbling along with her.”
Will Summerton leaned back in his chair. “A bowl of soup and sandwich sounds fine to me, providing you have some pie left. You can fuss over dinner tomorrow.”
When he smiled fondly at his wife, Amy relaxed. She’d been right to come. Time hadn’t changed her aunt. With one glance, anybody could tell the woman was happy here. “I’m pleased to meet you…oncle Will.”
Later that evening, after Will had gone to bed, Amy asked Prudence the question that had been bothering her. They sat in the front room, quietly rocking next to the woodstove after catching up on the news of each other’s lives.
“Why did you divorce Uncle Leon? Amish couples don’t ever get divorced.”
“I wondered when you would get around to asking that.”
Amy felt heat climb up her neck into her face. “If you’d rather not—”
“Don’t be silly,” she interrupted. “You deserve the truth after what you undertook to get here.” Clack, clack, clack. The wooden runners of her chair rolled over the polished floor. “I divorced Leon because he often drank. And when he got drunk, he used to beat me—sometimes with his belt, sometimes with his fists. He’d say he was sorry the next day once he sobered up, but it never changed anything. It started up again the next time he bought a bottle. Folks would pretend they didn’t see the bruises, or they would make excuses for him.”
Clack, clack, clack.
“Why not just live apart? Our Ordnung permits that in certain cases.” Amy spoke with the barest whisper.
“Because he would find out where I was staying and make me come home. Under alcohol’s influence, Leon was evil. One day I decided I’d had enough. I didn’t care if they shunned me. I went to the police for a restraining order. They got me a legal aid lawyer, and she found me a place to stay—in Harmony. Then I met Will. That’s the story in a nutshell.”