The Secret Keeper

by Beverly Lewis

  Annie nodded. “Hard to understand why some elderly folk are clear-minded right up to the end, and others, well . . .” Her voice trailed away. “But the dear Lord knows.”

  Rebecca agreed, struck again by how tenderhearted Annie was and always had been.

  They talked of the quilting bee at Mary Beiler’s house for a while. Then, during a lull in the conversation, Rebecca asked, “Have ya heard ’bout your brother’s Bible study groups?”

  Annie said she had. “Elam thinks it’s mighty bold of Daniel to invite anyone who wants to come, knowin’ plenty of our young folk might wander over there.”

  “Well, if they ain’t baptized yet, what’s the worry?” Instantly Rebecca froze. Did I really just let that fly out of my mouth?

  Annie gave her a startled look but didn’t say more on the subject. “Heard Katie’s expecting a baby again. Wish we could see her and the children . . . and Dan.” She said the latter in a whisper, with a little catch in her voice.

  The dear girl.

  “We’ve been prayin’ the bishop might ease the Bann on Katie and Dan—even lift it entirely.” Annie bowed her head. “Would be such a help to the family, ya know.”

  Rebecca sighed, not daring to discuss it. She did wonder, however, exactly who’d shared the news of Katie’s coming babe with Annie. Could it be Annie’s mother knew? Surely that was so. It was hard to imagine the elder Fishers not knowing something so important. Like Annie, surely they, too, were missing the chance to know Dan and Katie’s little ones.

  Before leaving, Rebecca handed Annie a basketful of peach and pear jams.

  “Come see us anytime,” she said, giving her a quick hug.

  “Oh, we will. Denki for stoppin’ in, Mamm.”

  “Why don’t yous come for Christmas dinner?” Rebecca said quickly.

  “Well, we would, but Mamma’s been askin’ us to go there this year.” Annie’s eyes were sad. “Ach, sorry. We’d really love to . . . but maybe for Second Christmas instead?”

  Rebecca agreed, glad their church district observed the visiting holiday right away after Christmas, on December twenty-sixth. All the Amish shops in Hickory Hollow and surrounding areas would be closed for the occasion. “Jah, it’ll be nice to look forward to that.” Ever so nice.

  “I can’t promise till I talk to Elam, of course, but I’ll let you know. If not Second Christmas, then for sure New Year’s.”

  Rebecca assumed the latter was the soonest they’d make it over, which was fine. Between Annie’s parents and grandparents, and all of Elam’s and her siblings, she and Elam would have many invitations. Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if Dan and Katie had ever invited them over there.

  She waved and made her way out the door to the waiting horse and carriage.

  Jenny was excited to be riding down Hickory Lane in the pony cart. She did feel a bit strange, though, a grown woman sitting cross-legged like this, the black strings from her outer bonnet fluttering over her shoulder.

  Jenny admired the sky, delighting in the day. Across the way, horses silently milled about the pasture, two of them trotting now, long tails flying.

  Suddenly—crack, snap—and a lurch!

  Josie galloped off free, away from the pony cart!

  “Oh no,” Jenny muttered, disgusted. “How’d that happen?”

  There Jenny sat, stranded in the middle of the road and feeling embarrassed and upset. Scrambling out of the cart, she called to the spirited pony only to watch her trot through a hole in the neighbors’ horse fence.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, she could see Andrew Lapp and his sister Emmalyn coming this way in Andrew’s open buggy. He was waving as he slowed the horse, apparently ready to jump down from the carriage and onto the road.

  “For pity’s sake, Jenny . . . what happened to ya?”

  She explained quietly, painfully aware of Emmalyn, who was still perched there in her brother’s buggy. More fuel for ridicule, Jenny thought miserably.

  “Here, let’s get the cart off the road some,” said Andrew, pulling it over to the shoulder.

  Then, before either of them could say more, Emmalyn got down and offered to bring the pony back. “Is that Josie over there?” She pointed beyond the fence.

  “Jah.” Jenny wondered how she knew. As Emmalyn hurried off to catch the pony, Jenny turned back to Andrew, relieved there wasn’t a hint of mockery on his face. “I did everything I’ve been taught about hitching up,” she declared.

  “Never mind all that,” Andrew said, brushing it away. “I’m just glad we came along when we did.”

  Jenny mustered a smile. “I am, too.”

  “And not just to help you, neither.” A slow grin crept across his face. “I’m very happy to see you in the daylight again.” He chuckled. “I mean that.”

  She blushed a little as she realized their secret meetings would always be under the covering of night. “It is kind of nice, I admit,” she said as she shaded her eyes and glanced at the sky.

  “You mustn’t get down on yourself over this, okay?” He assured her that it could happen to anyone who was still getting used to hitching up, though Jenny knew he was being kind. “With enough practice, you’ll be an expert soon enough.”

  “That’s what you think!”

  They both had a good laugh, and when he reached for her hand, standing in front of her as if to block his sister’s view, Jenny was the one trying not to smile too much.

  “I look forward to our prayer time this evening,” he said, releasing her hand as he stepped back.

  Jenny agreed, watching Emmalyn bound across the snowy meadow with the pony, coming this way. She led Josie around to the break in the fence, then out to the road. With both Andrew and Emmalyn to talk Jenny through it, the three of them had Josie hitched up solidly in no time.

  When it was time to part, Jenny and Andrew simultaneously said good-bye in Deitsch, and they laughed again, more softly this time. And as he returned to his horse and buggy, Jenny noticed a hint of a smile on Emmalyn’s face. It seemed Andrew’s youngest sister was no longer an adversary.

  Chapter 40

  Rebecca slipped out to the back porch after evening Bible. She wondered where Jenny had gone. Here lately on Thursday evenings, she’d noticed her missing from the house. Not that she cared one way or the other—she guessed the poor thing needed to get outdoors alone, perhaps to sort out her thoughts. The seeker was spinning her wheels some, and it was clear that she might be questioning her resolve. Was the Amish life really what Jenny wanted? Of course, it didn’t help that she’d become disheartened due to Marnie’s and Naomi’s sudden interest in moving away. And my own shortcomings, as well, no doubt, Rebecca thought sadly.

  One thing was sure, the half moon was a glimmering splendor tonight, and Rebecca drank in the sight as she admired the stars, taking a deep breath of frosty air out on the back porch.

  Later, when she heard Jenny’s soft steps coming up from the springhouse, Rebecca slipped back inside.

  For each and every day that week, Rebecca felt like she was doing the same things over and over again. Did Jenny feel it, too? That is, until Katie’s letter arrived with an idea she wanted to explore. Her little boy’s one and only Christmas wish was to meet his Dawdi Samuel, and Katie wanted Rebecca to think about that.

  Talk it over with Dat. After all, he is Sammy’s namesake. Please pray about it, too.

  We’d like to come for Christmas dinner at your house. I would prepare a meal for you and Dat here, but Dan and I have already gone over that and realize it’s out of the question, given the rules of the shunning. Don’t ask Dat—just tell him. Okay, I’m smiling at that last line, but please do think about it.

  With our love,

  Katie

  Rebecca shuddered at the very notion of telling Samuel, who didn’t even know she’d been corresponding with their daughter, let alone met and held their darling Fisher grandchildren. Knowing her husband was a stickler for the Ordnung, Rebecca couldn’t see how he would bend eve
n this far. And if by some marvel he did so, what would the ministerial brethren think of it?

  Of course, if she and Samuel could meet all the requirements for having Dan and Katie there for a meal—eat at separate tables and not pass the food directly from their own hands to Katie’s and Dan’s—perhaps Samuel might just agree. Oh, she hoped so. With all of her heart, she did.

  Still, Rebecca was certain that, just because it was permitted in the letter of the law, such a visit—even at Christmas—would not be looked upon favorably by their stern bishop.

  Jenny wasn’t sure how it came up at the springhouse pond Thursday evening, but she and Andrew had been talking about the Amish way to celebrate Christmas, and she found herself confiding in him. They sat on the stone wall, watching the moon’s likeness glitter on the pond’s partially frozen surface. “I’ve been freaking out lately, Andrew,” she told him. “Do you know what that means?”

  He chuckled a little. “Only that you need more encouragement, ain’t?”

  “I feel like I’m on the edge, unable to cut it here.” She paused and sighed. “It’s everything I want, but—”

  “Jenny, listen. Samuel wants to shepherd you a bit—show you how to hitch one of the ponies up to the pony cart. It’s like you’ve passed some sort of test with him, I’m thinkin’.”

  “Samuel? Are you sure?”

  “He wants to help you, Jenny. Hitching up is just the first step in his, well, fatherly role with you.”

  She’d never had a word alone with the man . . . wasn’t sure he could actually conduct a conversation with her. “I’m astonished but really glad to hear it.”

  “Samuel Lapp’s a mighty fine mentor. Do you trust me when I say this?” He reached for her mittened hand. “I know you will be a gut Amishwoman someday. And now, clearly Samuel believes it, too.”

  “Denki,” she managed, thrilling at her hand in his.

  “And, since you shared with me, I’d like to tell you why Emmalyn is so protective.”

  He hadn’t let go of her hand, and she was intrigued by the urgency in his voice. They certainly were not doing much praying tonight!

  Andrew began by saying he’d once fallen in love with a sweet Amish girl, whom he’d courted for some time. She was devout and they’d planned to marry. “In fact, it was just three weeks from our wedding—three weeks to the day—when she told me she’d set her eyes on the world and wanted to leave the hollow.” He paused briefly. “And of course, me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. What else could she say?

  “That was several years ago.”

  “So thus your sister’s concern over an outsider—me—spending time with you.”

  He nodded, cupping her hand in both of his. Finally he released it, saying it was time they started to pray, but he began by reciting the Lord’s Prayer, first in English, followed by his first language.

  Andrew lingered much longer than ever before, and after they said good-night, Jenny considered why he was still single: Marnie and Naomi weren’t the first young people to grumble over joining church. And knowing how pressed to the wall she’d been recently, unsettled and on the periphery and not fully Amish herself, Jenny was scared. She did not want to break Andrew’s heart . . . again.

  During a breakfast of Rebecca’s tasty mush made from cornmeal and sausage the next morning, Samuel asked Jenny to go out with him to hitch up the pony cart. Just as Andrew said, she thought. Should’ve waited to do this with Samuel!

  Jenny was surprised at how patient, even nurturing, Samuel was with both the frisky pony and with Jenny herself.

  “You’ve had quite a time of it here, ain’t?” he said, petting Josie’s mane. “Farm life is a big adjustment for a city girl.” She smiled, pleased he was actually talking with her.

  “Well, and not only that.” He held the short shafts and backed the pony into them.

  Of course, Samuel didn’t need to point out her English upbringing, but she knew he meant as much. “I’m looking forward to your hosting church here this Sunday,” she said, making small talk.

  “’Tis a big responsibility, and one not to be taken lightly. We believe this old farmhouse will become the house of worship for the day. An honor and a blessing, to be sure.”

  “I understand Rebecca’s sisters are coming Saturday to help prepare the food to be served at the meals.”

  “Including the pies.” Samuel grinned and then his face turned solemn. “It is our desire to be at peace with Gott and the church.”

  Jenny understood by now that the unity of the congregation was highly desired—even necessary—before each Preaching service. “I pray it will be so,” she said.

  The sky was speckled with cotton-ball clouds, and the wind began to pick up as, with Samuel’s assistance, she helped where she could. The weather had turned colder overnight, marching toward deep winter, and it reminded her of the passage of time.

  Jenny felt the familiar pang of disappointment as she watched Samuel’s hands move expertly through the process. It was as if the Amish world was a complicated tango, moving here and there in perfect rhythm, and she still didn’t know the steps.

  When they were finished, Samuel suggested she hop in and go up the road a piece. “Chust fer Schpass—for fun.”

  She got in and picked up the lines. “Like this?” she asked, recalling her own short-lived jaunt up the road, thankful the grapevine hadn’t spread word of the mishap to the Lapps’ ears.

  “You’ll do fine if ya stay on the rechts side of the road.”

  “I can remember that. Denki,” she said and was off.

  Although the ride was satisfying and fun, Jenny had a hard time thinking of anything but Andrew’s rescuing her the last time she’d done this. To think last night he had shared so personally with her about his heartache. Especially the reason behind it.

  He’d asked if she trusted him, but she wasn’t sure she trusted her own heart anymore.

  Marnie strolled to the barn, carrying a weight of worry. She’d spent all morning cleaning house with her mother and mentally rehearsing what she wanted to say to Daed. And she questioned why God had planted this powerful longing to know Him better if it was so frowned upon.

  “I wish I had no heart, it aches so.” The words from Little Women, which she’d just recently reread, resonated in her mind.

  She pushed open the barn door and crept inside, but when she asked her older brother where Daed was, Jacob pointed to the milk house. Nodding, she headed across the way and approached the doorway. She could hear her father muttering as he scrubbed down the bulk milk tank.

  “Daed?” she said. “Can I talk to ya?”

  He raised his head. “What’s on your mind?”

  She froze.

  “Marnie?” He looked at her with searing gray eyes. “Speak up if you’re gonna talk.”

  She’d dreaded this and now she wished she hadn’t thought she was so brave. “Maybe you’ve heard from the grapevine.”

  “For pity’s sake, you’re gonna have to talk louder, Marnie!”

  She wished he wouldn’t talk so, at least to her. “I want to move out,” she declared in her strongest voice. “After Christmas, I’ll go an’ stay with Dan and Katie Fisher . . . just till Roy Flaud and I wed.”

  “Well, if you’re that determined, why wait?”

  She gasped, but he couldn’t have heard, not with his head halfway into the tank. So that’s his first response?

  “Thought it’d be nice to stay round for Christmas, is all.” She felt all in and close to tears. “I don’t want to disobey you, but I love Roy. I truly do.”

  Daed kept on cleaning, not looking up.

  “I thought it’d bring less shame on you and Mamm this way.”

  “Shame on us? But not on yourself, Marnie?” Daed rose and straightened to his full height. “Daughter, you are not behavin’ at all the way your mother and I raised ya to be.” He shook his head and stared her down.

  She saw the crow’s feet near his eye
s, the wrinkle lines around his chapped lips. She remembered Ella Mae’s comments about her youthful father, so long ago. Still, it made her sad that she was the reason for Daed’s somber face just now.

  “You’re such gut friends with that seeker-girl. Why can’t ya be more like Jenny Burns?” he bellowed, his face brighter than a red beet. “That’s all I have to say!”

  Marnie turned and left the milk house, running as hard as she could through the meadow, aware of the snow-laden earth beneath her feet. She ran till she had no breath left in her before stopping to rest, panting and leaning against the coarse tree bark on Samuel Lapp’s property. I came all that way, she realized, turning to look back but refusing to think poorly of her father. No, she put herself right into his old work boots and knew, without a doubt, that she would feel the selfsame way if her daughter stood up to her like this.

  Poor man, as staunch as he is, he does deserve a daughter like Jenny!

  Chapter 41

  After the Preaching service and the shared meal, Jenny and Marnie worked up a sweat with Rebecca and her sisters in the assembly line in the steamy kitchen. Jenny’s mind was still reeling, attempting to understand both German sermons that morning, although she’d caught a few more words and phrases than two weeks ago. She was most impressed by the fervency of the People’s singing from the Ausbund hymnal—it would take some time for her to learn the Gregorian-like chanting of the melancholy songs of the Anabaptist martyrs.

  “You’re lost in thought,” Jenny whispered to her friend.

  “I am?”

  Jenny smiled. “I think we need to talk . . . alone.”

  Marnie agreed. “You don’t know the half.”

  Cringing, Jenny passed the newly dried dishes to Rebecca’s younger sister, who carefully stacked them in a large box with padding for each plate. Rebecca had explained that this same enormous set of dishes was transported from house to house for weddings, funerals, and the shared meal following church.

  Once they were finished cleaning up and the place looked as spotless as it had last night, Jenny invited Marnie upstairs to her room until Chester and Peggy were ready to leave for home. “You look like you might burst,” Jenny said when they’d closed the bedroom door. “Are you all right, Marnie?”