“Jah.” Mattie pushed her hair back out of her face.
“You should get ready for the day,” Mamm chided. “And put your kapp on.”
“I’m going to crawl back in bed and not get out forever,” Mattie muttered.
Mamm clucked her tongue but said nothing. They both knew she would not hide out in bed today or any day.
“I have to try one more time to persuade Mervin,” Mattie said, but she made no attempt to get up from the chair.
“I wouldn’t try,” Mamm said. “I don’t think Mervin’s one to change his mind, and we don’t have the food prepared anyway. Nor do we have a way of getting so much done so quickly. You already gave me too little time the way things were set up.”
“I want to be married on Thursday,” Mattie said, as if that settled the matter. “We have to get married on Thursday.”
Mamm gave Mattie a sharp glance. “You know that’s not true, so get a hold of yourself. At least you don’t have Mary’s heartache.”
The protest died on Mattie’s lips as lights from a buggy came into the Beilers’ driveway.
“Who would be coming this early in the morning?” Mamm asked.
Mattie rose to her feet, but Mamm sat her down with another sharp look. “You’re not going to the door looking like that. I told you to put up your hair.”
Mamm hurried off, and a moment later Mattie stood to peek out of the kitchen window. She caught her breath at the sight of Mervin’s buggy. Had her hopes been answered? Her head pounded. Why else would Mervin make the trip over to see her on a Sunday morning?
Mervin’s voice came from the direction of the front door, and Mattie rushed over to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway. Neither Mamm or Mervin were visible, but she could hear them outside on the porch.
“Mamm,” Mattie hollered. “I’m getting ready. I’ll be right there.”
She made a dash for the stairs. Halfway up, Mattie tripped on the stair step and caught herself with both hands. Her knee still crashed against the wood, and the pain shot all the way up her leg. Mattie got up and managed to hobble into the bedroom before anyone could look into the stairwell. Both Mamm and Mervin must have heard that loud noise.
Mattie flopped down on the bed and rocked with her knee in both hands until the pain subsided. What a fool she was. She couldn’t do anything right. Mervin surprised her with a Sunday morning visit, and all she could do was try to break her leg.
Mattie moaned and flexed the offended member. Everything seemed to work. A few sharp pangs ran through her knee, but she couldn’t change that. She tested the foot and it worked. With a hop she moved in front of the mirror and did her hair. The pins slipped into her kapp. One step at a time she made her way down the steps. Mervin met her when she limped out of the stairwell.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. “We heard an awful noise.”
“What happened?” Mamm called from the kitchen before Mattie could answer.
“I just slipped,” she muttered. “It’s nothing serious.”
Mervin didn’t appear convinced. He came over and went down on his knees in front of her. “Where?”
She pointed to her right knee.
His hands caressed the joint. “Nothing’s broken,” he said. “But I’m not a doctor.”
“I wouldn’t be walking if it was broken.” Mattie forced a laugh.
“You’d better baby that leg all day,” he said.
Mattie winced and placed pressure on the leg again.
“I can use help in the kitchen,” Mamm called out.
“Looks like no babying today,” Mattie told him.
He made a face. “I didn’t intend to be a burden this morning.”
“You’re never a burden,” Mattie assured him. “Are you…” She stopped. Of course Mervin wasn’t here to change the cancellation of their wedding date. He was here to comfort her, to coddle her for the day, and she had just given him the perfect excuse.
“I love you,” he mouthed the words.
Mattie squeezed his shoulder before she took cautious steps toward the kitchen. The tears sprung to her eyes, and Mervin noticed. She couldn’t help that anymore than she could help the slip on the stairs. So much of life was out of control right now.
Mattie worked in silence beside Mamm, while murmured voices rose in the living room behind them. Daed must be up. The front door slammed, and the men’s voices faded away. Mattie fried the eggs while Mamm did the bacon. Pancakes came after that, all without instruction or plans between the two of them. They seemed of the same mind this morning.
“It’s awful nice of him to come over this morning,” Mamm finally said.
Mattie nodded but didn’t reply.
The food steamed on the table when the men came in from their chores.
“Sit,” Mamm said, words were at a minimum this morning.
Daed and Mervin ate in silence, as if they had talked themselves out in the barn. Mervin’s plan wasn’t working too well. She felt worse now than before he had arrived.
After the prayer of thanksgiving, Mattie began to clear the table, and Mervin joined her. Mamm vanished into the living room without a protest.
“I’m sorry about all this,” Mervin ventured, the dish towel draped across his arm.
“We could—” Mattie choked on the words.
Mervin wiped away at the wet dishes. “The Lord is still with us,” he said. “Even if this week won’t be quite like we had planned.”
“Quite like we had planned!” The words exploded, and Mattie rushed on. “I won’t be your frau. That’s more than ‘not quite like we had planned.’”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Mervin told her. “My heart also hurts, and my hopes have also been dashed. I want you as my frau, Mattie. I want that in the worst way.”
“Then why aren’t we marrying this Thursday?” Mattie wailed.
“Mattie!” Mamm’s sharp rebuke came from the living room. “Control yourself.”
“That’s not a decent attitude to have,” Daed added.
Mattie ignored them.
Mervin’s face was pained. “My love for you has not changed, Mattie. I want only what is right.”
“And love is not right?” Mattie managed to keep her voice lowered this time.
“Love is always right,” Mervin said. “The time is just not right.”
Mattie sighed and continued to wash the dishes. They would get nowhere with this argument, and she wanted to enjoy her limited time with Mervin.
“I guess it was nice for you to come over this morning.” She gave him a crooked smile.
His pained look didn’t fade. “If I could see my way through to have the wedding this Thursday, believe me, Mattie, I would marry you this week. But—”
“Jah, I know,” she interrupted him. “Mamm already told me what the problems are with that arrangement, so let’s not speak of it anymore. Did you bring along your Sunday clothing?”
A slight grin filled his face. “You don’t think I’d venture forth on a Sunday morning without the proper clothing in my buggy.”
Mattie gave him a bright smile. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re decent and orderly, and you always do the right thing, which I don’t.”
Mervin sobered. “I don’t know about that, but I do know that you are sweet, and—”
“Stop it,” Mattie ordered. “I can only take so much.”
Mervin seemed to understand as they finished the dishes in silence. Daed led out in devotions afterward, and everyone changed clothing in preparation of the services. True to Mervin’s statement, he produced a paper bag from his buggy that contained his Sunday shoes and clothing, all neatly folded.
“You look quite handsome,” Mattie told him, once he had changed upstairs while she waited for him in the living room.
He only smiled and led the way out to his buggy. Mattie tried to keep up a light chatter and not think about what could have been as they traveled to Bishop Martin’s home.
“See you,” Mervin said
when he dropped her off at the end of the sidewalks.
Mattie gave him a little wave and limped into the washroom. She left her shawl there to greet the women lined up in the kitchen.
The services began right at nice o’clock and ended at five after twelve. The men spilled out on the front porch while the tables were set up for lunch. Mattie helped serve but didn’t eat until the last table was laid out. She felt no hunger, just a numbness that filled her whole body.
By three o’clock, all the tables were cleared, and the men had seated themselves out in the yard on the sunny side of the house. Mattie went in search of Lois but paused by the front window when an English automobile pulled in Bishop Martin’s driveway. Their neighbor Mr. Falks climbed out and approached the group of men. He began to speak with exaggerated hand motions.
Mattie stepped out on the porch to listen. She could hear his words clearly all the way across the yard.
“The Japanese bombed our fleet at Pearl Harbor this morning. That’s what I’m saying. In Hawaii! Our boats! Our ships! Our soldiers! The entire Pacific Fleet. It is war, men. War!” Mr. Falks’s voice rose even higher. “I’ll be expecting you people to do your part!”
“We will pray,” Bishop Martin said. “We will call a time of prayer and fasting tonight for your people and for ours.”
Mr. Falks waved his arms about again, but Mattie could no longer hear him. Her legs buckled under her, and she slid to the floor of the porch to lean against the house. There would be no wedding now. Not for years and years. The worst had come, and she was not married.
Chapter 9
Mervin harnessed Windy to the buggy on Monday morning and drove toward the town of Whitehorse. His face was grim. He had been up since well before dawn and hadn’t eaten after the Sunday noon meal yesterday. Bishop Martin had declared a district-wide fast last night. He could have made breakfast for himself, but he hadn’t.
Mervin jiggled the reins, and Windy increased his speed. He would see for himself what all this was about. He had never purchased newspapers before. He had no interest in newspapers or in the news they carried. He wanted only peace and a life lived in the fear of the Lord on his farm with Mattie—a wish that obviously wouldn’t happen for years now. Not with the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. He knew that, but he had to look fear in the eye, the same fear that had been on Mr. Falks’s face yesterday.
He had known only the sheltered life of the community. He knew nothing of war, or of bombs, or of guns that tore men’s lives away from this world. He had always made his decisions with the community’s strength around him, like a barn that gave shelter in the fiercest storm. All while the people in the English world were caught in a fight that could snatch their lives away at any moment. They faced death, while he didn’t. He didn’t fear death. He tried to fear the Lord and choose the right path, a path that had become rocky and steep to climb. He should have gone over to see Mattie last evening, to comfort her in this troubled time, but he hadn’t.
The thought troubled him all night. He had fallen asleep only to awaken again with a start. He could see Mattie’s face, her simplicity, her desire that they wed, and her fearlessness. Mattie hadn’t wanted to call off their wedding last year, and she had wanted to wed him before Christmas. He had told her the way was too difficult and the cost too high. He had pointed to Willis Stoll’s death and to his frau, Mary, left to walk the world without her husband. It would have been better if Willis and Mary had waited. Willis might still be alive.
But how did he know that? That’s what Mattie had asked. Willis would have been happy to see Mary that morning of the accident whether he was married to her or not. Willis’s fall could still have happened, and Mary wouldn’t have been Willis’s frau for the few weeks of time she had shared with him. Mattie would have reminded him of similar things last night, which was why he hadn’t visited. He had feared Mattie’s words.
So he was on his way to Whitehorse for an English newspaper. He had faced fears before, and he could face his own. Mattie wouldn’t marry anyone else while he was gone. That was not his fear.
He was afraid of himself. He feared his ability to handle the future with Mattie. That was why he repeatedly called off his wedding. If there had been only himself to worry about, he could handle that, but not with Mattie along for the journey. He had tried to override his fear with the joy that Mattie gave him. He had imagined the happiness he would feel when he held Mattie in his arms after they said the wedding vows. But how could that be right with such uncertainty in his heart? How could he accept pleasure while the years of sorrow stretched out in front of them?
Mattie had no answer for those questions. She spoke of love, and how love was enough, and how love was the answer, and how love could not be wrong. But how could love be right in the face of danger, especially when he wanted that love so badly? That was the question.
Mervin pulled back on the reins as he approached the small town. He pulled into the gas station and stopped by the picket fence in the back and let the reins hang. The young attendant looked up when he walked in. “Can I help you?”
Mervin pushed back his straw hat and pulled out his billfold. “Just the morning’s newspaper, please.”
The attendant motioned toward the front of the counter. “Help yourself. Are the Amish into the war, too?”
Mervin ignored the question. He didn’t want to explain himself.
The attendant shrugged. “That’s an awful thing that happened over there. We’ll never be the same again, I suppose. The country, I mean. You people…”
Mervin paid for the newspaper with a nickel.
“I suppose you won’t be signing up.” The attendant glanced at him as he gave Mervin two pennies back.
“We believe in peace and in the Lord’s strength,” Mervin told him.
The attendant squinted. “Seems like the rest of us do, too, and we still have to fight. Doesn’t seem right, does it? You people sitting things out comfortably on your farms while the rest of us rush off to die for the country.”
“Things won’t be easy for us,” Mervin said. “I…” He stopped. Nothing he had to say would compare to what this young man might face. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “Will you have to leave to fight?”
The nod was curt. “I’m signing up tomorrow. The country needs me.”
“I hope the Lord protects you,” Mervin said. “Are you leaving behind someone?”
A soft smile crept across the young attendant’s face. “We’ll be marrying before I go. I haven’t asked her yet, but I think she’ll say yes. I wouldn’t want to leave her unspoken for, you know. If I don’t come back, we’ll at least have been married. I think I’d rather go like that than to always wonder what could have been.”
“I hope she says yes.” Mervin held out his empty hand. “My name’s Mervin, and yours?”
“Wheelie.” He shook Mervin’s hand. “Thanks for asking.”
“And hers?” Mervin still hadn’t let go.
“Anthelia. Isn’t that a sweet name?”
Mervin smiled. “I’m sure she’s sweet, too. The best to you.” He turned to go.
“And how about you?” Wheelie’s voice stopped him.
“I’m not married,” Mervin said, as if that had been the question.
“Surely you have someone,” Wheelie insisted. “You’re handsome, and the Amish marry…”
“Thanks for the newspaper.” Mervin forced a laugh, and Wheelie joined in. He hurried out of the station without a glance back. Wheelie would think he was bashful instead of rude. Wheelie didn’t know that he was embarrassed. His explanation of why he didn’t plan to marry Mattie sounded empty and trite in the face of what Wheelie had told him. The man faced death and a girl who hadn’t expressed her willingness to wed him and might not accept the offer.
Mervin climbed back into his buggy and turned Windy around to head east on Route 340. He laid the newspaper on the seat. He didn’t look at it until he had pulled in the driveway of his small farm and p
arked beside the barn.
Mervin scanned the headlines: US ENTERS THE WAR. 1,500 DEAD. CONGRESS REACTS AT ONCE. ONLY ONE MEMBER OF CONGRESS VOTES AGAINST THE WAR. TOKYO CLAIMS VICTORY IN THE PACIFIC.
Mervin looked away. He didn’t need to read the details. This was a world he knew little about, but he could understand the words and hear the violence. War was where some men died and where other men were wounded and maimed and came home broken in heart and spirit. This victory would be won with blood and lives. With young men like Wheelie at the gas station, who loved even when that love was uncertain. Wheelie believed in things greater than himself. He had courage in the face of great danger. Wheelie had hope in the future, when death was the likely outcome. If Wheelie came home from the war, he would be forever changed, yet Wheelie wanted to leave a married man.
Mervin hung his head and turned the buggy around. He was shamed. There was no question about that. Windy shook his head in protest but sped up to a fast trot when Mervin jiggled the reins.
The familiar distance rolled under the buggy wheels, and Mervin kept a tight grip on the reins. His whole body was tense. He knew what he would say to Mattie, but he could never fully explain to her what he had felt at the gas station. Maybe he wouldn’t have to. Mattie was that kind of a woman. Her arms seemed always open to him even when she expected his usual cautiousness, his long waits, and his spoken fears. Mattie would expect nothing different with what had happened yesterday and with his absence from her home last night.
Windy neighed when Mervin pulled into the Beilers’ driveway. He stopped at the hitching post and jumped down with the tie rope in his hand. Mattie’s daed came out of the barn door while he tied up.
“Gut morning,” Lamar greeted him.
Mervin nodded.
“Mattie’s in the house,” Lamar said.
“I may be awhile,” Mervin told him. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I…Do you think it wise if…” Mervin took a deep breath. “I’ve not been the man I should have been, Lamar. I’m sorry.”
Lamar smiled. “I think you should wed my daughter, Mervin. The girl has been crying all night. You two should face the future together, as man and wife, even with the shocking news we received yesterday.”
A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection Page 31