Secret, The

Home > Other > Secret, The > Page 14
Secret, The Page 14

by Beverly Lewis


  Gut, thought Grace, wanting to provide a delicious dinner for her father and brothers. “Be sure and invite Dawdi and Mammi over to eat with us, too,” Grace told Mandy. She’d kept a watchful eye on her sister all morning.

  It helps to have Mamma’s sisters here, she thought.

  “We’ll have us a feast,” Mandy said, offering a brief smile at Grace, who began to shape the meatballs.

  A dinner without our mother . . .

  She wondered if Mamma was safe and sound. Everything felt so strange and out of whack without her. Grace supposed they’d feel this way for as long as Mamma was gone from them, however long that might be.

  chapter

  eighteen

  Every decorative plate and each of Mamma’s teacups and saucers had been washed and dried and put back in their exact locations on the sideboard and china hutch. The furniture was polished to a sheen, and overall the house was spotless . . . gleaming from the rafters down to the smallest corner. Their abode was well prepared to become the temporary house of worship on Sunday. Now all Grace needed were cold cuts and freshly baked bread to serve two hundred souls—that and the benches and the old hymnals the bench wagon would bring tomorrow evening.

  Grace had been particularly grateful for the extra cleaning help earlier, and although presently it was a bit chilly outdoors, she pulled on a sweater and went to sit on the front porch swing. There, sitting where Mamma had sat three evenings ago, she waited for Adam to finish up his after-supper chores.

  She could easily have gone to see Becky, but she wanted to talk with her brother first. Mandy was much too upset to attempt any sort of meaningful communication, on the verge of tears much of the time. Grace had offered understanding to her sensitive sister—all of them had. It was hard to see Mandy cry.

  All day Lavina and Mary Beth had carried their dread and disbelief in their eyes, the color nearly all washed out. Yet they’d worked as hard as they had every other time before Preaching service here. By now they would have surely whispered their worries to their husbands at home and possibly their older children, who, in turn, would tell others. Soon, all of Bird-inHand would hear of Lettie Byler’s departure. And there was very little, if anything, Grace could do about it.

  “Hullo there, sis.”

  She jumped, startled out of her reverie, and turned to see Adam draping his long arms over the porch railing.

  “Ach, you must be ready, then?” She felt relieved to see him, knowing she could fully share her heart.

  He nodded. “We’d better get goin’ before I’m too tired to put one foot in front of the other. These nights of lambin’ are catching up with me.”

  She rose and hurried down the porch steps to the lawn. “Where should we walk?”

  He paused to deliberate, then suggested, “Let’s take Sassy instead and go for a root beer.”

  “Sure, I’ll forfeit the walk—for soda pop!”

  Sassy was already hitched to the enclosed family buggy. Grace was glad Adam had thought to take that instead of his open courting buggy. She felt self-conscious just thinking about being seen out riding when the Amish grapevine might already be whispering about Mamma.

  “So your hard work’s finished, ain’t?” he asked, referring to the thorough housecleaning.

  “Sure feels gut, I’ll say.”

  “And dinner was mighty tasty at noon, too.” He let the reins lie loose on his knees. “You’re nearly as gut a cook as—”

  “Adam, don’t say that,” she broke in.

  He frowned, shaking his head. “Honestly, I almost forgot Mamma was gone.”

  Naturally he would say that. He and Dat and Joe worked long hours outdoors this time of year, so Mamma’s not being around wouldn’t affect them as much as it did her and Mandy.

  And Mammi Adah.

  “Any idea where she might be?” Adam turned toward her, his straw hat tipped back.

  “No.” Grace shook her head. “This sort of thing doesn’t happen amongst the People.”

  “And a mighty gut thing, too.”

  She wasn’t about to divulge what Aunt Lavina had said to her sister. No point in that. Besides, it couldn’t possibly be true—Mamma interested in an old beau?

  “Dat’s more than ferhoodled.” Adam removed his hat and set it on his leg. “I’ve never seen him so confused.” He explained that he’d had to rewrite some of the feeding charts today, erasing many of Dat’s entries. “Ain’t at all himself.”

  “I can’t imagine what he’s feelin’.”

  Adam shook his head. “Me neither.”

  The horse pulled the buggy into the drive-through at the fast food place, where they stopped and placed their order for a single root beer. “You want one straw?” Adam asked.

  “I’d like my own, please,” she said, smiling. Her brother must’ve momentarily thought they were going to share, like he probably did with Priscilla. Like Grace did sometimes with Henry. “You’re as ferhoodled as Dat.”

  He laughed, a light glinting in his blue eyes. “Fact is, we’re all a mess, jah?”

  She couldn’t agree more.

  When he handed her the frosty root beer, she took a long, slow drink. As they headed back, she soon began to shiver from the cold beverage. “I do hope you’ll be happy when you’re married, Adam,” she said softly.

  Happier than Mamma . . .

  “And you, too.” He smiled. “I’d best be fessin’ up, Grace.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, your Henry told me he was comin’ to visit the other night. He swore me to secrecy a few days before.”

  She listened, not sure what to say. Was Henry’s and her courtship becoming common knowledge?

  “So did he ask you?”

  She nodded. “Jah, he did.”

  Adam stared at her. “And . . . ?”

  She laughed at his eagerness. “I accepted, but now . . . with Mamma gone away and all, I wonder if we shouldn’t hold off for a while.”

  “Aw, don’t be takin’ back your word, Gracie. What sort of girl does that?”

  Sighing, she realized he hadn’t understood. “I didn’t say I was breakin’ it off with him. Just that things are up in the air now.”

  “Jah, but do you think Mamma will be gone that long?”

  “From what little he’s said, Dat seems to think so.”

  Adam grimaced. “Still, I think you’ll be all right with Henry,” he said, his tone confident. “Let Dat and Mamma’s problems stay put with them. You . . . me, we have our whole lives ahead of us, Gracie. And just think—our children will be closer than your average cousins. I mean, with you marrying Priscilla’s brother and all. It’ll be fun raisin’ them together. Nearly like siblings, don’t ya think?”

  For once, he hadn’t heard her heart. She wasn’t talking about breaking her engagement, rather simply waiting till she was sure Mamma’d be there for the wedding. All Adam seemed to care about was their marrying siblings—and this fall, too—so that Adam’s children with Priscilla would be close cousins to Henry’s and her own.

  Grace sighed inwardly. I should’ve kept my thoughts to myself.

  Distracted during evening prayers later, Grace pondered her conversation with Adam. Because of his failure to understand her, she thought it best not to tell of her new idea brewing. Her mind was already in a whirl, flying back to the day of the barn raising—the day that had brought on so many changes.

  Dat seemed lost in a haze, too busy with daily chores to actively search for their mother. Worse, he seemed resigned to her absence, hoping for the best but braced for the worst.

  Hoping was far better, and in addition to her rote prayer, Grace whispered, Please help us know what to do, Lord. Amen.

  Her idea came back to her: What if she could actually find Mamma—talk to her and convince her to return home?

  At first the notion had struck her as silly. Other than horse and buggy—or calling for a hired driver—she had no access to transportation. Her ongoing domestic responsibilities, indoors and o
ut, presented another problem—it wouldn’t be fair to leave when Dat was so shorthanded with the lambing.

  Even so, Grace felt she ought to do something, small though it might be.

  With how close Mamma and Aunt Naomi always were, I wonder if Uncle Ike knows anything. Or maybe I should start by finding out who Mamma went walking with that day of the barn raising.

  Despite her sadness, Grace found a sense of anticipation, even hope in this. The woe-is-me pit of misery Mandy and Dat had fallen into was not for her. She would rise to the occasion and find their mother, bringing her home where she belonged. Thinking back to Aunt Lavina’s comment, Grace decided to talk first with Mammi Adah. She had a feeling her grandmother knew more than she was saying.

  Possibly a lot more.

  Saturday morning Grace and Mandy, along with Mammi Adah, baked oodles of loaves of bread for the common meal tomorrow, to be served following Preaching. All the while, Grace did her best to be attentive to Mandy. Before she left, Mamma had suggested that Mandy would need extra prodding, but Grace couldn’t see doing that now. Grace fully understood her sister’s sorrow but didn’t dare let their loss freeze up her own ability to think and feel. Especially not with so much to be done before the Lord’s Day. They were also hosting the bi-monthly Singing tomorrow evening, which meant Dat and her brothers would sweep out the whole second level of the barn this afternoon.

  Along with putting in her hours at Eli’s store, Grace would now have to juggle doing all that Mamma had done, too. Monday’s day of washing and ironing would be followed by Tuesday’s mending and darning of socks, as well as finishing up any stray ironing. Dat and her brothers would need socks without holes in them for the upcoming sheepshearing day next week. The sheep’s heavy coats required cutting before the summer, when they would shed much of the valuable wool. The sheep would also have their hooves clipped at the time of that all-day affair.

  As for herself, the early morning hours next Wednesday would be spent weeding the family and charity vegetable gardens, as well as the long rows of berry bushes all along the rock wall out back. Thursday was the only weekday Grace might squeeze in time to go down to Bart, assuming her talk with Mammi didn’t turn up enough to go on. She shuddered at the thought of asking questions about her mother, yet she would not shirk from it.

  Has the grapevine found its way that far south?

  Prior to making that trip, though, she first wanted to visit Uncle Ike Peachey. After all, Mamma had gone through all of Naomi’s books and personal things, carrying home several poetry books, some of which were now missing. Grace had read from some of them, but she couldn’t see why they were so highly cherished by her mother.

  Do they have something to do with a first beau? She hated to even think the thought.

  Perhaps now, since four years had passed since Aunt Naomi’s death, her husband might be willing to give Grace something more to go on.

  She sighed. Truly the biggest hurdle in all this was her daily chores. Next Friday she and Mandy would clean this big old house once again, and Saturday was another baking day. And next Sunday, although not a Preaching day, was a time set aside to rest, read, write letters, and go visiting relatives and friends—the latter something they usually did as a family.

  Presently, Grace turned her attention to starting the noon meal while the many loaves of bread cooled. Mandy would have to wash and dry dishes on her own, since Grace was scheduled to work at Eli’s this afternoon. How strange it would be to venture away from the house alone for the first time since rushing up the road after Mamma.

  She glanced at Mandy, glad her sister would be sheltered here at home from the endless stream of questions. For the time being.

  chapter

  nineteen

  The parking area at Eli’s was filled with cars and Amish carriages alike. Suddenly wary, Grace smoothed her skirt and sat for a few seconds after they arrived, not budging.

  Adam glanced at her kindly. “No matter what, Gracie, don’t let the rumors sting you.” He leaned forward, one hand holding both the driving lines connected to Sassy. “Mamma has a mind of her own—and what she’s done, well, it’s not what we’d do . . . not Dat, either.” He looked away, glancing across the road to the east, then back. “So don’t let the gossip hurt you is all I’m sayin’.” He smiled, which gave her courage.

  In the store, she signed in and set to work right away, holding her breath when Nancy and Sylvia Fisher—two Amish girls from her church district—looked her way. She responded in kind when Ruthie Weaver waved and smiled across the store at her.

  Remember what Adam said, she reminded herself. His words had the power to both sting and cheer her. He hadn’t bothered to listen to her heart yesterday when they’d talked, but she wouldn’t hold that against him, and she certainly didn’t want to borrow trouble. They had more than enough of that already.

  Grace was thankful Ruthie did not show her face that afternoon in the small room set aside for coffee breaks. She pressed the button on the water cooler, waiting while the paper cup filled. She then moved to the doorway to look out at the expanse of the store while she drank her water, its coldness seeping down inside her. She slipped away from the room while the other breaking employees talked a blue streak.

  Strolling the back aisle of the store, she looked over the selection of herbs she’d recently inventoried. She knew which ones were reported to elevate the mood and was picking up a bottle of valerian root and a box of passion flower herb, thinking of her despairing sister, when Nancy Fisher slowly approached her.

  Ach no . . . Grace groaned inwardly.

  Adah turned her teacup around slowly, disturbed by the bewildering news Marian Riehl had shared. “It’s beyond me, what you’re sayin’,” she told her neighbor.

  “Jah, ’tis hard to believe.” Marian stirred more sugar into her tea. “I’d like to think there’s no truth in it, but . . .”

  “Martin Puckett, you say?” Adah frowned, stunned. “Seems like an honorable man . . . and a driver lots of folk hire.”

  “We’ve called him, too.”

  Adah stared at her. “You say he took Lettie to the train station in the wee hours?”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “And he sat right with her, waiting for her train for how long?”

  “Hours, was what was said. And the man’s been gone ever since, too.”

  Adah shook her head. “Puh! Doesn’t sound right to me.”

  The sun broke through the clouds and shone through the kitchen window, glinting off the edge of the gas range. Marian turned and looked outside, so dramatic was the change in the room’s light. “But Lettie was known to—”

  “No, now, you listen here,” Adah said. “Lettie’s married to Judah and has been for a good, long time. Married, I say.”

  “Then why on earth would she leave him?” Marian’s words hung in the air.

  Why, indeed? Adah pursed her lips.

  Their time of tea and cookies was cut short when Jakob wandered in, looking bright-eyed from his afternoon nap. Adah was so relieved she let out an immense sigh, which Marian must have noticed, because she quickly pushed back her chair and excused herself for home.

  “Frankly, I hate to even whisper what I heard,” Nancy Fisher was saying.

  “Well then, you best not,” Grace replied, the bottle of valerian root still gripped in her hand.

  Nancy’s round face drooped, her frown creasing her brow. “All I’m askin’ is, can any of this be true?” She continued recounting the rumors.

  Martin Puckett held my mother’s hand at the train station?

  “Oh, this is ever so awkward,” Nancy said.

  Grace could hold back her frustration no longer. “Awkward for you, Nancy? I have no idea where you heard any of this nonsense, but if I were you, I’d be careful ’bout repeating things that are false.”

  “Well, is your mamma at home or not?” Nancy paused.

  “Priscilla Stahl says she’s left. And Martin Puckett’s nowh
ere to be found!”

  Adam’s fiancée’s talking like that about her future mother-in-law?

  Without a further word, Grace headed for the front door. She needed some air, lest she become as dizzy as Mammi Adah had been earlier this week. The last thing she wanted was to be carried back to the coffee break room and stretched out on the small sofa, being fussed over.

  “What on earth?” Jakob asked Adah while she carried the teacups and saucers to the sink. “Marian looked mighty befuddled.”

  “Well, I guess some folk have little to do but flap their tongues.” She would not repeat what Marian had said she’d heard from Sadie Zook, whose Englischer cousin, Pete Bern-hardt, had supposedly witnessed the distasteful scene.

  Why was Lettie at the train station? Where’d she go, for pity’s sake?

  “Ain’t becoming of Marian a’tall,” he said, indicating he’d overheard at least part of their neighbor’s accusation.

  Adah nodded. The gossip their neighbor had relayed was downright malicious. The way Adah saw it, it was wise of her to come over and get things straight from the horse’s mouth, so such talk could be brought to a standstill. Except that Jakob had interrupted them before she’d had a chance to set Marian straight.

  Lettie is quite respectable, she thought defiantly. At least now she is!

  Even these many years past, Adah remembered all too clearly how Lettie’s behavior as a youth had felt like a smack in the face—her face. How many times had she caught her daughter in the haymow with that one fellow? Sure, they’d merely sat out there talking and reading poetry to each other, of all strange things. But they couldn’t seem to stay apart for more than a day or so, and he’d be right back with his books. Word had it Samuel Graber was already on his way out of the church even then. He’d ended up renouncing Amish ways soon after, when his family had pulled up roots and left for another state. Even so, while they were courting, Lettie had never smiled so much in her life.

 

‹ Prev