by Sarah Price
Before Anna could make sense of what Leah had just said, Hannah interrupted her sister. “A van is headed out that way! Apparently, when Freman told Daed about this trip, Maem suggested to Freman that we should also go along!” Both young women tittered at this and bounced joyfully on the balls of their bare feet. “Daed said we could!”
This time, it was Leah interrupting Hannah. “Isn’t that just wunderbarr! Lancaster County! Why, I’ve always wanted to go there!”
“Why on earth would he permit the two of you to travel to Lancaster?” Mary’s off-handed comment, singed with more spice than sugar, was ignored by the two enthusiastic young women.
“We’re to visit with Maem’s cousins, the ones that live in Leola.”
“The Blanks?” Mary made a face. “What on earth for? Salome hasn’t seen them in . . . oh, what? . . . twenty-plus years, I suppose!”
Leah frowned at her sister-in-law. “That’s not the point!”
“And I seem to recall your maem thinking unfavorably about one of the Blanks. The mother, I reckon.”
Sighing, Leah rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Anna. Once more, she became joyous again. “We’re leaving on Thursday in the morning and will return Tuesday. It’s just for a few nights, but we’ll attend worship and fellowship there! And then they are having a special youth gathering on Sunday! Won’t that be fun to visit with Maem’s cousins, meet new people, and see how they worship? I do wonder if it will be much different than our services.”
Hannah didn’t wait for Leah to catch her breath before she added, “You must come, Anna. It simply wouldn’t be complete without you!”
Both the news and their request were completely unexpected and caught Anna off-guard.
All afternoon, she had been sitting at the kitchen counter, peeling apples for making applesauce, a staple at the table since both little Cris and Walter often ate three helpings of it, especially when the vegetables weren’t to their liking. And, unless Anna was the one to cook, the boys often wrinkled their nose at the overcooked, limp vegetables that graced the table.
“I don’t know what to say,” she stammered. She had never left Ohio. In fact, she had never left Holmes County. What was the need? Her family and life were here; she never had any reason to travel outside of the area. The thought of traveling so far away unnerved her. “Where would we stay?”
“Maem’s cousins live in Leola, but we are to stay with the Esh family.”
“Leola?” Anna had never heard of such a place. “And why the Esh family? I’m not familiar with any of these people.”
“It’s nearby. The Esh family are Freman’s relatives, and their son is his good friend. Apparently the Esh family has a large farm there. A farm that the son is to inherit.” Leah stole another look at Hannah as if to suggest something.
“Oh, please!” Hannah waved away Leah’s insinuation. Everyone knew that she courted Caleb, even if an announcement had still to be announced. Still, under the cloak of evening shadows and in the privacy of her own home, Mary often wondered out loud why he hadn’t spoken to Raymond and Salome yet, speculating that it wasn’t a definite marriage.
Apparently, Leah felt the same way. “Think about it, Hannah! I hear that Pennsylvania’s winters aren’t half as horrid as ours! You’d do quite well living in Pennsylvania with their cute little heart-shaped prayer kapps!”
Ignoring Leah’s teasing, Hannah reached for Anna’s hands. “Say you’ll join us!”
Before she could answer, Mary stepped forward and interrupted the conversation. “This is outrageous! I fail to see why Cris and I couldn’t join you too!” She looked at Leah, her mouth pressed into a firm and clearly dissatisfied line. “It’s as if we aren’t allowed to experience anything out of the norm, just because we are married! There is no reason for omitting us in your invitation. We are family too, ain’t that so?”
At this comment, the joy evaporated from the air. For just a moment, Leah and Hannah stood there, the former with her mouth hanging open and the latter with a dumbfounded expression on her face. The silence hung heavy between them. Hadn’t the girls learned anything from their sunset walk a few nights ago? They should know by now that, upon learning of any social event or adventure, their sister-in-law would insist upon participating, regardless of her responsibilities with her home and children.
Wishing she was anywhere but there, Anna bent her head over the apple in her hand, focusing her attention on peeling it in the hopes that she wouldn’t be called upon to respond.
That responsibility fell upon Leah’s shoulders.
“Why, Mary,” Leah said. “Little Cris and Walter — ”
“ — Can stay with your maem!” Mary quickly added, interrupting Leah. “I’ve never been to Lancaster, and with just these two small ones, this might be our last opportunity to travel alone.”
Leah laughed. “I fail to see your reasons for that statement, Mary! People travel with their kinner all the time.”
Mary looked at Anna, drilling her with her eyes. “If you go, I most certainly need to go. After all, you are staying here to help me. You know how sick I have been.”
“I really do not have to go,” Anna offered, her voice sounding meek against Mary’s.
Ignoring her sister, Mary began to think out loud. “And Cris should accompany us too. I mean, honestly, how much do we really know about this Freman Whittmore?” With great purpose, she looked at each of the three women, taking her time to assess their reactions. “Hmm? And I certainly don’t think young women traveling alone with a single man are going to lead to anything except gossip anyway!” She straightened her apron, a prim expression on her face. “A chaperone. That’s what you need. Someone older and more . . . responsible, to guide and oversee you.”
Leah lifted her chin and stared at her sister-in-law, the muscles tightening in her jaw. Anna held her breath, watching and waiting for what she presumed would be an interesting, if not deliberately hostile, response.
“I highly doubt that the bishop would welcome any such gossip in his g’may, indeed,” Leah said in an even tone. “Especially since he is to accompany us on this journey.”
Stifling a laugh, Anna bit her lower lip and returned her attention to the apples.
Mary, however, gasped and put her hand on her hip, staring down at Leah. “Ach!” she said sharply. “You never mentioned that this was a retreat of any type! For shame, Leah, not telling me that! And with the bishop attending, it’s even more dreadful of you to not include us!”
Hoping to redirect everyone’s attention to a more peaceful topic, especially since Anna was firmly convinced that Mary would now occupy a seat in the van that would take Leah and Hannah to Lancaster, Anna changed the subject. “It’s a lovely time of year to travel, I’m sure. However, I best stay here with the kinner.”
To Mary’s chagrin, Hannah immediately went to Anna and grasped her shoulders. “Nee, Anna. Leah and I are most determined that you should go with us! It’s only for a few days and you, of all people, need the change of environment.”
“You’ve never been there, ain’t so?” Leah asked.
With the focus of the discussion on her, Anna knew that Mary’s temper would flare again. To her credit, her sister con
tained it as best as she could, choosing not to respond with words but demeanor. With a loud huff, she stomped out of the kitchen and disappeared through the door, most likely to track down Cris and share the news of an upcoming trip.
Her absence was barely noticed, such was the excitement from Leah and Hannah. Their enthusiasm to talk meant that Anna did not have to contribute to the conversation. For that, she was grateful.
But truth be told, the last thing she wanted was to travel for so many hours in a van with Freman Whittmore. The close proximity to him would surely cause her more pain than she felt able to bear. Still, she could scarcely say no to the two young women who begged and pleaded with her, saying that they too would stay home if Anna did not accompany them. While Anna tried to make her point that the two young children would need her, especially considering Mary’s determination to travel along, both Leah and Hannah stood strong, neither one willing to hear an argument against having Anna’s companionship on their journey.
With great reluctance, Anna could do nothing more than acquiesce. Their perseverance and their reasoning outweighed her objections. As the two young women discussed what they would bring and wondered what Lancaster would look like, Anna managed to pick up another apple, eager to push this upcoming journey into the furthest corners of her mind.
While the thought of traveling in a van for so many hours, Freman seated just mere feet from her, brought her dread, she also knew that she had only herself to blame. Time and distance had not healed that wound. At the time, Anna didn’t know how to argue against the people who guided her through life. Her own life.
With a heavy heart Anna realized that, eight years later, she still did not have the strength to stand up to the decisions made by others on her behalf.
Chapter Eight
THE EXPANSIVE FARMS sat in low valleys between the hills as they drove down the main street in Leola, Pennsylvania, a scene quite different from the towns in Holmes County, Ohio. Due to the flat nature of the valley, the fields flowed in a way that Anna had never seen before. In Ohio the hilly nature of the farms meant that farmers had to compartmentalize their fields so that crops were often grouped together and separated by fences. Not so in Lancaster, Anna observed. But in both places the first shade of autumn—yellow—had colored many of the trees, with the first burst of reds and oranges not far behind. Leola in early October promised to be as splendid as Sugarcreek in that regard.
With eyes large and curious, she stared out the window, seeing the white barns with open planks and large tobacco leaves hanging from the rafters. Such a beautiful vision, she thought. In one field, a man, his beard long and gray, sat hunched over on a corn binder, four cream-colored Belgian draft horses pulling the piece of machinery along the rows of brown corn stalks. As the van passed, the man lifted his hand and waved to the driver and the occupants.
At the top of the next hill, the driver turned left and drove down a long, straight road. Anna’s eyes searched the fields, taking in the large houses, often expanded multiple times to accommodate new additions to the family, looking strangely out-of-proportion to the barns. In many cases, the houses were three times the size of the other outbuildings. Unlike Holmes County, Ohio, the Amish of Lancaster County seemed to build additions onto their houses, almost as if the family lived in a small community. With land being so expensive, and disappearing at an alarming rate, Anna understood the need to have several generations living under the same roof or on the same property. However, she much preferred the smaller houses of the Amish in her native Holmes County in Ohio.
The bishop had slept for most of the journey, although his companion, another bishop named Wilmer Kaufman—who lived in a nearby g’may—seemed content to talk with Freman for most of the journey. Since Freman sat beside the driver, Wilmer leaned forward as he talked. While the discussion mostly focused on crop rotation and Scripture, it appeared to Anna that Wilmer conducted most of the conversation, voicing his opinions as facts and ignoring the emotionless expression on Freman’s face. As neither a farmer nor an evangelist, Freman certainly had little to contribute, a fact which apparently pleased Wilmer. Within one hour of their journey, it was clear to Anna that this Wilmer enjoyed speaking almost as much as he enjoyed hearing himself.
Behind the two bishops, Cris and Mary occupied the middle row of the van. For the duration of the long drive, Mary fussed and fidgeted, occasionally complaining that the seat was uncomfortable and her back ached from sitting for so long. To his credit, Cris offered his sympathies and, at one point, offered to switch places with her on the off chance that his seat was more comfortable.
The remaining three women occupied the rear row of the van. Anna sat by the window, which afforded her the opportunity to either watch the scenery unfold or sneak fleeting, undetected looks at Freman. The giddiness with which Leah and Hannah had embraced the idea of the journey seemed to wear thin when they had been in the vehicle for over three hours and with another three hours still ahead of them. Yet, unlike Mary, neither one complained. They merely shut their eyes and let sleep overtake them, which, to her relief, had left Anna alone with her thoughts.
“Here’s our place,” Freman suddenly indicated, pointing to a large farm at the next driveway, a long one that cut between two large fields. In the distance Anna thought she saw a pond glimmer under the sun.
As the van pulled down the driveway, she turned her attention to the house. It was more contemporary than the other farms they had driven past. With a wide front porch that wrapped around the south side of the house, Anna imagined that Jonas and Rebecca Esh might often pause to observe glorious sunsets from such a vantage point. It was something she, herself, would certainly do should she be ever so fortunate as to have such a view from her own home.
There were numerous flower beds in front of the porch, planted with hardy mums and ornamental cabbage to reflect the change from summer to autumn. To the north of the house was a large two-story barn. The double doors at its entrance were wide open, and she could see a horse standing in a stall, its ears perked forward at the noise of the vehicle coming up the driveway.
“Hello there!” a voice called from the depths of the barn as they disembarked from the van. A man emerged through the doors, a large black dog at his heels. He was a short man with bright blue eyes and a gray beard that was trimmed in such a way that it just touched the top button of his shirt. His black trousers had four horizontal buttons just under the waist, and he wore large clunky boots upon his feet. He seemed pleasant enough, and Anna knew at once that she would like him.
“Freman! Right gut to see you!” He extended his hand to shake Freman’s before being introduced to the others. From the expression on his face, Anna also knew that he was genuinely pleased to welcome them to his farm.
The two older men, however, and in particular Bishop Kaufman, seemed anxious to continue their journey, for they were headed farther east to Pequea. Bishop Kaufman stated as much to Jonas Esh and abruptly turned toward the van. Bishop Troyer, demonstrating more manners and grace, cleared his throat before confirming with Freman that the group would be retrieved on Tuesday morning at four. Slipping a piece of paper into Freman’s hand, a note that contained a phone number to reach him in Pequea, the bishop bade good-bye to the rest of the group and returned to the van, assuming the front passenger seat while Bishop Kaufman returned to the backseat.
Jonas Esh led the group to the house. “Rebecca has been baking all day,” he said, smiling as they climbed the steps to the porch. “So excited for company.”
“I hope we didn’t trouble her,” Anna said softly. “Five people for company might be more than she anticipated.”
He laughed. “Nonsense. A home is happiest when there are lots of people in it to share fellowship! We raised our kinner here and plan to raise lots of grand-babies here too!” He opened the door and pushed it open. “Providence just didn’t provide them for us.” He winked at her. “Yet.” Stepping aside, he gestured for everyone to enter before him.
The downstairs of the house was large and open, the floor plan having been designed with an Amish family in mind. Anna soon learned that Jonas and Rebecca Esh had six children, four married daughters who lived in neighboring towns, and two sons, Benjamin being the one set to inherit the large farm and Jacob, who had not felt moved to become a baptized member of the Amish church.
When she learned this, Anna glanced at Rebecca. With her rotund face and pink cheeks, she reminded Anna of her grandmother on her mother’s side. The memory warmed her insides, and once again, Anna was struck with an immediate sense of ease in their company.
Within minutes, Benjamin entered through a back door, having seen the van arrive from the fields where he had been working. With dust on his face and freckles on his nose, he looked younger than his twenty-three years. He wiped his hands on his black pants before he greeted the visitors. Unlike his parents, he did not smile, nor did he have bright, sparkling eyes, a fact that caught her off-guard.
There was an aura of dullness about him, one that startled Anna, for it was a look that she knew all too well. While Freman introduced everyone, Anna studied the young man, wondering at the depths of his pain and why more than six months later, he could still be so intensely mournful for a woman who had not even been his wife. However, as soon as she thought that, she reproached herself. Eight years after her own loss, she too was still grieving. Why should she expect that Benjamin could regain his spirits so soon after the death of his intended?