“But we were foolish for getting lost in the first place,” I said. “Now everyone is worried and searching for us. We’ve caused such a fuss.”
“Accidents happen. A forest in darkness is a confusing place. Anyone can get turned around in those conditions. I’ve gotten lost hunting. More than once.”
He behaved entirely polite, even charming, with a slight smile teasing the edges of his mouth, but I would not be swayed by the gratitude I felt at our rescue. I knew who he really was, and I refused to forget those memories.
“Yes, I suppose,” I murmured distractedly.
“Wasn’t someone going to shoot back?” asked Anna. “Did anyone hear those shots?”
“We’re down the ridge, so I’m not certain at all. It doesn’t matter tonight. We’ll see everyone tomorrow, but there’s a great deal of walking ahead of us. You’ve gone miles in.”
This news bothered me. I needed a moment to myself to process what had just happened. “I’m going for more water.” I stood, brushing leaves from the dress. I reached for the bucket.
Daniel’s eyes had widened with interest. “Where’s your source?”
Oh, fiddle sticks! He seemed ready to follow me. “It’s … it’s over there.”
“I’ll go with you.” He snatched the rifle from the side of the tree. “Lead the way.”
I cast one last look at Anna, grimacing. She smiled, which annoyed me. She knew how I loathed Daniel Stoltzfus, and now I would be alone with him. I had prayed for a rescue, asking—begging God to help us, but this was not what I had in mind.
“It’s right over here,” I said.
I led the way, lifting my feet over brambles and roots. The ends of the dress had been torn to shreds, but that hardly mattered. I did not wear my kapp, as it dried on a tree. Strands of hair had come loose, the blonde tresses falling to my shoulders. Being in the elements for the last two days, I knew I appeared a mess, but there was nothing to be done about it.
“I’m glad I found you.”
Those words were unexpected and unwelcome. “Well, we prayed for help, and … it came.”
“But you would’ve preferred being found by your Dat. I understand.”
“Or my brother.” We neared the water’s edge, working our way down a slight embankment. “There it is.” I pointed.
“Thank you.” He left the rifle against a tree, bending to wash his face and hands.
“It’s nearly dark.” I wasn’t as frightened now, being here in the dusk with a man I loathed, but he had a weapon. “It’s a shame we can’t go back tonight.”
“If we had lanterns, yes, but we don’t.” He scrubbed his face vigorously.
I decided to do the same, kneeling more than five feet away from him, not wanting to get too close. The water felt cold, yet refreshing. “Like I said, it’s a shame.”
He sat by the flowing brook, his feet inches from the water. “You’re not happy to see me, but you’re never happy to see me.”
“We needn’t talk about this.”
“But we should. We might never have another chance.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you, Daniel Stoltzfus. You know how I feel.”
“Actually, I don’t.” His eyes roamed over me, which felt invasive and unnecessary. Why must he stare like that? “I’ve dozens of questions, Rebekah. I’m hoping you’ll talk to me.”
“What’s there to say?”
“Why won’t you let me court you?”
Oh, rotten eggs! He remained terribly persistent about this infernal subject. “A woman can refuse a man. I don’t need to explain myself.”
“I’d like to know what you object to so much. Is it my looks? Am I too ugly for you? Is my manner too coarse? Have I offended you in some way? As I recall, we used to talk, years ago. We’d walk to school together. What happened to change all that?”
He doesn’t remember! That event had been so inconsequential; he’d erased it from his mind. “I … object … because I object.” I did not wish to discuss this, wanting to return to camp. I moved towards him, hoping to pass, but he jumped to his feet, grabbing my arm. “Sir!”
“Why do you object?” Anger and concern creased the skin on his forehead. “Please tell me, so I can right the wrong. I’ve obviously offended you in some manner, or else you wouldn’t feel this way.”
“It’s not me, sir. It’s not me you should apologize to.” I tugged on my arm, but his grasp remained firm. “Ouf! Let go!”
“That’s far too vague. Talk to me, Rebekah. Tell me why I must apologize. What have I done?”
“You truly don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
His behavior that day had been despicable, and he could not recollect it, thereby leaving me to believe he dealt with people in that manner often. “I … we are different creatures, Daniel. You and I clash in nearly every way. We’ve nothing in common other than we’re Amish. That’s why I have no desire to court you.”
He let go of my arm, but his expression remained unchanged. “I disagree. Please tell me why you hate me. You remember something I don’t, but, if you’ll enlighten me, perhaps we can talk about it.”
“I don’t wish to discuss it. If you can’t remember your own poor behavior, why should I mention it? Treating people with disdain and violence is of no consequence to you.”
“Violence?”
“Yes, violence.”
“What are you talking about?”
Anger swelled within me, as this was precisely what I had not wanted to discuss. “Never mind.”
“Rebekah!” He tugged on the apron, preventing my departure. “When have I been violent?”
“It was long ago, far too long, I suppose. You obviously don’t remember. Or it was of little importance to you.”
“Then tell me!”
“Let go!” He released the grip he had on my clothing.
“If I’ve done wrong, I should know. Why don’t I remember?”
“It was something that happened at school. It was something I saw you do. You saw me too. You know I was there.”
Something flickered in his eye. “I remember.”
“Do you?”
“And this you still hold against me?”
“I don’t hold it against you, but I don’t condone it. I would never treat someone that way. I don’t want to be with people who are like that.”
He rubbed his chin, which sported shorn hair. “I see.”
Was that all he had to say on the subject? I could expect no more from him? “Then we have nothing left to discuss.” I began to walk away.
“Rebekah.”
“Yes?”
“Might I have the chance to defend myself?” He shook his head. “I mean, to explain. I can’t justify or defend what I did, but I hope you’ll let me explain.”
I turned to face him, wanting to deny him, but something prevented it. He looked defeated, forlorn, and crushed. You mustn’t feel sympathy for him! Don’t! But I knew I would, because I had been brought up to practice forgiveness. This would not be easy. “I have little choice in the matter. God has seen it fit to throw us together in the wilderness. I’m a captive audience now, aren’t I?”
“I don’t want to force this on you. I’ll only speak about the matter, if you agree to listen—if you want to listen.”
“But I don’t. If I could be honest, and I will be, I don’t want anything from you. Your explanation isn’t necessary. It won’t change a thing.” Something flashed in his eyes, and I got the distinct impression it was pain. I sighed, irritated that I had been put in this position. “If you wish to speak about it, I’ll listen.”
“Will you listen with an open mind?”
“Are you accusing me of being judgmental?”
“You’ve judged me for something I’ve done years ago, so, yes.”
“You’re begging me to listen to you, yet you antagonize me.”
“Stubborn to the core.” He sported a rueful, half-hearted smile.
“Only w
here you’re concerned.” I had spoken too bluntly, but it was impossible to take it back.
“Then you’ll hate me either way. It doesn’t matter what I say.”
“I don’t hate you. I’ve forgiven you. It’s our way, and you know it. That’s why there’s nothing more to say about this subject.”
“But there is, because … I adore you. You spurn me every time we meet, but I still adore you.”
Stunned, I tried to gather my wits. “You’ve some strange romantic notions, Daniel Stoltzfus. And you’re stubborn as well, to the point of idiocy. When the person you covet detests you, why on earth would you continue to harbor affection towards them?”
“I’ve asked myself that question many times. So you do hate me.”
“Detest is not hate.”
“Close enough.”
“I’ll listen to you. I owe you that much. You’ve come all this way to rescue us.”
“I came for you.”
And now my anger rose, because something in those words moved me, although I disliked the feeling. A breeze blew a strand of hair into my face, and, before I could to fix it, he reached out. “You mustn’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Let’s go back. They’re wondering what happened to us.” I began to walk away, but the weight of unspoken words lingered. The confusion of being near Daniel had grown even more pronounced. “Are you coming?”
“I’ve been patient for years,” he murmured. “I can wait another day.”
“Pardon?”
Grasping the rifle, he strode towards me. “We’ll talk by the fire.”
He had been dejected, but now he seemed confident again, which perplexed me to no end. I followed him, walking a few steps behind. I felt far more secure than before with someone stronger among us, and the weapon. The woods weren’t nearly as frightening now. I was immensely grateful for this.
Anna glanced at me with curiosity, as I sat next to her. “Are you getting along?” She grinned mischievously. “I didn’t hear a shot.”
“Shush.”
“Shall I gather more firewood?” Daniel eyed the blaze. “This will do for now, but we need more wood later. The fire will keep the animals at bay.”
“I can help with that.” Jacob had been chewing on a thin stick. “I gotta use the privy anyway.”
“You ladies stay here. We’ll be back shortly.”
“Yes, Daniel,” murmured Anna. When they had gone, she said, “He’s taken charge.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say to you?”
“We argued. He wants to know why I loathe him.”
“Of course he does.”
“This isn’t funny, Anna. You know why I could never seriously consider that man for anything. He’s not a nice person.”
“His behavior that day was not nice. He had one bad day, Rebekah. We all have bad days.”
“But … it showed his character. It exposed a rather nasty side of him I don’t like.”
“Maybe he learned something from what he did. You should speak to him about it. Now’s the perfect opportunity to ask him whatever you wish. There’s a reason we’ve all been thrown together. You don’t think his finding us was an accident, do you?”
“I’m being punished,” I said miserably. “God’s punishing me.”
She giggled, “I doubt that. “You like him.”
Stunned, I glared at her. “Absolutely not!”
“There’s some part of you that likes him. Admit it, Rebekah. Your mind hates him, but your heart’s not immune. You kept those flowers.”
“I threw them out the window.”
“Then you pressed them in a book.”
I gasped. “H-how do you know that?”
She smiled slyly. “You can’t hide anything from me.”
“I hate spies,” I mumbled. “I can’t wait to have my own home, where I’m not watched like a hawk. Human beings need privacy, you know.”
“I just find your reactions interesting. I’ve been watching you my whole life.”
“Well, yes. We’re in the same family. We share a bedroom.”
“That’s true, but, out of everyone, I love you the best. I feel closest to you.”
That warmed my heart. “I love you too, Anna.” My arm went around her neck. “You’re my one and true confidant.”
“I’ll always keep your secrets.”
“I know. I’ll keep yours, but you’re an angel, so you have no secrets.” Her laughter filled my ears.
“It’s not a crime to like someone you want to hate. You’re torn and conflicted, but now’s the time to find out why. You can ask Daniel whatever you wish. He wants to talk to you.”
“Don't you think him terrible for what he’s done? I know you abhor that sort of behavior. Why would you defend him?”
“I don't defend him. I just … think he needs to explain himself. I want to know if he’s learned anything from the past. There are things at play here we don’t know about. You witnessed something disturbing, but we don’t know what happened after. Perhaps, he’s apologized to the injured party.”
“I’ve heard nothing.”
“Nor have I.” Daniel and Jacob returned, their arms full of branches. “Now’s your chance to ask. He’s with us for the night, whether we like it or not.”
Daniel had overheard this; his eyes lingered on me.
“I doubt I’ll feel differently,” I said. “My mind’s made up.” He snapped a long branch over his knee, his look darkening. “But … if he’s so determined, he may speak.”
Chapter Ten
Daniel sat across from us, while Jacob tended to the fire, using branches to move other branches into a more advantageous position. The blaze added light and warmth to our surrounds, while crickets serenaded us from the underbrush. I felt safe tonight … but conflicted. The evening was upon us now, but I did not know what would happen. I would have to discuss the past in front of my siblings.
“Daniel?” I stared at him, wondering why he didn’t speak. “Go on. Tell me about what happened that day at the school yard.”
“What did you see?” He sat with his arms over his knees.
“Everything.”
He grimaced, staring at his hands. “When was that? Eight years ago?”
“Yes. I was ten.”
“That made me thirteen.” After a lengthy pause, I wondered if he would go on. He stared absently into the fire, while it crackled and popped. “I was a child, Rebekah.”
“No. You were mostly grown up.” Everything had been seen through the eyes of a ten-year-old, as that had been my age, but even then I knew right from wrong.
“I know what you’re getting at. It doesn’t excuse my behavior. What happened that day had been building for weeks, months even. I don’t know how it all started, but my friends and I thought it fun to tease Oliver Hostetter. Such a thing wasn’t right or nice, but we were young and wild and we didn’t care.”
Jacob sat near Daniel, keeping an eye on the flames, while listening silently.
“Let’s talk about the Hostetters,” said Daniel. “The family was poor, even by our standards. You look at the clothes you wear now, and, although you’ve torn them, they’re new and finely made. They never wore new clothes or shoes, even going barefoot most of the year. They were singled out and made fun of by not only me, but others. The children in that family were thin and sickly, the mother often bedridden.”
I remembered this, because we had been asked to help whenever the father became ill, cleaning the house and barn and tending to the animals, while he recovered. Mam spoke about how unfortunate their lives were and how they frequently needed help, which they received.
“Why is it the weak are picked on?” mused Daniel. “I spoke with Oliver on occasion, even offering him food, because I felt badly for him, but then … I’d torment him with my friends.” He stared into the fire, his eyes fixed.
“What happened that day?” I asked.
“It was … like a
ny other day, but worse, to be sure. We picked on Oliver most of the morning. I remember he smelled poorly, like feces. I don’t know if he was ill or if his clothing was dirty. We could barely tolerate to sit behind him in school, but then … we vented our resentment after.” He gazed at me. “I want you to know I’ve confessed this to the bishop. I admitted all my wrongdoings before my baptism. It was essential I clear my conscience.”
Anger prickled. “How fortunate for you. You treat someone worse than a barnyard animal, but your mind is free now.”
“Rebekah,” admonished Anna. “This is a matter between Daniel and no one else. We may not like what happened, but if he’s confessed before the Order, than that’s his concern.”
“Fine. I need not hear another word then.”
“But you do, because I want to explain what happened.”
“I know what happened.”
“You hate me.”
“I don’t like who you are.”
“You judge me by this one instance, an event I’m deeply ashamed of. I took part in that poor boy’s beating, and I regretted it then, as I regret it now. I’ve had to live with it, with knowing I behaved wrongly.”
Memories flooded. They had been behind the school, while I waited for Anna to speak to the teacher, loitering in boredom. I had heard a cry, and I went to investigate, finding a group of boys shouting. They surrounded Oliver Hostetter, kicking and hitting him, while he bled from the mouth, his eyes wild with fear. Daniel had hoisted him up by his galluses, causing him pain, while several boys took that opportunity to throw their fists at his thin, pale body.
And then he had seen me.
“It was not my proudest moment.”
I remembered screaming at them to stop. The boys turned towards me, laughing, while Oliver struggled and bled, his feet bare and dirty. They had ceased their torment, Daniel releasing him, although he could hardly look at me. He knew what he had done was wrong.
“I remember all that,” I said softly. “I wish I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry for what I did. I was sorry while I was doing it.”
“Yet you did it.”
“Yes. I have no excuse. I’m guilty.”
Jacob asked, “Whatever happened to the Hostetters? They don’t belong to the district anymore, do they?”
Thrown to the Wolves (The Faith in Peril Trilogy) Page 10