“Wait a minute, Anna.” Mom propelled herself back up the ramp. “We need to talk about this, don’t you think?”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m kind of tired.”
Rachel gulped. If Anna were a few years younger, she would have had a switch taken to her backside for talking to their mother that way. What in the world had come over her?
“It may be getting late, and you might be tired, but this is a serious matter, and it won’t wait until tomorrow,” Mom said with a shake of her head.
Anna pointed at Rachel, then Elizabeth. “Can’t we talk someplace else? No use bringing the whole family into this.”
Mom folded her arms and set her lips in a straight line, indicating her intent to hold firm. “Maybe your sisters can learn something from this discussion. I think it would be a good idea if they stay—at least until your daed returns. Then we’ll let him decide.”
Rachel sucked in a deep breath and held it while she waited to see what Anna’s next words would be.
“Guess I don’t have much say in this.” Anna folded her arms and dropped to the porch swing with a groan.
Elizabeth moved back to the checkerboard. “Are you gonna make your next move, Rachel? I just took one of your kings while you were starin’ off into space.”
Rachel jerked her thoughts back to the game they’d been playing. “I don’t see how you managed that ... unless you were cheating. I was winning this game, you know.”
Elizabeth thrust out her chin. “I wasn’t cheating!”
Rachel was about to argue the point further, but the sound of her father’s heavy footsteps on the stairs drew her attention away from the game again.
“Joseph’s tending the horse.” Dad looked down at Anna, who was pumping the swing back and forth like there was no tomorrow. “Now, are you ready to tell us where you’ve been all day?” A muscle in his cheek began to twitch, and Rachel knew it wasn’t a good sign. “Why aren’t you wearing your apron and kapp, Anna?”
Rachel flinched, right along with her older sister. Their father didn’t often get angry, but when he was mad enough to holler like that, everyone knew they had better listen.
“I ... uh...” Anna stared at the floor. “Can’t we talk about this later?”
Dad slapped his hands together, and everyone, including Mom, jumped like a bullfrog. “We’ll talk about it now!”
Anna’s chin began to quiver. “Couldn’t I speak to you and Mom in private?”
He glanced down at Mom, who had wheeled her chair right next to the swing. “What do you think, Rebekah?”
“I guess it might be best.” She turned her chair around so she was facing Rachel and Elizabeth. “You two had better clear away the game. It’s about time for you to get washed up and ready for bed anyway.”
“But, Mom,” Elizabeth argued. “I’m almost ready to skunk Rachel and—”
Rachel shook her head. “You’d better do as Mom says. You can skunk me some other time.” She grabbed up the checkerboard, let the pieces fall into her apron, folded up the board, then turned toward the front door. As curious as she was about where Anna had been and why she’d come home without her kapp or apron, Rachel knew it was best to obey her parents. She would have a heart-to-heart talk with her rebellious sister tomorrow morning. Until then, she’d be doing a whole lot of praying.
***
As Anna sat on the porch swing, waiting for her sisters to go inside the house, her mind swirled with confusion. If she told her folks the truth about where she had been all day, it wouldn’t just get her in trouble. She would be breaking a promise she’d made not to say anything yet about her plans.
She closed her eyes and clenched her fingers until they dug into the palms of her hands. If I make up a story to tell Mom and Dad, and they find out later that I lied to them, they’ll be crushed, and I’ll be in big trouble; that’s for certain sure.
Someone touched Anna’s knee, and she opened her eyes. Her mother had pushed her wheelchair even closer to the swing, and her father stood directly behind the chair. “Anna, are you ready to tell us where you’ve been all day?” Mom asked in a near whisper.
Anna swallowed around the lump in her throat as tears blinded her vision.
“You’d best be tellin’ us now.” Dad’s wrinkled forehead and squinted eyes let Anna know that he was nearly out of patience.
“I ... uh ... was with Silas Swartley all day,” Anna said in a shaky voice. She sniffed a couple of times and blinked in an attempt to clear away her tears.
Mom’s lips turned into a smile. “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place? We have nothing against Silas; you know that.”
“What about your apron, cape, and kapp?” Dad motioned to the front of Anna’s dress, devoid of its cape and apron. “You had all three on when you left home earlier. How come you’re not wearing any of ’em now?”
Anna drew in a deep breath and blew it out quickly. “Well, I ... uh ... the thing is—”
“Quit thumpin’ around the shrubs and tell us the truth!”
“I’m not wearing my apron and cape because I spilled ice cream all over myself.”
“And the head covering?”
Anna’s face heated up. She was getting in deeper with each lie she told, but she felt like a fly trapped in a spider’s web and didn’t know what to do.
“Answer your daed’s question, Anna,” Mom prompted. “Where’s your kapp, and why aren’t you wearing it now?”
“Silas ... well, he wanted to see how I would look with my hair down, so I took the head covering off and removed the pins from my hair for a short time.”
Mom gasped, and Dad stomped his foot.
“I know it was wrong, but it felt right at the time, and after I pinned up my hair again, I forgot to put the kapp back in place.” Anna glanced toward the buggy shed. “Guess I left the kapp, along with the apron and cape, inside the buggy.”
“We’re glad you and Silas are courting, but we can’t have you running off like that without telling us where you’re going,” Mom said, reaching out to pat Anna’s knee again.
Dad shook his finger in Anna’s face. “And I won’t stand for you taking off your kapp and letting your hair down in front of Silas. Is that understood?”
“Jah.”
“You’re a baptized member of the Amish church now, not some eegesinnisch—willful—teenager going through her rumschpringe days.”
Anna stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I know, Dad, and I’m sorry. Don’t know what came over me, really.”
Mom smiled. “You’re in lieb, that’s what. Young people do all kinds of things they’d not do otherwise when they’re in love with someone.”
“That doesn’t give her the right to be doin’ things she knows are wrong and could get her in trouble with the church,” Dad put in.
Mom lifted her hand from Anna’s knee and clasped her hand. “She knows what she did was wrong, and I’m sure she won’t do it again. Right, daughter?”
Anna nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew what she had really done today wouldn’t set well with her folks when they learned the truth, and the lies she’d just told them had only made it worse. But she didn’t feel she could undo any of it now. Later, once everything had been said and done, she would tell them both the truth. In the meantime, she had to keep the promise she’d made for a little while longer.
CHAPTER 6
When Rachel came downstairs the following morning, she found Mom and Anna busy fixing breakfast.
“You’re late.” Anna stirred the oatmeal so hard Rachel feared it would fly right out of the pot. “How do you think you’re going to run a house of your own if you can’t be more reliable?”
“Anna Beachy, just because you got up on the wrong side of the bed doesn’t give you the right to be schlecht with your sister this morning.” Mom sat at the kitchen table, buttering a stack of toast, and the look on her face let Rachel know she wouldn’t tolerate anyone being crabby this morni
ng.
Rachel hurried to set the table, deciding it was best to keep quiet.
Anna brought the kettle of oatmeal to the table and plopped it on a pot holder, nearly spilling the contents. “Like as not, you’ll be getting married someday, Rachel, and I was wondering if you’d care to have my hope chest.”
Rachel glanced at her mother, but Mom merely shrugged and continued buttering the toast. Anna was sure acting funny. Of course, she’d been acting strange for several weeks now, but today she seemed even more unsettled. Rachel could hardly wait until breakfast was over and she had a chance to corner Anna for a good talk. She was dying to know where her sister had been last night and what had happened during her discussion with their folks.
“I’ve already got a start on my own hope chest, but thanks anyway.” Rachel gave Anna a brief smile.
“I’d sure like to go to Emma Troyer’s today,” Mom said, changing the subject. “She’s feeling kind of poorly and could probably use some help with laundry and whatnot. Trouble is, I’ve got too much of my own things needing to be done here and out at the greenhouse, as well.”
Anna’s eyes brightened some. “I’ll go,” she said almost too quickly as she went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of milk.
Mom nodded. “If you don’t dally and come straight home, then I suppose it would be all right. You’ll have to wait until this afternoon, though. I need help baking pies this morning.”
“This afternoon will be just fine.”
Rachel could hardly believe her ears. Wasn’t Anna in any kind of trouble for coming home late last night and not wearing her apron, cape, and kapp? What sort of story had she fed the folks so that Mom was allowing her to take the buggy out again today? Worse yet, if Anna went gallivanting off, Rachel would probably be asked to help in the greenhouse for the second day in a row. She’d planned to do some bird-watching this afternoon and maybe, if there was enough time, go fishing at the river. From the way things looked, she’d most likely be working the whole day, so there would be no chance of her having any kind of fun.
“Did I hear someone mention pies?” Elizabeth asked as she skipped into the room. “I sure hope you’re plannin’ to make a raspberry cream pie, ’cause you know it’s my favorite.”
Mom reached out and gave the child a little pat on the backside when she sidled up to the table. “If you’re willing to help Perry pick raspberries, maybe we could do up a few of your favorite pies.” Her forehead wrinkled slightly. “Our raspberry bushes are loaded this summer, and if they’re not picked soon, the berries are liable to fall clean off. Now that would surely be a waste, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth’s lower lip jutted out. “I don’t like to pick with Perry. He always throws the green berries at me.”
“I’ll have a little talk with your brother about that. Now, run outside and call the menfolk in for breakfast.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Elizabeth scurried out of the room, and Mom clicked her tongue. “That girl has more energy than she knows what to do with.”
Rachel smiled, but Anna just took a seat at the table and sat staring across the room as though she were in a daze.
A few minutes later, Dad and the brothers came in along with Elizabeth, whose exuberance continued to show as she rushed over to the table.
“Slow down,” Dad admonished. “The food’s not going anywhere.”
“I know, but I’m hungry,” the child said as she pulled out a chair beside Mom’s wheelchair.
Dad merely grunted in response, and everyone else took their seats, as well. As soon as the silent prayers had been said, Elizabeth began eating.
“Guess you really were hungry,” Mom said with a chuckle.
Rachel glanced over at Anna, who seemed more intent on pushing the spoon around in her bowl than in eating any of the oatmeal she had prepared. If only she could get into Anna’s head and figure out what she was thinking.
Conversation at the table was kept to a minimum. Everyone seemed anxious to finish the meal and get on with their day. When breakfast was over and the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, Anna excused herself to go feed the hogs, and Rachel headed to the henhouse to gather eggs. After she was done, she hoped she might be able to have a little chat with her big sister.
With basket in hand, Rachel started across the yard, wishing she could go for a long walk. The scent of green grass kissed by early morning dew and the soft call of a dove caused a stirring in her heart. There was no time for a walk or even for lingering in the yard, because she had chores to do and knew she had best get them done quickly if she wanted to catch Anna before she left.
A short time later, Rachel reached under one of their fattest hens and retrieved a plump, brown egg. A few more like that, and she’d soon have the whole basket filled. By the time she had finished the job, ten chunky eggs rested in the basket, and several cranky hens pecked and fussed at Rachel for disturbing their nests.
“You critters, hush now. We need these eggs a heap more than you, so shoo!” She waved her hands, and the hens all scattered.
When an orange and white barn cat brushed against Rachel’s leg and began to purr, she placed the basket on a bale of straw and plopped down next to it. She enjoyed all the barnyard critters. They seemed so content with their lot in life. Not like one person she knew, who suddenly seemed so dissatisfied and couldn’t give Silas the time of day.
“What am I going to do, Whiskers?” Rachel whispered. “I’m in love with someone, and he don’t even know I’m alive. All he thinks about is my older sister.” Her eyes drifted shut as an image of Silas flooded her mind. She saw him standing in the meadow, holding his straw hat in one hand and running his long fingers through his dark chestnut hair. She imagined herself in the scene, walking slowly toward Silas with her arms outstretched. Closer and closer she came to him, until...
“Sleepin’ on the job, are you?”
Rachel’s eyes popped open, and she snapped her head in the direction of the deep voice that had pulled her out of her pleasant reverie. “Joseph, you about scared me to death, sneaking up that way.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t really sneaking, but I sure thought you’d gone off to sleep there in your chair of straw.” He sat down beside her. “What were you thinking about that put such a satisfied smile on your face?”
Rachel gave Joseph’s hat a little yank so it drooped down over his eyes. “I’ll never tell.”
Joseph righted his hat and jabbed her in the ribs with his elbow. “Like as not, it’s probably some fellow you’ve got on your mind. My guess is maybe you and Anna have been bit by the summer love bug.”
Rachel jabbed him right back. “I wouldn’t talk if I was you. Anyone with halfway decent eyesight can see how much you care for Pauline.”
“Pauline doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend. When she came back to Pennsylvania after her time of living in Ohio, I’d thought maybe I might have a chance, but she doesn’t seem to know I’m alive.” He gave his right earlobe a quick tug. “I wonder if it’s our age difference that bothers her, or maybe she just doesn’t find me appealing.”
Rachel touched his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t take it personal if I was you. I’ve got a hunch that Pauline’s thinking about the age difference, same as Silas.”
Joseph’s eyebrows lifted. “That makes no sense, Rachel. Silas and Anna are the same age.”
Rachel could have bit her tongue. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up telling her big brother that she was crazy in love with Silas and wished like everything that he loved her, too.
“Speaking of Anna, has she ever told you that she’s in love with Silas?”
Joseph leaned over to stroke the cat’s head, for Whiskers was now rubbing against his leg. “She hasn’t said anything to me personally, but she’s been acting mighty strange here of late. I hear tell she got in pretty late last night; and some other times, Anna’s whereabouts haven’t been accounted for, either. What
other reason could she have for acting so sneaky, unless she’s been seeing Silas in secret?”
Rachel remembered Silas saying he was going to Paradise yesterday and that he hoped to find Anna there. Could she possibly have spent the day with him? She really wanted to know.
Rachel grabbed the basket of eggs and jumped up. “I’ve got to get these back to the house. See you later, Joseph!” She tore out of the barn and dashed toward the hog pen, where she hoped to find Anna still feeding the sow and her brood of piglets. In her hurry, she tripped over a rock and nearly fell flat on her face. “Ach! The last thing I need this morning is to break all the eggs I’ve gathered.”
She walked a little slower, but disappointment flooded her soul when she saw that Anna wasn’t at the pigpen.
Back at the house, Rachel found Mom, Anna, and Elizabeth rolling out pie dough at the kitchen table. Each held a wooden rolling pin, and Rachel noticed that Elizabeth had more flour on her clothes than she did on the heavy piece of muslin they used as a rolling mat.
“You’re just in time,” Mom said with a nod of her head. “Why don’t you add some sugar to the bowl of raspberries on the cupboard over there?”
Rachel put the eggs in the refrigerator, then went to the sink to wash her hands. “Elizabeth, it sure didn’t take you and Perry long to pick those berries. How’d you get done so fast?”
“Mom helped.” Elizabeth gave Rachel a wide grin. “Her wheelchair fits fine between the rows, and she can pick faster’n anybody I know.”
Mom chuckled. “When you’ve had as many years’ practice as me, you’ll be plenty fast, too.”
Rachel glanced at Anna. She was rolling her piecrust real hard—like she was taking her frustrations out on that clump of sticky dough. Every once in a while, she glanced at the clock on the far wall and grimaced. Rachel figured this probably wasn’t a good time to be asking her sister any questions. Besides the fact that Anna seemed a might testy, Mom and Elizabeth were sitting right there. It didn’t take a genius to know Anna wasn’t about to bare her soul in front of them.
The Hope Chest Page 6