by Amy Lillard
“I do not understand that.”
Zane shrugged. “I grew up without believing in God.” Saying the words out loud in such a peaceful place seemed like an abomination. Well, they would have if he believed in such things.
“You said that the cooperative was a lot like here but without God. You meant—”
“Without God.”
Katie Rose was quiet for a moment. Thoughtful. Then she turned toward him, ignoring the slight pull on her line. “How do you do it? How do you live without God?”
Zane shrugged. That was one he’d never been asked before. “You just . . . do.”
Katie Rose wasn’t about to let it end there. “Who do you pray to?”
“I don’t pray.”
“Not ever?” Her line went slack. The fish must have lost interest and moved on, but Katie Rose dug in for the fight, such as it was. “And when somethin’ bad happens, and you wish that it was different, who do you ask for the change?”
“I dunno.”
“Is that not a prayer?”
“I suppose.” Zane shrugged again. “I never really thought about it.”
“You should. It’s impossible to live without God. He’s in your every footstep. Every beat that your heart makes. In the wind and the trees.”
In that moment Zane wanted to believe. He wanted to bask in the poetry of her words. Bow to a higher power. The earnest light in her green eyes made him want what she had, a faith beyond measure.
He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you about the three things you should never talk about?”
She shook her head.
“Religion, Politics, and—”
“And what?”
He coughed, hoping she didn’t notice the flush of red creeping into his neck. “Two’s enough for now.”
“We do not speak of politics, Zane Carson. But God? He’s our way of life.”
Katie Rose’s words echoed through his mind for the rest of the evening. During the prayer at suppertime, when he was the only one at the table who didn’t bow his head before or after the meal, and again during the Bible reading when everyone looked to Abram with eager eyes and open hearts as he read Scripture.
Zane had lived his entire life without God. But what if what Katie Rose said was true, that it wasn’t possible to live without God? Was He always there? Surely for those who believed He was. But was God there for the nonbelievers? How could that possibly be?
Morning came with an increase in the normal flurry of activity. Aside from the milking, egg gathering, chicken feeding, cooking frenzy that normally occupied the Fisher household each morning, this Sunday held even more. It was the Fisher’s Sunday to host the church service, which meant the regular chores had to be completed extra early. That way the rest of the morning could be spent on final preparations for hosting nearly two hundred people for singing, worship, and eating. The singing for the teenagers would be held in the barn that evening, so it had to be especially clean.
Zane went about that morning doing his part to ensure that the service went off as smoothly as possible. Annie, it seemed, was unusually nervous. John Paul had told him that it was the first service she would be allowed to attend. She would state her intentions of joining the Amish church district, and the members would vote.
Or maybe her anxiety came because church would be held in the house she had helped run since Ruth had taken ill. She shouldn’t have worried because Mary Elizabeth and Katie Rose had come early to help, with Hester Stoltzfus and Beth Troyer arriving soon after.
Zane couldn’t help but watch Katie Rose whenever she was near. Her grace and smile were mesmerizing as she moved through the kitchen. Her words of yesterday haunted him even more. Could she be right about God? That it was impossible to live without Him because He was everywhere? And if she were, what did it mean to him? He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea, couldn’t see it in its entirety, so he stuffed his thoughts back down. They’d keep for later, for a time when he could take them out and examine them carefully.
Zane had wanted to disappear as soon as the buggies started to arrive, but Ruth and Abram wouldn’t hear of it. Though he wasn’t allowed in the church service, they asked him to remain in the yard greeting the members, talking, and getting to know the people of the district better until it was time to begin.
The bishop, ministers, and deacon went inside the house first.
“They’ll go upstairs and decide what they’re goin’ to preach about today, and who’s goin’ to do most of the preachin’,” John Paul told him.
Zane nodded to Ezekiel Esh. The old man seemed to be moving a little slower than usual. The day had turned out a little colder than the one before, and tomorrow morning, the first frost of the season was supposed to arrive. The cold must be getting to him. He turned to John Paul. “They do this every Sunday?”
John Paul nodded. “Jah. Each Sunday we have church.”
“Right.” He’d forgotten. The church district only held church every other Sunday. On the off days, they visited with surrounding districts, traveling to see friends and loved ones.
Another half hour later, Zane found himself alone in the yard. Well, alone if he didn’t count the dogs, the cats, and the crazy number of buggies parked over to one side. He was still scratching his head over the orderly way they entered the church. Men first, then the women, followed by the younger boys who had not yet joined, and finally the young girls.
Suddenly he wished to be a part of them. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he were missing something important. He tried to shake off the thought, but the feeling lingered. He’d lived his entire life without religion, and he’d been just fine.
But have you lived your entire life without God?
A shudder crept over Zane’s spine. That was a question he did not have the answer for, wasn’t sure if he ever would.
Three hours later the church members filed back out into the cool, sunny afternoon. Zane tried not to crane his neck to get sight of Katie Rose as the women started coming out of the house. He was about as successful as he had been not listening in on the church service.
He had kept to the yard, playing with the dogs and otherwise enjoying a lazy mid-morning, doing a whole lot of nothing. But he wasn’t able to understand a word that was said or sung. As far as he could tell, the words were German, not the rhythmic Pennsylvania Dutch he’d grown accustomed to hearing.
Now that church was out, his heart gave a hard thump at the thought of seeing Katie Rose once more, of sitting next to her as they ate, and talking some more. Maybe she could tell him a little more about her God. And maybe he could gain a little more understanding.
As he filled his plate with pickles and cheese, sliced apples and bread, he noticed the men on one side of the yard and the women on the other. He’d love to break ranks and sneak over and sit by her for a little while. It wasn’t like he was Amish, only pretending to be for a few weeks.
John Paul snagged his elbow as he started toward the women’s side.
“The men sit over here.” He nodded toward the rest of the men, young and old alike, dotted across one half of the yard. Most were talking and laughing, but there were a few, Zane noticed, who gazed at the women like lovesick puppies.
He sure hoped he didn’t look like that. No way. He just enjoyed Katie Rose’s company. It wasn’t like he was in love with her.
He gave her one last glance, then allowed John Paul to lead him away.
Katie Rose pried her gaze off the Englischer and focused instead on the food before her. The men had gone through the food line, and the women had their turn, filling plates for themselves as well as some of the younger children. Katie Rose had thought one day she would be filling a plate for her and her children while their father sat with
the men and talked farming and horses.
Instead she loaded up a plate to share with Samuel. Strange how God’s plan for her was to be the one thing that she wasn’t. But she was happy with her life. Really, she was.
As she made herself comfortable in a bit of weak autumn sunlight, Samuel crawled into her lap. Katie Rose looked up to find Mary Beachy staring at her husband, John. She’d heard that Mary was going to have another baby. Sometime in early spring. This child would be number four. That sinful monster, Envy, rose up within her. She was happy for Mary and John. Really. But she had always thought some of that very same happiness would belong to her.
She sighed and bowed her head, saying her thanks for the food and for the beautiful day and asking forgiveness for her selfish thoughts. The good Lord knew what He was doing. She had to trust and believe, but so far she hadn’t kept her half of that agreement.
She looked up from her prayer to find Zane Carson staring at her again. Was it her own fanciful thoughts that had her imagining that his look was similar to the one John gave his wife? For sure and for certain, it must be. And yet . . . if she were mistaken, and if he truly was looking at her in that way, why did he have to be an outsider?
Samuel Beachy had looked at her like that before he left, but she wasn’t about to let herself dwell on that either. She gazed at the little boy lolling in her lap, and bent forward to plant a small kiss on the top of his carrot-red hair. She had her Samuel now. She really should be thankful for all the things she had and not the secret longings she’d kept hidden for so long.
Thoughts like that would only leave her with a broken heart.
It was after three before the last of the churchgoers left. A clique or two of teenagers still hung around, eager to get to tonight’s singing. Katie Rose smiled remembering the times she had waited for Samuel Beachy to come pick her up for the Sunday singing.
She folded up another of the tables and balanced one side on the ground until John Paul came over to lift it and take it into the barn. Tonight’s festivities would be fun and loud, couples discovering each other and hoping to make a place in the community for themselves. The couples destined to be married this year had already stated their intentions, but next year’s couples were as of yet unspoken. Tonight a few of those pairs might state intentions to each other, promises they would keep a secret for the entire time of their courtship. That was the Amish way.
But it was just as fun to watch for pairings of the boys and girls. Many of those happened after they left her classroom, but the following year when the students who had graduated returned for their German lessons, the pairing began. Katie Rose could almost see them in advance. How ironic that she had not been able to see the truth about Samuel Beachy when it was right before her eyes, and yet she could tell the intentions of others.
John Paul took the weight of the next table and nodded toward the barn. Caleb and Lilly stood there, talking quietly while everyone else drank the rest of the lemonade and chased the kittens around.
“There’s a match if’n I ever saw one.”
Katie Rose shook her head. “Maybe as far as Caleb was concerned, but Lilly wants to stretch her legs a bit more before folding them down to join up with the church.”
He shook his head with a jaunty wink. “I’ll bet you a strawberry rhubarb pie they’ll end up married this time next year.”
Katie Rose let him take the table, then propped her hands on her hips, aware that as she did so she probably looked remarkably like their mother. “First of all, John Paul Fisher, it is a sin to place wagers, and second of all, where are you going to get a pie?” She raised her brows at him and tapped her foot waiting on the answer.
John Paul smiled in his crooked way that got him nearly everything he could want from life. The boy was too charming by far. “I don’t think the bishop or the deacon could find fault with a friendly little wager, sister dear, and I won’t need one, seein’ as I’m right. They’ll be married soon enough. If not this year, then surely the next.”
“They’re too young,” she said. “For this year or the next.” Caleb, the bishop’s youngest son had just turned sixteen in the summer. And Lilly Grace Miller was only now out of Katie Rose’s classroom.
Still, she could tell the young man had his choice of a wife already picked out and that lucky girl was Lilly. If Lilly were truly lucky, Samuel Beachy’s younger brother would find his rumspringa complete when the time came to bow before the church, and he wouldn’t go traipsing off to see more of the world.
She pushed down that uncharitable thought. Now was not the time to bring up ghosts from the past. It was a beautiful day, a singing was about to begin, and there was work to be done.
Katie Rose stood on her parents’ porch and gazed up at the stars that decorated the night sky. She had stayed after the service to help get ready for the singing. Her mother had been through her last cancer treatment weeks ago, but the medications and radiation had taken a toll on her overall health. They only had a few more weeks to go before Mamm would be declared cancer free, and the time couldn’t pass quickly enough for Katie Rose. Not that she minded the extra work. Amish life was full of needs for family and community, but she looked forward to the day when her mother would start to feel like herself again. The light had gone out in her mother’s eyes, and Katie Rose knew that every day she fought with the needs of her body versus the needs of her family. Her body was winning, but no one could convince her to take it easy. She wasn’t about to let her family down, let anyone do without because she was not feeling as well as could be. No, Ruth Fisher continued on like nothing had ever happened.
A perfect example would be today’s church service. Several families had offered to host the service in order to let her parents have a break from the responsibilities, but Ruth wouldn’t even talk about it. When someone brought it up, she ignored them and went to the kitchen to bake another loaf of bread for the occasion.
Finally everyone just stopped talking and started helping instead.
Now that it was nearly done, Katie Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Their duty was over—until it was Gabe’s turn to hold the service—but with the Lord’s help, her mother would be long past her mending before his time came around.
She glanced toward the barn, the light coming through the crack between the doors showing no signs of going out anytime soon. Strange music floated on the cool, gentle breeze, as if someone had brought in some type of battery-powered radio. She supposed she should go out there and stop them, but since most of those still left were living in their run-around years, she decided against it. Better they figure out their path now than weeks before their time to join the church.
As she stared out into the night, letting her thoughts skip from topic to topic as it would, two figures rounded the corner of the barn and started toward her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” John Paul asked.
That could only mean the other shadowy silhouette belonged to . . .
“There’s no way I’m riding in that car with you ever again.”
“Suit yourself.” John Paul clapped Zane Carson on the back and headed across to the field behind the phone shanty where Dat made her bruder keep his car.
As far as she was concerned, John Paul was taking his rumspringa a bit too seriously. He hadn’t even made out like he was seeking the company of a young girl with hopes that she would one day be his wife. Instead he left the house at all hours of the night, going who knows where and doing who knows what for hours on end. Rumspringa was one thing, but Katie Rose had a feeling that had her mother not been ill, her father would have not let John Paul’s rumspringa be so . . . liberal. Especially since her sister, Megan, had left to see the world, much like Samuel Beachy. And like Samuel, Megan Fisher had yet to return. Katie Rose had been unable to find her missing sister to tell her of their mother’s illness. Not that it would bring her back
—no one had spoken to Meg in years. Yet despite the heartache she had caused, Katie Rose hoped her sister was faring well in the Englisch world.
She watched her brother cross the paved county road toward his car, and said a tiny prayer as he hopped in and sped away. Then she turned back to find Zane Carson approaching her through the night.
Part of Katie Rose wanted to tuck tail and head back into the warmth of the house. Her father could take care of the young people left singing in the barn, but nothing called for her return home. By now Gabe had put the children to bed, all but Mary Elizabeth. Secretly, Katie Rose was glad when these opportunities arose.
As much as she loved taking care of her brother and his children, she wondered if perhaps her presence in his household had kept them both from reaching for the lives that should have been theirs. Or at least his. Katie Rose knew that Gabe had loved Rebecca with all of his heart. Everything not given to God was offered up to his wife and family. When she died, a part of Gabe died with her. Unlike Gideon, Gabriel hid his grief, called her fateful childbirth God’s will, and moved on. But only part way. Instead of remarrying, like most Amish men, he simply relied on Katie Rose to care for his family.
She had waited too long. Zane Carson now stood at the foot of the porch, gazing up at her face.
“Hi, there.”
She hoped that the night shadows hid her expression from him. She didn’t want him to see how happy she was that he’d come to find her. “Good night to you, Zane Carson.”
He hooked his fingers through his suspenders and rocked back on his heels. “Come walk with me, Katie Rose.”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“An Amish gentleman is never so bold as to ask a lady to walk with him after dark.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Amish.”
Ach, she had noticed all right. That was most of the problem. Too much time spent with him, and she was for sure and for certain when he left town he’d take a big hunk of her heart with him. It was better by far to leave it this way.