“I didn’t mean that! I don’t think any of you are overweight,” Teresa replied instantly, chagrined.
Even though Eunice was smiling, she hadn’t looked happy at Teresa’s initial comment.
“Perhaps not,” Eunice said, adding, “I saw you came with James tonight. Was he at your place this afternoon?”
“He stopped by for a few minutes,” Teresa managed. She felt the heat rising in her face. Her face must be blazing red. Oh why hadn’t she looked closer who was in the line in front of her? Of course Eunice would have objections to James even speaking with her, let alone driving her here in his buggy.
“Does Susan have her buggy here?” Eunice asked. “I don’t remember seeing it.”
“No,” Teresa admitted. “James brought both of us, and he’s driving us home again.”
“Really? Is he seeing Susan and you just came along for the ride? James would be nice enough for such a thing.”
“I don’t think so,” Teresa said, her heart racing.
“Really…” Eunice turned her attention to filling her plate without waiting for any more comments.
Teresa kept distance between them until they reached the end of the table. She moved to sit at the other end of the room. If Eunice was upset with the situation, likely others would be also. This could bring nothing but trouble for her baptismal Sunday, which was coming up soon. Bishop Henry wouldn’t smile any longer at her progress if controversy stirred.
“Please, dear God,” she prayed, staring at her plate of food, “I’m not trying to cause any trouble for anyone. And remember Samuel. Bless him and help me keep him safe and loved.”
Someone sat on the bench beside her, but Teresa didn’t look up. Whoever it was likely had more comments to make about James bringing Susan and her to the hymn singing.
“I wouldn’t let Eunice bother you,” Susan’s soft voice said beside her.
Teresa jerked her head up. “Oh, it’s you!” she said in relief.
“Eunice was just hoping James was driving me around,” Susan said, “so she can make a final move on Thomas.”
“Love is so horrible and messy,” Teresa moaned. “I don’t want problems before my baptismal.”
“You aren’t making any problems,” Susan assured her. “Don’t worry about it. And don’t look so white. People will think we’re starving you at the house or working you half to death.”
“I’ll try,” Teresa said, taking a bite and chewing. It tasted so good it almost melted in her mouth. Tears stung in her eyes, but she refused to release them. God would help her through this. He would remember Samuel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Teresa closed the songbook as the last notes of the Sunday night hymn singing hung in the air. The round clock on the living room wall said nine o’clock on the dot. As usual, the young people’s time was closing with punctuality. Nothing else was normal though. Teresa’s heart was racing at the thought of driving home with James. Sure, Susan would be along, but James would be seated in the middle. She’d have to speak to him again. There were things she would have to tell him, even with Susan along. Words that would be hard to say. Perhaps it would be better to say nothing and just jump out of the buggy and run for the house the moment they got home? James had promised, had he not, that this was only a drive home and nothing more.
“We’re ready to go,” Susan said, interrupting Teresa’s thoughts.
“Okay.” Teresa got to her feet. Moving down the center aisle between the boys and girls, Teresa kept her eyes on the floor. Surely her face must be burning—her neck certainly felt on fire. The young people had to know what James was doing and were probably wondering why. And well they should. It made no sense according to their strict traditions. No girl should be riding home with a boy who wasn’t her brother unless there was a good reason. And she was an outsider.
In the washroom they found their wraps in the light of the gas lantern. Teresa double-checked to make sure she had her own. With the way her mind was going, she didn’t want to accidentally pick up someone else’s wraps. Stepping out into the night air, the cool breeze brushed across her warm face.
“James’s buggy isn’t here yet,” Susan said. “We must have come out a little too soon or else James was held up.”
“How can you tell the difference between buggies?” Teresa asked, peering into the darkness. The night was broken only by the light coming from the washroom window and the low lights from the approaching buggies.
“You’ll learn,” Susan said. “Every boy has something a little different on his buggy. Maybe a light that’s set wider apart or a piece of reflector tape in a certain spot. And his horse, of course. That’s the best way to tell—if it’s not too dark to see the horse.”
“How will you know James’s buggy?” Teresa asked.
“I’m not sure about his buggy,” Susan admitted. “I haven’t seen it that much, but I’m sure his horse will stand out. James drives one of the best horses around. It holds its head high up in the air. And there will be enough light from the headlights to see that.”
“How did you tell Thomas’s buggy from the others?” Teresa asked.
“Let’s not talk about that,” Susan said. “Here comes James! See how the horse holds up its head?”
Teresa followed Susan down the walk. Approaching the buggy, she waited until Susan had gone around and had climbed in before she pulled herself up the step.
“Good to see both of you again,” James said, holding himself off the seat with his hands on the dashboard until Teresa and Susan were seated. He sat down between them, letting out the lines and his horse dashed forward.
“It’s a good night for driving,” Susan said as they moved through the darkness.
Teresa looked outside at the twinkling stars above. They looked so beautiful, so clear, so majestic and pure. Unlike what she was feeling at the moment with James’s leg crammed tightly against hers.
“Yes, it is,” James agreed, pulling out to pass a buggy. He stayed well away from the ditch.
“Don’t try to show off,” Susan said. “I know you have a fast horse.”
“I’m not trying to show off.” James laughed. “I just get tired of holding him back.”
“I see the hymn singing hasn’t made you any less conceited,” Susan said. “I figured singing holy songs would sanctify your soul a little.” She smiled.
“Ha!” James said. “Now I see why Thomas doesn’t want to drive you home on Sunday nights. Your tongue is sharper than a hay-mowing blade.”
“Just think what it will be like when I get older,” Susan retorted. “My husband won’t need to waste money on a hay cutter.”
James roared with laughter. “I’ll have to tell Thomas about that,” he said.
“And you think this will help you how?” Susan asked.
“Look, Susan,” he said, “I’m not trying to help myself. I’m just driving you home and dropping you off. Although I must say I’m enjoying myself more than I figured I would. No wonder Thomas is working so hard to get back into your good graces.”
“Believe me,” Susan said, “I was nice to Thomas for years, and look where it got me.”
“So be nice to him again,” James said. “He’s sorry, you know. And he would be delighted.”
“I don’t want to delight him, James.” Susan groaned. “Let Eunice do that.”
“That’s not what Thomas wants, Susan,” James said, his voice turning sober. “Poor Thomas is lonely tonight and full of pain. His heart is throbbing in the hopes he can see you again someday. But no, you cruelly send him away and lock the door behind you.”
Susan laughed. “Now if Thomas could talk like that,” she said, “perhaps I’d listen just to hear the sound of his voice.”
“I doubt if he can,” James said, slowing his horse to make the next turn. “It’s not everyone who can.”
“You’re both so conceited you’re in danger of blowing up,” Susan commented. “And come to think of it, if Thomas could talk li
ke that, he’d be singing it in Eunice’s ear, so what good would that do me?”
“You shouldn’t be so bitter, Susan,” James corrected. “We are to forgive you know, and Thomas is very sorry.”
“Now how do you know that?” Susan asked.
“Because I’m his friend.”
“So tell me something,” Susan said. “Did Thomas take Eunice home while I was gone? I’ve often wondered.”
“Thomas behaved himself pretty well while you were gone,” James said.
“That’s not answering my question, James,” Susan noted.
“Maybe it’s not my place to answer,” James said.
“That’s all I need to hear,” Susan said.
“Yes, I think he did,” James admitted. “But he figured out his mistake pretty quickly.”
“Too bad he didn’t figure it out before he kissed her,” Susan shot back.
“My, my,” James said. “I’m glad I’m not on your bad side. That would be an awful place to be.”
“Just remember that,” Susan said.
Teresa cleared her throat. “I think Susan is a very wonderful person. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for her.”
“Now that’s a good point,” James agreed. “Susan is a very nice girl after all.”
“That’s a pretty plain thing to see,” Susan said smugly.
“Now who’s full of herself?” James asked, as he turned into the Hostetler driveway. “Well, here we are, ladies! And it has been a mighty pleasant evening. Perhaps we can do it again sometime?”
“I don’t think so,” Susan said, climbing out of the buggy. “At least not with me along. Teresa, well, that’s another matter. You’ll have to speak to her about that.”
“Yah,” James said. “I think I do need to speak with her. Will you stay out here a few minutes, Teresa?”
“I’m not sure,” Teresa said, her voice weak. “I thought you said you’d just bring us home and nothing more.”
“I won’t keep you long,” James said.
Perhaps now was the time to tell James what needed to be said. And if Susan wasn’t here, that would make it even easier.
“Take your time, Teresa. I’ll wait up for you,” Susan said, disappearing into the darkness.
“I’m sorry about ignoring you on the way home,” James said, as he settled into his side of the buggy. “I really wanted to speak with you, but perhaps it’s better with Susan not here.”
At least he wasn’t as close now. It made talking to him easier.
“That’s okay,” she said. “It was fun listening to the two of you talk. I never had friends like that while I was growing up.”
“I’m sorry about that,” James said. “But maybe there’s still time to make up for it. The people in the community have really taken you up well.”
“You have all been wonderful,” she said. “But James, the truth is this can’t go on between us. It can’t.”
“What do you think is going on, Teresa?” he asked. “I just brought you home. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“From the looks I got at the hymn singing, there seems to be plenty wrong with it. I know your traditions enough to know that when a boy takes a girl home after hymn singing it implies he’s interested in dating her. And that can’t be, James,” she said. “I’ve tried and tried to explain this to you, but you don’t seem to listen.”
“I am listening, Teresa,” he said. “But I don’t want to hear what you’re saying because it’s not right.”
“But it is right, James.” She looked at his face in the darkness. “Everything I have told you is the way it is.”
“Maybe it’s only the way you think it has to be,” he said, pushing his hat back on his head. “I know that you feel bad about your past, but I also know I really admire you in spite of it. I would like to see more of you, Teresa. Can’t you open your heart a little bit for that? If you find that you don’t like me, you can always send me away. But give me a chance.”
“I don’t seem to have much success in sending you away now, James,” she said. “So how would I be more successful in the future?”
He smiled, the outline of his face showing in the dim buggy lights.
“I’ll know when you’re serious about not liking me, Teresa,” he said. “Your eyes will agree with your words.”
Teresa sighed. “I didn’t know it was that obvious.”
He laughed. “It’s not a bad thing, Teresa. Follow your heart! Can’t you do that?”
“Maybe I’m tired of following my heart, James. I’m tired of where it leads me. You believe following my heart can only lead to good things, but I know better. I’ve gone very far down the wrong road, and I don’t want to do it again. And now I have Samuel to think of. Yost is more than willing to be a father to him, to help me bring my baby up the way I want him to live.”
“And you don’t think I would?”
“I’m not sure. And I can’t use Yost as a fallback option. It’s not fair to him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Yost,” he said. “I’ll talk to him about this and explain.”
“No, you won’t, James. You don’t have anything to tell him because you’re not sure about me and I’m not sure about you. And what of all those other girls you’ve known, James? The Amish girls? What was wrong with them? And none of them had a baby without a father. Were they not good enough for you? And if so, how can I be when I’ve already sinned in such a horrible way?”
“Some things can’t be explained neatly,” he said. “You’re different from the other girls.”
Teresa laughed bitterly. “You can say that again.”
“And why bring up the other girls I’ve dated?” he asked. “Does it bother you?”
“A little,” she said. “Mostly because I’m not sure you’d stay serious if I allowed myself to become serious. You seem to like the chase.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Teresa,” he said. “I promise.”
“That’s not good enough for me, James. ‘I promise’ doesn’t carry much weight in my world. And look how lightly you’re treating my promise to Yost. I did promise to marry him.”
He sighed and looked out into the darkness.
“I’m sorry, Teresa,” he finally said. “I really am. Isn’t there some way you will at least think about this? Take as much time as you wish, but don’t shut me out of your life. Yost can be taken care of easily. Believe me, he’ll understand.”
“I’m going in now, James. We’ve been alone too long already.”
“Will you think about what I’ve said?”
She took a look into his eyes. “I’ll think about it, but don’t count on anything.” With that she climbed down the buggy steps.
“I’ll be thinking about you,” he said as she walked toward the house. His words hung in the night air.
Teresa heard the buggy wheels behind her squeal as he turned around in the driveway.
Susan was sitting on the couch when Teresa walked in.
“The baby’s asleep upstairs,” Susan said. “You didn’t send James away for good, did you?”
Teresa shook her head as tears sprang to her eyes.
“You poor thing,” Susan said, standing to wrap her arms around Teresa. “It will work out okay in the end. It always does.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Teresa wailed. “I promise things, but I can’t seem to keep anything I promise.”
“You must trust Da Hah,” Susan said. “He’s not led you wrong so far, has He?”
Teresa shook her head, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I told James I’d think about what he said!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Yost tossed the harness onto the horse’s back and then reached under to grab the belly straps in the dim light filtering through the cobweb-laced barn window. A quick pull snapped the weakened point where the metal clip had worn a groove across the leather.
“Acht,” Yost groaned. “Now, I’ll never get back in
time for the chores.”
Running into the milk house, Yost found a roll of wire and large pliers. Returning to the waiting horse, he patched the broken leather with a wire hook and tightened the rest of the straps with care. Leading his horse outside, Yost blinked in the bright Saturday afternoon sun and pulled his straw hat over his forehead.
The horse stood unmoving as Yost fastened the tugs and threw the lines into the buggy. Climbing in, he hollered, “Get-up there,” and the horse plodded out of the driveway. Yost settled into the buggy seat and pushed back his hat, his brow troubled.
Were even half the things true which he kept hearing about Teresa? If they were, they were still hard to believe. Yet, Mose’s boy, Amos, was not one to make up stories. If he said Deacon Ray’s son, James, was driving the Englisha girl to the hymn singings, then it must be true. Why hadn’t someone told him sooner? If Amos hadn’t needed to borrow the small disk for his mamm’s garden, he still wouldn’t know.
That’s what came from thinking all was well. Teresa had been doing so gut with her instruction classes. If this rumor was true, Bishop Henry would be bringing those to a fast stop. Deacon Ray would surely not tolerate his son having anything to do with an Englisha girl, let alone one with a child.
Yost urged his horse on, his buggy rattling south. At the road leading to Deacon Ray’s place he paused, his horse almost coming to a stop. With a shake of his head, he turned right, slapping the lines.
The best thing would be a talk with Teresa herself. Perhaps this could all be straightened out without either Bishop Henry or Deacon Ray being involved. That would be the best outcome. Because who knew what complications would arise if those two began speaking their minds.
Was this what one went through with getting married to a woman? This trouble, this unexpected turn of events, this news which fell out of the sky on one’s head. Yost ran his fingers through his beard. Surely after the vows were said things would not continue so. Surely a woman could only cause so many anxious moments.
But now was not the time to be asking such questions. Now was the time to find out what went wrong and fix the problem. And surely there were plenty of gut things to enjoy with a woman in the house to offset any trouble she might bring with her. There was supper on the table for one, and clean clothing for another. Both were worth some unpleasant situations, perhaps even very unpleasant situations.
Following Your Heart Page 23