“It’s more than that, Rose, and you know it.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jonathan lowered his head. “He believes me to be a bad influence in the community. I’ve experienced the world. He’d be perfectly happy if I left. We can’t have anything tainting his perfect community, can we?”
“He’ll change his mind about you, Jonathan. Jest give him time yet.”
“I’d just assumed he’d talked to you too—recently. Why else would you think about leaving? I thought maybe he’d be an influence to keep you away from me, just like before.” Jonathan reached forward, taking her hand in his. “I know what the bishop thought I should do, even before I left, but I couldn’t do it. How could I sit in prison and know that men are dying when I could be helping?”
Rose leaned closer in, determined not to say anything that would hinder his outpouring.
“When the war first started, my brothers helped on the farm, and I took produce to town. I remember the day when one of the grocers refused to buy from me. ‘Do you think it’s fair you bring me potatoes, and I lost two boys … two of my boys?’ he said. I used to play with his sons when I went to the market with Dat. And I thought, how could I go to jail if I could be used to help someone else’s son?” His chin quivered, bringing tears to her eyes.
“I’m sorry that I focused on the rejection I received for your choice. I should have just ignored their comments. I should have heeded no mind to their words. But I’m proud of you, Jonathan. I was here. I heard how people talked, and even then I was proud.”
“You never told me that.”
“I’m telling you now.”
Jonathan stroked the top of her hand with his fingertips. His face glowed with those words as if she’d just given him a special gift.
“I’m glad you told me that, Rose. I’ve been wondering how you felt about me. You see, in my mind, in my heart, nothing has changed between us, even though you tried to push me away. If anything, my feelings for you are stronger than ever.”
His eyes studied hers, and he waited for a response. Heat rose to her cheeks and she wondered if she dared confess her feelings—to spill her heart—when there were so many obstacles that would make their being together impossible.
“Are you going to answer me, Rose?”
She swallowed down her emotion. “Well …” She thought of the tears in Mem’s eyes as she spilled the truth and wondered if Jonathan would feel the same shock.
“Do you care at all?” he asked. “Do you see any hope for our future? Can you at least answer that?”
She nodded once. “Ja, I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have invited you to stay for yesterday’s meal. You ought to know that.”
Jonathan blew out a slow breath. He wanted her to confirm that she hadn’t closed the door to thoughts of them getting married, but the more they sat, the more Rose knew she needed to tell Jonathan the whole truth. And she guessed when she did his smile would disappear.
“You’ll get their favor back, you’ll see,” she continued. “Everyone will see your dedication. It’s not like you left the Amish, left who you were born to be.” The last phrase rung in her ears.
“You don’t understand. Other young men from our community went to prison instead. Wallace believes that by caring for the injured soldiers I was supporting the war.”
“That’s foolish.”
“He thinks I’m going to taint the Amish—”
“Then we don’t have to worry.” Rose’s voice trembled.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe this isn’t the community you need to be in. Maybe there is no right community for either of us now.”
“Either of us? Rose, you have done nothing to cause anyone concern. You’re the most dedicated woman I know. With you—”
The waitress approached, interrupting his words. They both waited for her to put down two steaming cups of coffee before they resumed their conversation. Jonathan took a sip of his, but Rose’s stomach turned just thinking of putting something to her lips. He’s going to see me differently when he knows.
The words stuck to the roof of her mouth like Mem’s peanut butter. She patted her kapp. “It seems the bishop doesn’t want to accept you. And once they discover the truth, well, about me … I’m sure they will turn their back on me too.”
Jonathan’s jaw dropped. He roughly placed his mug down on the table and a small amount of liquid sloshed over the side.
“You aren’t secretly seeing an Englischman, are you?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “How could I be so stupid? The way that cashier was looking at you—”
“No!” The word shot from her lips. “I can’t believe you would think that, say that. That’s the first time I’ve seen that man. Well, at least I think it is. I would never do such a thing.” Rose straightened her spine.
“Then what is it, Rose? I can see something—pain, shame—all over your face.”
Fear gripped Rose’s heart, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer. He might reject her, but at least she wouldn’t have to carry this burden alone.
“Vell, Jonathan, if you think the bishop has a problem with you … you just wait and see what he does with me. When he … when he discovers I’m not Amish.”
It was hard saying the words, but with them came a relief she hadn’t expected. Holding the truth in had taken more from her than she’d thought.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. I know you. I’ve known your family for as long as I could remember. Of course you are Amish.”
“It’s my adopted family.” Her words were no more than a whisper.
He gazed at her a moment, then chuckled and shook his head. “You’re joking.” When she didn’t respond, he studied her face, his expression slowly dimming. “You’re … you’re not joking?”
Rose shook her head. “I—I jest found out.” She expected to cry, but her soul was as frozen as the world outside. Maybe it was her way of protecting her heart. To feel numb was easier than to feel the pain of his rejection.
“Rose … Rose …” The words were like a gentle caress to her ear. “I don’t know what to say. Do you trust me … to tell me the whole story?”
Rose placed her hand over her stomach. “Ja, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to eat.”
Jonathan reached forward and took her hand, squeezing it with concern. “You have to try to eat, Rose. You’re looking pale … and thin. Even my sister mentioned how thin you’ve become.”
When their plates of food were brought to them, Rose did her best to take a few bites, but she mostly just pushed everything around on her plate. Even Jonathan wasn’t too successful at eating much of his lunch.
When Rose mustered up enough courage, she began. “I’ve had nightmares as long as I could remember.” It was the only way she knew to start. She told him about the dreams. She told him about how Mem would come to her and would pray with her. She told Jonathan about the uneasiness she felt every winter—how she felt like she needed to do something, needed to find something. And then she told him the true story of her family.
“Mem would have most likely kept the secret forever if it hadn’t been for the nightmares. And then there were good dreams too. Happy dreams that I’m starting to realize are memories.”
“I never would have thought such a thing. You seem to fit in so well. They are your family. You are a part of them.”
“That’s the way I’ve always felt, but it makes me wonder … What would it be like if I found my real parents, my real siblings? Would I discover a part of myself that I didn’t realize?”
Jonathan placed his fork on his plate and wiped the corners of his lips with a napkin. “So, are you going to find them?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your family. Are you going to find them, Rose?”
Her brows furrowed. “Why … that’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible. We can ask around. I’m sure there are peop
le in Charm who remember your parents, your siblings. Maybe they know something about yer mem and dat’s whereabouts.”
“But what if no one knows anything? It seems like a lot of work just to be disappointed.”
“Maybe you can pray—”
“Just so I can be disappointed with God too? Just to get my hopes up only to have them dashed to the ground?” She pressed her lips together and lowered her voice. “They left me, Jonathan. If they wanted me, they could have figured out a way. It’s not as if Mem and Dat have gone very far. It’s not as if I was the one who moved to California.” The bitterness bubbling up from inside gave Rose a bad taste in her mouth. She pushed her plate away as she realized she hadn’t allowed herself to feel anger toward her parents for their decision. She’d held those feelings back, but now—seeing the confusion and compassion in Jonathan’s gaze—they refused to be dammed up any longer.
“But you have to find them, Rose.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“Ja, you do. Don’t you understand? You’re never going to find peace or allow yerself to be part of a family …” Jonathan’s voice trailed off. “It jest seems like a good idea to come to peace with your past before you plan your future, does it not?”
An unexpected tear moved from the corner of her eye and slid alongside her nose. “I knew you were going to say that.”
“Say what?”
“Find an excuse. Say something that would push a wedge between us. Yer too good of a man to say hurtful words that would break my heart, but if you really do want to stay in this community—to regain your approval—the only way you’ll be able to do that is without me. After all, you already have one strike against you, Jonathan. You don’t need to add another.”
“If you think being adopted by the Yoders makes you any less Amish, why that’s foolish, and anyone who knows you would say the same. I wasn’t telling you to make peace with your past just so I can walk away. Just the opposite. You’re making too much of what I said. I can help—”
Rose lifted her hand, palm out, blocking his words.
“Don’t. Please don’t. Can we just finish eating and pretend I didn’t tell you the truth? Can we talk about the weather and the price of pot roast?” The pain in her chest grew. “And then can you take me home?”
“If that’s how it’s going to be.” His tone was one of sadness, tinged with anger.
“Ja.” Rose nodded her head. “I need to think things through, Jonathan. Really think things through, and I don’t need you around pulling at my heart and complicating things.”
His eyes grew sad at her words, but even though she wished she could take them back, she didn’t. Her life was hard enough without wondering about his place in it. And as much as she’d been excited to see him yesterday, and as much as she’d longed to have someone to talk to, releasing the truth hadn’t provided what she’d hoped. No one could understand, not really.
They ate what they could of their lunch and then took a mostly silent ride home. Was the reality of who she was—what she was—finally sinking in? She’d never heard of anyone not born Amish staying and being baptized Amish. That one woman had tried and proved this to be true. The Amish heritage was one you were born into. That was that.
“I’d like you to pray about finding your family,” he said as they passed the Ault place.
“I might pray …” She knew she would. Not that she ever would try to find them, but maybe she could come to a place of acceptance. “But even if I find them, what will that do? It won’t change anything.”
“You’re right, Rose. Seems to me that even if you find them, you’ll never really find yourself. They are only a small part of who you are. The Yoders are a part, too, but not completely. But maybe if you look to God, seek Him, then you’ll find what your heart wants most of all. And maybe, when you understand His heart, you’ll understand yourself a bit better too.”
“Are you trying to convince me?”
“I’m trying my best.”
Jonathan parked the buggy in front of her house. They sat there for a moment. Neither moved. It was as if they both wondered what to say, what to do.
The way he looked at her. Well, it was the same look he’d given her before he accepted a ride to the train station. A look that said he wasn’t going to see her for a while and he wanted to remember her face.
Panic overwhelmed her. “You know, Jonathan, I just assumed we’d join the church so we could get married. I couldn’t imagine ever living my life without my family and community. But now I wonder. I don’t have to stay in Berlin. I wasn’t born Amish. If I choose not to wear Amish dress … or if I buy my own vehicle, can they shun me? And you …” She turned and grasped the thick fabric of his jacket. “You’ve seen so much. You’ve lived out in the world. Do you really think you could be happy going back to the way things were? Do you really want to live the life of a farmer or delivery man? You could be a doctor.”
“I don’t want to be a doctor.” Jonathan’s voice was sharp. “Just because I have knowledge of the world doesn’t mean I want to live there. Just because I know about medicine doesn’t mean I want to practice it.”
Jonathan climbed down from the wagon and offered her a hand. Instead of studying her, now he barely glanced at her. His mind was on another place—not here. Far from here. He offered her a forced smile, and she thanked him for lunch, and then without looking back she hurried down the path to the front door.
“Rose!” he called to her.
Rose paused and turned. “Ja?”
“Can I come back tomorrow? Can we talk again?”
She studied him for a moment, considering what tomorrow would bring. He’d talk of their future, yet also urge her to make peace with her past. He’d urge her to find her family. He’d offer to help. Though Jonathan meant well, he’d try to convince her that his way was the right one. And he’d be stuck in their Amish community. Then she’d never really know if he was staying because he believed this was the right lifestyle, or staying because he didn’t want to let her go.
“No, Jonathan. I’d rather you not.” Without waiting for his response, she hurried up the porch steps.
Before she’d closed the front door behind her, he was already gone. And the worst part was that Jonathan wasn’t going because the world was calling him. He was going because she was pushing him away.
Twelve
THAT NIGHT ROSE PLAYED CHECKERS WITH MARTHA and then listened as Dat read the Bible in German to the family, yet her mind wasn’t on the game or the words. Instead she slowly came to the realization that forcing Jonathan away hadn’t started today. It had begun with the first letter she’d written to him. The one where she first declared her anger for what he had done.
Dat glanced at her when he finished reading. He paused, as if he was going to ask a question, but before he could Rose stood and moved to the kitchen to grab a candle. “I’m going to bed. I’ve had a headache most of the day. In fact … I’m not sure if I’ll make it to church in the morning.”
Her siblings didn’t seem startled by her words, but the color washed from Mem’s face.
Mem stood, knotting her hands in a ball in front of her. “Do you need me to come with you, Rose? Do you need to talk?”
Rose turned away. “Ne. I don’t want you to catch what I have. I’d rather jest be alone.” She moved down the hall to her room, not wanting to know Mem’s response. Not wanting to feel the waves of pain that surely radiated from her parents. It wasn’t like it was their fault. They’d done everything for her. But Rose knew that sometimes those who hurt the most were also the most innocent.
And those who were accused—like Jonathan—were also often noble … despite what anyone thought.
Rose placed the candle on her side table and nearly held her breath as she moved to the trunk. Jonathan’s third letter was one she’d read only once, because once had been enough.
Dear Rose,
The Germans decided they weren’t ready to give up.
Red blood on white snow tells me that man is willing to fight for his convictions, but he’s willing to fight even harder not to be shamed.
One of my jobs is to clean wounds and wrap bandages. The medical reason is to stop infections, but bandages also hide the wounds that no one wants to see.
It’s hard work, but to get me through I think of you. I think of returning to you. I think of your smile. I know I should pray yet, but prayer reminds me of the problems. Instead, thoughts of you make me think past the problems to the future.
Jonathan had stopped there. He must have come back and finished the letter at a different time. The ink looked different. The script looked different. And the words—well, she had no doubt what had happened. In between the first and second part of his letter, her own had arrived. The one where she’d poured out her pain and anger. She’d wondered how he could have done this to her. He had escaped, but she was the one living in the community. The one who heard the disapproval of the bishop. Who lived with the stares of church members.
She had been ashamed. It had been winter and the darkness had descended on her soul. Along with that, feelings of emptiness and of missing Jonathan. Rose couldn’t remember everything she’d written, but it was clear that her fears had shouted louder than hope’s whispers.
She’d been selfish, she realized now. She’d shown Jonathan her wounds, but had given him no way to bandage them up. She could see now that his words meant to do that, but they fell short.
I received your letter, Rose. I won’t lie and tell you that even though you feel as you do I’m confident we’ll make it through this. I’m not. Men die that should be able to pull through, and those who I’m certain have no fighting chance keep on fighting. When I weighed joining and leaving and coming home, I thought we would pull through. But now I’m not so sure.
You tell me you love me, and I believe that. If it wasn’t for love, then your emotions wouldn’t be so strong. Those strong emotions are the only thing that give me hope. A wound hurts more from a friend than an enemy. My leaving hurts more because your heart has already attached itself to mine. And because of that I’ll keep writing you. And because of that you’ll keep reading the letters I send. And maybe when I’m set to return and I write to tell you that I do want to marry you, the strong pain will remind you of my strong love and we’ll be able to move past this and struggle to fit into the community we both love, despite what you see as my great betrayal.
Christmas Gift for Rose (9780310336822) Page 8