The Secret Keeper

by Beverly Lewis

  No need for cell phones here!

  Rebecca quietly handed Jenny a platter of pancakes to carry to the table. Her hostess’s rather sudden detachment weighed on Jenny. What had changed between them?

  When Jenny arrived at the Beilers’ farmhouse, the back door was standing open, but the storm door was closed. So she knocked softly, her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird in her throat.

  I’ll be working for the man who holds my very future in his hands!

  No one came, and she knocked harder, hoping Mattie hadn’t gotten her wires crossed about Jenny’s being needed this morning.

  Should she keep knocking?

  Unsure of herself, Jenny raised her hand again, and at that second Mary appeared, coming this way through the utility room. She beamed when she spotted Jenny and appeared dressed for errands in a pretty maroon dress and matching apron. Her black outer bonnet was already perched on her blond head, its black strings hanging down the front.

  “Oh, gut, you did get the message from my sister-in-law. Mattie said you’d be visiting Ella Mae yesterday.” Mary smiled. “The girls are lookin’ forward to seeing you again. Emily and Anna are playing with their dollies in the playpen.” She continued, saying Jenny didn’t have to entertain them. “Just be close by if they need anything.” Mary waved at Mary Mae, who sat at the table coloring.

  Jenny wondered why the two younger girls were confined so, but she didn’t ask.

  “You’ll find fresh-baked cookies in the cookie jar,” Mary said, pointing to the counter on the left side of the sink. “John’s out in the barn, feeding the livestock. He won’t be inside till I return to cook the noon meal. But if ya need anything, just holler.”

  Jenny nodded, careful to pay close attention.

  “If you wouldn’t mind peeling those potatoes for me, that’d be a mighty big help.” She indicated the mound on the counter in a large plastic mixing bowl. “Mary Mae likes to scrub ’em, so she’ll be a gut little helper.”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Jenny replied, glancing at the three darling girls sitting so quietly.

  Mary reached down and touched the baby’s head. “You children behave yourselves for Jenny, won’t ya now?” The girls looked up at her solemnly as Mary repeated her instructions for them in Deitsch.

  “I love their names,” Jenny said.

  Mary smiled and blushed a bit as she reached for her black woolen shawl and tied her black bonnet under her round chin. She picked up a wicker basket with a blue-and-white-checked cloth covering over it. “Like I said, I’ll be back shortly. Denki ever so much, Jenny.”

  “Take your time.” Jenny followed her to the back door, wondering if she should secure it behind her. Not knowing for sure, she locked it anyway.

  Mary dashed out to the waiting horse and family carriage, her heavy wrap swooshing against her calves.

  Just knowing she would likely not encounter the bishop today put Jenny more at ease. Turning back to the two younger girls, she sat on the wood bench on one side of the long table and smiled down into the playpen at them.

  “Wu is Dat?” three-year-old Emily asked, grinning at her coyly, then standing and leaning her little head against the playpen railing.

  “Your daddy’s outside,” Jenny said in English. She hadn’t brought along the Deitsch dictionary and couldn’t piece together anything the child could understand.

  “Dawdi?” the little girl said.

  “Nee, not Dawdi . . . Dat.”

  Oh, was this ever frustrating! Mary Mae looked at her curiously, then said something softly to Emily, which seemed to satisfy the younger girl. Maybe this will work out after all, Jenny thought.

  A half hour later, someone startled her with a knock at the back door. Jenny looked up in the midst of playing dolls with the girls. There stood Hezekiah Stoltzfus, peering in against the pane of glass, jiggling the door handle.

  “Oh boy,” she whispered, glancing back at the girls as she made her way through the kitchen.

  “Yes, what is it?” she asked through the door, keeping it closed—she wanted to be known as a principled young woman in this place of conservative expectations.

  “Is Bishop John around anywhere?” he asked, surprise evident on his face, as well.

  “Mary said he’s in the barn.”

  Hezekiah smiled and straightened up. “Well, all right, then.” With that, he turned and hurried across the lawn.

  She closed the inside door, which made the utility room less bright, but she felt better about it.

  Remembering the potatoes, Jenny began to wash and set about peeling them, amazed at the happy sound of the unintelligible murmurings between the adorable little girls in the corner.

  In a few minutes, Mary Mae slid off the bench, scooted a chair over to the sink, and crawled up on it to stand next to Jenny. Very soon the two of them had a system going as the heap of potatoes on the counter began to diminish in size. Mary Mae washed them and passed them on to the opposite sink for peeling by Jenny. The long strips piled up quickly in the second sink.

  While she worked, Mary Mae chattered to Jenny in Deitsch, as though Jenny understood. It was so endearing. She loved having this opportunity to work alongside such a small Amish girl.

  If my sister saw this, she’d be shocked speechless!

  When Jenny finished peeling the potatoes, she washed her hands, dried them, and checked on little Anna, who’d fallen asleep on one of the cloth dolls in a corner of the playpen.

  Meanwhile, Emily continued playing in the opposite corner, talking quietly to her doll. Mary Mae went to a hutchlike buffet on the other side of the kitchen, opened the second drawer, and pulled out some construction paper and a blunt pair of scissors. Then, without being told, she slid onto the wood bench and sat at the table.

  This job is a piece of cake. As Jenny wandered into what Rebecca called the front room, she wished Mary had assigned her more housework. A large German family Bible lay on top of a beautiful wooden writing desk, but she didn’t touch it, only admired it.

  In the near corner stood a tall oak cupboard, obviously custom made and quite old, though not an antique. She was especially drawn to the tea sets and decorative plates inside, all lined up in a colorful fashion in their respective grooves.

  Seeing these items reminded her of the shop in Essex, where she’d enjoyed the parade of furnishings and trinkets from long ago. It had been fun to assist the customers who had come to purchase antiques. Cherishing the past.

  Jenny wandered back toward the kitchen, through the small room just beyond the front room, and smiled to see a rocker made of beautiful bleached willow branches. It crossed her mind to sit in it to see how comfortable it was, but Mary hadn’t actually said to make herself at home. Not like most of the women she’d baby-sat for as a teenager, who had shown her the soda in the fridge and offered stacks of movies to peruse.

  Just then she noticed Hezekiah Stoltzfus walking outdoors with another man, presumably the bishop, who looked younger than she’d envisioned. Better looking, too—tall, blond, with the predictable full beard of a married Amishman.

  The two men stood and talked for a short time before getting into Hezekiah’s carriage and riding off.

  “The bishop must trust me a lot,” Jenny whispered.

  Had Rebecca put a good word in for her? Why else would Bishop Beiler be comfortable with a near stranger in charge of his youngest children?

  Mary Mae’s head leaned close to her paper and scissors as she worked to cut out various shapes. Jenny strolled about the kitchen, intrigued by the unusual wall clock with fanciful black trim and the large pastoral calendar hanging on the back of the cellar door. If their cold cellar was anything like Rebecca Lapp’s, there were rows and rows of canning jars lining the shelves down there. “As many as eight hundred,” Rebecca had said.

  Jenny noticed a slip of paper in the center of the gas-powered fridge and tried to read the Deitsch: Dan un Katie Fisher hawwe Gemee an die Haus. The names startled her—it was something about
Rebecca’s son-in-law and daughter. And as Jenny read the Deitsch, she realized she understood it—even Gemee, which she’d heard Marnie say. The words were similar to their German counterparts. Evidently Dan and Katie Fisher were having meetings of some kind in their house. Bible studies, perhaps? Jenny wondered. She knew this wouldn’t be acceptable in Hickory Hollow, but Dan and Katie were shunned.

  What’s the purpose of this note?

  Jenny was so curious, she determined to find a way to ask Rebecca about it. As if she’d know . . . Then Jenny realized that was silly. Neither Samuel nor Rebecca would likely be aware of this.

  Would Marnie know?

  “Gucke, Maidel.” Mary Mae’s voice broke into her thoughts. The little girl smiled and pointed to her cutout design.

  “Oh, it’s very pretty,” Jenny said. Then, trying to communicate better, she went over and lightly touched the art before pointing to her own smile. She so wanted to talk to Mary Mae, but the language barrier was just that—an obstruction between herself and the sweet girl.

  Jenny sat on the bench next to her and picked up a green crayon, drawing a smiley face in the upper right-hand corner of one of the sheets of paper. “Jah?”

  Mary Mae’s eyes sparkled. “Jah,” she replied, bobbing her head up and down. She reached for the coloring book and pointed to the right side, babbling nonstop in Deitsch as she poked the page closest to Jenny.

  “You want me to color with you,” Jenny said, happy to indulge.

  Some time later, Emily began to squirm and stood up waiting quietly for Jenny to give the nod that she could get out of the playpen. When Jenny got up to get her, Emily had already leaned over the railing and climbed out.

  Unable to resist, Jenny offered her a hand and brought her over to look at Mary Mae’s artwork. She sat down with Emily next to her, and was surprised when Mary Mae put a blue crayon in Emily’s hand and turned the page, talking to her in Deitsch. “It’s always nice to share with your sister,” Jenny said, smiling again at the five-year-old, delighted at this gesture. The youngster obviously exemplified the training of her Amish mother. Sharing was precious, but it had to be taught.

  Jenny heard a commotion outside and turned toward the kitchen window. Unbelievably, a cow ambled past, heading down the driveway. “Oh no!”

  Another cow came along, right behind. Glancing at Anna, still asleep in the playpen, and the two older girls sitting at the table, Jenny hurried to the utility room to look out the windows there. A third Holstein bellowed after the first two. She unlocked the back door and stared out. It certainly appeared the barnyard fence was broken or someone had accidently left a gate open. What else could have happened?

  Jenny’s first inclination was to rush and secure the barnyard fence, but then she looked toward the road and saw the trio of cows lumbering down that way.

  Oh, what should I do? She wrung her apron hem, distraught. Dare I leave the girls alone and attempt to bring back the cows?

  Chapter 21

  Rebecca Lapp gasped. She could see three black-and-white heifers rambling down the middle of Hickory Lane. “Samuel, kumme schnell!” she called out the back door, then reached for an old jacket and hurried for the steps.

  In no time, Samuel flew out the barn door and came running across the yard, this way.

  “Someone’s cows got out,” she hollered, not waiting for Samuel to catch up. But he quickly outran her, headed straight for the road. “Pity’s sake, whose are they?”

  Samuel kept going, taking off his straw hat and calling, “Coboss! Shoo . . . get on home now.” He blocked their way, waving at the lead cow. “Coboss!”

  “Oh, goodness. Ain’t the bishop’s, are they?”

  Samuel nodded. “Certainly are.”

  Rebecca’s heart sank. Surely this had nothing to do with Jenny Burns.

  Ach, mercy no . . . surely not!

  Jenny felt nervous about leaving the children unattended and went back to the kitchen to check on Anna, who remained sound asleep, her little head cushioned by a light blanket.

  Smiling, Jenny reached for Emily and motioned for Mary Mae to come along with her, as well. She led them to the utility room, where she swiftly helped Emily put on her coat and a small black winter bonnet while Mary Mae dressed herself. Jenny then slipped on Rebecca’s shawl and woolen scarf before hurrying outside with both girls.

  “See there?” Jenny pointed to the barnyard and tried to explain what she assumed had happened. And she soon verified what she’d suspected—the barn gate was open just enough for the cows to wander out. Had more escaped than she’d seen?

  Reaching up, she secured the gate and heard voices in the field behind her. She and the girls turned to see Samuel Lapp herding three cows across the harvested cornfield, Rebecca coming close behind, her cheeks bright pink from the cold.

  “Oh, good, the cows are back,” Jenny said, relieved. I think we’d better open the gate again, she thought as Mary Mae and Emily clapped their hands, all smiles.

  ———

  Once the cows were safely corralled, Jenny invited Samuel and Rebecca indoors to warm up. She offered them the hot coffee already on the stove, and Rebecca suggested they ought to wait around for Bishop John and Mary to return. Jenny wasn’t sure why they felt the need but was glad to see Rebecca acting more like her old self.

  Samuel played with Emily, bouncing her on his knee till she could hardly stop giggling. Mary Mae showed off her coloring pictures and cutout designs first to Rebecca, then to Samuel before placing them on the refrigerator with magnets of pigs and cows.

  Jenny was tempted to show Rebecca the refrigerator note about Dan and Katie’s house meetings but decided against it, not knowing how Samuel might react to that sort of news. I can only imagine. . . .

  Later, when Mary returned, Rebecca was quick to tell her what good care Jenny had given the girls. “She even managed to keep an eye on the cows—got the gate closed before more scurried off.”

  Mary nodded and looked pleased as she took it all in. But before long, Jenny noticed Mary glance at the fridge, frown, and rise promptly to remove the note. Without saying a word, Mary opened the cupboard and slipped the note inside.

  So she didn’t want me to see it . . . let alone Samuel and Rebecca!

  The feast began shortly after Marnie’s cousin Linda Ebersol’s three-hour wedding service the next day. Marnie blushed when she caught Roy gazing fondly at her from across the room. Her heart did a little flutter, and she thought ahead to that evening’s barn Singing for the courting-age youth. Many of them are couples like Roy and me.

  But she didn’t have to endure the long afternoon hours waiting for that particular gathering to bring them face-to-face, or for the feel of her small hand in his. After the delicious meal and a brief time of hymn singing, Roy gave her a sign with his brown eyes and a meaningful dip of his head. He slipped out the back door, intending for her to follow, which she did, after donning her warmest woolen coat and black outer bonnet and gloves.

  “Oh, Marnie. I could hardly wait to be alone like this,” Roy said as he led her around behind the big barn, where the sun shone against the white wood slats and made it more tolerable to be out in the cold.

  She smiled, longing to say the same thing back but letting him do the talking instead. And just that quick, he was leaning closer, smiling down at her, blocking the sun from her eyes. She looked up at him, taking in the arch of his brow, the intensity of his gaze . . . and all the while her heart pounded nearly out of her ears.

  “The Lord Gott is ever near, Marnie,” Roy whispered. “As close to you—and to me—as we are now. Closer, really.” He paused a second. “And I believe He wants us to understand how much He cares for us through the experiences we’re havin’.”

  “What experiences?” She could hardly speak.

  “The one I’m askin’ you to share with me.” He leaned ever near, his breath on her face. “Marnie, I want you to go with me to the house meeting I wrote you about. More than anything.”

/>   “But—”

  Roy tilted his head and sweetly kissed her cheek. Then, moving slightly back, he looked deep into her eyes. “Will ya do this . . . for me? Just this once?”

  “I’d do anything for ya, Roy . . . you know that.”

  “Then you’ll go?”

  Those pleading eyes of his . . . how he adored her. She simply could not refuse her darling beau. “Jah, I’ll go along. But only once.”

  His face beamed as he leaned down to kiss her other cheek. “You’ve made me a very happy man today, my sweetheart-girl.”

  Oh, she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and never let go. “When’s the meeting?” she asked, folding her hands against her wrap.

  “I’ll pick you up next Tuesday evening, round six-thirty.” He reached for her right hand and began removing her glove.

  “What’re ya doin’, Roy?”

  “You’ll see.” He raised her smooth, bare hand to his lips and kissed the back of it so tenderly she thought she might cry.

  “I love you so,” Roy said, pressing her hand to his chest. “You know that, don’t ya?”

  Marnie smiled and nodded her head, locking eyes with her future husband. “You sure know how to change my mind, ain’t so?”

  And concerns of her father’s displeasure flew fast away.

  Chapter 22

  The following Monday, Jenny helped Rebecca run the dirty laundry through the wringer washer. It was so tedious and time-consuming, she actually missed using an automatic washer and dryer. As the two women worked side by side, they talked about the remainder of the wedding season, as well as other upcoming church-related activities.