An Uncommon Grace

by Serena B. Miller

  Timothy, sensing trouble, sidled closer to the open workshop door. It was obvious that he wanted to bolt but didn’t want to leave Levi to face the bishop alone.

  “How can I help you?” Levi asked. The bishop’s behavior was very odd, even for him. But on his most pessimistic day, he would never have guessed what was coming next.

  “You and Zillah are to be wed in three weeks’ time,” the bishop stated.

  Levi was stunned. Timothy made a small “oof” sound, as though someone had hit him in the stomach.

  Bishop Weaver put one hand up as though to ward off any questions or comments Levi might have.

  “That will give us time to make the announcement next Sunday. The marriage will take place the following Thursday.”

  “Why?” Levi felt as befuddled as a newborn colt.

  “You know why!” The bishop sounded as though he were spewing venom.

  “I do not know why!” Levi said. “Marrying your daughter is the last thing I would ever want to do.”

  He saw pain flash through the bishop’s eyes, and then they simmered with anger.

  “You should have thought of that before you got her with child!”

  He was even more dumbfounded. “Zillah is with child?”

  “She is.”

  “But I did not get her with child.”

  “She has already told me what happened. The two of you bundled the one night she was here, and it got out of hand. Things like that happen sometimes between young people. It can be confessed and forgiven.”

  Levi glanced at Timothy, whose mouth was hanging open.

  “We did not bundle,” Levi said.

  “I know for a fact that you did,” the bishop argued. “You as much as told me so yourself. You said that you rid yourself of those books because she had seen them and chastised you for them, like the proper bishop’s daughter she is. Zillah was in your Kammer—your bedroom. You cannot deny it.”

  “She was in my room, and she wanted to bundle, but I refused.”

  If Levi thought the bishop was angry before, he had been mistaken. The bishop’s eyes positively blazed at this comment.

  Zillah glanced up at him from beneath her demure black bonnet. “Oh, Levi,” she said. “You cannot abandon me now—not after all the things you said to me about how we would spend the rest of our lives together.”

  Her lie made him clench his teeth in frustration. He had always known Zillah was manipulative, but he never dreamed she would go to these lengths to get back at him.

  “Your daughter is lying, Bishop.”

  The bishop’s fists clenched. Levi saw that it was everything the man could do not to punch him in the face. He was certain that if they were not a nonviolent people, he would be stretched out on the ground by now.

  His guess was that Zillah really was pregnant. He could not imagine an Amish girl putting herself through this kind of humiliation if she wasn’t. It occurred to him that this might have happened with someone who would not marry her, and she had decided to use it to snare someone who would.

  In fact, perhaps that was what had been behind her request to bundle with him. Perhaps she had been desperately trying to trick someone who would be a good provider for her and the baby.

  But he was not the child’s father. That was a fact. He was simply the man she was trying to maneuver, through her father, into marrying her. First babies that took less than nine months to arrive were not unheard of, nor spoken much about, but it was most definitely expected that the boy and girl would get married as soon as possible.

  He had no way to convince the bishop that he had not been intimate with his daughter except his own word. And that word was now pitted against hers.

  “I will not allow my daughter to be disgraced because of your slick ways,” the bishop said. “I have had my eye on you for some time, and I have seen how restless you are. I was not surprised when you admitted that you owned forbidden books, or when you admitted to purchasing a pocket telephone. You confessed these wrongdoings not only to me but the rest of the church. Do you think that they are going to take your word over my daughter’s now?”

  “I don’t know what the church will believe or not believe. I only know the truth. The truth is that I am not the child’s father.”

  “I think you should give this up now, Levi, before you humiliate yourself any further.” The bishop attempted to make his voice sound reasonable. “We will publish your wedding announcement this coming Sunday. Her mother and I will somehow get a wedding together, which will take place two Thursdays from now. It is May, and not the time for weddings, but you have given us no choice in choosing a date.”

  “But I did not do anything!”

  “That is what you say, but my daughter tells me differently. You should pray that God will reconcile your heart to being a good and faithful husband to the innocent girl you sinned against.”

  Levi did not know what to do. There was no way on earth he was going to shackle himself for life to Zillah.

  How did one prove a negative?

  He had heard that in the promiscuous Englisch world there was a test they could do to determine whether or not a child belonged to a man. He had no idea how to go about having it done. His guess was that he would have to wait until the child was born to obtain a piece of paper that would prove that he was not the father.

  Nine months was a long time to wait to be exonerated.

  He knew he was capable of loving a child that was not his own, but he was not capable of living with Zillah day in and day out for the rest of his life. And it would be for the rest of his life. Amish did not divorce. It would be like receiving a lifetime prison sentence.

  “I will pray,” he answered. “I will pray that the father of Zillah’s child will come forward and make things right, but it would be wrong for me to confess to a sin that I did not commit.”

  He saw Zillah’s eyes dart to her father. It was the first loss of confidence he’d seen in her since the conversation began. Her gamble had failed. She had underestimated how desperately he did not want to marry her. Evidently she did not have another plan to fall back on.

  Unfortunately, neither did he.

  The joy Levi had taken in the contemplation of the day’s work ahead had evaporated. The only thing left inside him now was a deep dread. The bishop was not someone to give up easily, nor was Zillah. Within the narrow bounds of their Amish culture, he had never seen her ask for anything that she had not received. Zillah did not have to wait as long for a new dress. The shoes she wore were always a little more expensive than the other girls’. Even as a young girl, she had her own buggy cart and a pretty pony to pull it.

  Only children were rare among the Swartzentrubers and so he did not know what was normal behavior for one. But he had a strong suspicion that being an only child living with a weak mother and a father who wielded too much power had ruined this girl.

  Zillah and her father got back into the buggy. The bishop was so angry he actually whipped his horse as they shot out of the driveway. Levi was sorry that he had caused the horse needless pain, but it was not something over which he had control.

  When Zillah and her father had departed, Timothy looked at Levi with great sympathy. “I would not want to walk in your shoes, my friend. Gut Gleek, good luck.”

  In the distance, she could see Levi behind a horse-drawn machine that she supposed was a planter of some kind. It was a comfort just knowing he was out there. Even though they were not “friends,” she knew he would do whatever he could if she needed him—not because of any affection for her, but because of who he was.

  As he got closer, she waved. He did not wave back, but she thought she saw him tip his head in her direction. With the reins in his hand, that was probably the best she would get.

  The swing was cushioned, and there were comfortable pillows on it. She leaned back against them and pulled out the paperback novel the nurse had given her grandmother. There was just a little more to go and she thought she could get it
finished during her grandmother’s nap time. Scooping up the gray kitten, which had turned out to be quite a sweetheart, she lay back against the cushions and began to read.

  There must have been something about the relaxing feel of being on the porch, or the feel of a rare sunny day, or perhaps the feel of a warm, cozy kitten curled up on her stomach, but as soon as she finished the novel, she fell into a deep sleep.

  “Are you all right?” Levi was standing over her, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his straw hat tipped back on his head. What skin showed was bronzed by the sun.

  Surprised, she jerked upright. The lurid novel slid off her lap onto the floor and the kitten scrambled to keep from falling.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but you’ve been asleep for a very long time and I thought maybe something was wrong.”

  “Have a seat, Levi.” She used her foot to surreptitiously move the novel underneath the swing, hopefully out of his line of vision. “You look like you could use some shade.”

  “Actually, I have shade back there with my horses.” He pointed to one lone tree that had been allowed to remain in the middle of the cleared field. Grace had wondered why that tree had been left. Now she knew. “But it won’t hurt if my horses rest a few minutes longer.”

  “Have you eaten?” She looked at her watch.

  “Yes. You did not move the whole time I ate. That is why I came over.”

  He bent over and ran a finger over the kitten she was holding. “Where did you get this little one?”

  “He’s one of Becky’s strays.” Grace held the kitten up for him to admire. “If there’s any sort of crippled or abandoned animal on the place, she’ll find it and worry over it until it gets better. I’ve never known anyone more tenderhearted.”

  “I saw her cry over a baby robin once that fell out of its nest too soon.”

  “What did she do?”

  He smiled. “After she spent the better part of her summer vacation catching bugs all day every day, I don’t think she envied the life of a mama bird.”

  “Did it live?”

  “It did. I was surprised.”

  She expected him to leave now that he had discovered there was nothing wrong, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat down on a chair beside the swing.

  “Won’t you get into trouble for being here?” she asked.

  “I am already in Druwwel— in trouble.”

  She could tell by the sound of his voice that he was not joking. “What’s wrong, Levi?”

  He stared at the edge of the porch roof. “You have another downspout coming loose.”

  “There are a lot of things on this old house that are coming loose. What’s wrong?”

  “I will fix the downspout for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Levi. What’s wrong?”

  “I will fix it.”

  There was a long silence while Levi surveyed her property. “Your barn is in need of repair and some of those outbuildings should be torn down. The lumber could be put to better use. All sorts of unwanted things could be nesting within them.”

  She wondered if this was his attempt at small talk—or was he, perhaps, in economic trouble and simply looking for work?

  “Do you need a job, Levi?”

  “No.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “One thing I do not need is more work.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Another silence ensued while she waited to see what it was that Levi wanted. She had no idea what was going on, but she didn’t think it was normal behavior for an Amish farmer to come to an Englisch woman’s house and sit on the porch in the middle of a spring day for no particular reason.

  “You are a nurse,” he said.

  So it was a medical question. She could deal with that. “What do you need to know?”

  “It is embarrassing.” He removed his hat and stared down at it. “It is hard for me to ask.”

  “I doubt you can possibly come up with a medical question that will embarrass me.”

  “I hope that is true.” Then he dropped a bombshell. “Is it possible to prove who a child’s father is before it is born?”

  Of all the questions Levi might have asked, this had to be the very last one she was expecting. “Yes, but it is risky.”

  “How is it risky?”

  “A needle has to be inserted into the woman’s stomach. Amnio fluid has to be drawn out. Sometimes the procedure can cause a miscarriage.”

  Levi sighed and stared out over the hills. “There is a quail’s nest in that field. I saw it in time to plow around it. There should be a nice covey there soon.”

  “Did you get someone pregnant, Levi?”

  His eyes were clouded with worry. “No, but Zillah has accused me of fathering a child with her. The bishop is demanding that we marry.”

  This shook her. “Is there any chance you are the father?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Do you want to marry her?”

  His eyes locked onto hers. “Never.”

  Grace believed him. Levi was too honorable a man to put himself in the position of accidentally needing to marry some girl with whom he was not in love.

  “What will happen if you refuse? Could you be banned?”

  “I could be banned by putting rubber wheels on my buggy instead of steel ones.” His voice held a tinge of bitterness. “What do you think?”

  “I think that unless Zillah recants or someone else steps forward to take responsibility for this child, you are going to have a rough time over the next nine months.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “After a child is born,” Grace said, “paternity is easy to establish. It only takes a gentle mouth swab from the baby to get enough DNA.”

  “Nine months of the Meidung—the ban—is a long time.”

  “I have heard that the Amish aren’t so strict these days,” Grace said. “At least not as strict as a few years ago.”

  “That is true for the Old Order Amish,” he said. “But a strictly enforced Meidung is one of the reasons the Swartzentrubers left the Old Order in the first place. Our leaders felt that the other Amish were becoming too lenient.”

  Grace tickled under the kitten’s neck until it rolled over onto its back. “Is being shunned bad enough that you would be willing to marry Zillah to avoid it?”

  “I could not bear it.” His voice was thick with emotion. “My life with Zillah would be a bitter one.”

  “Then perhaps you will have to endure the ban for only nine months.”

  “I have doubts that Zillah or her father will allow the test even after the baby is born.”

  Levi’s head was down and he was staring at the straw hat dangling from his fingers. She had never seen him look so dejected.

  “You can get a court order for that sort of thing, Levi.”

  There was a flicker of humor in his eyes as he glanced up at her. “Our people do not go to court. Not unless it is something that affects the Amish community as a whole.”

  “Have you told your mother what Zillah is accusing you of?”

  “It is not a conversation I want to have. Mothers and sons should not have to discuss such things together.”

  “Claire needs to know—before someone else tells her.”

  His sigh was so deep, it sounded as though it had been drawn up from the soles of his feet. “I will talk to her.”

  Levi glanced over at his horses. “I must get back. They are getting restless. We are expecting rain again tonight and they sense it.”

  Without thinking, Grace laid a hand on his arm. “Levi?”

  His body tensed beneath her touch. “Yes?”

  She yanked her hand away as though she had touched something hot. “If there’s any way I can help, please tell me.”

  “Thank you, Grace.” He scratched behind the kitten’s ears again before he stood. “I might need your help before this is over. The next nine months will be a hard time.”

  Even under the circumstances
, as he left the porch he was able to turn and give her a mischievous grin. “Now that I’m leaving, you can get back to reading that book you did not want me to see.”

  chapter TWENTY-ONE

  It rained the day after the bishop and Zillah came to call.

  And it rained the day after that.

  It rained for a full week with little letup.

  The rich ground soaked up the water until it could not hold one more drop. Farmers watched their fields in despair.

  Those who had managed to get their crops in saw the rain wash away the topsoil from the precious seeds they had planted. Crows pounced upon exposed kernels and with raucous calls gobbled them up. In the places where the corn had managed to sprout, the winged gluttons tugged the tender shoots out of the ground and feasted on the sprouting corn.

  What struggling crops the crows did not eat, the deer did. The graceful animals materialized in early-morning mists—virtual eating machines that munched any growing thing they could consume before a distraught farmer or his dogs chased them away.

  A feeling of bleakness descended up the county as tourists gave up and melted back to their homes, disappointed that the lovely countryside they had hoped to see had been replaced by a dreary landscape in which even the spring flowers were depressed looking and forlorn.

  The engorged earth vomited up rivulets in unexpected places. The rivulets turned into streams where there had never been streams before. The streams made their way into small creek beds, turning little creeks into raging rivers. Then the rivers spread out into shallow lakes, turning thousands of acres of farmland into untillable swamp.

  Because of the turmoil his family had been in in the first part of May, Levi was behind in everything. In a way, it had worked to his advantage. His crops were not hurt as badly as some. He had plowed the fields, spread manure, and purchased seed at the local feedstore, but he had managed to plant only one oat field so far. For a while, with his mother once again presiding in her own kitchen, it had felt almost as though life were getting back to some semblance of normal.

  Until it continued to rain.

  He watched from a window of his workshop, making plans on how to try to salvage what was left of this planting season. For every day he was delayed in getting his corn crop in, he knew he could lose up to two bushels of corn per acre. If the rain did not stop soon, there would be no reason left to plant.