The Forbidden

by Beverly Lewis

  He nodded slightly. “Seems winter’s got sharper teeth this year, jah?”

  She couldn’t remember such a long cold snap. “I daresay we’ll be eatin’ more of those baked goods ourselves if . . .” She didn’t finish. No need to say what Dat knew.

  It wasn’t merely the cold that kept folks away. Here lately they were seeing fewer of the families who held steadfast to the teachings of her father’s older brother, Bishop Joseph. Uncle Bishop Nellie had always called him—a term both of endearment and reverence. Though the bishop himself had instructed the People not to shun one another because of the church rift, the truth of the matter was clear in the dropping number of customers at Nellie’s Simple Sweets. Never had it been so quiet.

  Nellie wondered if she’d have to start working for worldly folk, as Rhoda did, upsetting her father even more. Doing so would bring in extra money and help make up the difference for the family in the long run, though it would further jeopardize her chances with Caleb.

  “Saw David Yoder’s girl over here,” Dat spoke up.

  Nellie nodded, unwilling to say anything.

  “Seems odd, ain’t?”

  “Jah.” She sensed his meaning.

  “We’ll reap what we sow . . . sooner or later.”

  She inhaled slowly. “ ’Spect so.”

  Dat winced openly. “It’s a new day in many ways, and there’s no tellin’ folk what to do. You and I both know that.”

  She said not a word, for she was unsure now what he was referring to. She suspected he might’ve had his ears filled with David Yoder’s disapproval of Preacher Manny’s teaching on “salvation through grace.” More than likely that was a big part of it.

  Sighing, she figured if Dat suspected Caleb’s father of keeping her and Caleb apart, he’d be all for encouraging them to continue courting. Dat was like that. When it came to love—the kind you married for—she was sure he would err on the side of the couple’s choice.

  “Like I said, people will embrace what they long for, Nellie Mae.”

  She caught the perceptive glint in her father’s eye. He knows I have a beau. . . .

  CHAPTER 2

  Rosanna King wasn’t surprised to see Kate Beiler around midmorning on Friday. Her cousin had been faithfully coming once a day to supplement the twins’ formula following their release from the hospital five weeks earlier.

  Kate liked to coo at the babies, kissing the tops of their fuzzy little heads. Since New Year’s, Rosanna had noticed Kate was visiting more often than simply to be a wet nurse. But today she looked tired, and Rosanna wondered if she might stay for only a short time.

  Making a beeline for tiny Eli, Kate picked him up from the playpen. “Ach, look at you.” She stroked his rosy cheek. “You’re catchin’ up to your sister, seems to me.” She held him out a ways, moving him up and down, as if weighing him in a scale of sorts.

  “He’s eating right good,” Rosanna spoke up.

  “Every four hours or so . . . like the nurse at the hospital said?”

  “Jah, and if one baby doesn’t awaken and cry for nourishment, the other does, and soon they’re both up. They’re well fed, I’d say.”

  Kate turned back to Eli, who was bundled in one of the crocheted blankets Rosanna had made.

  Meanwhile Rosanna reached for Rosie, whose soft fists were moving for her open mouth. “You need some love, too, jah?” Cuddling Eli’s twin, she walked the length of the kitchen, pondering her feelings. Why was it every time Kate arrived, she felt like declaring, “The babies are mine, too”?

  Lest her brooding show on her face, Rosanna sat down at the table and smiled down at Rosie. It was clearly time for the babies’ feeding, and she ought to be glad for the break in the near-endless bottle-feeding routine. There were instances when she had to resort to propping up a bottle for one twin while holding the other. When that happened, she’d burp the one before switching babies for the second half of the four ounces of formula.

  Helpful as Elias tried to be, her dear husband obviously had more on his mind than assisting with the twins, although it was plain he was partial to baby Eli.

  Truly, Rosanna was getting plenty of motherhood training with her double blessings, both of them precious gifts from the Lord. She glanced over at Kate, still cradling little Eli in her arms, and pushed away the peculiar thoughts that beset her today.

  No need to worry. . . .

  She lifted Rosie to her face, burrowing her nose into her warm, sweet neck. “You ready for somethin’ to eat?” she whispered, loving the smell, the feel of her.

  “You go ahead and take care of Rosie while I tend to Eli here,” Kate directed. “Not sure I’m up to feeding them both today.”

  Rosanna felt some surprise at this, though she knew it was time for Kate to be done nursing the twins altogether.

  In all truth, she had been looking forward to this day.

  Eli let out a howl and Kate began to undo the bodice of her cape dress. “Mamma’s here,” she muttered, never looking Rosanna’s way as she offered her breast.

  Rosanna’s heart caught in her throat. Maybe Kate’s not the best choice for a wet nurse.

  Now Rosie was rutsching, nuzzling for nourishment in earnest. Put out with Kate for her comment to Eli and for always placing his needs before Rosie’s, Rosanna stood to warm her daughter’s bottle, swaying back and forth and making soothing sounds as she did so.

  She recalled Kate’s unexpected decision to nurse the twins after their birth. Kate had never conferred with her cousin about this, though Rosanna had assumed she wanted to give the premature babies a good start. Despite her intentions, the recovering Kate hadn’t had enough milk to keep up with the minimum six feedings a day per baby, so after a week, she’d nursed each of them only once daily, returning to the hospital for the feedings after being discharged herself. With the debt of gratitude Rosanna felt she owed her cousin, she had been quickly persuaded that Kate should continue to supplement the babies’ formula until they were two months old. What she hadn’t realized was how awkward the arrangement would be. For both of us, probably.

  As she nursed Eli, Kate cooed softly. Then she addressed Rosanna from over her shoulder. “I hear your husband’s been spending a lot of time with Reuben Fisher.”

  “Jah, Reuben—and others—have been a big help to Elias.”

  “No, I don’t mean helpin’ round the farm.” Kate frowned. “Your Elias and Reuben are talkin’ Scripture, that’s what.”

  For the life of her, Rosanna did not recall Elias mentioning any such discussions with Reuben Fisher or anyone else, although Nellie Mae’s father often assisted her husband in mixing feed and unloading it from the silo. “Are ya sure ’bout this, Kate?”

  “Well now, I wouldn’t make it up.”

  Suddenly she felt all done in. “Who Elias chooses to work with ain’t my business.”

  Or yours . . .

  Kate’s eyes widened. “You must not understand. I meant—”

  Nodding, Rosanna softened her tone. “Well, I believe I do.”

  “You’re sayin’ you don’t mind if Elias is listenin’ to wrongful teaching?”

  “If the bishop’s not troubled by it, then who are we to—”

  “No!” Kate shook her head. She removed Eli from her breast and put him on her shoulder, rubbing his back. “Flash conversions, Rosanna . . . that’s what’s going on here. Folk are getting emotionally caught up, talking ’bout prideful things like a close relationship with God. It ain’t right.”

  Secretly Rosanna hoped her husband was drawn to the teachings she’d been hearing herself from Linda Fisher. To her, they seemed wonderful-good—not wrongful at all.

  Without saying more, she carried Rosie to the rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen, putting some distance between herself and Kate. Rosie lurched forward when presented with the bottle, and Rosanna enjoyed her nearness as she rocked gently, caressing the baby’s downy soft hair.

  Watching Rosie, she wondered if there was a way to bri
ng milk into her own breasts. She’d heard of it, though perhaps it amounted to an old wives’ tale—or something requiring a Lancaster doctor, maybe. What would it take?

  Kate’s voice startled her. “Don’t fool yourself about the bishop, cousin. He’s mighty troubled . . . yet bein’ ever so lenient where Manny and Reuben—well, the whole lot of them—are concerned.” Kate coaxed a resounding burp from Eli, then another, and promptly put him on her other breast. “You must not be keepin’ up with things.”

  I’m too busy for the grapevine. If there was something Elias wanted her to be aware of, Rosanna knew he’d tell her come nightfall, when he was so dear to her once the twins were settled into their cradles. Elias was like that, always eager to share with her the things on his mind while they nestled in each other’s arms. Eager in other ways, too.

  Nellie Mae took care to redd up the bakery shop following a not-so-busy Friday afternoon—less than a handful of customers the whole day. She counted the money and placed it in her pocket, thinking she’d like to slip away to the millpond behind the old White Horse Mill to ice skate. She and Caleb had gone there twice as a courting couple, so perhaps she might catch at least a glimpse of him. She hadn’t forgotten seeing him the last time she’d been there—most surprising and ever so nice, till they’d had to say good-bye.

  Earlier she’d run to the mailbox, as she had every day for the past few weeks, hoping for a letter. Caleb could easily write her without anyone’s knowing if he just left off the return address.

  Unless he’s ill.

  The thought had not crossed her mind before now, although she hadn’t seen Caleb at any of the youth gatherings associated with Christmas. She hadn’t seen him in church on the Sunday two days before Christmas, either, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there. The house of worship—Deacon Lapp’s farmhouse—was so packed full of folk she might simply have missed him.

  “Maybe Caleb is under the weather.” She knew of several families who’d suffered from the flu in the past days.

  Glancing around the bakery shop, she eyed the area where she envisioned putting the tables and chairs. If customers could linger and talk, they might purchase more goodies.

  She wondered if she shouldn’t add sandwiches or homemade soups to the selection of items printed on the small blackboard on the wall behind the counter. But with the nix on their family by many devoted to the Old Ways now that Dat and Mamma and her sisters were attending the new church, Nellie might not get to realize her hopes of that. Besides, most folk wanted to eat next to their own fireplace on a bitterly cold day. Who could blame them?

  She turned off the portable gas heater and headed for the door. Leaning into the wind, she picked her way across the snow-covered ground, aware that a substantial amount of ice lay beneath. Friday nights were skating nights at the millpond. If she could just get out of washing dishes later, she would bundle up and go.

  With renewed anticipation, Nellie Mae stepped into the house and removed her boots, coat, and scarf. She fairly flung off her mittens, suppressing her giggles as she sent them flying across the summer porch.

  If Caleb and I can bump into each other once, why not again?

  Delighted at the prospect, Nellie made her way into the warm kitchen for supper.

  CHAPTER 3

  Nellie’s muscles were already stiff from the biting cold, yet she pushed onward. When she rounded the bend on Cambridge Road, she spotted Rebekah Yoder and several of her sisters there. Her heart leapt.

  If they’re here, surely Caleb is, too.

  Merrily she dashed across the snowy banks along the millpond, near the area where she and Caleb had once walked hand in hand. She had never been afraid of the ice, not even in late winter when the pond would begin to thaw in places. She’d always assumed she’d have more sense than to fall in.

  Thinking suddenly of Suzy, Nellie realized she hadn’t followed through with her hope to find out more about what had happened the day her sister had drowned. Even though the busy days of Christmas had come and gone, she’d had no desire to go in search of Zach and Christian Yoder, two Mennonite brothers who had befriended Suzy. Nevertheless, she was still quite curious to talk to anyone who’d been with her sister on that terrible June day.

  Pushing that sad thought aside, she took note of the dozen or more young people presently skating and continued to look for Caleb as she put on her skates. She dared not ask Rebekah or her sisters about him. She would mind her own business and glide out onto the large pond to skate.

  The first star of the evening appeared like a pulsing dot of white light. Nellie was so taken with the icy splendor around her, she scarcely even saw Susannah Lapp until she nearly collided with her. Susannah squealed and narrowly missed falling, and Nellie skated hard to the right, trying to maintain her balance.

  Ach, not her!

  Quickly she chided herself. No reason to view Susan-nah as a threat any longer. Caleb’s father is my greatest fear now.

  Nellie made another pass around the pond, this time carefully skirting the others. But the longer Nellie stayed, the colder she would be by the time she departed for home. Again she pondered Caleb’s whereabouts, and a little panic flitted through her mind: Surely he was not avoiding her.

  Still she remained, determined to be on hand in case he happened to arrive late. After all, it was a perfect night for skating, and no doubt he would think so, too. The ice was hard and slick, its formerly rough surface swept smooth by the wind.

  A night meant for a girl and her beau . . .

  She was gaining speed again, waving and smiling at Rebekah Yoder, when she thought she saw someone standing dark and rigid against the trees on the banks of the millpond, across the way. Was it Caleb?

  Not wanting to stare, Nellie forced herself onward, heart pounding with anticipation.

  Elias didn’t mention Reuben Fisher at all while Rosanna lay in the crook of his arm. She waited and wondered as she thought back to the peculiar things Cousin Kate had voiced with such conviction. Were they true?

  Elias did have something interesting to talk about between kisses. Maryann Fisher, who lived across the way with her husband, Ephram, had been home alone when her labor pangs began. Elias had stopped by to deliver some tools for Ephram, who’d gone to the town of Cains on an errand.

  “Honestly, I thought I might have to help deliver Mary-ann’s baby while her four young ones looked on.”

  “Oh, Elias . . . what on earth?”

  “Well, I was able to send the oldest boy up the road to the community phone booth—thank the Good Lord for that—and the midwife came just in time.”

  Rosanna shook her head. “Poor Maryann, she must have been terribly frightened.”

  “On the contrary . . . said she’d be fine if I would watch her littlest ones, Katie and Becky.”

  Rosanna couldn’t help but giggle. “You must be countin’ your blessings ’bout now.”

  He chuckled. “S’posin’ if I can deliver calves, I can help bring a baby into the world.” He paused, pulling her closer. “But watching them toddlers of Maryann’s and keepin’ them out of trouble . . . now, that’s another story yet.”

  Rosanna smiled up at Elias, who quit his laughing and looked at her with a familiar glint of yearning. “Let’s not be talkin’ of Ephram’s new baby, love,” he said softly, his face very near.

  Let’s not talk at all. She wrapped her arms around his neck, impatient for more of his kisses.

  The shadowy figure was a man, but not one young enough to be Caleb, Nellie decided as she cast another furtive glance. He inched his way toward the pond, and she could not tell if he was watching any skater in particular. Even so, the man was clearly observing them, and his presence made her uneasy.

  Who is it?

  She wondered if other skaters had noticed the man. It was obvious from his appearance he was Amish. Otherwise, Nellie would have been even more concerned.

  She sped twice more around the pond before stopping to wait for Rebekah on the
side nearest the trees. When Rebekah spotted her and waved, heading that way, Nellie motioned her over. “Don’t look now, but there’s a man standing there . . . watching us.”

  Rebekah dug in the blades of her skates, spraying ice as she came to a stop. “Oh jah, I know.” She laughed softly. “It’s my father, come to take us home . . . when we’re ready.”

  Nellie felt silly. “Seeing a man there scared me.” She paused. “Well, just a little.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Rebekah acted a bit sheepish. “He’s overseein’ us, I’m guessin’.”

  Giving a quick squeeze of her hand, Rebekah headed off around the pond again, catching up with her sisters.

  Nellie Mae was now so cold her toes were numb. I should head home. She clumped to the bank, where she leaned against a tree to remove her skates, wishing for the wrought-iron bench where she and Caleb had sat and talked, his strong arms around her when she began to shiver.

  But the bench was on the other side of the millstream, and she dared not try and climb down to it, not when her feet felt like clubs. She wondered if her toes were frostbitten and attempted to wiggle them beneath her thick socks as she worked on her snow boots. Then she took the long way around the stream to a footbridge, moving toward the road.

  Forcing her feet forward, she looked up at the sky and at the many stars of the Milky Way, pondering the fact that while a good many of Caleb’s family were present this night, he was nowhere in sight.

  Squeezing her eyes tight, she fought back tears. I miss you so much, Caleb.

  After a time, she heard the clip-clop of a horse and buggy slowing down behind her.

  “Nellie Mae!” Rebekah Yoder called. “Come, get in the buggy with us.”

  Fatigued, she had not the strength, nor the gumption, to refuse. She turned and hobbled to the carriage. “Denki, ever so much.”

  “Ach, Nellie, you’re limping.” Rebekah helped her inside.

  “Did you hurt your foot skating?” one of Rebekah’s sisters asked from the back as Nellie settled into the front seat next to Rebekah.