Beckie nodded, but Sylvia could read no emotion in her face.
“Mamm said you wanted to see me.”
“Ya.” Beckie fidgeted with a few loose strands of hair, tucking them carefully back into place.
“And …”
Beckie had obviously done something she shouldn’t have—borrowed a dress and stained it or ruined another of Sylvia’s prayer Kapps or borrowed money from Sylvia’s stash. “Whatever is on your mind, dear sister, can we speed this conversation along? I forgive you. There. It’s done. Elam is here, and I want to go see him.”
Beckie licked her lips. “He’s not here to see you.”
“He said that?”
She nodded.
“I guess he’s still mad at me after all. Is he here to help Daed?”
“No. Well, maybe a little. But Elam’s not upset that you turned him down. Not anymore.”
Tightness moved into Sylvia’s chest. “I didn’t turn him down. You know that. I only said I needed a little time. You reminded him of that, right?”
Beckie shrugged. “I’m sorry, but it’s for the best, Sylvia.”
Panic began to race through her. What had happened? “Beckie, it’s not for the best to let Elam think I don’t want to marry him. It’s just that twenty-two feels young.”
“Nonsense. Most brides marry much younger than that … Amish ones anyway. I don’t think you really love him.”
“That’s ridiculous. What would you know about it?” Sylvia’s world tilted. Why was she having this conversation with Beckie? None of it made sense.
Beckie placed a clean towel on the ironing board and gently laid her prayer Kapp on it. “He’s … he’s here for me.”
“Oh, honey.” Trying to think of the most gentle way to correct her sister, Sylvia stepped closer. “You must have something mixed up. I—”
Beckie’s face turned red, and she shook a finger at Sylvia. “Of course you’d think that! No way could he be interested in a pipsqueak like me, right? Well, he’s asked me to marry him, and I wasn’t stupid enough to tell him to wait!”
“Elam did what? No!” Her sister’s betrayal burned through her, charring everything she held dear.
Beckie’s face softened. “I shouldn’t have blurted it out. I’m sorry.”
“You … you’ve been seeing Elam?”
“Ya.”
Hurt and confusion churned within her, and Sylvia couldn’t catch her breath. “I have to talk to him. This is all wrong. He loves me. Wants me.”
“Sylvia, no.” Beckie moved in front of her, an unfamiliar steeliness in her eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Sylvia stepped around her sister, ran out of the wash house, and headed for the barn. Rolling clouds moved quickly across the sky, shrouding the land in winter’s gray.
Surely Elam wouldn’t … Beckie had to be wrong. The idea of her sister being disloyal hurt too much to bear. And Elam’s betrayal? Impossible.
Sylvia hurried into the barn and stopped short. Neither man noticed her.
“Elam.”
When his eyes met hers, she was no longer confident that Beckie was mistaken.
“It’s not true, is it?” Tears threatened, and she swallowed hard. “Tell me you didn’t ask Beckie to marry you.”
Her Daed studied her for a moment before he lowered his head and went to the milk house, giving them privacy. Her Daed’s reaction made her head spin, and she longed to wake from this nightmare.
Elam walked over to her but fixed his eyes on the floor. “I told you I’m ready to marry this next wedding season.”
Part of her felt numb, and part of her burned as if someone had dumped scalding water on her. “You sound as if you don’t care who you marry. I thought you loved me.”
“I wasn’t the one who sounded sick at the idea of getting married this fall.” He lifted his eyes, and she could see his contempt. “And the truth is, I don’t think you’re ever going to be ready.”
“That’s not true.” How had the feelings between them soured so quickly?
“Do you love me?”
“If I said yes, what difference would that make now? You’ve betrayed me with my sister.”
“Let’s assume the answer is yes. That means you turned me down in spite of how you feel. Why? That’s all I want you to answer—for yourself, Sylvia. Why?”
Dozens of thoughts ran through her, and she didn’t know which to voice first. “She’s my sister, Elam. How could you do this?”
“If I wait, will you marry me?”
Was he setting her up so he could make more points in his argument, or was he proposing again? Her head pounded. “Are you … asking?”
“I—”
“Stop it,” Beckie hissed, interrupting his response. She moved between them, facing Sylvia.
Elam seemed perfectly content to hide behind her sister. Who was this man? Obviously a disloyal liar. As if piecing together a quilt, she began to see a new pattern forming.
On the weekends, after she and Elam finished milking the herd, he’d go into the living room while she showered and put on fresh clothes. How many of those nights had she come downstairs and found him and Beckie cackling over some line in a book or a game of some sort? Often he’d sit between the two of them as they took turns reading aloud. She never once had challenged Beckie about it.
What a fool she’d been. And she feared that her sister was being one also.
Beckie moved closer. “Sylvia, please, open your eyes. I love him so much more than you ever did. Since you turned him down, I see no reason for you to stand in our way.”
Sylvia fought to remain standing when all she wanted to do was sink to her knees and sob. “How could you do this to me? You’re my sister, and you know how I feel about Elam!”
“I know how he feels. He loves me, Sylvia. And it’s clear that I love him more than you do.”
Sylvia looked past her sister, wondering how Elam had managed to steal both of their hearts. Had he kissed Beckie too? Was Sylvia blinded by attraction? “How can you be so sure? I’m no longer sure he has any clue who he loves.” She hoped Beckie would hear that truth.
Elam slid his hand into Beckie’s, and Sylvia thought she might die from the pain of it. “I asked her, and she said yes. It’s done.”
The undeniable fact that they’d been seeing each other behind her back scattered the words inside her until she could find none to try to reason with her sister.
The door to the milk house creaked as it opened, and her Daed came toward her.
Sylvia motioned at the twosome. “How can you agree to this?”
Her Daed gestured for Elam and Beckie to leave. “We’ll finish up.” He waited until they were gone.
Tears ran down Sylvia’s face. “How could you be a part of this?”
“I’m not a part of it any more than you are. I’ve talked to Beckie until I have no more words.”
“Do you not have enough loyalty to me to refuse her?”
“Sylvia.” Daed pulled out his handkerchief and passed it to her. “I couldn’t have stopped what happened.” He motioned for her to walk with him as he went to a horse’s stall on the far side of the barn and grabbed a bridle. “I can dictate certain things over her, but no parent can predict or prevent something like this. No matter who Elam ended up with, the damage was done before either of us knew what was happening. You have it in you to forgive and let go. Beckie doesn’t.” He bridled the horse. “You can help your Mamm forgive too. She’s fit to be tied, as your sisters will be when they find out.”
Sylvia stared at her father, unable to believe his casual attitude toward Elam and Beckie’s traitorous behavior. “I can’t stay here and watch them marry.”
“It’ll be tough. I know it will.” He put a saddle on the horse and began tightening the girth. “But before Daadi Fisher died, he did something that’s never been done before. He left a fourth of the family farm to a granddaughter—you. He bypassed every son and grandson to do it. You w
ere grieving too deeply to know what all was happening, but for a while I thought there was going to be a feud over it. And I wasn’t sure the church leaders would allow it, but in the end they did. Don’t tell me you’d give up your inheritance over a man. I won’t believe it. Besides, if you don’t keep giving the dairy farm all you’ve got, you’ll own a fourth of nothing but bills.”
“You’re not hearing me.” She nearly shrieked at him. “I can’t stay here.”
“You’ve always said that the old place Daadi Fisher left you is too far from the herd for your taste. Let Elam and Beckie live there. It’ll give you some distance, as if they’re neighbors. You and I will run the herd and milk production. He and I will produce and harvest crops, keep the silos filled, and deal with the waste management. It’s a huge place, and if we handle things right, you won’t have to see him often. It’s far from ideal, but it’s the best I can offer.”
She’d never considered living in the two-bedroom house Daadi Fisher had left her, but the idea of Elam and Beckie moving there made her sick.
“Daed, I don’t care where they live. I have to get out. Why can’t you understand that?”
Hints of anger shadowed her Daed’s face before he drew a deep breath. “This is home, and no unmarried daughter of mine is moving away. It’s not respectable, and I won’t have it. You can find the strength, Sylvia. I know you can.”
“Is Elam doing this because of those papers you two signed?”
“No. But if I’d known then how this would turn out, I wouldn’t have taken him on as a partner. I’m sorry, Sylvia. Really sorry.” He held the leads out to her, giving her permission to go riding until she felt better. “I’ll see to it that you can get away for long weekends as much as possible. You can stay with cousins and aunts from other states for weeks at a time during our slow season. But this is home. I can’t imagine living here without you, and running away isn’t acceptable.”
She stared at him, too broken to feel any hope for her future. It was beyond her how either Beckie or Elam could do this, but for both to betray her was more than she could bear.
Daed sighed. “Trust me. It’ll all turn out for the best. I know it will.”
She took the reins from him, desperate to steal away for a few hours and get as far from the happy couple as she could.
As she rode the horse out of the barn, she didn’t bother drying her tears. Her vision blurred so much she could barely tell where she was going, and she knew it’d remain that way for a long time.
Two
Three years later
Faint sounds of someone moving in the next room ended Sylvia’s few hours of sleep. It had to be Elam.
The darkness of early morn surrounded her, and she wished she could hide in it forever. She pushed the warm quilts away and sat upright.
Light from a kerosene lantern stretched under the closed bedroom door, flickering softly. The silhouette of two cribs, both holding sleeping little ones, reminded her of where she was—trapped somewhere between love and duty.
It’d taken a while to bury her feelings for Elam after he and Beckie married, but she’d managed it. She’d helped Beckie a lot during her pregnancy and after the twins were born, but it’d been reasonably easy for Sylvia to juggle her schedule and keep a comfortable distance from Elam.
Then, six weeks ago, whooping cough had disrupted their routine. Sylvia had considered that illness extinct. She discovered the hard way that she was wrong. The doctor called it an easily communicable disease, and it’d spread through her family like scattered seed on a freshly plowed field. Sylvia had been vaccinated as a child when a health-care worker came to the house. Elam had been vaccinated as a child too. The doctor believed that was why the two of them remained virus free.
Beckie and their parents were among the first to be hit, and Beckie remained as weak as a newborn kitten, so Sylvia and Elam had no choice but to tend to the farm and family around the clock like a married couple.
His footsteps quietly echoed against the stillness, and feelings she hated burned through her.
Her niece cried out, coughing and whining. Sylvia moved to Rhoda’s bed and ran her hand across the mattress until she located the pacifier. She placed it in Rhoda’s mouth and patted her back, hoping the infant would go back to sleep before waking her twin brother.
When Rhoda fell asleep, Sylvia went to Raymond’s crib and placed the back of her hand against his little cheek. If he still had fever, it wasn’t much. She drew a relaxing breath. The symptoms of whooping cough wouldn’t last much longer.
The sound of Elam’s muffled footsteps made their way through the door. Sylvia grabbed her housecoat and pulled it into a ball against her chest. Thoughts of their long night together, sitting in this quiet room, echoed through her. They’d given the twins a breathing treatment, then talked for hours while rocking the little ones. When he passed Raymond to her, their hands brushed, and desire ignited—the kind that should happen only between him and Beckie.
Her skin tingled. She hoped he wasn’t about to enter the room, and yet a part of her wished he would.
A shadow glided under the crack of the doorway and stopped. Her heart pounded. A moment later the shadow disappeared. The familiar screech of the back door opening and then shutting said he’d gone to the barn. She had to join him. He had no other help, not with her Daed, Mamm, and most of her siblings down with whooping cough.
Years of avoiding him, of working opposite milking shifts, had come to an abrupt halt with this illness.
She went to the dresser, lit a kerosene lantern, and pulled out a newspaper ad she’d clipped a month ago. The ad was for help on a dairy farm belonging to an Amish man named Michael Blank, who lived in Dry Lake, a couple of hours southeast of here. Far enough away that she’d never have to see Elam unless she came home for a visit.
She’d shown the ad to her Daed, hoping to convince him to let her go. But he’d bristled at the idea and said he didn’t want to hear anything else about it.
He’d never let an unmarried daughter move away from home, and she’d dropped it. But now she clung to the idea of leaving as if it were her only chance of escaping temptation. And maybe it was.
Daed had kept his word, and over the past three years, she’d visited relatives whenever time allowed. She’d gone to singings and dated men from across four states, and not one of them interested her. What was her problem?
Whatever it was, she had to get out of here.
After this time with Elam, living in the main house with her parents would no longer be a sufficient barrier between them. Living a few miles away with a relative wasn’t good enough either. She’d still see Elam at church meetings, community functions, and family gatherings.
She peeled out of her nightgown, convincing herself that in spite of whatever had stirred between them last night, today was just another day of farm work and babies. She dressed for morning chores, then quietly opened the bedroom door, went to the mud room, and put on her boots, coat, and hat before heading for the barn.
Cold winter air filled her lungs. The sky’s dark majesty sparkled with dots of white light, as if trying to assure her that its vastness covered more than her problems.
As she drew closer to the barn, she heard the faint sounds of Elam moving through the morning routine. Bracing herself, she went inside.
“Guder Marye, Sylvia.”
She nodded in response to his softly spoken good morning, refusing to get pulled into a conversation. If talking could milk cows, he’d never need anyone’s help.
She moved toward the wheelbarrow of silage, feeling his eyes on her. Don’t look. Just don’t.
Her eyes moved to his, and she felt caught.
He’s forbidden. She didn’t need the reminder, but the phrase ran circles in her mind.
After filling the troughs with feed, he opened the gate, and the cows nearly stampeded into the milking stalls. As soon as the cows put their heads through the stanchions, she began locking the panels. He grabbed th
e nozzle of the hose that hung overhead through an elaborate scheme of cables and pulleys and squirted the cows’ udders.
“Hey, Sylvia.”
She finished locking the devices and grabbed the milking stool. A diesel engine in the milk house ran the refrigerator for the bulk tank and powered the air compressor for the portable milkers, but she had to start the milk flowing from each cow before the machinery could do its job.
“You okay?” Elam asked.
“I’m not getting sick, but I can’t say I’m okay.”
“Ya, I know. Me either. Just don’t be mad.”
She wasn’t angry. Terrified, maybe. Definitely overloaded with guilt. But too confused about herself to be angry with him.
After she cleaned and primed the first cow, Elam moved next to her with the claw milker and its attached bucket. She tried to get up, grab the stool, and move out of the way before he got too close, but instead she managed to trip into him.
He steadied her, his eyes never leaving hers.
With confusion and desire churning inside her, she went to the next cow. She hated Elam, but she still felt as though he were a magnet, drawing her closer. She longed to feel his lips against hers.
Think, Sylvia, and stop feeling.
“Did you get any sleep after I left last night?”
How she slept was none of his business. “Rhoda’s breathing easier.” She patted the cow as she stood to move to another one.
Elam’s hesitant smile drew her. “I never doubted you’d get the twins through this ordeal safe and sound. You have strength … determination that the rest of us don’t.” He moved closer.
Every part of her begged to slip into his arms. She passed him the milking stool and took the nozzle, keeping a safe distance.
She had to get out of Path Valley, but she doubted Michael Blank would hire her. She didn’t know of one man, Englischer or Amish, who’d hire a female farmhand—not unless she was part of a package deal that included a husband.
Even if Michael Blank would give her a chance, how could she convince her Daed to let her go? He couldn’t make her stay, but he could cut off her contact with him, Mamm, and her sisters.
The Harvest of Grace Page 3