Marnie smiled apologetically. “Keep your chin up, Jenny!”
“Denki,” Jenny replied and trudged over to the deacon’s house, where Rebecca stood waiting patiently, a compassionate smile on her face. “Would it be possible to write down the steps for hitching up?” Jenny asked her. “Might be a good idea.”
“Of course, but I think you’ll learn better just by doin’,” Rebecca said.
Sure doesn’t seem that way.
“I daresay you’re fretting yourself, ain’t so?”
Jenny couldn’t verbalize the truth—that she was afraid she’d never get it right.
“You have plenty of time, remember?” Rebecca motioned her inside. “Come now, I’d like you to meet some of my friends before they leave for home.”
Not in the best frame of mind to socialize, she followed Rebecca into the house, where an elderly woman sat in an oak pressed-back chair near the window, holding her cane just so. Her small blue eyes shone as Jenny approached her.
Rebecca leaned down near the older woman. “Ella Mae, this is our seeker, Jenny Burns,” she said. Then, turning to Jenny, she said, “And, Jenny, I’d like you to meet my lifelong friend, Ella Mae Zook.”
The white-haired woman stretched out her gnarled hand. “Hullo, Jenny Burns. It’s gut to meet ya.”
“Jenny’s from Connecticut,” Rebecca added, straightening to her full height.
“Well, dearie, you’re a long ways from home,” Ella Mae said. “Ain’t so?”
Jenny hadn’t thought of it quite like that. “It would take a very long time by horse and buggy, absolutely.” She smiled down at the petite woman.
“Did ya have a nice trip here?” asked Ella Mae.
Jenny told how excited she’d been last Tuesday. “That day is a complete blur to me.”
Ella Mae cocked her head. “You have a little accent, don’t you?”
“No one’s ever mentioned it.” Jenny was actually charmed by the diminutive lady, who had a smile that was a fascinating blend of reassurance and mischief. “She’s never met a seeker,” Jenny recalled Marnie telling her. Not in her lifetime. I’m a rarity.
“You’ll have to drop by and have a cup of my peppermint tea sometime,” Ella Mae said in her delicate voice. “I’d like to hear your story.”
Jenny was taken aback, but seeing her lovely smile reappear, she assumed the woman was only being friendly.
“I’m quite serious,” Ella Mae added. “Do come visit me anytime.”
“Thanks, um . . . Denki. How nice of you!”
“It’s time we got acquainted.”
Jenny nodded, feeling better suddenly, though she didn’t know exactly why. Ella Mae’s demeanor was as much of an encouragement to her as Andrew’s had been earlier.
“Why not go ’n’ see her on Tuesday, after Monday washday?” Rebecca suggested.
“Tuesday it shall be,” Ella Mae piped up even before Jenny could agree.
And Jenny did so with a cautious smile. Is this Rebecca’s idea? she wondered.
During the ride to the Lapp farm, Jenny again sat in the back of the buggy. It wasn’t long before she noticed the same carriage with the boy skater attached by rope, coming fast upon them, about to pass them on the narrow stretch of road. The driver was a middle-aged man with a bushy dark brown beard that protruded out over his chest. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was looking over at her, grinning. Instantly uncomfortable, she looked away. Who is that?
When they pulled into the Lapps’ lane, Jenny offered to help unhitch the horse, but Rebecca intervened and suggested Jenny’d had enough for one day. She urged her to spend some quiet time alone in her room, which Jenny welcomed. She had been so busy the past two days, she’d failed to write in her journal, so she sat on the bed and began to jot down her thoughts.
It’s amazing what a person can absorb in a few days’ time. I never gave butchering chickens much thought, but now I can pluck feathers and prepare the bird for cooking. Rebecca knows how to break a chicken’s neck humanely, with the least amount of pain for the bird. She is a stronger woman than she appears and can do this chore without help . . . whereas I could hardly watch the first time. I tried to think of having nothing to eat but that poor full-grown chicken. Guess I’ll need to think like a homesteader if I want to fit in here.
Rebecca told me that sometimes the weakest chicken will get pecked to death by the others, and I’ve wondered if I’ll end up like that, too. I don’t mean that anyone’s really picking on me . . . well, except Emmalyn Lapp, who obviously set me up today before the common meal. Thankfully, her brother Andrew didn’t think poorly of me for eating ahead of time. Or then again, he may have concealed what he truly thinks. Who knows what any of them are whispering about now.
At times like this, I can’t help thinking about my former home. I’m even starting to miss my family—I wish I hadn’t kept them in the dark about coming here.
There are moments I don’t even know what I think anymore, other than the fact that Andrew Lapp has to be the best-looking Amish—or English—guy anywhere!
“Our young seeker is discouraged,” Rebecca told Samuel as they rested in their room that afternoon. “I can see it on her face.”
Samuel was still for a while, his eyes closed. Then he drew a slow breath. “Jenny Burns is not solely your responsibility, Rebecca.”
She knew as much and was glad Jenny would ultimately be overseen by the bishop. Even so, she wanted to see the young woman succeed more than anything. Well, almost. Her thoughts flew to Katie, as they often did on the Lord’s Day. Pity’s sake, they’d lost one girl from the Amish church. Oh, she hoped she could manage to keep concealing the visits. It was imperative, though she never thought of going to see dearest Katie as actually sinning. But the ministerial brethren would certainly think so. As would Samuel . . .
“Have ya thought of lettin’ things run their course?” Samuel said drowsily. “Have ya?”
She looked at him in surprise, her mind still on Katie. “What?” Her throat was terribly dry.
“Jenny must find her own way,” he said.
Goodness, she was relieved. Although she hadn’t thought that way at all since the young woman had walked through the back door and into her life. Their lives.
“Are ya napping now, Rebecca?” her husband asked, rolling over to peep at her before he shut his eyes again.
“Not just yet.”
“Well, what do you think ’bout what I said? Are ya deaf, or just playin’ like it?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled, his eyes still closed. “I think ya do.” Sighing, he adjusted the pillow. “You’re getting too attached to her, I daresay.”
Rebecca shrugged. He was probably right.
“If she fails, you’ll be terribly troubled, jah?”
“Well, she won’t.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” His eyes flicked open. “Mark my words, Rebecca. You’ll get your heart all bound up in Jenny . . . won’t be gut for ya. You hear?”
She’d heard but she also had high hopes. “The girl needs help if she’s goin’ to get through to her baptism.”
“That’s what I’m talking ’bout.”
Rebecca turned and stared at the dresser and the gas lantern. Then and there, she remembered her dream from a couple of weeks ago and trembled. She was thankful when Samuel slipped his burly arm around her and held her that way till she fell fast asleep at last.
Marnie left the house soon after they arrived home, as she often did on a Sunday afternoon. Even on a fairly chilly afternoon such as this, she liked to get out and walk. It was easiest to sort through her thoughts when she was alone beneath the sky and sun. Sometimes, too, Roy came by in his open buggy, soaring down Hickory Lane. Just maybe.
She hoped with all of her heart he’d understood what she’d written in her letter, which he would have received by now. There was enough time for him to have replied, as well, but she knew he was busy helping his father these days
, baling corn fodder for stable bedding.
Still, it nagged at her that he and his family seemed to be moving in the opposite direction of the Old Order. She couldn’t help but wonder if Roy’s parents were as interested in the Bible studies as Roy was.
She couldn’t fret her afternoon away, but she hoped to know the answers, and surely she would, soon enough. “If Roy drops by,” she whispered, nearly holding her breath every time a courting buggy made the bend in the road and headed this way. Oh, what she’d give to feel her hand in his on this beautiful November Lord’s Day!
Chapter 17
The following Tuesday morning, Jenny was reminded of her visit with Ella Mae Zook. Rebecca brought it up right after she said Guder Mariye when Jenny appeared in the kitchen to help with cooking.
Jenny repeated the words, which meant good morning. She smiled as she recalled how Rebecca had been spending more time teaching her Deitsch since just Sunday evening, when they’d sat down together following supper. Jenny had noticed an almost maternal change in Rebecca’s demeanor and was delighted for the extra help. Samuel, on the other hand, seemed quieter than ever, but Jenny assumed the reverence of the Lord’s Day had something to do with it. Except his reticence has continued into the week, she thought.
“There’s a bit of ironing and mending to do after breakfast,” Rebecca said. “Then we’ll clean the main level of the house before making the noon meal. And, while we work, why don’t we practice speaking Deitsch?”
Jenny was heartened. “I’d like that. Denki.”
“We’ll start with a review of the more common expressions, then go over some household words.”
It was great how Rebecca was jumping on board with Jenny’s goal. She hurried to get the flour out of the pantry, and on the way noticed Andrew Lapp through the window, walking across the yard toward the barn. He was waving his straw hat at something, and she caught herself smiling. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why such a handsome guy was still single, especially in Amish country. She remembered what Marnie had said—something about a number of young women trying to catch his eye but failing. Andrew’s being unattached was a mystery, indeed.
———
When Samuel and two of his nephews came in for breakfast, Jenny wondered if Andrew might also join them. But when she glanced out the window again, she saw his spring wagon heading up the road. Not once had he shared a meal there since her arrival. But then again, he came to help sporadically; undoubtedly he had to return to his own work.
Besides, it was silly to set her eyes on a man, no matter how appealing he seemed to be. I don’t need any distractions!
———
“Eli needs my help repairing his horse fence this afternoon,” Samuel stated to Rebecca during breakfast. “I’d like ya to groom Ol’ Molasses for me.” She nodded quickly, then glanced at Jenny. “We did have plans already to go ’n’ see Ella Mae.”
“You’ll just have to postpone” came Samuel’s swift reply. “You can’t be takin’ the oldest horse out on the road anyways. He will have his fill of miles by then.”
Rebecca was torn between wanting to say something privately to Samuel and demonstrating her willingness to submit in all matters. Especially now, with Jenny observing. How else was the young woman going to learn to be a good wife someday?
“Maybe I’ll send Jenny over there on foot by herself,” she replied mildly. She didn’t want to spoil Jenny’s plans, and Ella Mae would be expecting her, even looking forward to the visit.
“Maybe she could stay home and work on hitchin’ up instead,” Samuel shot back. “Or spend time helping you with groomin’. ’Tis the best way to bond with a horse, ya know.”
Rebecca stiffened, resenting his tone but refusing to let it get the best of her. Why is he so blunt?
She simply nodded again and cut into the sausage and scrambled eggs on her plate. Oh, she hoped Jenny understood that Samuel was a kind man and good husband, not as demanding as he seemed here lately. Sadly, his benevolent side had all but disappeared.
Jenny realized Rebecca was doing her husband’s bidding and sacrificing the time for her own chores by grooming the aging horse. She accompanied Rebecca out to the stable, offering to help. Thus far, Jenny had seen no sign of any delayed resistance to Samuel’s earlier demands, which surprised her. Hearing Samuel bark his orders at the table had given her a headache. In fact, she wanted to mention something to Rebecca but knew she’d better not. Observing the woman’s meek behavior with her husband reinforced what Marnie had written in her letters about the importance of submission in marriage and in the community. Surrendering her will, thought Jenny. Resigning selfish wishes and desires in the silence of the soul.
After Rebecca shooed her back to the house to clean up the kitchen, Jenny wished she could hurry down to the little springhouse to collect her thoughts . . . and pray for humility. And to reside quietly in Christ. Because if a future husband ever spoke that way to her, she knew she would stand up to him. The core of her heart was anything but obedient. Far from it.
“Mom talks right over Dad,” she whispered. Yet she’s devoted to him. But everyone interrupted and talked over everyone. She considered the twenty-four-hour news shows on TV and talk radio . . . even conversations with co-workers or friends.
At that moment, Jenny could see a marked difference between her father and Samuel Lapp. One was well satisfied to let a woman have her say, and the other had to have the upper hand.
She recalled Samuel’s remark that she ought to stay home to practice hitching up. Actually, it was the last thing Jenny wanted to do this afternoon. Would discounting his wishes be stubborn and haughty?
I’ll ask Ella Mae about submission, Jenny decided, wishing she had the right to wander at will today. A brisk walk might help her get past the frustration over Samuel’s insistence. But could she find her way around Hickory Hollow without Rebecca’s help?
The air was chilly and a light wind had come up as Jenny set out to follow Rebecca’s directions down Hickory Lane and beyond. Rebecca had said Ella Mae was known for her specially brewed peppermint tea, which would be waiting for Jenny upon her arrival, “to warm you up.”
The way Rebecca had rebounded from the earlier conversation with Samuel still surprised Jenny, even though nothing more had been said at the noon meal. She was beginning to think her own skin must be too thin. As good-natured and compliant as Rebecca was, she must have already forgotten or even overlooked Samuel’s words.
Jenny planned to note in her journal the times when Rebecca acquiesced to Samuel. She’d never known such a humble spirit. It just wasn’t human nature to be that way.
She heard a horse clip-clopping behind her but didn’t want to glance over her shoulder, in case it was a man driving this way. She was still finding her way through the labyrinth of social expectations. I don’t want to make another misstep!
Next thing she knew, the horse was slowing to keep pace with her as she walked quickly along the roadside. Uncomfortable as it was, she did not dare turn to look.
“Hullo there.” The voice was surprisingly familiar.
She spied Andrew Lapp there, riding in his spring wagon. He held the reins taut, his muscular arms parallel to his knees.
“Wie bischt?”
“Yuscht fine, and you?” she replied, wondering why she felt so lighthearted around a man she hardly knew.
“Say, I believe you’re comin’ along with your Amish.”
“Denki, but it’s pretty jumbled.”
“We all begin somewhere, ain’t?”
She wondered if he was going to offer her a ride and almost hoped so. Was it written on her face?
“Are ya headin’ anywhere in particular?” he asked, and there was that twinkle again. Was he really just a flirt?
“Out for a long walk.”
“But not aimlessly walkin’, jah?” He chuckled. “You remind me of someone.” He slowed the horse even more. “Spunky . . . and with the same color of hair.”
“Anyone I might know?”
“Well, now, I’m tryin’ to think who ’tis.”
She laughed softly. Was he fishing to see what she knew about Katie Lapp Fisher? Marnie had said on Sunday that Jenny could be mistaken for Katie’s sister.
She kept walking, picking up her speed a little now and wondering if he’d make his horse follow suit.
“How’re things goin’ so far?”
“Wunnerbaar-gut,” she replied.
“Glad to hear it.”
“By the way, I’m headed to Ella Mae Zook’s—am I going the right way?”
“You certainly are. Not much farther now before you turn to the north.” Andrew grinned and cued his horse to trot, giving her a big wave before he moved along. “Hatyee—so long, Jenny!”
She fought a smile of her own, unable to get a read on his peculiar actions. What made this man tick?
Chapter 18
Jenny passed by Marnie’s house on the way to Ella Mae’s but didn’t see her friend anywhere outdoors. Probably busy helping her mother prepare food for one of the first of many Thursday weddings, she thought, remembering what Marnie had said last time.
A row of potted orange mums on the front porch steps caught her eye with its colorful display. Marnie had written more than a month ago about going to a nearby greenhouse to purchase autumn plants from their Amish neighbor, Maryanna, whose young children helped her prepare orders for customers.
The wind rose even more by the time Jenny made the right-hand turn at the far end of Nate Kurtz’s massive cornfield, where she could finally see the farmhouse Rebecca had so perfectly described.
Ella Mae Zook, minus her cane, greeted Jenny on the small white porch off her side of the complex of houses attached to the main one. She ushered Jenny inside out of the cold, into a pleasantly snug kitchen that smelled appealingly of peppermint. A yellow ceramic teapot adorned with a yellow-and-green tea cozy awaited on the counter.
Jenny took off her black shawl and outer bonnet, both of which belonged to Rebecca. “Where would you like me to hang them?” she asked politely.
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