After taking a moment to make her bed, Nellie snatched up the lantern, carrying it down the long staircase, glad for the solitude of the hour. She considered Maryann’s emphatic remark—that the girl always knew, supposedly, when this night had arrived. She hadn’t had the slightest inkling, or had she somehow missed it at the last cider-making frolic?
More fully awake now, she began to worry that Caleb might have been disturbed by her letter. Put out, even.
But he’s here! What does it mean?
Tiptoeing across the kitchen floor, Nellie Mae hurried to the summer porch, eager to lead her beau to her room, where they would sit on the pretty loveseat, holding hands as he spoke tender words of love.
Nellie held the lantern high as she went to the back door, smiling her welcome. “Oh, Caleb . . . it’s so good to see you!”
“You, too, Nellie Mae.” He seemed surprised at her hair . . . first looking, then not looking. He rubbed his hands together, his cheeks rosy red, his eyes meeting hers.
“Come in and get warm,” she offered. “We can talk in my room, if you want.”
His face darkened, his eyes serious. “Nellie, I’m not here for that. . . .”
She felt her mouth drop. “All right,” she said.
He’s not going to ask me to marry him.
“We need to talk, Nellie Mae.”
She paused. “Where?” She glanced over her shoulder. The kitchen was vacant and dark.
“Best not be wakin’ up your Dat.” Caleb glanced at her again, and his gaze admiringly followed the length of her hair. “Can you bundle up and go ridin’? I brought some heavy lap robes . . . and some hot bricks.”
She forced a sad little smile. He waited for her to roll her hair into a makeshift bun so she could push it into her black winter bonnet. Then she donned her heaviest coat and other winter clothing, all the while her heart sinking.
What will he say?
They pulled out of the lane slowly, without speaking. Then, once they were out on the main road, Caleb began to talk. “I read your letter, Nellie.” He reached for her hand, but his glove felt stiff against her mittens. “Don’t you understand what this means . . . what you’re asking?”
She swallowed hard. “Jah, but the meeting was ever so interesting. Nothing like what I s’posed.”
“It’s foolishness, that’s what! Heresy—the things Preacher Manny’s teaching.” His voice was earnest, pleading.
She felt as if she might literally sink into the seat. She’d believed the same thing before reading Suzy’s diary, but now she did not wish to swiftly dismiss the teachings that had transformed her sister’s life. “But, Caleb, if you could just hear what I heard . . . if you could just help me understand.”
“I don’t need to go. I know what’s bein’ said.”
She sighed. “You’re judgin’ by what others say? Ach, the rumor mill will be the death of us.”
“Now, Nellie . . . love.”
She was torn between the submissive way she’d been taught to speak to a man, and what she felt she must say. “Won’t you hear Preacher Manny out, Caleb? Just this once?”
Once was all it took for Suzy.
He turned to face her, still holding her hand. “I woke you up tonight for a reason. I’m here to ask you to cling fast to the Old Ways.” His voice grew stronger, ringing through the darkness. “I trusted you when you said Suzy was a good girl, no matter the rumors, and I’ve pursued you knowin’ my Daed’s concerns. I stood up for you with my father, Nellie—told him you’re the kind of woman he should welcome as a daughter-in-law.”
She was silent. She had insisted to Caleb the rumors about Suzy were false, but that was before she’d discovered everything about her sister. “I told you the truth about Suzy,” she protested. “She wasn’t a wayward girl when she died . . . she was—”
“I want you to turn from this nonsense, Nellie. The sooner the better.”
“Have you closed up your mind . . . your heart, then?”
“My heart is for you, Nellie Mae. I want you to be my bride. Marry me next year, after baptism.”
Marry me?
The words she’d longed to hear, yet he’d spoken them in the midst of an argument. Even so, how could she refuse him? She couldn’t hold back the tears. “I love you, too, Caleb. Honest, I do. And I want to marry you . . . but . . .” She couldn’t go on.
“Jah, we love each other,” he replied. “That’s why I’m here, to protect you . . . to keep you from makin’ the biggest mistake of your life.”
“I’m not sure I see it that way.” She brushed away her tears. “Can’t you just go and hear for yourself?”
He shook his head. “I know what I believe.”
“Jah, tradition. Plain and simple.”
“I’m not goin’ to a silly meeting.”
“You’re diggin’ in your heels like an obstinate mule, Caleb Yoder.”
“Call me whatever you like, but it won’t change my mind.”
“Your ears are closed tight, ain’t so? You don’t want to know more than what we’ve always believed.” She sighed. “Well, I’d like to know if there’s more than that—if God’s own truth’s behind what Manny’s preaching.”
He let go of her hand and leaned forward, the reins draped over the lap robe. “Nellie, it all boils down to this: My father would disown me if I left the church for this newfangled whatever it is. I’d have no way to make a living . . . for us. I’d lose everything. The land, my immediate family. Daed’s respect.”
“Well . . . you’d have us. We’d find a way somehow. Love can win out, jah?” she offered tentatively, yet the words sounded hollow even to her. She touched his arm. “Your land’s mighty important, sure it is. But how can land mean more to you than our life together?” Her voice shook with both sadness and frustration.
“I could ask the same of you. How can my goin’ to a meeting mean more to you than my reputation with my father . . . or the life we planned?” He leaned back, regarding her, his eyes softer now. He turned then to stare straight ahead and was quiet for a good, long time. “I’ve heard you out, Nellie. Now I’ll say what I must. I’ve never cared for a girl like I do for you.” He looked at her again, the muscles of his face quivering. “I wish we hadn’t fought . . . honest to goodness.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
He drew her into his embrace. “I’m fearful, love. I’m afraid of what could become of us.”
“It’s not enough that we love each other?”
He closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. “I think I’d best take you home now.”
“Jah, ’tis best,” Nellie Mae agreed. Quarreling had gotten them nowhere.
CHAPTER 37
The wind rose up in the night, bringing with it freezing rain and snow. The wedding season was off to a bitter start.
Nellie gladly fulfilled her promise to Aunt Anna to help in the kitchen at the wedding she’d mentioned, filling up the week before it with as much work as daylight would allow. Neither her path nor her family’s crossed with Caleb’s at any of the all-day wedding celebrations Dat and Mamma chose to attend on the first Tuesday and Thursday, days set aside for weddings. For that she was truly sad.
She did see Caleb at the weekend cider-making frolic, his furtive gaze meeting hers. He seemed as willing to invite her to ride into the night as previously, but he did not care to hear her talk about the upcoming New Order youth gatherings. Already, a small group of youth had formed, thanks to the decision of many families to immediately accept the bishop’s offer. Nan had decided to attend tonight’s initial gathering, and for the first time, Nellie had found herself on her own, without any sisters at a frolic.
Nellie was aware of a small sorrow growing within as she wondered how she and Caleb could ever truly unite as man and wife when everyone around them seemed bent on division. She had been wholly honest with him and now must attempt to trust the Lord God for the outcome as Suzy might have. Yet she found herself increasingly given to silence, lest their relationship contin
ue to be strained. Truly, there was simply too much at stake.
Rosanna took care not to slip on the crusty ice along the sidewalk as she carried baby Rosie toward the waiting vehicle. Elias offered his free arm to her, cradling tiny Eli in the other.
“We’ve got ourselves a Mennonite taxi service.” He smiled at her.
“Jah, I see that.”
“I wanted their first ride home to be nice and warm for our son and daughter,” he added as they walked. “They seem a mite too fragile for this cold, if ya ask me.”
“The doctors said they’re both perfectly healthy—strong, too. Bet it won’t be long before you’re chasing after that son of ours.” Rosanna gave him a loving glance. “You must be mighty happy about your boy.”
“Well, I daresay I would’ve settled for two girls, seein’ that perty smile on your face just now, love.”
“Aw, Elias.” She didn’t let on that she’d nearly held her breath for Kate to birth a boy. “Thank the Good Lord.”
“Jah, you can say that again.”
The driver stepped out to assist them into the cozy van, and Rosanna carefully slid inside, next to her beaming husband. Leaning down to kiss Rosie’s rosebud face, Rosanna felt her heart fill with a love that went beyond any she had known . . . and was content.
On the first day of December, Nellie awakened to a landscape of white, the sky as colorless as the ground. The horse fence and every tree in sight—even the side of the barn—were completely covered with snow due to a blistering Nor’easter.
Nellie hurried to dress and ran downstairs to help Mamma and her sisters with breakfast.
“Just think, you get a day off from bakin’,” Mamma greeted her, smiling.
“I sure won’t be goin’ to work in this weather,” Rhoda said woefully.
“Oh, but the Kraybills will understand once they look out their windows,” Mamma said, trying to cheer her up.
“Jah, I’ll say. We’re downright snowbound,” Dat declared, and they all laughed at that, gathering around the table when it was time to eat.
During the meal of scrambled eggs, ham, and fruit, Nellie excused herself and scurried upstairs to retrieve Suzy’s diary. This is the perfect time, she thought, opening her drawer.
She turned the book to the page that had changed her thinking about Suzy. For sure and for certain, there were oodles of pages chronicling Suzy’s sins, but the joy lay in where her search had brought her.
Nellie returned to the kitchen and approached the head of the table. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Suzy believed like you do, Dat.”
Dat leaned forward, spilling his coffee.
“What?” Mamm gasped.
“It’s all here . . . in her diary. She wanted each of us to know the Lord she loved.”
Not trusting her voice, she handed the book to Dat where he sat. “Will ya read this page?” she whispered.
Dat’s eyes held hers in question. Appearing reassured that she was earnest, he nodded and began to read silently.
Nellie Mae returned to her spot at the table and sipped some orange juice. Watching his lips move, she could not keep her eyes off her father’s astonished face. Soon tears flowed down his cheeks.
Mamma frowned, looking at Nellie.
When Dat finished reading, he handed the diary to Mamma. His face radiated pure joy.
Mamma started to read, as well, and soon reached for Dat’s hand. “Suzy’s prayers were answered,” she said reverently. “Her faith . . . and God’s great mercy brought us to our knees, ain’t so, Reuben?”
Dat, who evidently still hadn’t quite found his voice, managed to whisper, “’Twas Suzy, all right . . . and our dear Lord.”
Then Nan asked to see the diary, followed by Rhoda. Nan’s eyes filled with tears, and Rhoda shook her head in wonder.
Mamma could hold back her happiness no longer. “Oh, glory be! Our Suzy’s safe . . . not lost forever as we’d supposed.”
“She’s with the Lord,” Dat said, blinking back tears.
They joined hands around the table as Dat thanked the living God “for this best news of all.”
Reuben left the kitchen the minute the meal was done and went to the barn to be alone with his thoughts. He moved in and around the horses, paying special attention to the young ones, all the while pondering the surprising revelation in Suzy’s diary.
He leaned down to stroke the mane of his favorite foal. “God was watchin’ over my little girl all those months,” he muttered as though talking directly to the colt. “Now, what do you think of that?”
Embracing the hush of the barn, Reuben walked to the back, facing north toward the vast whiteness of the pastureland concealed by heavy snow. In awe of the stark beauty, he thanked God for His care of Suzy. “I will not doubt you, O Lord . . . I know I can trust you to watch over all of my family,” he prayed. “Each and every one.”
Rosanna was as tired as she’d ever been after the first week home with the twins. She sat on the bed, brushing her long hair, talking with Elias about their babies—the holding, changing, bonding, and feeding—all of it precious to her. “Did ya ever think we’d be so busy?” she asked. “Some call it a double blessing ’cause we waited so long and got ourselves two.” She smiled at that.
When Elias didn’t respond, she looked over her shoulder. He was sound asleep, still wearing his choring clothes, his mouth hanging wide open. And he was lying on top of the quilt, of all things . . . holding Eli in his arms. The infant’s tiny face was peeking out of the handmade blanket, the pink side of the quilt out by mistake.
She tiptoed around the bed and stood there admiring this wonderful man who’d agreed to become a father to someone else’s children. Gently she covered him with a spare blanket before wandering out to the next room, a small sitting room where they’d placed the homemade cradles. Nice and close by . . .
Leaning over, she looked into the tiny peach-face of dear Rosie, who was in all truth both her cousin and her daughter, just as Eli was. The faint smiles during sleep, the smallest hands she’d ever seen, all curled up in tiny fists . . . the sweet, milky smell on their breath. . . . oh, how she loved them!
“You did this most wonderful thing for Elias and me, O Father in heaven. I couldn’t be more thankful,” she whispered.
She’d heard from Linda Fisher that Preacher Manny prayed as though he were talking to a friend face-to-face. Elias had no idea she’d spent any time with Nellie Mae’s cousin this past week since the babies’ release from the hospital. Linda was the sole reason Rosanna had kept up with the washing and the cooking—there were never enough hours in the day. Linda had encouraged her to read the Good Book, too, when she had a chance. “Start with the gospel of John,” she’d suggested.
Rosanna returned to the bedroom, thinking how odd it was that none of the nurses, nor the doctor in charge, had been aware that Kate’s babies were to become hers and Elias’s. She wondered if it had been kept mum for legal reasons.
After all, what were the laws of the world to them—two cousins in complete agreement, and with the bishop’s blessing, too? In the midst of folk leaving helter-skelter for a so-called new order, the bishop surely had wisdom from above . . . or so Rosanna hoped.
Immediately she felt distressed for having second-guessed the man of God. Bishop Joseph was the divine appointment for the People. Ach, for certain.
Presently she blew out the lantern and slipped quietly into bed so as not to waken either Elias or Eli. There were precious few hours before the babies would be crying for nourishment.
They’ll never be this small again, she thought, glad they were thriving in her care.
O dear Lord, help us bring these wee ones up in your grace and loving ways. And may we be ever mindful of your salvation, full and free. . . .
CHAPTER 38
The snow stayed on the ground for nearly a week, and then a Chinook wind blew in—a snow-eater, Dat liked to call it—to the surprise of everyone.
Nellie was in dire need of a brisk
walk, and since it was the afternoon of the Lord’s Day, there was nothing to keep her tethered home or to the shop. Feeling out of sorts and missing Caleb, she turned in the direction of White Horse Mill on Cambridge Road.
Our special place, she thought of the secluded area behind the old stone mill.
She didn’t know why she was struggling so, but since their disagreement, whenever she considered Caleb’s and her love, she felt a peculiar inner tug. She wished she could talk to someone, but no one knew how serious Caleb was about her. Or how much Nellie cared for him.
Truth was, she felt alone, and she found herself talking aloud, as if the air, or God, might have something to say on the subject. “Honestly, I know what I want . . . it’s Caleb for my husband. He says I’m the girl for him—the one he wants to marry, but how can that ever be?”
Since Caleb was the youngest son in his family, the land would normally fall to him; but if provoked, his father could easily decide to give Caleb’s bequest to his next-older son. She contemplated Caleb’s life without the land he longed for. He would be miserable . . . might even blame her for his loss of it.
The fluttering of a crow caught her attention, and she thought of Suzy, whose favorite bird had always been the reddish brown veery—a shy, even elusive bird often seen in the woodlands near their house. It flew far away in late September, but no one knew where it journeyed for the winter.
Just as none of us knew where Suzy was all those months she was running with Jay and his friends.
Nellie sometimes thought of going to search out Suzy’s Mennonite friends, as she assumed they were. She even wondered if talking with Zachary and Christian Yoder and the others who’d gone with Suzy to the lake might provide her with some final answers.
Looking about her, she realized she’d lost track of where she was. She spotted the wrought-iron bench where she and Caleb had sat and talked so many times and headed toward it.
Can our love survive the church split? she wondered, knowing there already had been a vast parting of the ways for so many. Thankfully her own family had suffered little in comparison to others—there would be no shunning to keep them from spending time with Ephram and Maryann and their children, and they could still visit with Uncle Bishop and the many people who would surely remain in the original church.
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