Wonderful Lonesome

by Newport, Olivia

  “Yes?” He halted beside her.

  “I have decided I want to stay.” She scoured his face for a reaction and did not have to wait long.

  Ananias’s jaw tensed as he spread his feet under his shoulders, knees locked. “Has Willem finally chosen to take a wife?”

  “Not so far as I know.”

  Ananias waited for more.

  “I do not wish to disrespect you, Daed,” Abbie said, “but my calling is here.”

  “Your calling is to your husband, though I am somewhat relieved that you and Willem realize your differences. Rudy is much more suited to you. He is less likely to wander from the true faith.”

  Abbie flushed. Had Rudy spoken to her father? Until now, she had not thought so.

  “I have made no decision about a husband.” Abbie cradled her own elbows. “I have accepted a position with an English family.”

  Ananias raised two fingers to one temple. “Perhaps I have misjudged you as well.”

  “No, Daed. My heart belongs to our people. But it also belongs here in Colorado.”

  “I do not hear you asking for my consent.”

  She paused. “May I have your blessing?”

  Ananias resumed walking toward the house. Abbie trembled.

  Abbie did not have one dress that was better than another. She had three, and all of them lacked in some way. One had frayed cuffs, another faded color, and the third mended seams. This had never mattered to her before, but somehow in Louise Wood’s home, Abbie felt self-conscious. Perhaps it was the china arranged on the table for tea or the damask tablecloth or the wave of Louise’s sweeping golden hair held in place with a pearl-ridged comb. Louise’s dress was a muted solid color, but Abbie suspected it was what the English called Sunday best.

  “Everything looks lovely,” Abbie said, because it did.

  “Don’t mind the fuss.” Louise gestured to a chair at the end of the dining room table. “Every now and again I like to give Fin a chance to practice his manners.”

  “I’m anxious to meet him.” Abbie arranged herself in the chair.

  “Excuse me while I call Fin.”

  Louise stepped from the room, and Abbie allowed herself to absorb the room in more detail. Yellow chintz curtains draped from three matching windows against a pale green wallpaper print. In spite of the china and tablecloth, the tea offering was fairly simple: rolls in a bread warmer, a tea pot in a cozy, a few slices of cheese, and a bowl of red grapes. When Abbie heard the shuffle of feet in the next room, she wondered if Fin was as nervous as she was. A moment later, Louise appeared in the wide doorframe that separated the dining room from the front parlor with her hand on her son’s shoulder.

  “Fin, this is Miss Weaver,” Louise said.

  Fin folded one arm across his stomach and bowed. “I am very pleased to meet you.”

  “And I you,” Abbie said.

  The boy approached her and offered a handshake, which Abbie accepted immediately.

  “I hope you will feel comfortable in our home,” he said.

  Abbie smiled. The child was adorable in his navy blue suit and collared white shirt with his brown hair carefully parted and slicked down. She knew a boy who enjoyed being active on a ranch would not dress this way often, but he was making every effort to please his mother, just as Levi would have done.

  They were going to get along just fine.

  Outside the bank on Thursday morning, Willem straightened his suit and double-checked that the seam at the top of his shirt Abbie had mended a month ago still held. An oversized envelope contained assorted papers that may or may not be relevant to the day’s quest. He wanted to be prepared for any question.

  Inside the bank, Willem surveyed the lobby. A half-dozen people stood in lines to see the three tellers on duty, and around the perimeter of the room were several imposing desks occupied by men with stern faces and airs of authority. Willem had an appointment with one of them, the chief loan officer. He caught the man’s eye and smiled as he crossed the lobby.

  “Hello, Mr. Peters. Thank you for coming in this morning. I trust things are well on your farm.”

  “Well enough, considering the challenges all the farms have faced this year.” Willem was determined not to sound pitiful. It would only impede progress toward his goal. “I have been a conscientious steward of my resources.”

  The banker gestured to a chair opposite the desk. “What can I do for you today?”

  Willem sat up straight with his papers in his lap. “You may be aware that several properties near mine have become available.”

  “I have heard this, though I am not familiar with the particulars.” The banker adjusted his rimless glasses.

  “Eber Gingerich passed away, and his widow decided to sell the land. And now Ananias Weaver has decided to return to Pennsylvania.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” The loan officer thrummed the edge of his desk.

  Willem resisted the urge to look to one side and kept his gaze fixed on the banker’s face. “Both of these farms abut my property, which has caused me to wonder if this might be the time to enlarge my acreage. In the future, a larger farm would yield greater profit.”

  The banker leaned back in his chair. “Profitability in farming is subject to many circumstances. Number of acres is only one of them.”

  “I believe it to be a solid starting point. I would like to look into buying one of these farms, or at least some portion of the acres. To do so, I would need a higher line of credit.”

  “Mr. Peters, even the English farmers are having a tough go right now. The ranchers are doing a little better, but the drought has been difficult for everyone.”

  Willem did not move, lest any gesture suggest a crack in confidence. “Farming requires taking the long view, does it not? If we do not make plans during the difficult years, we will not be prepared for the opportunity of abundance in the future.”

  “Well, now, I suppose there is nothing to disagree with there, Mr. Peters. But this is a bank. I am a loan officer. Our decisions come down to taking acceptable risks.”

  “I don’t believe I have given you any reason to regard me as an unacceptable risk.”

  “No, not so far. But how would you make the increased payments that would come with a new loan when your farm has yielded so little in the last two years?”

  “I’ve brought some papers that will demonstrate my assets beyond the value of my mortgaged land.” Willem slid the documents out of the envelope and laid them on the desk.

  The loan officer leaned forward and began studying the papers. He flipped over several of them and looked up at Willem. “I grant you that you present a more encouraging picture than I had supposed, but it would still seem inadvisable for you to take on more debt.”

  “If I failed to make my payments, the land would belong to the bank.”

  “And it might be worth even less than it is now if drought and soil erosion continue. We would require a substantial down payment to hedge against that possibility.”

  “How much?”

  The banker named a figure.

  “If I could come up with that amount,” Willem said, “would you consider my application?”

  The banker cleared his throat. “I would agree to take the matter to the full loan committee, but I make no promise of the result you desire.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Willem collected his papers and returned to his wagon down the street. At the familiar lilt of a laugh, he turned his head.

  “Willem!” Abbie said.

  Beside her stood Rudy.

  “We didn’t know you were coming into town,” Abbie said. “We could have all come together.”

  We. Willem was not sure he had ever heard Abbie use that word to describe Rudy and herself. And he was equally uncertain he could remember a time when Abbie had come to Limon with Rudy. Abbie had not laughed since before Eber died. What had Rudy said to raise her mood? Willem reminded himself he had no right to be jealous as he looked from Abbie to Ru
dy and observed that they stood close together.

  “Have you just come from the bank?” Rudy’s blue eyes met Willem’s evenly.

  “Yes. I had some financial business to attend to.” Willem dropped his envelope of papers onto the floor of the wagon.

  Rudy pushed the fingertips of both hands together. “Perhaps it is no coincidence that you see the banker just as the farms around yours become available at an attractive price.”

  “Rudy!” Abbie took a step away.

  “Am I mistaken?” Rudy said.

  Willem spread his feet in a solid stance. “Nothing in Ordnung prohibits a man from making a wise business transaction.”

  Abbie’s mouth dropped open. “Would you really try to profit from Ruthanna’s loss? From my father’s concern for his sons?”

  Her tone stabbed him, and he hoisted himself into his wagon without answering.

  Abbie held still during the silent prayer before her family’s evening meal. Behind her closed eyes, while she smelled the roasted chicken whose neck her mother had twisted a few hours ago, Abbie saw Willem driving off in his wagon. She had expected him to deny Rudy’s accusation, but he had not. How was it possible that Rudy seemed to know Willem better than she did?

  Her father murmured his “Amen,” and the family began to pass dishes around the table. Looking at chicken for the fourth night in a row, Abbie’s calculation of how many were left in the coop obstructed her gratitude. Esther could have sold her chickens, especially the ones that were laying consistently, but she seemed to have chosen to feed her family with them. Green beans from the plentitude of the Ordway Amish, potatoes Abbie had dug last week, and bread filled out the meal.

  “Eat.” Esther urged Levi, who had passed the potatoes to Reuben without serving himself.

  “I’m only a little bit hungry.”

  Abbie heard the scuffling sound that meant Levi had hooked his ankles behind the front legs of his chair. He had been doing so well with eating until the last few days. She laid a piece of bread on his plate without asking if he wanted it. Levi tore off a corner and put it in his mouth.

  “I have urged all of you to pack your things.” Ananias sliced off a piece of chicken breast. “If you have not done so, please do so soon. We leave on Monday.”

  Abbie caught her fork just before it slipped from her grasp.

  Ananias pulled a neat stack of small papers from his lap and spread them on the table beside his plate. Levi leaned over to examine them.

  “Are those train tickets?” Levi asked.

  Ananias nodded.

  “But they didn’t give you enough. There are only five, and there are six of us.”

  Abbie dropped her eyes to her plate and carefully set her fork down.

  “Abigail has decided to remain here.” Ananias took a bite of potato. “And I have decided not to quarrel with her about it.”

  Levi knocked the train tickets to the floor.

  “Levi!” Esther pointed at the papers. “Pick those up right now.”

  Despite the reluctance in his face and shoulders, Levi complied. “Why don’t you want to come with us, Abbie?”

  “My heart would remain here.” Abbie reached to stroke Levi’s head, but he ducked away from her touch.

  “Don’t you love us?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then why aren’t you coming?”

  “Love is complicated sometimes.”

  Levi kicked the table leg.

  “Levi, behave.” Ananias’s words stilled Levi’s agitation but not the sulk on his face.

  Abbie glanced at Daniel and Reuben, neither of whom had stopped eating with their father’s announcements.

  “It will likely take some time for the farm to sell,” Ananias said. “Abbie can remain in the house until then. She has found a job for the time being. We’ll leave enough furniture for her to get by. She can keep the buggy, since no one but an Amish family would want it and none of them can afford it. Once the land sells, she will be on her own, since that is what she has chosen.”

  Abbie looked at her daed, but he did not meet her eyes.

  “Who do you think will come?” Willem passed Jake a bowl of boiled eggs and then picked up a slice of Abbie’s bread.

  Across the table in Willem’s kitchen, Jake cracked the shell and began to peel an egg for the simple breakfast they shared Friday morning.

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “I’ve spoken to a lot of families. People are polite, but that does not mean they will come. Perhaps we’ll have half a dozen for our first Sunday morning worship service. Even if it is just you and me, Christ will be present and glorified.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to wait until you’re certain more people will come?” Willem slathered butter on his bread.

  “It’s time,” Jake said. “Mennonites have been scattered in the area for five years. And all the ministers agree it is time for a mission to the Amish around Limon, since you do not have a minister of your own. In a few weeks, I will be ordained as a bishop. When people see that this is not a passing desire on my part, they will give more serious consideration.”

  Willem reached behind to the stove and brought the coffeepot to the table. “I’m serious, Jake. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. I know it may cost you dearly.”

  Willem filled his coffee cup. “Abbie has decided to stay when her family leaves.”

  Jake gave a half smile. “So there is hope for the two of you?”

  Willem shrugged, thinking of the way Abbie and Rudy had stood together at the edge of the street. “I don’t think that’s the reason she is staying, but I hold hope in my heart. All things are possible with God.”

  Willem lingered over his sparse Sunday breakfast. He could have managed more than coffee and a thick slice of bread, which he did not even bother to butter, but his mind was hours ahead of a dawn meal. Morning farm chores did not pause for the Sabbath. Willem had always found it humorous that while God decreed in Deuteronomy that livestock should have a Sabbath from their labors, God did not spare their owners the chores of caring for the animals. One morning a week that did not start with milking would have satisfied Willem.

  He swallowed the last of his coffee, pushed his chair back from the table, and paced to the stove. If he stoked it now, when he came back from the barn it would be hot enough to boil water and he could clean up properly for church.

  Church.

  Willem spoke the word aloud to savor the sensation on his tongue. Church. Far too many months had passed since he last indulged in the anticipation of worship with others who believed. Occasionally he joined the Weavers for their somber family worship. Most Sunday mornings, after the chores, he sat alone with his Bible on his knees reading a favorite passage and trying to remember a sermon that taught him what it meant. Now he thought that if he had known he would be so long without preaching he would have listened more carefully when he had the opportunity.

  But today would be different. Today he would ride in his new buggy to Limon, to Jake’s humble rooms, and pray for the others whom God would send to the gathering. Together they would pray for future worshippers who had not yet heard the call but would heed it in the months ahead. Willem would feel the Spirit move in his heart telling him the hymn they should sing, and he would intone the opening notes as the words rose from his throat. When he returned to his farm and sat at the table again, it would be with the drenching satisfaction of worship washing over his soul.

  Abbie crossed her wrists and laid them in her lap, her head as still as a tongue settled into a groove at the back of a cedar chest.

  Reuben and Daniel betrayed no emotion about this last Sunday as a complete family. Levi had refused to meet her eye all morning, and her mother’s face was drawn with unspoken resignation. When Abbie decided to stay in Colorado, she had not thought of this moment, this ache of the last.

  The last full day they would have together.

  The last time they would sit in the circle of their
front room to hear her daed lead them in family worship.

  She had missed the last smile on Levi’s face because she had not known it would be the last. Now she doubted he would relent. The sagging disappointment in his young face told her he knew she would not relent, either.

  Her father had chosen to read from the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, where God warned the people of Israel against the sin of disobedience.

  “Beware lest thou forget the Lord,” he read. And a few verses later, “Ye shall not go after other gods.”

  And then, “Ye shall not tempt the Lord your God.”

  Is that what Daed thought she was doing? Chasing after other gods? Testing the Lord?

  Perhaps he meant it as a warning against following Willem to the Mennonites.

  A Mennonite church would never be the church of Abbie’s heart, but surely it did not have to mean that Willem did not love the one true God.

  Rudy thought Willem was trying to serve two masters. Why else would he be trying to buy the Weavers’ farm, or Ruthanna’s land? Willem said all the right words about loving God, Rudy had observed, but he also did not want to pass up an opportunity to increase his worldly wealth at the expense of people he was supposed to care for.

  Willem was with the Mennonites that morning. He had given up trying to be discreet about his intentions. All the Amish families knew this was the day Jake Heatwole had chosen to hold his first pubic worship service. Abbie supposed next Willem would be actively recruiting Amish families to join him.

  Abbie allowed herself a slight shift in position. Why should she not tell Rudy she would marry him? He was right. They were well suited to each other in ways she had not realized until a few weeks ago. Together they could coax a living from the land and with their union announce that the core of Amish families did not have to dwindle away. It was still possible to think of a future. If she married, her father would not object—even in the guise of a family sermon—to her choice to remain in Colorado.

  Yes. Rudy was right. Willem had staked his future in his decision to worship with the Mennonites, and now it was time for her to stake hers.