by Sarah Price
He frowned. “Miriam was supposed to make that yesterday. Has she tricked you into doing that too?”
How well he knew her, she thought. “I don’t mind,” she said. “Not much anyway.” And she didn’t, really. Making baskets was much better than washing clothing anyway.
Elijah, however, did not seem to agree. “Nee, Fanny. Besides worrying too much, you work too hard while the others find ways to play. Now, I insist, and Daed put me in charge, ain’t so?”
While she could have argued that Naomi, not Elijah, was assigned the role of “in charge,” she decided against it.
“We can ride for just half an hour,” he said. “Maem won’t be any less fatigued whether or not you ride. And any other chores . . . well, you can do them later.” He gestured for her to leave the garden, pointing toward the barn. “Now you go and fetch that pony, Fanny. I’ll meet you at the oak tree by the pond in five minutes,” he added. “That gives me enough time to divert Naomi’s attention, to tell her that I have sent you on an errand.”
“But you haven’t sent me on an errand!” she replied, alarmed that Elijah might tell a lie on her behalf.
“Ach, Fanny. But I have indeed, and a quick one!” He gave her a friendly smile and winked “Your errand is to meet me there so we can race through the paddock by the tree line!”
This time she stifled her laugh as she couldn’t help feeling pleased. She could always count on him to cheer her up when she was feeling poorly or, in this case, realized that she needed a break from the tedium of constantly working. “Oh, Elijah! You are so very clever, aren’t you!”
He tilted his head in response and motioned toward the barn, putting his finger to his lips for her to remain silent. Then, with great fanfare, he pretended to tiptoe toward the house even though it was clear that Naomi could neither see nor hear him approach her section of the house. Fanny covered her mouth with her hand, delighted with both his antics and his attention. Under the circumstances, she could not have asked for a better cousin-brother, a term she had made up to describe their relationship. To call him just cousin felt insulting, as it hinted that he was no different from the other Bontrager children—he clearly was superior in her eyes, anyway!—and to call him brother felt disrespectful to William, her own dear sibling.
Fanny wiped her hands on her apron as she stood up. Lifting the black bucket, she carried it in the direction where she knew the pony would be waiting. If Naomi saw her, she would just say that she was dumping out the weeds. But, as luck had it, Naomi was not near a window and did not see her leave the garden.
Once she was behind the shed, she set down the bucket and turned to Penny, the medium-sized chestnut pony. It was Elijah’s, but he had made it clear that he had purchased it for her. That only made the pony dearer to her.
True to his word, he had already saddled it. She double-checked the cinch on the Western saddle before she unhitched the pony from the post. Grabbing its mane, she swung herself upon its back.
“Let’s go, Penny,” she said in a soft voice, moving the reins so that the pony headed away from the farm in a direction that was safe from view of any prying eyes.
Fanny had barely arrived at the oak tree by the pond when she heard the thunderous sound of a horse’s hooves pounding against the earth. He was galloping his horse and the noise sent a thrill through her. She perched atop the pony and waited until she could see him approach over the slight rise in the hill.
The pony lifted its head and spooked, dancing to the side as Elijah neared. With gentle hands, Fanny held the reins and calmed the pony.
“What did Naomi say?” she asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He grinned. “Only that she should have approved the errand since Daed put her in charge.”
Yes, that was indeed a typical Naomi response. For her aunt, it was always about being the oldest and, therefore, the wisest among them. The decision maker in the absence of the head of the household. While Naomi would never challenge Timothy’s authority, she certainly made it clear that, ever since her husband died, her brother-in-law was the only one who held more authority on the farm than she did.
Together they rode through the field, Elijah insisting that she keep the pony at a walk. The fresh air and freedom from the farm lightened her mood. Slowly she felt herself relax. Only with Elijah could she feel as if she had no worries. She did not need to fret over his needs the way she agonized over others.
“I wonder how Daed and Thomas are doing in Pinecraft,” Elijah said at last.
“I was wondering just the same,” Fanny admitted. She didn’t dare to mention to Elijah that she had spotted a letter from Timothy. Since he hadn’t mentioned hearing from his father, her aunts hadn’t shared any news with Elijah and that most likely meant that there was trouble brewing. She could only imagine that it was with Thomas, not their grandfather. But all she said to Elijah was, “I’ve been praying that your grossdawdi gets better.”
Elijah sighed and shook his head. “If only they hadn’t moved to Florida.”
Fanny wanted to point out that if onlys were as pointless as what ifs. She had learned that lesson a long time ago, starting from the day she had been sent away from Colorado. But she had never met his grandfather. Like many older Amish couples in the community, Elijah’s grossdawdi and his second wife had moved to the Amish community in Florida where the warmer weather suited their golden years and accommodated his arthritis.
“I do wonder how long they will be there,” Fanny offered, gently guiding the conversation into another direction. “Council and Communion are rapidly approaching.” She didn’t want to remind him that, before both of those worship services took place, Elijah would take his kneeling vow. Unlike his sisters and Fanny, Elijah hadn’t accepted his baptism yet. This year, however, he had decided that it was time.
A solemn expression crossed his face and Fanny realized that he was thinking the very thing that she did not say. Baptism was the most important day in the life of any Amish man or woman, representing a decision to commit his or her life to the Amish church. Once taken, it was a vow that could not be broken without serious consequences. Committing to live by the Ordnung was not a decision that was made without years of contemplation and reflection.
“And then, wedding season,” Fanny added in a soft voice, as if to divert his thoughts. Most young women took their kneeling vow when they were ready to leave their rumschpringe behind and begin courting young men with the intention of settling down. The young men, however, usually became baptized members right after they had decided which young woman they wanted to be their wife. Fanny often wondered why Elijah had decided that this was the year for him to officially join the church since he wasn’t courting anyone. At least not that she was aware, anyway.
“Ah yes, the wedding season.” He laughed. “The announcements will be on the thirtieth of October. That’s Communion, ja? I sure hope Daed is back for that service. Miriam will not be happy if her wedding isn’t announced right away.” He gave a soft smile. “She’s not one to take too kindly to being forced to wait.”
Fanny remained silent. Ever since Timothy had acknowledged Miriam’s upcoming wedding to Jeb, Fanny had dreaded the event, not only because it would be a very long day with a lot of people to feed, but especially because of the tradition of the bride and groom pairing up couples. Fanny did not want to be paired up with any young man, especially one not of her choosing.
At the last wedding the bride had matched Fanny with John Troyer, a sixteen-year-old boy who looked as if he were fourteen. Fanny had eaten the fellowship meal in silence, her eyes occasionally wandering over to where Elijah sat next to John’s older sister, Katie. While they didn’t seem to engage in too much conversation, Elijah hadn’t looked as miserable as Fanny felt. In fact, a few times she saw Elijah speaking to Katie and she responded with a smile.
While there was usually one or two of the matched couples who eventually married, Fanny had breathed a sigh of relief when, a few weeks later, she
overheard Miriam and Julia talking about Katie riding home from a singing in the buggy of another man.
“Well, your daed needs to get home in time for Council, anyway,” Fanny said. “Otherwise he can’t take communion.”
Off in the distance, the sound of a bell ringing caught both of their attention.
Fanny looked at Elijah, the color draining from her cheeks. In the middle of the morning or afternoon, there were usually only two reasons that anyone would ever ring the bell, and they both involved the unexpected: a medical emergency or a death.
“What do you think it might be?” Fanny asked, her eyes wide with fright. “Your maem was doing well when I went outside to garden. Oh! I hope nothing has happened! I knew I should have checked on her!”
Elijah’s reaction was much more relaxed. “Now, Fanny! Must you always jump to a conclusion that involves your worry?” He shortened the left rein, gently guiding the horse’s head back toward the farm. “We’ll find out when we get back to the farm, eh?”
Although short, the ride back seemed to take a lifetime. Fanny’s mind whirled with far too many thoughts about what could possibly have motivated someone at the farm to ring that bell. She couldn’t even remember how long it had been since she had heard the rich sounds of the bell tolling across the fields. Years for certain, and most likely when Naomi’s husband had passed away.
The recollection caused her a moment of panic and she quickly redirected Penny to catch up with Elijah and his horse.
No sooner had they rounded the side of the barn, however, than Fanny saw exactly why the bell had been rung. A car was pulling out of the driveway and there was a tall, lean man standing by the porch, talking with Julia and Naomi. There was a visitor and Julia had pulled the bell string to alert Elijah and Fanny to return to the house.
“William!”
Fanny barely pulled the reins hard enough for Penny to stop before she leapt from the pony’s back and ran across the driveway. She didn’t care that Naomi watched, scowling from the doorway of the grossdawdihaus—whether from Fanny’s outburst or from the realization that Elijah had not sent Fanny on an errand as he had told her earlier. Eight years had elapsed since she had last seen her brother. Fanny laughed and wept at the same time as she hugged him, feeling her hands pressing against his back, a back that was no longer that of a child but that of a man.
“Oh, William!” she cried out, not embarrassed that tears of joy fell from her eyes. “How wunderbarr gut to see you at last!”
He waited until she pulled away from him before he responded jokingly, “Why, you’ve barely changed at all, Schwester!”
Fanny’s smile faded, Timothy’s words echoing in her head.
“Let me look at you!” he said, taking a step backward and assessing the young woman who stood before him. “I always knew you’d be a beauty, Fanny!” He grinned. “And probably still smart as a whip, eh?”
Flattery? Fanny didn’t know if she was ready for flattery. It was something she certainly wasn’t used to receiving. Instead of responding, she glanced over his shoulder at the women standing on the porch: Miriam, Julia, Martha, and, of course, from the other porch, Naomi. She could see Miriam suppress a smile while Naomi flaunted a scowl.
“I reckon you met everyone then?” Fanny managed to ask.
“Oh, ja!” A flicker of his eyes indicated that Elijah had approached from behind. “Except for . . . ?” He paused as he reached out his hand to greet Elijah.
“This is Elijah,” Fanny said, introducing the two men.
“Ah! Elijah!” William grinned and shook his head. “The other big bruder in my dear Fanny’s life!”
Fanny blushed. Not only was she not used to such attention, she certainly did not want Elijah thinking that she wrote letters to her family calling him her “big bruder.” With her discomfort so apparent, she could barely find the words to invite her brother into the house. Fortunately Martha managed to take over and find her voice.
“Kum, William. Visit in the sitting room while Julia makes some fresh meadow tea from the last of the summer mint.”
Inside the house William stood in the center of the room and looked around, his eyes wide as he took in the spacious room and windows. He whistled, just a little, under his breath. Fanny noticed Miriam smirk at his apparent admiration for the Bontrager home.
“Vell now,” William said, “this is a far cry from Colorado, don’t you think, Fanny?”
She felt small and timid under his steady eyes. No one really asked her for her opinion. For a moment she thought of Mary Coblentz and her comment from the singing. It felt awkward to have someone, besides Elijah, place a value on her thoughts. “I—I don’t really recall Colorado.”
“Best forgotten, I’d say!” he replied with a quick smile, despite the harsh undercurrent of his words. “But I reckon you don’t have to share a room, do you now? You’d have to if you were still there, Fanny. Although you and Susan always got on well, so I don’t suppose it would be unpleasant for you.”
He crossed the room and took a seat on the sofa. After pushing aside a worn decorative pillow, he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “The boys though. Why, they are all in one room, just full of bunk beds and babies!”
He laughed and Fanny blushed.
Naomi slipped through the door that led from her small house to the Bontragers’ kitchen. She must have overheard his words for she immediately jumped into the conversation. “Have you been back there, then? To your parents?” Naomi asked.
“Oh, ja, twice now. Once to help Daed and the other time, I was just passin’ through.”
“Like now?” Miriam asked. “Passin’ through?”
If, moments ago, William’s comment about her parents’ having so many babies had brought color to Fanny’s face, Miriam’s question drained it. Fanny didn’t need to look at her cousin to know what Miriam was implying. William was her dearest blood relative, but Miriam knew enough to infer that in Miriam’s eyes he was uneducated and unsophisticated, even by Amish standards. That meant Miriam only had scorn for him. He was of no use to her and, therefore, should continue “passin’ through.”
Fortunately William didn’t notice the insinuation or, if he did, ignored it. “Ja, heading to Indiana.”
“Oh?” Fanny had not heard any news from her family and, despite William’s best attempts to correspond with her, his letters had been few and far between and not always full of details. “What’s in Indiana, William?”
“A job. Aaron sent me to oversee a job out there since he can’t travel so far from home for so long.” William explained. He turned to Elijah. “I’ve been interning with my onkle Aaron since I left Colorado.”
Elijah, who had been leaning against the kitchen counter, moved over to take a seat in the rocking chair and motioned for Fanny to join her brother on the sofa. “Interning? Doing what trade?”
“Carpentry. Building sheds and the like.”
Miriam clicked her tongue.
“Aaron only had two sons. One passed away quite a while ago and the other didn’t join the church. He wants me to buy his business when he’s ready to retire,” William explained.
Sitting beside her brother, Fanny tried to relax. It had been so long that she had seen any of her family that she felt as though she might be dreaming. Her head felt fuzzy as she tried to make sense of the man sitting next to her. Was he truly the grown-up version of the young brother she had left behind in Westcliffe?
“So now you’re headed to Indiana. You’ll return to Pennsylvania then?” Elijah asked.
“Oh, ja. There’s so much new construction in Lancaster County and everyone wants sheds, it seems. Even in Gordonville!”
This time, Miriam looked up, her interest suddenly piqued. “Gordonville?” she asked. “Is that where you live?”
Fanny bit her lip, watching with curiosity as Miriam began to listen more intently to William talk about Gordonville, Pennsylvania, and how the farms were so far apart compared to Ohio. His descripti
on of the area was far different from how Mary described it. No one else seemed to notice or, if they did, no one interrupted William for clarification. Fanny didn’t care. She was simply content to sit there and listen to her brother: his cheerful voice and bright expressions soothed her. He hadn’t written much, and from what she could gather, he hadn’t focused on studying at school when he was sent away. But he seemed happy, and that was all that she could ask for.
“Mayhaps you know the Coblentzes,” Miriam said, interrupting his story.
Immediately William stopped talking.
“Mary and Henry Coblentz?” she added inquisitively. “I’m sure you know them. Everyone knows them.”
“A fine family,” Naomi said with conviction. “Righteous and good-natured young people.”
Slowly William nodded his head. “Mary and Henry Coblentz. Uh, ja, I’m familiar with them indeed.” From his reaction, Fanny wondered if he didn’t know them well or if he merely was unimpressed with having met them at all.
“Such a shame you won’t be here tomorrow,” Miriam continued, oblivious. “They’re coming for a picnic. What fun it would be to have you meet with them, being old friends and all.”
Fanny pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at her cousin. She was mocking William and for what gain, Fanny didn’t know. Perhaps she found him far too provincial for her liking.
William made a noise, acknowledging what she said without stating what he thought. Apparently William knew enough to keep his mouth shut, a trait that Miriam clearly lacked. It wasn’t until an uncomfortable silence fell over the small group that Miriam finally realized what his lack of words meant: confirmation that he knew the Coblentzes and was, indeed, not dazzled by the acquaintance. Abruptly Miriam ceased her monologue about Henry and Mary, scowling at her cousin as if his dislike for the Coblentzes was a personal affront to herself.
Oh, Fanny thought, if only I could sit with William alone! She would have asked him why he didn’t seem to care for Henry or Mary or perhaps both of them. But, when Miriam finally excused herself, her headache conveniently reappearing, William and Elijah began talking as if they had known each other for a lifetime.