The Betrayal

by Beverly Lewis

‘‘So, will you call him?’’

  Leah sighed. Adah was right: She had to know something one way or the other.

  Leah didn’t feel the need to take Adah up on her offer to go to the pay telephone booth with her. Not wanting to let either Dat or Mamma know what she was up to, she agreed to borrow some loose change from Adah to place the call, awkward as it was. She had used up all her window-washing pay from Dr. Schwartz to reimburse Mary Ruth. And rightly so.

  Having already gone through the process of getting David Mellinger’s woodworking shop number before, she felt much more self-confident making a long-distance call this time.

  When a grown man’s voice came on the line, she realized it was the master carpenter himself. ‘‘Uh, jah, I wonder if I might be speakin’ to . . . Jonas Mast?’’ she sputtered.

  ‘‘Well, I’m sorry to say he’s not here just now.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I don’t mean to bother you,’’ she said.

  ‘‘No trouble a’tall.’’

  ‘‘When would you be expectin’ him?’’

  ‘‘Well, can’t say that for sure. No tellin’ when they’ll be back from the singing.’’

  They?

  ‘‘Do you mean to say. . . ?’’ She stopped, scarcely able to finish. ‘‘Are you speakin’ of Sadie Ebersol, maybe?’’

  ‘‘Why, that’s right. Sadie and Jonas left here not five minutes ago.’’

  She leaned back against the glass of the phone booth, feeling faint. So it is true! Just as Dat supposed. Jonas is now seeing Sadie!

  ‘‘Is there a message I might give Jonas?’’ The question jolted her, and she was so hurt and befuddled she found herself shaking her head instead of giving a verbal response.

  ‘‘Hullo? Are you there?’’

  ‘‘Uh . . . there’s no message. I’m sorry.’’ She felt stiff, scarcely able to place the receiver back in its cradle.

  I’m sorry. . . .

  Why had she said that? Sorry was for a faithless boy like Jonas Mast to be saying to her, for goodness’ sake! But sadly, she might never hear those words uttered from her former beau’s lips.

  Oh, she rued the day she’d ever let him kiss her, especially the fervent way he had. They had.

  She slapped the reins a bit too hard once she climbed back into the buggy, sending the mare swiftly forward. Only one person she cared to see just now, what with this dreadful pain churning inside. Only one, because Aunt Lizzie must have felt the selfsame stabbing pain when the boy she’d loved had walked out on her, too.

  She must get to Lizzie right away. She must sit across from Lizzie at her little kitchen table and sip some warm, honey-sweetened tea, letting the tears roll down, stopping only to ask what a girl could do when her heart hurt this awful bad.

  ‘‘Lizzie’s over in Strasburg buyin’ fabric for your weddin’ quilt,’’ Mamma told Leah when she asked.

  ‘‘When will she be back?’’ she asked, feeling worse than glum.

  ‘‘In time for supper,’’ Mamma said, handing Lydiann off to her. ‘‘Could you entertain your baby sister a bit?’’

  Poor, dear Mamma. She’d been wrung out lately, largely due to Sadie. But what would Mamma think if she knew Sadie had beguiled yet another young man? This time Leah’s own beau.

  Jonas was all mine for ever so long, Leah thought tearfully, holding Lydiann close.

  She kissed her baby sister’s head, got two spoons for Lydiann to play with, and put her down on the floor. Then, lifting her long skirt to the side, she got down and sat next to the active baby.

  Watching Mamma stir a great pot of beef stew, she breathed in the aroma of onions and celery cooking. The smell reminded her of one of the few times they’d ever invited the Mast family over for a Saturday supper. Jonas had sat directly across from her, as he often did—no, come to think of it, as he always did. Right from the start, she’d been naïve enough to believe he was as smitten with her as she was him!

  Would every smell from now on point her to memories of Jonas? Would it always be so?

  ‘‘I hope Lizzie can use the fabric for somethin’ besides my weddin’ quilt,’’ she heard herself saying. In that moment she felt as if she were buried in a straw stack, trying to find an air hole, yet suffocating all the while.

  ‘‘Aw, Leah, you mustn’t . . .’’ Mamma turned to look at her.

  Slowly, Mamma’s expression withered as she stood there, potholder in one hand, wooden spoon in the other. ‘‘Oh, honey-girl.’’ She set them both down quickly and hurried to kneel on the floor. It was the first time Leah had ever heard Aunt Lizzie’s special nickname for her come pouring out of her mother’s mouth.

  ‘‘Oh, Mamma,’’ she cried. ‘‘There’s not goin’ to be a weddin’ after all.’’ She told what she’d done at the pay telephone booth and, worse, what David Mellinger had said. ‘‘Sadie’s gone and taken Jonas from me.’’

  Mamma leaned over and wrapped her comforting arms around her, saying over and over, ‘‘My dear, dear girl . . .’’

  When at last Mamma released her, Leah felt as limp as a dry tobacco leaf. Without saying a word, she picked up Lydiann and carried her upstairs to Mamma’s bedroom and closed the door. She lay down with her on their parents’ bed while Mamma finished cooking downstairs. Placing her hand gently on her sister’s tiny chest, she searched to feel the soft yet steady beat of the baby’s heart.

  ‘‘You must never suffer so,’’ she whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It had come to Ida’s attention, by way of Miriam Peachey, that the gossip vine was spreading itself along, heralding the news that Jonas Mast and their own Sadie were a rather odd partnership. And it had all happened so suddenly. Naturally, none of the talk had started with either herself or Leah, but someone had gotten the grapevine swinging with the news.

  The saddest thing was not only were Sadie and Jonas both in danger of long-term estrangement from the local church community, but they’d never again enjoy the warmth of their families, unless individually they could get Bishop Bontrager to lift the Bann in due time. So both young people were in the same boat, though Sadie’s shunning was imminent, Ida knew, and would more than likely be enforced only in Pennsylvania. Jonas, on the other hand, still had time on his side.

  Even so, Peter and Fannie Mast, though kin, were clearly not on speaking terms with either Abram or Ida. Fannie no longer answered Ida’s letters, and Abram didn’t seem to mind one iota. It was as if the two families had shunned each other, and Ida despised it something awful.

  Sadie was nearly finished setting the table when Vera let out a sharp cry. ‘‘Go and call David,’’ Vera said, pointing toward the back door with one hand and holding her stomach with the other. ‘‘Tell my husband to ride quick an’ get the midwife!’’

  Doing as she was told, Sadie scurried out the door and down to the woodworking shop to inform David his fourth child was on the way.

  While David took the carriage and hurried down the road, Vera was upstairs preparing to give birth. The task of feeding supper to Joseph, Mary Mae, and Andy now fell to Sadie. And, she just realized, Jonas would also be present at the table.

  Somewhat nervous at the prospect of carrying on a conversation with the young man her sister had jilted, she set about dishing up the food, calling for the children to wash their hands and ‘‘come to the table.’’

  Fortunately a good portion of the meal was already on the stove or in the oven. She smiled, glad she could truly take credit for the homemade noodles and gravy, and dried-corn casserole . . . if Jonas happened to ask.

  Joseph and Mary Mae came quickly. Mary Mae held up her chubby hands for Sadie’s inspection before she took her place at the table. ‘‘Did I wash ’em clean enough?’’ she asked, blue eyes shining.

  Sadie assured Mary Mae she had done an excellent job of it. Then she said quickly that their mamma would soon introduce them, each one, to a new baby brother or sister. ‘‘Won’t be long now.’’

  ‘‘Best be a boy,’’ Jose
ph said suddenly. He wore a slight frown, as though worried about the sounds coming from upstairs.

  ‘‘Your mamma will be just fine,’’ she said in his ear, guiding him around the table to his place.

  It was little Andy who dawdled at the sink, sliding the round stool over and stepping up to wash his hands. Jonas glanced at Sadie, then at the food, steaming hot on the table. His eyes seemed to say, You’re handling things very well.

  She caught the message and rose to help the four-year-old dry his hands and get seated. ‘‘Now I believe we’re ready for the table blessing,’’ she said, looking to Jonas to bow his head and take David’s place in all of this.

  While her head was bowed, she thought how strange, yet awful nice, this unexpected situation was—she and Jonas the only grown-ups at the table, surrounded by three young ones. She felt she was being given a glimpse of what life might be like as a young wife and mother. Married to Jonas Mast, maybe? Well, that would please her, for sure and for certain . . . if the handsome boy across the table could get her sister out of his head long enough to notice her.

  Jonas made the quick sound in his throat, just as both Dat and David Mellinger always did, to signal the end of the silent prayer. They all sat up straight, and Sadie passed the food to Jonas first; then she began to serve the children.

  While they ate, she waited for Jonas to bring up an interesting topic for conversation, but she wasn’t so ready for his remark when he finally did. In fact, she had to stop to think of what to say, she was that cautious.

  He spoke to her while the children occupied themselves with feeding their faces. ‘‘I saw you had unexpected visitors recently.’’ His voice was rather quiet, softer than usual.

  She did not wish to call more attention to herself over this. Thankfully, Edith had snoozed all through the ministers’ conversation that day. Still, Sadie was sure both Vera and David had been alerted to the men arriving in the preacher’s buggy. It was hard not to stand up and take notice of the sober-looking men wearing their black trousers and frock coats with straight collars. ‘‘Evidently, word’s gotten out that I intend to stay on here,’’ she said.

  Joseph let out a belch and Andy tried to mimic him.

  Sadie continued, saying she’d discussed her idea with Edith and the widow was absolutely delighted with the prospect of an ongoing companionship.

  ‘‘What about your family . . . and your home church?’’ Jonas held his glass of water, not drinking. ‘‘How do the Gobbler’s Knob brethren look on it?’’

  ‘‘Bishop Bontrager has issued a warning, is all.’’ She shared with him what she had been told, that, eventually, she could join the church here, ‘‘though more progressive than at home.’’ She didn’t tell him that Bishop Bontrager had mercifully spared her by not revealing to the Ohio ministers the details of her past transgressions.

  ‘‘I’d hate to see you shunned for simply stayin’ put here.’’

  She said no more, hoping his curiosity had been satisfied. Truth be told, she wanted to keep Jonas’s attention on her, not on problems relating to church rules and regulations. ‘‘I’ll be all right,’’ she replied. ‘‘You’ll see.’’

  Leah spent her after-supper hours alone in her bedroom following silent evening prayers and Bible reading. Night after night, her room seemed to grow ever larger, what with Sadie gone. When she finally did allow herself to lie down and sleep some, she often awoke with tears in her eyes, trying to comprehend how it was Jonas no longer was coming home. How could it be possible her beau was now courting her sister?

  Sitting by her bedroom window late into the night, having long since snuffed out the oil lantern, she stared up at the dark sky. She didn’t care that some folk were saying things like ‘‘Abram’s Leah is pining away, a bride-to-be without a beau’’ or ‘‘just look at Abram’s Leah—ach, she grows old before our eyes.’’

  She glanced briefly in the hand mirror on the dresser and observed how awful gray her face was. Gone the rosy cheeks, the bright eyes. She was only seventeen and appeared to be dying. Then and there, her thoughts strayed to Catharina, the martyred Ebersol great-grandmother who had lost everything to follow the Lord God.

  Leah couldn’t go so far as to think that she, too, had given up all to do God’s bidding. But she had followed her heart at the prompting of the Holy One, breaking her pledge to Sadie . . . to give her life to the Amish church.

  On the day of Naomi Kauffman’s wedding, Leah felt as if she were floating through all the necessary motions, saying all the expected things. She assumed Naomi’s doctor must have given the bride a clean bill of health, so to speak, which no doubt pleased Luke Bontrager. Not to mention the bishop. Leah despised the tittle-tattle that went around amongst the womenfolk. For the sake of Naomi’s future as a God-fearing wife and mother, she was glad Sadie’s former friend hadn’t fallen near as far as some young people did during rumschpringe.

  Upstairs, arranged on Naomi’s bed, many wedding gifts were on display. Mostly kitchenware for Naomi and farm tools for Luke. Careful to show interest in the bride’s gifts, Leah went upstairs to look with Naomi before the wedding service began. ‘‘What a joyous day,’’ she said.

  Naomi smiled, eyes brimming with happy tears. ‘‘All’s well, now.’’

  Leah was much relieved Naomi did not once mention Sadie’s name.

  Later, during the preaching, Leah sat next to Naomi, along with Adah—the three young women all in a row, wearing their new blue dresses and white aprons—while Bishop Bontrager gave the main sermon. He focused on the Old Testament marriages, beginning with the story of Adam and Eve, up through Isaac and Rebekah, and concluding with a story from the Apocrypha about Tobias heeding his father’s counsel and choosing a bride from his own tribe.

  Leah sat still as could be, trying not to dwell on the fact that two short weeks from now, she and Jonas had planned to be standing before the bishop, making their lifelong vows to each other. Her eyes dimmed at the thought. Hard as it was, she was following through with her promise to Naomi, being a dutiful wedding attendant. She hoped no one suspected her pain, though she assumed all of them had heard by now, one way or another.

  She took in several breaths and attempted to paste on a permanent smile as Naomi and Luke agreed they were ‘‘ordained of God for each other’’ and would remain so till such time as death should separate them.

  Leah and Adah had decided beforehand they would not stay for the barn games, geared toward the single youth and courting couples. Adah had suggested they return home together with Leah’s family so she could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with Leah, helping her through ‘‘such a hard day.’’

  Gid sat with the menfolk, unable to keep his eyes off Leah. He wished he might do something to ease her sorrow, which was plainly evident. Leah was a plucky one, but knowing her as he did, he felt sure she was suppressing her grief. At least for the moment . . . for Naomi’s happiness.

  What a girl! To think she’d lost her beau to her own fickle sister. The thought stirred him up, even though it meant the girl he’d always admired and cared for would not be marrying this month after all. Leah would still live neighbors to him under the covering of Abram’s roof. Yet he felt sick to his stomach, enduring some of the pain that such a dear girl must be experiencing this moment as she stood tall and pretty next to the bride and groom.

  Dat agreed there was plenty of room for Adah to ride home with them, and Leah was ever so glad. They didn’t say much as they rode together in the back of the spring wagon, with Lizzie and the twins in the next seat up, and Mamma, Lydiann, and Dat up front.

  Once home Adah followed her upstairs so Leah could change into an everyday dress and apron. ‘‘ ’Twas nice to see Naomi lookin’ so happy, jah?’’ Adah said.

  Leah had to agree. ‘‘To think what might’ve turned out to be.’’ She didn’t much care to discuss the aftermath of a reckless rumschpringe.

  She hung up her new dress and apron, and the girls hurried downsta
irs and out the back door, both draped in their warm shawls. They headed through the rows and rows of brown stumps that had once been a cornfield, to Adah’s house. There, Adah slipped out of her nice, new dress and hung it up for the next Preaching service. ‘‘I’m sorry you had to suffer through today, Leah,’’ Adah said.

  ‘‘I’m glad you were right beside me,’’ Leah replied quickly. ‘‘Such a comfort it was. You just don’t know.’’

  Adah suggested they not attend many of the weddings this year. ‘‘I can think of plenty of things to do besides goin’ from one weddin’ to another all November long.’’

  Leah appreciated her friend’s thoughtfulness. ‘‘Mamma said she heard there were some spillin’ over into December.’’

  ‘‘No one should expect you to go to all of them . . . or any, for that matter.’’ Adah reached for her hand.

  ‘‘Still, I’d hate to see you miss out, Adah. There’ll be plenty of nice boys there, eager to play the barn games and whatnot. You really should go with your sister . . . and Gid.’’

  Adah, it was plain to see, was reluctant to say she would or wouldn’t go. Leah knew that if Adah waited too long, she might miss out on having herself a beau. It wouldn’t be fair for Adah Peachey to be Gid’s age and still single, waiting for the ‘‘right one’’ to come along.

  Jonas worked extra hard in the wood shop, recalling Leah was to be a bridesmaid in Naomi Kauffman’s wedding this day. He set to sawing with such fervor that David looked up and gave notice, raising an eyebrow, before he returned to staining a table.

  Stopping to wipe his face on his sleeve, he shuddered to think Abram had succeeded in getting his first choice in a beau for Leah. So Gid had stolen his bride. Still baffled as to why he hadn’t known, or at least surmised as much, he found himself shaking his head in utter dismay. Leah had chosen to let him down by simply not responding to his important letter— by not coming right out and saying that, jah, she wanted to obey her father’s wishes.