Abram was awake and had just come back from the outhouse, the light from the moon’s reflection on the snow nearly blinding his tired eyes. Making his way up the stairs, he heard the sound of sniffling coming from the bedroom shared by Sadie and Leah.
Not pausing in the least, he headed straight to his and Ida’s room, settling into bed next to his wife. He was awful sure it was Leah who was crying. Jah, it was Leah. But why?
He felt sudden wrenching guilt at what he’d gone and done just this afternoon, using a pay telephone in Strasburg to set a life-changing deed in motion. Of course, there was no way in the world Leah could know just yet, not this soon, that he’d placed a call to Fannie Mast’s married cousin out in Ohio. Seemed easy enough when all was said and done. Jonas Mast would be getting a letter, being offered a job as a carpenter’s apprentice in Holmes County.
If Leah ever found out what Abram had done, she’d be more than angry, beside herself with grief, which is how she sounded just now. But Fannie’s cousin had vowed that no one would be told of his and Abram’s quiet conversation this day.
So Abram let his thoughts drift toward sleep, knowing he’d stuck his neck out, more certain than ever of his choice of a mate for his most precious Leah.
It was pitch black in the haymow. Leah crept up the long ladder and hid herself away in the depths of the night while Sadie—expectant, unmarried mother—slept back in the house. As sisters, they had held each other till Leah slipped away, needing to be alone with her thoughts.
Fraught with worry, she sat there in the corner, where hay was stacked in even rectangular shapes, where only the sound of a mule’s sighing broke the stillness. One of a half dozen barn cats found her and curled up in her lap.
It’s all my fault—this horrid mess Sadie’s in. I should’ve told on her while there was still time to save her purity. If only I’d known. . . .
Leah knew for sure . . . if she could simply turn back time, ach, she’d do it in a second—promptly run and tell Dat that her sister was in danger of hellfire.
Chapter Twenty-Three
March 1, 1947
It’s not so hard to believe that I’ve been writing in my new diary for two full months now. Mamma sometimes will glance into my bedroom through my open door, looking at me with a peculiar grin and see me writing away so fast in my little book. She mustn’t worry that I’m practicing my hand at being a writer, trying to develop individuality, so opposed by the bishop. That’s best done with my embroidery, if I must reach for creativity at all. Mamma doesn’t have to worry over me, not like she’ll have to with Mary Ruth after eighth grade, come next year.
Won’t be much longer and we’ll see if Mamma’s baby is our sister or brother. I must admit, I won’t begin to know what to do with a little brother. After four girls in the house . . . just how would that be?
Mamma’s constantly happy these days. Dat’s the one out of sorts more than ever before. And Leah is, too. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into my older sisters. The eldest is so pleasant to me—and to Mary Ruth. Sadie has made a change in herself, I should say, now that she’s through with rum-schpringe. It’s Leah who’s so awful glum. Just how could they switch places like that?
But I’m thinking that Jonas will make Leah a right nice husband. He’s over here visiting on Saturday nights, and I’m sure he’s the boy bringing Leah home from the singings every other Sunday. He loves her a lot. I can see it in his eyes, before we get shooed out of the kitchen come nightfall. Mary Ruth and I hope Leah won’t go getting married next autumn, like we suspect she might. Why? Well, it would be nice to have our happy little house snug with all four sisters staying put for a while yet. Of course, with a new little sibling coming along soon, things might just be a bit topsy-turvy anyways.
That’s all for now.
Hannah Ebersol
Mary Ruth waited after school to chat with the teacher at the Georgetown School. “I’m wondering if I might get some extra assignments?” she asked. “I’m fascinated with mathematics.”
“Well, let’s see what I can do, Miss Ebersol.” Flipping through her large math textbook, Miss Riehl found many pages of math problems. “Here . . . why don’t you copy these down and work them at home?”
“Thank you ever so much!”
“I’ll check your work when you’re finished.”
“I’ll do them tonight,” she promised.
“No need to hurry.” The teacher sat down behind her desk.
“Oh, but there is.” And Mary Ruth began to explain her goals for the future, pouring out her heart about her hope of becoming a schoolteacher someday. “But . . . please, will you keep this between us?”
Miss Riehl’s face shone. She seemed to understand. “I’ll help you all I can, Mary Ruth.”
Saying thank-you yet again, Mary Ruth hurried to the door where Hannah was waiting. Together they walked to the small parking lot, watching for their ride.
“Well, didja do it?” Hannah asked, eyes smiling.
“You’ll never believe how much extra work Miss Riehl gave me!”
“I’m so happy for you.”
The girls exchanged tender glances. “I don’t know how I’d manage sometimes if I didn’t have you to share with,” Mary Ruth told her twin.
Hannah nodded. “Will we always have each other?”
Mary Ruth heard her sister’s sad desperation. The question came deep from Hannah’s heart, from a girl who most likely would settle into the community of the People, never inquisitive about the outside world, while her twin sought to gain as much knowledge as her brain could hold.
The day the Ohio letter arrived in the Mast mailbox, Jonas was driving down their lane in the enclosed family buggy, running an errand over to Bart. He’d thought of simply bypassing the mail, letting one of his sisters come fetch it for Mamma . . . but stopping, he hurried to see just what might be in store for the family on this snowy end-of-March day.
Flipping through the mail, he noticed several from Willow Street and one from Ninepoints, notes from girl cousins and friends of Rebekah and Katie, probably, since his sisters enjoyed writing letters the most. Except for Mamma, who’d been writing a lot here lately, she’d told him, to Ida Ebersol—his future mother-in-law. Mamma had said just recently that the two families were getting much closer “just since the last get-together back in August.” Well, he couldn’t agree more, especially if Mamma and Dat had any idea just how many trips a month he made over to Gobbler’s Knob to see his Leah.
The envelope that made him stand straighter, take notice, was one addressed to him, the postmark being from Millersburg, Ohio. “Who lives clear out there?” he muttered to himself, hurrying back to the carriage to get out of the cold.
Once inside, he closed the buggy door and scanned the contents, which revealed, to his great surprise, an invitation from his mother’s cousin, David Mellinger, an expert carpenter. And . . . of all things, Jonas was being asked to consider coming there and working for David “till your pop’s apples are ready for picking early next fall.”
Six months away from home?
Instantly, his first thoughts were of Leah, how much he’d miss her for that long a time. What might his leaving do to their plans to take the required baptism instruction before the fall wedding season? He hated to think of telling Leah of this opportunity. Not that it wasn’t one of the best kinds of offers a young man his age could receive from a seasoned carpenter and all. The very thing he’d always dreamed of doing!
But this letter coming now . . . well, it was just so untimely. Still, he couldn’t dismiss Cousin David’s invitation. He mulled over the ins and outs of such an adventure all the rest of the day.
Smithy Gid was well aware of the warm April morning “Sisters’ Day” frolic happening at the house. Mam had invited all the Ebersol women, as well as their aunt Lizzie, over for a Saturday of making rag rugs. Adah and Dorcas had talked excitedly about the idea of doing such a thing for the past week, then last evening at the supper table
had gently encouraged both him and Dat to “make yourselves scarce,” the girls giggling too much at the remark for his liking.
But he’d followed their wishes, taking great pains not to go near the house after breakfast, tending to Fritzi and her second batch of pedigree pups, now three weeks old. He fed grain to the four Black Angus he and Dat were fattening for the butcher here in the next few weeks, then offered to help his father in the blacksmith shop. But Dat seemed preoccupied, saying he didn’t need a hand. Not today, at least, which was downright peculiar, seeing as how Dat was always in need of something when it came to shoeing so many driving horses in the Plain community.
By Gid’s calculations, his German shepherd pups were close to being weaned, in which case he could start contacting the folk who’d agreed to purchase at least five of the litter. The other two, well, he hadn’t decided if he ought to advertise for them or not. He liked to amuse himself by thinking what Leah might do or say if he offered the gentlest one, with the pertiest markings, to her as a present, for no particular reason. He knew better than to step out of bounds with Leah Ebersol, but with word that Jonas Mast might possibly be heading out to Ohio for a time, working as a carpenter’s apprentice . . . well, now, this news had surely come out of nowhere.
When he’d asked his father about it, the only thing said was “Don’t know much of this, son. But . . . let’s just see what comes of it.” So it sounded like maybe Dat did know something, though Gid wasn’t in the habit of questioning his father, even if only in his thoughts.
Leah felt ever so dismal. Her sister’s words kept on ringing in her ears, even though now it had been nearly two months since Sadie’s shocking revelation. She wished she’d never promised to keep quiet about Sadie and her English beau. Never!
Although Leah and Jonas shared most everything, Leah continued to keep her sister’s secret from him. And from Dat and Mamma, too. Only once had she come close to sharing it with Aunt Lizzie, but she’d thought better of it, feeling it was Sadie’s place to do so. Besides, there was nothing anyone could do.
Sadie would have to be the one to tell their parents, and perty soon, because she wouldn’t be able to keep it from them forever. Leah had seen her sister’s body slowly changing, especially in the soft glow of the oil lamp, when they dressed for bed at night.
Sighing, she laid down her scissors and left scraps of old fabric in a big basket on the floor. Excusing herself, she felt it was all right to go outside alone to the Peacheys’ outhouse, though she might’ve asked Sadie or the twins to come along. It wasn’t that she hoped to run into Gid on the way. She had no such thing in her mind, yet there he was over in the barn . . . stroking one of the new puppies in the whelping box. Quickly she turned her head and walked even more swiftly toward her destination.
Honestly, she felt almost sad for Gid these days—most all the time, really, clear back since her first singing that night in October. She wished he’d find himself a nice girl to court. After all, he was a right fine-looking fella himself, with a heart as pure as gold, Dat had always said. Far as she could tell, there had never been any reason to doubt it.
So when he called to her, after her return from the little house out near the barn, she turned and smiled, wondering what he had to say. “Leah, I’ve been thinking. . . .” Then he stopped and said no more, just held up a small dog with a reddish fawn coat with black overlay . . . sweet brown eyes and an almost curious smile. “Would you like to have him? He’s yours for the taking.”
“Oh, but I wouldn’t think of—”
“No . . . no, I mean to say he’s a gift. From one neighbor friend to another.”
Gid’s smile was so boyish just now. So eager to please her, he was. “I’m sure it’s all right with your parents. Besides, I’m thinkin’ you could use a gut watchdog over there.”
With that, they both looked past the Peachey pastureland to the Ebersol Cottage, gazing on it from afar. Then Gid broke the silence. “If you’re not so sure, why not ask your dat . . . see what he says?”
She couldn’t argue with that. Then, reaching up, she touched the young pup in Gid’s arms, and suddenly the dog began to lick her hand with his little pink tongue. “Oh, that tickles,” she caught herself saying. “He’s ever so cute.”
“Well, now, I think he likes ya, Leah.”
She had to laugh. “I think he does, too.”
“I’d keep him for you. Then if or when you should decide to take him home, I’d be more ’n happy to bring him over.”
“Aw, that’s ever so nice of you. Denki.” She hurried back to the house. A bright face like Gid’s had cheered her up just a bit. She was sure his motives were honorable, though he would’ve had to be deaf not to have heard that Jonas was leaving for Ohio here right quick.
She’d been brave the night Jonas had shared this “rare opportunity” with her. Seeing his eyes light up at the makings of a dream come true, yet hearing the sadness in his voice, Leah knew she could not shed a tear in front of him. She had even wondered aloud if there was any way she might go along—maybe tend to an elderly relative or whatnot, so they could continue their courtship in person instead of by letter. Then, when the time came, they could return home and marry in the fall as planned.
She’d just have to trust the Good Lord—they both would—for the answers.
“I’ll be back before the apple harvest next fall,” he promised.
But when she’d shared this with Sadie, her sister said she ought not to count on such a pledge. “Best not to let him go at all,” Sadie said. “If Jonas leaves, he might never return home. Remember Abe Yoder? He left poor Malinda for the lure of land in Ohio.”
Sadie’s words made Leah’s heart ache. “I wouldn’t think of speakin’ up to Jonas like that. He has a right good head on his shoulders.”
“Well, you might want to think twice ’bout keeping mum. At least tell him how much you’ll miss him . . . let him know you’ll pine for him.”
Ach, she felt she knew her beloved, and if Jonas said he was going to come home before the harvest, then he would. For sure and for certain. And she’d told Sadie so. “You don’t know my Jonas the way I do,” she’d insisted.
By Leah’s response and the heart-melting smile on her face, Smithy Gid was almost positive his gift offer—from his hand and heart to hers—had been an excellent idea, after all. So he wasn’t one bit sorry about his impulsive deed, Jonas Mast aside. Leah was, after all, his longtime neighbor and childhood friend. If she chose to marry Jonas, well then, so be it.
Still, Gid had his hopes up that she might, at least, take the pick of Fritzi’s litter and give the pup a home. Who knows, maybe a fond pet would be the start of something special between Leah and him. Then again, maybe not.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Abram was beside himself, downright befuddled. Jonas Mast had insisted on having a private meeting with him out in the barn after seeing Leah home rather early after the singing. The boy began by explaining some carefully thought out plans, it seemed . . . about his hopes to find a place for Leah to live and work near David Mellinger’s home in Millersburg, Ohio. “I’m workin’ on it and will have some answers in the next few days,” Jonas said. “What would you think of that?”
Well, Abram wondered just what Jonas was afraid of—did Jonas honestly think Leah might start seeing someone else, maybe, if she stayed home on Gobbler’s Knob? But no, when he quizzed the boy, Jonas said something about not wanting to go so long without seeing “my dear Leah.”
“Well, then there’s always letters, like anyone else in your situation,” Abram advised. But deep down, he was shocked at Jonas’s strong reluctance to leave Leah behind.
“I truly love her,” Jonas confessed, eyes shining. “She’s everything I live for. Leah’s my dearest friend, too.”
Nodding, Abram understood how a young man could be smitten over Leah, sweet and gentle soul that she was. Still, he decided on the spot that his daughter was not going to Ohio. No matter what, she was stay
ing put right here. Smithy Gid must have his chance to woo and possibly court Leah, too. Then, the way Abram saw things, his dear girl could make a choice between the two of them. And that was all he hoped to accomplish by Jonas’s going away. Nothing more.
He tipped his straw hat as Jonas turned and left the barn, the boy full of hopes and dreams, obviously in love. It wasn’t in Abram’s thinking to wound him, no . . . not at all. But he knew in his heart of hearts he was altogether right about Smithy Gid and Leah. They must have their chance.
After the dishes were washed, dried, and put away that night, Sadie accompanied Dawdi John back to his side of the house, especially glad to go with him by herself. She hoped for yet another quiet evening with the wise older man.
Dawdi John was sure to give her a listening ear, and she was mighty glad to be here with him, away from the exciting talk next door, where Mamma, Leah, and the twins were still chattering about the Sisters’ Day they’d enjoyed over at Miriam Peachey’s. Leah was mostly interested in talking about a puppy dog Smithy Gid wanted to give her, “for the whole family, though,” Leah was quick to say. “Go right on over there tomorrow and say you’ll take the dog,” Dat had said, wondering aloud why Leah had bothered to ask him, anyway.
So the whole family—the girls, especially—were beside themselves with glee, anticipating the arrival of Fritzi’s perty little pup. Sadie could just hear it now—they’d be tossing round names for dogs for the next two hours or so till bedtime.
Once Dawdi was settled in his small front room, and Sadie had a nice fire blazing in the hearth, she asked him, “Dawdi, have you ever done something you were so ashamed of, you just couldn’t bring yourself to confess to anyone?”
The Covenant Page 21