It had to be more than her face. There were Amish girls he knew who were better-looking. Even Eunice would pass that test—if good looks were what he wanted. But it was more than good looks that was drawing him to Teresa. It was the softness and tenderness of her heart which seemed to shine through her face in moments when she didn’t know anyone was watching. He had noticed this on the first Sunday she had attended the instruction classes. Teresa couldn’t possibly know what her face was showing, and that made it even more vundahboah. Yost Byler certainly didn’t deserve a wife this gut.
Glancing at Teresa out of the corner of his eye, James felt the boy beside him nudge his ribs.
“You can ask her home,” the whisper came, delivered with a slight smile. “She’s available.”
James kept his head still, his heart pounding. Obviously the boy thought he had been looking at Eunice. If he knew the truth there would have been no smile in the teasing.
“I don’t want to,” James whispered back, and the boy’s smile got broader. Clearly he was not believing the story.
This whole situation was becoming intolerable. Should he speak to his daett about this? Nee, that wouldn’t do any good. But then what was he to do? Speak to Teresa? That was even more out of the question…or was it? His head ached with the thinking. What could the preachers possibly do to him? There would be some fuss, that was for sure. His daett after all was the deacon.
James blinked hard, trying to clear his mind. Why did Teresa have to marry Yost Byler once she was baptized? The answer was obvious of course—no one trusted her, but they were wrong. Clearly wrong, and things needed to change. Could he be the one to change them? He was Deacon Ray’s son, though. That made it all the harder.
Yet Yost and Teresa’s wedding day was coming up before long. And it would simply be awful to stand by and watch Yost Byler taking the vows with Teresa. And all the while Teresa would have that deep tenderness shining out of her eyes, mixed in with fear and trust. There might even be tears. He doubted he could bear to see that.
Nee…this couldn’t be allowed to continue. He had to speak with Teresa. He had to tell her she had other options. That he would be willing to consider a courtship with her. Because he was willing, wasn’t he?
The question stared him in his face. Was he willing? Was he willing to say the vows with an Englisha girl? Vows from which there could never be any going back? What if she left him after the wedding? What if she became tired of being Amish and longed for the worldly things she had left behind? That was possible was it not?
James looked at Teresa’s face again, and she raised her eyes as if she knew he was looking, meeting his gaze without blushing. There was sorrow written in them, and deep, deep pain. James tried to smile, the effort failing, and she lowered her eyes to the page on the songbook.
Beside him the boy’s elbow dug into James’s ribs again and he jumped. This had to stop somewhere, he told himself, but what was he to do now? Did all these questions about Teresa have to be decided tonight? Maybe he was taking things in giant steps instead of in the order in which they should be taken. He was thinking of marriage, and she might not even wish to be his girlfriend, let alone his wife. He could speak with her about Yost, and they could always part as friends if nothing else. Like some of the other Amish girls he had dated. But she should at least be given the option. That was the important point.
“I can ask her for you,” the boy next to him whispered close to his ear. “That is, if you’re scared.”
James shook his head, forcing a smile. Behind them someone hollered out the last song number of the evening, an Englisha song they all knew by heart: “God Be with You Till We Meet Again.” Concentrating, James sang along, keeping his eyes away from the bench full of girls.
Low chatter filled the room as the young people talked with each other. Every once in a while the conversation reached across the space between the boys and girls, but James didn’t join in. The steadies soon left, the boy leaving first, followed closely by his girlfriend a few moments later.
James waited until Susan and Teresa rose and walked out to the washroom. Slipping outside, he went to the barn. He found Susan’s horse in the second stall and led it outside.
“Oh, it’s you, James,” Susan said, meeting him at the buggy. Teresa hung back in the shadows. “I was hoping some kind soul would bring Toby out for us.”
“You wouldn’t expect us to leave two lovely girls to hitch their own horse,” he joked.
Susan laughed, the sound ringing in the night air, but Teresa moved deeper into the shadows and around to the other side of the buggy.
“Susan, um, I need to speak with Teresa,” James whispered, motioning toward her with the rim of his hat.
“With Teresa?” Susan questioned.
“Yah, but don’t make a racket about it,” he said. “I wish to speak with her in private. Here, hold the horse for a moment, please.”
“She doesn’t wish to speak with you,” Susan said. “And you’re not allowed to anyway. It will make all kinds of trouble.”
“I don’t think you want this thing with Yost Byler to go forward either, now do you?” he shot at her.
“No, I don’t,” she snapped. “But this isn’t the best way to handle the problem. You can’t just go and talk with her. You can talk with your daett if you really care. That might do more good.”
“I just might do that,” he said. “But first I wish to speak with her.”
“You’re not going to unless Teresa agrees—and she won’t,” Susan retorted.
“Would you speak more quietly?” he asked. “Someone will hear you! Of course I won’t talk with her if she doesn’t want to. But I’m going to find out from her, not from you. So hold the reins while I do that.”
“What’s going on?” Teresa asked, her voice coming from the edge of the darkness.
“I would like to speak with you in private,” James said, trying to see her face in the dark.
“You don’t want to talk to him,” Susan asserted. “I know what I’m saying, James.”
“I think I’d better,” Teresa said. “Have we got time?”
“Well, make it quick then!” Susan said. “You can’t be seen with him for very long.”
“Come,” James said, stepping behind the buggy.
Teresa’s face still wasn’t visible, and he didn’t dare take her hand. Hopefully she could see well enough to follow. He kept walking until he reached the wooden fence that separated the barnyard from the field where the rows of buggies were parked. He heard soft treads behind him, and then saw her body take shape beside him in the dim lantern light coming from the house.
“I’m sorry if this is inappropriate,” he said. “But I simply have to speak with you. First of all, my name is James.”
“I know,” Teresa said. “You’d better tell me what you want to say. Susan is waiting.”
“Susan can wait,” he muttered. “It may be hard for me to get a second chance to speak with you, so I plan to take my time.”
“Why are you watching me all the time?” Teresa asked.
“Because I care about you,” he admitted. “And especially about this Yost Byler situation.”
Teresa stumbled over her words. “Thank you, James. But I’m a young, unwed woman with a child. Your people are doing the best they can for me.”
“I don’t think I agree with that,” he responded.
“I think it’s nice that you have a soft spot in your heart for the poor Englisha woman who plans to marry Yost Byler. But there’s nothing that can be done. This is what’s best and what I deserve.”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. “You aren’t who they think you are, Teresa,” he finally said.
Teresa wouldn’t look at him. “I…I…really should go,” she said. “Talking to me will only cause trouble for you. I don’t want that. And it could mean worse trouble for me. They might not allow me to join the community. Your father wouldn’t allow it. And the ministers and Menno and Anna
support the arrangement with Yost. It’s the only way for me to stay, James.”
“But you deserve better than Yost Byler!” he protested.
“Why don’t you tell me how else it might be done?” she said. “You’re Amish. You know the rules better than I do. You know how the ministers—and your dad—feel.”
He fell into silence again.
She moved closer to him.
“Is it really that important to you?” he asked. “That you join the community? Is it because of your son?” He searched for her face in the darkness, and this time she turned her head toward him, the light from the house playing on her damp cheeks.
“I would do anything for Samuel,” she said, her voice choking.
“Is it that bad out there, out in the world?” he asked. “Bad enough to marry Yost Byler so you can stay here?”
She was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Yes.”
“I’m sorry it’s so hard for you,” he said, his hand touching his hat. “I only wanted to know for sure. I’ve thought about this… about some things. There is another way out, Teresa. I am willing to help you.”
“I thank you for the thoughts and effort, but there really is nothing you can do.”
James looked at the moon and then turned his gaze back to Teresa. He looked directly into her eyes. “I am willing to take you home on Sunday nights—to be your boyfriend, to be whatever you call it in the Englisha world. Then once you are baptized, you can do as you wish.”
“You would play with my heart, James?” Teresa responded. “You would deceive the ministers with such a trick?”
“Nee, Teresa,” he protested. “I play with no one’s heart. But neither do I ask for promises from girls who say they have no choices.”
Teresa gathered herself. “I can’t do it. That’s all there is to it. There would only be trouble, and I cannot have more trouble.”
“Hey!” He laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Things get a little boring around here anyway, so what’s wrong with a little excitement? I can handle it.”
“Perhaps you can, but I can’t,” she said, turning to go. “I have my son to think about. I won’t forget your kindness though.”
“Teresa!” he exclaimed, but she was already on her way back to the buggy.
He leaned against the wooden fence, resting his full weight on the top rail. Well, that went really well, he told himself. What a tumble fingers I am with girls. I can’t do anything right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Susan followed the line of buggies out to the main road, her hands clinging to the reins as she held Toby back. Just shy of the turn, he reared. In the darkness of the buggy, Teresa clutched her shawl and sobbed.
“What a nasty boy!” Susan stated. “I think our men are nothing but a big, grand mess. The nerve of him! I’m sure several boys walking past saw him talking with you.”
“James didn’t do anything wrong,” Teresa defended, sniffling. “He was trying to help. And I’m sorry if you think I was out of line, but I needed to hear what he had to say and make myself clear to him.”
“And are things clear now?” Susan asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Teresa said, starting to sob again. “It’s a lot worse than I imagined.”
“What did James say?” Susan asked. “Will you tell me or do I have to go back and ask him myself?”
“That’s the last thing I want to talk about right now,” Teresa said. “I want to forget all about it. I know now I should have listened to you and never even looked at him.”
“If you don’t tell me,” Susan warned, “I really am going back to ask James.”
“He offered to see me, to take me home on Sunday nights,” she whispered. “That’s what he said. James said I didn’t have to go through with the marriage to Yost.”
“Like he’s going to prevent it?” Susan snapped. “So did his daett okay this little scheme of his?”
“I asked him the same thing—or something like it,” Teresa said. “He didn’t say anything.”
“That takes the cake and the frosting,” Susan said. “I can’t believe this. So James is attracted to you, and you obviously are to him or you wouldn’t have gone to speak with him. I sure hope you didn’t give James encouragement.”
“None at all,” Teresa said, a catch in her voice.
Susan made the next turn, leaving the last buggy behind them. Toby slowed down. Taking both reins in one hand, she wrapped her arm around Teresa’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m mad at James, at his daett, at my mamm and daett, at the situation. But what gut does getting angry do?”
Teresa wiped her eyes. “It’s my own fault that I’m attracted to him, Susan. You know that’s the real problem. James is only feeling sorry for me.”
“Well, I don’t blame you,” Susan said. “Not that I find him attractive. But anything would be better than Yost Byler. But you do know we have to tell Mamm and Daett about your conversation.”
“No, Susan, you can’t!” Teresa wailed. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“It may be,” Susan said. “But they will understand. What they won’t understand is when this rumor comes floating back to them and they don’t know anything about it. And believe me, it will. James was completely out of line talking to you like that—out where everyone could see both of you.”
“But it was dark!” Teresa protested.
“People figure things out,” Susan said. “It’s not that hard. If James had anything decent to say, he could have said it in front of me.”
“Will you please tell your mom and dad when I’m not around?” Teresa begged. “I don’t think I can stand admitting this in front of them.”
“If you want me to, but they have to be told. That is, if you are to stay in the community. Did you give James any encouragement?” she asked again.
“I didn’t,” Teresa said weakly. “And I don’t think he can read my heart.”
“I don’t think he can either,” Susan said as the horse settled into a slow trot. “What a glorious mess. Are you ready now to go back to Asbury Park?”
“I’ll never be ready to go back—you know that,” Teresa said.
They drove in silence, surrounded only by the soft hoofbeats of Toby and the steady crunch of buggy wheels on gravel. Susan pushed open the buggy door and leaned out to look at the star-speckled sky. Teresa did the same on her side. When the moment had passed, they sat straight in their seats, the doors still open as they watched the low clouds before them scurry across the horizon.
“This is what I missed when I lived in Asbury Park,” Susan said, her voice low. “These quiet moments when a person feels so close to the land that it takes on a life of its own. It’s almost as if there are whispers on the night air that speak to my soul about deep things too hard to place into words. This is when the heavens are a sound that roars in my ears. Here, in this country, life is never really silent.”
“I didn’t know you thought such things,” Teresa said. “You say it well. Much better than I could. Can you understand why I don’t want to leave?”
“Yes. I guess I was foolish to try to convince you to go, but surely there is something like this elsewhere in the world?”
“I’ve been in the world, Susan,” Teresa said. “And, no, there’s nothing like it.”
“But there are millions and millions of people and places. We can’t be the only ones who feel like this.”
“Well, I never met any of them who did where I grew up,” Teresa asserted.
The buggy wheels rattled on through the night, the light from the Hostetler living room window soon glimmering in the distance.
“Will your parents ask me to leave,” Teresa asked, “when you tell them about James?”
“Of course not, Teresa,” Susan replied. “They like you.”
“You’ve been wrong before,” Teresa reminded her. “About me… about the people in the Amish community.”
“Perhaps,” Susan admitted. �
��But I’m not wrong this time. I’ll leave with you myself if they ask you to go.”
“I don’t want people sacrificing themselves for me,” Teresa said. “And I wish James would understand that. I want to be left in peace with Yost.”
“I will tell them, and they’ll be okay with it,” Susan assured her again as she turned Toby into the driveway.
Teresa climbed down when the buggy came to a stop and helped to unhitch.
Susan took the horse into the barn with her flashlight, looking back over her shoulder at Teresa standing beside the buggy gazing up at the stars.
The poor girl, she thought. Why couldn’t everyone leave well enough alone? The truth was, she couldn’t either. It simply was too hard to watch. It was too much of a shame. James really wasn’t having that different a reaction from what she had herself. James’s interest was just more explosive.
And she really couldn’t blame James for his interest. Teresa was a nice girl. Anyone could see that she had a heart of gold. But then perhaps they did see, and were as unable to do something about it as she was. James was trying but sure wasn’t helping. He was only making things worse. Much worse.
Susan pulled the harness off Toby and hung it on the wall. Slapping the horse on his rump, she shooed him into his stall, made sure he had some hay, and then left, shutting the barn door behind her.
“There!” Susan said, returning to where Teresa was still watching the stars. “All done. We can go inside now.”
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Teresa said. “I could stay out all night.”
“My guess is Samuel will be more than glad to see you,” Susan reminded her.
“He’s probably soundly sleeping, the little darling,” Teresa said as she followed Susan across the dark lawn. “He likes his bottle more all the time.”
“He is growing up fast,” Susan acknowledged, holding the door open while Teresa entered. They pulled off their shawls and bonnets, hanging them in the closet. Mamm and Daett were up, reading in the living room by the light of the hissing gas lantern.
“You’re a little late,” Mamm noted, looking up with a questioning smile.
Following Your Heart Page 17