“Gut afternoon,” Deacon Mast greeted him. “Getting in some last-minute field work before Da Hah’s day of rest?”
Alvin nodded. “Yah, there’s always more to be done.”
Deacon Mast nodded. “That was quite a shock about Paul’s accident on Thursday. As a result, I trust everyone’s being more careful than they were before.”
“I try.” Alvin nodded again.
“Young men can get a little rambunctious sometimes.” Deacon Mast gave him a smile.
What was that supposed to mean? Alvin wasn’t sure. But if the deacon offered no more startling advice then this, Alvin decided he’d be more than happy. Doubtless though, more serious things lay ahead.
Alvin nodded and bowed his head.
Deacon Mast cleared his throat. “I have shared my concerns with the other ministers, Alvin. About Crystal Meyers and your relationship with her.”
“Her appearance here is not my fault,” Alvin protested. “I left the woman a long time ago.”
Deacon Mast silenced him with a direct look. “That’s not how the ministry sees it, Alvin. Crystal seems to be conducting herself like a Christian woman should even if she’s been divorced. They think this calls a lot of things about you into question just as I said they might. Bishop Beiler is quite worried about the matter. Especially since you’re apparently so fond of Debbie. He thinks upon her almost as a daughter.”
Alvin choked but couldn’t get any words out.
Deacon Mast continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “You do know that Ida Beiler and Minister Kanagy are saying their vows soon?”
“Yah,” Alvin answered, not seeing a connection.
Deacon Mast continued. “Anyway, Minister Kanagy obviously has even a greater interest now in seeing that the Beiler family is kept in gut standing. And we feel that any question about your character must be cleared up.”
“So I’m being made the scapegoat for Minister Kanagy’s fears?” Alvin said. “I protest this in the strongest terms. I have confessed my sins, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Your temper will get you nowhere, Alvin.” Deacon Mast gave Alvin a firm look. “I counsel a humble attitude and a forgiving spirit. Your family has always been among the most faithful in keeping the Ordnung, especially your daett. How were you able to leave all that, and so suddenly, and face excommunication so willingly?”
Alvin hung his head again. “I’ve already been over that, and no explanation is going to persuade you, I’m afraid.” Alvin struggled to keep his voice steady. “So, what is to be done with me?”
Deacon Mast’s face grew even more mournful. “You aren’t helping yourself, Alvin. Surely you can see that with your record, of being out there in the Englisha world, and why you came back—to take over your daett’s farm. We have a right to have questions.”
Alvin stared at the ground. Bitter thoughts raced through his mind. His daett was at the root of this. He had run over to Deacon Mast with the news that Crystal had stopped by. His daett was always at the root of his troubles. But Alvin wouldn’t give up easily—which was a new thought for him. He usually ran from his troubles, but right now there was little he could do but ride out this storm.
Deacon Mast’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Have you got anything more to say, Alvin?”
Alvin shrugged. “Nee, not really.”
Deacon Mast appeared grim. “We think you should voluntarily stay back from communion this fall, Alvin, until this blows over. It would show humility on your part and help restore our trust in you. We’d know that you intend to respect our concerns and listen to our counsel.”
Shocked, Alvin tried to breathe. “You want me to stay back from communion?”
Deacon Mast nodded. “Yah. This would give us all time to figure out what is going on, Alvin.”
Nothing is going on, he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Protests were useless right now. “But what reason shall I give?” he asked slowly.
Deacon Mast shrugged. “Pre-communion church is in a little over a week. That’s the place to deal with this, Alvin. I wanted to let you know, so you’d have plenty of time to think this through. But it would be simple really, and everyone would understand. You can say that you regret bringing in an influence from the outside world, and that you question your own heart on the matter and wish to clear yourself with a few weeks of mourning and withdrawal. You can say you desire all our prayers for the health of your soul. That would be the least you can do.”
“And if I refuse?” Alvin couldn’t believe he’d asked the question, but the words blurted out. A glimpse of Mildred’s face from earlier in the evening flashed through his mind, but he wasn’t sure why.
Deacon Mast appeared troubled. “I make no threats, Alvin. But you know the community works on trust. It would not be gut if we couldn’t trust you any longer. And rejecting our counsel would raise even more questions about your motives and character.”
Alvin nodded. “Then I will accept your counsel. I don’t think it’s fair, but I also don’t wish to make trouble. And I did do what you say I did—rush out into the world and bring shame on my family and the community. What possessed me, I don’t know now. So perhaps this could be a time of cleansing and sorrow for myself.”
Deacon Mast appeared relieved. “It is gut to hear you say these things, Alvin. My heart is much lighter now. Maybe this whole thing can be taken care of with this one small action, and we can all move on.” Deacon Mast held up his hand at the look on Alvin’s face. “I know it doesn’t seem small to you, but in the large scheme of things, it is but a bump in the road. What you have already faced in being excommunicated is much worse than this, Alvin. Remember that.”
But he hadn’t had to actually face people for long while he was excommunicated, Alvin thought. That had been all done at a distance with letters written between him and the deacon. This shame would have to be faced head-on in full view. He’d have to sit there in communion services and allow everyone to see his shame. Alvin paused as another thought burned through him. This would be Debbie’s first communion, and she would partake while he couldn’t. That seemed to add to his shame.
Deacon Mast didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “Soon this will be all over, Alvin. This gesture on your part will go a long way toward settling the ministry’s mind. I’m sure Bishop Beiler’s heart will be encouraged and comforted that Debbie is getting a man who is worthy of her. The bishop thinks quite highly of the girl, almost like his own daughter. So I have nothing but the highest hopes for the two of you. So take courage, Alvin. This is really a small matter.”
“I’ll try to,” Alvin managed, as the deacon untied his horse and climbed back into his buggy. Alvin didn’t move until Deacon Mast was clear down the road and out of sight. He shouldn’t take this so hard, he told himself. It was after all his own fault, but still…
Alvin began to unhitch his team. When he finished he took them into the barn for the night. He shoveled extra oats into their feed boxes and listened to the draft horses noisily chomp their food. This was the life he loved, Alvin reminded himself. And the deacon’s words had been true enough. In the grand scheme of things, one missed communion was a small matter. Still, it didn’t seem right. But what could he say? Rebellion was out of the question. He was through with that option.
Twenty-Two
After dark that evening, Alvin pushed open the front door of the dawdy haus without a knock. This was, after all, his daett’s place, and he was expected tonight for supper. Mildred would have told his daett by now, and if the truth be told, his daett was probably behind Mildred’s invitation. Anything to encourage Alvin’s interest in Mildred and distract him from Debbie.
Alvin squinted in the sudden light of the gas lantern hanging from the ceiling. His daett looked up from rocker with a pleased expression. “Gut evening, son. I see you decided to come.”
“I told Mildred I would,” Alvin muttered.
Mamm was sitting on the other rocker, and Alvin approached for a quick hug
and a peck on the cheek. A faint smile crossed her face. “You’ve come to visit again.”
“Yah, Mamm.” Alvin took a seat on the couch. He turned around for a quick smile when Mildred chirped from the kitchen doorway, “It’s gut you’re here, Alvin. I’ll have everything ready in a minute.”
“No rush,” Alvin said, even though his stomach growled. The smells drifting from the kitchen didn’t help either.
“I see the deacon was here again,” Daett said when Mildred had disappeared.
“Are you happy now?” Alvin made no attempt to hide his bitterness. “They’re wanting me to stay back from communion.”
His daett didn’t look surprised. “Sufferings and humiliations are always gut for a man. And you could use some. You’ve risen way too fast in life, coming back from your time in the world to take over my farm. If I’d had my say-so, you’d have been left in the bann for another year or so.”
“That’s why it wasn’t left in your hands,” Alvin shot back. “And what would we do now if I weren’t here? Mamm needs funds for her doctoring and care. And you sure couldn’t supply it for her.”
His daett didn’t appear fazed by the sharp words. He shrugged. “I admit you speak the truth, but it’s still not gut for you. I’m glad to hear the ministry is taking steps to rein you in. Maybe this will wake you up to what a mistake you’re making by dating that girl Debbie. Those Englisha girls always had an awful pull on you, Alvin. I see that now, and I pray you will wake up in time.”
“Bishop Beiler thinks the world of Debbie,” Alvin said.
That seemed to silence his daett—at least for the moment. He settled back in his rocker.
Mildred appeared in the kitchen doorway again. “It’s ready, everyone! Can’t be allowing the food to grow cold!”
His daett rose with a smile on his face. “She can cook, that girl can. Think about that, Alvin.”
So his daett did have a hand in his invitation tonight, Alvin thought as he helped his mamm to the table. Well, it made no difference. He was here to eat, and that was all.
Mildred stood by the stove as they found their seats. Then she took the one next to him. Alvin knew it was her usual place, but tonight her presence so close rushed over him. It felt so homey, so comfy, and so pleasantly right. Alvin told himself this was his wounded emotions speaking, but he kept his gaze away from Mildred, all the same.
His daett cleared his throat and led out in prayer. When he finished, Mildred handed Alvin the bowl of mashed potatoes so he had to look her way. She was glowing as she smiled…and he smiled back. Was she now blushing? Nee, that must be from the kitchen heat. Not since their school days had he seen Mildred blush. For a moment time stood still. He was back in the schoolroom at his desk and catching her gaze on him.
Alvin dipped out the mashed potatoes. Yah, but those days were over, and he must not imagine things. Mildred was being nice to him, but that was because she worked for his daett. And Mildred understood about Debbie. Hadn’t Mildred told him so often enough herself ?
“Do you like the potatoes?” Mildred’s voice sounded cautious.
Alvin’s laugh sounded strained. “I haven’t tasted them yet. But they look delicious. And the truth is, I’m starving.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Mildred cooed. “Doing those chores by yourself every evening. Your daett was just telling me tonight I should try to work time into my schedule so I can also help you in the evenings too.”
“You don’t have to,” Alvin managed. He couldn’t accept her help twice a day. Debbie would have enough objections if she knew Mildred was in the barn for the morning chores.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mildred sounded quite hopeful.
“I’m sure you have plenty of work in the house,” Alvin protested. But the truth was, had he not thought of this very thing himself while he worked on the chores tonight after the deacon left? He’d wished Mildred was in the barn to take some of the load off his shoulders. And off his soul, Alvin admitted. Was he to blame if Mildred had that kind of effect on him?
His daett’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Mildred’s helping you both mornings and evenings from now on. She’s willing, and we can make do at the house. I’ll do a little more myself. And it’s money better spent on the farm than on housekeeping for us.”
His daett wasn’t known for his concern for the farm, Alvin thought. But he also couldn’t bring himself to turn down the offer of help. Debbie would just have to understand.
“I’d be glad for the help,” he admitted.
Mildred glowed and grinned from ear-to-ear as she gazed at him. Hopefully she wouldn’t give him that look at the Sunday services. She would surely have enough sense not to. But neither could he bring up the matter with her. That would be tacky, to say the least, and downright indecent if he even suggested that Mildred might be in love with him.
“Then it’s decided!” Mildred beamed. “I’m so glad you’re giving me the chance to help out, Alvin. You’re such a wunderbah family.”
“We do have our problems,” Alvin said wryly.
Mildred’s face fell. “Deacon Mast was back again, wasn’t he?”
“Yah, he was,” Daett spoke up. “And it’s a gut thing. Alvin needs to learn a few hard lessons in life.”
Mildred sent a sympathetic look Alvin’s way.
No doubt she wanted to say something, but she didn’t dare in Daett’s presence. But her concern and obvious understanding ran over his bruised emotions like healing oil. And there was nothing wrong with that, he told himself. Hadn’t Mildred stated her true role in their home right now—that of a trusted friend here to help out?
Alvin continued to eat, filling his plate twice while Mildred kept an eagle eye on him. “You sure you don’t want more?”
Alvin gave her a smile. “I’m sure you have dessert yet. Where am I going to put that?”
Mildred’s smile was almost as bright as the lantern light. “Of course there’s dessert, Alvin Knepp! I’d be an awful person if I failed to make at least a decent pie for tonight.”
Mildred stood up with a flourish and went to the kitchen counter, returning with a whipped-cream-topped cherry pie. Alvin’s mouth watered at the sight. The crust looked like it would melt in his mouth.
“Do you think you’ll like that?” Mildred teased. “My best, if I must say so myself.”
“I’ll take a piece,” Daett said.
Mildred didn’t miss a beat. She smiled pleasantly as she cut a large piece. “Is that big enough, Edwin?”
No doubt even Daett’s mouth was watering, Alvin thought. And Daett has seen many a cherry pie in his lifetime. It wasn’t like his mamm hadn’t cooked before her stroke. It had just been so long since either of them had tasted decent cooking.
“How much for you, Alvin?” Mildred smiled at him now.
Alvin gulped hard. “About what Daett had.”
“Oh, you can handle more than that!” Mildred said. She cut an even larger piece. “I saw you working in the fields most of the day. Then doing all those chores by yourself. That makes for a healthy appetite, I’m sure.”
“It does.” Alvin nodded. “I’ll eat for the hunger tomorrow,” he laughed.
Mildred joined in as if he’d said the funniest thing in the world. “You do that, Alvin. Now let me get both of you glasses of milk.”
His mamm didn’t have a piece of pie yet, Alvin noticed when Mildred was getting the milk. He leaned toward her. “Do you want a piece, Mamm?”
His mamm smiled weakly. “I don’t have an appetite like I used to, Alvin. But thank you anyway.”
Mildred was a lot like his mamm used to be—before she had the stroke—motherly and kind. Mamm had written him letters while he was in Philadelphia, always hopeful that he’d return. She’d helped draw him back. That was a lot like what Mildred was trying to do now. Mildred was encouraging him through this hard time in his life, even without knowing all the details.
Mildred returned with the glasses of milk, an
d Alvin drank a deep swallow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his daett do the same. He was more like his daett than he wished to admit. He had the same temper and stubborn ways; they were just expressed differently. Yah, at heart he was his daett’s son.
Alvin shifted on his chair as he thought about this. Maybe he should pay more attention to his daett’s opinions about the girl he dated. But that would be a leap of logic. Just because they were both comfortable right now after they’d been served supper by Mildred, that didn’t mean he should say the wedding vows with her. Mildred had never fascinated him like Debbie had—and still did. That was likely something his daett knew little about. His daett’s love of his mamm had always seemed more of a steady brook compared to the wild dash of emotions Alvin felt for Debbie. Nee, he and his daett might have a lot of things in common, but not everything.
They finished their pie, and Daett led out in a prayer of thanks before he got to his feet. Alvin jumped up and helped take Mamm back to her rocker. Mildred followed them and whispered in his ear, “Do be a gentleman, Alvin, and help me with the dishes.”
“I don’t know,” Alvin said. But he glanced at his daett, who motioned with his head toward the kitchen in agreement.
“Please?” Mildred cooed. “I help you with the chores, and I’ll be out there twice a day now. And I don’t bite; you should know that.”
Alvin grimaced but gave in. He already was comfortable working with her. This wouldn’t be any different from when Mildred helped him in the barn.
“Do you know how to dry dishes?” she teased, holding out a dry towel.
He jerked it away from her. “I’ve done this before, you know.”
“Ah… ” She smiled sweetly. “Then we’re all set.”
Mildred filled the sink with hot water while Alvin carried over the dirty dishes. She scraped them clean and slid the plates into the water.
As she began to wash, she gave him a sideways glance. “Do you want to tell me about Deacon Mast’s visit?”
Alvin hesitated.
“You don’t have to.” She gave him another warm smile. “I just thought it might help, you know, being over there in that big house all by yourself with no one to talk to.”
Finding Love at Home (The Beiler Sisters) Page 15