“It’s charming.” Jenny loved the quiet, private little space. She touched her face to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Marnie folded her arms, all smiles. “I thought you might like to see it. My mother wishes we had one on our property. Anyone who has a spring has a blessed thing, she says.”
“Must be wonderful for keeping things nice and cold.”
“Jah, that’s just what we used them for,” Marnie agreed. “’Course now we have other ways of doing that,” she explained. “We rent space in our English neighbors’ big freezer just west of here.”
“Really? It’s not an inconvenience?”
Marnie shrugged. “Oh, we’re used to taking food elsewhere. It’s not so bad, really.”
“Do you also use the phone at your English neighbors’ sometimes?”
“Not as often as you might think.” Marnie explained there was a phone shanty positioned in a field, camouflaged by trees and tall bushes. “Our bishop doesn’t like to flaunt it, he says.” She opened the door to exit the springhouse. “You’ll meet him on Sunday, at Preachin’ service.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
“Oh, wait—on second thought, you might not meet him then, after all. He’s visiting another church district this weekend.”
Jenny fell into step with her Amish friend. “I love everything about Hickory Hollow. There’s no crazy rushing here, like in the English world.”
“Oh, trust me, you should see some of us early on market days, or hurryin’ off to church . . . ’specially those with big families, who have to hitch up two horses to two carriages and pile all the little ones inside, if they don’t take an open spring wagon.” Marnie chuckled.
Jenny wondered if she would be expected to talk the way Marnie did when she spoke English, with ’tis and lest and such. “I expect I’ve got a lot to learn. Speaking of which, are you up for teaching me to speak Pennsylvania Dutch?”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll need to be taught it formally. You’ll just pick it up over time.”
Jenny wasn’t so sure. “Well, about that. Is there a bookstore where I can purchase a Pennsylvania German dictionary?”
“Gordonville Book Store, not far from here. We’ll go over there sometime soon if ya want.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Denki,” Marnie said with a smile. “Say Denki.”
“Jah, sorry,” Jenny said, which made them both smile.
Chapter 8
After coming up the springhouse steps, Jenny followed Marnie back to the house, where Rebecca was waiting for them, sitting barefoot on the back step.
“Would ya like to meet my husband, Samuel?” Rebecca asked, observing both girls.
“Sure she would,” Marnie replied. “And don’t forget to introduce her to the others working in the barn—including my boy cousins.”
Jenny noticed the furtive looks exchanged between Marnie and Rebecca. “If it’s no trouble,” she hastened to add.
“If the herd’s calm, maybe you could start helpin’ with the four o’clock milking,” Marnie suggested.
“Now, dear,” Rebecca said, hazel eyes widening, “no need to scare Jenny off her first day here, is there?”
Marnie shrugged, mischief on her face.
What’s to be afraid of? Jenny wondered.
“Marnie.” Rebecca shook her head. “Jenny won’t need to help with milkin’. She’ll work with me in the house—where we womenfolk belong.” She gave Jenny a reassuring smile, yet Jenny felt somewhat disappointed.
“I’ll fit in wherever you need me,” Jenny remarked with a glance at Marnie. “So put me to work wherever you wish.”
Rebecca nodded. “Even so, the men do most of the milkin’.”
“Ah, you’ve been spared.” Marnie laughed as she motioned for Rebecca and Jenny to follow her to the barn.
Rebecca nodded sweetly. “Has anyone thought to let the bishop and his wife know Jenny’s arrived?” She asked this in a way that made Jenny think the good woman wanted Marnie to hurry off to the bishop’s at that very moment.
“Well, I haven’t,” Marnie said. “And I doubt Mamm has yet, either.”
Rebecca brushed her hands against her long black apron. “Might be nice if Jenny got acquainted with them real soon.”
Marnie agreed and reached for the barn door, then heaved it open. She looked back at Jenny. “If he doesn’t drop by in the next few days, it’s not because he doesn’t want to welcome you. Just remember that.”
“Sure, there’s plenty of time,” Jenny replied.
With that, they stepped into the muggy barn, and Jenny got her first strong whiff of the smells of livestock, hay, and manure. And at that moment, she was quite glad Rebecca had spared her, as Marnie had so aptly put it.
———
Marnie found Uncle Samuel with his bushy brown beard pitching hay over in the stable, along with clean-shaven Cousin Andrew. Both men were wearing their oldest, rattiest straw work hats, though in a few weeks they would don their black felt hats for winter. Secretly, she preferred the looks of those over the straw hats.
Aunt Rebecca stepped forward and introduced Jenny to Uncle Samuel, who’d propped up his pitchfork against the wall, wiped his hand on his black work trousers, and offered it to the seeker. He smiled only briefly before his lips returned to a flat, hard line.
Jenny was the first to speak. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Same to you.”
Marnie was satisfied by her uncle’s initial reception, though she wasn’t sure how her cousin would handle things. Jenny was awfully pretty, but Andrew had been around lots of attractive Amishwomen. Of course, no Amishman in his right mind had any business taking a shine to Jenny unless she was entirely committed to joining church.
“Cousin Andrew,” said Marnie gently, “this is my English friend, Jenny Burns.”
His blue-eyed gaze honed in on her auburn bangs. “Fancy, then, ya say?”
“Well, she’d rather not be,” Marnie said. “’Least not anymore.”
“Is that right?” Andrew’s face was sober. “Are ya here to join us as a people separated from the world, then?”
Jenny nodded enthusiastically. “I certainly am.”
“Well, let me be the first to congratulate you.” Andrew stuck out his hand, and Jenny shook it. “I’m sure my uncle and aunt will see to it that you get along well here as ya learn the ways of the Lord God . . . and the church.”
Marnie felt much lighter, relieved that her friend was being received so hospitably. She gave her cousin an approving nod. “Let’s show you round the stable,” she said to Jenny. “You’ll want to meet the driving horses—learn their names and let them get used to ya.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Jenny said to the men, and Marnie noted that Aunt Rebecca was struggling not to smile too broadly as she fell in step with the seeker.
Jenny drank in each new vista—the old corncrib, the woodshed, and the glassy pond behind the two-story barn. The first hours here had flown like mere moments.
She followed Rebecca’s example, washing her hands thoroughly at the well pump before going into the kitchen and scrubbing her hands there, as well. The whole chicken the women had prepared earlier was roasting, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma as they set to work on the remaining supper items. Rebecca also recited a recipe for homemade lemonade so Jenny could write it down.
“Tomorrow I’ll show you how to make bread,” Rebecca told her. “We’ll make egg noodles from scratch, too, here before long.”
“This is so wonderful. Denki.”
“Wunnerbaar,” Rebecca said with a small smile.
Jenny dipped her head with gratitude. “My mom didn’t want me underfoot in her kitchen, so I never learned to bake at all. She loves to cook, but she’s more focused on gourmet dinners than typical home cooking.”
“I daresay you might not have been so willing to cook and bake with me had you come a few years sooner,” Rebecca tittered, explaining how,
at that time, Samuel had removed the old woodstove and remodeled the entire kitchen. “It was the talk of the hollow for a while. ’Specially when we put in a full bathroom off the back of the house.”
“Marnie mentioned that in one of her letters. It wasn’t long before others jumped on the idea, too, right?”
“Marnie told ya?”
“I doubt I’d be here if it weren’t for your niece. She really helped make it possible.” Jenny paused. “I’m sure she never shared anything you’d be uncomfortable with . . . or that wasn’t common knowledge.”
“Well, I should hope not.” A shadow flitted across Rebecca’s face.
“You can rest assured of that.” Jenny gave her a smile.
“There’s plenty of tittle-tattle round here, I’m afraid. Be forewarned.”
It was human nature to want to share gossip, especially at social gatherings, Jenny thought. But to hear Rebecca admit this so freely made her a little sad.
“You look surprised,” Rebecca said as she tossed a dish towel over her ample shoulder. “Remember, we certainly ain’t perfect.”
Jenny caught her breath.
“Did ya think otherwise?”
The People were God-fearing—Jenny believed that with all of her heart, no matter what Rebecca might say. For now, though, Jenny would leave things be.
“Hope you’re not lookin’ for the ideal church, Jenny. Please say you ain’t.”
Jenny considered that. “Well, the Amish church has to be better than some I’ve visited.”
Rebecca looked away, then back at Jenny. “Keep in mind, once a person steps into a church fellowship, ach, it’s no longer perfect. None of us is without fault, ya know. There was only one who was sinless—God’s Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Jenny knew this. Still, didn’t she have every right to believe in the worth of the Amish church? What was so wrong with that?
Chapter 9
Jenny had expected paper plates and plastic spoons and forks. Instead, she and Rebecca laid the table with a green-and-white-checkered oilcloth and pretty flatware, along with simple yet lovely white dishes. There were white paper napkins beneath each gleaming fork, and glass tumblers filled with the delicious lemonade, made by Jenny herself.
Samuel came inside for supper with a quick smile for Rebecca, then removed his straw hat, placing it on the peg inside the door before heading directly to the washbasin. Soon, he took his place at the head of the table and waited silently for Rebecca and Jenny to bring over the chicken and potatoes.
Before he bowed his head and folded his hands, he said, “Let’s give thanks,” which they all did. Jenny held back tears during the long silent prayer, grateful to just be sitting here tonight.
When the prayer was over, Samuel gave a little cough and then reached for the large serving fork to choose his piece of chicken. Rebecca asked Jenny to pass the large oval dishes of potatoes and buttered peas once she’d served herself.
Jenny was surprised at how few words were spoken during the meal; she wondered if Samuel might ask about her family, or something about her English life. But no such questions came, and she slowly began to relax and enjoy the meal. The truth of the matter was that Samuel was a busy man—he did mention to Rebecca that he and a few others would be cleaning the milking equipment right after supper. “Andrew’s comin’ back to help me scrub out the bulk tank tonight, too.”
“Is the vet still due tomorrow?” Rebecca asked quietly.
“Well, it’s scheduled, so he’d better. I don’t have time to fool around waitin’ for him this time.” Samuel reached for his lemonade and took a long drink. When he was done, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“We have a guest, dear,” Rebecca said, reaching for his napkin and fluttering it at him.
Then, and only then, did Samuel cast a look Jenny’s way. She didn’t know if she ought to smile or not, given the man’s disposition.
“It’s been quite a day,” Rebecca said.
“Lots to do yet tonight, so I’ll be goin’ back out to the barn, soon as dessert’s served.”
Will he compliment Rebecca—or me—on the meal? Jenny wondered.
Then, as if Rebecca had thought the same thing, she told her husband that both she and Jenny had prepared the food. “Jenny’s a right gut help, she is.”
Samuel kept chewing, his eyes cast down. He muttered something in Deitsch.
Rebecca looked at Jenny and shrugged. “Soon enough you’ll pick up what’s bein’ said.”
“What’s that?” Samuel raised his head suddenly.
Jenny considered his response as Rebecca spoke to him in Deitsch. It would be very interesting to understand some of the asides the Lapps shared. In fact, she was sure that’s what Rebecca meant.
“What ’bout church?” Samuel asked.
“Well, she’ll come along with us, ain’t so?” Rebecca offered a warm smile to Jenny.
Samuel smacked his lips and leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t mean that. Shouldn’t ya tell her what to expect?”
“Well, why not explain things now?”
“You go right ahead, Rebecca.”
Jenny heard her sigh. “There must be a lot on your mind, Samuel.”
He didn’t say there was or there wasn’t. But the awkwardness continued even after he asked for another serving of chicken.
Jenny was beginning to think Samuel viewed her as an intruder. Or was it just his way? I don’t have to be liked immediately, she decided, glad for women like Rebecca and Marnie.
“We have leftover bread pudding, dear.” Rebecca broke the stillness. “Would ya care for some, Samuel?”
He gave a bob of his head, and Rebecca rose quickly to get it from the stove, where she’d had it reheating.
Jenny’s first meal with Marnie’s relatives certainly had been eye-opening, but she was not faint of heart. She was here for the long haul—and nothing whatsoever was going to change her mind!
———
Rebecca gritted her teeth and served Samuel his black coffee. She offered some to Jenny, who politely refused. It kept her awake if she drank coffee too late in the day, Jenny said.
Smiling sympathetically, Rebecca hoped the seeker wouldn’t be put off by Samuel’s unfriendly manner. Heaven knew his temper could rise, and she found herself thinking again of Katie and the precious grandchildren she’d managed to see a handful of times in the past months. Samuel would pitch a fit, for sure, if he got word of it. I best be more careful.
“I’m goin’ to show Jenny how to hitch up the driving horse to the family carriage after supper, if ya don’t mind,” said Rebecca.
Samuel shook his head. “Just remember you’ll have to unhitch, too.” He finished his bread pudding, then downed the rest of his coffee. “Why not wait till daylight, Rebecca?”
She had her reasons.
Samuel didn’t press further, and he leaned forward for the second silent prayer. As he again bowed his head, Rebecca and Jenny did the same.
Chapter 10
Jenny felt as tight as a fiddle string and wasn’t ready yet to fall asleep. The palpable strain at the supper table between Samuel and Rebecca still troubled her. Besides that, Rebecca had become flustered while teaching the names of the various parts of the equipment for hitching up—the harness, bridle, back hold straps, shafts, and the like. In the end, Jenny had merely watched and tried to comprehend. Last she’d looked, the horse and carriage were still parked in the driveway.
Presently, she sat in bed, writing in her journal, three full pages. When she was finished, she shuffled out of bed to the hallway. What if I went out and sat on the front porch? Would it bother the Lapps?
The present tranquility was the kind she’d longed for back home. That, and nearly everything else Hickory Hollow had to offer. Turning again to her room, she realized she could see herself in one of the bedroom windows; the gas lamp glowed on the table beside her. She stared at the silky canary yellow nightgown in the reflection and sighed. “I don’t look like
I belong here,” she whispered. Sooner or later, she’d have to sew a long cotton nightgown to sleep in.
What does Marnie wear to bed?
She admired herself again. It was the only pretty nightie she’d brought along. Just for tonight—I’ll wear it one last time. The truth was Jenny adored beautiful sleepwear and wondered who would ever know.
But she also wanted to be wholly Plain, from the inside out—from her inner heart and ideals to her external attire.
“I’ll discard this little number tomorrow,” she promised herself.
She thought then of her mother, who would be aghast if she knew Jenny was living here at all. As would Kiersten, whose opinion as the older sister always prevailed. What she said was to be respected . . . never questioned. She’ll be wondering a great deal now, Jenny thought, a little sad. Since I’m missing . . .
As for Cameron, his response would be the worst. “Out-and-out ridicule,” as Rebecca Lapp or Marnie might say. Jenny groaned. If the Lapps knew the behind-the-curtains Burns family dynamics—well, lucky for them they didn’t.
Jenny’s father was the only one who might not mind her running off to the Amish. But how would anyone ever know for sure? When it came to anything other than his work, he had little time to spare. He took not noticing to new levels.
But she didn’t need to imagine what her friends might think. Dorie, especially, would think she’d flipped out. “You’re crazy, Jen,” she would laughingly say, but she’d mean it if she knew.
So it’s best I kept it to myself.
She did plan to write letters to them eventually—they deserved as much. Cameron was the only one Jenny wasn’t sure about contacting. After all, her mother would inform the rest of the family without delay.
Jenny regretted the way she’d left things with them unfinished, but there was no room for second-guessing. She thought of all the resourceful gleanings she’d received from Rebecca in her shining kitchen. She’d even learned how to trim a kerosene lantern wick, light it, and put it out. To top things off, there was even more in store after Samuel’s evening Bible reading. Rebecca had Jenny sit next to her at the table and taught her some basic needlepoint, something she’d seen her aunt do years before. Jenny had taken to it tonight like a child to her first taste of chocolate.
The Secret Keeper Page 5