Tears glistened in Mary’s eyes. “No, but how do I explain, Betsy?” Mary turned to clutch her sister’s arm.
Betsy didn’t hide her alarm. “Something is wrong!”
“Yah, very wrong,” Mary agreed. “I may as well be honest.”
“What happened?” Betsy held the door wide. “Come in,” she said, as if that would help with the tragedy her sister had obviously experienced. Mary never came home early.
“Mrs. Gabert, the older lady you met the other day when you walked me down to the co-op—”
“Has something happened to her?” Betsy guessed. “Did she pass away?”
Mary shook her head.
“What then?”
“I stopped by this morning…” Mary’s words petered out, and she gazed toward the Adirondack foothills.
Betsy closed the front door and waited.
“Her grandson was there, and…I can’t say it, Betsy. I simply can’t.”
“What is wrong?” Mamm interrupted from the bedroom door.
“I came home early because of the storm,” Mary said with a weak smile. “I see that Betsy can use some help with the wash, so I’m glad I did.”
“That is thoughtful of you,” Mamm allowed as Mary hurried past them and whisked up the stairwell.
“She’s home early,” Mamm said in Betsy’s direction.
“I know,” Betsy said. “I’m going to the basement to set the wash lines.”
Mamm didn’t object, and Betsy scurried out of sight. Something was terribly out of order. Mamm had everything wrong. Betsy was not the daughter who had fallen in love with an Englisha man.
THIRTEEN
Mary paced the floor of her bedroom with the door tightly shut. She had to calm down and regain her goot sense. The thoughts that raced through her head amounted to foolishness. Mrs. Gabert’s grandson was handsome, kind, and considerate, and from all appearances, he had a heart of gold. Who else would do mission work in Kenya? That took a sacrificial heart to say the least, but Willard seemed more than sacrificial. A light had come on in his eyes when he asked her to attend the meeting. His gaze had gone beyond her, as if he saw a distant vision that beckoned him. She knew little about Kenya, but the needs of that country must be great.
Mary paced back to the window and paused to peer past the dark blue drapes. Was her pain misleading her? That would make sense. After Josiah’s betrayal, maybe she had become confused and mistook Willard’s intentions. It was possible he meant nothing untoward by his invitation. Deep waves of warmth rushed up her neck and face. She rubbed her cheeks with both hands. Under normal circumstances, she would not have entertained suspicions. She was an Amish girl, and he was an Englisha missionary to Kenya. They lived in different worlds. Why had she become so flustered?
“Josiah Beiler!” she muttered, giving herself a fierce look in the mirror. “I’ll get over you yet.”
Surely she did not have feelings for a handsome Englisha man. Josiah had kindled emotions in her heart, but the coals would not glow again until the Lord opened the door for a proper Amish man who could be her husband. Her hopes were in the Lord’s hands, and He would not lead her astray. Mary caught her breath. What a relief. Here she had thought…oh, what foolishness! Mary rubbed her face again, and the pink flush in the mirror seemed to fade slightly.
The first matter of damage control was Betsy. What a scene Mary had created at the front door before her goot sense returned. Betsy would think Mary was falling for the man—which was exactly the kind of conclusion Betsy would draw quite willingly.
Mary took one last glance at the mirror before she exited the bedroom and took the stairs down. Mamm glanced up when Mary entered the kitchen. “I’m glad you came home early. Betsy is quite behind with her work. She has been distracted all day. Thinking, I’m afraid…” Mamm left the familiar fear unspoken, her brow furrowed in concern.
“We’ll pray for her,” Mary responded. She hurried toward the basement door.
“Are you okay, Mary?” Mamm called after her.
“I’ll be fine.” Mary turned around and forced a smile. Now was the moment to clarify there was nothing to this nonsense with Willard. “Mrs. Gabert invited Betsy and me to attend her church this evening.”
“Oh!” Mamm looked even more worried than before.
“Her grandson, Willard, is giving a missionary talk about Kenya.” The man’s name almost stuck in Mary’s throat.
Mamm didn’t seem to notice. “Are you thinking this would be a distraction from your troubles? Or perhaps would it show Betsy we aren’t as backward as she thinks?”
“I guess,” Mary allowed. “But I do admit that I found the subject of ministering to people in Kenya intriguing.”
Mamm’s smile returned. “You would with your kind heart, Mary. That convinces me. Why don’t you go with Betsy? This can only do you goot. What time is the service tonight?”
“Seven thirty,” she said, opening the basement door.
Mary paused for a moment to catch her breath before taking the first step down. Mamm had allowed a visit to Mrs. Gabert’s church tonight!
Betsy met her at the bottom of the stairs. “I heard what you told Mamm. Why don’t you admit the truth?”
Mary clutched the handrail. “You’ve got it wrong.”
Betsy gave her a glare. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
The answer was obvious. “Because of how flustered I was when I came home. But it’s not what you think. Josiah’s hurt is still deep in my heart, and it colors my thoughts.”
“You like the man!” Betsy declared. “But I won’t spill your secret. I’ll go along tonight and pretend that it’s perfectly normal for two Amish girls to attend a Baptist church talk on Kenyan missions.”
“Our people do things like this. You know that, Betsy.”
“Not when they are in love with an Englisha man!” Betsy shot back. “But don’t get me wrong. I completely approve. This will be an interesting journey, to say the least. You’re a church member, Mary, and they could slap that horrible excommunication on you.”
Mary grabbed an empty hamper. “You and your imagination. You let it run wild about Stephen Overholt, but he hasn’t glanced at me since he spoke to me at the co-op.”
“I know I’m right,” Betsy muttered. She picked up her basket to follow Mary out the basement door.
Outside, Mary took a deep breath. “Let me assure you, Betsy, that my goot sense has returned. I paced awhile in my bedroom and thought about things.”
Betsy shrugged. “I think I’m right about Stephen and about Mrs. Gabert’s grandson.”
“Betsy,” Mary chided. “We are not going there.”
Betsy set down the basket and hugged herself with both hands. “I can’t believe this. My sister is in love with a handsome Englisha man. He is handsome, isn’t he?”
Mary ignored Betsy to fill her hamper with clothing. “These should dry quickly enough inside if we built a fire.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“If you speak even a word of this to Mamm, neither of us will go anywhere tonight,” Mary warned.
“So it is true.” Betsy grinned wickedly. “I am enjoying this immensely. My dark days have only been the moment before dawn. Jumping the fence will be so much easier for me if my sister is already there.”
“Hush, Betsy. There will be no jumping the fence. Think about the opportunity we are being offered tonight. A glimpse into another world, a world of hurting people. Who would have thought that the Lord would send such a reminder of His work right when I needed it the most? Maybe we can help in Kenya. I’m sure suggestions will be made tonight.”
“You’re already in love with the man. Admit the truth.”
“I don’t think so,” Mary said with a smile. “Tonight I’m going to accept what the Lord has sent our way. You should do the same. Just look at what we can support even though we are Amish.”
Betsy didn’t reply. Together they hoisted their heavy baskets of wet clo
thing, and the storm door in the basement slammed behind them. Betsy had a faint smile on her face as they clipped the pieces of moist clothing to the wires strung from the ceiling. After her basket was empty, Betsy went back outside to refill it while Mary piled extra wood into the furnace. When the flames crept higher, she partially closed the damper to the upstairs ducts, and the dry heat began to seep into the room.
Betsy came back inside with her basket piled high. “I’m looking forward to this evening,” she teased with a bright smile.
“So am I,” Mary responded.
Back outside at the clothesline, Mary filled her basket with damp pants. The wind drove the cold all the way up her arms, but it didn’t bother her. The thought of faraway Kenya gripped her. How sheltered everyone was who lived in the community, while poverty and trouble stalked distant lands. She wondered, What would it be like to visit Kenya? Exciting and rewarding perhaps, with plenty of opportunities to touch people’s lives.
The trip wasn’t possible for an Amish girl. A visit to Mrs. Gabert’s church pushed the limits of the Ordnung, so Mary would be happy with the gift she had been given. The Lord must be using this moment to show her things she hadn’t seen before. Her dream of home and family hadn’t been wrong, but neither was helping people to live with their own hopes for the future.
Mary lifted the basket and passed Betsy near the basement door. Thirty minutes later, they pinned the last pieces to the clotheslines in the basement. Mary joined Mamm in the kitchen, while Betsy headed toward the sewing room.
“She’s working on a dress,” Mamm explained. “I’m not going to complain even though she’s adding extra frills.”
“We’ll keep praying,” Mary assured her. “The Lord will be with us. Look at me. I can’t believe the opportunity I have tonight to hear about mission work in Kenya.”
“You can use the distraction,” Mamm agreed. “And mission work is always a goot thing.”
“Maybe we can help in some way,” Mary said as she poured hot water out of the potato pot. “Wouldn’t that be a great blessing?”
“I’m glad to see you happy, but don’t forget about finding a husband.” Mamm looked at her pointedly.
Mary laughed. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Mamm lifted the lid from the green beans to taste one. “Hmm…perfect.” She turned back to Mary. “I trust your goot sense. I wasn’t accusing you.”
“I know you weren’t.”
They worked in silence, their movements honed from hours spent in each other’s presence. This was the heritage Mary wanted to pass on to her own daughter. The great needs in Kenya were doubtless the result of broken families, of children who never had the opportunity to see their parents, let alone work side by side with them.
“We have a rich heritage, don’t we?” Mary said.
Mamm appeared startled. “Where did that come from?”
“I was just thinking about Kenya, and how you and I have worked together in the kitchen for my entire growing-up years. Young people in Kenya probably never experienced what I have.”
Mamm nodded. “You should say as much to your sister.”
“Maybe I will after the talk tonight.”
“Anything would help,” Mamm agreed. She transferred the peeled potatoes to a bowl. “But I’ll feel better when both of you are safely married.”
Mary laughed again. “I said I haven’t forgotten, but some man has to be interested first.”
“Don’t let bitterness take root,” Mamm warned. “The way Josiah used you isn’t the way another Amish man will act.”
“I will comfort myself with that thought,” Mary replied. She finished the last potato and gathered up the scattered pieces of skin.
“You can call the men for supper,” Mamm told her. “Tell Betsy to check on the wash in the basement. The girl should think of that on her own, but somewhere I have failed in my training of her.”
“You haven’t failed anyone,” Mary assured her.
“I’ve just spent all day with your sister—who wants to jump the fence—and you’re going out to an Englisha church tonight to find healing.” Mamm sighed. “I do blame myself at times. I can’t help it. I should have warned you about Josiah before your heart was taken with him.”
“Mamm!” Mary scolded. “That was not your fault. How could you have known what he’d do?”
“I guess I couldn’t,” Mamm admitted. “He seemed like a nice man.”
“There! See?” Mary comforted Mamm with a hug. “Someone will be along soon to sweep me off my feet.”
A trace of a smile played on Mamm’s face. She waved her hand toward the door. “Go call the men, Mary. I’ll check on the wash. Your sister needs to finish her sewing, now that I think about it.”
Mary slipped out of the mudroom door to stand under the twinkling of the early evening stars. The Lord would be with them. He had promised.
“Supper!” she called toward the barn. “Supper is ready!”
FOURTEEN
After Daett had offered the prayer of thanks at the table, Mary stood and gathered up a handful of the dishes.
“Go get Danny Boy ready for the girls,” Mamm told Gerald. “They are going out tonight. I don’t want them walking alone after dark.”
Gerald grunted. “So why are they traipsing around the country this evening?”
“We can hitch our own horse to the buggy,” Betsy spoke up. “We don’t need the help of an Amish man.”
Gerald ignored the insult. “Tell me where you’re going. It’s a Wednesday evening, and there’s no regular youth gathering.”
“The girls are going to hear a talk on Kenya at Mrs. Gabert’s church,” Mamm told him. “Would you like to go along?”
Mary opened her mouth at once. “It would be great if you came, Gerald. Your horizons would be expanded.”
“I don’t think so,” he muttered. He stood up and walked toward the door.
Daett cleared his throat at the head of the table. “So what did I just hear? Where are my girls going tonight?”
Mary began to answer, but Mamm spoke up. “Mrs. Gabert invited them down for a talk by her grandson on Kenya missions. I thought this would be a suitable distraction for Mary, and it will let Betsy see the world from a different perspective.”
“I guess that’s a goot idea,” Daett allowed, but he appeared skeptical. “Maybe you should go along, Mandy.”
“My girls are old enough to travel downtown on their own,” Mamm told him.
Daett sobered. “I would hope so. When are you ending your rumspringa, Betsy?”
“This has nothing to do with my rumspringa,” Betsy objected. “I’m going with Mary.”
“Are you thinking about the spring baptismal class?” Daett continued, undeterred. “Most of the girls your age have joined already.”
Betsy pressed her lips together and didn’t answer.
“This is not the time for this, Kenneth,” Mamm chided. “I think it’s okay if the girls go. Maybe Betsy will get a better picture of how differently people live out there, even in church.”
“That is true.” Daett gave in and left the kitchen.
Mary ran hot water into the sink, and Betsy brought over the last of the supper dishes. Maybe Mary should have told Mamm the whole story of the afternoon, including her feelings of doubt. But how embarrassing would that have been?
Mamm spoke at her elbow as if she had read Mary’s thoughts. “Daett understands. I hope you have a goot time. Go change, both of you. I’ll do the dishes. Gerald will have Danny Boy out in a minute.”
Mary glanced at the clock. She did need a moment alone to collect her thoughts. Betsy had already run out of the kitchen and up the stairs, so Mary followed. The time to speak of this afternoon’s failings had passed.
Betsy’s bedroom across the hall was silent when Mary arrived at the top of the stairs. She entered her room and changed into a Sunday dress. Betsy still wasn’t out in the hall when Mary came out of her bedroom. With a soft knock on Betsy’s
door, Mary called. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
Betsy stood in front of the mirror with her kapp in one hand and her pins in the other. “I’m not wearing my kapp in a Baptist church,” she whispered. “But I will put it on to leave the house.”
“Please don’t make this difficult for me,” Mary begged. “We are together tonight. We’re sisters, and I don’t want to sneak around.”
“I guess you’re right. But I don’t wear my kapp on my rumspringa. Surely you know that.”
“I do, but this is different.”
Betsy put the pins in place. “Not really, but I want you to have a goot evening, and hopefully a fruitful one. Wouldn’t it be wunderbah if…” Betsy’s face glowed.
Mary sighed. “I’m so thankful you don’t talk like this in front of Mamm.”
“That’s because I want this to work.”
“We’ve been over this point,” Mary said. “I did fail this afternoon, and I should have told Mamm, but I’m okay now. Staying away from Willard would only prove that my wild thoughts were true ones.”
“You think too much,” Betsy muttered. She followed Mary down the stairs.
“Goodbye, girls,” Mamm called from the kitchen. “Have a goot evening.”
“Thanks,” Mary hollered as they put on their shawls by the warm floor register. “We’ll be back in time to help with the wash in the basement.”
“Don’t hurry,” Mamm told them.
“Baptist services aren’t too long,” Betsy added.
“How do you know?” Mary asked her sister on the way out the door.
“I just know such things,” Betsy said self-assuredly. “When one is serious about jumping the fence, all sorts of information comes into focus.”
“This is going to help you stay Amish,” Mary told Betsy as they approached the buggy. Gerald waited next to Danny Boy with his hand on the bridle.
“What really brought this on?” he quizzed them. “Isn’t this sort of sudden?”
“Mary’s…” Betsy began, but then she seemed to change her mind. “We’re going to join the Baptist church tonight,” she chirped instead.
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