Glancing at the clock again, she realized that she’d looked at it quite often in the past couple of hours, wondering about Maggie.
At that moment, Rachel heard the screen door open. And even before she saw Joseph’s aunt Nellie appear with her cat, Siegfried, in her arms, Rachel wondered if she might be coming to visit.
“Kumme in, Nellie!”
“I thought you might be over here twiddlin’ your thumbs, so here I be,” Nellie said, smiling as she came in and sat down at the table, keeping Siegfried low on her lap. Her cheeks were rosier than usual.
“Nice to see ya,” Rachel said. “Joseph and the children cut through the knee-high field grass to go an’ see some of Joseph’s Esh cousins. They should be back before too long.”
One hand still on Siggy, Nellie seemed to study Rachel. Her pure white hair was pulled tightly into a bun, her white organdy Kapp over the top. “And you stayed behind?”
“Thought someone oughta be home when Maggie returns.”
“Well now, are ya frettin’?”
Rachel shrugged. She wasn’t worried as much as she was curious and hoping to talk privately with Maggie upon her arrival.
As she was known to do, Nellie kept the conversation moving. Settled onto the wooden bench, she brought up the fact that she’d gone to visit Ruth Zook this afternoon. “Ruth was eager to tell me ’bout her cousin who went to a tent meeting last week.”
Now Nellie really had Rachel’s attention. “Is that right?”
Nellie was nodding her head. “I guess the cousin was a bit nervous about possibly being spotted in a crowd of all those Englischers an’ all.”
“Why’d she go, then?”
Nellie’s features came alive. “She went with her husband to see what all the hoopla was about.”
Rachel traced her finger along the edge of the closed Bible still in front of her, remembering her own encounter with revival meetings as a teenager. “So, do ya think many Amish folk are goin’?”
Nellie shook her head. “It’s mostly Mennonites—two Mennonite churches are sponsoring the meetings. More than a thousand people are expected tonight, Ruth said.”
“Joseph says baptized Amish have no business goin’.” Rachel sighed and thought that Maggie ought to be home fairly soon.
“Ya don’t sound so sure.”
This was the thing about Joseph’s widowed aunt—she sensed things, even when a body tried to conceal them. “Oh, you don’t have to wonder, Nellie. I was real surprised Joseph didn’t keep Maggie from goin’ tonight, even though she hasn’t joined church just yet . . . still in Rumschpringe, ya know.”
Nellie glanced toward the window. “Well, she’ll be eighteen soon, but even so, an unmarried woman oughtn’t go against her father’s wishes while she’s still under his roof.”
“Well, Maggie did ask his permission,” Rachel reminded her, “but he’d rather it didn’t get around that Maggie went, all the same.”
Nellie nodded her head. “I’ll keep it mum.”
Rachel smiled. “I know ya will.” She glanced at the cookie jar on the counter. “By the way, I have some sweets, if you’re interested.”
Nellie smiled a toothy grin. “You know me, I’m always ready for goodies. But let me get them; looks like you’re all in.”
Rachel had to keep from laughing. Here was Nellie, five decades older, wanting her to take it easy! “For goodness’ sake, you just sit there with Siggy.”
But Nellie put her cat down and rose to walk to the side door to stare out, talking to herself.
She’s restless till Maggie’s home, too, thought Rachel, going to get the cookies and some meadow tea.
7
I’m real curious what ya told the evangelist’s son,” Maggie said as she and Lila rode together in the sedan. They’d left Luke behind; he planned to get a ride home with his parents and other siblings.
“Only that you’re my cousin and it was your first time ever to such a meeting,” Lila said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel.
“Well, it was nice of him to take time for me.” Maggie paused a moment. “Is he planning to be a minister, too?”
“He’ll be a senior at Eastern Mennonite College this fall, pursuing biblical studies.”
Maggie listened, curious. This was wholly unlike the Amish way of drawing lots for ordination for ministry. To think that a young fellow like Glenn could be taught to be a preacher! It was mind-boggling. He does have a winning way about him, Maggie thought.
When they turned into Dat’s treed lane and parked up near the house, Maggie thanked Lila for bringing her home.
Lila asked, “Would ya like to go again tomorrow? Luke has to go anyway.”
“Are you goin’?”
“I definitely can,” Lila said. “If you want to.”
“Not sure I oughta.” Maggie remembered how uncomfortable she’d felt in the heat and the hubbub. And she couldn’t dismiss Dat’s reluctance about her attending, either. “Guess I’d better get goin’.”
“I hope you aren’t too worn out,” said Lila, looking at her kindly. “Here, I’ll help ya.”
Reaching to open the car door, Maggie nodded. “Denki, cousin.”
“Your Dat will be glad to see you’re home safely,” Lila said as she assisted Maggie out of the car and walked with her around to the back door.
“Jah, and I ’spect Rachel will be, too.”
“Well, if you decide to go, let me know, all right?”
“I’ll see if Leroy can ride over to tell ya, if I choose to.”
Maggie was glad to have time to let things settle in her mind, even though she secretly wanted to know more about Scripture—especially the verses Lloyd Brubaker had read tonight. And the man’s words continued to spin in her head. Ever so much to think about.
Several minutes after Lila backed the car out to the road, leaving Maggie in the kitchen with Rachel, her stepmother mentioned that she’d just missed seeing Nellie. Then Rachel began asking questions about the meeting. It was peculiar, her being so curious, and something within Maggie made her feel hesitant. Why does she want my opinion? she wondered, though she did her best to describe the magnitude of the tent, the enormous crowd, the many vehicles—too many to count—the soul-stirring music, and the spirited evangelist. She left out the part about the altar call and meeting Preacher Brubaker’s handsome and very friendly son.
“Are ya glad you went?” Rachel asked, eyes wide.
“Honestly, I’m a bit overwhelmed,” Maggie admitted, hoping Rachel would not press her further. She wasn’t at ease talking to her stepmother about something so personal . . . something that Rachel might later pass on to Dat.
“Did it make you want to go again?” Rachel asked, her hands cupped around her tumbler.
“I can’t decide.” Maggie looked out the window and saw her father and Grace, Miriam, and the youngest boys ambling across the shadowy yard, talking as they came this way. Leroy, however, was lagging behind.
Rachel must have heard them coming, too. “Well, it’s been nice talking ’bout this with ya, Maggie.”
“You an’ Dat could go and see for yourself sometime, maybe,” Maggie suggested, not knowing what else to say.
“Oh, ain’t something he’s interested in, and I wouldn’t go without him.”
“Jah . . . and only a few Old Order Amish were there,” Maggie said.
Rachel’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“Mostly older teens—courting couples—lookin’ in from the edge of the tent.”
“Interesting,” Rachel said, and she rose quickly as Dat and the others came inside.
Maggie headed to her room, glad to be alone at last. She took down her long dark hair, putting the many hairpins in a tiny pin box on the dresser one by one, then began to brush the whole length of it, down past her waist. She had to brush slowly, lest her arm play out, painful as it was. I certainly overdid it.
Still, she pondered all she’d heard and seen, including Glenn Brubak
er’s surprising welcome. And the minute she was dressed for bed, she pulled back the sheet and Mamm’s pretty summer quilt and slipped under them, making herself comfortable with several pillows to cushion her back and arms. Then she began to read the passage from Acts, wondering if it would affect her the same way it had earlier.
At the breakfast table the next morning, Rachel asked who wanted to go along with her to the fabric store, and before Maggie could offer, Miriam had raised her hand, like she was in school, which made Dat and the younger boys chuckle. Quickly, Stephen raised his own hand, mimicking Miriam and rolling his eyes. Nearly just as fast, though, Andy reached up and pulled it down, whispering to his brother to behave.
Leroy, however, ate his cornmeal mush and sausage as fast as he’d ever eaten. The entire time, he was slumped over, head close to the table, something he’d never done when Mamm was living—surely she would have taken notice and said something. Only once did he lift his eyes to look over at Maggie.
He’s struggling terribly, she thought, reaching for her chamomile tea, which Mamm had urged her to sip every morning, hot weather or not.
“Maybe Maggie would like to go, too,” Miriam was saying about the trip to the fabric store, looking expectantly at her. “I’ll be happy to share Mamma Rachel.”
Dat grinned at that, and Leroy scoffed audibly.
“Son?”
Leroy looked at Dat, his face grim. “Jah?”
Andy and Stephen exchanged startled looks, and Maggie held her breath. Leroy had never behaved so.
“Are ya finished eating?” Dat asked in a tone that suggested her brother would have been wiser to keep quiet.
Leroy didn’t bother to answer. Swiftly, he pushed back the chair, its legs scraping against the floor. “I’ll take my plate to the sink and get out to the stable.”
“You do that,” Dat said flatly, not raising his voice, but his ears were turning pink.
Leroy set his plate in the sink with a loud clatter, and Rachel flinched. Maggie almost expected her to reach for Dat, but Rachel was wringing her hands in her lap.
“I’ll be glad to go with yous to get dress material,” Maggie said right then, looking over at Miriam, who clapped her little hands.
“Do you wanna go, too, Gracie?” Miriam asked right quick.
After what had just taken place, Grace appeared quite flustered, and she merely nodded her head.
For pity’s sake, thought Maggie, wondering if Dat would head out and give Leroy a good scolding.
Surprisingly, though, Dat rose to go to the next room and get the King James Bible. He returned with it and sat back down at the head of the table, appearing calm and unshaken as he began to read a psalm.
8
The gray family carriage moved steadily along the paved road that snaked between the ditch on one side and the cornfield on the other. Banks of blossoming honeysuckle vines lent a lovely fragrance to the drive, and Maggie enjoyed seeing the occasional wild lilies growing along the roadside, too.
Miriam sat up front next to Rachel, at the reins, and Maggie and Grace sat in the second bench seat, watching the familiar countryside go by. Within earshot of others, they couldn’t really talk about the last Singing or anything more about Grace’s first date with Martin Lantz. And Maggie felt sure the tent meeting was off limits, as well.
She couldn’t help but remember all the times Mamm had held the driving lines, taking her three girls off to a work frolic or canning bee or whatnot. It was still a bit hard to see the back of Rachel and realize it wasn’t Mamm up there anymore.
Their stepmother was the first to speak. “I’m glad yous came with me.” She glanced over her shoulder at Maggie and Grace. “Your father gave me extra money for sweets on the way home.”
“Ice cream, maybe?” Miriam looked up at Rachel, her expression hopeful.
“You guessed it.”
“Goody!” Miriam looked back at Maggie and Grace, a big smile on her cute face.
Rachel laughed, looking at Miriam with obvious affection. “The stop at the fabric store shouldn’t take long, since I know what dress material and sewing notions I’m lookin’ for.”
“My dresses are getting too short,” Miriam announced. “Or maybe I’m just inchin’ up.”
Grace spoke then. “I’ll let down the hems for ya when we get home. How’s that?”
“Denki,” said Rachel over her shoulder. “We need to try an’ make her dresses last through the summer if possible.”
Maggie felt like an observer as she noticed how well the three of them seemed to be getting along. As reticent as she felt toward Rachel, she wished Leroy might at least give their stepmother a chance. “I’ll help make the noon meal,” Maggie offered, “since Grace’ll be adjustin’ hems and you’ll be cutting out a dress pattern, Rachel.”
“Are ya up to it?” Rachel asked, her eyes still on the road.
“So far.” Just then, Maggie thought of Lila’s invitation to go to the tent meeting again tonight. To her surprise, a sense of excitement coursed through her. Maybe if I rest some this afternoon, I’ll feel like going.
The quaint little fabric shop was busier than usual with customers, which pleased Rachel no end. It was, after all, owned by an Amish widow, and Rachel preferred to spend money where it could go to help others of like faith.
Rachel went right to the many bolts of dress material while the girls wandered about the store.
“Hullo there, Rachel.”
She turned to see Ruth Zook’s married daughter Lavina carrying a thick bolt of black dress fabric. “Nice to see ya.” Rachel eyed the fabric. “Looks like you’ve got some sewin’ to do, too.”
“Goin’ to a funeral for an old friend,” Lavina said. “And my for-gut black dress has seen better days.”
“I understand.” Rachel wondered how Ruth was feeling. “I sure hope your Mamm’s on the mend.”
“Oh, she is. An’ she says up and down that your ice cream hit the spot—some of the best she’s tasted.” Lavina smiled radiantly, then waved and hurried to the cash register with the bolt of fabric.
Glad she enjoyed it, thought Rachel, finding the royal blue fabric she was looking for. As she turned toward the spools of thread, she noticed Maggie and Grace talking to Lillian Beiler over in the corner. If she wasn’t mistaken, it looked to her like Maggie had gone pink. Is she feverish again?
———
Goodness, thought Maggie, but Lillian Beiler has a talk on. And it was all about Jimmy!
“My son wants to be an apprentice,” Lillian said as she looked directly at Maggie. “Already workin’ with the smithy.”
Maggie wondered if anyone could tell how warm her face was. The way Lillian, bless her heart, just kept sharing things about Jimmy, moving on now to mention the new straw hat he’d finally purchased, as well as some new black shoes, too, over at the Amish shoe store on Belmont Road.
Why’s she going on so? Maggie glanced at Grace, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
Eventually, Maggie mentioned to Lillian how pretty the soft pink fabric was that she had in her hand. And, thank goodness, Lillian commented right then on her youngest daughter’s growth spurt.
“Like me?” Miriam said with a grin as she sidled up to Grace. “But we’re just letting down my hems for now.”
Lillian nodded. “That’s schmaert. Seems children grow extra fast durin’ the summers.”
It was then that Maggie noticed Rachel moving toward the front of the store, coming this way. “Well, it was nice to see ya, Lillian,” Maggie said cordially, ready to bring the awkward conversation to an end.
“You too.” Lillian singled her out with her gaze.
Grace and Miriam said good-bye, as well, and, gripping her cane, Maggie smiled through the flashes of pain as she headed toward the door.
Later, on the way home, Maggie wondered what Lillian—and Jimmy, too—might think if they knew she was planning to slip away to meet her Mennonite cousins that night to attend the tent meeting
again. Maybe I can step out without attracting Dat’s or Rachel’s attention. . . .
“When did ya see Maggie last?” Rachel asked Grace after the supper dishes were washed and dried.
“She was in her room for a while, but then, far as I know, she went out for a walk,” Grace said.
“A walk?” Rachel felt surprised. “She must be feelin’ much better.”
“Well, she was movin’ real slow when I saw her leave by way of the front door. She’s usin’ her cane again.”
“How long ago was this?” Rachel wondered if someone should go and look for her. What if Maggie fell and wasn’t able to get help?
“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine,” Grace said. “She knows not to take on more than she can handle. And it’s still light for another couple of hours.”
For a moment, the thought crossed Rachel’s mind that Grace might know more than she was saying. But then Grace offered to go and find her, if Rachel really thought it necessary.
“Nee, I won’t worry. But if Maggie’s not back before dark . . .”
“Then I’ll see what’s up.” Grace looked thoughtful. “What if she met up with a fella and doesn’t want anyone to know?”
Rachel laughed. “’Tis possible.”
Grace smiled and went to wipe down the oilcloth on the table.
Rachel knew something of the courting rituals in Lancaster County, but it had been a long time since her own dating years. In fact, till Joseph courted her, she hadn’t dated again after being jilted in her teens. To be sure, she scarcely thought about such things anymore. But considering that she was now a stepmother to two dating-age girls, she figured she had better start paying attention.
9
The First Love Page 5