The Betrayal

by Beverly Lewis

  ‘‘What’s so important we have to walk clear away from the barn?’’

  ‘‘Your sister, that’s what. Sadie took her baptism last year with an impure heart. If Bishop Bontrager knew of it, well, she’d be shunned for certain—at least the temporary Bann.’’

  The words sprang to life in Leah, smarting her eyes. ‘‘Impure?’’

  ‘‘Sadie had herself an English boyfriend.’’

  ‘‘I don’t like what you’re sayin’.’’ She had to speak up. She couldn’t just go along with Adah, yet she didn’t want to let on she already knew.

  ‘‘I’m only tellin’ you in hopes you can talk sense to Sadie. Help her see the light before Naomi goes to Preacher with this.’’

  Leah’s heart sank. ‘‘What do you want me to do?’’

  ‘‘Talk openly, sister to sister. Let her know what Naomi’s threatenin’ to do.’’

  Leah sighed loudly. ‘‘What if Sadie won’t cooperate?’’

  ‘‘Just try, Leah. For the sake of your family . . . and to spare Sadie eternal punishment.’’

  Leah looked now at Adah. She began to wonder if Adah wasn’t actually relieved her precious brother was not romantically connected to the Ebersol family.

  High above them, in trees silhouetted against a dark sky, whippoorwills called from unseen branches, and Leah felt sudden despair. The thing she had greatly feared had come to pass. Sadie had been found out. Just how much Naomi knew, she had no idea. But she intended to worm it out of her.

  In a few minutes’ time, she and Adah had walked all the way to the brink of the forest. Without speaking, they turned and stood there, looking down over the Ebersol Cottage, as Leah liked to call her father’s house. In the near distance she spotted a single upstairs window aglow—Sadie’s and her bedroom— where her bold and surly sister sat alone contemplating her Lord’s Day misbehavior.

  Meanwhile, their two-story bank barn was alive with light and music. Lightning bugs blinked yellow-white sparkles here and there over the field and beyond to the Peachey farm, making Leah think sadly of Smithy Gid. What a good thing he’d stayed at home and let his sister go it alone to singing this night. Indeed.

  ‘‘Won’tcha come to the singing with me, please?’’ Adah asked.

  ‘‘I’m not dressed for it,’’ she said.

  Adah looked her over, brushing Leah’s apron off. ‘‘There, now.’’

  Her dear friend’s pleading eyes tugged at her heart. ‘‘S’pose I could go with you, but only for a little bit.’’

  ‘‘Wonderful-gut!’’ Adah’s face lit up and she reached for Leah’s hand, and the two of them went running down the mule road toward the barn.

  Gid caught himself breaking into a full grin, having just now spotted Leah Ebersol and his sister Adah come strolling into the barn, hand in hand. And just when he was starting to wish he’d stayed home to frisk with his new litter of German shepherd puppies. Soon he would be advertising again by word of mouth—the way he liked to, since it took nothing away from his growing savings account—letting folks know his full-bred pups were weaned and ready to purchase. His father had mentioned not two days before that he was well pleased with the amount of money Gid had saved over the past few years, thanks to the thriving side business. Gid would have liked to be looking to marry before too long, though the girl he really wanted to court was Abram’s Leah, who was all caught up with a beau clear out in Ohio. Just what was Jonas Mast thinking, learning the carpentry trade? Gid wondered. But it wasn’t his place to question. He knew there had been talk amongst the brethren—and this had come straight from his own pop—that Bishop Bontrager didn’t take too kindly to young men who chose to make their way by doing something other than farming. Working the soil was the expected way in the eyes of the People. Anything else was ‘‘mighty English.’’ Besides, there was ample farmland in Lancaster County.

  Gid slowed his pace, hoping to appear relaxed as he approached Leah and Adah, who were talking off by themselves. Not wanting to barge in—he did and he didn’t—he hoped to make Leah feel comfortable with his presence. Yet what was she doing here, where the singing activities were meant for coupling up? Surely Leah and Jonas Mast were secretly engaged by now. But that was anyone’s guess . . . at least up until the second Sunday after fall communion, when the deacon named each couple in the district who planned to marry during the wedding season. After the publishing, Abram Ebersol would stand and invite everyone sixteen and older to the wedding, also announcing the day and month.

  Gid had long thought he might have some reason for staying away from church that day. Wouldn’t think of putting on like he was ill, though. Although, if he thought on it long enough, he could be. But he would try to put on a smile for the Ebersols, no matter what inner turmoil he would battle that day. Because wedding or not, Abram and his family were mighty special in his book.

  ‘‘Hullo, Leah . . . and Adah.’’ He stopped a few feet from them, forcing his gaze on his sister and away from Leah, who always seemed to draw his eyes to hers. How was it a girl could wear her sweet spirit on her face? It had always been that way with Leah.

  ‘‘Oh, Gid, you’re here!’’ Adah said, letting go of Leah’s hand and gripping his arm.

  He felt his face flush red. ‘‘I decided to come over at the last minute.’’

  Adah turned to Leah. ‘‘Same as you did, Leah,’’ his sister declared, eyes sparkling.

  ‘‘Oh, Adah . . . for goodness’ sake.’’ Leah turned from Adah and looked at him, smiling pleasantly, not flirtatiously.

  ‘‘I came to keep your sister company, is all,’’ she said.

  ‘‘ ’Twas my idea, for sure,’’ Adah agreed.

  ‘‘Well, I’m glad you’re both here.’’ Their talk quickly turned to King, Leah’s dog, and it seemed she considered him a devoted pet.

  ‘‘Dat likes having King round, too,’’ Leah stated. ‘‘He’s even said it might be nice to have one or two more dogs.’’

  Adah brightened again. ‘‘Really?’’

  Leah was nodding. ‘‘Dat thinks havin’ dogs on the property keeps outsiders honest.’’

  ‘‘Not that he distrusts the English, I don’t s’pose,’’ Gid spoke up. He knew Abram well enough to know better.

  Leah shrugged. ‘‘Dat sometimes worries over us girls . . . bein’ there’s only one man to do the protectin’.’’ She must have suddenly caught herself, realizing what she’d said, because she looked quickly at Adah and turned too rosy in the cheeks.

  Gid stepped closer and found himself forming a circle with the two of them. He thought he smelled a hint of homemade soap—probably Adah, who’d cleaned up right good for the evening. Still, there was a unique freshness about Leah, the way her eyes shone with joy, her surprising openness. She was as confident as any girl he knew; not shy at all, nor too frank like one of the girls here from the Grasshopper Level area. He hadn’t seen her, but some of the fellows had said Jonas Mast’s spunky sister Rebekah was in attendance, along with three other girls from that district. ‘‘Bold Becky’’ had shown up tonight to one of her first singings since she’d turned sixteen. He was careful not to concentrate too hard on Leah, dividing his attention between both her and Adah . . . though it was mighty difficult.

  Chapter Ten

  Monday morning after completing her milking duties, Leah hurried off on foot to pay a visit to Naomi Kauffman.

  Arriving at Kauffmans’ dairy farm, she hurried across the barnyard to the milk house. There she found Naomi looking mighty surprised to see her. ‘‘I hope you don’t mind me comin’ so early.’’

  ‘‘Leah, what is it? Something happen over at your place?’’

  ‘‘Everything’s just fine.’’ She paused. ‘‘I have to talk to you.’’ She went on to share in whispered tones what Adah had confided last night. ‘‘I’m worried sick ’bout Sadie—what might become of her if you . . . well, if you go to Preacher before she has a chance to repent on her own.’’

  ‘‘She’s
had plenty of time, wouldn’t you say? Nearly a year’s passed since she started spendin’ time with her worldly beau. And what’s worse, she kept seein’ him after she was baptized. I know she did ’cause Melvin Warner, Derry’s English friend, told me so. ’Course, now, I was wild, too, ’cept not thinkin’ on bein’ baptized . . . not till recently.’’ Naomi took a deep breath. ‘‘I just don’t understand how Sadie could tempt the Lord God thataway. And she never made things right with the church brethren, neither.’’ Naomi looked at her with stony eyes. ‘‘Has she confessed these things to you?’’

  Leah couldn’t lie . . . not before God and her fellow baptismal candidate. ‘‘It’s a touchy subject, the rumschpringe . . . so private it is, you know.’’

  ‘‘Which is why Dat’s been talkin’ to Preacher Yoder and others about doin’ away with it. Goodness’ sake, I nearly got myself in a fix. Sadie and I . . . we went together clear up to Strasburg, seekin’ out fancy fellas. We were narrisch—crazy. Truly we were.’’

  ‘‘You don’t have to come clean to me, Naomi. You’ve repented to God and Preacher, as we all must.’’

  ‘‘Then, will you urge Sadie to do the same? Plead with her to go to the brethren.’’

  ‘‘Why, so you won’t have to?’’

  ‘‘Ach no, but ain’t it true if a person knows of sin and doesn’t encourage the sinner to own up . . . well then, they may be found to be just as guilty?’’

  Leah hated to think she, as well as Aunt Lizzie, was at fault right along with Sadie. Oh, they’d made futile attempts to get Sadie to express regret, pushing for her to at least tell Mamma what she’d done. Jointly and separately they’d done so, till they were blue in the face. But Leah couldn’t reveal any of this to Naomi. It would never do to let her in on the fact that Leah had known all this for a long time.

  ‘‘Jah, I’ll do my best talkin’ to my sister,’’ Leah promised. ‘‘I’ll tell her what you said. Or you could tell her yourself. Might be a gut thing for her to witness how you’ve turned your back on the world and all.’’

  Naomi nodded. ‘‘Still, if she isn’t willin’ to ask for forgiveness, then I won’t have any choice but to—’’

  ‘‘Talk to your beau’s grandfather?’’

  Naomi blushed. ‘‘Has nothin’ to do with Luke and me.’’

  ‘‘Well, I surely hope not.’’

  Squaring her shoulders, Naomi continued. ‘‘Listen, Leah, I’m bein’ truthful with you. I couldn’t live with my conscience if I didn’t speak to someone. Don’t you see? I want to present myself as a living sacrifice and follow the Lord Jesus in holy baptism with a pure heart.’’

  Leah agreed. ‘‘Just as I do.’’

  So it was settled. Sadie’s my sister, after all, she thought.

  Sadie would have one short month to offer atonement to her parents and, if she was willing, the church.

  At half past ten in the morning, the postman delivered the mail. Leah ran down the lane, eager to hear from Jonas. Just as she expected, there was a new letter from Millersburg.

  Tearing the envelope open, she began to read.

  My dearest Leah,

  You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers! Just think, one month from now I’ll hold you in my arms again. While I’m there for baptism, let’s you and I talk over where we plan to live. We could have a look-see at the rental house you wrote about earlier.

  Today as I worked in the carpentry shop, I had an interesting idea. I hope you might consider it. I realize there must have been an important reason for you to remain in Gobbler’s Knob through the summer. But now, here we are in the middle of August, and I’d like for us to be in the same town together, at least for our final weeks as a betrothed couple. I want to court you in person, Leah. My heart longs for your smile, your sweet face . . . your dear, dear ways.

  Let’s think seriously about the possibility of you coming back to Ohio with me after we join church. My final weeks away from home will be much easier with you close by. If necessary, I will write to your father to get his blessing on the matter . . . or, better yet, I’ll speak to him when I’m there.

  By the way, David Mellinger’s elderly mother, Edith, could benefit greatly from your help, if only for a short time. (They’re inviting you through me.) You can stay in the Dawdi Haus with Edith. What do you think of this?

  I’m also eager for you to meet the godly bishop here. The Scriptures have come alive for me—passages in the Bible I never knew existed. Here’s one I must share with you today. Second Corinthians chapter three, verse eighteen: ‘‘But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.’’

  Leah, if you read this verse over again, the amazing truth will sink deep into your heart. To think our lives can be mirrors of God’s goodness and grace, making it possible for others to see Christ Jesus reflected in us!

  I should sign off and prepare for a long and busy day. I’m holding my breath to see you again!

  All my love,

  Jonas

  She held the letter fondly, gladdened by his invitation. Jonas still wanted her to visit him in Ohio! She went to seek out Mamma with the news.

  Mamma was far more understanding than Leah expected. ‘‘That’s right nice of Jonas, but you’ll have to see what Dat says, ya know,’’ Mamma said, standing at the wood stove.

  ‘‘Do you mean you could be in favor of it? If Dat is willin’?’’ ‘‘Let’s just see what he says’’—Mamma’s parting words on the matter.

  She kissed her mother square on the cheek.

  Obviously pleased, Mamma reminded her the ‘‘decision remains with Dat, ya must know.’’

  ‘‘But still, I’m more hopeful ’cause of what you said.’’

  This time it was Mamma who kissed her, high on the forehead, right where her middle part commenced.

  Promptly Leah marched out to the barn, her heart in her throat, knowing full well what to predict from Dat. She found him caring for a nasty gash on the lower hindquarters of one of the mules. ‘‘Aw, the poor thing. You’ve got yourself some tendin’ to do.’’ She stood back a bit as Dat soothed the hurting animal.

  ‘‘Jah, but never too busy for my girl. What’s on your mind, Leah?’’

  That was just like Dat; he seemed to know her better than almost anyone. Now . . . how to say what was on her heart? Dare she risk Dat’s temper after his recent flare-up with Sadie? ‘‘I guess I don’t know where to start, really.’’

  He looked up from his squatting position. ‘‘If this concerns your aunt Lizzie, I’ll be blunt with you—I have no time for it. That’s all I best say.’’

  ‘‘Aunt Lizzie? Why, no . . . it’s about a letter from Jonas. Arrived just today.’’ She pressed on, shaking inwardly as she told him what Jonas had in mind. ‘‘I really want to do this, Dat. I wouldn’t risk annoying you if it didn’t mean ever so much to me.’’

  ‘‘You want to go an’ visit Millersburg before you’re married to Jonas?’’

  She explained she could stay with the master carpenter’s mother to help with the widow’s daily routine. ‘‘Jonas would reside where he is now, next door in the main farmhouse.’’

  ‘‘A bit too familiar for my likin’.’’

  ‘‘You know that would not be a concern.’’ She was hoping to rule out all roadblocks. ‘‘This could be a special time for Jonas and me.’’

  Abram turned away, lifting the mule’s leg, manipulating it back and forth. ‘‘I don’t see it that way,’’ Dat said quickly.

  She wanted to say, I’m not like Sadie, but bit her lip. Dat knew nothing of Sadie’s past. And besides, it wasn’t an issue of purity that seemed to irk him. He was just plain stubborn about preferring Gid Peachey.

  ‘‘It’s a closed subject,’’ Dat added. ‘‘Verschteh—understand?’’

  She didn’t dare argue with him. But she wanted to go to Ohio something awful. Breathing in hard, then exhal
ing, she turned and walked away, trying to keep still and not talk back. But she could hear Jonas’s earnest plea in the words he’d written. Loving words—the compassion of her future husband. Jonas wanted to spend time with his bride-to-be. What was wrong with that? After all this time they’d been apart . . .

  Suddenly she spun round and rushed back to the barn. ‘‘What if Jonas talks this over with you when he comes for baptism? Would that set better with you, Dat?’’ she entreated him, desperate for this one thing. ‘‘I scarcely ever ask for much, you know that. But this . . .’’

  Dat stood up just then and looked her full in the face. ‘‘My dear girl, how can you ever know what’s in the deep of my heart? You are precious to me . . . since the first day I laid eyes on you. Tiny little thing, you were. A helpless infant, bawlin’ your lungs out.’’

  She was nearly embarrassed at his tender words. ‘‘Dat?’’

  ‘‘No, now listen to me, Leah. You’re the light of my eyes, always have been.’’

  For goodness’ sake, Dat was being much too serious. She said, ‘‘I know you think of me more as a son than a—’’

  ‘‘No . . . no, you haven’t any idea.’’

  ‘‘Then, maybe . . . well, might you be willin’ to change your mind? Could you reconsider . . . just this once?’’ All their years working the mules in the field, tending to a multitude of barn chores—always together—told her he might listen. After all, she was Abram’s Leah, and she knew that, in his own stubborn way, he was attempting to save face. Known to be unyielding amongst the People, Dat wanted to give Leah what she most longed for. She was sure of it.

  Sighing, Dat removed his straw hat and raked his thick fingers through his cropped hair. ‘‘For how long did you say?’’

  ‘‘A month or so is all.’’

  ‘‘And you wouldn’t ever think of marryin’ anyone but this boy, your mamma’s cousin’s son?’’

  By now she couldn’t begin to utter a response. How she loved the darling boy of her childhood! Dat knew this. Why must he continually test me? she wondered.