A Plain and Simple Heart (The Amish of Apple Grove)

by Virginia Smith

  Yes, she thought miserably. They did care, until I shamed them.

  The arm was removed, and Mrs. Evans clasped her hands in her lap.

  “Will you forgive a meddling old fool who only had your interests at heart?”

  Forgiveness in such a circumstance was easy. How could she fault the woman who had been her friend and loyal companion through the most difficult days of her life? She’d had plenty of time to think while she sewed, and she knew the blame of the last nine days lay with her. If she had not lost her temper with the judge, none of this would have happened.

  If she had not sneaked off in the middle of the night, she would be at home now, with her loved ones. Growing up was harder than she imagined.

  She managed a genuine smile. “I bear you only gratitude, Mrs. Evans. You have been a true friend.” The smile slipped. “It seems my only one.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. That young man who came for you seems quite taken.”

  The idea brought a laugh from her. “Amos Beiler is here at the direction of the bishop. If he is interested in me, it is only because he seeks a mother to raise his children.”

  “He is a widower?” Mrs. Evans’ gaze flew to the picture of her and her late husband, her expression tragic. “Oh, the poor man.”

  Seeing the pain play across the woman’s face, Rebecca experienced a stab of remorse. She had never considered that poor Amos might be lonely. He always seemed so composed and emotionless.

  Mrs. Evans leaned forward and slid a slice of cake onto a small plate. “Mr. Beiler isn’t the only one who is taken with you, you know.”

  Rebecca watched her cut a bite-sized piece with her fork. “What do you mean?”

  The fork paused in front of Mrs. Evans’ mouth. “Why, the sheriff, of course. One had only to watch his eyes and hear his words to see that.”

  The idea was so ludicrous she couldn’t stop a laugh. “He does not like me, and I have”—she swallowed—“plagued him. Like grasshoppers and locusts, if you are to believe him.”

  A twinkle winked in the old lady’s eye. “Oh, my dear, you can’t tell what a man thinks by words spoken in haste. No, you must look for the reason behind the words.” She placed the cake between smiling lips. “You really should try this. It’s quite good.”

  A hot, uncomfortable dampness gathered beneath Rebecca’s collar. Could Mrs. Evans be right? Did the cause for Colin’s rejection lie in his feelings?

  She shook her head, unwilling to let the thought lodge there. No. The enforced time together had resulted in what she thought was a budding friendship, but nothing else. Besides, she loved Jesse and had never made a secret of that.

  But she couldn’t deny the fact that Colin’s words no longer stung the way they had a moment before. Beside her, Mrs. Evans watched her with a shrewd eye. With an effort, Rebecca schooled her expression. To cover the smile that threatened, she leaned toward the tea tray and picked up the second plate.

  “I will have cake, thank you.”

  Morning brought a resurgence of hope that Rebecca would not have thought possible the night before. She had spent the first hours of the night reexamining her plans. True, she had accomplished nothing thus far with her rumspringa except to humiliate herself and possibly alienate her family. Also true, she had not yet found Jesse. And Colin…well, she was not sure what to think of Colin. The more she considered Mrs. Evans’ suggestion, the less credence she gave it, but she could not deny the fact that when he spoke of his desire to build his orphanage and church, the passion she glimpsed in him stirred something similar in her. It made her even more determined to achieve her goal.

  And that goal was marriage to Jesse and embarking on a peaceful life. A Plain life. Colin had said, “Put away childish things.” What she felt for Jesse was anything but childish—but then, her thoughts of Colin were starting to become confusing.

  She cupped her hands and splashed water from the basin on her face. Her path to accomplishing her goal had been altered, but she would not return to Apple Grove. Not yet. She had given her word to participate in the peaceful protest, and she would do so. If Annie Diggs was known as a woman of honor, so would Rebecca Switzer be. The protest would occur on the twenty-fourth, four days from now. In the meantime, she would finish Sassy’s dress and take on more sewing. Four days might not be long enough to earn the money she owed Luke and Emma and now the people of Apple Grove, but it would be a start. Somehow she would repay her debts and earn Papa’s approval again, no matter how long it took.

  Her face clean, she straightened. From the burnished glass above the dressing table her reflection stared at her. She raised a hand to her hair, unbound and tousled from the night. Not the gleaming gold of Sassy’s curls, but the sunlight streaming through the window reflected off her chestnut locks and gave them a lovely color all their own. She twisted a strand around her finger. What if she didn’t wear her kapp today? She was on rumspringa, wasn’t she?

  Five minutes later she descended the narrow staircase to find Mrs. Evans stirring a steaming pot on the surface of the iron stove. She tapped the long-handled spoon on the edge.

  “There you are, child. I fixed porridge—oh!” Her eyes grew wide when she caught sight of Rebecca, and she turned. “Don’t you look lovely this morning?”

  Self-consciously, Rebecca ran a hand over the thick mass of hair that hung past her waist while the woman walked in a circle around her.

  “Yes, quite lovely.” A merry gleam appeared in her eyes when she turned back to the stove and began to spoon porridge into bowls. “After breakfast, I’d like to ask a favor.”

  Rebecca cradled a warm bowl in both hands and carried it to a small table that had already been set for breakfast.

  “I will help you however I can.”

  “If you’ll just go across to the jail and bring my things back, I would appreciate that ever so much.”

  The bowl slipped from Rebecca’s startled fingers and fell with a clatter onto the table. The jail?

  Mrs. Evans ignored the racket and set the second bowl down gently in front of her chair. “I must open the shop, you know.”

  “But…” Face Colin again? So soon? The sting of his words still lay heavy on her heart. Her appetite gone, she sank into the chair. “Perhaps I could open the store and you could go with Amos to get your things?”

  “No, I have an early customer. You must see him sometime, dear.” Mrs. Evans picked up her spoon and took a dainty mouthful. “Afterward, you can take my wagon and drive to the dairy, if you don’t mind. I think the cream has gone sour, and I only purchased it yesterday.”

  Rebecca stared at the rapidly cooling porridge. Though she would give much to avoid seeing Colin this morning, perhaps Mrs. Evans was right. The sooner they got past the awkwardness of yesterday, the easier she would feel.

  Only by facing him could she put behind her any lingering doubt about his feelings.

  Amos sat on the rigid boards in front of the milliner’s shop, his shoes resting on the dusty road. Although the sun peeked above the buildings that lined the wide street, the town was almost deserted.

  Unlike farmers, town folk kept odd hours.

  Sleep had eluded him long into the night, put off by the sounds of revelry and activity outside the window of his boardinghouse. The three men who shared his lodging had stumbled in and fallen onto their cots long after nightfall, their breath filling the air with the reek of alcohol. When Amos rose before sunup, their snores were still echoing off the rough-cut timber walls. Even Mrs. Sawyer, the woman who had taken his money and showed him to his meager cot last night, had not yet risen when he slipped out of the boardinghouse into the predawn stillness of Lawrence.

  Back home he would already have eaten breakfast, milked the cows, and started spreading manure in the east field. A breath filled his lungs and seeped out in a sigh. Jonas had promised to care for his animals, but no doubt the task of fertilizing would have to wait until he returned. And how were his children faring with Mrs. Switzer? He missed th
eir sleepy yawns when he roused them to do their morning chores.

  For a moment he battled resentment. Rebecca Switzer had disrupted his family and his life, and she had not greeted his arrival with proper gratitude. She had ever been headstrong, and last night proved that recent events had failed to teach her the meekness of an Amish woman.

  A noise alerted him to the opening of the door behind him. Amos stood and turned to look into the astonished face of the object of his thoughts. How young and lovely she looked, but with increasing disapproval he noted her unbound hair and the absence of her kapp.

  “Amos.” She sounded surprised, even shocked, to see him. As well she should, to appear in the light of day in such an immodest fashion.

  “Rebecca.” With an effort he schooled the emotion from his voice and expression. It would not do to offend her when he wished her cooperation. “I have purchased seats on the train to Hays City. We leave at noon.”

  The stubborn set to her jaw was not what Amos expected from a woman who had so recently been the recipient of grace from her community. She folded her arms, her manner most unrepentant.

  “My business here is not finished.”

  With dawning disbelief, he realized the meaning of her words.

  “But I paid for your freedom.”

  Her eyes snapped. “Am I to be bought like a cow or a goat?” Then she softened her tone. “Amos, I am grateful. Truly I am. But I have given my word, and Amish do not give their word and then take it back—”

  “There you are, Becca!”

  A female voice echoed down the street. Amos turned to see a woman coming. Golden hair circled her head like an unkempt halo, and her full figure was set off rather than hidden by an abundance of ruffles and lace. Flames erupted in his cheeks at the sight of her.

  “Some of the boys were talking last night and said you’d paid your fine.” She brushed past Amos. “Excuse me, sweetie.” She gathered Rebecca in an embrace. “Good for you. I was hoping you’d be here. This hem don’t fall right in the back. You think you could fix it for me?” She twisted her hindquarters around to face Rebecca and twitched her billowing skirt.

  His face burning, Amos tore his gaze away. Had he thought Rebecca immodest a moment before? Surely Jezebel had stepped straight from the pages of Die Bibel.

  The woman’s gaze fell on him and swept him from head to foot. An amused grin pierced dimples in her plump cheeks.

  “Well, wouldja look at you? Ain’t you the cutest little thing in that squirrely hat and scruffy beard?”

  Amos drew himself up to stand straight under her scrutiny. A thousand responses tore through his mind, but none made their way to his tongue, so he simply returned her gaze.

  A woman appeared behind Rebecca. The elderly lady he recognized from the previous night awarded them all with a delighted smile.

  “Sassy, so good to see you. I was just about to invite Mr. Beiler in for breakfast. Would you care to join us?”

  With a deepening of the dimple the saloon girl turned his way, tossed her head, and grinned. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  A fog descended on Amos’s thoughts, throwing them into chaos. Rebecca, who looked nearly as bemused as he felt, beckoned him into the widow’s house.

  “Come eat some breakfast before you start for home.”

  Sometime in the past few minutes, control had been wrested from him. Feeling slightly sick, he removed his hat and trailed the ladies inside.

  Colin ran a comb through his hair and then placed it on the dresser. Had he ever spent a more restless night than the one just past? Not in his recollection. Kaspar’s questioning had proved a waste of time, with the sour-faced outlaw repeating his denial of everything and anything. He was “just passing through town.” And all the while Colin had been haunted with images of a sweet-faced Amish girl and tear-flooded brown eyes.

  He put on his leather vest and paused for a moment to finger the shiny tin star pinned there. Four more days and he would hand over that star to his successor.

  Can’t come a minute too soon.

  But with the thought came a flood of emotions. In all conscience, how could he leave Mulhaney with so many unanswered questions? Outlaws popping in and out of town. Women whispering behind his back.

  And one little Amish girl who haunted his thoughts.

  She’s not my problem. I need to leave her to Amos, or better yet, to the elusive Jesse she speaks so highly of.

  Even though he’d reached the conclusion when his head hit the pillow, sleep had hovered out of reach the whole night, his restless thoughts refusing to settle. Why hadn’t he taken longer to explain his order to leave? He couldn’t abandon her here in Lawrence, alone and unprotected. Mulhaney most likely wouldn’t be as patient with her as he had been. And exactly why had he been so patient? Because he knew she was young and followed foolish dreams. Jesse. Who knew where the man was and what he’d become? If he loved her, he would have sought her out years ago.

  “Hey, lawman. Where’s the coffee?”

  Kaspar’s growly shout from the cell beyond his small room jarred his nerves. The man’s snores had raised the roof. With a final tug to settle his vest over his shoulders, Colin walked into the office at the same time the door opened. Time was when the jail was pretty quiet. When a familiar figure slipped through, he smiled. Rebecca. He figured she would be so angry with him that she would leave town as quickly as she’d come. Her striking, fresh-faced appearance this morning stopped him. Her beautiful hair hung freely down her back instead of being caught up in the severe knot he’d grown accustomed to.

  Or maybe it wasn’t her hair that looked different. The tentative smile she turned his way stopped him short. Desire thickened his tongue.

  “We have come to clean my cell…I mean, your cell.”

  He noticed that Amos had filed in quietly behind her. Nodding, he said, “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  Her quizzical gaze searched his face. “I…”

  “Things got heated last night. I’m sorry.”

  A smile softened her lips. “I too am sorry. You have been most kind to me—more often than not.”

  From the cell behind him came the sound of slow applause.

  “Now, ain’t that tear-jerkin’?” Kaspar’s voice dripped sarcasm. “You two want to kiss and make up?”

  Still holding her gaze, Colin said, “Pipe down, Kaspar.”

  Amos stepped between them, a troubled frown gathered on his brow. “We will begin. There is much to carry.”

  Two trips across the street emptied the cell of lace, frills, and womanly stuff. Amos carried the rocking chair while Colin loaded the table and chairs into Mrs. Evans’ small wagon to be returned to Abigail Lawson. Rebecca watched as he set them in place.

  “So you’re a free woman. I’m happy for you, Rebecca. Guess you’ll be leaving with Amos on the noon train?”

  “No. I will remain in Lawrence.”

  He laid a chair down so it wouldn’t fall during the bumpy journey across town and turned to her. “I thought we’d settled this last night. You need to go home.”

  “I need to be a woman of my word, and Mrs. Diggs expects me to be here when Mr. Diggs returns with Jesse.”

  Conflicting emotions rose as he set the other chair in place. He couldn’t see her with Amos. A woman with her spirit would suffocate with an emotionless man like him. But Jesse was a wild card.

  Lord, I hope he’s as fine a man as she says he is. She deserves a good life.

  He straightened when Amos returned from Mrs. Evans’. “Well, I wish you Godspeed, Miss Switzer.”

  “And His to you also, Sheriff Maddox.”

  He nodded. “You’re a good woman, Rebecca—and I’m praying that Jesse knows what a lucky man he is.”

  Standing there in the sunlight, her head tilted back to look up at him and her hair spilling down her back, she made a lovely picture.

  A smile escaped her. “It would give me great pleasure to hear you preach, Colin.”

  With an ef
fort, he returned her smile. “I’m getting a little rusty. I haven’t been around many cows lately.”

  She gently grasped his hands. “But someday?”

  He nodded. “Someday.”

  Though in his heart he knew that day would never come.

  NINETEEN

  Rebecca sat on the bench of the small wagon beside Amos, studying the buildings they passed. Though ten days had gone by since her arrival in Lawrence, this was her first real look at the town. On Massachusetts Street the buildings were nearly all businesses, set close together. The streets farther away were narrower, and the buildings had more room between them and boasted more homes. Fascinated, she stared at the neat little yards and whitewashed porches decorated with pots of flowers. In a few windows she glimpsed lace curtains, an indulgence not seen in Amish households.

  Amos slowed the wagon to execute a turn, following Colin’s directions to the Lawson home. He handled the horse with ease, and Rebecca noticed he looked more at home here, on a wagon bench, than sitting at Mrs. Evans’ breakfast table, trying not to stare at Sassy with a sort of fascinated horror he could not completely mask by his normally impassive expression. She hid a grin.

  Sassy had eaten porridge and bread like a lumberjack while detailing the escapades of a heated poker game in the saloon the night before. She seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in watching a flush rise on Amos’s face, and Rebecca suspected she exaggerated her tale with flamboyant gestures simply to watch the color deepen.

  Mrs. Evans’ words from last night returned, and Rebecca’s conscience prickled. Was Amos lonely? He had been a widower for five years, and the desperation of his desire to find a new wife had become a joke among the young women of Apple Grove. If talk turned to marriage, someone would inevitably remark, “There’s always Amos Beiler,” and everyone would chuckle.