by Beth Wiseman
“Can I help you?”
Anna smoothed the wrinkles from her black apron, pushed back a strand of wayward hair that had come loose from her kapp, and moved closer to the counter. “I’m looking for Jacob Hostetler.” She dreaded having to tell Jacob that she couldn’t go out with him Saturday night. Mammi had talked to Daadi but couldn’t persuade him to relent. And as angry as she’d felt in the beginning, Anna couldn’t bring herself to completely defy her grandfather.
The woman, dressed in a fitted white shirt, had long blond hair almost to her waist. She was very pretty, and Anna avoided her gaze, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“He’s on the clock. Can I help you with something?”
Anna bit her bottom lip, then turned to face the woman. The name Glenda was on her nametag, and the frown on her face suggested that dropping by wasn’t appropriate. Anna didn’t want to bother Jacob, but she wouldn’t have another opportunity to talk to him. “I just need to talk to him for a few moments if he is able.”
Glenda slowly stood up. “I’ll go see if I can find him.” Her voice was curt as she rounded the counter and gave Anna a thin-lipped smile.
Anna was wishing she hadn’t come, but how else could she get a message to Jacob? A few moments later Glenda returned. “He’s coming.” She returned to the counter and sat down again. “Are you his girlfriend?”
Anna swallowed hard. “Nee . . . I mean no. I’m just a friend.”
“Well, if I were Amish, I’d snap him right up.” Glenda flung her hair over her shoulders and batted long dark eyelashes. “He’s the hottest Amish guy I’ve ever seen.”
No doubt about that. Anna was relieved to hear that Glenda had said, “If I were Amish.”
Anna turned to her right when she heard footsteps. “I’m sorry to bother you at work,” she said as Jacob walked closer.
He didn’t even look toward Glenda, but instead his eyes met Anna’s, and he smiled so broadly that Anna felt weak in the knees. “I can’t wait until tomorrow night,” he said in a whisper as he gently pulled her around the corner and away from Glenda. “What would you like to do?”
“I, uh . . .” Anna couldn’t stop looking at his smile, his mouth. She’d come here to tell him she couldn’t go, but the words weren’t coming. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“Are we still on for four o’clock?” Jacob pushed back the rim of his hat, still smiling.
How can I not go? “Ya. I was just stopping by to make sure.” Anna was racking her brain for a way to make this work. “Do you think you could pick me up at Emma’s? I need to drop some things off at her haus, and it’s closer for you.”
Jacob shifted his weight and scratched his clean-shaven, perfect chin. “Are you sure your grandfather doesn’t want me to pick you up properly?”
“Nee. It will be fine. He already met you once.” She forced her guilt to the back of her mind, hoping her half smile was convincing enough.
“Okay, then. Think about what you want to do, and I’ll see you at four.”
Anna nodded as she took a few steps backward. “See you tomorrow.”
Jacob gave a quick wave, then went back the same direction he’d come from. Anna walked over to where Glenda was sitting. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Have fun Saturday night.”
Glenda was smiling in a way that confused Anna—a mirthless smile that arched her eyebrows.
“Uh, thank you,” Anna said again, then hurried out of the store.
Jacob punched the time clock, then stowed his card in its proper slot. He was thankful that he didn’t have to work every weekend, and he was looking forward to spending time with Anna tomorrow night. He wished he could just snap his fingers and be sitting next to her in the buggy, maybe on their way to eat dinner or even to a movie.
Once on the road, the familiar dread seeped into his heart. He hated going home these days. Despite his mother’s best efforts, it remained a place of great sadness. He wondered if that would ever change. It was the Amish way to trust that a person’s passing was God’s will. Jacob had always believed that—until the unthinkable happened to Leah. Now Jacob wondered if those who kept talking about God’s will had ever really lost anyone close. But he thought about the One he needed to trust, the One who had given His only Son. The whole thing was so hard to figure out, even harder to live through.
He struggled through supper, trying to appear happy for his younger siblings, and he could tell his mother was doing the same thing. As usual, their father wasn’t around.
Mary Jane was the first to scoot back her chair from the table, even though everyone had been done for a few minutes. “Do you want me to make a plate of food for Daed?” She picked up what was left of the chicken bundles from the center of the table and carried it to the counter. Jacob was surprised there were any left. The stromboli-type turnovers were filled with chicken, cream cheese, celery, onion, and lots of other ingredients that made them a family favorite. Jacob reached for the last piece of butter bread before Mary Jane took the basket from the table.
“Your father is a grown man,” Mamm said. “If he wants supper, he can eat with the rest of us or come get his own plate.” Mamm raised her chin, smiled, and left the room. Jacob heard her humming as she crossed into the living room, and he realized he’d stopped chewing, just as his siblings had stopped what they were doing.
Each one of them looked at Jacob as if he could explain what had just happened. Their mother had been bringing Daed’s meals to their bedroom and catering to him in every way since they’d moved.
Jacob wanted to smile, to be proud of his mother, but a knot formed almost instantly in the pit of his stomach. Their father had always been the head of the household, and he’d made sure everyone knew it. He might not be tending to his family the way he should, but Jacob doubted he would tolerate disobedience from their mother. But as Mamm walked into their bedroom and slammed the door behind her, Jacob slowly rose from his chair and walked to the living room, all his siblings following.
They held their breath. Jacob could count on one hand the times he’d heard his parents bicker, at least in front of the kinner. Eli went so far as to press his ear against the door, and he nearly fell into their mother when she pulled the door open.
“Are my kinner eavesdropping?” Mamm tied the strings of her black bonnet. “I’m going out for a while. Your daed is in the bathtub. I’ll be back before dark.”
Mary Jane followed Mamm to the door. “Where are you going?”
“To the bishop’s haus.”
No one moved or said anything as their mother closed the door behind her.
“Why is she going to see the bishop?” Anna Mae peered out the window as Mamm’s buggy headed down the driveway.
“I don’t know.” Jacob leaned over his sister’s shoulder, watching the buggy round the corner. Did Mamm not know how strict the bishop was? Would his name come up during her visit?
He scratched his head and took a step back. “Ach, well, let’s finish our chores and get bathed.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Six o’clock. Surely Mamm wouldn’t be gone long.
Cora pulled up to Marianne’s haus, glad she had accepted the other woman’s invitation for coffee and dessert. She was a bit nervous about spending time with Marianne’s husband, but she’d enjoyed her time with Marianne so much yesterday that she was willing to face Bishop Byler as well.
It had been a long time since Cora had met another woman as interesting as Marianne. Though old enough to be Cora’s mother, she didn’t act her age. And she certainly wasn’t like the bishop’s wife back home, a woman who let you know her standing and expected to be treated accordingly. Cora really looked forward to getting to know her better, even if that meant spending time with the stern-faced man who had forbidden their granddaughter to go out with Jacob on Saturday.
Cora had offered to explain what really happened—that the children’s failure to attend the singing was her fault. But Marianne had said it would be best to le
t it lie, assuring Cora that she was working to get her husband to change his mind. Cora hoped that he would. Jacob was a good boy who had taken on the role of head of the household in her husband’s absence. It was a heavy burden, and he deserved some happiness. Anna was a pretty girl, and Cora could see the attraction for Jacob. But she still wished he’d chosen someone who wasn’t the bishop’s granddaughter.
The bishop’s haus was large and well tended, the flowerbeds immaculate, the shaded porch plain but still welcoming. Cora climbed the steps, thinking how good it felt to be out and about. Her stomach had knotted up a bit when she left John without bringing him his supper. But she was tired of tending to him like a child, as if his emotions were any more shredded than the rest of the family’s.
She knocked on the door and jumped when a black-and-white cat scurried behind her. Seconds later Marianne answered.
“I’m so glad you could come to my home.” Marianne pushed the screen door wide, and Cora breathed in the aroma of freshly percolated coffee as she stepped into the living room. A plain room with no décor and only simple furnishings. Cora was going to have to make some changes to her own home.
“Wie bischt? Danki for inviting me.” She glanced around for any sign of the bishop or their granddaughter, Anna, but no one was around. Cora was still embarrassed that Anna had stayed outside during the ruckus with Eli, but better outside than to have seen such chaos.
“Sit, sit, my dear.” Marianne motioned for Cora to take a seat on the couch. “I’ll be right back with some kaffi and cake. Hope you like cherry crumb cake.”
She hurried from the room. When she returned, Bishop Byler followed.
Cora stood up. “Good evening, Bishop.”
He walked to where she was standing and shook her hand. “Nice to see you, Cora. Please, take your seat.”
The bishop sat formally in one of the rocking chairs, as did his wife after she’d served everyone coffee and cake. Cora wanted so much to plead her case for Jacob, but Marianne had said it was best not to, so Cora sat quietly eating her cake, wishing it was just she and Marianne this evening.
“Where’s Anna?” she asked when the silence grew awkward.
“She’s bathing, but should be down shortly.”
Bishop Byler was staring at Cora, and she wondered if perhaps something in her attire was somehow not right. She glanced at Marianne’s dark blue dress and black apron, exactly the same as Cora was wearing. Cora and both her daughters had sewn new dresses right after they arrived in Paradise. They still needed more, but they had been anxious to adhere to the dress code here since it was a bit different from Ohio.
“Tell me of your travels here to Lancaster County. Did you come by bus or train?”
Cora swallowed hard. “Nee. We, uh, flew here by airplane while our things were transported in a large moving van.”
Surprisingly, Bishop Byler just nodded. “It’s a fine place to raise a family here in Paradise.” He stroked the length of his gray beard. “I have not seen much of your husband around town, only briefly after worship. He must stay busy farming.” He paused. “Or does he also work outside the home?”
“Nee. He only farms.” Cora wished she hadn’t come. She should have known that the bishop would ask questions. “We were fortunate the prior owners put in the crops before we arrived, but as you know, there is still always much to do.”
“And your oldest boy helps with this?” Bishop Byler narrowed his eyebrows, and Cora suspected he already knew the answer to his question.
“Nee. He works at the lumberyard in town. And our middle son, Eli, works for Widow Kauffman, helping tend her animals.” She paused, then smiled. “But our youngest, Abe, and my twin girls, Anna Mae and Mary Jane, stay home with me to take care of our household needs.”
Bishop Byler frowned. “More and more of our young people are venturing out into the Englisch world. It wonders me what our community will be like when the next generation is in charge.” He shook his head before taking a bite of cake.
“Isaac, many of the kinner are forced to work outside the home. You know that.” Marianne smiled at Cora. “Times must change.”
Cora thought of Marianne’s new cell phone. They now shared a secret that was proof positive about how much things truly were changing. But Cora wasn’t sure that was such a bad thing. They all wanted their children rooted in the Amish ways, but it seemed almost impossible not to alter their lifestyle at least a little.
They all turned toward the stairs when they heard footsteps. Anna appeared in the living room a few moments later, said hello, then excused herself and went back upstairs. Cora waited for Bishop Byler to mention something about Jacob asking Anna out, but he didn’t. Instead, he began to rattle on about all the things in Paradise that he was unhappy about, the rules he planned to continue enforcing.
Cora again wondered why they hadn’t checked out the bishop before they chose Paradise as their new home. This Bishop Byler was clearly a rigid man, and Cora could see why his wife had created a life of her own that he didn’t know about. Maybe it was wrong—the deceit certainly was. But surely a person can only take so much. Cora thought about the ballerina music box she’d bought using Marianne’s credit card, promising to pay her back with cash. She had planned to buy a book about ballerinas, but when she saw the music box, she instantly envisioned the lovely trinket on her night stand.
Cora was thankful when the bishop excused himself. But then Marianne started acting a little strange. She kept looking back toward the stairway and what appeared to be the basement door. Once she opened her mouth as if to say something, then apparently changed her mind. Finally, Marianne relaxed a little and started talking about the upcoming Sisters’ Day. But now Cora found herself distracted, drifting back in time to the last Sisters’ Day she’d attended with Leah in Middlefield.
“It’s still very painful, I know.” Marianne’s voice brought Cora back to the present. “I’m sure you miss Leah every second of every day.”
“Ya.” She sighed. “Leah used to love Sisters’ Day, and it’s hard to think of going without her.” Cora sat taller and raised her chin. “But I will go because my dochder would want me to. She’d want me to make new friends here.”
Marianne glanced toward her basement door again, then looked back at Cora, a flush in her cheeks.
“Is everything okay?” Cora finally asked.
Once again she got the sense that Marianne wanted to tell her something but decided against it.
“Ya, ya. Everything is fine.” Marianne glanced toward the basement door again, and Cora wasn’t so sure.
Anna had wondered if Cora Hostetler’s visit would sway her grandfather into letting her go out with Jacob. She’d stayed quietly at the top of the stairs and listened to the conversation, disappointed that the subject hadn’t come up. She would have to stick to her original plan and say she was going to Emma’s house. She didn’t feel good about the lie, but her grandfather had pushed her to this by being so unreasonable.
It was late by the time she crawled under the covers, but she hadn’t dozed off yet when she heard the basement door creak open. She knew Mammi went down there a lot, but usually not this late. She wondered if that’s where the missing strawberries were. Maybe Mammi was planning something special with the fruit and didn’t want Anna or her grandfather to know.
She tiptoed down the stairs, and once she got to the basement door, she pressed her ear against it and listened. She heard the door to Mammi’s broom closet open, then click closed behind her. Other than that, it was so quiet that Anna could hear her grandfather gently snoring in her grandparents’ downstairs bedroom, the light breeze coming through the open windows, the familiar creaking of their old farmhouse. She was just about to ease the door open and find out exactly what her grandmother was doing when she heard a loud sneeze outside. She got to the window in the living room just in time to see a small woman running from the garden.
Glancing back at the basement door, she knew it wasn’t her grand
mother, so she bolted out of the house and ran across the yard.
“Hey!” Anna chased after the woman in her bare feet and nightgown but couldn’t catch her before she got lost in the high grass in the adjoining pasture. She stopped, caught her breath, and walked to her garden. In the dim light she walked down each row, then stopped when she got to her tomato plants. She leaned down, examining each one. All the tomatoes were gone, even the green ones.
She stared toward the pasture where the woman had fled. Who is she? And why is she stealing my vegetables? Sighing, she felt a tinge of guilt that she’d assumed her grandmother had snatched the strawberries.
What her grandmother did down in the basement was a mystery, but a stranger coming into the garden at night was even more bewildering. Anna scratched her cheek and thought for a moment. When no answer came to mind, she started back toward the house. She was almost to the white picket fence gate that surrounded the garden when she noticed something twinkling on the ground below her. She squatted down, stared at the item, and picked it up.
It was very pretty . . . and her only clue about the produce thief.
8
JACOB PULLED UP TO THE LAPPS’ HAUS AT FOUR O’CLOCK exactly. Anna and Emma were in the garden, so he tethered Bolt and joined them.
“Look at this.” Emma was pointing at something when he walked up. “I’ve been cleaned out of strawberries and tomatoes.” She thrust her hands on her hips and shook her head.
Jacob’s eyes drifted to Anna right away. He’d been looking forward to their date all week, and Anna looked beautiful.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, forcing himself to pull his gaze from Anna.
Emma kicked at a tomato plant. “These were full of tomatoes yesterday. They would have been ready for picking soon.”
“Apparently, we have a thief.” Anna grinned as she spoke. “I’ve seen an old woman twice in my garden late at night. The first time she took all my strawberries, and last night she stole my tomatoes and the few strawberries that were left.”