Breath of Spring

by Hubbard, Charlotte

  Chapter Eighteen

  Annie Mae sat between Nellie and Millie Glick on the pew bench, with Sara in her lap. Peering between the bearded and clean-shaven faces on the men’s side of the room, she focused on Josh, Joey, and Timmy. Jerusalem was Nazareth’s side-sitter, so she couldn’t help with the kids during the church and wedding ser vices—and when her little brothers had clamored to sit with Adam, he’d seemed pleased that they wanted to. And wasn’t that a fine surprise? It was almost as gratifying as the way the boys had been behaving like perfect little gentlemen all morning instead of wiggling and punching at each other, as they often did.

  The church service, almost three hours long, had just ended, so Annie Mae took advantage of these few moments to catch up. “It’s so gut to see ya!” she whispered as she grasped Millie’s hand. “Been way too long!”

  The freckles on Millie’s nose shifted when she grinned. “Oh, the long part is watchin’ after the grandparents. It’s like livin’ in a funeral parlor,” she murmured as she rolled her eyes. “Told Mamm I had to get outta there today. Hopin’ to catch Ira for a while . . . maybe even skip out on the dinner.”

  Millie scanned the men’s side then, probably trying to catch Ira’s eye. Annie Mae noted how her redheaded friend, once so carefree, seemed a lot older than her sixteen years now. Maybe I’ve put on some age, too, she reflected. But this was no time to think about it. Nazareth and Tom were taking their places before Bishop Vernon Gingerich—Jerusalem’s fiancé, from Cedar Creek—and Bishop Jeremiah Shetler from Morning Star, who’d been so helpful when her dat had fallen from grace.

  “We gather now for a joyous, momentous occasion,” Vernon began in a resonant voice. “It’s my honor—truly a high point in my life—to join my longtime friend, Tom Hostetler, with Nazareth Hooley, who so beautifully complements his strengths and compensates for his few weaknesses. How sweet it is to behold God’s plan and purpose blossoming into love for these, His two devoted servants.”

  Annie Mae sighed languidly. Vernon Gingerich spoke in such a rich, melodic voice that everyone in the huge room—which had been expanded by taking down the wall partitions to accommodate more than two hundred guests—settled in to listen to this familiar wedding ceremony. How wonderful it felt to be seated here with Nellie and Millie, alongside Rebecca—who had dressed in Plain attire, as she did for weddings. Rhoda and Rachel, Miriam and Naomi, sat a few pews closer to the front, among other women she’d known all her life. Tom’s four married kids and their families had come, as well as dozens of other Hostetlers and Hooleys from other districts and states. Literally everyone from around Willow Ridge was here, too, except for Preacher Gabe, who was home with his bedridden wife, Wilma.

  These are my people . . . my family now, Annie Mae realized with a deep sense of satisfaction. She felt surprised yet pleased that Nellie had recently decided to join the church, as well—forfeiting her rumspringa to commit herself to the Old Order at a very young age. Annie Mae smiled at her sister, feeling a deeper kinship . . . feeling safe in the belief that they and their younger siblings would be well cared for, as one of the benefits of coming into the fold.

  “ ‘. . . charity suffereth long and is kind; charity envieth not,’” their deacon, Reuben Riehl, was reading from the big German Bible. “‘Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up; does not behave itself unseemly . . . is not easily provoked—’”

  The loud wham! of a door made everyone suck in their breath and look toward the kitchen.

  Annie Mae, however, remained facing forward, hugging little Sara closer as fear jangled her nerves. The tattoo of a man’s boots crossed the kitchen floor in a familiar beat as she exchanged a concerned glance with Nellie. The hair at her nape prickled.

  “It’s Dat,” her sister whispered, gripping Annie Mae’s wrist.

  The men seated across the room confirmed the identity of their intruder with expressions of disbelief. Ben Hooley stood up, and Bishop Tom took a step back so he, too, could see what was happening.

  “Hiram, you know full well that you’re disrupting a sacred ceremony,” Bishop Shetler said sternly. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “I’ve come for my children.” Her dat’s terse reply came from a few yards behind Annie Mae’s pew bench. “No one has the right to stand between a man and his family—nor should you be harboring my eldest daughter, who kidnapped them.”

  Annie Mae prayed for God’s protection, or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow her. Across the crowded room she saw Josh and Joey craning for a look at their father, while Timmy burrowed into Adam’s lap the same way Sara was clinging to her.

  “And why has it taken ya five days to come lookin’ for them?” Bishop Tom queried. “With the passin’ of so much time this week, I figured ya were willin’ for Annie Mae to take on the—”

  “I just returned from Ohio,” her father shot back. “I was gathering souls for—”

  “You’ve got electricity in Higher Ground,” Bishop Tom countered as he stepped toward the aisle. While his voice remained low and controlled, he appeared every bit as adamant as the man he opposed. “So ya can’t tell me you’ve not got a phone in your home, as well—and ya probably carry a cell nowadays. Are ya sayin’ Delilah didn’t call ya when Annie Mae reclaimed her siblings?”

  Annie Mae slumped lower on the bench, cradling Sara’s head to her shoulder to muffle her crying. Her little sister was shaking all over—and what did it say about conditions in the new Knepp household if this toddler was so terrified of her own father?

  “That’s neither here nor there,” her dat answered in a rising voice. “I’ve come for my children—”

  “Is Delilah your wife, Hiram?” Ben Hooley demanded. “We hear she’s young enough to be your daughter.”

  Annie Mae cringed as she recalled her confrontation with Delilah . . . how the kids were screaming and scattering across the snow to escape the paddle in her hand. Nellie looked too scared to breathe, for fear she’d draw Dat’s attention. From the sound of it, he was now standing at the end of the bench behind theirs. Annie Mae was grateful to be sitting in the center of the pew with Millie, Rebecca, and Hannah Brenneman between her and her father.

  “Delilah and I are one in the eyes of the Lord,” Dat stated firmly.

  “That’s your answer? Marriage as you see it now? Well, for us, it’s not gut enough,” Bishop Tom blurted. “I can’t allow these innocent children to return to a household founded upon sin and filled with such depravity.”

  The women seated in front of Annie Mae were whispering behind their hands, glancing toward Hiram in dismay. A few more of the men from Willow Ridge rose, taking their stand.

  “Don’t go spouting off about morality to me, Tom Hostetler, considering how you were sneaking around with Nazareth before your first wife died,” Dat retorted. “I am their father—”

  “There’s a difference between begettin’ kids and bein’ their dat,” Ben cut in stiffly. “You’ve no more integrity than a tomcat, feedin’ an unsuspectin’ young woman pretty promises so she’d be your live-in babysitter—”

  “And what of the welts on Sara’s and Timmy’s legs?”

  As “ohhs” and more whispering hissed around the room, Jerusalem Hooley rose from her bench in the front. Annie Mae squeezed her eyes shut, recalling the sick feeling she’d gotten when she’d helped with the children’s baths that first night. Delilah had indeed left the marks of her incompetent wrath on the two littlest ones . . . Joey and Josh were harder to catch.

  Jerusalem turned to face Hiram, her face tight with disgust. “I was appalled to see that their little behinds had been whipped with some sort of switch until blood was drawn,” she continued in a horrified rush. “And I know that you, Hiram, would rather be anywhere than near your children when they’re misbehavin’—”

  “And you of all people should know that children need discipline!” he countered to drown her out. “Spare the rod and—”

  “But they’re only two and three years o
ld!” Miriam cried out as she, too, stood and turned around. “What could those children have possibly done to deserve such a beating?”

  “Sounds to me like this Delilah’s no more than a child herself,” Nazareth chimed in from the front. “She’s the one who needs the switch taken to her!”

  “Bishop Tom did the right thing, takin’ in your family,” Ben declared loudly. “And after what-all we’ve learned, Hiram, had Tom not done it, I would’ve made a home for your kids myself rather than let you take them.”

  “Jah, we’ve got a place for them, as well,” Dan Kanagy said as he rose to join the other men. “I believe God has clearly been workin’ out His will, after He saw how you used your twins’ sleigh accident to wrangle land from that English fella. The Lord’s moved you out of Willow Ridge to do your dirty work elsewhere, and I say gut riddance.”

  “Your kids are home now.” Ezra Brenneman spoke out from his wheelchair. “Right where they’re supposed to be.”

  As Nellie’s arm went around her shoulders, Annie Mae huddled with her two sisters. How humiliating, to have the details of their family’s separation coming to light in such a public way. But she was grateful that Dat had shown up here, where so many others would stand up for her and the kids, rather than confronting her when she was alone.

  As Vernon Gingerich encouraged the crowd to stop chattering, Bishop Tom stepped down the side aisle until he was only a few feet in front of her father. “Despite the example you’ve set with your questionable behavior, Annie Mae is joinin’ the Old Order church,” he announced. “All of us admire the way she’s supportin’ the kids herself, remainin’ a maidel to—”

  Her father’s derisive laughter rang around the room. “Annie Mae’s been sneaking out with boys since she was thirteen—not to mention seeing Luke Hooley at his age. So do you really believe she’s sincere?” he taunted. “My city commissioner tells me she’s no more honorable than—”

  Something inside Annie Mae exploded, like a pie blowing up in the oven. Gripping Sara, she shot up off the pew bench. It was time to speak her piece instead of hiding from this conversation, which was being carried on as though she and the kids weren’t present. “I don’t believe a thing Yonnie Stoltzfus says,” she blurted. “I want nothin’ more to do with him, after he tricked me into goin’ to Higher Ground. And especially now that he’s workin’ for you!”

  The crowd sucked in its breath, leaving the room hot and airless as Annie Mae held her father’s daunting gaze. He hadn’t taken off his long black coat and broad-brimmed hat, as though he’d figured it would be a quick in-and-out to reclaim his children. His scowl deepened, and with his short, pointed beard and his coal-black hair he resembled the Devil. “Your insolence and lies will send you straight to hell, Annie Mae,” he stated. “I cannot allow my children to stay here—”

  Suddenly her dat stepped into the row, heedless of Hannah’s and Rebecca’s shrieks as he grabbed for Sara. The little girl screamed and struggled to escape him, which made Timmy start wailing on the other side of the room. Annie Mae backed farther down the row, as Tom, Ben, Dan, and some of the other men rushed over to restrain her father. The women scrambled over the benches, crying out for God’s mercy, while Millie and the other girls around Annie Mae scattered as though afraid for their lives.

  Annie Mae’s heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t breathe, but she held tight to her little sister. Oh, what a mess this was . . . a scene like she’d never dared to imagine as four men surrounded her dat.

  “Hiram, this is wrong and ya know it!” Tom beseeched him as he pinned one of Dat’s arms behind his back.

  “Think what you’re doin’ to your family, carryin’ on this way,” Ben chimed in as he grabbed his other arm. Dan Kanagy and Micah Brenneman had planted themselves between Annie Mae and her father, looking ready to pummel Dat if he advanced any farther.

  Seeing a cleared path between the pew benches, Annie Mae scrambled over to where some of the women stood. Rushing into Miriam’s arms with Sara, she pressed her face against the stalwart woman’s shoulder. She was so thankful that Nellie had gotten over here, too . . . grateful that Matthias Wagler and other fellows had gathered around Adam and her little brothers to form a shield. Yet who would’ve dreamed they would need to?

  Finally her dat relented. He stepped back into the aisle, shaking off the grips of those who held him. His face was still contorted with anger, but he didn’t seem inclined to come after Sara again. “Fine,” he spat. He brushed off his coat as though to rid it of any vermin the men might have left on its sleeves. “I’ll return to Willow Ridge with the police,” he threatened. “We’ll let the authorities handle this situation.”

  “The only authority here is God, Hiram,” Vernon intoned as he, too, came to stand before Annie Mae’s father. “It appalls me that you’ve forgotten that on so many levels.”

  Dat glowered. “Ah, so it’s fine for you folks to call the cops on me for a parking violation, but when I—”

  “Not a one of us will allow you to take your children back under these circumstances,” Jeremiah Shetler stated. “I’m sorry they’ve witnessed this interruption of a sacred ceremony and further evidence of your arrogance, Hiram. You’ve been excommunicated from Willow Ridge for several reasons, and you’re not welcome here for several more.”

  “As though any of you can stop me from coming!” Dat countered, looking ready to spit on the fellows who’d confronted him. “You’ve not seen the last of me. Mark my words.”

  With swift strides he crossed the room to glare at Adam, who held Timmy to his shoulder while Josh and Joey clung to him from either side. “And don’t think you’re man enough to protect my children from me, Wagler—not after the way you broke into my home and helped Annie Mae steal things from it. You’re a den of vipers, all of you!” he declared to the crowd.

  With that, her father stalked from the crowded room, pausing to glower one more time at Annie Mae. Silence rang for several moments after his loud, rapid footsteps and the slam of the kitchen door died away.

  “Praise be to God for His grace and protection,” Vernon declared in a reverent voice. “I believe a few moments of silent prayer are in order, to restore a proper sense of dignity and respect before we resume Tom and Nazareth’s ceremony.”

  Annie Mae exhaled . . . wiped the tears from little Sara’s face . . . rejoined Nellie in the pew bench alongside Millie and Rebecca and the other girls. She rested her head on her sister’s tiny shoulder, inhaling Sara’s innocent sweetness, ever so grateful that this lamb hadn’t been snatched from her.

  What would I do without You and these gut friends you’ve surrounded us with, Lord? she prayed. I don’t deserve the gift of Your love, but I promise I’ll do my very best for my brothers and sisters . . . and I thank Ya that Adam was spared Dat’s wrath, as well. Be with us in the coming days, for who can tell what Dat might do next?

  As the women around her raised their heads, Annie Mae opened her eyes. Order and rightness had been restored, both within Bishop Tom’s home and in her soul. She still felt jittery from the way her father had charged between the pews . . . would recall his threatening expression for a long while. But as Vernon Gingerich began the exchange of Tom and Nazareth’s vows, she relaxed. What a joy it was to behold the love on their faces as they solemnly repeated the words that would bind them as man and wife.

  And what a surprise to see that Adam was gazing right at her.

  Annie Mae blinked, yet she didn’t look away. How handsome he looked in his black vest and white shirt—and how manly, with Timmy in his lap. Her little brother closed his eyes to suck his thumb, comforted and comfortable. She’d rarely seen Adam hold a child this way, and her heartbeat eased into a steady thrum. While she still burned with curiosity about the motorcycle parked in his barn, Annie Mae treasured the gift of this moment when Adam was reaching out to her in an eloquent silence that said so much, as the ceremony continued.

  She smiled. And so did he.

  Chapter Ni
neteen

  Adam spent the rest of the morning getting up his courage.

  After Hiram Knepp’s intrusion, when Adam had watched so many from Willow Ridge stand up to their former bishop—and had then beheld Annie Mae’s fierce bravery as she faced her father—the rest of the ceremony went right by him. He was aware of Vernon and Jeremiah preaching and leading Tom and Nazareth in their vows, yet all he heard, again and again, was Annie Mae’s vehement denouncement of Yonnie and his connection to Hiram. All he saw was the expression of a lioness as she clutched Sara in the face of her father’s declaration that she was going to hell. Only when Hiram had grabbed for her sister did Annie Mae back away and seek safety.

  Here was a woman he looked up to . . . in more ways than one.

  Yet the idea of asking Annie Mae for a date made him falter. What if she said no?

  But what if she says yes? he fretted. What if you take her for a ride this afternoon and your tongue ties into knots? After knowing her all your life, what’ll you find to talk about? What’ll impress a young woman who’s raising her brothers and sisters? She’s way out of your league. . . .

  And yet, Adam felt amazed that he was even considering a date, after years of denying himself the company of young women he believed he could never take care of.

  So don’t think of it as a date. Who says it has to be forever—or even more than this one time?

  Later in the afternoon, he watched Annie Mae scrape plates and clear tables after folks had finished the main course of a wedding feast that had filled him in so many ways. Miriam, Naomi, and the other women had outdone themselves with the “roast,” made of succulent chicken and savory stuffing . . . mashed potatoes and sweet, creamed celery, as well as glazed carrots, an array of fruit salads . . . warm, fresh bread upon which butter made from Bishop Tom’s cream had melted like liquid gold. It was time for pie and other sweets now, yet Adam’s stomach seemed so full of butterflies he didn’t think he would taste his dessert—even if he got a slice of the same spicy apple pie like Annie Mae had left on his wagon seat awhile back.