I’ve missed so much by being born English.
Tomorrow was Halloween, but Amish people wouldn’t think of celebrating the day. Regardless, Rebecca said they had pumpkins to deliver for pies and invited Jenny to help distribute them in the neighborhood.
Fondly, she looked around the room. So this was not a deceased daughter’s former bedroom, although Marnie had whispered before she left that Katie had been considered practically dead to the People. The idea of such a severe shunning made Jenny clench her teeth. Poor Katie!
She extinguished the lantern and moved back to the window, inching closer to see the moon-drenched grazing land and the pasture beyond. It was hard to stop thinking about Samuel and Rebecca’s daughter.
Suddenly, Jenny spotted someone dash outside and get into the waiting carriage. She peered closer and saw that it was Rebecca.
Lowering herself, Jenny crouched and watched, wondering where the woman of the house was hurrying off to at this late hour. It struck Jenny as not only strange but rather eerie.
———
Incredibly curious, Jenny considered waiting up until Rebecca returned. But she felt so exhausted, it was difficult not to return to bed and stretch out beneath the sheet and quilt. She gently traced the quilt’s pattern and its stitching, not forgetting to thank God for this remarkable dream come true.
Then, with a deliberate sigh, Jenny relaxed and gave in to blessed sleep against the embroidered pillowcase.
The matching white ceramic lamps on either side of the burgundy-and-white-checked sofa cast such brightness upon the front room, Rebecca had to squint as she sat there with darling brown-eyed Katie. The light gleamed in the otherwise darkened house until, ever so slowly, her eyes became accustomed to it.
Electric, Rebecca thought with regret, although she must not let her concern overtake her. She was altogether pleased her daughter had stayed up to see her, as they’d planned two weeks ago.
“You look tired, Mamma.” Katie was curled at one end of the sofa in her soft blue bathrobe, holding tiny, sleeping Kate Marie. The toddler’s blond hair fell in lovely ringlets.
“Never too tired to see you.” Unable to resist, she scooted over and touched her granddaughter’s smooth cheek with her finger. “Just look at the little sweetie—she’s growin’ so fast, jah?”
“You must see the changes more than we do.” Katie stroked her little one’s locks.
“Well, no doubt.” Ain’t like I wouldn’t visit every day if I could, Rebecca thought.
“Does Dat know you’ve started coming to see us?” asked Katie.
“I’ve managed to keep it from him.”
“What will happen if . . . ”
Rebecca’s dream came to mind. “That’s why my visits must be after dark.”
“Oh, Mamma. This sneaking around seems so unnecessary.”
“Well, the Bann’s to be upheld.” Rebecca felt suddenly guilty again. “By most of us, that is.”
Katie shook her head and pushed her hands through her own auburn hair. “It’s just been—”
“Too long since you saw your father . . . your brothers?” Rebecca asked. “That could all change, if only—”
“Mamma, please. We’re happy in our new church. We’re doing God’s bidding. We believe that.” Katie placed her sleeping daughter onto the sofa and leaned back. “And we’ve started a Bible study.”
“Ach, really?”
“Daniel felt the Lord nudging him to invite anyone seeking to delve into Christ’s teachings.”
“Is that so?”
“You’re welcome to come, too, Mamma. We’d love to have you.”
“Well, I . . .”
“Just think about it, all right?”
Rebecca thought two seconds and knew there was no way she’d be permitted to attend, even if she wanted to. Yet she was torn.
They sat there quietly, Rebecca’s thoughts churning. Thoughts she could not voice.
“When’s Benjamin planning to take over the farm for Dat?” asked Katie out of the blue. “I thought he was nearly ready to do that several years ago.”
Rebecca explained that Katie’s youngest brother helped Samuel daily to run the dairy farm, along with a few of his cousins. “Keep in mind that when Benjamin married, his father-in-law helped them buy their own place.”
“So you and Dat will continue to live where you are, then?”
“For the time bein’, jah.” Rebecca wondered when Katie had last seen her three brothers, especially Benjamin, whom she was always closest to. “Do the boys keep in touch with you at all?” she asked.
“Just Eli—mostly a note now and then from his wife.” Katie looked away, biting her lips and squinting her eyes. “Elam’s written me off. . . .” she whispered.
All the People did, Rebecca thought miserably, thankful for the bishop’s lifting the Bann slightly so they could correspond by mail, though only a few did so.
Then, looking down at tiny Kate Marie, Katie smiled. “I think she’s starting to resemble Daniel a little, don’t you, Mamma?”
She finds her joy wherever she can. . . .
Rebecca agreed and leaned forward a bit. “Her looks are changing, that’s for sure.”
“Here lately, people have been saying so, though I’ve thought it, too.”
“Sammy’s always looked more like you, with his auburn hair,” Rebecca said, a lump still in her throat. “To think he’s never met his Dawdi Samuel.”
“No, sad but true.”
They pushed past their grief over the Bann and talked about the children, mostly everyday things—how little Kate was beginning to put more and more sentences together. Rebecca didn’t say it but wondered if any of those were Deitsch.
Katie’s face beamed suddenly and she lowered her voice. “Mamma, I’m expecting a baby again. We found out just this week.”
“Such happy news. Any chance of twins?”
Laughing softly, Katie said, “You must really want doubles, Mamma.”
“Why do ya say that?”
“Well, this isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned it.”
Rebecca had to chortle. “Is that right?” She knew it was true.
Katie nodded and looked again at her precious girl, whose pudgy arm twitched as she rolled to face the sofa. “Whatever the Lord sees fit to give us, Daniel and I’ll be ever so happy.”
“You look real gut, dear one. Healthy as always.”
“The doctor says so,” replied Katie, going on to say the baby was due the first week in May. Katie smiled. “Little Kate will likely still be in diapers.”
“And you’ll have your hands full for sure.”
“I don’t mind one bit. I love being a wife and mother,” Katie said, yawning.
Just not an Amish one, thought Rebecca.
“Oh, and not to change the subject, but I heard you and Dat were keeping an Englischer over at the house.”
“That’s right. She arrived just today.”
“Someone from the outside who wants to join the Amish church?”
Rebecca said it was so. “How’d ya hear?”
“Daniel’s sister Annie.”
Elam’s wife. Nodding, Rebecca replied, “Jenny Burns is awful nice, I’ll say that. And she seems sincere, too.”
Katie was still.
“This is so rare, ya know, we hardly know how to go ’bout it,” Rebecca volunteered.
“Surely Bishop John has a plan, jah?”
Rebecca loved it when Katie slipped back into her old ways of expression. “That he does. John Beiler’s told your father it’s a matter of letting Jenny learn our ways at her own pace.”
“So Dat’s all right with it?”
“Well, he’s cautious.”
“No wonder.”
“Can’t be too careful,” Rebecca said. “But I don’t mean there’s anything to worry ’bout. Just that Jenny must fit in with the membership before she’ll be given the chance to become one of us.”
“Does she speak any Deits
ch?”
“Only a word or two. But from what I can tell, she’s determined to do what’s necessary.”
“Where’d you put her—which room?”
Rebecca paused. “Does it matter to ya, daughter?”
“Not really.”
“Well, since your old room’s the largest besides ours, I offered her that.” A shadow crossed Katie’s face, and for that instant, Rebecca worried she’d made a blunder in doing so. “Is that all right, dear?”
“Of course. Why would I mind?”
Rebecca was mighty sure she did. “It’s too late to change things,” she said, wishing she’d brought it up with Katie before now. “She’s nicely settled.”
“Really, Mamma, it’s all right.” Katie drew a long breath. “I just hope she finds whatever she’s looking for.”
“Jah, and who’s to know what that might be.”
“It’s hard to think of an Englischer wanting to be Amish,” Katie said in a near whisper.
Hard indeed, Rebecca thought sadly.
Chapter 11
Jenny dreamed she was scrambling eggs and frying German sausage, and she awakened to the same delectable aromas. She guessed Rebecca Lapp was up already and making breakfast for Samuel.
And I’m still in bed!
She peered at her watch on the bedside table. Six o’clock!
There had been no discussion about what her morning chores were to be, or how early she should rise. She was told yesterday that Samuel would have a bite before going out for the early morning milking at four o’clock, which meant this must be a more substantial breakfast that Rebecca was preparing.
“Remember, we’re not here by accident,” Rebecca had said yesterday while they worked together in the sewing room. “Just like these dress patterns have a purpose, so do we. . . .”
Jenny pushed back the bed quilt and rose to go to the window. Lifting the green shade, she stared out at the beauty dawning before her eyes.
“I’m here for a purpose,” she said softly.
Today she wanted to help Rebecca in any way she could. Her first priority was here at home, learning the ways of an Amishwoman. Speaking and comprehending their language was an essential part of that. If I can just get my hands on a Pennsylvania German dictionary.
She went to the dresser to get her brush and tried to remember how to put her hair back the way Rebecca had done it up yesterday. But she kept failing, and her bangs were a nuisance. I need a larger mirror!
She decided to try again to pull her bangs back to accommodate a full middle part, perhaps downstairs in the bathroom. Except that the cabinet mirror there might not be much help, either, considering it was rather small. Despite that, it was better than nothing, so she would just slip down there in her modest bathrobe, hopefully unnoticed, and shower or wash up before dressing. Swiftly, she gathered her things.
Rebecca greeted her as she hurried through the kitchen to the bathroom, and Jenny noticed the dark circles under her eyes. “No need to rush, Jenny. The men will be outdoors for a while yet.” She explained that she sometimes liked to offer a nice hot breakfast to Elam and her nephews. “It’s not always the same young men each day, since most of them have other part-time jobs.”
Jenny couldn’t help wondering how late Rebecca had stayed out last night . . . and where she’d gone at that hour. But it wasn’t her place to inquire, and she made her way into the bathroom for her shower and hung her silky nightgown over her bathrobe on the door hook.
When she’d finished, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off, then stepped into one of Katie’s discarded dresses, recalling the small spring-fed pond by the springhouse. She couldn’t run off to look at herself in its reflection each morning. She’d have to trust Marnie’s assessment that doing her hair the Amish way would become second nature in time.
Marnie could hardly wait to finish cooking breakfast in her sick mother’s stead. Mamm was resting this morning, nursing a bad headache. Marnie assumed it was another migraine, so it was also up to her to get the lunches packed for her three school-age siblings, and in a big hurry, too.
Once the kitchen was redded up and her younger siblings were out the door, she washed the floors by hand in the utility room, kitchen, and the small sitting room near the front room. Then, while they were drying, she went upstairs and sat down to write a letter to her beau, Roy Flaud, who had invited her to attend an area Bible study next Tuesday evening. He’d written that he would pick her up, if she wanted to go.
Not wanting to turn him down, she’d thought about it overnight, unable to sleep. It was odd, really, because naught but a week or so ago she had heard Cousin Emmalyn—Andrew’s nineteen-year-old sister—talking about a couple holding such meetings, somewhere on the outskirts of Hickory Hollow. The concern was that some of the unbaptized Amish young folk might head over there out of curiosity. And eventually wander out of the Amish church.
“If Emmalyn got wind that I attended that meeting, I’d be all but cooked,” she whispered. “And that would be the end of Roy and me.” The thought of anything tearing them apart made her head hurt. Like poor Mamm’s!
Quickly, Marnie took a pen from her desk drawer and began to write to her darling.
Dear Roy,
I was glad to receive your letter yesterday afternoon. Right away, I wanted to write you back to thank you for the invitation. But honestly, it’s not a good idea for me to go to the Bible study. I don’t want to have trouble brewing with my parents. Or worse, with the ministers here. I hope you understand.
As you know, my father is not progressive in any manner, shape, or form—we’ve discussed this, you and I. Besides, if word got out to Bishop John, well, I’d have some fast explaining to do, even though I’m in my Rumschpringe like you.
It would break my heart for anything to divide us, Roy. I look forward to seeing you again. I’ll wait to hear from you to find out when that might be.
I’m really sorry about not joining you.
Yours always,
Marnie Lapp
She folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope, glad she’d kept her romance secret for all this time. Oh, goodness, she hoped this problematic invitation wasn’t just the tip of the haystack!
Jenny offered to wash the big black griddle for Rebecca as the smell of baking bread permeated the kitchen. The breakfast they’d served to Samuel, Elam, and three of the Lapps’ teenage nephews was heartier than any Jenny had eaten in recent memory. Along with fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, and sausage, there was also orange juice, black coffee, and a snitz pie Rebecca had made yesterday.
The young men hardly made eye contact as they dug into their food. And just as he had last night, Samuel still seemed tentative about talking to Jenny, which didn’t surprise her. I’m still a stranger.
She was finishing up the dishes while Rebecca dried when suddenly a frustrated stream of Deitsch came pouring from within the bathroom.
“Ach no!” Rebecca said, turning crimson and darting toward the bathroom door.
What’s happening? Jenny wondered.
Rebecca talked through the door in their language. Another private conversation, Jenny mused.
At last the door opened narrowly, and Rebecca squeezed inside, disappearing behind it. More muffled talking ensued. Jenny hoped Samuel hadn’t become ill.
Then Samuel emerged from the room, his head bowed as he scurried away like a terrified mouse toward the utility room and out the back door.
What’s going on? Jenny thought as she returned to scouring the sink.
After a few moments, Rebecca called to her. “Will you come in here, please, Jenny?”
“Coming.” She stepped into the bathroom. There, she found Rebecca gingerly holding up the silky yellow nightie by the straps. “Is this . . . uh, little item yours, dear?”
Jenny gasped and felt her face flush. “Oh, I forgot to—”
Rebecca’s eyes were beyond serious. “We have but one bathroom in this house, as ya know.” The woman l
ooked absolutely appalled. “That’s all I’ll be sayin’ about this.”
“Really, I’m so terribly sorry. It won’t happen again,” Jenny assured Rebecca—and herself.
During the bumpy ride in the spring wagon to haul the plump and beautiful pumpkins, Jenny’s embarrassment followed her like a stalking dog. But just as Rebecca had stated, she did not mention the incident further.
“What does your family think of your decision to come here?” asked Rebecca after a while. “They must be shocked.” Her hands were tight on the reins.
Jenny drew a long breath and slowly let it out. “Actually, they don’t know.”
Rebecca turned toward her, frowning. “Whatever do ya mean? You didn’t tell them?”
She shook her head. “I knew they’d try to talk me out of coming.”
Rebecca sighed loudly. “So they could’ve?”
“I worried they’d pressure me to change my mind, yes.”
The older woman raised her eyebrows. “And why’s that?”
“It’s not that I’m easily talked out of something, if that’s what you think.” Even to Jenny’s ears, the words sounded defensive.
“Nee?” Rebecca gave her a doubtful look. “Are ya sure?”
Jenny nodded. “This kind of life is all I’ve wanted since I was a girl.”
“But you can’t just disappear from your family and not tell them what’s in your heart.”
“You don’t know my family, Rebecca.”
“True. But even so.”
The conversation made Jenny feel even worse than she’d felt earlier, when Samuel had found her nightgown.
“I did tell my mother I was leaving town for a while.”
Rebecca’s pretty eyes became even more sober. “So you really don’t know if you’re goin’ to stay put, then.”
“I do know.”
The Secret Keeper Page 6