Listening, she overheard the most startling words. Could it be? Ach no. Sadie was surely making up a story—a sordid one at that—just talking slow and soft to soothe Lydiann. To be sure, their baby sister had been awful fussy since she came into the world. A person might whisper most anything to quiet down a tot like that. Still, Hannah had not heard Lydiann cry out or fuss at all this morning, not since Mamma left. So what’s Sadie doing up here? she wondered.
Having listened in this long, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to stand here a bit more. The English customers out front would just have to wait their turn with Mary Ruth. She locked her knees and leaned her ear, but what came next shocked Hannah no end. Sadie was cooing to Lydiann, her voice trembling as she spoke of another infant, though dead. ‘‘He was my own baby boy. The result of the worst sin I ever committed, yet I loved him so.’’
Hannah began to wonder just when on earth was it Sadie had been in the family way? If any of what she was babbling was even true.
But Hannah had heard enough. More than she cared to, really, yet she stood there nearly frozen in place, contemplating the meaning of Sadie’s confession. Were Mamma and Aunt Lizzie privy to any of this? And what would Dat say or do if he knew? She could scarcely breathe at the thought.
Leah finished up with the chickens, gathering in the eggs before closing the door on their squawking. She hurried to the house as Mary Ruth came flying across the side yard. ‘‘It’s Sadie’s turn at the vegetable stand now,’’ Mary Ruth said hastily. ‘‘I’m plumb wore out.’’
‘‘Oh? What’s Sadie doing?’’
‘‘I thought you knew where she was,’’ Mary Ruth replied.
Leah had no desire to look for or exchange words with Sadie this morning. They’d said not a word to each other last evening as they undressed for bed. She must simply wait and pray Sadie would do the right thing.
She must not borrow trouble and worry over what might be. She turned her thoughts to Jonas. Time at last to write and tell him of her surprising chat with Dat, that her father’s heart had softened. She would head up to the woods, to her favorite spot in the sun. No need telling anyone where she was going, not with the day so bright and blue and not a cloud in the sky.
Hurrying upstairs, she bumped into Hannah, who looked rather pale in the face. ‘‘Are you ill?’’ Leah asked.
Hannah shook her head no.
‘‘Is Sadie around?’’
Hannah pointed meekly toward Mamma’s bedroom. ‘‘In there.’’
Leah turned to look just in time to see Sadie putting Lydiann down in the cradle. ‘‘What’s she doin’?’’ she whispered.
‘‘I wondered the same’’ came Hannah’s reply.
Well, wasn’t this an interesting turn of events? Sadie was tending to Lydiann without being asked. What does it mean? Leah wondered.
Leah turned to Hannah. ‘‘I’d like to talk with Sadie . . . alone.’’
Hannah nodded and headed down the steps.
Without delay, Leah went to Sadie, who was still staring down at Lydiann. ‘‘Sister?’’ she said, standing near.
Sadie’s cheeks were wet with tears.
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ Leah asked, touching her sister’s elbow.
Sadie sighed, casting her sad gaze downward. Soon she looked up, her lower lip trembling uncontrollably. ‘‘I’ve been trying, Leah. Honestly, I’ve been thinking through my kneeling confession, and I can’t do it.’’
For a moment Leah was at a loss for words. Sadie seemed unwavering in her decision. ‘‘Maybe later, then. Won’t you give yourself a bit more time?’’
‘‘I’m simply markin’ time now, waitin’ with no purpose,’’ Sadie replied. ‘‘Don’t you see? There’s no hope of a normal life for me here. Not anymore . . .’’
‘‘Oh, Sadie, that’s not true. You’re still grievin’ for your baby. Things will certainly get better. Won’t you reconsider?’’
‘‘Jah, things will be better, and soon, because I’m leavin’ home.’’
Such unexpected words made Leah feel queasy. ‘‘Leavin’? But . . . I’m gettin’ married soon. Won’t you be here for that special day?’’
‘‘I’m awful sorry, Leah . . . truly I am.’’ Sadie’s eyes glistened with more tears.
‘‘Where are you thinkin’ of going?’’
Sadie shrugged sadly. ‘‘Doesn’t matter really. Anywhere. Maybe I’ll set out on foot, then hitch a ride on the road.’’
Leah was horrified. ‘‘That’s too dangerous.’’
‘‘I just can’t wait anymore.’’ Sadie shook her head. ‘‘I thought I could stay put, but I can’t. Once Naomi goes to the preacher ’bout me, the ministers will demand penitence . . . and when I refuse, I’ll be shunned. What’s the point in stayin’ any longer?’’
Leah felt her throat close up. Yet she managed to ask, ‘‘Can’t you talk to our parents, at least?’’
‘‘And tell them what? Why I’m leavin’? That I had a baby out of wedlock and I can’t apologize to God?’’ Sadie looked over at Mamma’s pretty blue go-to-meeting dress, hanging on the wooden peg. ‘‘ ’Tis best I disappear.’’
Leah slipped her arm around her sister’s waist. ‘‘Would you wait at least another day or so?’’
Sadie looked pained. ‘‘Why? So you can tell everyone I’m goin’?’’
Leah shook her head. ‘‘I promise not to, truthfully.’’
Sadie seemed to give it some thought. ‘‘All right.’’ She sighed, her shoulders falling. ‘‘For you, I’ll wait a bit. I can trust you, Leah. You and Aunt Lizzie.’’
‘‘What about Dat and Mamma—you can trust them, too, ain’t?’’
‘‘Maybe, ’cept they hold fast to the Old Ways. They’ll never understand what’s in my heart.’’
Leah breathed deeply, still vexed. ‘‘You won’t just up and leave, then, not until we talk again?’’
Sadie consented. ‘‘I’ll say good-bye to you, jah. I promise.’’
Leah reached for her sister, who trembled in her arms. They clung to each other as Sadie quietly wept. How much time do I have left with her? she worried. If Sadie leaves, the Bann will separate us . . . possibly forever.
Sadie brushed away her tears and kissed Leah’s face. Then she headed out to help mind the vegetable stand.
Watching Sadie go, Leah recalled her plans to write to Jonas. Here, just a few moments before, she had been rejoicing with the good news she couldn’t wait to share with him, that she would see him soon. And now? Everything had been colored by her dismal conversation with Sadie.
But wasn’t her first responsibility to her beau? She had pledged her love and life to Jonas Mast. Sadie, on the other hand, was bent on making wrong choices, as seemed more evident with each day that passed.
Leah felt frustration toward her sister . . . yet at the same time, she felt ever so guilty for feeling so. Sadie had promised to stay for a few days longer, so perhaps Leah might have time to talk her out of running away. And if she couldn’t reason with Sadie, maybe, just maybe, Aunt Lizzie could. Although the determined look in Sadie’s eyes had frightened Leah no end.
Heaving a sigh, she headed down the hall to their bedroom, taking her best stationery pad and pen from her bureau drawer. Then she hurried back downstairs to the kitchen, where Hannah and Mary Ruth were busy scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees. ‘‘I’m goin’ for a quick walk,’’ Leah told them.
She dashed outside, looking toward the road as she went. She could now see that Sadie was busy with a customer. ’Tis gut, she thought, glad everyone was accounted for, especially Sadie.
She spied Aunt Lizzie near the barn, hitching a horse to the carriage. ‘‘Are you headed somewhere?’’ she called to her.
‘‘Over to Mattie Sue Byler’s for a canning frolic,’’ Lizzie said, smiling. ‘‘You?’’
She remembered her promise to Sadie and decided not to breathe a word. How many more times must I make such promises to that sister? Leah thought.
‘‘My morning chores are done, so I’m off to write a letter,’’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her stirred-up emotions.
Lizzie seemed to be in a hurry, but her eyes registered concern. ‘‘Watch closely for my tree markings, hear?’’
‘‘I know my way there and back.’’
‘‘For certain?’’
‘‘No need to fret over me,’’ she insisted. ‘‘I’ll return well before the noon meal.’’
‘‘All right, then.’’ Lizzie waved and tore down the lane, the horse going too fast for Leah’s liking.
Leah hiked up to the edge of the woods, eager to think about other things. This close to the end of August, she noticed the mornings felt cooler than even last week. Mary Ruth and Hannah would be starting school next Monday, the twenty-fifth. But today they would tidy up around the house, help weed the gardens, and maybe bake an apple dapple cake for supper. And they’d all be helping Mamma can plenty of pears and peaches this afternoon. Once she returned from writing her letter, she’d help Dat some, too, though it looked like Gid was already in the barn pitching hay to the mules.
Aunt Lizzie was right about these woods being daunting. The minute she stepped past the clearing and onto the densely treed hillock, she felt a foreboding, although it was probably just her distressed state of mind.
She looked for the first marked tree . . . there it was. The path led across furrows and hollows through the deepest brushwood. Then, when she reached a rather low summit, she caught glimpses of the horizon to the north, the blue of the sky like a wide ribbon woven through the trees.
She was alone. Not a single soul was within calling distance. Now she could sit beneath the honey locust tree and put aside her fear for Sadie. It was time to dwell on the fact Dat had said she could go to Ohio. Who would have thought it?
In this vast forest, she felt herself equal in smallness to the tiniest woodland creatures scurrying here and there as they sensed her presence. In the sight of the Lord God, was she like a little bird? A robin, a jay, a common wren? She understood from Dat’s big Bible that the Lord was in all places at once—everywhere present—and all-knowing and wise, too. Could He see into her heart and know the things that concerned her? Did He see Sadie’s sorrow, too?
She watched eagerly for the next tree marking, and the next, each put there so kindly by Aunt Lizzie. Walking quickly, she was eager to get to her spot, not taking time this day to pick up a pretty stone or a wild flower as she went.
At last she laid eyes on the enormous tree, a hint of yellow in the leaves welcoming her to the verdant place. Getting situated, she took a moment to orient herself, breathing in the rich, lovely scent of the forest. High in the canopy, squirrels leaped back and forth overhead and bees collected nectar.
She thought of Jonas’s descriptions of Millersburg and longed to see it for herself. He had written of Killbuck Creek and its wide creek bed and clear waters, scurrying over rock and limb until it ran smack-dab through town. All the familiar trappings of the area came alive for her in his words, including the Swiss cheese factory near Berlin and the old Victorian house in Millersburg, considered a mansion in every way. An old general store was situated across from the majestic courthouse, Jonas had said, with its ornate stone exterior and unusual clock at the top of a tall turret. The historic building was surrounded on all sides by formal, wellmanicured lawns, where courting couples liked to go and sit at dusk, ice-cream cones in hand. She assumed Jonas would take her there, too, when she went to visit him. Oh, if only the days till then would pass more quickly!
She began to write her letter, pouring out her heart to her darling, sharing all of her hope for the future—theirs together—putting it down on the page. She wrote how truly happy she would be to go to Ohio and meet David Mellinger, the man who had made Jonas’s long-time dream come true, as well as the master carpenter’s wife and family. She told Jonas she was beholden to them for the invitation to stay with their widowed mother, Edith, in the Dawdi Haus, and she kindly offered any help she might give to the ailing woman.
Such a pleasant time we’ll have together, Jonas, in the days before our wedding. I’m also curious to learn more about the bishop there—the one you spoke so fondly of—and his teachings.
Referring to the Scripture Jonas had shared in his last letter, she couldn’t help but think again of Sadie. Did her sister honestly think leaving Gobbler’s Knob would make things better for her?
Suddenly a most unsettling notion came to her. Leah sighed so loudly in response, she frightened a chipmunk nearby. Would sitting under the teaching of the Ohio bishop be of some benefit to distraught Sadie? According to Jonas, the man was well versed in New Testament Scripture, a rare thing amongst the Old Order.
Leah agonized, thinking of Sadie’s delicate emotional state. She doubted her sister could survive on her own away from home. Even though Sadie might fancy herself a confident woman, Leah feared she might be harmed or taken advantage of—or worse yet, be pulled deeply into the English world, never, ever to return.
Placing her trembling hand on her heart, she breathed slowly. Should I offer Sadie the chance to go to Ohio?
Tears sprang to her eyes. This idea brewing in her heart— had it been put there by the Lord God? She wondered if she had any right to think like that. What shall I do?
She went back and forth in her mind, torn between what she desired for herself and Jonas, and what might possibly be best for Sadie. Yet another hurdle would be to convince her parents—for the sake of Sadie’s right standing in the eyes of God and the church. Perhaps, too, Jonas could befriend Sadie without having to know the details of her sins, nor her persistent rebellion. He need only know she was desperate for a change of scenery, at least for a time. Then, when Jonas returned for the harvest, he could simply accompany Sadie back home. Surely by then she’d be ready to offer her repentance. The short time away would also spare Sadie from suffering even a temporary shunning, most likely.
The biggest obstacle was dear Mamma. She would grieve Sadie’s leaving, no question. On the other hand, Dat would be relieved to have Leah’s help for a while longer than he expected, but he’d certainly want to know why Sadie must go away. Therein was another knotty problem. But she knew enough to trust God, and the more she thought on it, the more she believed the idea had been planted in her heart by the almighty One. The crooked way would be made straight, and the rough places made plain.
Unwavering in her resolve, Leah began to tear her letter to Jonas in half, then in fourths, till she had a dozen or more pieces. They lay in the lush grass beside her, and she touched them gently as she wept. A second refusal from her to Jonas. Will he have an understanding heart? she wondered. Somehow . . . someway, she hoped he might.
A breeze came up and scattered the pieces out of reach before she could attempt to rescue them. She felt nearly helpless, watching them flutter through the trees as they came to light on moss and twig, like the haphazard markings of a lost soul.
Chapter Fourteen
Around eleven-thirty in the morning, Ida’s dinner of veal loaf, baked macaroni and cheese, buttered lima beans, and fresh-tossed greens was ready to serve. She wanted Abram and the girls to come and sit down right away while the main course was still nice and hot. Since Sadie was tending the roadside stand and Ida hadn’t seen Leah around all morning, she suggested Mary Ruth ring the dinner bell to alert the family.
The loud dong-dong brought Abram in promptly, and he headed for the sink.
‘‘Is Leah on her way in?’’ asked Ida.
‘‘You mean she’s not in the house with you?’’ Abram glanced over his shoulder, rubbing soap over his big, callused hands.
‘‘I thought she was outdoors. Have you seen her, Hannah?’’
‘‘She was standin’ right here last I saw her,’’ Hannah said, holding wide-eyed Lydiann, awake from a long morning nap. ‘‘But that was hours ago. She said she was goin’ for a walk somewhere.’’
Mary Ruth spoke
up. ‘‘She and Aunt Lizzie were out talkin’ together earlier.’’
‘‘Before Lizzie left for Bylers’?’’
‘‘Jah, ’bout then.’’ Mary Ruth placed hot pads on the green-checked oilcloth. ‘‘I daresay she might’ve hopped in the buggy with Aunt Lizzie, come to think of it.’’
Ida dismissed that comment; Lizzie had better sense than to allow that. Besides, Ida didn’t think Leah would be interested in a canning frolic at Gideon Peachey’s grandparents’ place. For that reason alone, she was sure Leah had not gone with Lizzie.
She had noticed Leah picking at her food here lately and wondered if something was troubling her. Is that why Leah isn’t home for dinner? she wondered.
‘‘Ain’t like her not to tell someone,’’ Hannah said, handing Lydiann to Mamma.
Abram added, ‘‘Oh, she’ll be along soon enough, I ’spect.’’ But by dinner’s end, Leah still had not come. ‘‘Shouldn’t one of the girls go lookin’ for her?’’ Ida suggested, beginning to worry.
Abram pulled on his beard, squinting his eyes. ‘‘Maybe she got to talkin’ to Adah over at the smithy’s . . . and just stayed round there for lunch.’’
But Ida doubted that. Leah was being real careful not to run into Gideon Peachey too often these days. Abram’s remark was downright silly, and he knew it.
They bowed their heads for the after-mealtime prayer, but Ida beseeched the Lord God heavenly Father for Leah’s protection, especially if she’d taken herself off to the woods. Heaven knew, Leah ought not to be up there alone.
Completely off course, Leah pursued yet another direction. This time the way was even more densely overgrown with hedge and briar, leading to an outcrop of rocks and the sudden smell of animal carcass below. She shook her head, frustrated she’d gotten herself so disoriented after telling Aunt Lizzie she felt right confident. What would Dat say if he knew? But Dat hadn’t any idea of her dilemma or that she’d even set off for the woods. None of the family did.
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