The Betrayal

by Beverly Lewis

  Aunt Lizzie nodded, removing her wet prayer bonnet. ‘‘I have to say I do miss her perty smile.’’

  ‘‘And I think Mamma does, too.’’

  ‘‘A cheerful countenance comes from the joy of the Lord God rising up from one’s heart.’’

  Leah wasn’t surprised at this remark. Aunt Lizzie often spoke of the Holy One of Israel as if He were a close friend or relative. ‘‘What more can we do?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘Nothin’ short of haulin’ Sadie off to the preacher or the deacon, I s’pose.’’ Aunt Lizzie’s face dropped with her own words. ‘‘ ’Tis awful frustratin’.’’

  ‘‘Honestly . . . I never would’ve promised to keep mum if I’d thought Sadie would remain stubborn for this long.’’

  For a time Lizzie was silent. ‘‘Your sister would never trust you again. And she might not forgive me, neither.’’

  ‘‘We can’t just let Sadie lose her way. Can we, Aunt Lizzie?’’

  ‘‘Indeed. Seems to me somethin’s got to break loose here ’fore long. Either that or she’ll make a run for it.’’

  Leah gasped. ‘‘Sadie would leave?’’

  ‘‘I’m afraid it was my idea. Last year I’d suggested a visit to Ohio might do her good, but I fear now she might never return.’’

  Leah felt limp all over. She didn’t know what to make of it. Sadie hadn’t mentioned a word.

  Aunt Lizzie continued. ‘‘I pleaded with her to stay put until at least your wedding. Perhaps by then she’ll come to her senses. I pray so.’’ She rose and went to the window. ‘‘I’ve talked to her till my breath is nearly all . . . to no avail. Still, I won’t stop beseechin’ the Lord God heavenly Father for her.’’

  A stark silence followed, and Leah was mindful of the calm outside, as well. The summer shower had passed.

  Chapter Three

  The ground was soggy beneath their bare feet when Leah and Lizzie left the safety of the hunter’s shack to hike down the hill toward home. Birds warbled a chorus of gladness, and the overcast sky steadily brightened as the sun finally succeeded in peeking out of the slow-moving gray clouds.

  Lizzie put her nose up and sniffed. ‘‘Does the air smell sweet to you after a shower?’’

  Leah inhaled the clean, mintlike scent. ‘‘We could stand to have moisture like this every single day from now till Jonas and I . . .’’

  Lizzie offered a gentle smile. ‘‘Well, go on, Leah dear. I can keep quiet about your weddin’ plans. You can trust me with the day Jonas will take you as his bride.’’

  ‘‘Jah, I would, but . . . well,’’ she sputtered a bit.

  Lizzie must have sensed the awkwardness and attempted to smooth things over promptly. ‘‘What do you ’spect we’ll do ’bout all that parched celery, honey-girl? You and your mamma will have a whole houseful of folk to feed at the weddin’ feast, with no celery.’’

  Mamma’s celery stalks had been looking altogether pathetic, what with the intense heat and lack of precipitation, even with the additional hand watering they’d been doing lately.

  Leah spoke up. ‘‘Maybe Fannie Mast’s vegetable patch is farin’ better than ours.’’ She could only hope that was true, although with infant twins, Mamma’s first-cousin Fannie would be hard-pressed to keep her one-acre garden going without help from daughters Rebekah, sixteen, and Katie, thirteen, and occasionally nine-year-old Martha.

  Aunt Lizzie pushed ahead on the unmarked path, Leah following close behind, aware of the People’s whispered tittletattle surrounding the wedding tradition of serving celery.

  Taking a long breath, she held it a moment before letting the air out. ‘‘Mamma says it’s, uh . . . necessary for the young couple to eat plenty of celery at their weddin’ feast.’’

  ‘‘For the sake of fruitfulness,’’ Aunt Lizzie replied over her shoulder. ‘‘The Lord God put every plant—vegetable, fruit, and herb—on the earth for a purpose. Some have healin’ properties, others aid in digestion and, well . . . getting young couples off to a right good start, ya know.’’

  And that was the closet thing to a lesson on the birds and bees she knew she’d be getting from either Aunt Lizzie or Mamma. Of course, Sadie could easily fill her in to high heaven if she chose to, but Leah didn’t care to ask. Not the way Sadie had gotten the cart long before the horse. Better to discover such things later, after Leah belonged to Jonas and he to her in the sight of the Lord God.

  They had reached the place where something of a meandering dirt path appeared, descending into a grassy area with less underbrush to tangle one’s bare feet. Lizzie’s small house was in sight at last, up ahead on the left. This corner of God’s green earth had a pungent fragrance, and its pleasantness made Leah suddenly think of Mamma—and an earlymorning promise Leah had made. ‘‘Ach, I nearly forgot.’’

  Lizzie turned quickly. ‘‘Forgot what?’’

  ‘‘Mamma’s expectin’ me home.’’

  ‘‘Well, then, mustn’t keep her waitin’. . . .’’

  Leah glanced at the sky. ‘‘We’re going to bake up a batch of cherry pies . . . then after a bit Dat will be needin’ me at milkin’ time.’’

  ‘‘You’ll have to come visit me again soon.’’

  Nodding, she said she would. ‘‘Or . . . better yet, why don’t you come down tonight and have a piece of my pie? I’m determined for it to taste wonderful-gut.’’

  ‘‘You’ll do just fine. And when your dessert turns out to be ever so delicious, we’ll compare notes, jah?’’

  ‘‘Mamma scarcely ever writes down recipes, you know. It’s all up here.’’ Leah tapped her head.

  ‘‘Your mamma’s one of the best cooks round here. She takes the cake, now, don’t she?’’ Lizzie said, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Sadie’s unwillingness to repent seemed to tinge nearly everything.

  Leah hugged her, then broke free and headed on down the mule road toward home, turning briefly to wave to her dear aunt. But Lizzie was already gone.

  Ida had been standing at the open window upstairs, having put the baby down for an early afternoon nap. Grateful for the coolness after the rain, she stepped back to allow a breeze into the bedroom. She could clearly see Leah up there in the woods, waving a fond good-bye to Lizzie. Then, here she came, bounding almost deerlike out of the trees as her long skirt swept the damp ground.

  What’s my sister filling Leah’s head with today? she wondered, suspecting the pair had gone walking together, picking wild flowers, making a fuss over every little plant and animal. That was Lizzie’s way—always had been. She was bent on soaking up every inch of the woodlands, introducing each of Ida’s girls to the vast world of flora and fauna. Sadie had been spending all kinds of time up at Lizzie’s during the past few months. Nearly all summer, really, until just the past week or so. More recently, Lizzie had singled Leah out.

  She supposed Lizzie had every right to spend her spare time with whomever she pleased, but it irked her to no end. Truly, she wished Lizzie might keep her nose out of Abram’s and her family’s business. Lizzie and Peter Mast both. They’d all lived this long just fine. Some things were best left unsaid.

  She exhaled sharply and headed downstairs, refusing to dwell on her fears for another minute. In the kitchen she laid out the flour, sugar, and all the necessary ingredients for the mouthwatering pies. As she did she thought ahead to the next Preaching service to be held here this weekend. Two hundred and more church members would come from a four-squaremile radius to gather where Abram’s own father—the respected Bishop Ebersol—had raised this stone house as a shelter for his family and as a house of worship amongst the People. Hopefully, by then Lizzie’s urgency could be put to rest. Ida made a mental note to talk with Abram about it once again.

  Sadie, with a bucket of soapy water in hand, set about to wash down the bedroom walls, helping Mamma cleanse the house as was their custom, creating a holy place for the Sunday Preaching. ‘‘Might as well get a head start on some heavy cleanin’,’’ she’d told Mamma at th
e noon meal.

  ‘‘ ’Tis a gut thing to make hay while the sun shines, too,’’ Mamma had said in passing, somewhat inattentive.

  Sadie was relieved to have the afternoon alone. Her twin sisters were downstairs dusting, sweeping, washing floors, and whatnot. These days it was best on her nerves to have absolute solitude, though that was next to impossible with seven people in the house. She had been suffering such a peculiar dull ache up and down her forearms, confiding it only to Aunt Lizzie earlier this summer.

  What a surprise to discover Lizzie’s remedy was to carry around a five-pound sack of potatoes, much the size of a wee babe. Lo and behold, when she did so, Sadie found it truly eased her pain. Accordingly, she clasped the potatoes quite often and ever so gently while spending time at Lizzie’s away from Mamma’s eyes.

  Aside from frequent walks up to Lizzie’s place, Sadie preferred to spend her ‘‘alone’’ hours cleaning for Mamma or hoeing and weeding the vegetable garden, along with visits next door to the Dawdi Haus to chat with Dawdi John.

  Today she wholeheartedly threw herself into her work, stepping back now and again to see if she’d covered every square inch of the light gray walls. The bedroom windows were next on her list of things to do. She’d already decided to wash them single-handedly. No need asking for help from Hannah and Mary Ruth, not when they had plenty to keep them occupied downstairs. As for Leah, she’d hurried out the back door and headed up toward the mule road, as if going to visit Aunt Lizzie.

  But Sadie was schmaerder. It didn’t take much effort to figure out Leah these days. All of them assumed she was going off to the woods to write to her beau. Just so she kept her promise and didn’t reveal Sadie’s wild rumschpringe to Jonas Mast. Both Leah and Lizzie had vowed to keep quiet, but Sadie had heard recently that her former sidekick, Naomi Kauffman, was said to be weary of flirting with the world. She was even taking baptismal instruction right along with Leah, preparing to join church. Of all things!

  Sadie didn’t appreciate Naomi setting herself up as ‘‘holier than thou,’’ which she certainly seemed to think she was here lately. And why? Just because she’d been far more careful than Sadie—or plain lucky—and hadn’t gotten caught. Besides, Naomi’s unexpected turn had more to do with Luke Bontrager, who was awful sweet on her, than most anything else. Of this Sadie was fairly sure.

  If Naomi was to become the bride of the bishop’s grandson, she had some fast confessing to do. Now, wasn’t that a howdy-do? It was all fine and dandy for Naomi to make amends, turn her life around, and plan for a future as an upstanding young woman, so long as she kept Sadie out of it. Hopefully, Naomi didn’t know the half about Sadie’s fling, but what did she know? And if she started spilling the beans, what then? After all, Naomi had continued to see Derry’s friend Melvin Warner after that first meeting at the Strasburg café. Derry had told Sadie this on several occasions, and she assumed it was true.

  When Sadie was finished with the three upstairs bedrooms, she moved to the hallway and commenced to do the same—washing down walls, scrubbing mopboards, and mashing a few stray spiders as she went. Her thoughts flew to Aunt Lizzie as she worked. The past few weeks, Sadie had been discouraged. Not only had her aunt changed her mind and become adamant about her staying put, Lizzie was now saying she didn’t think Sadie needed a change of scenery after all.

  ‘‘Don’t you see?’’ Lizzie had insisted. ‘‘Your father’s covering and blessing are mighty important. If you would but confess to Preacher and the membership, you’d be pardoned by the People.’’ Aunt Lizzie went on to quote her favorite Scripture. ‘‘ ‘Godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation . . . but the sorrow of the world worketh death.’ ’’

  Obliged to listen, Sadie felt hot under the bonnet when Aunt Lizzie talked so pointedly.

  Chapter Four

  Too warm to stay indoors a second longer, Mary Ruth stepped outside for a breather on the back stoop. King, the German shepherd puppy, came scampering across the yard to greet Leah. Her skirt was mud spattered as she stooped to pet the dog, a curious yet kindly gift from Gid Peachey last spring. Observing this, Mary Ruth smiled as Leah hurried toward the house, the dog panting as he followed close on her heels.

  ‘‘Hullo, Mary Ruth. I missed you!’’ Leah said.

  Mary Ruth hoped Leah wouldn’t go running off to help Dat. Not when she had a question to ask. ‘‘Didja get caught in the rain?’’

  Leah’s face reddened. ‘‘No . . . I found shelter.’’

  Sighing, Mary Ruth decided not to beat round the bush. ‘‘Does it bother you that Dat doesn’t approve of you marryin’ Jonas?’’

  Leah seemed a bit startled by the question, but she met Mary Ruth’s gaze with a gentle smile. ‘‘Does it bother you?’’

  Pausing there, Mary Ruth was aware of Leah’s sweetness once again . . . her fine hazel eyes with tiny gold flecks, the dark curve of her long lashes, the way her expression seemed to radiate trustfulness, even goodness. Yet Leah was intent on ignoring Dat’s wishes in order to become Jonas Mast’s bride. None of it added up.

  ‘‘Doesn’t bother me in the least,’’ she replied at last. ‘‘I’m just tryin’ to understand.’’

  Leah burst into a full smile. ‘‘That’s what makes you so special. You have a gift of understanding, I daresay.’’

  Mary Ruth couldn’t help herself; she actually choked a little and tears welled up. ‘‘Much good that does me . . .’’

  Leah was staring now, wearing a concerned frown. ‘‘What is it, Mary Ruth? Why are you cryin’?’’

  ‘‘Just thinkin’, I guess.’’ She forged ahead and stuck her neck out. ‘‘I hope you’ll follow your heart. Have the courage to marry the boy you love.’’

  Leah’s eyelids fluttered. ‘‘Didja think I might not?’’

  Turning quickly, Mary Ruth looked over her shoulder, toward the barn. ‘‘Dat, well . . . he’s made it mighty clear here lately that it’s Gideon Peachey who’s the right beau for you. He’s said as much to all of us.’’

  ‘‘Dat has?’’

  ‘‘He said ‘if only Leah knew Gid the way I know him.’ Things like that. And he said he was weary of keepin’ it to himself any longer—after these many years.’’

  ‘‘Jah, I know that to be true, the years he’s stewed about it.’’

  She felt she ought to say one more thing. ‘‘Mamma’s not so much in favor of Gid, though. Just so you know.’’

  ‘‘You sure?’’

  ‘‘Mamma prefers Jonas, seems to me.’’ Now she struggled to keep a straight face. ‘‘She thinks your children will be mighty handsome if you marry into the Mast family.’’

  ‘‘And why’s that?’’

  ‘‘Jonas has a right fine nose. Gut-lookin’ all round, he is.’’ Mary Ruth sighed. ‘‘I don’t mean to say Smithy Gid isn’t handsome. He’s just more rugged lookin’, I guess you could say. Whereas Jonas is—’’ ‘‘Both handsome and strong—in body and mind? Is that what you mean?’’ Leah had her now, and her sister’s eyes shone as if with glee. Sadie and Mamma sometimes grew weary of Mary Ruth’s too-talkative nature, but Leah never seemed to mind.

  Leah continued. ‘‘When it comes to certain things, no matter how defiant a choice might seem to others, if you know in your heart you were meant for somethin’—or someone— then, I believe, ’tis best to be true to that.’’

  ‘‘You mean it?’’

  Leah nodded. ‘‘I’ve seen how you throw yourself into your schoolwork. You’re a scholar, ain’t? When the time comes, you’ll have the courage to make the right decision. You’ll simply have to put your hand to the plow and refuse to look back.’’

  Mary Ruth’s emotions threatened to overtake her again. ‘‘You’re a true sister and friend, Leah,’’ she managed through her tears.

  ‘‘Always remember that.’’ Leah smiled, reaching to hug her.

  Sadie headed toward the kitchen for a glass of cold water, so awful hot it was upstairs. But before she stepped foot in there,
she happened to overhear Leah talking to Mamma as they baked pies. Leah was saying she and Aunt Lizzie had taken shelter in a little hunter’s shack on the hillock that morning. ‘‘The place was old and run-down like nothing you’ve ever seen,’’ Leah said softly. ‘‘Right peculiar, I must say. Up there in the middle of nowhere, but it kept us safe and dry till the rain passed.’’

  Sadie felt her throat constrict. Anguished memories rushed back and she was helpless to stop them. For all she cared, the shanty was good for one thing and only one: kindling.

  Leah was frowning at Sadie now, catching her eye. ‘‘What? Did I say somethin’ wrong?’’

  Himmel! she thought, not realizing how far she’d inched herself into the kitchen. There she was, standing in the doorway listening, evidently with a pained expression on her face. ‘‘Aw . . . no,’’ she gasped. ‘‘I guess I’m surprised both you and Aunt Lizzie got caught in such a cloudburst, that’s all. Usually, Lizzie can tell by smellin’ the air if rain’s a-comin’.’’ She paused momentarily, then—‘‘Looks to me like the bottom of your hem got awful grimy on your way back home.’’

  Leah looked down at herself and seemed to agree she was in need of a good scrubbing. ‘‘But it won’t do to wash up and change clothes now.’’ She thanked Mamma for such helpful pointers with the pies, saying she hoped they tasted as good as they smelled, then scurried off toward the barn.

  Sadie briefly followed after Leah. She stood in the open back door, staring out through the screen. She caught a glimpse of the bottom of her sister’s bare feet as she ran to the barn. Milking the cows was something Sadie knew little about. Sure, she’d helped Dat here and there occasionally, but only in a pinch. Yet with Leah’s wedding coming up soon, Sadie was worried sick she might have to take her tomboy sister’s place outdoors with Dat. She was fond enough of her father, but there was no way she was willing to do the kind of dirty work Leah did—and cheerfully at that. Besides, she ought to have been marrying first.

  Mamma broke the stillness. ‘‘Sadie, would you mind changin’ Lydiann’s diaper?’’