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

by Virginia Smith

  How unkind of us, she realized as she watched his profile. I hope he never heard.

  “Thank you for helping,” she told him. “The cell is as it should be now. Bare.”

  He replied with a nod and did not turn from his study of the street ahead. The horse’s hooves fell upon the packed dirt with a rhythmic thud-thud-thud.

  With a stab of guilt, she realized she hadn’t said anything about his errand. He would have had to arrange for someone to care for his children and farm. Not easy tasks, to be sure.

  “And thank you for coming to my rescue. What trouble you have gone to for me.”

  “Not only I. All the families of our district.”

  Rebecca sank a little lower on the bench and tried to filter the hurt out of her voice. “All but my own.”

  His head turned, and he gazed at her through his small, dark eyes. For the first time she realized he wasn’t really cross-eyed. His eyes were merely set so close together they appeared to cross if one didn’t look closely. The query in them faded when realization dawned.

  “Jonas would have come.” The words were pitched softly. “Also Mrs. Switzer. Bishop Miller refused them. He thought it best if help came not from an indulgent family, but from the district.”

  Rebecca’s spirits lifted. Papa had not washed his hands of her. He had merely obeyed the bishop. Perhaps, then, he was not angry with her after all.

  Before she could fully react to the news, Amos continued. “I had yet another purpose to come.” He wet thin lips above his bushy beard and stared ahead. “Perhaps if you felt gratitude, you would look kindly on me.”

  Rebecca looked quickly away. Was that a declaration of love? No, she didn’t believe so. His voice quivered with emotion, but she did not think it was love. More likely need, thank goodness. Tenderness welled up from somewhere deep inside her, and she swallowed against a tight throat.

  “Amos, you are not in love with me,” she said softly.

  “No, but perhaps I could come to love you.” He flashed a sideways glance at her but failed to hold her gaze. “In time you might return my affection.”

  “I’m afraid not.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, but my heart belongs to another. You deserve more than me.”

  His shoulders slumped, and he gave a slow nod. “It is the sheriff.”

  Now it was her turn to flush. What a thing to say.

  “No,” she hurried to reply. “My true love is on his way to me. He will arrive soon. This is why I cannot leave Lawrence yet.”

  Silence fell between them while the wagon slowed and then stopped before a square house of unpainted wood. He secured the rope.

  “I cannot leave either, then.” The statement came out as an announcement. “I will stay and return when you do.”

  “But you have commitments, a family,” she protested.

  “My family is cared for.” The look he turned on her held a stubborn determination that left no room for argument. “I gave my word to bring you home. A man is only as good as his word.”

  Her chin lifted. “And I’ve given my word to remain here and wait for Jesse.”

  At that interesting moment, the door to the house opened and a woman appeared.

  “The news is true then!” Abigail Lawson hurried to the porch, a chubby baby propped on her hip. “I heard you were out of jail, Rebecca.”

  With a last look at Amos that warned him they had not finished the conversation, Rebecca climbed down from the wagon in time to be swept into a quick embrace. Surprised by the sudden squeeze, the baby let out a squeal and Abigail stepped back, laughing. Rebecca admired the child, noting a strong resemblance to Hal, with whom she had spent hours while he was on duty in the jail.

  Amos also climbed from the wagon to begin lifting the small table and chairs down.

  “Just put them anywhere inside.” Abigail waved toward the door. “We’ll move them later.” She turned back to Rebecca. “Gladys Collins told me last night that a friend came from home and paid your whole fine. I guess that’s him.” Without waiting for an answer, she rushed on, full of news that couldn’t wait to spill out. “You know what else she said? Annie had a letter from back East.”

  Rebecca cast a quick glance over her shoulder to be sure Amos could not overhear.

  “About the peaceful protest?”

  “No, not that.” Abigail bounced the baby on her hip and lowered her voice. “It’s about the new sheriff. She wrote to a friend and asked them to do some checking, and turns out he’s known for wild living and drinking whiskey!”

  Amos appeared from inside the house, and the ladies fell silent while he made another trip to the back of the wagon. They waited until he picked up a chair in each hand and headed for the house again.

  Abigail continued in a rushed whisper. “Annie about had a conniption when she heard! Says it’s a plot by the mayor and judge to get away with selling more liquor than ever, and our protest is timely because it’ll bring national attention to Lawrence, and she’s fixing to write a whole series of newspaper articles about it.” She raised her eyebrows. “With pictures too.”

  “Oooh.” Rebecca widened her eyes appreciatively. What would Colin think about his replacement now?

  Amos reappeared, empty-handed.

  Abigail bobbed a quick curtsey, her arms wrapped around the baby. “Thank you kindly, sir. Do the pair of you want to come in for a visit? I could put on the kettle.”

  “No, thank you, Abigail. We have errands yet to run. More deliveries and a trip to the dairy.”

  Amos assisted Rebecca to her place on the bench and then climbed up on the other side. The wagon wheels began to turn when Abigail called out, “Oh, Rebecca!”

  She twisted on the bench to look at her friend.

  “Will I see you in church tomorrow?”

  Church? With a start, Rebecca realized today was Saturday. Tomorrow the faithful of Apple Grove would gather in someone’s home to worship together, and she would miss it. But to attend an Englisch church? Well, why not? She would like to see the kind of church Colin would one day build.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Yes, perhaps you will.”

  “Good. And wear your hair that way. You look mighty fetching.”

  Smiling, Rebecca lifted a hand in farewell. When she faced forward again, she saw that Amos’s lips formed a disapproving line. Whether because of her unbound hair or the idea of going to an Englisch church, she didn’t know.

  After a silent ride back to Massachusetts Street, Amos guided the wagon slowly toward Mrs. Evans’ milliner’s shop, mindful of the heavier traffic. Try though she might, Rebecca couldn’t help staring at the jail, hoping for a glimpse of Colin, but the door remained closed and the chair on the wooden boards out front empty.

  A few buildings away from the milliner’s, they passed the Lucky Dollar Saloon, where the trouble had all started. The doors stood open, though no music drifted from inside. As they drew alongside, Rebecca strained her eyes to see the interior. What did a saloon look like?

  A noise from above drew her attention to the building’s second floor, where one of a row of windows was thrown open with a bang. In the next instant, a bright scarlet garment flew through and dropped toward them. She barely had time to open her mouth to warn Amos when the fabric landed on his head.

  “That’s what I think of your fancy dresses!” A shout that was more like a shriek sounded from inside.

  Rebecca quickly grabbed the reins as Amos’s hands batted frantically at the silky dress that covered his head. “Ach! Ach!” came his muffled voice.

  As Rebecca pulled the fabric off of him, another dress flew through the window along with an exclamation of, “And this one too!” This time she recognized Sassy’s shrill tone.

  With an alarmed look upward, Amos took back the reins and flicked them. The horse lurched forward, and the ornate garment fell to the dirt behind their wagon as a man’s voice bellowed from the upper floor of the saloon.

  Passersby stopped to stare, and a small c
rowd gathered as Rebecca leaped from the slowing wagon and ran to stand beneath—and safely to one side of—the window.

  “I don’t care a fig at Christmas what’s good for your business,” came Sassy’s voice. “I ain’t doing it!”

  Another item sailed through the air, this time an object of more substance. The crowd below sidestepped, and a hairbrush struck the ground with a puff of dirt. An ornamental comb followed.

  “What’s going on out here?”

  At the familiar voice, Rebecca turned to find Colin push his way through the crowd. He caught sight of her and flashed a grin. “Are you causing a ruckus again?”

  Rebecca planted her hands on her hips and faced him. “I am not. Apparently, Sassy is upset.”

  Another dress flew through the window, immediately followed by a water basin. The crowd skipped back when it shattered on impact.

  The man shouted, “I’m taking that out of your pay!”

  Sassy answered, “Yeah? Well, add this to my tab.” A pitcher arced through the air.

  Amos came to stand beside them, his eyes fixed on the window. “I believe she is angry.”

  Colin sighed. “You think so?”

  A shriek pierced the air, followed by Sassy’s outraged cry of, “Take your hands offa me, you big ox. Don’t touch me!”

  The crowd drew in a collective gasp.

  “That’s enough.” Colin strode forward quickly and entered the building.

  Rebecca stood watching the half doors swinging behind him, torn. Was her friend in trouble? Should she follow him? Beside her, Amos fixed on the window through eyes as round as wagon wheels.

  Mrs. Evans bustled up to Rebecca. “I heard a commotion out here.” She stooped to retrieve the hairbrush from the street. “What’s happening?”

  A woman standing behind them said, “The saloon girl is pitching a fit about something.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  They heard voices, the words unclear, but Rebecca recognized Colin’s firm tone. Then a muscular arm shut the window with a slam. Moments later, the doors swung open, and Sassy stormed through. Her blond curls seemed alive as she whipped her head back and forth, taking in the watching crowd. Then she spied Rebecca and marched over to her.

  “I ain’t never been so mad in my whole life! If that man knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of my way.”

  “What happened, dear?” Mrs. Evans asked.

  The townspeople drew near to hear her answer.

  “He don’t like my new dress!” Outrage filled the girl’s voice.

  Someone snickered, and Rebecca bit down on her bottom lip to hide a smile. Colin had accused her of having a temper?

  Amos wore an expression of complete bemusement.

  “For this you throw out your clothing?”

  “Oh, those aren’t mine. Those are the ones Ed told me I have to wear if I want to work at the Dollar anymore. He said the one Rebecca fixed up for me makes me look like a schoolmarm, and the customers ain’t coming in to see a schoolmarm.”

  Her head turned as she searched the items littering the ground. Spying the scarlet dress, she marched over to it and jerked it up. She held it up for the crowd to see.

  “This is what he wants me to wear, and he said if I didn’t I couldn’t work there anymore. So I quit.”

  Besides being a most flamboyant color, the neckline plunged to a more daring level than even the one Rebecca had altered. It took no imagination at all to see that Sassy’s full figure would create quite a distraction in that garment.

  “Oh, my,” muttered Mrs. Evans.

  Amos turned abruptly away, his face approaching the color of the dress.

  The saloon doors swung open again, and Colin exited. He raised his voice to address the crowd.

  “All right, folks, the show’s over. You can go on about your business.”

  As the people started to disperse, some reluctantly, he approached Sassy.

  “If I were you, I’d stay away from Ed for a while. He’s a bit riled up.”

  She tossed her head. “Good for him. So am I.”

  He gestured to the dresses and shards of pottery strewn across the street. “Take care of this mess.”

  His gaze flickered to Rebecca. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes soften in the moment before he turned to go?

  Without a word, Amos began the task of cleaning up the street.

  “My mama would have risen up outta her grave to whip my backside if I put that dress on and pranced around in front of a bunch of men full of whiskey.” She glanced toward the saloon, and sniffled. “That job wasn’t all that good after all, but it was the best I could find.”

  Mrs. Evans patted her arm. “You did the right thing, honey.”

  Rebecca agreed. “What will you do now?”

  “I guess I’ll head to New York City soon.” The hard line of her mouth softened, and her voice became thoughtful. “But it’ll take me a day or two to get the funds together. No sense in being in an all-fired hurry.”

  Rebecca followed her gaze down the street, but she saw nothing that would cause such serious regard.

  Only Amos, stooping to gather broken pottery.

  TWENTY

  The church Mrs. Evans led Rebecca, Amos, and Sassy to on Sunday morning was an impressive building. Rebecca admired the shining white walls and doors of polished wood that shone in the morning sunlight. Atop the pitched roof a steeple reached high into the sky, crowned with a cross that was all the more impressive for its simplicity. Just two pieces of timber, rough and unfinished, lashed together. On just such a cross the Lord might have hung. The thought lent a spirit of reverence as Rebecca approached.

  The people gathered on the lawn in front of the church steps chattered away as they would at any Amish church service. Rebecca glanced backward at Amos, who trudged along behind with a face even longer than usual. That he had agreed to come at all had surprised her because he clearly lacked any desire to attend an Englisch church. She felt a stab of sympathy. Poor Amos. Having failed in his task of escorting her back to Apple Grove, he seemed to have assigned himself the task of trailing her around Lawrence.

  Sassy pranced along with her head high, an eager smile on her lips. Mrs. Evans had generously offered the girl a bed. She had lost her room along with her job at the saloon.

  “I haven’t been to church since I left Texas,” she’d admitted to Rebecca as they readied themselves for the service. “Ed insisted I work late Saturday night, so I never could get outta bed early enough the next day.”

  “There’s Annie.” Mrs. Evans pointed to a cluster of women standing near the doors. “I want to introduce you properly, dear.” She looped an arm through Sassy’s and tugged her away.

  Rebecca started after them, but she was stopped when Abigail Lawson’s waving hand caught her attention. Smiling, she veered in that direction, delighted to see several of the women who had visited her in jail.

  After a few moments of friendly chatter, she caught sight of another familiar face. Her heart gave a curious skip to see Colin coming up the walk. She watched him nod and smile at one couple, tip his hat to another, and stop to exchange a word with a gentleman in a black suit. When he turned away, his gaze strayed toward her. A smile lit his face, and warmth flooded Rebecca at the sight of it.

  He approached across the grassy yard, sidestepping a pair of children who raced in front of him.

  “I wondered if you would be here this morning,” he said when he neared. He extended a hand toward Amos. “Glad to have you visiting, Mr. Beiler.”

  His eyes were the same color as the sky above them, she noticed. Rebecca tore her gaze from his face, disturbed at the fluttering in her stomach. She stared instead at the slightly lopsided tie beneath his chin and fought an urge to reach up and straighten the loops of fabric.

  “I did not realize you attend this church,” she managed.

  “Whenever the job allows.” A grin drew lines at the corners of his mouth. “I like taking notes on the sermons.”
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  The comment contained a private message between the two of them, which caused another delightful tickle. She was spared answering by the ringing of a bell. The doors of the church opened, and the people began to move toward the building. She caught sight of a bright blond head across the crowd and saw Sassy’s gesture for her to join them. Colin fell in beside her, and they entered the building side by side, with Amos following close behind.

  The press lessened as people filed into rows and took their seats. As she made her way toward the place where Sassy and Mrs. Evans had settled, Rebecca glanced back at Amos. His eyes darted everywhere, his face registering surprise. She knew why. Unlike an Amish service, men and women sat interspersed. No doubt he was thoroughly scandalized, even though he did recover himself enough to surge in front of Colin and follow Rebecca when she reached the place Mrs. Evans had saved for them. He took his seat beside her. Colin eyed him with a slight frown before sitting beside him.

  The seating was only the first of many differences. The service began when a man with a pleasant smile welcomed them and invited them to sing.

  Colin leaned forward and whispered to her over Amos. “That’s the preacher.”

  Amos’s stare became wooden, while Rebecca studied the man with interest. Bishop Miller was a kind and friendly man, but when he led services his countenance became solemn, his manner reverent. This man looked neither solemn nor reverent, and his smile beamed as his gaze swept his flock. She could easily envision Colin in his place. Though when he led them in a song that was definitely too lively to come from the Ausbund, even Rebecca had to battle an unsettled feeling when she pictured what her Apple Grove community’s reaction might be. Sassy sang with gusto in a lovely voice that drew appreciative looks from several seated around them.

  But when the preacher picked up a large book from a table in the front and began to read, Amos gave a start.

  “Das ist nicht Deutsch!” he rasped, scandalized.

  “No,” Rebecca whispered back. “It is not German. They have Die Bibel in English.”

  Mrs. Evans glanced sternly at them and then pointedly directed her attention on the preacher. Beyond Amos, Rebecca saw Colin smile.